Thranduil X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Hi! Could you please write a dialogue prompt 4 with Thranduil? Thanks!

“the interrogation”

author’s note: of course! this prompt seems very canon as something the elf king himself would say, so i’m excited to dive into this for you <3 I'm gonna stray a little further from my normal way of writing Y/N by making them a person who somehow woke up in their favorite book, “The Hobbit”!

Pairing: Thranduil / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 886

summary: after waking up in the world of your comfort book, you find yourself in the midst of a terrifying power: the Elvenking.

content warnings: I mixed the lore of the book and the movies together for this

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

Anxiety rushed through your body as your heart seemed to be leaping out of your chest with each beat. You were being led through the twists and turns of some sort of extravagant castle as two elven guards held you firmly by the arms. Where they were taking you, you weren’t sure. A tiny voice in the back off your head wondered if you were dreaming, but the pain from the guards’ grips was more than enough to reassure you that this was your new reality.

How you had come to find yourself in this new world was beyond the comprehension of your mind. The last thing you remembered was being curled up on your soft, worn-down couch while reading your favorite book, "The Hobbit". It was a tale you knew well, as you had read it countless times when in need of a pick-me-up. You hadn't seen all of the movies yet, as you usually fell asleep halfway through the second one, but the book was usually enough to satiate you. It had been another cozy night of reading when you had fallen asleep in the middle of the chapter "Flies and Spiders", and the next thing you knew, you had awoken in some sort of woodland realm!

Oh, how you desperately wished you could return to your cozy couch and your soft blankets, but it seemed those pleasantries were far away from you now, and incredibly out of reach. 

More twists and turns led you to a wide room, all entirely made of tree branches and wood. In the center lied a magnificent throne of ancient antlers, its steps leading down to the space you now occupied. A cold, regal voice cut through your thoughts, and suddenly your eyes shot up to look at the person before you.

"First you have me deal with lowly dwarves, and now there's another? Who are you?" He sat proudly on his throne, and you found yourself speechless at his beauty. His long hair draped over his shoulders delicately as you met his cold gaze. He was like a star, cold and distant and icy. You couldn't believe the sight before you. Slowly, things started connecting in your mind. Dwarves, elven guards, oh no.

This was Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood. And your very life had now been placed in his beautiful hands.

"We found this one an hour ago, reports say they simply appeared in a cloud of smoke before the gates," one of the guards said, and the king's brow tensed. He wasn't happy.

"Some dark magic, then?" He stood, slowly descending the stairs as he approached you. "And yet, you come without weapons or anything other than the clothes on your back. Tell me, who are you?"

"Y/N," you said, finally finding your words. "And you must be Thranduil, King of the elves.” You spoke carefully, treading lightly with your words.

“So you know who I am,” he said. “Good, then you must know of my intolerance for outsiders. Speak quickly of your intentions and perhaps I’ll do you the mercy of imprisoning you.”

“Prison?” You said, eyes wide. Oh no, you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life in the prisons of Mirkwood.

“I’d speak quickly if I were you,” he warned. “You’re losing my interest, and that is very dangerous.”

You searched your brain for the words to speak, now panicking. “I came here from another realm!” You said, trying to re-iterate your predicament in a fashion that suggested you were much more wise than you found yourself to be. After all, you knew this story like the back of your hand, and it was the only leverage you seemed to have right now. “Another realm filled with scrolls, and I am the reader of those scrolls.”

“What scrolls do you speak of?” He raised his brow, leaning closer.

“Scrolls of the histories of this land. I know the past, I’ve read the present, and I’ve seen the future!” You had no idea where you were going with this; at the very least, you were trying to save the skin on your back. And you were hoping to god that your favorite author’s tomes could help you.

“Such as? Prove to me you’re not some petty liar.”

“You’ve imprisoned Thorin Oakenshield and his company for his refusal to pay you back that which was rightfully yours!” Please believe me, you thought. “He aims to reclaim the Lonely Mountain and defeat the dragon that lies in its depths.”

“So you’re a liar and a spy. Guards, take them away.”

“No, please!” You cried out desperately. “The gems, they were for your wife! The White Gems of Lasgalen!”

The king froze in his place as he returned to his throne. Finally, you thought. Surely you had him now! He raised a pale hand that was decorated with rings, his voice cutting through you as he issued out another order.

“Guards, unhand them.” He said, turning around to face you as he approached. You swallowed hard, your heart thrumming in your chest as everything seemed so unknown right now. Time seemed to freeze as you fell to your knees, your limbs now free.

“It seems that you would know more than I would like,” he chirped. “So enlighten me, Y/N. What else do you know?”

Legolas in my self-indulgent fanfics after finding out I slept with his dad:

Yes it’s late, but we are a mood, before this I was simping over my lotr and hobbit babes...

Reposting again because y’all don’t seem to know

PSA FOR ALL FANFIC WRITERS.

DONT 👏 TAG 👏 CHARACTERS/PEOPLE 👏 AS 👏 X/READER 👏 OR 👏 X/OC 👏 OR 👏 X/CHARACTER 👏 IF 👏 THEY 👏 ARE 👏 NOT 👏 THE 👏 MAIN 👏 COUPLE 👏

Y'all it’s honestly so frustrating. I mean I get it, I want my work to be seen too. I’ll usually tag a few people that are present in the fic, in the tags, just to be more thorough.

But there is a fine line between tagging let’s say #Captain America and #Captain America x Reader when it’s a Tony Stark x Reader fic.

Especially since Tumblr’s tagging system is already kinda fucked, you don’t make it worse by tagging different people.

Sure, adding more people it gets your work seen in more tags, but not in the light you’d want it to. Personally, if I see a fic that has been tagged with a certain character, that isn’t the character I’m looking for, I pass right by it.

In fact, I make a point to not read it, because that’s just downright lying and frustrating as hell.

Another example, my friend and I like the YouTubers Sam and Colby, Devyn and Corey, Elton Castee and Aaron Doh. (Or the people that live/lived in the “Trap House”) While I like Colby (as does she) she also likes Aaron. So far we’ve only come across one Aaron fic, but in the Aaron Doh x Reader tag? All Colby fics. The only reason we found the one fic was because the girl posted her master list.

I’ve been encountering this since I joined Tumblr, and it’s always frustrated me to no end. So I’ve finally decided to say something about it.

JUST DONT DO IT. YOUR FIC WILL GET NOTICED.

Maybe not as much as you want it to, but that doesn’t give you a right to be disrespectful to those who do write, who aren’t getting reads because you decided your fic was more important. Thank you.

(And yes I will be tagging X Reader stories, not to be hypocritical, but because this needs to be seen by the people that are doing it) (which yes I know is also hypocritical but at least I acknowledge it)

You can’t convince me that there isn’t something so special about himbo’s.

You also can’t convince me the opposite isn’t hot too...

Obsession pt.2 {Thranduil x F! Reader}

Word Count: 2692

Warnings: Smut

Note: This chapter is 18+, please do not read if you are a minor. This is simply a bonus part to the previous chapter.

Part One

Keep reading

hardest of hearts - prologue

hardest of hearts masterlist

a/n: i suck at writing but i hope whomever is reading this that you enjoy it just as much as i do and feel free for critiques i need all i can get (in a nice way please).

chapter warning(s): death and explicit details of death as well

prologue: all good things must come to an end

song: and the sky turned red

Once upon a time in Middle Earth before the Battle of Dagorlad there was a group of elves known in later years to be that of just a myth, who had resided in the Grey Mountains. They were delicate creatures compared to that of their other elven kin, their eyes slightly larger than normal and it was said that they had the most beautiful voices in all of Middle Earth. Upon their group there were the warlike and peaceful, the warlike were known to be warriors who showed no mercy in combat and believed that others should have known better than to create an enemy of a superior foe such as themselves.

They lived by a complex code of honor and spent their lives defending their race as well as other races of elves. The peaceful were known to consist of scholars, philosophers, and artists who relied on their brains and diplomatic abilities including their magic power. They spent their lives studying the world, its history and creating works of art simply for the joy of creation. Despite their contrasting personalities, the two subcultures interacted surprisingly well.

Though as the saying goes all good things must come to an end, and soon it did just that. As Sauron got stronger, chaos within Middle Earth grew feral causing all to be on edge and constantly looking over their shoulder especially the elves in the Grey Mountains. Not much would attack them without them knowing, but one particularly cold night in the middle of the winter tragedy would strike..

It had been a daunting day as the temperature kept dropping causing the elves' bodies to work even harder during training, pushing themselves to the point of severe exhaustion. Many elves were sent back to their bed chambers earlier that day from either broken bones or hyperthermia. Soon the sun set and the stars came out of hiding winking in warning as if they knew what troubles lay ahead. As the hours passed mostly all were asleep in the comforts of their beds except for the few elves who were stationed guard outside the royal families living quarters and around the kingdom itself.

Unknowing to those in the mountain something wicked moved their way, sailing through the sky with ease, jealousy and bloodlust coating their tongues. And before they knew it the elves were ripped out of their dreams by the sound of a mighty roar and unnatural heat surrounding them. It was mayhem as smoke and flames surrounded the mountain, warriors jumping out of bed going to the source of destruction while some of the peaceful gathered the children and the others were fighting alongside the warriors with whatever magic they could conjure.

Nobody knows what truly transpired that frightful bloodshed night, only of the aftermath that was caused as the next day a select number of elves from Rivendell and Mirkwood traveled to the Grey Mountains to see if the rumors were true. Upon arrival the elves couldn’t believe what they were looking at, it was dead silent as bodies of their distant kin were scattered around.

Navigating through the heavy smoke that still lingered in the air, more and more bodies appeared. Some of children others of warriors with their eyes wide open in terror and the peaceful who had nothing of themselves left but their bones. And in the center of it all was a dragon the color of charcoal who seemed to be in the form of a statue, its mouth and eyes open wide as if to give one more lethal breath of fire to the kingdom that was submerged in ruins. All around lay death and it was just like that that the group of elves who were once known to be the superior of the elven races seemed now to be of nothing.

Thousands of years of history had become extinct overnight, turning one of the most ancient elven races into myth. To those in Middle Earth the Avariel elves, who carried angelic feathered wings on their back, were of nothing but falsehood the stories of their kin now told to younglings before bed. Though, it is said that if one looks to the north toward the Grey Mountains on the coldest night of the year they can still see the smoke, still hear the dragons roar along with the war cries of the Avariel, and still smell that of burnt feathers lingering in the air.

chapter one

hardest of hearts - prologue

hardest of hearts masterlist

a/n: i suck at writing but i hope whomever is reading this that you enjoy it just as much as i do and feel free for critiques i need all i can get (in a nice way please).

chapter warning(s): death and explicit details of death as well

prologue: all good things must come to an end

song: and the sky turned red

Once upon a time in Middle Earth before the Battle of Dagorlad there was a group of elves known in later years to be that of just a myth, who had resided in the Grey Mountains. They were delicate creatures compared to that of their other elven kin, their eyes slightly larger than normal and it was said that they had the most beautiful voices in all of Middle Earth. Upon their group there were the warlike and peaceful, the warlike were known to be warriors who showed no mercy in combat and believed that others should have known better than to create an enemy of a superior foe such as themselves.

They lived by a complex code of honor and spent their lives defending their race as well as other races of elves. The peaceful were known to consist of scholars, philosophers, and artists who relied on their brains and diplomatic abilities including their magic power. They spent their lives studying the world, its history and creating works of art simply for the joy of creation. Despite their contrasting personalities, the two subcultures interacted surprisingly well.

Though as the saying goes all good things must come to an end, and soon it did just that. As Sauron got stronger, chaos within Middle Earth grew feral causing all to be on edge and constantly looking over their shoulder especially the elves in the Grey Mountains. Not much would attack them without them knowing, but one particularly cold night in the middle of the winter tragedy would strike..

It had been a daunting day as the temperature kept dropping causing the elves' bodies to work even harder during training, pushing themselves to the point of severe exhaustion. Many elves were sent back to their bed chambers earlier that day from either broken bones or hyperthermia. Soon the sun set and the stars came out of hiding winking in warning as if they knew what troubles lay ahead. As the hours passed mostly all were asleep in the comforts of their beds except for the few elves who were stationed guard outside the royal families living quarters and around the kingdom itself.

Unknowing to those in the mountain something wicked moved their way, sailing through the sky with ease, jealousy and bloodlust coating their tongues. And before they knew it the elves were ripped out of their dreams by the sound of a mighty roar and unnatural heat surrounding them. It was mayhem as smoke and flames surrounded the mountain, warriors jumping out of bed going to the source of destruction while some of the peaceful gathered the children and the others were fighting alongside the warriors with whatever magic they could conjure.

Nobody knows what truly transpired that frightful bloodshed night, only of the aftermath that was caused as the next day a select number of elves from Rivendell and Mirkwood traveled to the Grey Mountains to see if the rumors were true. Upon arrival the elves couldn’t believe what they were looking at, it was dead silent as bodies of their distant kin were scattered around.

Navigating through the heavy smoke that still lingered in the air, more and more bodies appeared. Some of children others of warriors with their eyes wide open in terror and the peaceful who had nothing of themselves left but their bones. And in the center of it all was a dragon the color of charcoal who seemed to be in the form of a statue, its mouth and eyes open wide as if to give one more lethal breath of fire to the kingdom that was submerged in ruins. All around lay death and it was just like that that the group of elves who were once known to be the superior of the elven races seemed now to be of nothing.

Thousands of years of history had become extinct overnight, turning one of the most ancient elven races into myth. To those in Middle Earth the Avariel elves, who carried angelic feathered wings on their back, were of nothing but falsehood the stories of their kin now told to younglings before bed. Though, it is said that if one looks to the north toward the Grey Mountains on the coldest night of the year they can still see the smoke, still hear the dragons roar along with the war cries of the Avariel, and still smell that of burnt feathers lingering in the air.

chapter one

hardest of hearts - masterlist

(the hobbit fanfiction)

summary: this is a story about an ancient group of elves who where known to be extinct, turning from legend to myth. until one day Gandalf finds a survivor and asks her to join an unexpected journey with a bunch of dwarfs and a lone hobbit. will this journey risk not just her life but her sanity or will she find her truth and finally confront her demons? after all she hasn’t been seen since the Second Age.

warning(s): will contain mature content and death, you have been warned and this is sorta slow burn

prologue

chapter one

i don’t own the hobbit or lord of the rings or avariels but i do own my own characters and their story lines of sorts. also all the information on the avariels i did get from the internet.

tags: @emrfangirl @nikkitc0703 @sugarandspicebutnonice

hardest of hearts - chapter one

hardest of hearts masterlist

prologue

a/n: first all i would just like to say thank you to all who have liked, comment, reblogged, and read my story so far! and second of all, in this chapter you still won’t know that of the woman’s name (for reasons) which will sort of be addressed in the next chapter. okay, well please sit back relax and enjoy!

chapter warning(s): nothing much only that of sadness

chapter one: deep in the old forest

song: experience

Deep in the Old Forest bordering that of The Shire does live a woman who hides in the shadows, concealed by the darkness and tanglement of trees. She was never to step foot out of her small cottage in fear of the monsters that lay awake, listening to her every move. So when a knock sounded at her door late in the afternoon, her heart rate started to quicken as she had thought that of the worst. Not knowing what to do, she pulled her cloak tighter around her body with the hood covering the majority of her face as she made her way to the sound. Her hands shaking as she ever so slightly cracked open her front door.

Looking through the small crevice that separated her from the outside world, she didn’t see much, only that of the color grey. “Who’s there?” the woman’s voice that of a whisper.

“It has been a while since I have seen you last, but surely I am not that easy to forget. Am I?” the voice on the other side of the door responded with a slight chuckle.

Before she could stop herself her body acted on its own accord, pulling the door wide open. Casting her eyes on the man in front of her, she let out a shaky breath believing that this was just another trick of her mind. Hesitantly she raised her hand toward the man's face afraid that if she made any sudden movements he would disappear out of thin air. With the touch of an angel she laid her hand on his cheek, feeling his life running under his skin through her palm. “Gandalf, is that...is that really you?”

With a smile tugging at his mouth and unshed tears glistening in his eyes Gandalf responded, “It is I Mellon Nin.” In that moment no more words were of need to be spoken, the silence hanging between them said enough.

With a shake of her head followed by a dainty laugh she snapped out of the moment as she dropped her hand from the man's face, “How rude of me, please do come in.” Ushering him inside her home she quickly glanced around the forest making sure that somebody or something didn’t follow his trail. Locking the door behind her, she turned around dropping her hood letting Gandalf see that of a face he hadn’t seen since the Second Age. To him she had grown even more mesmerising than he remembered her to be.

Her eyes being larger and more expressive than the other features on her face, her irises shifting from a cloud grey to a sky blue as light bends around her. Her hair could be compared to the peaks of her once home in the Grey Mountains a white silver in tone, long like her former kin he presumed but couldn’t tell as for it was styled into an updo fashion. Her cheekbones sat high on her heart shaped face complementing the air of haughtiness that clung to her.

She bore the manner of grace and poise compared to thousands of years ago when instead she bore that of restlessness and ignorance. Ended were the years of childhood and adolescence as now she had grown into that of a woman, whose wings he had still not seen. Her wings, which he could only imagine were under the thickness of her cloak, must be even more exquisite than they were when she was just a child.

Before he could think upon it anymore his thoughts were interrupted by the woman's gentle voice, “To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

“Is there a place we can sit and talk? I have been on my feet all day it seems.”

“Of course, please follow me,” Gandalf trailed after the elven woman into a small kitchen where in the corner sat a small breakfast nook which he gladly took a seat at. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

“Red wine would be lovely, dear.” With elegance the woman poured the wizard a glass of wine, setting it down in front of him waiting for him to state his reason for the very unexpected visit. Downing his drink in three large gulps, he smacked his lips together before letting out a long breath followed by his answer to her earlier question. “Thorin Oakenshield and his company of dwarves are going to reclaim the kingdom of Erebor in part with the treasure from Smaug and in order to do so they need a burglar and a guide. The burglar will be that of a Hobbit, now the guide on the other hand I was hoping would be you.”

Dark eyebrows furrowed, the woman didn’t know what to think. “Out of all those in the land you could have asked, you chose me. To guide them to a dragon of all living things,” the woman slightly snarled before gaining composure. “You know what those creatures have done to my kin, but yet you still ask. Why?” Disappointment couldn’t help but shine on the woman's elven features.

“I know what I ask of you is difficult, Mellon Nin. Though you are the only one that knows these lands better than myself.” Lightly grabbing her hands in his, he continued. “You are the only one I trust to steer these dwarves in the right direction for I won’t be there throughout their whole journey. All I ask is for you to guide them and nothing more, just to get them to the mountain safely.”

Taking her hands out of his soft grip, the woman walked a few steps away from where the man sat trying to get a little bit of distance from him in order for her to clear her head and think. Upset, she turned her back to him and started gripping the kitchen sink causing it to creak under her palms. “It is getting dark. I think it would be best for you to leave now,” she couldn’t help but to dismiss him as all she wanted to be was alone.

Making a small humming noise in the back of his throat, the man got up out of his seat, collected his things, and started to head for the point of both entry and exit. Just as his hand came in contact with the door handle, the woman began to speak once more. “I-I’m not certain I can do what you ask of me, but I will sleep on it. I'm sorry it seems that is all I can give to you for now.”

Smirking lightly the wizard dressed in grey opened the door, but not before parting with a few last words. “Very well then dear, if you decide that you are up for the journey myself and the company of Thorin Oakenshield will be passing through Buckland sometime in the early morning. It was wonderful seeing you again and for I hope this is not the last time either as that red wine was quite delicious.” And just like that the front door slammed shut while a lone tear slid down the elven woman's cheek.

Later in the night, the woman couldn’t help but toss and turn in her bed, more tears escaping her eyes as a memory of her former life plagued her mind like a dream..

Her father had arrived earlier in the day, back to Forlond, after being gone for more than three days straight. And now with her siblings absent she was sitting on his left hand side as dinner was served before them, a question resting on the tip of her tongue but knew not to speak of it, scared that her father would get angry. Unfortunately for her she could never hide her feelings and somehow they most always made their way onto her face.

“Anna,” not her name, instead a term of endearment her father used whenever speaking to her. “What is it that is troubling you?” she was asked without so much a glance in her direction.

Wiping her mouth with the napkin laying in her lap, she asked the question that had been bothering her for days now with caution. “Ada, why is it that you do much for others what they don't do for you?” Silence echoed around the dining room, causing the young elven girl to retreat back in on herself, she knew she should have never asked an idiotic question to begin with. “I-I don’t mean anything bad by it Ada, I was just curious is all an-.”

Before she could continue on her rambling, her attempt at extinguishing the lingering silence was interrupted by that of her fathers calm soothing voice. “No it is fine Anna, no need to try and explain yourself.” He set down his utensils, resting his forearms on the table in front of him turning his gaze to that of his daughter.

“When I was your age I asked my father, your grandfather the same question once,” her father chuckled to himself, his obsidian colored hair slightly shaking intandem. “And in turn he asked me, why not give to those what they don’t have? Just because we are different from our distant land bound kin from all others on this land and in the skies does not make us mightier than them, it does not give us superiority over them. We help those who need help.”

It felt as if his eyes were piercing through her seeing that into her soul, “Would you rather spend the rest of your days helping others in need or live the rest of your days knowing you just stood by and did nothing?”

Before her younger self could respond, she jolted awake from the memory that had taken the form of a dream. Only to curl in on herself and weep, not in sadness but instead in shame. If her father could see her now he would be disappointed, not at all happy with how she handled yesterday's company. Wiping the tears off her cheeks, untangling from bed, she stood on shaky legs knowing that if she didn’t do what was right she wouldn’t be able to live with herself at all.

Snapping out of the thoughts that clouded her mind, she grabbed a bag and began darting around her living quarters packing only that of her essentials. At last she secured her cloak around her body, pulled her hood over her face and made sure her wings were hidden from view. She took one final look around that of the place she had called home for the past couple hundred years, turned around and stepped outside of her small cottage just as the sun was beginning to rise. Silently she started her trek to Buckland, hoping and praying that this journey wouldn’t lead her into that of a lion's den.

★ ✩ ★

elven translations:

ada ➝ father

anna ➝ gift

forlond ➝ avariel kingdom

mellon nin ➝ my friend

my library

here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help

will update the list as I read

Thorin

Smoke, iron and Thorin

Fire and Gold

Learning Khuzdul

Braid of Gold

Thorin being soft

The Beauty of Chance

Those Hands

Misunderstanding

The arrival

A king's crown

Covered In Steam

There's just inches in between us

Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews

In This Moment 

Agreement

Symphony of your life

Oh so quiet

Confession

Find Your Way Back

Fili

fili oneshots

Moonrise

The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident

Stay with me

The Redeemer

Durin's Garage

Restless

Kili

The book keeper

insecurities

The beauty and the Beast

getting back at Kili for teasing

My Treasure

Madly in love

It's in his kiss

Love Bites

Sway With Me

Wood Carvings

Softly. . .

Sweet like nectar

A Shot in the Dark

Beorn

Early Mornings

Beorn takes care of you when you're injured

Linger

Legolas

Watcher of Wanderers

The Innocence of Brutality

Blessing

Sensitive

Being best friends with Legolas

Hazy Memories

Spellbound

Thranduil

Bookworm

Relax

Best friends father

Fascination

Flower On My Skin

To Meet Under the Stars

Passenger Princess

Autumn Thunderstorm

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

Haldir

Gentle Dark

Lindir

My Heart Is In Your Hands

Moonlight

Just a Little Help

Warriors Great Tales

The Fountain

Return to Me

Èomer

Burnt Bread

A Helping Hand

Wildest Dreams

Falling In Love With A Librarian

SFW alphabet

Happiness

A Roll in the Hay

Blessing

Turning Points

More characters

various characters oneshots

Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.

Journey to Erebor

Hair braiding

Elves + Braiding

What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company

Cuddling With Thorin's Company

Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.

The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader

Love my two Vengeful Elf Princes/Kings

Blonde Dilfs

This is so beautifully written 😍💕

Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy. 

The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left. 

Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect. 

Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention. 

Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.

Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone. 

You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize. 

One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp. 

Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable. 

The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair. 

Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance. 

The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years. 

Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found. 

You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?" At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort. " I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"

At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.

" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"

You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.

"I could say the same about you, prince."

He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.

"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.

"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.

"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."

"You don't need--"

"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."

So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.

"I think I'm technically your stepmother."

"But you feel more like a friend."

You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.

"Then I am glad we are friends."

Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.

Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.

"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."

He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.

Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.

Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.

When would this torment end?

---

The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you. 

Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.

The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care. 

“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough. 

A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?

“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.” 

Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.

“It was a bit gauche.”

Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own. 

“I thought it looked nice.” 

His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash. 

“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.

Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror. 

“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser. 

“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to martyr off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”

“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?” 

“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.

“To ensure an alliance with your family.”

“That is it? For no reason other than that.”

Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.

“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--

You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit. 

“I see.”

A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.

You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.

“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.” 

Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding. 

The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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Forbidden Cells

Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Description: Years prior Thranduil had been torn away from you after your relationship had been discovered. Under the impression you had left Mirkwood he never expected to find you in one of Mirkwood’s cells when he became king.

Warnings: None? Thranduil’s father being an ass.

Word count: 1482

Thranduil stood in front of the large mirror in his new room, gazing at the reflection of the crown that now sat atop his head.

Whenever he had imagined becoming king it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t because his father was mauled to death in an ambush by giant spiders, orc, wargs and whatever other creatures had a grudge against him. It wasn’t because his mother went mad with grief afterward and passed away before his ceremony could be held. But most of all, it wasn’t without you by his side.

When his father had torn you away from each other, his mother stood idly by, giving him that look, the one that said ‘your father is right, listen to him’, after a moment of carelessness, he’d never felt so betrayed or heartbroken. Or so he thought.

When his father had come to his room later and told him that you had agreed to leave Mirkwood and never return for the good of the elves all those emotions only became stronger.

Thranduil never questioned his father’s words. You’d expressed your doubts about your lowly status as an elleth before, how surely a high ranking elf or even a princess from one of the other elf communities would be better suited to marry him, become queen when he became king, but he brushed it off every time. If you thought it was for the good of him and the rest of Mirkwood to leave, you would.

And so Thranduil learned to shut his emotions off, to be the coldhearted prince everyone, including his parents, expected him to be. He did what he was told, he stayed away from the cells in the lower levels after his parents forbade him from going there, claiming that some of the criminals would like nothing more than to see him dead.

He became a shell of who he used to be.

Thranduil glanced around what used to be his parents room before silently slipping out the door. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep and had no intention of lying there, brooding over memories of the past.

Hearing the sounds of celebration from above - no doubt drunken elves using his new title as a reason to party - Thranduil silently made his way towards the lower levels.

His parents had told him to stay away from them, but that was when he was a prince. He was a king now, someone who people trusted to keep them safe, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t even know who was in his own cells.

Descending the steps he noticed that there were no guards, as they were most likely joining in on the festivals having already served the prisoners their supper.

Surprisingly, the cells were mostly empty bar a drunk dwarf who must have been caught sneaking into the party and brought to the cell until he was sober enough to find his way home without causing trouble. The only other cell occupied seemed to be the one furthest from the door. With the bars facing into the path all he could make out was low breathing and the shuffle of fabric against dirt as the occupant moved back into a corner hearing him approach.

Thranduil came to a stop in front of the cell, seeing the woman - elf or human? - who was huddled in a corner.

Her hair was long and tangled as shielded her face from his view. The skin he could see was dirty and discoloured by grime. Her dress was torn and…

Thranduil did a double take, the young king freezing in place. Despite the rips and dirt, he’d remember that dress anywhere. Of course he would. He’d had that dress custom made. 

That dress was the reason you weren't currently beside him as queen. After all, if he hadn’t given you the dress and told you to wear it to the moonlight dance being held that night then he would never have fallen in love with you all over again when he saw you in it.

He never would have risked kissing you, calling you meleth in a place where someone could walk around the corner and see you together.

You never would have left. But now… “Y/N?”

You looked up with a startled gasp at the familiar voice speaking your name.

When his parents had pulled him away to his room, the guards grasping your arms in tight grips and taking you to the throne room to await the king, you’d been terrified. Terrified of what your fate would be, terrified of how much trouble Thranduil would be in. Terrified of never being able to kiss him, or hug him, or even speak to him again.

And your fears were proved correct. The king had come back and had you dragged away to the dungeons for life. Or at least until his death, which didn’t seem likely to be anytime soon.

You’d been sure you’d never see your lover again.

But now… “Thranduil?” Your voice was raspy after years of having no one to talk to but now Thranduil stood in front of you, a crown upon his head, separated from you only by bars.

Thranduil struggled with words as he stood stared at you, poorly concealing his shock. Your face was just as dirty as the rest of you apart from dried tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were dimmer than he’d ever seen them and there was no trace of the smile he’d 

come to love.

Suddenly he seemed to snap back into action when you repeated his name in your raspy voice. “Stay there. I’ll be back.”

As Thranduill left the cells, continuing down to the cellar he inwardly chastised himself. ‘Stay there?’ What kind of statement was that to say to his lover he hasn’t seen in years, who was currently locked in a cell that he was going to get the keys to?

Thankfully, the cellar was also empty apart from a few elves who were fetching more wine for the party above.

They didn’t seem to see him as he silently took the keys off their hook, retreating back up the stairs.

You didn’t know what to think when Thranduil disappeared downstairs. You didn’t know what his father had told him about you but surely he hadn’t know you were here if he was that shocked. Or maybe he did and he just hadn’t expected to see you in such a condition?

And then there was the crown that rested on his golden locks. It looked good on him, there was no doubt about that, but what did it mean for you, both as a person and as a couple?

Would you be free? Would you ever be a couple again? Did he still love you? Probably not. After all, he was a king now, and even if you were free to go back to your life you were still a lowly servant.

You couldn’t help but shiver slightly as a chill swept through the cells just as Thranduil returned, a set of keys in his hands.

When Thranduil returned to the cell he caught you shivering, and it made his heart pang. If it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be here. But now he would get you out and spend as long as it took to earn your forgiveness, and maybe even your love back.

You watched as he fitted a key in the lock, turning it and pulling open the door, and for the first time in years there was nothing to separate you from him.

As Thranduil opened the door and crouched down to your level he couldn’t help but notice that you’d lost weight, and although you were still beautiful to him, you were no longer the healthy, happy elf he’d fallen in love with.

Your breathing was shaky and you could feel your heart speed up as the young king tentatively reached out to rest his hand on your cheek. Your eyes slipped closed for a moment as he ran his thumb across your cheekbone, but opened when you felt him pull away.

He studied you with a sorrowful gaze, his face only inches from yours. “Can you ever forgive me for letting this happen?” He murmured.

You blinked tears away. Why he would think this was his fault you didn’t know, but you couldn’t stand him being so close to you and looking so down.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You murmured, gently lifting a hand to pull his face to yours and connecting your lips.

For a moment Thranduil froze, before moving his lips with yours and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

You both pulled back, leaning your foreheads together for a moment before he scooped you up in his arms, standing and for the first time in years, taking you out of the cell and to somewhere you could be safe and loved.

Thranduil with a forgetful Significant Other

- If his SO is forgetful Thranduil will try to help in any way he can

- He will always either leave a note for you in the morning if he is busy and cannot join you for breakfast or he himself will list off things you might have forgotten over breakfast.

- Other times he’ll hint at something you have forgotten in a conversation

- “Mellon nin Lord Elrond responded to our letter he is to arrive in a few weeks time.”

- This usually sparks your memory such as remembering to start working on trade treaties for when Lord Elrond arrives

- If you misplace something and can’t seem to remember where you put it he’ll have the maids find it and put it back ‘where you left it’ so you don’t feel bad

- If you get angry at yourself for being forgetful Thranduil will reassure you everyone forgets sometimes, if that’s not enough he’ll make his letters or comments a little more specific so you have a more put together schedule

- He also does his best to be discreet about the forgetfulness so that others in the castle don’t begin to spread rumors

- Lots of times he’ll also mention times he forgot things like when he was a young prince he misplaced his crown

- If you write lists on your arm he’ll understand the practicality behind us but still doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like how it marks your body and how much more irked you get if you forget something that was on the list on your arm

- All in all if nothing else works Thranduil will give you so much affection that often times you forget about your anger towards your forgetfulness

- “Do not fret Mellon nin, it must not have been worth remembering… Unlike me”

Not Gonna lie just made this because I’m forgetful and have been having trouble with forgetting.

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤

- Eyes of a King Part 1

Thranduil x reader (soulmate AU)

On a trip to Paris you’re thrown into another world only to find out you’re soulmate is supposed to be a fictional character

- Eyes of a King Part 2

Thranduil x reader (Soulmate AU)

You’ve come to accept the situation you’re in, but Thranduil seems to avoid you

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

- Thranduil with a forgetful Significant Other

Part 1

Thranduil with a human SO

Meeting Thranduil

- Realistically I don’t think Thranduil would ever let himself get close to a new other half that’s human

- Thranduil would never be ready to watch his significant other die again especially that quickly, after all 50 years is a blink of an eye for an elf

- Throwing what is realistic out the window let’s say he does find a human significant other

- Even then you have to be a VERY intriguing human to catch his eye

- Most likely you met him when he and his guard stopped at Lake Town on the way to Erebor

- He was entranced by how you treated him like a normal person

- It was strange, most mortals trembled before his 7ft tall frame

- Not you, you simply welcomed him to the Inn and left to help clean the bar

- Of course Thranduil didn’t intend to sit at the bar at all considering he could easily drink wine that didn’t taste like piss in Mirkwood

- But he convinces himself he’s just being a good King by going down and checking on his soldiers

- Of course his soldiers were doing well, many of them where testing out how many ales they could hold down they found it was 74 pints

- You were now in front of the bar sweeping and humming a low melody under your breath

- He goes to grab your attention and moves besides you, only for you to crash into him

- Thranduil catches you by the hand and for a minute the two of you simply looked like you were dancing

- “Are you alright?”

- You blush with a sweet smile on your face (me writing this: do it, write the line. NOOOO I CAN’T. Don’t be a wuss do it! IT’S SO GENERIC. DO IT. )

- “Looks like I fell for you.” (I’m sorry) Thranduil is beyond taken aback and processes what you said after he fully pulls you up.

- His response is a strange look and “I’m glad your alright.” and he disappears to his room.

- You don’t see him the next morning either since he and his soldier left for Erebor when dawn broke

- Little did you know the King of Mirkwood had trouble sleeping that night

- When they came back through Lake Town Thranduil was exhausted

- Lacking sleep and arguing with pig-headed dwarves can do a lot to an elf

- After checking back into the inn he finds you working again and decided to once more check on his soldiers

- After glancing over all of them he turns his eyes towards you, he then proceeds to listen in on your conversation with the owner’s nephew; Thaine

- “I don’t get why you’re still here? You could be at home by now.” The boy looked to be turning into a man (18ish)

- You shrugged “I like listening to the elves, Síndarian sounds beautiful! It runs off the tongue with such elegance and it brings about a sense of calm.

- The boy replies “That’s great y/n but I don’t think you should be in the commons alone and I need to head home soon. Mother said to be home before midnight.”

- Looking at the boy you sighed and said “Alright, just let me pack up and tell the customers.”

- Before you say anything to the other elves Thranduil butts in after leaving his eavesdropping corner (I sWeAr I wAs DrOpPiNg No EaVeS sIr!)

- “I can watch over both her and my own men if she wishes to stay.” He looks to you with the slight raise of his eyebrows.

- Looking to Thaine you immediately reply “Absolutely fine with me!” With a wide smile right after.

- Shaking his head with a shrug Thain says goodbye and walks out

- Finally alone with the king you opt to break the silence

- “You do not have to stay if you do not wish to. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your bed.” You almost looked guilty as if second guessing taking Thranduil’s offer

- Thranduil was now also surprised at how genuine you seemed, you a mere mortal was just worried he wasn’t getting enough sleep

- His face betrays him as he shows some sense of curiosity and amusement “It is quite alright, I do not usually sleep much until we arrive back at Mirkwood. I find that sleeping on rocks throw out ones back.”

- You couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp and let slip “So the rumor is true? The dwarves sleep on rocks?!”

- At this point he couldn’t tell if the human was dumb or dense, but he instead went with uneducated

- For the rest of the night you asked questions about the race of dwarves and elves

- The soldiers silently questioned why the King took an interest in a human, but they kept quiet

- Thranduil did his best to answer your questions, at one point he even smirked instead of giving you a blank stare

- The next day Thranduil felt a bit disappointed when leaving, you were the most intriguing human he had met in a while.

- Although something Thranduil didn’t say was that the dwarves didn’t actually sleep on rocks he is just a diva who missed his ultra plush bed in Mirkwood

Why is it kinda giving gen z reader? Nah but I swear it’s like a tradition to randomly post a Thranduil Imagine every few months, my Tolkien Curse. Anyways I hope you enjoyed and please comment, repost and like!

It’s awesome babes! Your writing is fabulous as usual!

Pericardium

prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting - "I love you. That's why I have to leave." "Well, I love you too and that's why you have to stay."

Thranduil brainrot is GETTING ME its GETTING ME

masterlist

~~~

This was getting unbearable, I thought to myself. Climbing the stairs leading to the gardens was not what I was referring to, though they were rather tiring.

The unbearable part was having to live like my heart wasn't beating.

Let me explain.

I moved into Mirkwood years ago, under the request of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Assumedly, he'd thought that my experience with growing plants might be helpful in a place actively combating giant spiders.

He was right, as he normally is, but not for the reason he thought.

Instead, I'd found myself the right-hand of the Elven King himself. For no apparent reason at all - no background in diplomacy or in royal affairs helped rationalize just how I got here.

But that is not why you're here, is it?

Over the years by the King's side, I'd grown close to him. We shared hopes and heartbreaks, dreams and despairs. It felt healing, I suppose.

That closeness breached professionalism at times. It scared me.

Once that line was breached, there was no going back.

I had not even earned my position here. I was not a native to Mirkwood. How in Middle-Earth would Mirkwood's elves ever agree to such a union?

They would not, I decided. It made what I was about to do much easier.

I could not stop my heart from beating for long. I had to leave, quickly, before the traitorous thing choose to turn against logic yet again.

Surely Lord Elrond would welcome me back to Rivendell if I explained my situation, right?

The thought of leaving Mirkwood, the place I call home, as well as the king who rules it, forces my heart to skip a beat.

I must learn to live without a heart, I think. If only to curb the pain to come.

Rushing to the stables, I see my horse at the far end. My heart begins contracting in my chest. That is my cue to hurry the hell up, as the humans say.

One step after another. All to take me further away from here.

I clutch at my horse's hair. She dips her head down in recognition, letting me freely hug her close. My closest companion, now that I'm leaving.

It feels a little bit like burning at stake. Not that I know how that feels, but it's the most similar thing, I suppose.

My heart is being cooked in the flames of love.

I close my eyes to center myself for a minute. And like a good pie, I savor the moment.

Sighing, I open my eyes. "Let's get going, starlight."

"Go where?"

The sudden intrusion is startling, and I turn to look behind me.

Thranduil.

He looks stunning as always, like a star that's descended from the heavens. His eyes, the color of a clear sky, zeroed in on me.

"Well?" He tilts his head slightly. Every day I forget how speechless he makes me.

"I... I was just planning on taking a short ride around, my King."

To this he lifts an eyebrow. And smirks, damn him.

"Oh? May I accompany you, then?" He knows I can't deny him.

Not wanting him to know my true intent, I nod at him, "Certainly."

The slight smile gracing his face made everything else disappear. For a single moment, all I could see was him.

It took a minute to prepare, then we were off. Into the beautiful forest we call home.

~~~

I was busy admiring the tall grey-brown bark of the trees we were riding past when he broke the silence.

"Do you like it here?"

The question surprises me. Both in its suddenness and in its intimacy.

"Of course, my King. Why do you ask?"

I can feel his eyes on me, studying the map of my face. I can feel the blood pumping in my veins.

"If that's so, why does Elanor speak of your mentioning departure from Mirkwood?"

To this I advert my gaze. Caught.

He continues. "You seem to be more and more distant than usual. I can't help but wonder why."'

"Because I'm in love with you" My heart screams. I stay silent.

Thranduil notices this, and both his eyes and voice turn sharp.

"What are you hiding?"

I sigh softly. "My king, I must return to Rivendell."

He studies me, not believing a word.

"And I must leave soon. I did not want to cause any more burden to your shoulders, my King. That is why I did not tell you."

"You were never a burden. And did you not think of the panic your disappearance would cause in the palace? The panic you would cause me? You cannot just leave like that. Not without a proper reason." He gets more and more animated as he speaks, and I feel my temper rising to match his.

"I need to leave-"

"No you don't!"

"And go to Rivendell and-"

"Not without a reason! You can't just leave! I forbid it!"

His voice echoes in the forest. Mine follows suit.

"I love you! That's why I have to go!"

Ruined. That's what this friendship is.

He, for once, falls silent. His hair shifts as he turns to look at me, truly look at me. His eyes, once cold, are now softer.

"I love you too. And that's why you have to stay."

...What.

~~~

Brainrot is real because its happening to me

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.