Romantic Day off
Legolas x reader (slight NSFW!!!)
WARNING: slight NSFW!!!!! BE AWARE!!! (ALSO HOTTTTT picture of Legolas)
Today both you and Legolas had a day off so he suggested staying in your shared room and spend the day together. You had already spent most of the day with him cuddling. Nude. But you felt comfortable around each other and you were courting so that wasn't a big deal. However, a few hours later, Legolas felt hungry and you did too.
"Melamin, can you get us some food?" He asked you while you were twisting his blond locks around your finger. You smiled lightly. "Yea, sure," you said, "Just wait here until I get back from the kitchens." "Be fast, my love." You quickly got dressed and left the room.
No longer than five minutes later, you were already standing back in the room. "They will come and bring it in ten minutes" you informed him. You waited for the meal to come while laying on the prince's bare chest.
Eventually, a soft knock could be heard from the door. You jumped off the bed and opened the door. A young elven maid stood there with one big plate filled with salad, lembas bread, berries, apples, other fruits and two glasses of Thranduil's best Elvish wine. You didn't notice how Legolas got out of bed and wrapped some sheets around him.
You almost jumped and dropped a plate when you felt your back touching him. The maid began to blush and her eyes widened a bit. When you turned, you couldn't help but blush too. Legolas smirked and grabbed the plate while thanking the still flustered maid. You couldn't stop yourself from looking down slightly and of course, the smug prince noticed and winked at you. You took the remaining glasses of wine and walked back inside the room after thanking the young girl. Then you heard Legolas whisper: " Come on, melamin. Let's eat and then I'll show you a good time."
A/N: Wow, this is the first time I wrote something like... this... I honestly think I didn't do too bad. I have around another 18 prompts/ideas that I will be writing. It may take a while cuz school sucks. Anyways, bye Mellon nin!
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Elvish Waybread disaster (Legolas x fem! Reader)
Summary: imagine you and Legolas making Lembas without a recipe, cuz Legolas is confident that he knows how to make it from memory.
Warnings: English isn't my native language, so I'm terribly sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes and such.
Honestly, making Lembas bread wasn't that hard. The only problem is that you were an absolute disaster if you were to cook something. Yet today Legolas had to make some Lembas. He finally got to the kitchen with you right behind him.
"Mellon nin, do we have to do this today?" you asked him. "Well, of course, y/n! Don't complain! Lembas aren't that complicated, we'll be finished in no time." You groaned. You could do far better things at the moment like patrolling or making sure the spiders weren't multiplying. Eventually, you followed him further into the kitchen.
"Aren't we going to need a recipe or something, Legolas?" you asked. "Why would we need that?" "Well, to make sure that we do everything right. I'm sure they have some laying around." Legolas chuckled at that. "Who needs a recipe when you have me? I know how to make Lembas from memory!" Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a bowl.
After a minute or two, you had assembled everything you two needed for the waybread: a cup of butter, brown sugar, fresh honey, and some flour. Legolas had already lit up the elven oven. After about 10 minutes of mixing, kneading, and cutting into shape, the dough was in the oven.
You sighed "I have a bad feeling about this" "You always have a bad feeling about everything, y/n. Just relax! We still have 20 minutes before the Lembas are ready. I'm sure we got it right!" Nothing got Legolas' spirits down today. Or at least not until those 20 minutes were over. The dough was a complete disaster. It had cracks all over it and some of them were even broken into multiple pieces. "Oh, y/n, I'm sure we got it right" you mocked him. "I know it from memory! You, Legolas Thranduilion, royally suck at baking Lembas!"
From that day, Legolas left the baking over at the cooks.
A/N: Uhm, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if there are any mistakes so I can fix them. Anyways, thanks for reading, mellon nin!
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Soooo I wrote a sad Thranduil and Legolas oneshot. I felt like giving myself feels, I guess.
“Ada? Can I come in?”
The soft, childish voice startled Thranduil out of his thoughts, and he looked to the wide oaken doors of his chambers to see the timid face of his young son Legolas peering in. The child’s eyes were wide in concern as Thranduil sighed and gave an impatient wave with one jewel-bedecked hand, part of which was bound in white cloth.
Legolas stepped nervously into Thranduil’s chambers, his hands shaking slightly as he curled them into fists at his sides. “Ada...I heard you got attacked by a spider…”
Thranduil let out a snort of annoyance. “It’s none of your business, child. Stop bothering me.”
“But...ada nin….” Legolas swallowed, a shimmer of liquid passing over his desperation-filled eyes. “Can I see? To check if you’re okay?”
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” Thranduil snapped. “Clearly I am fine.”
Legolas choked, his shoulders tensing. “Please?” he said softly.
Thranduil turned to glare at him, trailing the sleeves of his robe across the floor as he paced towards his son and stared down at him. “Fine,” he spat, unwrapping the cloth from his wrist to reveal a deep purple-red gash that scissored from the center of his palm to his elbow. Blood oozed from the edges, and a faint purplish-blue coloring tainted the skin around the wound, indicating signs of bruising. Legolas stared at the wound in horror.
“Ada, did the spider bite you? Did it poison you?”
“It slashed at me with its legs,” the elvenking answered, rebandaging his arm and turning away. He massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “They have claws at the ends.”
“Ada, I’m so sorry,” Legolas whispered.
There was a long silence, and then Legolas said in a shaking voice, “Ada, why do you hate me?”
The question gave Thranduil pause, and he froze, his fingers curling towards his palms. He stammered, broken words falling from his lips. “I don’t--I don’t hate you.”
“But you don’t love me,” Legolas said, his voice almost inaudible. Thranduil felt small fingers slip into his, and Legolas rested his head against his father’s side. “You used to, back before Emel died. You used to play games with me...and...and pick flowers with me...and read me stories…” The child was crying now, burying his face in the luxurious fabric of Thranduil’s robe. “I miss you, ada. I miss...I miss us.”
Thranduil felt a sudden stabbing sensation in his chest, as if someone had pierced it with a spear. His hands trembled, and he felt himself swaying slightly, looking down at the blond head of Legolas, the elfling’s thin crown hanging askew over one ear, his face probably covered in tears. The child clung to him, shaking, and Thranduil couldn’t deny that he missed embracing his child. He missed holding him close and singing to him, or showing him plants Legolas had never seen before, or laughing at a silly joke his son had made.
For a brief moment, Thranduil allowed himself to give in to the temptation, and a few seconds later he was on his knees, arms wrapped tightly around Legolas, one hand pressing his son’s head to his chest, the other rubbing his back. Legolas sobbed and threw his arms around Thranduil’s neck, gasping for breath, tears pouring from his eyes faster than he could wipe them away. Thranduil felt his own eyes beginning to fill with liquid as he held his son, as he breathed him in, as he smoothed back Legolas’ tangled hair from his face. He missed this, Ai Valar, how he missed it…
But a moment later, anger swept over him in a wave, and he shoved Legolas away, reeling backwards and away from the child’s desperate embrace. Thranduil stumbled to his feet, brushing off his robes, his face contorting in wrath, fury bubbling within him--fury directed at himself. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to feel any kind of emotion, and now that he had just been nearly overcome by it, he felt as if he had crossed over a boundary he never should have even gotten close to. The last time he felt emotion for anything--rather, for anyone--it had hurt him too deeply for him to ever make that mistake again.
But he just did.
He tensed his fingers, feeling the sting as his nails dug into his palms, as they scraped over the fresh wound zigzagging across his skin. He could sense Legolas behind him, could hear the child sobbing softly, heart aching to be held again by the father he no longer knew. “Please, ada,” Legolas whimpered; Thranduil heard him drop to the floor and lie there weeping. “Please love me again.”
Thranduil twisted his face into a snarl and stepped over the sobbing elfling, curling his lips back from his teeth as he looked down at the child. “How can I love you again,” he said in tones coated in frost, “when I have never loved you at all?”
As a shuddering cry ripped from Legolas’ throat, Thranduil seized the child under the arms and hauled him roughly from his chambers, tossing him in a heap in the hallway. Legolas curled into a ball, crying as if his heart was breaking--but it had already broken years before. Without a second look, Thranduil slammed and locked the door of his chamber, then slumped against it, feeling as though metal bars were tightening around his chest, suffocating him.
The door vibrated as small fists pounded it, and a pleading voice, faint beyond the thickness of the door, sobbed, “Ada, please!”
But Thranduil closed his eyes and ignored the plea, ignored the darkness beginning to consume him, ignored the icy tears falling down his face, trying only to forget.
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