#Thranduil x Reader oc

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Thranduil NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring and sweet. Wants to spend a lot of time wrapping his arms around his partner, like a mother koala. Will want to carry his partner to the bath and take his time with a gentle cloth

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, his hands and fingers. He loves how both elegant and powerful they can be. He adorns them with regal looking rings. Loves how they can give his partner both pleasure and pain

On a partner I feel like he loves hips. Great place to grab onto to manoeuvre and hold on tight while he’s fucking hard. Also a great place to anchor you as he holds you, running his fingers from the top of the rib cage all the way to the bottom of the hip and squeezing it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves to cum on his partner and will just look at them covered in cum for a bit while his breathing starts to calm down. He becomes almost amazed at how his partner looks

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I’ve seen heaps of people say how he wants to fuck his partner on his throne but I believe he wants to give oral on his throne. Is usually dominant but the almost taboo of having someone else sit on his throne and he be on his knees is something that always feels new and exciting to him

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had a small handful of experiences with partners before his wife but mainly just one night stands as a sexy young prince. I believe he got all of his experience and talent from his wife. Big hoe with one person sort of thing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style I’d say. Being able to control the pace so much and grab as much of his partner as he’d like. Pulling them up to have them flush against against his chest while he can grab at them too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not very goofy. Can be cute and sweet while his partner sits on his lap and he plays with them but never really goofy. Usually pretty serious in the heat of the moment but can switch to sweet and soft quickly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very groomed and sparse golden hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends. He likes to fuck hard and isn’t usually very romantic in the act but he definitely can be. If his partner needs him in that way he is more than happy to hold them, kiss them and sweet talk them while he makes love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not that often. Barely ever if he’s in a relationship and about once or twice a week if he’s not.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size and Kingly kink.

If it’s a human partner then there’s definitely a size/dominance kink, wanting to be in charge and dominant.

Would use his power and Royal position to push his dominance further. Making his partner call him ‘my king’ and ‘your highness’ really gets him going

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His throne or his big royal bed. Wants to be left alone with just him and his partner and be able to fuck however he likes.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When his adrenaline is raised from either training or battle and he’s finding his partner and fucking them hard.

Seeing his partner wearing formal/regal wear makes him want to reck them, ruining their beautifully done hair and pristine outfit.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No weapons, even a paddle. He never wants to make his partner bleed and he wants to be able to properly control the pain he gives, so hand spanking instead of a paddle every time

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves to both give and receive.

When he gives he holds his partner down and craves to overstimulate them with his mouth. His partner will never cum only once if he’s giving them oral.

He prefers to sit instead of laying down when receiving. Either on his throne or a big armchair. Loves to look down onto his partner and stroke their hair and talk dirty. He isn’t opposed to face fucking but prefers his partner take their time so he can tease them while they pleasure him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough when he’s fucking but slow and sensual with oral

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The version of quickies that he likes is dragging his partner away to somewhere quiet and using his fingers and hands to make them cum before going about his day. Sometimes he likes to see how many times he can quickly make them cum between duties.



R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Doesn’t really like to take many risks. He is king and while he likes to degrade his partner at times, he does keep his focus on keeping them safe and away from prying eyes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He will go as many rounds as his partner can take. If he takes a human partner he likes to go until they just pass out from pleasure. Can hold off from cumming for a long time but also doesn’t really have much of a refraction period so he can just keep going and going

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only toy he really has are plugs because he likes to bring his partner pleasure himself. Will put the plug in his partner and make them wear it at a fancy event.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loooovvvveeesss to tease. The teasing is done with light touches and whispered words in public. Drive his partner crazy while he acts so innocent and will never be caught in what he’s doing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lots of powerful grunts and looottttsss of dirty talk. He growls pretty loud when he cums but mainly lots of grunts and groans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If his partner is more of a casual thing he’d never be submissive but if he’s in a committed relationship with someone he loves to be taken care of in a submissive position. If his partner is AFAB he will want to get pegged and will want to suck and lick their strap.

In a committed relationship he loves his partner to be a soft dom every now and then. Not often, probably like once or twice a year.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A lot longer then average but pretty average width

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When not in a relationship it’s about average but in a relationship it goes right up. Wanting to fuck like every second day or something.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quickly at all. Will always wait until his partner falls asleep and is asleep for about 15-20 minutes before he even tries to drift off

#Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil imagine #Thranduil x oc #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #Thranduil fan fiction

[thewulf]

I Choose You || Legolas

Summary: Request - Hii hope you're having a good day, is it okay if I request a Legolas x reader where reader is Gandalf's granddaughter and joined the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring? They both slowly fell in love with each other along the way and when the incident in Moria happened where Gandalf dies, Legolas comforts her.

A/N: Thank you for the amazing request! Had a blast writing this as usual :) It's a lil long, so enjoy!

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.5k +

TW: Talks of war/death, war, death, orcs, general LOTR triggers

You stand silently amidst the gathered council fading into the background as best you could. The murmur of many voices echoing softly through the vaulted halls of Rivendell. The air is crisp, filled with the mingling scents of ancient scrolls and the distant freshness of autumnal leaves. Elves, men, dwarves, and even a few hobbits have come to discuss the fate of Middle-earth, their faces marked by concern and resolve.

Your grandfather, Gandalf the Grey, stands at the center of it all. His presence both commanding and comforting. You’ve always admired his wisdom and strength and today, more than ever, you feel the weight of your lineage. You are his granddaughter, gifted with a touch of his magical prowess and a deep love for the mysteries of this world.

As the debate swirls around you, Elrond, the lord of Rivendell calls for silence. His gaze settles on the small golden ring laid upon the pedestal. It’s simple form belying its terrible power. The task is clear though the path is fraught with peril: the ring must be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. "We must form a fellowship," Elrond declares. His voice resonant and clear. "Those who will take this burden upon themselves and walk into the shadow to see this evil undone."

A hush falls over the council. Eyes turn, some in fear, others in anticipation, seeking those who might step forward. This is the moment you’ve prepared for, not just since you arrived in Rivendell but throughout your life under Gandalf’s tutelage. With a breath that steadies your resolve you step forward. The rustle of your cloak is like a whisper against the stone floor and several members of the council turn in surprise as you move into the circle of light cast by the morning sun through the high windows.

"I will go," you say, your voice firm and clear. "For the love of my grandfather and for the safety of middle earth. I will see this quest through to its end."

Murmurs of approval ripple through the room and Gandalf meets your eyes across the circle. There’s pride in his gaze and a touch of sorrow, knowing well the dangers that lie ahead. But in this moment you see also the unspoken bond between the two of you. An acknowledgment of the shared commitment to what is right, no matter the cost.

Legolas, a prince of the Woodland Realm, nods to you with respect clear in his bright eyes. Beside him, a stout figure grumbles under his breath, yet Gimli the Dwarf gives a curt nod of assent, recognizing your courage. Beside them a young hobbit named Frodo, who is to be the Ringbearer, looks on with wide, earnest eyes. It is for him, and for all who call this land home, that you pledge your strength. As the council disperses to prepare for the journey you stand beside Gandalf feeling the ancient power of Rivendell around you and the even older strength that lies within your own heart. This is just the beginning you know but you are ready. For the Fellowship, for middle earth, for Gandalf.

You will face whatever comes, together.

As the Fellowship journeys south from Rivendell the path grows increasingly treacherous, winding through craggy mountain passes and shadowed forests. The air is crisp and the first frost of winter sparkles on the leaves. Your companions walk close together. Each step a testament to the weight of the task ahead.

Aragorn leads with a steady hand, his ranger skills essential as the terrain becomes more challenging. Beside him, Boromir of Gondor often lends his strength. His booming voice echoing off the stone trying to keep spirits high among the group, especially the hobbits—Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin—who find amusement in the smallest wonders along the way. Like the frost patterns on the leaves or a particularly stubborn squirrel.

Legolas glides effortlessly beside you. His elven grace a stark contrast to Gimli who stumps along with a determined scowl, his axe ever at the ready. Despite the solemnity of your mission the elf and the dwarf have already begun what seems to be an endless competition, each trying to outdo the other in tracking skills, strength, and the telling of tall tales.

One balmy afternoon as the path narrows along the edges of a steep ravine the rivalry comes to a head between the two of them. Gimli insists he can clear a particularly large fallen tree with a single vault much to Legolas’s skepticism.

“Watch and learn, Master Elf,” Gimli grunts as he began to back up for a running start. Legolas watches with an arched eyebrow, clearly very amused by the red headed dwarf travelling beside him.

Just as Gimli begins to charge forward you step in placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps, Gimli, it would be wiser to assist each other over the obstacle rather than compete with others. After all, the road ahead promises ample challenge for both of your strengths.” You smile warmly down at the ambitious dwarf set out to prove himself.

Gimli stops mid-stride puffing out his chest a bit as he turns to you, then to Legolas. “Hmm, perhaps you are right, lass. What say you, Legolas? Shall we make this journey a test of our cooperation rather than our competition?”

Legolas’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes sparkling with a newfound respect. “I believe our companion speaks wisely. Let us proceed together.” He offers his hand to Gimli who looks at it for a moment before shaking it heartily.

As the journey continues you find yourself often mediating and bringing lightness to tense moments. One evening as the Fellowship gathered around the campfire you recount a humorous anecdote from your days studying under your grandfather. Making sure to mimic Gandalf’s stern voice and dramatic gestures. The group erupts into laughter, the sound carrying through the trees and lifting the spirits of all including the hobbits who clap delightedly and ask for more stories.

Aragorn, sitting across from you nods appreciatively. His eyes meeting yours with a silent thank-you for the lightness you bring. Boromir chuckles, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes clearly more at ease. “You have the gift of your grandfather. Not only in magic but in spirit.” Aragorn comments, his voice warm in the chill air.

Legolas who was sitting beside you leans closer and speaks softly, “Your wisdom brings much-needed peace. And your humor is a light in dark times. It is a rare gift.”

You meet his gaze. The firelight cast dancing shadows across his features. All elves were beautiful but there was something about the Price of Mirkwood that drew you in. “We all carry our gifts, Legolas. Yours is your unerring optimism and sharp eye. Gimli’s his steadfastness and heart. Boromir’s his valor. Aragorn’s his leadership. And the hobbits’ their enduring cheer. Together we are stronger than each individual.”

As the nights grow longer and the path more daunting the bonds within the Fellowship deepen, fortified by shared challenges and your quiet efforts to understand, and support each other. In the quiet moments Legolas teaches you Elvish songs of old. And Gimli shares tales of the great Dwarven halls, their voices blending into the night creating a tapestry of friendship and hope.

As the Fellowship delves into the ancient depths of Moria the air grows thick with the mustiness of ages and the weight of stone. The walls echo with the memory of Dwarven voices, now silent. The path is lit only by the faint glow of Gandalf’s staff. Gimli moves with a mix of reverence and sorrow. His eyes reflecting a deep familial connection to the lost realm of his kin. The narrow passages twist and turn leading you deeper into the mountain’s heart. The quiet is oppressive, only broken by the occasional drip of water or the scuffle of a boot on stone. Tension mounts with each step and even the normally unflappable Legolas seems taut, his eyes scanning the shadows.

All too suddenly, the dark stillness erupts into chaos. A low growl escalates into a deafening roar as the Balrog, a creature of fire and shadow, reveals itself. The ground trembles beneath its weight and the air sears with heat. Gandalf steps forward his face set with grim determination. “Lead them on, Aragorn,” he commands. “The bridge is near. Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!” Your grandfather cries as he gives you a sharp look. Obey. You must listen to him now.

The Fellowship rushes forward driven by fear and the urgent need to escape, but you hesitate, your heart torn as Gandalf faces the monster alone. As the others cross the bridge of Khazad-dûm you watch, helpless, as Gandalf confronts the Balrog. His staff was raised, a brilliant light flaring to meet the darkness.

“You cannot pass,” Gandalf declares. His voice echoing powerfully. It sends a shutter down even your spine.

The Balrog advances and with a defiant cry Gandalf strikes the bridge with his staff. It crumbles sending the creature plummeting into the abyss. But the Balrog’s fiery whip lashes out, catching Gandalf’s leg, pulling him towards the edge. With a calm but utterly sad glance back at you, he murmurs, “Fly, you fools,” before falling into the darkness below.

Shock paralyzes you momentarily, tears blurring your vision. The others tug at you, pulling you away from the crumbling edge. As you flee Moria the loss of your beloved grandfather hits you. A deep ache that seems to echo through the empty halls. Outside, under the grey, mourning sky, the Fellowship collapses in a clearing. Each member grappling with grief. Your knees give out and you sink to the ground, overwhelmed by sorrow. Legolas is at your side in an instant, his presence a silent solace. He does not speak, but his hand finds yours, squeezing gently. A clear reminder that you are not alone.

Gimli joins you. His own eyes rimmed red. “He was the greatest of us all,” he says gruffly with his voice thick with emotion. “I am honored to have walked beside him and I vow to you, we will see this quest through. For him and for all our sakes.”

The words are a balm to your spirit even as you could not reply. Words were too hard for you now. You lean into Legolas, his strength supporting you. You mourn the loss of the only thing you knew. Legolas and Gimli by your side reminding you that even in the depths of loss, the bonds of friendship and love hold firm.

You manage to whisper a weak "Thank you," before the sorrow overwhelms you once more. Tears flood your cheeks, each one a memory, a moment shared with Gandalf that you'll never experience again. Overcome, you turn into Legolas's side, seeking the comfort that only close, physical presence can provide.  Though he was not typically fond of physical touch he does not hesitate to comfort you. He wraps his arms around you, his embrace firm and unwavering. In this moment your need transcends his usual reservations, and he holds you close. A silent sentinel in your hour of vulnerability.

His hands are steady on your back, one arm around your shoulders, the other at your waist, grounding you as your grief spills forth unchecked. Legolas's heart aches for your loss and though he may not express his emotions openly his actions speak a clear language of care and adoration. As you cry into his side, Legolas rests his chin atop your head. His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon where the last light of day gives way to twilight. He feels the weight of your sorrow as if it were his own, yet he knows he must stand strong for you.

Legolas knows that the road ahead will be fraught with further trials but for now, he offers you all that he can—protection, comfort, and an unspoken promise that no matter what lies ahead, you will not face it alone. In the stillness that wraps around you and Legolas there's a respectful pause from the rest of the Fellowship. They were giving you a moment to collect yourself under the cloak of Legolas's support. Aragorn, ever attentive to the needs of his comrades, notices the depth of your grief and the comfort Legolas provides. He understands the significance of this moment, the necessity of mourning and the importance of support in such times.

Standing a short distance away Aragorn speaks quietly with the hobbits making sure everyone is ready to continue but delaying their departure ever so slightly for your sake. His leadership is subtle. His decisions shaped by a deep understanding of his people's emotional and physical stamina.

After a brief moment, Aragorn looks over, his eyes meeting Legolas’s over your bowed head. There’s a silent communication between them. A leader’s acknowledgement and a friend’s gratitude for the support given to one of their own. Aragorn’s face softens, his respect for whatever was forming between you two clear in his gentle nod.

With a deep breath, signaling both readiness and respect, Aragorn approaches. His voice is soft yet carries a necessary urgency as he speaks. His words meant to soothe but also to remind of the path ahead. “We must move on for night will not wait for us and neither will our enemies,” he spoke with his tone conveying both compassion and resolve. “Take the time you need but remember we must not linger long.”

Legolas gently helps you stand straighter his arms still offering support. As you wipe away the last of your tears, strengthened by the comfort you’ve received, you nod in understanding. Legolas gives you a reassuring look. His eyes promising continued support and then he gently releases you. He was ready to stand by your side as you all prepare to resume the journey. With a final glance at Gandalf’s last stand you and the Fellowship gather your gear and set off once more into the fading light. The memory of Gandalf a guiding light that pushes you forward through the darkness.

Emerging into the sunlight of the world again does little to lift the sorrow of the Fellowship which soon deepens with Boromir’s tragic fall at Amon Hen. His valiant defense of Merry and Pippin against the Uruk-hai, though ultimately costing him his life, marked him forever a hero in the annals of your journey. The loss of such a stalwart companion leaves a void in your heart and within the group, casting a pall over your spirits.

Driven by a fierce determination to honor Boromir’s sacrifice, you, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli give chase across the plains of Rohan to rescue Merry and Pippin from their captors. The pursuit is grueling. Pushing each of you to your very limits. The landscape of Rohan is vast and relentless, but the tracks are clear, guiding you unerringly toward the thick fringes of Fangorn Forest. The hope of rescuing the hobbits fuels your weary bodies onward even as your hearts ache with the memory of Gandalf's fall and Boromir’s courageous end.

As you follow the trail into the shadowy depths of Fangorn a sense of ancient watchfulness grows. The forest feels alive, old beyond reckoning, and filled with secrets. It is here among the whispering trees that the unexpected happens. A figure steps out from the shadows garbed in white, his presence bright against the dark underbrush. The shock of seeing what you believe might be Saruman stops you in your tracks. But as the figure approaches the energy changes—the air around him shimmers with a familiar warmth and power. Not the cold malice of Saruman.

"Gandalf?" Legolas breathes. A note of awe mingling with disbelief.

You squint, hardly daring to believe it to be true. As he draws closer, clarity dawns, and recognition floods your senses. Overcome with emotion you shout, "Grandfather!" and sprint toward him. Your heart swelling with joy and relief.

Gandalf opens his arms wide, and you crash into his embrace. The impact strong yet comforting. "My dear child," he murmurs. His voice warm and welcoming as he wraps his arms around you. His cloak envelops you with a familiar scent of pipe-weed and the road clinging to the fabric grounding you in the reality of his return.

"Yes, it is I," Gandalf responds gently, now looking down at you with sparkling eyes, "but as Gandalf the White. I come back to you at the turn of the tide. Stronger and renewed. Just as our hope must now be."

The grief at Boromir’s death and the shock of Gandalf's return blend into a complex tapestry of emotions. The initial shock gives way to a festive air as relief and joy wash over Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. They join in, their earlier despair replaced by laughter and words of amazement, forming a tight circle around you and Gandalf.

As Gandalf explains his battle with the Balrog and his subsequent rebirth his words filling the gaps in your understanding and rekindling hope in your hearts. His return not only signifies a miraculous second chance but also invigorates the Fellowship with renewed purpose and determination. With Gandalf's guidance now as Gandalf the White you all feel a renewed sense of purpose. The path forward is still fraught with danger but with Gandalf returned, and in memory of Boromir’s bravery, you are reminded that even in the darkest times there can be resurrection and hope. Together you prepare to resume the quest, stronger and more determined than ever.

"Your guidance has been sorely missed, Gandalf," Aragorn says. His voice steady but thick with emotion as he joins you. He captures the mood of the moment, channeling the Fellowship’s relief into focus. "What should we do? Frodo and Sam are gone to Mordor. Merry and Pippin are captives of the enemy." Gandalf releases you from the embrace but keeps one hand on your shoulder, grounding, and comforting. He surveys the small group with a decisive gaze and the air around you seems to thrum with renewed energy and urgency.

"We will split our efforts," he declares. "Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and you," he nods at you, "will pursue the orcs who took Merry and Pippin. Every second counts and your skills will be crucial in navigating this perilous chase."

You try and protest, but he shakes his head continuing along. "Meanwhile, I shall seek aid from the Ents of Fangorn," Gandalf continues, turning to look at the dense woods behind him. "Their strength will be necessary in the wars to come. We must rally all allies for the shadow from the East grows ever bolder."

As plans are made Legolas stands close by your side, his presence a silent vow of protection and partnership. You feel his hand briefly squeeze yours. A gesture of support that sends a surge of warmth through your heart that he had done so many times before.

"You have grown much, under shadow and trial," Gandalf remarks. Looking at you with a blend of pride and affection With the reunion drawing to a close and the path forward set you all prepare to leave. Gandalf’s return has not only brought back a beloved mentor and friend but has reignited the flame of hope within your heart. Together you feel ready to face the challenges that await knowing that the bonds of friendship and duty will guide you through the darkest of times.

As you traverse the expansive lands towards Rohan the camaraderie within the group deepens, each member adjusting to the rhythms of travel and the complexities of intertwined destinies. Amidst these dynamics your relationship with Legolas finds new ground. The elven prince, always serene and composed, begins to show a more attentive and tender side in his interactions with you. His glances linger longer and his conversations, once filled with tales of ancient elven lore, now often drift towards thoughts and dreams of the future, your future.

It’s during one of the long nights while camped under the vast, starlit sky near the borders of Fangorn Forest, that Gimli noticed the growing tension between you and Legolas. He decided to give you both some space. With a knowing wink and a gruff voice Gimli volunteers for the first watch, his tone unusually gentle. "I reckon the night is best shared with stars and heartfelt words, not an old dwarf's snoring."

Grateful, you share a smile with Legolas as Gimli settles a little distance away, his back to you, affording you a semblance of privacy. Legolas turns to you with his blue eyes reflecting the starlight, and for a moment he simply looks at you as if contemplating a thought long held in silence. "I have seen many wonders in my long life," he starts, his voice soft and mesmerizing under the night sky. "But none compared to the courage and kindness I've seen in you. In these trying times you have become a light guiding me."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you feel a warmth spread through you. "And you, Legolas, have been my solace. In you I find peace amidst turmoil. A joy that even the darkest shadows cannot diminish." He smiles. His gaze intensifying with affection and something more, something unspoken yet palpable between you. Then, in a move that surprises you both for its boldness and its intimacy, Legolas shifts closer and gently pulls you into his side. It's a daring gesture for an elf, particularly one as reserved as Legolas. But it feels right as if many paths had converged to bring this moment into being.

The warmth of his body against yours, the protective embrace of his arm—these are things you never expected to find so far from home. "It seems we have found comfort in one another's presence," he says softly. "Would that we might find a way to keep this light alive… no matter what lies ahead?"

"I would like that very much," you whisper as you leaned into the strength of his embrace.

The two of you sit under the blanket of night talking softly of dreams for a peaceful future and the immediate plans for the days to come. The reality of the quest remains but for now, under the stars, you both allow yourselves the luxury of imagining a life beyond the war. Both of you bound by a newfound affection that promises to grow with each passing day.

At Helm's Deep the air is thick with the tension of impending battle. The great fortress, built into the deep folds of the mountain, stands as the last bastion of hope against the relentless march of Saruman's forces. As the sky darkens and the torches flicker against the night you stand on the ramparts beside Legolas watching the sea of enemies gathering in the distance.

Legolas turns to you, his expression clouded with concern. “You should not be here,” he says softly. His voice barely above the howl of the wind. “This battle... it is not like the ones before. I fear—”

“I know,” you interrupt, understanding his fear but meeting his gaze with a resolve that mirrors the steel of the swords of your comrades below. “I know what this battle could mean for all of us. But I must stand with you, with all of you. There is no other place for me now, Legolas.”

Seeing the determination in your eyes, Legolas's expression softens and he pulls you gently against his side. It was a bold move for him, especially in such a public setting. “Then we will face it together,” he says squeezing your hand tightly as a silent promise passes between you.

The night deepens and the enemy’s drums beat a terrifying rhythm that seems to match the racing of your heart. Legolas pulls you closer. His eyes searching yours in the dim light. “No matter what happens tonight, know this,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the chaos swelling around you. “I love you. I have loved you amidst the shadows of our journey, and I will love you beyond the reaches of time.”

Your breath catches at his words. The simplicity and depth of his confession anchoring you amidst your fears. “And I love you,” you repl. Your voice strong even though you felt so weak. “Whatever may come, whatever we face… we face it together.”

As the battle commences the air fills with the clash of steel and the cries of warriors. You fight back-to-back, Legolas’s arrows finding their marks with deadly precision while you fend off attackers with sword and spell.

Gimli joins two of you, his axe a blur as he protects your flank. “Ha! I’d like to see them try to break this line!” he bellows. His voice a rumble of thunder over the din of battle.

The hours stretch. Each moment a lifetime but you fight with a clarity borne of love and the will to protect not just middle earth but the futures you hope to share. Legolas’s presence is a constant reassurance. His quick glances amidst the fray a reminder of everything worth fighting for.

As dawn breaks the tide of battle shifts. With Gandalf’s timely arrival and the charge of the Rohirrim, a new hope is rekindled. The enemy falters and breaks. Exhausted but alive, you, Legolas, and Gimli regroup, your bodies weary but spirits lifted by the victory, however costly it may have been.

Standing amidst the ruins of the battle you all share a look of relief and unspoken understanding. The war is far from over, but the strength of your bonds, the depth of your love, and the courage of your friends give you the fortitude to press on, to fight another day. With Legolas watch the sunrise, the light washing over Helm’s Deep painting the world in hues of gold and red. A daily rebirth, a reminder that after darkness there always comes a new dawn.

After the long shadow of war finally lifts with the destruction of the One Ring the world begins to breathe again. Minas Tirith stands gleaming under the bright sun, its banners waving in a joyous breeze. The streets are filled with music and laughter as people from all corners of middle earth gather to celebrate the victory. The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers brought forth by a spring that signifies not just the changing of seasons but the dawn of a new era.

You, Legolas, and Gimli stand on a balcony overlooking the jubilant city with a cup of fine wine in hand. The Fellowship has been honored by kings and lords, sung by minstrels, and cheered by crowds. But in this moment, the three of you share a quiet moment that speaks of deeper bonds forged in the fires of your shared trials.

Legolas looks out over the city, his eyes reflecting the green of the fields below. “The world is changed,” he says thoughtfully. “I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air. The darkness that once threatened to swallow us whole is now but a shadow of the past.”

Gimli nods. His eyes twinkling under his bushy brows. “Aye, and it’s time for more pleasant journeys,” he chuckles. “I promised you both a tour of the Glittering Caves, did I not? And I intend to keep that promise. You’ll find no finer sight beneath the mountains, mark my words!”

“And I,” Legolas adds turning to you with a gentle smile, “would have you both come to Mirkwood. The forests have suffered in the darkness. But they recover, much like us. There are places of such beauty and tranquility that they deserve to be witnessed with friends.”

You sip your wine, letting the rich flavors linger on your tongue as you consider the future. “And what of you?” Gimli asks, looking at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

“I think,” you say slowly, smiling at the possibilities that stretch before you, “that I would like to see more of this world that we have fought so hard to save. From the forests of Mirkwood to the caves of the mountains and perhaps even beyond. There’s so much to explore, so much to learn.”

“And so much to rebuild,” Legolas adds. “Wherever we go we carry with us the legacy of those who fought beside us. Those who fell, and those who lived to see this day. Gandalf’s wisdom, Aragorn’s courage, and even Frodo’s quiet determination—they remain with us, guiding us forward.”

Gimli raises his cup, and you and Legolas do the same. “To the future,” Gimli declares heartily.

“To peace,” Legolas adds, his voice warm.

“To friendship,” you conclude. The three of you clink your cups together, the sound crisp and clear.

As the celebration continues below you lean against the stone railing admiring the city sprawling at your feet. Around you the laughter and music rise to the starlit sky, and you feel a profound sense of contentment. The road ahead is uncharted, but you face it not as a lone wanderer but as part of a fellowship that has endured the darkest of times to see the brightest of days.

With Legolas and Gimli by your side you know that whatever adventures lie ahead, they will be filled with joy, discovery, and the unbreakable bonds of friendship. This is not the end of your story but the beginning of a new chapter, one that you will write together.

As the celebrations in Minas Tirith begin to quiet down into a gentle hum of merriment and the evening deepens, Gimli, with a knowing grin and a subtle nod towards Legolas excuses himself to “inspect the integrity of the ale supply,” leaving you two alone on the quieter side of the terrace that overlooks the city’s sprawling, illuminated gardens.

Legolas watches Gimli depart and then turns to you with a serene expression. His eyes reflecting the myriad lights of the city. He reaches into the folds of his tunic and pulls out a small, exquisitely carved wooden box. “I have something for you,” he says. His voice low and filled with a tender emotion that sends a thrill through your heart.

You watch, curious and expectant, as he opens the box to reveal a pendant. It’s a delicate piece, shaped like a leaf but crafted with such intricacy that each vein in the leaf is visible. It shimmered with a light that seems to emanate from within the silver itself.

“This is a leaf from the Mallorn trees of Lothlórien,” Legolas explains as he carefully lifts the pendant from the box. “Galadriel herself gave this to me before we departed and though I cherish it... I believe it was always meant for you.”

He steps closer. His presence so familiar and yet so heart-stirringly profound at this intimate moment. “In the elven tradition,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, “to give such a gift is to choose a companion. To offer a token of one’s heart and soul. I give this to you not out of obligation but from a free and willing heart. I choose you and it’s you I wish to be with through all the ages of this world.”

He pauses while holding the pendant up between you. His eyes searching yours for an answer, a confirmation of your feelings. You nod gently, overwhelmed by the emotion in his gaze and the significance of his gift.

Legolas smiles, a soft, joyous curve of his lips, and delicately clasps the pendant around your neck. His fingers brush lightly against your skin as he secures the clasp sending shivers down your spine. The metal feels warm as if charged with his affection and presence.

“I cannot promise that the road ahead will be free from hardship,” Legolas says softly while drawing you close so that your foreheads touch lightly, “but I can promise that you will never walk it alone. Where you go I will follow. And where I go I hope you will be by my side.”

“Legolas,” you whisper. Your voice thick with emotion. “There is no one else I would rather have by my side. No one else I would want to share my path with. I choose you, too, today, and always.”

Without hesitation Legolas leans in to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s gentle at first. A tender meeting that speaks of mutual respect and deep affection. But as you respond the kiss deepens, becoming a profound expression of your shared love and commitment.

The world around you—the city of Minas Tirith, the sounds of celebration—fades into a blissful quiet. In this moment wrapped in Legolas’s embrace, you realize that while the war might have brought you together it is love that will lead you into your future. Beneath the stars and above the glowing city you share a promise of a thousand sunrises to come. Each one a new day to explore and cherish the world together.

Taglist Sign Up: @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kenn-spencerswifey @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

#legolas x reader #legolas x gimli #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #legolas greenleaf #gimli #legolas #the lord of the rings #legolas x oc #legolas fanfiction #legolas and gimli #legolas fluff #legolas fic #legolas thranduilion #legolas lotr #legolas au #legolas and thranduil #king thranduil #legolas imagine #legolas one shot #legolas oneshot #legolas tharanduilion fluff #king thranduil platonic reader #the fellowship #lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #lotr #hobbits #lotr x reader #lotr x you

[gulnarsultan]

🍃İmagine🍃

Thranduil enjoys suddenly kissing your cheeks deeply and then seeing your reactions. Her face turning pink with embarrassment. Try not to stutter. And you try to act like nothing happened.

#thranduil x you #thranduil x reader #thranduil x oc #thranduil oropherion #thranduil #lotr fanart #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanart #thranduil imagine #tolkien elves

[elfy-elf-imagines]

— In the Fields of Poppy | Thranduil *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Angst (mentions of death and the aftermath of war)

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies, you have a chance encounter with the King.

▹ Notes: This is unedited because we die as men! Also because I'm sleep deprived rn. Let me know what you thought!

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

The carnage had been terrible; the aftermath of the battle more brutal than any recount would ever fully capture. 

Broken stained glass mosaics formed with blood from all sides of the battle glistened in the sun. There was a heavy fog that clung to the ground, the wails of survivors finding the corpses of their loved ones. You couldn’t focus on it, blocking out as much of the noise as possible. Later you would feel the weight of the lives lost, you were certain, but for now, there was work to be done. 

You kneeled before the squirming body of a dwarven soldier, too delirious off his own pain to scorn the healing of an elvish maid. There was a cut on his leg that was bleeding profusely, his skin showing the beginning signs of infection from the poison the orcs used. He was muttering in Khuzdul, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. His eyes were locked on the sun, and if there weren’t other grievous injuries taking priority, you would’ve reminded him to not stare at the sun. But who cares for blindness if you’re already dead?

With ghost-like touches and careful concentration, you placed the healing salve on his leg, cleaning the wound as best you could beforehand. He hissed in pain from the contact, his eyes no longer looking at the sun but at you. He continued to speak in Khuzdul, this time at you, with spite and pain written on his face. You weren’t concerned, continuing to work as you numbed yourself to your surroundings. 

A group of elven soldiers marched past you, carrying the body of their fallen comrade, faces stricken with grief. Your eyes darted away from the sight and returned your attention to carefully wrapping your patient’s leg with bandages. 

“I don’t have anything for the pain, I’m afraid,” you said to him, briefly meeting his eyes that went back to looking at the sun. He muttered incoherently, and while he spoke Common this time, his words were lost on you. 

Tying the final bandage, you then began the same work on the rest of his wounds. More wails and more dead bodies carried from the battlefield, but you blocked it all out. There was no time to be swallowed in the suffering. Once all his wounds had been tended to and your dress was drenched in the blood of another patient, you stood from the ground. A dwarven soldier rushed forward to bring his comrade to the tents where the injured were resting. Words of thanks fell from his mouth, but you had already turned away, moving towards the next person. 

This time it was an elf, so young he couldn’t be more than a century old. Old enough to serve in the guard but too young to die; it made you sick to your stomach. There was a gash near his neck, the veins around it turning black. The poison had already gotten into his system; it was only a matter of time before it took him. Yet you kneeled beside him and gently placed his head in your lap as you began cleaning the wound. 

Unlike the dwarf from before, his eyes met yours, a grin on his lips. It looked out of place on his face, contorted into pain. He spoke softly in elvish, reciting an old song that mothers usually sang to their children when putting them to bed. As the cold salve touched his neck, he froze up, twitching slightly at the sensation.

Silence enveloped the two of you, he no longer sang, yet his eyes stayed on you. A stray piece of hair had fallen from your messy braid, the elf reaching up and grabbing it. He held it between his fingers, mouth parted and eyes a thousand miles away. 

“Naneth--” he trailed off, muttering more incoherent words. You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to continue working as a spark of pain reactivated your cold heart. He called you mother; the poison must’ve already reached his head, making him see things that weren’t there. 

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as you looked away to reach into your healer’s kit. He must’ve been so terrified as death came closer, seeking comfort in a mother that wasn’t even here. You didn’t have the heart to correct him. Let the boy have a small bit of comfort. 

With a strip of bandage in your hand, when your eyes went back to his body, his eyes were shut, and his breathing ceased. Dead. 

Your hand fell limp at your side, eyes unmoving from his face. He looked at peace, expression no longer twisted in pain. A shuttered breath escaped your mouth, the chill in the air allowing you to see it blow away. You stood with shaky legs and trembling hands, two soldiers approaching to take his body away.

You’d been a healer for as long as you could remember, training for this since you were a little elfling running wild. Time allowed you to become numb to tragedy, keeping a clear head to do what needed to be done. But the elven boy’s death managed to stab a needle right through your heart. He was so young and vibrant, his potential severed by senseless war. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, like the ashes of the bodies the humans were burning. 

The mud squashed beneath your feet, eyes unseeing. You were a ghost on the battlefield, blood-stained dress blowing in the wind. How did the other healers seem so emotionless? Was the bite of death something that lessened the more you were near it? In a few years, would you have a disposition that was nearly mechanical? A part of you hoped for that release, while the other part of you was terrified by it. 

You turned, eyes meeting the misty blues ones of King Thranduil. He stood a few feet away from you, a vision amongst the dead. Tall and noble, he looked every bit the king he was. Golden like the dawn, his hair was loose and messy, and his previously pristine armor was dirty with mud and blood, cuts and minor wounds marring his body. Yet he looked eerily perfect. 

His stare was heavy, yet you refused to be the one to look away. A hint of a smirk appeared on the edges of his lips as his head tilted to the side. Long and sure strides brought him closer to you while you stayed locked in place. The king stood before you, towering over your smaller form. You may have been on the taller side; he made you feel as though you were a hobbit.

“What is your name?” 

You lowered your head in a half-bow, a pathetic attempt to show respect, not entirely accustomed to the presence of royalty. 

“Y/N, my king.”  

He nodded, mouthing your name as if to commit it to memory.

“Do you live in Eryn Galen? I have never seen you.”

“I grew up in Lothlorien, where I spent most of my life before training to be a healer in Imladris. I have only recently moved to Eryn Galen.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and clasped his hands behind his back. 

“How lucky we are to have a student of Lord Elrond among us.” You could discern if his words were patronizing or genuine, his tone not betraying his intentions. 

“I did not train under Lord Elrond personally.” You felt the need to correct him, not wanting him to think you of a higher station than you were.

“But your teachers were overseen by him, were they not?”

You nodded.

“Then you were trained by Lord Elrond, even if he himself didn’t oversee your education.” 

A small smile appeared on your lips, and you nodded. “I have no choice but to agree; who would I be to disagree with a king.”

A coy smile pulled on the edges of his lips as his eyes shone. 

“A foolish woman is who you would be. Walk with me?” It was phrased as a question, but he didn’t wait for your answer. His long strides carried him towards camp, and you had no choice but to follow.   

“Tell me, do you plan on staying in Eryn Galen long?” His voice was crisp but quiet enough that only you could hear them.

“I do. I have grown fond of the people and its forest.” You spoke genuinely and truthfully. The wood elves were reclusive and suspicious, but once you broke through those barriers, they were full of merriment and loyalty. You cherished the relationships you had already formed and were eager for more. 

“Even in its sickly state,” his tone was sardonic but not enough to hide the pain in his voice. How terrible it must’ve been to see his home twisted into something so evil while powerless to stop it. 

“I believe there is still hope for it to be returned to health.”

Thranduil stopped in his tracks, eyes meeting yours. You stopped as well, patiently waiting for what he may say next. His expression was unreadable, eyes searching yours for the answers to questions you didn’t know. 

Wherever he was searching for, it sent shivers down your spine and made goosebumps form on your arms. The moonlight was kind to him, bathing him in a silvery light that made him look like the elves of Lothlorien who always seemed to shine. You felt your heart stutter as butterflies formed in your stomach. 

It could’ve been a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn there was a hint of affection in his bright eyes. After the death of his wife, rumors spread of his cold demeanor and harshen disposition. But now, before you, none of those adjectives seemed suited for him. As soft as the stars and as beautiful as the moon, how could he be anything but good and kind?

“I hope that you are right.” He finally broke the silence, eyes raising to the sky before he continued walking, and just as before, you matched his strides. Neither of you spoke, relishing in the silence after a terrible day full of death and terror. 

Finally, the both of you stopped in front of the tent that was yours.

“It was good to meet you today, Y/N. I hope to see you again; I find your company pleasant and your conversation enjoyable.”

A red flush made your face warm, and a child-like grin appeared on your lips. As light as a feather, you would’ve floated away had the king not grabbed your hand, delicately placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

When he released your hand, you lowered into a half curtsey, the movement not as fluid due to your dress that was stiff from the dried blood covering it. 

“It was an honor to speak with you, my king. I wish you a good rest tonight.” 

He smirked in a way that made your flush deepen.

“And if I find it difficult to find rest, will you brew me a tea to lull me to sleep.” 

“Herbology happens to be my specialty.” 

Thranduil gave a single, firm nod, yet his eyes never moved from yours. The affection you’d seen before was brighter, easier seen in the dim lighting. And you were certain your eyes portrayed the same attraction. Could this be the beginning of something wonderful?

“Then I shall know who to call upon in my hour of need.” He lowered into a full bow, his cloak billowing around him. You took a step back, a bout of giggle escaping your mouth. Who would’ve thought the stern king had a sense of humor?

“Farewell, my lady.” 

He then swept off further into the camp, and you stayed in your spot, watching his form disappear, only moving once you could no longer see him. You turned and entered your tent, hand placed upon your flushed cheek. As you readied yourself for bed, the encounter with Thranduil replayed in your mind. And suddenly, you found yourself dancing alone, unable to push back your excitement. 

And as you lay in bed and shut your eyes, you desperately hoped this would only be the beginning and not where the story would end. 

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

Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare |

#thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit one shot #the hobbit #lotr imagine #lotr fanfic #middle earth imagines #lord of the rings #lord of the rings oneshot #mirkwood elves #tolkien #lotr #lord of the rings imagine #thranduil #thranduil x oc #elf!reader

[zoozvie]

Imagine: a Dragonborn in The Hobbit

With my poor memory of Tolkien lore, my love for D&D, and just fantasy in general, I've been thinking about a Dragonborn reader going on the adventure to the Lonely Mountain with the dwarven company + 1 Burglar, and sometimes a Wizard.

Please be chill about semantics, I'm so terribly sleep-deprived.

I like to imagine Reader as a Dragonborn can shift and phase through how much of a dragon they look like. Their more human form makes them look odd, something is still strange about them, but most don’t know they’re hiding something unless they are receptive to magical concealment.

Reader is picked up and tagged along with the company shortly before they reach the elven woods, so the dwarves are wary of them because of what has happened to their bloodline involving dragons. Thorin is the least trusting, accusing them and being nitpicky about how they are with the party.

Thranduil is also not pleased with a dragon walking among the dwarves when they get captured in the Mirkwood forest, because of his own history. He can see through their lie to conceal themselves very quickly.

The elves put them on the spot when Thorin and Thranduil are bickering and Thorin is also intrigued by the interrogation.

Their response is more so, “Would you look at yourselves, see how well you get along because you both hate dragons?”

When questioned if they will turn on the dwarves, and the elves then after, because of the temptation of gold in the lonely mountain they reassure that gold is not their fascination, and they have no interest in keeping it. 

Everyone gets into it about dragon hordes, and yes they’re dragon-like but not wholly a dragon, and yes they collect things but a massive hoard is too overkill they prefer something more personal. 

This forces them to show everyone a sachet hanging from their belt pouch containing smooth and bright-colored stones, sea shells, and things you’d find on the ground. The Dragonborn is very uncomfortable doing this and gets quiet and grumbly, eyes calculating where everyone is around their “hoard”.  (While traveling on this adventure, an acorn Bilbo gives them is added to the sachet, to remember him by)

This is only step one of proving to the others that Dragonborns are not entirely dragons, everyone makes their own choices and has their path in life so we should just not assume someone’s entire character based on their birth, right? Hopefully, the Dragonborn can get through to everyone so they'll at least calm down enough to lessen the tension. Or else this will indeed be a long, long journey.

(Bonus points if Reader sings the Misty Mountain song, as an offering to show that they’ll stand by the dwarves)

#imagines/prompts master tag #the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x reader #dragon reader #dragonborn reader #fanfiction prompt #fanfic prompt #imagines #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit thorin #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #bilbo baggins #thranduil #the elvenking #thranduil x reader #thranduil x oc #dwarves #hobbits #gandalf #the lonely mountain

[gotranting]

I love how there are so many warnings for minors to not interact with smutty stories. I guess it is for the writers to shield themselves in a way.

But come on now. As if most of us didn't read the most filthiest of smut stories when we were 15. Some younger than that probably.

#fanfiction #one shots #imagines #fanfic #fandoms #sterek #harry potter #marvel #loki x reader #maraurders #sansan #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd #game of thrones #thranduil x reader #johnlock #anyhow #x reader #x oc

[sotwk]

Thranduilion Interactive "Letter Exchange" Game

Since I first encountered posts of people saying they "love" or "need" Character AI or other chatbot AI services because they're lonely or think it's fun to talk to their favorite fictional characters, I've been toying with the idea of starting one of those "interactive blogs". I think it could be fun to provide a chat game that will entertain/comfort and also prove that AI cannot emulate the heart of real writing.

I was a forum roleplayer for over 10 solid years (starting with LOTR actually), so I like to think (I hope??) I have some chops in this area.

That being said, I would need to narrow down the character scope to just Thranduil's family and the Greenwood Elves. Otherwise, it would be far too much for me to keep up with on top of everything else on this blog. I'm actually counting on interest/engagement to be very low, and low enough for me not to feel swamped.

Obviously I'm still new to this format and will need to figure out how it's properly done, as well as the rules, but there will not be a separate blog for this. I think activity would be low enough that I can throw it into the overall SotWK bag o' "stuff".

The process itself should be super simple:

Step One: Asker/Reader (Anon allowed) sends a "letter" or "note" to the chosen character via SotWK Ask Box. Could be one sentence, could be pages of prose.

Step Two: SotWK answers the letter in that chosen character's voice.

Characters that would be immediately available:

Elvenking Thranduil (as a father-figure, non-romantic)

Elvenqueen Maereth (as a mother-figure, non-romantic)

Crown Prince Mirion

Prince Turhir

Prince Arvellas

Prince Gelir

Prince Legolas

Feren, soldier of the kingsguard

Info about these characters can be found in my Headcanon Masterlist. I will definitely be writing and posting more if/when this "game" launches.

Here is a poll to get a general idea of overall interest:

Reblogs would be greatly appreciated to help spread the word and gather more input! :) Thank you!

#this could be a terrible idea but i might as well try #and put it out there #at the very least it will motivate me #to continue working on my true passion project #which is the Thranduilion AU #sotwk announcement #sotwk ocs #thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduilion #legolas #legolas thranduilion #legolas x reader #mirkwood elves #greenwood the great

[ravensliterature]

Poisoned Arrow

A/N: I know it’s been a minute and I am sorry. I really had a blast writing this one and I hope you like it!

Part II

pairing: Thranduil x Reader

warnings: Mentions of blood, poison, fluff, 

w/c: 1924 (Yeah she is a little long)

Prompt: The reader is Thranduil’s wife and a part of the company. While leaving through the barrels without her husband’s knowledge she get’s hit by the poison arrow. Thranduil is trying to save his wife before it is too late. 

/-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------/

She had been shot. His queen had been hit with an arrow. Thranduil could see her falling from the sky, slowly descending through the fading blue and bright stars of the last night. Her lights died as she fell to the ground with a yelp. The arrow had pierced her leg after she tried to open the gate. His heart seized tightly hearing her cries as he attempted to run to her side, cutting down any orc in his way. However, he didn't make it in time, as she had jumped into a barrel following her father down the river.

Y/N was the daughter of Thorin, but her heritage was elven. When young, Thorin found an elf girl and raised her while living in Erebor. She grew into a beautiful woman and was betrothed to Thranduil for the alliance at a young age by King Thrór. However, when the dragon attacked, it was all put on pause, and Thorin and his family fled to the Blue Mountains.

Thranduil would not give up on her as he fell in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her at their announced betrothal. He journeyed himself to find his distant love until seeing her again in the Blue Mountains. He never imagined he’d ever have another chance to meet his beloved again, but when he did... everything changed. Thranduil asked her to marry him again, hoping he wasn't alone in his feelings. Apparently, she had loved him as well and agreed, but things weren't how they should be. Thorin's hatred for elves had increased and never approved of the betrothal.

The argument with Thorin and Y/N spiraled until she left with Thranduil without saying goodbye. A year later, the wedding came around, and Thorin refused to see his daughter marry that elf. He insisted she live in the Blue Mountains, a place far away where dangers were less likely to come and away from elf-kind. Shortly, Legolas was born and grew into a handsome man. Their lives were peaceful until years later when Gandalf knocked on their door.

Gandalf told her that he was building a company in the hopes of reclaiming her childhood home. It had been decided that Y/N would join the company and take part in their quest. She wanted nothing more than to go back to Erebor, return her home, and connect with her father like she once had. So, she took her chance and left. Thranduil hated her putting herself in danger, but who was he to rob her of that connection she missed so dearly?

"Y/N!" Thorin yelled as he ran to his daughter's side.

Y/N's barrel washed up on shore as she used her upper body to crawl to more solid ground, trying not to put too much pressure on her leg.

"I'm here," she breathed as she looked up at Thorin. The dwarf prince scooped her into his arms, holding her close as if afraid someone was going to try something else. Worry and fear were etched over his face, and he saw the pain in his daughter's eyes.

"Oin," Thorin exclaimed, "Please look at the leg. The arrow is cut, but there still may be fragments inside."

The healer kneeled down next to Y/N, looking at her leg. His brow furrowed with concern before he turned back to his friend. "She should be fine, but we need to get her to a town with proper equipment. I'm concerned about it getting infected," he spoke softly. Thorin nodded, helping his daughter stand on her own two feet. She slowly began to walk until she found an arrow pointed at her head.

Thranduil glared the orc down as Legolas held a knife to its neck. He wanted to know what it was doing in his kingdom and why it dared to hurt his wife. It couldn't be allowed to live, but he needed to know.

"In time, all foul things come forth," he said as he circled the orc with a sword in his hand. Legolas continued to hold the blade to its neck, "You were tracking the company of thirteen dwarves and an elf. Why?"

Malice and distaste were in his voice, knowing his father's fears and what it had done to his mother. This thing was not a creature but a monster sent to destroy them. Its intentions are unknown for all to know. The orc cackled, "Not thirteen, not anymore. The elf, we stuck her with a Morgul shaft. The poisons in her blood. She'll be choking on it soon."

Legolas' grip tightened on the knife, causing it to tremble. He needed the orc dead, or he'd kill it himself. A threat against his parents' safety was enough to make him want to do it. Thranduil's breath left him in a gasp. As anger bubbled in his chest, he felt like he was trying to find air. His son's gaze remained on the orc. It knew exactly what it was talking about, the poison that poisoned the elf.

"You like killing this orc?" Thranduil said lowly, almost too calmly, "You like death? Then let me give it to you!" he yelled as he pulled out his swords. Legolas watched as his father charged toward the orc. Before he could blink, the blade made contact with the orc's skull. Blood poured from the wound, but instead of retreating, it rushed forward like a tidal wave. "Legolas, come with me. We must save your mother."

Y/N was breathing heavily as she leaned against the wall of Bard's house. Her father forced her to stay behind because of her leg. Of course, he was concerned for his daughter, but she felt robbed. She wished to help reclaim her home like the rest of the company. Her cousins, Fili, and Kili, opted to stay behind and help take care of her until she was ready to go to the mountain. Oin stayed behind as well, as did Bofur, but he just missed the boat.

However, the pain had gotten worse, and she could tell something was wrong. The leg wound wasn't healing as it should, and she could see the fear in Oin's eyes each time he examined it, even if he didn't tell her. Y/N was worried. The arrow hadn't hit anything vital, yet it could still become infected and kill her. She chuckled to herself softly. Maybe it was best she stayed at home after all.

Her breath was ragged, and her head was light. Her vision swayed slightly as she tried to stay upright, leaning against the wall. She was losing consciousness, but she knew that the battle was not over yet. The pain was becoming unbearable, and she closed her eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. Finally, her body gave way, and she collapsed. "Y/N!" the dwarves yelled as they helped her up. Y/N was writhing in pain as she felt the poison all over her body. She could feel the heat of the flames searing her flesh, and it felt like it was consuming her whole body.

"Put her on the table," Bard said in a frantic tone. They set her gently on the table as she continued to convulse.

"We need something to put her head on so she doesn't hit the table!" Oin shouted. The others quickly searched for anything that could possibly stop the venomous poison. They found only herbs that had been used long ago, and they were useless. The poison was spreading through her veins faster than anyone had realized, and it was eating away at her life. Oin examined the wound more closely. It had turned a black color, and it could be seen going through her veins. This wasn't a normal poison.

"I need kingsfoil! Where is it?" Oin exclaimed to Bard. The Fili, Kili, and Bofur looked around in confusion at the mention of a plant, but they didn't have any of it. Only Oin owned the plants. "Kingsfoil? It's a weed. We feed it to the pigs!" Bard replied in confusion. "Pigs, I got it!" was heard as Bofur zoomed out the door. Y/N struggled for air. Every breath hurt her throat as she coughed painfully. The poison in her body was beginning to eat away at her life. She was dying. That was the last thought that went through her mind before another wave of pain hit her.

Suddenly everything except for Y/N went quiet as footsteps could be heard on the roof. The roof broke, and a dark figure jumped down from above, landing right next to Bard's daughter and stabbing the orc in reaction. The young girl grabbed the orc and then fled as more fell through the ceiling. Fighting ensued as they tried to defend the girls and a table-ridden Y/N.

Thranduil and Legolas ran through the town of Dale in the hopes of finding Y/N and the dwarves. However, they stopped in their tracks when they saw orcs running on the ceilings above the water town. They both knew immediately where they were going. Thranduil ordered Legolas to stay behind while he went to search for his mother, "Stay safe my child, leave none alive."

With that being said, Thranduil continued to run at his pace faster than before. Thranduil continued to run until he heard fighting in one of the homes. With his guard up and weapons, he approached it in the hope that his wife was still alive. Upon approaching the door, he noticed the familiar scent of blood. His heart sunk in his chest, realizing she might be... He opened the door to find three orcs surrounding her, the dwarves, and the humans as they were struggling to defend themselves. One of the orcs was about to strike Y/N when Thranduil shot his bow, sending the arrow right into its skull. He then drew his sword, slashing at any orc in sight.Thranduil rushed to her side and caressed her cheek, hoping to see the spark of life in her eyes. "My darling Y/N, open your eyes," he whispered.She weakly shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Nin Meleth..." she murmured."Do not speak, my love," he said softly, brushing some hair away from her sweaty forehead.Just then, Bofur burst through the door, panting and holding a bunch of kingsfoil. Thranduil took the leaves from him and quickly began to prepare them. "She needs elvish medicine. If we don't heal her leg soon... She doesn't have much time left."Thranduil soaked the leaves and pressed them onto her wound, chanting an elvish incantation that sounded almost like a prayer. As he administered the treatment, he watched her face relax, the furrows in her brow smoothing out as the poison receded.Y/N looked up at him with those beautiful eyes that had always filled his heart with love. He could see the pain fading, and with it, the poison from her body. He bandaged the wound and held her hand, tears escaping his eyes as she smiled up at him. His heart swelled with joy as he leaned closer and kissed her. It was a kiss filled with relief, love, and the promise of healing."Father," came a soft voice, breaking the tender moment. Thranduil and Y/N turned to see Legolas standing at the doorway, a gentle smile on his face.Their foreheads rested together, and a small chuckle passed through Thranduil. "Oh, no. We've been caught by our own son."

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#thrandiul #thrandaddy #lord of the rings #the hobbit #thranduil x reader #thranduil x wife #thranduil x you #thranduil x oc #battle #mirkwood #thranduil fluff #elves #angst #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #reader #hobbit #injury #injured

[astarothstarion]

“An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. When life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means it's going to launch you into something great. So just focus, and keep aiming.”

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #oc #lord of the rings oc #imagine #handir #handir x astaroth #handir galahon #the rings of power #elrond #thranduil #legolas x reader #thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield #legolas #elf #teacher

[agathne]

SERIES MASTERLIST | THERE'S MILLIONS OF ME DARLING

"King Thranduil of Mirkwood was known for his bountiful reign - but no one speaks of his Queen. Only those with a sharp memory can remember their love - how it almost destroyed the very realm."

Thranduil and Legolas are sent to the past where the Elvenqueen is still alive - the only problem is; she can't remember them. In which, Legolas is the very reason he exists.

Chapter One: A River of Stars Chapter Two: Cirdan the Shipwright Chapter Three: Brightest of Mornings Chapter Four: She Left You a Son Chapter Five: A Mother's Embrace Chapter Six: Thranduil of Greenwood

AU's

The Moon - Elrond walks in when his daughter is about to lock lips with Thranduil.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x oc #thranduil #thranduil's wife #thranduil wife #legolas mom #legolas' mom #thranduil x elrond's daughter

[thewulf]

Entwined Realms || Legolas

Summary: Request: So I thought about this idea with Legolas x reader where the reader is the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn (which makes her princess of Lothlorien and a very high elf) and she is nervous because its commonly known that Galadriel and Thranduil dont like each other (she is still his superior but you get the point) and the reader and Legolas have a dinner or some council or something together with their parents.

A/N: This was one of my favs to write. Just love everything LOTR... please keep them coming! Thank you for the request @lillisummers

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1k +

TW: Talks of war/death

In the timeless realm of Lothlórien, you, the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, walked among the golden trees with a heavy heart filled with the weight of ancient grudges. It had been many years since you last tread upon these familiar paths, for you had spent much of your time in Rivendell, aiding in the healing of those who bore the scars of war.

As a princess of the high elves, you bore the burden of your lineage with grace. Yet the tension between your mother and Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, weighed heavily upon you. The animosity between them was no secret, and you often found yourself caught in the midst of their disagreements. You were torn between loyalty to your mother and the desire for unity among your people after the war of the ring. Your return to Lothlórien had been sudden, called back by your father during the darkest days of the war. The news of battles raging across middle earth had filled you with dread. Yet, you knew that your place was by your family's side, lending whatever aid you could in the struggle against the darkness.

Despite the discord that lingered between your realms you held onto hope, believing in the power of unity to overcome adversity. The memories of Celebrian's capture and torture haunted you still. She drove your determination to see an end to the suffering that had plagued your people for so long.

As you walked beneath the golden canopy of the trees, you found solace in the familiar sights and sounds of Lothlórien. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the branches. They spoke to you of peace and beauty, reminding you of all that was worth fighting for in this world. Your steps carried you towards a familiar spot. The quiet glade where the gravestones of those fallen in battle lay. The air was hushed. The only sound was the soft whisper of leaves and the gentle trickle of water from the nearby streams.

Stopping by the gravestones, you traced your fingers over each weathered stone, feeling the weight of loss settle upon your heart. Here, beneath the earth, lay the brave souls who had given their lives in service of a greater cause. A cause that you had fought for alongside them. Your thoughts turned to Haldir, the gallant Marchwarden who had stood by your side in the darkest of times. His laughter, his kindness, his unwavering loyalty… they were memories that you held dear, memories that would live on long after he had passed from this world. At one point you were convinced you would marry him but that was before he was taken so suddenly from you.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself a moment of silence. A moment to remember those who had been taken from you too soon. Their faces flashed before your eyes, friends, fighters, and loved ones alike. Each one leaving behind an indelible mark upon your soul. And yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also hope. Hope for a future where their sacrifices would not be in vain. Where the darkness would be banished for good and the light would shine so brightly once more. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you vowed to carry their memory with you always, to honor their legacy in all that you did.

As you stood amidst the gravestones, lost in memories and reflections, a soft voice broke through the silence. She was calling your name. You turned to see your mother, Galadriel, approaching with a gentle smile upon her lips. Her eyes, always so wise and knowing, held a depth of understanding that eased the ache in your heart.

"Y/n," she said, her voice like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, "I have been searching for you. It is good to see you home again. You look well my love."

You returned her smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you at the sight of her familiar face. "It is good to be home, Mother," you replied, stepping forward to embrace her.

Galadriel held you close, tight. Her arms a reassuring embrace amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. "You have been missed, my dear," she said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As you pulled away, Galadriel's gaze softened. Her eyes filled with a mixture of pride and affection. "There is much to discuss," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "But first, I have news that I believe will bring you much joy."

Curiosity piqued, you listened as Galadriel spoke of the upcoming marriage between your niece, Arwen, and Aragorn, the King of Gondor. The news filled you with a sense of anticipation, the prospect of a wedding bringing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had shrouded middle earth for so long. "I would be honored to attend," you said. Your heart swelling with love for your family and excitement for the joyous occasion to come.

Galadriel smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "I had no doubt that you would," she said, her voice tinged with warmth. "Come, let us return to Caras Galadhon and begin preparations. There is much to do, and little time to waste." She motioned you to follow her.

With a nod of agreement, you fell into step beside your mother. It felt as though the weight of grief and loss lightened by the promise of love and celebration on the horizon. As you walked the golden light of Lothlórien illuminated your path guiding you towards a future filled with possibility.

Too quickly the day of celebration arrived. The grand halls of Minas Tirith were adorned with banners and flowers, filling the air with a sense of festivity and anticipation. You, dressed in your finest elven attire, mingled with the guests. Your heart was aflutter with excitement and nerves for your niece and the King of Gondor. Amidst the bustling crowd, your eyes scanned the faces of those gathered taking in the sight of strangers and acquaintances alike. And then your gaze met that of a mysterious elven stranger across the ornate courtyard who you did not recognize.

His eyes were a captivating shade of blue. They held a warmth and kindness that drew you in, sending a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment it felt as though the world around you had faded away leaving only you and this enigmatic stranger in a universe of your own making. But as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. Broken by the sound of laughter and music drifting through the air you tore your gaze away. Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, heart racing with the memory of that brief but electrifying encounter.

Though you knew not who he was, nor what fate had in store for you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this chance meeting was somehow significant. And as you allowed yourself to be swept away by the joyous festivities you couldn't help but wonder about the identity of the mysterious elven stranger who had captured your attention with a single glance.

As the celebration unfolded you found yourself standing beside Arwen, basking in the glow of her happiness as she greeted guests and well-wishers. The air was filled with laughter and music. The joyous atmosphere infectious as people celebrated the union of Arwen and Aragorn. But amidst the revelry your attention kept drifting back to the beautiful blonde elf who had caught your eye earlier. He stood amidst a group of guests, his presence commanding and his gaze holding a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in.

Unable to contain your curiosity any longer you turned to Arwen with a hint of nervousness in your voice. "Arwen," you began, pointing subtly towards the mysterious elf, "who is that?"

Arwen followed your gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she noticed your interest in the stranger. "Ah, him," she said, her tone tinged with mystery. "That is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas. The name echoed in your mind. Though you knew little about him there was something about the way he carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to hold a thousand untold stories that intrigued you beyond measure. As Arwen spoke of Legolas' exploits and noble deeds you found yourself captivated by the tales of his courage and valor. And though you knew it was foolish to be so taken with a stranger, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him. Something that called to you on a level you couldn't quite understand.

With a grateful smile you thanked Arwen for indulging your curiosity. Though your mind was already consumed with thoughts of the mysterious Prince of Mirkwood. And as you turned your attention back to the festivities you couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of the captivating blonde elf who had captured your attention with a single glance.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. You found yourself drawn into the lively conversations and laughter that filled the air.

As if he had known your every thought, he had come right up to you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he offered you a goblet of wine. "Care for some wine, my lady?" he asked, his voice smooth and all too inviting.

Grateful for the distraction you accepted the goblet with a smile, the cool liquid soothing the nerves that had been fluttering in your stomach. "Thank you," you replied, taking a sip and relishing the taste of the rich, fruity wine.

As you savored the wine, Legolas took a seat beside you. His eyes alight with curiosity as he extended his hand in introduction. "I am Legolas," he said, his tone warm and genuine. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You felt a rush of excitement at the sound of his name, "And I am Y/n," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness that you quickly tried to mask.

Legolas smiled warmly at you, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he raised his own goblet in a silent toast. "Well then, Y/n, here's to new acquaintances and delightful conversations," he spoke.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn into conversation with Legolas. His easy charm and quick wit putting you at ease. Despite your initial nervousness you soon found yourself laughing and chatting with him as if you had known each other for years. With each passing moment you felt yourself growing more and more enchanted by Legolas. His presence filling you with a sense of warmth and belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time. Not since before your sister had set sail. And as you shared stories and laughter with the captivating Prince of Mirkwood you couldn't help but wonder what adventures lay in store for you both in the days to come.

When the topic turned to your family, you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension, unsure of how he would react upon learning the truth. "Your parents must be proud of you," Legolas remarked, his voice sincere as he glanced around at the grandeur of Minas Tirith. "To have a daughter as kind and courageous as you."

You smiled, touched by his words. Though a part of you hesitated to reveal your true lineage. "Thank you, Legolas," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "My parents... they are indeed proud, though our family is not without its complexities."

Legolas cocked his head with curiosity shining bright in his eyes. "Complexities?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for his reaction. "My parents are Celeborn and Galadriel," you confessed, watching closely for any sign of recognition or judgment in his expression.

To your surprise, Legolas' eyes widened in genuine surprise, his gaze softening with understanding. "Galadriel," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "The Lady of Light herself. And Celeborn, the Lord of Lothlórien."

You nodded, relieved by his reaction. "Yes, though our family is not without its challenges," you admitted, your voice growing quiet. "There are... tensions between my parents and certain others in Middle-earth." You knew he knew, and he knew you knew. The two of you were dancing around your parents disdain for the other.

Legolas' expression grew somber. A shadow passing over his features. "I understand," he said, his tone tinged with empathy. "My own father, Thranduil, can be... difficult at times."

You felt a surge of empathy for Legolas knowing all too well the challenges that could arise from strained familial relationships. "It seems we are not so different after all," you said. A small smile playing at your lips.

Legolas returned your smile, his eyes warm and understanding. "Indeed," he said, his voice gentle. "But perhaps together, we can find a way to bridge the divide between our families."

Touched by his sincerity you could only keep grinning at him like a fool. "I would like that, Legolas," you replied. Your heart swelled with gratitude for the bond that was beginning to form between you.

As the night wore on into the wee hours of the morning you and Legolas found yourselves drawn deeper into each other's company. The hours quickly slipping away unnoticed as you laughed and talked beneath the starlit sky. The connection between you grew stronger with each passing moment. A bond of friendship and understanding blossoming into something deeper and more profound. Unfortunately, the celebration began to wind down. You found yourselves reluctant to part ways. The prospect of saying goodbye filling you with a sense of melancholy. "Perhaps we could extend our stay in Minas Tirith," Legolas suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of worry as if you wouldn’t accept. "There is still so much more to see and do. I have not seen this city without war disparaging it."

You nodded eagerly, the idea of spending more time with Legolas filling you with a sense of joy and excitement. "I would like that very much," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There is still so much more we have yet to see. You distracted me tonight."

And so, you and Legolas remained in Minas Tirith for longer than planned, seizing every opportunity to steal away moments alone together amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Whether wandering the streets hand in hand or sharing quiet conversations in secluded corners. Each moment spent in Legolas' company felt like a precious treasure, a memory to be cherished for eternity.

As your extended stay in Minis Tirith came to an end the bond between you and Legolas deepened further than you could have imagined. Your hearts intertwining in a dance as old as time itself. One evening beneath the stars after your going away dinner the two of you sat together in the quiet solitude of the gardens, surrounded by the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of crickets. The words you had been longing to say spilled forth from your lips.

"Legolas," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there is something I must confess to you." It truly was now or never for you did not know the next time you would see the elf that had captured your heart so quickly.

Legolas turned to you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, Y/n?" he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I know this is quick,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, "And we tend to do this slow, but I must admit... I really like you. More than a friend would."

You glanced away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you awaited his response. But when you dared to meet his gaze once more you found Legolas looking at you with a tender smile. His eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored your own feelings.

"Y/n," he said softly, reaching out to gently take your face in his hand, "your honesty means the world to me. I too have come to care for you deeply as well. As more than a friend would."

Your heart soared at his words. A sense of joy flooding through you at the knowledge that your feelings were reciprocated. And as you sat together in the quiet beauty of the gardens you knew that your bond with Legolas was something truly special. It was the beginning of a love story that was just beginning to unfold.

You didn’t want the night to end so you kept your wandering through the gardens. "Legolas," you began, your voice tinged with concern, "what do you think about... our families?"

Legolas glanced at you. His gaze thoughtful. "Ah, our esteemed parents," he replied with a wry smile. "Stubborn as ancient oaks and twice as difficult to move."

You couldn't help but laugh at his analogy, feeling a sense of relief at his lighthearted approach to the situation. "Yes, that's one way to put it," you agreed. A smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"But," Legolas continued, his tone turning more serious, "I believe they will come around in time. After all, love has a way of softening even the hardest of hearts."

You nodded feeling a flicker of hope kindling within you. "I hope you're right," you replied, leaning closer to him. "I just want them to see... how much we care for each other."

Legolas placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. "They will, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "And until then, we'll just have to prove them wrong together."

As your time in Minas Tirith drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was time for your parents and Legolas to meet. Despite the tension between your families, you were determined to show them that love knew no bounds, and that their differences could be set aside in the name of happiness.

On the morning that both of you were to depart you knew what you had to do. "Legolas," you began. Your voice tinged with nervousness, "I know it's unconventional, but... what if you and your father were to visit Lothlórien?"

Legolas blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your suggestion. "Visit Lothlórien?" he echoed, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's an... intriguing idea, Y/n, but I'm not sure how my father would feel about it."

You nodded, understanding Legolas' reservations. "I know it's a risk," you admitted, "but I believe that if he could experience the beauty and hospitality of Lothlórien for himself, he might begin to understand... and perhaps even appreciate our way of life."

Legolas considered your words for a moment before a smile spread across his face. "You may be right, Y/n," he said, his eyes alight with excitement. "Let's extend the invitation to my father and see what he says."

With a renewed sense of hope, you and Legolas set about preparing for Thranduil's visit to Lothlórien. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to show both him and your parents that love could conquer even the deepest of divides. And so, with hearts full of anticipation and determination, you bid farewell to Minas Tirith. You knew that a new chapter of your journey was about to begin.

As Legolas and an initially reluctant Thranduil arrived in Lothlórien, the tension between them was palpable. Thranduil's expression was stoic and reserved, while Legolas wore a strained smile who was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. You greeted them warmly, hoping to ease the atmosphere, but even your efforts seemed to fall flat in the face of the lingering animosity between your parents. The initial interactions were awkward only filled with polite but strained conversation and forced smiles.

But as the evening progressed and the wine flowed freely the atmosphere began to shift. Your parents, Thranduil, and Legolas found themselves gradually relaxing in each other's company. The rigid barriers between them slowly melting away under the influence of hope after the war and shared experiences. You watched with a mixture of joy and relief as the tension dissipated, replaced by laughter and genuine conversation. Thranduil who had initially been so guarded found himself opening up. He began to share stories and jokes with Celeborn and Galadriel as if they were old friends.

And Legolas, too, seemed to come alive in the warmth of his father’s acceptance. His smile growing more genuine with each passing moment. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders finally allowing him to truly be himself in their presence. He chuckled at one of Thranduil's jokes and clinked glasses with Celeborn, a genuine smile gracing his features.

In the midst of the conversation Legolas turned to you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Meleth nin," he said softly, his voice filled with utmost warmth.

As Legolas inadvertently uttered the Elvish endearment, my love, the words hung in the air laden with the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart skipped a beat at his slip-up, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you.

"Really?" you exclaimed. Your eyes widened with surprise and utmost delight. For a moment you almost forgot that your parents and Legolas' father were present too caught up in the rush of emotion that swept over you.

Legolas blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized what he had said in front of the parents. "I... uh, I mean..." he stammered, clearly flustered by your reaction.

But before he could finish, Thranduil let out a soft chuckle. The elvenking’s eyes twinkling with amusement. "It seems our children are more than just friends," he remarked to your parents. His tone surprisingly light-hearted.

You turned to your parents with a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I guess we should have mentioned that sooner," you admitted feeling a surge of relief as you saw their understanding smiles.

Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged knowing glances before Celeborn spoke up. "Love has a way of revealing itself in unexpected ways," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "We are happy for you both."

Thranduil let out a small chuckle. His eyes crinkling with amusement. "Young love," he said before shaking his head in mock exasperation. "It seems like only yesterday that Legolas was just a boy chasing after butterflies in the woods."

Legolas rolled his eyes playfully at his father's comment. "I assure you, Ada, I have grown up a bit since then," he spoke. His tone teasing but affectionate.

Celeborn chuckled softly his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice warm. "But some things never change." He motioned to you with a knowing grin.

And as the tension melted away completely, replaced by laughter, and shared understanding, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unwavering support of your parents. With their blessing and acceptance, you and Legolas knew that your love story was only just beginning. You were finally destined to have a beautiful and unforgettable journey filled with laughter, joy, and the sweet promise of a future together. You had waited a long time for this. A very long time.

As the night grew deeper and the fire crackled softly, you and Legolas found yourselves immersed in a comfortable silence. The two of you basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Legolas turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes, taking your hand in his. "Well, my dear, it seems the hour grows late," he remarked, his voice soft and warm.

You nodded feeling a surge of affection for the elf beside you. "Yes, it does," you replied, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

With a gentle tug on your hand Legolas rose to his feet pulling you up with him. "Allow me to escort you to your room," he said. His voice filled with gentle sincerity.

You followed him, the touch of his hand sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As you reached your door, Legolas turned to you. His eyes sparkling with mischief. "Until next time, meleth nin," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before turning to leave.

A faint blush coated your cheeks at his actions. “Until next time, meleth nin.” You repeated. You watched him go with a smile playing at your lips as you realized that no matter what adventures lay ahead, you would face them with him. Oh, what a life.

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#legolas x reader #legolas x gimli #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #legolas greenleaf #gimli #legolas #the lord of the rings #legolas x oc #legolas fanfiction #legolas and gimli #legolas fluff #legolas fic #legolas thranduilion #legolas lotr #legolas au #legolas and thranduil #king thranduil #legolas imagine #legolas one shot #legolas oneshot #legolas tharanduilion fluff #king thranduil platonic reader #the fellowship #lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #lotr #hobbits #lotr x reader #lotr x you

[gulnarsultan]

🍃İmagine. 🍃

Gandalf says Thranduil has no right to force you into a relationship.

#lotr x reader #lotr x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #yandere hobbit #yandere lotr #yandere thranduil #dark thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x oc #the elvenking #lotr headcanons #thranduil oropherion #mirkwood #thranduil #yandere male #yandere x reader

[tiny-tini-imagines]

Oh, hello— gosh dang a new writer? Instant support, sending love— mate, your writing Is awesome. Could I ask for a Legolas hc? (Lemme hop on the Legolas chain for a sec— his dad’s taking up way too much space in the back compartment—) Legolas with an elf s/o who.. ‘isn’t like other elves..’?’ OKAY— it may sound ridiculous but hold on— like an elf that does thing differently from other? You know how elves are usually quite regal and stuff.. has their priorities straight, mild mannered and all that?— take all that, and throw it out the window. Bc this elf believes that they should live their long-ass life span to the fullest and not really think too hard on how other view them and such? Chaotic and all that, but down to earth? The total opposite of what a normal elf would act.

Feel free to ignore this (and my incessant rambling) have a nice day!

Hey! Thank you so so so much for your support and kind words. I'm so happy that you enjoyed my writing, and let me tell you - I absolutely love your request! Funny enough, I once started a ff with a human character as Legolas s/o who had no manners, but imagining it with an elf sounds even cooler. Hope that's what you had in mind...

Headcanons - Lord of the rings

summary: Legolas and a s/o non typical elf

(added: what they would say to them, or about them)

Initial Antipathy: At first, Legolas might not get along too well with them, finding their chaotic and unpredictable nature somewhat jarring compared to his usual elven decorum.

Protective Streak: Despite their incredible strength and speed, Legolas can't help but feel protective of them. They often worry about their safety, which leads to some tension in their interactions. (They often insist that they don't need Legolas's protection and can handle themselves, telling him to go and take care of himself, but it's their way of shielding their true feelings for them.)

"Their strength and resilience are astounding, and I find myself in awe of their ability to face danger head-on, even when it terrifies me."

Eloquent Disagreements: Legolas and his elf s/o have a fair share of passionate disagreements, especially in the beginning. They engage in eloquent debates where they challenge each other's perspectives, making their interactions both fiery and intellectually stimulating. Anyway, Legolas would often find himself speechless, because they don't mince their words and says what they really think, over time he gets used to it and likes it a little bit more, especially since he can't afford to speak like them as the Prince of Mirkwood .

"I must respectfully disagree. While your unorthodox approach is certainly intriguing, I believe tradition and preservation of elven customs hold their own merit in our world." - legolas in an arguement between them

Archery Lessons: One way Legolas tries to bridge the gap between their personalities is by offering archery lessons. He's patient as he teaches them, finding solace in the shared moments at the archery range. (They might not be too good in archery, but have a very unique and stunning way to handle their sword.)

Language: They're known for their sometimes rude language, (which Gimli secretly appreciates). Legolas would just shake his head from time to time, but secretly thinking that it's kind of brave.(Legolas understands that this is their way of expressing emotions. He appreciates the sincerity behind their words and actions.)

Revealing Their Feelings: Eventually, it's them who reveals their feelings first, unable to contain their affection any longer. Legolas is taken by surprise but soon reciprocates with their own heartfelt admission. (They would say it in a very untypical way for an elf, maybe even curse, after Legolas has put himself in unnecessary danger, and pull him into a tight embrace in an unelvish way)

Surprise and Stunned Silence: Legolas is initially taken completely by surprise. He's used to elven decorum and the more reserved expressions of affection, so their outburst catches him off guard.

Conflicting Emotions: He experiences a whirlwind of emotions in that moment - surprise, confusion, but mostly a deep warmth in his heart.

S/o: "Damn! By the stars, Legolas! What were you thinking you fool, charging in like that? I thought I lost you, stupid elf!" They exclaim, their voice laced with worry and frustration, a slip of affectionate concern coloring their words. They immediately pull him in a tight embrace Legolas: His eyes widen in surprise at their outburst, the genuine worry in their tone catching him off guard. "I... I did not mean to cause you such distress. But know that my heart swells with gratitude for your concern."

The Impact of Danger: The fact that their confession comes after he put himself in unnecessary danger makes Legolas acutely aware of the depth of their concern and love for him. It's a realization that touches him deeply. + (This moment reinforces his protective instinct. Legolas becomes even more committed to keeping them safe, knowing how deeply they care for him.)

After Revealing Feelings: After their feelings are out, they share tender moments amidst their chaotic adventures. Legolas becomes more understanding of their free-spirited nature, and they appreciate his unwavering support.

"Meeting you has been the greatest adventure of my life, and I look forward to many more chapters of our story together."

Bridging Differences: As their love deepens, they learn to appreciate each other's strengths and differences. Legolas discovers that their boldness complements his wisdom, and he becomes more open to spontaneity.

Shared Adventures: Legolas is drawn to their adventurous spirit. He finds himself relishing the excitement of their escapades, even if they often involve unconventional ways and risks. (They have an insatiable thirst for adventure and are always dragging Legolas into daring escapades and exploration.)

Meeting Thranduil: Legolas knows that introducing his s/o to his father, Thranduil, won't be easy. The King of Mirkwood has high expectations for his son's choice and wants him to make a more traditional choice for a partner, but eventually, even Thranduil comes to admire their fierce independence and the happiness she brings to Legolas. + (They absolutely refuse to bow or show deference to anyone, not even to the King of Mirkwood. Their boldness both amuses and confounds Legolas and Thranduil.)

"Ada, I must admit, they are unlike any elf I have ever known. Their spirit is untamed, their heart bold, and they defy convention in a way that is both bewildering and strangely admirable."

Balancing Act: Their relationship is a delightful balancing act between Legolas's regal upbringing and their chaotic, down-to-earth approach to life. Together, they bring out the best in each other, forging an unbreakable bond.

Appreciation of Imperfection: Through his s/o, Legolas learns to appreciate imperfection and the beauty life's unpredictability. He discovers that perfection is not always the most fulfilling path.

"In your presence, I've come to understand that there is beauty in imperfection, and I cherish every moment we share, even when chaos reigns around us."

Respect for Individuality: Legolas deeply respects their individuality and appreciates the fact that they don't conform to typical elven norms. He admires their strength of character and their willingness to be true to themselves.

Encouragement and Support: He is a source of unwavering encouragement and support for them. Legolas understands that their unconventional approach to life is a part of what makes them special, and he never tries to change or suppress it.

A Gentle Hand: He has a gentle and caring touch, especially when it comes to tending to any injuries or scrapes they may acquire during their daring exploits (and especially since they're a bit chaotic and maybe somtimes even clumsly when paying too much attention to Legolas and not their surroundings.) Legolas takes great care in ensuring their well-being. (They would not admid that they need help at first, so Legolas does it without any words or asking, always making sure they're all right.)

Affectionate Gestures: Legolas is not one to shy away from showing affection. He expresses his love through tender gestures, whether it's a soft touch, a warm smile, or an embrace. However, the moment his s/o started feeling comfortable showing off their relationship, they'd often hug Legolas thightly (sometimes to his surprise, but he secretly enjoys them a lot).

Hair: He'd let them play with his hair, but don't expect them to braid it, since they can't do it and it would just get tangled (Legolas tried to teach them, but gave up after several attempts.) However he would sometimes braid their hair, if they asked him, tho they mostly like to keep it open

#lord of the rings #legolas fanart #legolas fanfiction #legolas greenleaf #legolas #lotr imagine #lord of the rings headcanons #lotr headcanons #lotr oc #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr incorrect quotes #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings imagine #the lord of the rings #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit #hobbit fanfiction #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #legolas thranduilion #thranduil headcanon #tolkien elves #elves #lotr elves #lotr elf #lotr writing #legolas headcanon #legolas imagine

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 14

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care ofRadagast, who is actually the ‘lost’ daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700​​​ @jinlizz-dragondrama​​​ @firelightinferno​​ @bubbleyukismile @coopsgirl @achromaticerebus @sleepyamygdala​​​ @smalltownbigheart​ @qmabailor @genderfluid-anime-goth, @0chemicalwaste0, @deadunicorn159, @silvercobra​ a/n: the way this took so long you've probably all forgotten all about it ashahgdahdj ​​

The rabbits pulled the sleigh through the darkening forest with ease. They moved as if they knew exactly where to go, avoiding every trip hazard on the forest floor. This was normal for them but you could also tell this was not the first time they had taken Radagast to the Elvenking's Halls. You had never ventured this way yourself, always wary of crossing paths with other elves on the road. Radagast did not always speak to you of his short journeys, and he often stayed closer to home generally, but even if he had you likely wouldn't have thought anything of it. A wizard's mind was often sought out, after all.

It was late morning by the time you reached your destination.

The Halls of Thranduil were grand, located next to the Elven settlements around the Mountains. Soon enough, the king would move his palace and his people more north, further across the river. For now, they remained where his father had first led them from Amon Lanc, after the threat of Sauron first began to grow. There were rumours (that had reached you through an owl friend) that the Elvenking had reached out to Dwarves to inquire about assistance with bringing his people underground into some sort of cave system.

This sounded like the worst thing ever to you and you hoped that you would be long gone by then... if by some miracle you did not end up actually having to marry this man.

The elves from the first settlement all had their eyes fixed on the wizard's sleigh as he urged the rabbits onward towards the palace. It was incredibly uncomfortable - you had spent practically your whole life not being perceived at all and all these eyes on you at once, from something other than forest animals, made you feel slightly uneasy.

"Here we are, child." Radagast's voice pulled you back from your thoughts and you turned to look around him, as the great hall of the king came into view.

It was very tall, though not as tall as the trees that surrounded it. It was also beautiful and had clearly been built with something close to love and you thought suddenly what a shame it is that it would be abandoned when the elves finally moved on.

There was not much time to stand and admire your new surroundings, however, as Radagast took your arm to help you off the sleigh and then ushered you inside and past the guards like a stowaway. The curious eyes all turned away once the palace doors were shut but all the elves would surely whisper, trying to decide who you were. They knew the wizard but none knew of any elves he might travel with.

"Welcome, my lady." A voice drew your attention from gazing around at the grandeur of the entrance hall.

"Ah! Feren!" Radagast huffed as the door to the hall closed behind you both with a thump, making you feel very trapped suddenly. The wizard's eyes did a quick scan of those standing in the front of him and then they snapped back to Feren. "Where is the king?"

"I am afraid the king is not here. He had to take care of an urgent matter in the forest." Feren explained, his tone soft though a little regretful.

Radagast's bushy eyebrows shot up. "Not here?" He exclaimed, suddenly seeming as if the worst catastrophe in the world had happened. "Not here! He glanced at you incredulously. "He's not here!" His attention turned back to Feren, who looked startled. "But this is important. Our coming was known in advance, ooh... this is just like Th-"

"Uncle!" You cut him off with a sigh, feeling drained.

Radagast glanced at you and seemed to relax. "Right. Yes, yes... I'm sorry."

It took you a moment to realise the silence had stretched out longer than you had expected and when you glanced back up again, you saw that the elves were staring at you. Feren and the two others, the ladies standing just behind him. Three curious pairs of eyes were trained upon you, as if fascinated by hearing you speak. Feren knew exactly who you were, of course, for he had been informed but to the women, the maids, you were just a strange elleth from somewhere in the forest that the king had brought to stay in his own personal hall, and that made you a curiosity.

Unnerved, you shifted uncomfortably, and eventually sort of shuffled behind Radagast's shoulder as a means of attempting to hide.

Feren blinked and looked away, feeling guilty. He felt bad for making you uncomfortable, you could see it in his eyes, and noticing that did make you feel a little better.

"Come." Feren said, speaking to Radagast again. "The King will return by early evening. We are to show the lady to her room."

You trailed silently behind Radagast and Feren, who spoke fairly amicably as they walked the hall together. The maids took up the rear and, while you knew this wasn't the case, you felt as if you were being herded and prevented from fleeing. You looked around a little more as you walked, having never seen anything like it. The muted colours of the decor made you feel almost like you were still out in the deep woods in autumn. Almost.

"Here we are!" Feren announced cheerfully, stopping outside a large door.

You took a moment to react, your attention having been caught by the large portrait on the wall just outside the door. In an intricate golden frame sat the image of a blond haired male elf with piercing eyes. His hair was quite an icy shade of blond (though not quite as pale as Thranduil's, you noted to yourself), down past his shoulders, and braided very intricately. A large crown sat upon his head, set with gemstones the same colour as the frame.

'Oropher', was inked at the bottom of the image in large looping letters. The Elvenking's father, you realised. As you stared at his face, you couldn't help but think of Lindon, and Gil-Galad, and all you had learned about that fateful day...

It was then that your brain registered Feren's voice and you turned your head. Everyone was staring at you again and your cheeks started to flush the softest shade of pink as you hurriedly stepped towards the door he was now holding open. Radagast ushered you inside and you looked around at your new prison.

It was beautiful, truly. Larger than Radagast's entire cottage. It was too much, you decided, but it was where you were stuck for the time being, and it could certainly be worse. You didn't say anything else and Feren almost seemed disappointed, as if he had wanted to hear you speak again.

"Well, uh." He said, slightly flustered, glancing at Radagast before looking back at you. Then he gave you a little bow that made you stare at him like he'd just snapped a rabbit's neck in front of you. You frowned until you realised why he'd done it.

You were royalty.

Oh.

"I will leave you to settle in." He continued, as if not noticing your surprise. "The king will return before nightfall. He is most... eager to meet you." It was a small lie on Feren's part. When Thranduil had left the hall that morning, just before your arrival, he had seemed anything but eager. In fact, he seemed almost to be dreading it but Feren decided it was best to keep that to himself.

You turned and walked further into the room, looking around at the decor and furniture and all the space. It was far too big, too grand, but you realised this was the sort of thing you would have been born into as well. You would probably have grown up in a palace like this. You simply could not imagine it.

Feren and Radagast stood for a few moments longer, mumbling at the door together but you paid no mind. Feren soon left and Radagast tried to help you settle in with your things but you had no desire to unpack your bag. You did not want to feel like you were moving in, like you were staying here, though of course that's exactly what was happening.

You denied the help of the maids too and, eventually, they all left you alone with your thoughts. You were still so overwhelmed from all you had learned the previous day, and how quickly everything had changed. You poked around the room for a while and then you moved to sit glumly by the large window. The position of the room in the tower gave you the view of one of the settlements below but that was not what drew your gaze.

Instead, you stared longingly out over the forest, thinking of your home, your woodland friends... and Thranduil, who would be expecting to meet you in the clearing soon, but you would not come.

The clearing was quiet as Thranduil stood there, fingers stroking over his elk's fur as he waited patiently.

Another hour of standing there was when the impatience crept in.

Where were you?! It was well past the agreed upon meeting time. The sun was high in the sky by now. It was the beginning of a beautiful day but he could not bring himself to really enjoy it. Thranduil was aware that by now the girl - the princess - would be at his halls. He would have to return after meeting your uncle and he would have to try and keep the wizard from pushing any talk of marriage.

He had made his decision already. He would marry only one woman. You.

...if you ever showed up!

"Where is she?" Thranduil muttered to his elk as another half hour passed by. He could not linger out here for much longer. He had duties to attend to. He had a realm to rule, people to protect, an Enchantress to drive out.

The elk made a sound in response but Thranduil was not listening. He was suddenly standing very still, his eyes flitting around every inch of the area, peering through the trees at the edge of the clearing.

Was someone here?

Where he would have thought to feel excitement (he was expecting you, after all) he instead felt dread. He had the eeriest feeling that he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck had started to stand on end and there was a shiver up his spine.

The birds had also stopped singing, he realised. Where moments ago there had been chatter, now there was dead silence.

Thranduil moved then. If his own instincts had not been enough, the behaviour of the woodland animals confirmed to him that something was amiss.

He turned and jumped up onto the elk and then they were moving, leaving the clearing behing. There was a deep disappointment in his gut as he travelled back towards his palace.

Why had you not shown up? Had you changed your mind? Had your uncle prevented you? Had something bad happened? Thranduil could not even easily find out what was wrong because he knew not where to even start looking for you. His heart felt heavy as he rode back towards the mountains. Would he just never see you again?

Back in the clearing, the figure of the Enchantress stepped out from between the trees, narrowed eyes fixed on the Elvenking's retreating figure. Her lips were turned up in what could only be called a snarl and she was glaring after him with contempt. She too had come here looking for you and instead she had found that Radagast had secreted you away, just like when you were a baby. The fact Thranduil seemed not to realise that you and the princess were one and the same did not fill her with as much amusement as she would have liked.

The fact that he and Radagast had hidden you away behind the walls of Thranduil's palace, when she was so close, angered her. She had hoped that things would not progress quite so quickly now that she had finally found you, and that she might have had another encounter with you here in the clearing you frequented.

Thranduil was lucky to leave here alive, she thought to herself. She ought to have had his head right here!

Still, she thought, there was no fun in that. He would not come out victorious, none of them would. You could not be saved. The curse was in motion and it could not be stopped. It was only a matter of time and if they thought an Elven stronghold could save you, they were mistaken. She could get you anywhere.

A smirk soon replaced the scowl as the Enchantress melted back into the cover of the trees.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x oc #thranduil fanfic #thranduil fanfiction #lotr x reader #hobbit x reader #sleeping beauty

[luna-writes-stuff]

Alignment chart to celebrate Chapter XXXIV of my Kili X OC series coming out today!

haven’t seen it yet? What are you waiting for? You can read it right here <3

#Starcrossed losers #Kili #fili #thorin #thranduil #gandalf #gandalf the grey #Bilbo baggins #raewyn asha #Balin #dwalin #tolkien #the hobbit #kili x reader #kili x oc #kili x raewyn

[ineffablemurderhusbands]

I am finally posting a longfic that I've been writing for the last 3 years. It's called Mockingbird and here's the sinopse:

The war is won. Everything is fine. But not for Thorin as he is riddled with Dragon Sickness and ends up pushing away the woman that he loves right into the arms of his greatest enemy. Now Thranduil is the one she loves and she is engaged to be married to him. Will Thorin be able to regain her heart or will Thranduil continue to be the love of her life?

Please check it out, I've been having a blast writing this.

#thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #thorin oakenshield fanfiction #thranduil #lotr elves #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x y/n #thorin x you #thorin x oc