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#lord of the rings x reader
thewulf · 2 days
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Together || Aragorn
Summary: Request - So I'd also thought of something with Aragorn where the reader is also an ranger and the group meets her someday on their journey to Mordor as she takes him down unexpectedly as she thinks they're enemies, so she lands on top of him with a sword on his neck and in that moment he falls for her immediately... Read Rest Here
A/N: Okay had a blast writing this one. Happy birthday anon, hope you enjoy it :)
Pairing: Aragorn x Reader
Word Count: 4.1k +
TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings
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Under the canopy of ancient oaks, the dense forest of Eriador hums with the life of creatures both small and menacing. Among them you move silently, cloaked in the hues of earth and leaf. As a ranger of great skill your keen eyes scan the underbrush for signs of your quarry. For days you have been on the trail of a band of orcs. Their clumsy passage through the woods an affront to the quiet sanctity of nature. With every soft step your hand rests near the hilt of your sword. Your long-time trusted companion in the ever-lonely wilds.
As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows through the trees, your pursuit leads you to a clearing where the tracks are fresher. Much more hurried. Crouched behind a bush your eyes narrow upon the sight of figures crossing the distance. It was a mixed company, not of orcs, but of men, an elf, a dwarf, and others you cannot readily identify from your hidden vantage.
Driven by a mix of caution and curiosity you watch them, your mind racing with possibilities. Could these travelers be allied with your foes? Perhaps orchestrating the movements of the orcs for darker purposes? The presence of such diverse races together is unusual, but in these troubled times alliances are formed in desperation.
Deciding that the risk of letting potential enemies pass is too great you prepare an ambush. As the group nears you leap from your cover, swift as a shadow at dusk. Your target was the tall, commanding man at the forefront. Before he could react you tackled him to the ground with your sword at his throat. The shock in his eyes mirrors your own fierce determination. You’d managed to take the entire group by surprise.
"Who are you and why do you travel with such company through these woods?" you demand. Your voice a low whisper against the rustling leaves.
Before the man can reply, a powerful voice booms from behind you, "Peace, Y/N! Lower your weapon. These are friends, not foes!" Your eyes crinkle in confusion with your name that you kept so well hidden spoken so freely.
You turn slightly with your blade still pressed to the man’s throat to see an elderly man with a staff. He was dressed in a long grey cloak. His eyes twinkle with a mix of amusement and stern rebuke. He extends a hand in peace, "Forgive the suddenness of our meeting. I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. You have nothing to fear from us my dear child."
"How do you know my name?" you snap as the tension raised in your voice. Few knew of your existence as you preferred the solitude of the forest to the company of towns and taverns.
"It is my business to know much that goes on in this world. Especially when it concerns those who could alter its course," Gandalf answers with a calm that seems to weave peace through the air itself leaving you rather confused by his words. Wizards, you could never understand them with their riddles.
With a frown you turn back to disheveled man sneering at him, “Tell your elf to lower his bow and then we can talk.” You pressed the blade into his neck further careful not to draw blood but to show you meant business at the same time.
The man nodded, “Legolas, please.”
The elf in the group with his bow still pointed in your direction now lowers it and steps forward. “We mean no harm to you or your lands. We seek only passage and perhaps some aid. This quest carries great weight." The elf called Legolas spoke right to you.
His words seemed sincere. They carry a sense of shared purpose. While you're still on edge the immediate threat of the group seems to wane. You slowly stand, sheathing your sword with reluctance. The man you had pinned—Aragorn, as Gandalf introduced him—rises, brushing off his cloak, his gaze never leaving yours. A mix of embarrassment and admiration passes between you.
Gandalf steps forward trying to smooth over the tension. "Aragorn leads us on a quest of great importance," he explains. "And from what I see your skills could aid us greatly. What say you, Y/N? Will you join the Fellowship and lend us your strength?"
You hesitate as your duty to your own lands weighing heavily on you. "I cannot abandon my watch. The darkness grows and my lands need protecting."
Aragorn steps forward. His expression earnest. "I understand your duty for I too am sworn to protect the lands of men in the north. But this quest... if we succeed, all lands will be safer, including yours. We need your strength and skill. I ask you not for my sake but for all our sakes."
Looking from Aragorn to Gandalf and Legolas, you're torn. The sincerity in Aragorn's eyes is compelling and there's a resolve there that speaks of his immediate respect and admiration for you. After a long pause, you nod slowly. "For the greater good, then. I will join you. But we must ensure my lands are safeguarded in my absence." It was no easy choice but even you knew you could hardly handle the orcs now… if it got worse there would be no land for you to protect.
"Agreed," Aragorn replies with a smile, a small, knowing curve of his lips. "Together we will protect all our homes. Walk with me and I will explain this further.” And so, you did.
As you walked alongside Aragorn away from the ears of the others except maybe Legolas, his voice takes on a solemn tone. He speaks of a great burden and a journey that began long ago in the quiet shire of the Hobbits.
“A darkness grows in the East under the shadow of Mordor, where the Dark Lord Sauron forges his malice into a single form,” Aragorn begins. “A ring, one of power and despair, lost for ages has resurfaced. It was found by the most unlikely of creatures—a Hobbit named Bilbo Baggins.”
He tells you how the wizard Gandalf uncovered the truth of this simple golden band. It is the One Ring, through which Sauron can conquer all of middle earth. But it is also his one point of vulnerability.
“The Ring must be destroyed,” Aragorn continues, “and that can only be done in the fires of Mount Doom where it was forged.” His gaze meets yours, impressing upon you the gravity of their task. “A Fellowship has been formed. A company sworn to protect Frodo on this perilous path. For without the Ring’s destruction… darkness will consume our lands, leaving no corner of the world untouched by its ruin.”
He pauses allowing the weight of his words to sink in. “This is our quest to see the end of the Ring and the fall of Sauron. And now you are part of this story, part of our hope. For alone we cannot stand, but together we might prevail.”
The immensity of Aragorn's tale seems to echo through the silence around you. As the responsibility and peril of what lies ahead sinks into your heart. "This is... more than I expected," you confess. Your voice betraying a mix of awe and trepidation. Shadows have been a common adversary in your solitary ranger life but the thought of a single ring holding the fate of all life in middle earth is overwhelming in the worst way.
Aragorn watches you with eyes that have seen the weight of the world but still hold a glimmer of hope. "It is a lot to take in," he acknowledges with his voice a steady presence amidst your inner turmoil. "But remember every meaningful journey begins with a single step. We do not choose the times we live in only how we meet them."
His words meant to comfort kindle a spark of resolve within you. "Then we walk this path together," you say finding strength in his unwavering resolve. "I've fought to keep darkness at bay from my corner of the world. Now it seems I shall extend my watch over the wider lands of middle earth."
Aragorn's eyes soften and a smile plays at the corner of his mouth, a rare break from his stoic mask. "With your help I believe we stand a chance. Let us go forward with hope in our hearts and a steadfast will," he says with a firm belief underpinning his words.
As you start to walk back towards the Fellowship Aragorn's tone lightens once more and he casts you a mischievous glance. "And I must say, for someone so adept at navigating these wild lands your skill at catching us unaware is remarkable," he jests. A playful note in his voice. "Even the elf’s keen eyes did not see you coming, which, I assure you, will be a source of friendly jest for many years to come."
The tension that held you moments before unravels into laughter. The absurdity of the situation finally coming forward. "I'll remember to tread lightly next time—or perhaps not," you respond with a chuckle.
From a distance, Legolas, whose elven senses miss little, looks up from his conversation with Gimli. He casts a mockingly indignant glance toward Aragorn. His eyes speaking silent volumes of an 'I heard that.' His feigned glare dissolves into a smile. Acknowledging the jest with the grace and good humor characteristic of the Woodland Prince.
The shared laughter and Legolas' playful acknowledgment bridge the space between you helped to weave the Fellowship closer together in mutual affection. It's a light-hearted interlude, reminding you all that despite the daunting path ahead you are surrounded by companions who will share the burden with unwavering support and moments of joy.
As you all move forward the sun dips below the horizon and the journey of the Fellowship grows richer by one more warrior. In the fading light Aragorn walks beside you, your strides matched. It was a simple silent acknowledgment of the bond beginning to form. Blossoming from the unexpected encounter that could very well shape the fate of all.
The Fellowship continues its perilous journey through Middle earth. The days meld into each other each bringing its own set of challenges and trials. You find your place among these diverse companions. Your skills as a ranger becoming invaluable as you navigate the treacherous terrain. Whether it's finding safe passages through impassable woods or tracking the movements of distant enemies your expertise does not go unnoticed.
Legolas often joins you on scouting missions. His feather light footfalls barely stirring the leaves. Gimli, the dwarf, though gruff, begins sharing tales of the deep mines of Moria with a relish that only grows with your attentive silence. Even Merry and Pippin find ways to lighten your load, often bringing you sweet, wild berries they gather along the way. Aragorn watches all of this with a thoughtful expression often playing across his face. In dangerous moments when shadowy figures loom and the threat of orcs feels ever-present, he stays close. His protectiveness is subtle, a guiding hand at your back, a cautious glance that lingers just a moment too long. You notice the unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day.
As the journey presses onward Aragorn finds himself increasingly drawn to your strength and resilience. He respects your independence, the way you move through the forest, part of its shadow and light, yet he feels a burgeoning desire to protect you. It’s a feeling that stirs deep within him, unbidden yet persistent.
One bitterly cold night as the Fellowship encamps in a secluded glen your turn at watch finds you shivering against the chill. The fire is but a low glow as its warmth insufficient against the piercing cold. You hug your cloak tighter around your shoulders. You hear the soft approach of footsteps too heavy to be of Legolas.
Aragorn appears by your side his face etched with concern. Without a word he drapes his own, heavier cloak around your shoulders. The warmth from the cloak that was still holding the heat of his body, seeps into your chilled bones.
But you shake your head at his actions. "You'll be too cold," you protest trying to shrug off the cloak back onto him.
Aragorn shakes his head gently pushing the cloak back over your shoulders. "I'm used to the cold. I’m from the north you are not," he insists softly. "Keep it. It's more important that you stay warm."
Gratefully you wrap the cloak tighter around you as Aragorn settles beside you. "Tell me of your lands," he says quietly. His voice inviting you to share more than just the cold night air.
"My home," you begin. Your voice warming as you describe the hidden valleys and towering forests of your land, "is secluded and wild, full of ancient trees that seem to touch the sky. There are streams that sparkle with the clearest water you've ever seen and fields of flowers that bloom so vividly they look like a painter's canvas."
Aragorn listens intently. His eyes reflecting a growing fascination. "And the creatures," you continue, "are as varied as the plants. From the smallest bird to the majestic stags that roam freely… each adds to the life of the forest. It's a place where the world feels untouched, preserved from the scars of battle and time."
As you speak, Aragorn's gaze deepens as if he can see the very landscapes you describe. "It sounds beautiful," he murmurs looking straight at you as you spoke so lovingly of your home, "a land worth protecting."
Encouraged by his interest you lean into him, seeking warmth in more than just his cloak. Aragorn wraps an arm around you making sure to pull you closer. In the shelter of his embrace, the cold feels a world away. The moment feels suspended in time, your breaths mingling, hearts beating a steady rhythm.
Nestled in the safety of Aragorn's arm feels right even if it’s so foreign to you. You stay like that for the remainder of your watch with the warmth of his presence and the cloak combined keeping the night's chill at bay. When dawn paints the sky with hues of pink and gold, you, and Aragorn rise, knowing that while the journey ahead is fraught with peril, the warmth between you will carry you through the darkest times.
As the days stretch and the challenges of your journey with the Fellowship intensify the bond between you and Aragorn deepens with each shared glance and whispered word. The lightness in the air is palpable. Especially when the hobbits, Merry and Pippin, exchange amused looks or giggle softly whenever you and Aragorn share a tender moment.
One cool morning as the camp stirs awake and prepares for the day’s trek, Aragorn approaches you with a shy demeanor that you've come to cherish. In his hand is a small, intricately carved wooden figurine. “I made this for you,” he says presenting it with a modest pride. “It’s a bird from your forest.” The craftsmanship is exquisite. Somehow he captured the spirit of the wilderness you hold dear.
Moved by this thoughtful gesture you examine the figurine closely, the details meticulously rendered. "Thank you, Aragorn. It's beautiful. More beautiful than the bird itself," you say sincerely. At this, a blush creeps across Aragorn’s cheeks. It was a rare sight that makes him seem almost boyish, his usual composed exterior softened by your appreciation. Surprising both him and you, you wrap your arms around him in a quick, heartfelt hug—a rarity for you, as you've never been one to initiate physical touch save for cold nights.
This closeness that has enveloped you both is fortified not just through acts of tenderness but also through the trials that test your resolve. During a perilous trek through a narrow gorge, a sudden crumbling of the path catches Aragorn off-guard. Reacting with the swift instincts of a seasoned ranger you grab his arm and pull him back from the brink of a deadly fall. Eyes locked with a rush of shared relief and unspoken thanks passes between you. "Thank you, Y/N," he breathes out. His hand squeezed yours in a lingering, grateful touch.
This moment cements your mutual reliance and it's not long before it is tested again under more dire circumstances. As the Fellowship faces an overwhelming assault at the gates of an enemy stronghold, the chaos of battle quickly ensues. Amid the clash of steel and shadow you find yourself momentarily overwhelmed. Panic rising in your chest as an orc nearly breaches your guard. In that critical instant Aragorn is there, his presence a calming force. "Stay strong, Y/N. I am here with you," he whispers fiercely. His words cutting through the din of battle making sure to anchor you back to the moment.
Revitalized by his words you fight with renewed vigor, but the battle tests you further. As you engage a formidable orc chieftain his massive blade swings at you with lethal force. You parry, but the strength behind the attack staggers you. Before the orc can strike the final blow, Aragorn intervenes with a desperate shout deflecting the deadly arc just inches from you. Saving your life twice within a matter of a few moments apart. Together you rally, your movements fluid and fierce and with a powerful combination of strikes you bring the towering foe down.
The battle's intensity doesn’t immediately fade, but as it does Aragorn's hand finds your shoulder. His grip was firm and reassuring. His eyes alight with the fire of battle and something deeper meet yours. "With you by my side I believe there is no battle we cannot win," he declares his voice thick with emotion of the battle and nearly losing you. As you and the rest of the Fellowship take a moment to regroup and recover it’s clear that what you and Aragorn share has evolved beyond companionship to something profound. With each step forward towards the dark heart of Mordor your bond strengthens.
As the harsh landscape of Mordor stretches endlessly before you, the air thick with the stench of doom and the ground scarred by countless battles, the Fellowship readies itself for what everyone understands to be the final confrontation. Amid the chaos of preparations and sharpened swords you and Aragorn find a brief respite behind a jutting crag, a momentary shield from the surrounding turmoil.
Aragorn looks at you carefully. His eyes reflecting the storm of emotions raging inside him—hope, fear, determination. “We have come far, haven’t we?” he says softly. Almost lost in the clamor of the encampment.
“Yes, farther than I ever imagined,” you reply feeling the weight of every mile traveled and battle fought in your bones. “And through it all your presence has been my anchor.”
He takes your hand. His touch steady and sure. “And I will remain by your side,” he vows, “through whatever may come. No matter the darkness that lies ahead… we face it together.”
You nod. Your resolve fortified by his words. “Together,” you affirm, squeezing his hand, the word a silent oath between you.
As you both turn to face the battlefield the ominous shadow of Mount Doom looms in the distance. A stark reminder of the task yet unfinished. The air vibrates with the tension of imminent conflict. As the Fellowship lines up ready to engage the enemy forces, the battle begins with a deafening roar.
The clash is brutal. A maelstrom of steel and shadow as both sides pour their fury into each other. Amidst the chaos your focus narrows to the figures around you—Aragorn fighting with the grace and fury of a born leader. His blade a flash of silver in the dim light.
In the middle of it all the ground shakes violently underfoot. A tremor that sends many stumbling. A profound boom rolls across the battlefield echoing from the direction of Mount Doom. The combatants pause, uncertainty halting their movements as all eyes turn towards the source of the disturbance.
As if by a miracle a great light bursts forth from the mountain. A blinding flash that pierces the shadowed sky. The Ring, the source of so much pain and darkness, has been destroyed. You feel a surge of relief so intense it momentarily takes your breath away. Aragorn's face lights up with unrestrained joy as he turns to you, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "They did it! Sam and Frodo did it!" he shouts his laughter mingling with his words. A sound so full of relief and disbelief that it's contagious.
Around you the enemy falters, confusion and fear taking hold as the reality of their defeat sinks in. The forces of darkness begin to retreat, their will broken by the destruction of the Ring. As the battlefield quiets the dawn begins to break casting the first gentle light over a world freed from tyranny. You and Aragorn embrace each of your laughter mixing with tears of joy. The sound a vivid testament to the overwhelming relief of the moment. “We’re really here,” you giggle with utter relief, “it’s truly over!”
Rejoining the Fellowship your laughter continues, shared amongst friends who have become family. Watching the new day unfold the group shares a moment of elation. The shared laughter a release of months of tension and fear. With the shadow of the past dispelled, hope shines anew on the horizon promising a future filled with peace and renewal. Together with Aragorn at your side, you step forward into a world reborn.
As the harsh landscape of Mordor fades into the distance behind you replaced by the rolling hills and lush greenery of Gondor the Fellowship's journey reaches its conclusion in the grand city of Minas Tirith. Here, amidst the grandeur of the White City, the coronation of Aragorn, the rightful king, takes place—a moment of triumph and renewal for all of middle earth.
The first light of dawn paints the spires of Minas Tirith with a golden hue. The city awakens to a day of profound significance. The air is filled with the sounds of celebration; the streets are bustling with citizens and allies from across middle earth all gathered to witness a historic moment. Today Aragorn will be crowned King, an event that promises a new era of peace and prosperity for the realm.
Throughout the city banners flutter in the breeze, their vibrant colors a stark contrast against the white stone of the city. The coronation ceremony itself is nothing short of magnificent, held in the open air where the morning sun casts a regal glow over the assembled crowd. Aragorn stands before them, a figure of strength and hope, his voice resonant as he speaks the oaths of kingship.
After the formalities as the echoes of the last trumpet fade into the cool air, the new King Aragorn is surrounded by well-wishers and dignitaries each eager to pay their respects. But his eyes scan the crowd for only one face �� yours. With a smile that speaks of shared secrets and promises kept he excuses himself from the throng and makes his way toward you.
You meet him halfway, your heart swelling with pride and love as you look upon the man who has overcome so much to claim his rightful place. Aragorn’s expression softens when he sees you, all the weight of his new role momentarily forgotten. “There would be no joy in this day if I could not share it with you, my Y/N,” he says. His voice was low, meant for your ears alone. His hands reach out gently cradling your face. “You have been my courage when fear would take me. My light in the darkest of times. And it is my greatest hope that you will stand by my side, not just today, but always, as my queen. Together.”
Your eyes brimming with tears of joy, meet his gaze. All the noise and celebration around you fade into a hushed silence. Overwhelmed by his words your heart answers with a silent nod, affirming your shared future.
Aragorn’s eyes flicker with a mixture of tenderness and passion as he leans in. The world holds its breath as his lips finally meet yours in a kiss that is both a seal of everything past and a promise of everything to come. It is deep and passionate, conveying years of struggle, sorrow, victory, and an unbreakable bond.
As you part with his lips, breathless and flushed, the world comes rushing back. Cheers rise around you as a joyful noise that celebrates not just a king’s coronation but the love and unity that stands as the true foundation of his reign.
Hand in hand you stand by Aragorn as he faces the people of Gondor, now truly his queen in spirit and soon in title. Together you look out over the sea of faces, over a land that, at last, can dream of peace. And in this moment you know that every step, every sacrifice, has led to this perfect beginning.
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jamiewintons · 2 days
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Boromir Relationship Headcanons
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Boromir x F!Reader, headcanons are both SFW & NSFW (so no minors, please!). This is based on the movie version of Boromir, so if anything contradicts the books, I apologise 🙏
These are just some of the first headcanons that came to me, so I may end up doing a second post at some point! Anyway, hope everyone enjoys, and if you’d like to discuss Boromir headcanons, my askbox is always open!
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SFW Headcanons
- Boromir is quite the romantic. He’s never really been in love before you, so it catches him by surprise how strongly he feels for you. Like he finds himself randomly thinking about you while he’s training and ends up all flustered and distracted. He never saw himself getting married either - he’d always been too busy defending Gondor - but once he falls for you there’s no doubt in his mind that he wants you to be his wife.
- Even if you’re of a proper status to be Boromir’s wife, there’s a good chance that Denethor won’t think you’re good enough for his favourite son. But Boromir will not relent in his desire to marry you, even if that means defying his father and marrying you in secret. There’s a good chance that Denethor will get past it eventually anyway, because in his eyes Boromir can really do no wrong.
- He is incredibly physically affectionate - he loves giving hugs, and cuddling, and picking you up and carrying you. He loves being the big spoon, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him while he buries his face in your hair. Even if he’s had the most stressful day imaginable, holding you in his arms makes all of the stress and bad things in the world seem to melt away, even if only temporarily.
- Boromir hates being away from you, though obviously his duty to Gondor means he often has to leave for battle, sometimes even for long campaigns. But he keeps you on his mind always, and he fights in your name just as much as he fights for his country and his people.
- One of the ways to make Boromir melt is to show him gentleness and tenderness. Like you tending to his wounds after a battle? You washing his hair? He’s going to fall even more in love with you and look at you with pure adoration in his eyes, just feeling so lucky to have married the most wonderful woman in Middle Earth.
- I think he’d want to have a big family, maybe four or five kids, and a mix of daughters and sons! Of course if you’re not comfortable with that, he’ll defer to your choice - he understands that when it comes to making a child, he’s really got the easy job. If you do end up having children, he’d be such a sweet and attentive father - just imagine him playing with your kids the way he did with Merry and Pippin in Fellowship 🥹 - and I like to think that he would encourage his daughters’ interests just as much as his sons’! He’s definitely making sure not to play favourites at all either, because he saw how much that hurt Faramir when they were growing up and to this day.
- (I saw an imagine post talking about dad Boromir where he plays knights with his daughters and it solidified girldad!Boromir as my favourite headcanon, but I’m having trouble finding it again - if anyone knows the post I’m talking about please send me a link, I’ll love you forever ❤️🙏)
NSFW Headcanons
- Boromir is a very attentive lover, and so so handsy. This man will be touching you all over while you’re making love, particularly focusing on your hips, breasts, and thighs. I think he’d love it if you’re on the thicker side, because it makes it even more satisfying for him to touch you.
- He can be a massive tease - especially if you have particular sweet spots that he knows how to exploit in the best way possible. When you moan loudly, he’ll look at you with the biggest grin on his face as he asks you if you’re enjoying yourself. He’s a tease with his words too - sometimes he’ll whisper something dirty in your ear in an otherwise innocent situation just to see you blush - but he’ll certainly follow through on any promises he might have made to you later.
- When Boromir’s not being a tease he’s still talking a lot, mainly a lot of praise and whispered sweet nothings. If you talk dirty to him, it drives him crazy.
- This man absolutely has a breeding kink. I don’t know what exactly makes me think that but I just get that vibe from him. Like I said above, he wants to have a big family, and he certainly fantasises about getting you pregnant. If you beg him to cum inside of you he will fold so quickly. And when you are pregnant, he can barely keep his hands off of you, though he makes sure to be extra gentle as to not accidentally hurt you while you’re in such a delicate condition.
- He eats pussy like he’s starving and you’re the first food he’s seen in weeks. If he could spend all of his time with his head between your thighs he’d probably die happy.
- Also he loves it when you sit on his face.
- He’s very proud of himself when he makes you come really hard, and he usually won’t think about his pleasure until he’s made you come at least twice, maybe three times. As such, he’s not really into quickies, he wants to take his time.
- His favourite places to have sex are in bed, and also sometimes in the bath (but touching each other in the bath usually leads to him taking you to bed).
- Boromir prefers to be able to look you in the eyes when you have sex, so any position that facilitates that will be a favourite. He does like putting your legs over his shoulders, but he also likes watching you ride him.
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itsfeckinwimdy · 1 year
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10 Types of Kisses
Various LOTR/TH x Reader
Pairings: Aragorn, Fili, Haldir, Kili, & Legolas x Reader (separately).
Pronouns: n/a.
Prompt(s): 10 types of kisses by @urfriendlywriter. You can find her post here. (I used 9/10 of them).
Word Count: 3.4k words (3415)
Warnings: No beta, we die like Boromir. open wounds (Aragorns + Fili's), marriage (Fili's), swearing (Kili's), mentions of battle + death + blood (Legolas).
Tree Speaks: I had a lot of fun writing this but it also went into territory that I'm not particularly comfortable with writing yet so we'll see how this pans out.
Translations: amad - mother, dwarrowdams - a term used for female dwarves.
LOTR + TH Masterlist
Published: 25/02/2023
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1. Aragorn
soft kisses - where they're just lying beside you, hands playing with your hair as they trail tender kisses all over your lips
The two of you were meant to be sleeping of course, but the gloom of the mines made it hard to settle. You supposed that's why he pulled you away from the others slightly, to a spot just that bit further away.
Aragorn was on first watch as usual, having made it his task since the beginning of the journey, and always insisted that the hobbits and Gandalf got plenty of sleep. But with that came the usual knowing looks between the two of you as Aragorn knew his love wouldn't sleep unless he would.
So with that knowledge, and him sensing his love's rising anxiety at being trapped underground, it now brought them to this.
He tilted your head up from where it was resting against his chest, his hand cupping your face. Aragorn brushed a few loose strands of hair off your face from where it had fallen out of place as his own head tilted down towards yours. His hand gently entwined with your other, and he paused in his movements, allowing you to decide next.
You gently reached up, threading your hand through his long locks and gently pulling him down towards you. He pressed his lips to yours, mouth moving slowly, softly, intimately.
He pulled away, your lips chasing after his, a small smile gracing his lips as he pressed another kiss, and then another, and then another to your lips.
the type of kiss where you can't find words to say after, or the ones where your forehead lingers against each other's
Aragorn's horse trotted through helms deep, having just pulled him up from the river bed where if not found, he would've succumbed to his wounds. He dismounted his horse and received a scolding from Gimli before forcing himself up the staircases and into the deep.
Legolas rose from outside the doors, greeting his friend who believed him dead. The elf pulled him into a familiar embrace before pulling back and making a sarcastic comment about the ranger.
The elf turned a small smile gracing his face before yelling the name of a person. The ranger followed his line of sight. It fell on his love, you.
You looked up after the elf who yelled out to you, before seeing the man you mourned for standing with him. Abandoning your stuff, you ran to him, arms thrown over his shoulders and crushing him to your chest as a few sobs left you.
His arms encircled you as he leant his forehead against yours. He didn't care at that point about the mud caking him and he didn't think you cared enough at that point, so it made no odds on whether he was careful or not.
He pulled back slightly, raising his hand to caress your face before pressing his lips to yours. Tears left both of you as his mouth moved languidly with yours.
Aragorn pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He wanted to say so much to you, fearing that he would never see you again but all thoughts left him as he wished to stay in this moment, longing for nothing but you.
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2. Fili
messy kisses - curly hair, ruffled sheets and half-buttoned clothes as you just want more and at that moment, they're the most beautiful soul to you ever
The sun trickled in through the window, bypassing the curtains that hadn't been fully drawn across the night before. The young (ish) couple lounged in the bed, bodies pressed together as close as they could get with the few layers of clothes still between them.
He tilted your head up to meet his, his lips pressing against yours, moving languidly in the early morn. Fili reached up, hand caressing your courting and marriage braids that were still somewhat intact.
He groaned, feeling one of your hands gripping the hair at the base of his neck and the other slipping under his shirt across his chest.
Fili pulled back, eyes fluttering open to meet yours; your own half-lidded as you drew in a few stuttering breaths. It was a pleasant greeting from your love first thing in the morning, one that you would be against again.
You gazed up at Fili, the dwarf hovering over you, careful not to rest his entire body weight on you. The tressels of sunlight filtered through his hair, causing a glow to shine over him.
His eyes trailed over your face, memorising every detail as if it was the first time he saw you.
kisses on your body ♡ frail kisses on your shoulder! on your lower back, belly and trailing to your neck, collarbones, lips.
A cry of pain left your lips.
Oin pulled the blood-soaked cloth away from where it was pressed tightly against your side. The infection from the arrow had spread, the orcs having laced it with something deadly.
The pain wasn't something Fili wished on anyone, much less you. So he did his best to comfort you whilst the infection ransacked your body. His hands firmly held you, one holding the back of your head, and the other gripping your forearm to stop you from forcing Oin's hand away from the wound he was trying his best to treat.
After Oin had doused the cut in water, trying to flood any dirt that wormed its way in, Fili pulled you closer. The healer moved back to gather some more altheas and cloths, leaving you curled against your prince's chest.
Fili dropped his head down to your shoulder, as your tears continued to douse his shirt - not that he cared as it was covered in sweat, grime, and whatever else from the trip across middle earth - his hand on your head slipping down to the back of your neck, stroking his fingers in what he hoped was a soothing pattern.
He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, the fabric of your tunic had been pulled away, cut away for easier access. It would need replacing, he noted, but hoped that it would be enough to cover you until the sun rose again.
Fili continued his ministrations, pressing another kiss further up your shoulder. And then another at the junction where it met your neck. He considered pressing one to your neck, in that one spot he knew made you shiver, but with the way you were sitting in his lap you were already considered improper in public, so he begrudgingly decided against it.
Oin chose to return at that moment, pressing the churned-up altheas against your wound and then tying the cleanest cloth over it. You cried out in pain, more tears falling. It was like someone was driving a burning knife into your arm, over, and over, and over again. The pain rolling in waves.
Fili kept whispering words of praises and comfort, the Kadzhul translations lost in your mind as all you could feel was the pain, and him.
The knot was finally tied on the bandage. Fili slid his hand from the back of your neck to cup your face, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead before leaning his own upon yours.
I'm here, you're safe now, I love you, the action spoke more words than Fili could find himself saying.
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3. Haldir
lazy kisses as they admire you - fingers delicately trialing your jaw as they kiss your lips
"Haldir," you groaned, leaning back against his chest, head turned up to face him. A smile graced his lips, his eyes locked with yours, shining full of love.
It wasn't often you got to spend a prolonged period of time with your Marchwarden, especially with him being gone for months at a time to guard Lothlórien's borders. So any time you spent with him was precious, even if you knew he would be leaving at the end of it again.
The braid in his hair was loose, albeit from your hands running through his hair earlier, causing him to have a sexy, but dishevelled look. The thought of elves being supermodels no matter what state they were in flashed through your mind again causing you to chuckle slightly.
Haldir raised his hand, letting it linger under your jaw as he delicately leaned down to place another kiss against your lips. Warmth bloomed through you and as his lips moved against yours, all thought about him having to leave again in a few days retreated into the depths of your mind.
You were drunk off the taste of him, off his kisses as he stole your breath each time. And nothing would ever change that.
goodbye kisses - kisses lingering like liquor in each other's lips, bitter but sweet, "I'll always come back to you, love. you're my home after all."
The boats gifted to the fellowship had just finished being prepared and were packed full of provisions to last you a good while.
The thought of having to leave your home again haunted you but not just because it was where you lived. No, because this time you were leaving your love, not knowing when you were to see him again. He was your home.
The Marchwarden was allowed to see his love off, having been granted a week's leave whilst you and the fellowship recovered and stayed in Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien. After you were sent as an emissary to Imladris, Rivendell in the common tongue, and word had returned that you had embarked on a journey to destroy the one ring, Haldir was worried for you.
He knew the history of the ring, as did most if not all elves and was worried about the dangers you may face. He knew that you could protect yourself, having been a sparring partner against you for years, but the worry did not dissipate.
He met you at the shoreline, his hand over his heart in the traditional greeting before he held your hand in his. Sadness filled his eyes as he wished not to see you leave, but knowing that this was a journey you were willing to take.
Haldir leant his head against yours as he fixed the cloak hung around your shoulders, ensuring that the broach was attached properly.
His hands lingered on your waist as he prepared himself to say goodbye again. It was one thing being the one who was leaving, but now that he was on the receiving side for once, he now knew how your heart felt each time he went on patrol. That feeling of not knowing if you were coming back or not eating at his heart.
Your hand on his cheek stole his spiralling mind from his thoughts as your lips pressed against his. A tear threatened to leave his eye as he consumed your kiss like a drug. The fear bubbling in his chest soothing to make way for the love he held for you but the melancholy feeling at having to be parted from you made it more bittersweet than anything.
His lips lingered over yours as you pulled away, his hand raising to stoke a strand of hair back from your face. Haldir wished he could keep you here in his arms but understood the task you had undertaken would not be dropped lightly.
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4. Kili
kissing and realising this is the person you'll always love, you'll always want to touch and snuggle with
Kili didn't think he could hold you any closer than he currently was.
You were practically melded into him, hands gripping tightly to the back of his jacket. The clothing was still damp from the thunderous storm you had walked through, but nonetheless had to still wear.
The terror that shot through him as the thunder giant collided with the mountain, believing that he had lost not only his brother but you as well, was something he never wished to feel again. His hands trembled slightly at the thought.
He shifted slightly, taking some pressure off his shoulder whilst pulling you upwards slightly so you were level with him. The ground wasn't pleasant to lie on, less so on his side, and even less so with damp clothes on, but Kili knew this was the company's best option right now.
Kili rested his head against yours, his eyes meeting yours. He nudged his nose with yours affectionately, giving you time to pull away.
It was something he always did, you noted. Every time he wanted to kiss you but couldn't find the words to say it, or was surrounded by too many prying eyes, he did that. Gave you that tell that allowed you to decide what happens next.
You tentatively leant forwards, tilting your head upwards ever so slightly, letting your lips press against his. There was no rush. No incessant desire to pull the other closer, just him.
Kili moved his lips slowly with yours, savouring every moment that he got with you. Fuck, he loved you. The realisation pulled at his heartstrings more, knowing that he could've lost you today.
prohibited kiss - you're not even supposed to be seeing each other but your hands are on his hair and his hands around your waist, lower bodies pressing into each other as you kiss
Laughter radiated through your body as you were pulled through the endless turns and corridors of Erebor. The stone walls were lined with torches and braziers all lit with fires burning brightly.
To anyone else, it would be a maze, a catacomb of tunnels that unless sense was made of them, would surely lead to your demise. But years of living there had engraved the pathways into your mind, and no doubt Kili's.
His hand dragged you to a secluded corner, himself coming to a halt. He could no longer hear the guards trying to follow the two of you. Pride flooded his chest as he gazed back at you, finally alone with his betrothed.
You were finally able to get a good look at him, now that he didn't have all the dwarrowdams fawning over him. Even if he wasn't "beautiful" by dwarf standards, he was still a prince and would have people trying to gain his favour.
But his title didn't matter to you. Kili did.
And by the creator himself, did you love the way he looked. His hair tousled from the running, and the short beard he was so desperately trying to grow accentuated his face.
But the ceremonial robes that hung to his body? You couldn't resist.
He found himself pushed back, pinned against the pillar. Kili's eyes locked with yours, the same fire of desire within him, burning through you.
Your lips pressed with his, mouths moving frantically with the others. Your hands that gripped onto the front of his robes slid up, trailing up his neck and into his hair, pulling slightly to press him into you more.  A groan left him at a particularly harsh tug before your hand moved to trace his courting braid.
He pulled away, panting, breathless, kissing you again and pulling you into him, arms gripping your waist, hands in his hair, your bodies practically merging into one. If his Amad caught him now, he wouldn't even have to face the scornful looks of Dwalin, he would already be lying in his grave.
But could he let you go? Fuck no.
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5. Legolas
shy kisses - when you're the one pulling them closer, and they nuzzle their face in your crook after the kiss, hands around your waist as their ears get red
You were scared. If anything you were currently lustful, but you were about to fight in a war against ten thousand troops with an army of less than a third of that. So you were scared.
Legolas had turned to where you leant against one of the pillars, choosing to come and check all the fastenings on your armour. He was meticulous and methodical as he went to each and every one, adjusting where he deemed necessary whilst checking it caused you no discomfort.
A soft smile graced your face, as you watch his gentle movements before reaching out to cup his face in one of your hands. A blush, so subtle anyone who didn’t know Legolas would miss it, warmed his face, his head lifting and eyes locking with yours. It was as if he was staring straight into your soul, his piercing grey eyes full of love but fear.
You pulled him towards you, Legolas leaning his head down as his hand held over yours on his face, the other resting gently on your waist. Leaning up, you gently pressed your lips to his. Just once, mind you, the action as tender as possible, letting him come to you.
Legolas leant into you, pressing his lips back against yours, moving at a slow pace. He wanted to savour this moment as much as possible before the two of you walked to what could be your deaths.
ahem.
The clearing of the person's throat sprung the two of you apart, you mentally preparing for the endless stream of apologies to whichever passerby caught you, only for it to be someone you knew all too well.
"Aragorn." You spoke, heavily embarrassed to be caught with your lover.
The ranger looked between the two of you, his face being that awful neutral resting one making it so you couldn't judge his feelings on the matter. Aragorn must have read the panic starting to creep up in you as a teasing smile broke out.
“I have no qualms with this,” he began before looking over his shoulder towards the entrance of the armoury, “but the people of Rohan may not be as forgiving if you are caught.”
He turned on his heel, making his way up the staircase and leaving the two to their devices.
A moment passed and then a chuckle left your lips as a sigh left Legolas’. His head fell to your shoulder as the blush absconding his cheeks spread like wildfire tinting his ears a rosy colour.
At least it was only Aragorn, you mused, If Gimli had found you then he wouldn’t stop teasing your elf.
kisses of reassurance - saying that you're safe, still with them, that your heart is still beating wildly in your chest, that they couldn't get rid of you if they tried, that for some insane reason, you're not dead yet
Your chest heaved, trying to inhale as much air as possible as you sprinted up the mud-soaked hill. Aragorn had yelled for the soldiers to retreat into Minas Tirith and you were making your way as fast as you could until an arrow pierced your shoulder.
The doors were closed and sealed as you entered alongside the last few stragglers, a resounding bang from the wood hitting the stone frame. The room spun on its axis.
The throbbing pain in your arm continued, each ebb seeming stronger which was probably due to the adrenaline wearing off. Maybe you should've stayed fighting, it surely couldn't hurt as much as your arm did, you thought as your uninjured arm reached out to hold yourself up against the wall.
Giving up on keeping yourself upright, you slid falling somewhat ungracefully to the floor, blood dripping from your wound and soaking your sleeve. It was funny how much damage one arrow could cause.
You blinked.
The sun had risen, and from where you could see it, it was around mid-morning. Your eyes focused and you could see a worried face in a sea of platinum blonde hair. Legolas.
Ignoring the sound of the elf’s worry, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, as he gracefully knelt down next to you. His hands mindlessly moved to cup your face, as he had to pull his eyes away from your crudely bandaged arm. The arrow had been jagged and cut more as it pierced you, causing more blood to be lost.
Your hand covered one of his as Legolas moved to press his forehead to yours.
“I'm okay,” you whispered, breaking the silence between the two of you. Your thumb stroked the back of his hand absentmindedly, as you tilted your head up, meeting his lips with yours. It was one of desperation, longing and fear. A shuddered breath left you as the two of you broke apart.
“We’re okay.”
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tinfairies · 1 year
Note
Hey so we talked before about hair braiding being intimate to elves. Can we have headcanons of reader just coming up behind them and starts braiding it casually and Legolas and Thranduil reacting to it? I feel they’d be like “wow she’s so forward (〃 ̄ω ̄〃ゞ” 🤣
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Thranduil
Of course he knows that this human isn't aware of elvish culture and the significance of braiding.
That doesn't stop him from being a bit surprised, then smug about it.
He would use it as a way to subtly claim his human. Making sure the other elves see them braiding his hair.
He might tell them about what braiding means for elves, but that won't be until he has them firmly in his grasp.
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Legolas
Despite what his culture says about braiding, he loves having his hair played with.
He thinks it's cute that this human doesn't know, but is also glad for it. Legolas loves physical affection and he doesn't get much of it from his kind.
Will definitely show the braids off to other elves, boasting about his human's skill.
They will probably find out about what braids mean, but until then Legolas plans to soak up as much attention as he can.
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wordbunch · 10 months
Text
how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked
a/n: requested by the sweet @almost-gabrielle, i hope you enjoy it, and everyone else too - it's going to be GIGANTIC! 😍 be nice, cause I included some characters I haven't written much before (exciting!!!) and if you reblog with a comment or a nice tag... i'll love you forever! 💖 that means a lot, and i'm very grateful for all of it 🥰
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ARAGORN: he actually feels like that quite often, but he’s incredibly good at hiding it. Luckily, you’re an expert in reading him like an open book, but oftentimes you need to literally physically drag him away from whatever he is doing (and he might complain as you do so). Aragorn just enjoys sometimes being quiet with you, and it’s usually what he needs when his mind is racing, or his body is overexerted. Or both. You can just lie down together and run your fingers slowly through his hair, and that will help him forget his worries at least for a little while. Secretly he is an absolute sucker for sweet, romantic confessions of love and affection, and he will melt if you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.
LEGOLAS: something has to be extremely serious for him to feel that way, because his limits are very high; but in those moments he just wants to get away from everything as soon as possible and run to you, because with you the rest of the world just fades away. He enjoys an outing in nature, far away from real life, especially if the two of you find a nice lake or river to go for a swim in, and eventually act like a couple of children splashing and chasing each other. If that doesn’t help, he likes to sit in front of you and let you braid his hair as he talks about whatever is on his mind, and it also helps him physically relax to have you sitting behind and so close to him.
BOROMIR: this man will most likely push himself to his absolute limits, because he shoulders too much responsibility and feels pressured constantly to be on top of things. However, it’s easy to notice when he becomes a bit more irritable at one point, and then you know it’s time to talk him into taking at least a little break. That can be a slippery slope, because once he gets you alone for 5 minutes, it can very easily turn into 15 hours, and he would never finish anything. But on some days it’s just necessary - you sweet talk him into a cuddle session, during which he accidentally falls asleep with his head over your heart, or you make some tea with love as the special ingredient – and tell him that! He’s going to melt and finally, gratefully accept that his partner wants to look after him.
FARAMIR: much like his brother, he will probably suffer in silence, but you can’t miss his tired sighs every now and then, and the way he shuts his eyes and rubs his temples. If you hug him from behind, he will melt into your touch and lean onto you so much that you will almost topple over, but that will also make him admit to himself that he really needs a break. Run him a nice, hot bath complete with fragrant ingredients, and candles lit around it,  and he will be forever grateful. If you don’t join immediately, he will very sweetly ask you to come with him because 'oh the bath is so big and so lonely' without one more person in it. 
ÉOMER: this hardworking man is actually quite in touch with how he feels, both physically and emotionally, and he knows when things are becoming too much and he needs to step away for his own good. It is not unusual for him to go search for you and suggest that the two of you do something away from everyday life. Many times he doesn’t even suggest anything, he just follows behind you whatever you’re doing - taking a walk and admiring some trees in bloom? He’s right there holding your hand. Sitting on a balcony and reading? He will lay his head on your lap and ask you to read to him. And he is content just being present with you.
SAM: he gets both overworked and stressed quite often, poor thing. Make him something to eat and bring it outside while he’s working in the garden, and just have a spontaneous mini-picnic in the backyard. Although he’s very hardworking and persistent, over time he’s learned to accept your help and pampering, and he really really enjoys it too. If he is under mental stress, maybe you’ll need to push him a little bit to tell you what is on his mind, but once he does, he will gladly listen to your advice or any help you can give him. 
FRODO: baby boy is in his head a lot and oftentimes he will accidentally create things to worry about, and he will just zone out. if he has a faraway look in his eyes, while doing nothing in particular, you can accurately guess what is up. He likes to feel useful, and he will gratefully accept if you ask him to help you with whatever you’re doing - it gives him an excuse to be kind and helpful, but also spend time with his favorite person. Especially if you’re organizing/re-organizing something, he will enjoy doing it with you, or cooking - he might not be the best at it, but he delights in giving you a hand, and he likes to learn and improve new skills anyway. 
MERRY: he is actually much more of an overthinker than he seems to be on the outside, so stress sometimes just generates outta nowhere! Also he isn’t the biggest fan of physical labor out there, but he is a little bit of a show-off when it comes to you, and he will go above and beyond when helping you with something or doing something for you, until he can barely stand. Afterwards he will take pride in the fact that you had to force him to stop whatever he was doing, but he was simply being so very nice to his favorite person! Something he loves to do to unwind in those moments is just come up with random stories with you, the two of you taking turns making up characters and events. He is a little bit of a baby and he will just take your hand wordlessly and put it in his hair, because it feels nice when you run your fingers through it.
PIPPIN: he will either be stressing over very small, irrelevant things, or something absolutely terrible, no in-between. If it’s something small, he has no problem rambling about it to you, and that usually helps him sort things out; but if it’s something serious, he will grow quiet. The best thing you can do for him in those moments is distract him with a silly idea like “let’s go for a walk and find as many kinds of blue flowers as we can” or just straight up make him laugh - it’s the best medicine. He wouldn’t ask you directly to do it, but he’d love it if you could just hold him or cuddle him for a bit (he’s the little spoon of course).
BILBO: oh he will get worked up over a whole bunch of random things; and when he is working on something, he goes all in (and then has a random episode of doing absolutely nothing), so you need to be the one who grounds him in reality sometimes. Just don’t startle him when approaching him quietly. He is very responsive to your touch and he will just lean into you as soon as you’re near, almost forgetting about everything else. He adores it when you hold his face in your hands and he will look at you as if hypnotized while you comfortingly reassure him that everything will be alright and that he doesn’t have to do anything alone as long as you’re around.
FÍLI: he is very big on “strong protective independent dwarf” and sometimes he doesn’t fully allow himself to rest properly, or to process some things that are bothering him on the inside. However, at one point it will all have to culminate, and then his first instinct is to shut himself off. A guaranteed way to get through to him is to kiss him senselessly wherever you can reach and it makes him subconsciously relax almost immediately. He will kiss you back passionately which helps him eliminate some of the tension he’s feeling. Additionally, he will never ever say no to receiving a nice little massage from you. 
KÍLI: oh he is quite proud of himself if he ends up overworking himself for you, as if it gives him bonus partner points. You will gently scold him for pushing himself too far, and then he will pout, but you know he still doesn’t regret it. Then he himself will drag you away for a cuddle session - he chose that as his reward for being the very best partner in all of Middle-earth - but you don’t have to exclusively cuddle. He finds it very relaxing if you sing something quietly to him and he will look up at you with shining eyes.
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kiatheinsomniac · 11 months
Note
How about sleepy early morning sex with Thranduil?👁👁prettyprettyplease
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──── 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˊˎ -
☾ ⋆ ゚𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I feel like it's been forever since I last write for Thranduil 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Thranduil x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.3k ����𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, morning sex, riding, slight overstimulation, creampie.
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You wake to the sensation of kisses being peppered across your cheeks as morning light pours in through the window, bathing you in a pool of liquid gold. The warmth heats your skin with the aid of your lover's body which is half draped over yours . One of his arms crosses over your body palm pressed to the soft surface of the mattress in order to prop himself up as his pillowy lips plant kisses across your face in order to rouse you from sleep. 
You groan as you wake but the corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile when you realise that the first thing you feel this day is your husband’s affection. Your arms reach up to wind around his neck and thread your fingers through his gossamer hair, tugging just a little at the hair at the base of his head as you arch your back up to press your chest to his, delighting in the warm press of his skin upon yours. He begins to kiss you with more fervour now that you’re awake and you sigh against his lips as your mind begins to wake up. 
You let out a little giggle when you feel him press to your thigh and your eagerness only seems to spur him on as he reaches beneath the curve of your spine to pull you on top of him when he turns onto his back. His hair fans out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo of starlight and you smile sleepily down at him. 
“Good morning, meleth nîn~ (my love)” You drawl out with a little smile on your face as you lean down to pour kisses down his cheek and the slope of his jaw. His strong arms coil around your waist and you bask in the warmth of the sunlight pouring over your bed and heating your bodies as your skin presses to his. You allow yourself to simply rest atop him for a while as your nose nudges against his neck and you feel one of his hands lift up to sweep your hair from your shoulder.
“Indeed, a good morning it is…” He murmurs against the side of your head, pressing a kiss there. Beneath the sheets, your legs shift so that they bracket his hips and you slowly rise up as you set your palms down flat on his chest to support your balance. The sheet crumples and falls down your back, pooling around your hips and giving your husband quite the view considering the two of you are still bare from last night’s activities. 
You let out a low groan as you slowly, sensually roll your hips against him, feeling his dick slide through the folds of your dampening pussy. His hands slide down the curves of your waist in order to land upon your hips and hold firmly, softly squeezing you. No words need to be spoken to understand what the both of you want. 
Thranduil’s large hands roam up over your belly and to your chest, cupping and squeezing your soft breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples, watching how they harden in the golden rays of light falling over you, making you look almost as though you were glowing. You continue to rock your hips against him, his dick trapped between his abdomen and your leaking pussy. 
His head tips back as he sucks in a hiss through his teeth. “Come now, meleth nîn, tease me no longer.” He looks up at you through lidded eyes as one of his hands firmly grabs at the underside of your ass and helps to lift you up a little. His line of sight flickers down to his hardened cock and then back up to you, a silent command. You reach down and let out a soft moan when you glide his sensitive tip through your lips, taking a moment to feel the press and glide of it against your swollen clit before finally sinking down onto him. 
You take your time to sink down to him as you feel his large hands curl around the curve of your hips. At the stretch of him, you find your hands on his abdomen curling into tight fists, scratching slightly at his alabaster skin. He seems to grow impatient with you, or perhaps he just enjoys seeing your reactions, because his hold on your hips tightens and he bottoms out up into you. A keen is torn from your lips and for a moment, you feel as though you might collapse onto him. But he’s already setting a slow and steady pace, fucking up into you and it fills you with a craving for more. With your hands still pressed to his toned abdomen in order to assist in your balance, you begin to match his pace. 
It doesn’t take very long before the room is full of the squelches of your pussy being emptied and filled again and again and again, of your skin meeting his; they’re joined by his groans and your airy moans as you can nearly feel the air being punched from your lungs with just how deep he sinks into you each time. You can feel the trembling in your legs grow as all of your muscles seem to wind up tightly and sense in anticipation of your impending orgasm. 
Soon enough, your body seems to flush with heat and you push your hips down with all your weight, taking all of his cock inside your fluttering walls while he grinds into your sweet spot to draw out your pleasure even longer. 
You’re suddenly pushed onto your back in a tangle of limbs and you let out a noise like a wail when suddenly your sensitive, sticky walls are being pounded into as Thranduil chases his own release with your body, quickly pushing you towards the border of overstimulation. Your hands reach up to tangle in and tug at his gossamer hair and pull his body flush against yours. You feel his breath puff out against your neck just below your ear, sending shivers down your spine while your legs continue to quiver. You can hear all of his groans and grunts right by your ear as he praises you: ‘so tight’, ‘you always feel so good for me’, ‘one more, just give me one more when I fill you with my cum…’ 
It’s enough to quickly send your overly-sensitive body into another orgasm, your walls milking his cock as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his seed filling you up. 
The two of you hold each other in the silence that follows, interrupted only by your panted breaths and the faint wet noises of Thranduil continuing to grind into you, fucking his seed deeper into you, nudging against your cervix. 
“I don’t want to face the day just yet…” You let out in a sigh as you hold your husband a little tighter. All you truly wanted was to spend the day in bed with him but the two of you had a duty to your kingdom. 
“Neither do I, but it must be done…” Thranduil replies with a gentle kiss to your temple as he withdraws just enough to brush some damp hair away from your face. “But we don’t have to part until we leave our chambers.” He withdraws from you at last and you feel the sticky warmth of his cum leak from your hole. He looks down at the sight and you see a masculine sort of pride flash across his face for a moment. “So let me clean you up before I send you about your day.” You giggle when he suddenly hoists you up into a princess carry and begins to walk you towards your shared bathroom. 
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mints-bizarre-posts · 2 years
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Incorrect Quotes# #35
Legolas : Still short, I see
Y/n : Still pretending that you're not hopelessly in love with me, I see
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tarantado-si-viann · 11 months
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The Elves Reacting To Their S/O Wearing Their Clothes^^
Pronouns: You mostly so it's GN^^
A/n: So, hello! I'm new here on tumblr and I just thought that a nice, maybe warm, headcannon ( is that how you spell it? ) would do good for a first start.,. I'm sorry in advanced if there are spellings that are needed to correct! Also, I was lowbat at the moment so I could only do three huhu. But either way, please enjoy<3
P.S- if you liked this one, do me a favor and reblog, won't you?
LEGOLAS•°`~
• "And what's this I see?"
• Although Legolas didn't mind lending his clothes to other people, you may be the first to amuse him in this state.
• There you were dressed in his casual, green, elven shirt with his double sized elven pants on you.
• "Why, hello there! I don't believe we've met...?" he smirks, rubbing his nose as he circles around you in curiosity. You giggled at his pretending and you played along.
• "Y'know, I haven't seen such a handsome ellon like yourself," you state and punch his arm gently. "You are?"
• For a moment, Legolas doesn't know what to say. In fact, he paces around, brewing the correct words until they lingered on the edge of his tongue.
• "The love of your life."
• You were shocked with his sudden answer and felt a trickling heat that crept onto your face in a flustered blush. You stumbled back while hovering your right palm unto your dusted cheeks in embarassment. Legolas chuckled and pulled you close into his arms.
• "Oh, melleth nin, I adore you so. However, I was truly surprised to see you in my own garmets. What made you think of this adorable nonsense?"
• "I didn't think I'd come up to this as well. You know me, full of surprises. Wait... are you perhaps cross?"
• Legolas kissed your forehead and rubbed circles on your back.
• No, Legolas wasn't cross. He was delighted by this incident that he even offered you to borrow more of his clothes next time. Why would he be cross with the person he loved the most?
• "I am not cross, my love. I am very happy and this just gave me an idea! Why don't we do this together? You wear my clothes again and I'll wear yours. Are you up? We could go surprise everyone here in Mirkwood!"
• A fond smile painted on your lips as you nodded in agreement. "Sure thing."
THRANDUIL•°`~
• "Y/n!" A needy voice echoed down the halls calling your name.
• "Huh?" you flinch on your spot, hurriedly placing king Thranduil's belongings back to where they exactly were minutes ago.
• Although you may had messed up... too much. Why, you didn't even know where to begin.
• "Where do these hangers go? How about the robes, oh! And the brushes as well!" you thought while your hands quickly picked up everything you saw. Hot damn!
• The footsteps grew louder and louder until they finally stopped at Thranduil's room. He was annoyed, no joke.
• The door carefully opened, revealing you caught in the headlights.
• "Y—"
• What were those? WHAT WERE THOSE ON YOU? WAS THAT HIS RED ROBE AND RINGS ON YOUR FINGERS?
• Thranduil was speechless. Unlike his son, he wasn't too keen on lending his spare clothes. But this, this would have to been an exception.
• His irritation disappeared like a bubble in an instant. "Uh... I'm sorry..." you sighed and began to remove everything you had a hard time putting on. What was truly the waste was the small, leaf branch circlet thingy that took you hours to prepare.
• However, Thranduil stopped you, a shy look on his face.
• "N-no... please... ke-keep them... I mean, well, uh... I—"
• You laughed nervously. "Wait what?" He looked so sincere, so that had your mind twisted in confusion and at the same time, gave you a hard time comprehending what he just said, not to mention his stuttering.
• "No... keep them, please. As long as you're happy, my dear."
• You blinked a few times before a happy grin etched on your face. It was a sight to see for Thranduil.
• He walked closer to you and fixed the stray hairs on your face, tucking them under your ears. He hummed in satisfaction before placing a quick kiss on your lips. He then turned back to the door when he didn't notice you followed his heels. "What?" he asked you in the least of annoyance.
• You shook your head and wrapped your left arm around his right one. Giving in, he dare let you roam inside the halls with his vibes radiating off of you.
• But wait...
• Where's the circlet thing????
ELROND•°`~
A/n: oof, that's my father figure^^
" Dear, Y/n! Please slow down!" Lindir called from behind you, dragging his heavy clothes along as his panting grew louder and louder across the halls.
You didn't pay mind to him as you continued to jog towards the council meeting, to which you could already see outside the door.
Lindir, who was too tired to chase after you, leaped into the air, catching you off guard, and grasped the end of your long robes. His body hit hard on the floor which made you shriek in guilt.
"Oh, Lindir! Are you hurt? Where does it hurt??" you worriedly call as you helped him sit up. The ellon wore an irritated expression on his usual bright face which made chills slither down your spine. You knew this wasn't normal, and to Lindir… well…
ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH.
"Y/n! Calm down at once! My lord Elrond will not be pleased when he finds out that you have fitted once more into his fine robes! Not even the mere 'fun' I'd expect from someone as superior as you. Yet, you've decided to do it again, I mean, LOOK AT YOU!!"
This wasn't the kind of critique you had expected from your best friend. Nonetheless, it offended you when you realized you had offended him as well. This poor elf was now injured for your sake. He just didn't want you to be judged and judged so rudely. No, not like the last time you imitated Lord Elrond's attire at one feast. Damn elves.
"I'm sorry, mellon. I'd be careful next time. But… I don't want to take these off yet! Can't we make most of the hard work?" you pleaded, pulling the puppy eyes that seemed to get everyone and literally EVERYONE all of the time.
"Screw this. Be free, Y/n. You are big and old enough to make decisions of your own." he spits with concealed amusement in his tone. To this, you smile, help him stand and leave him alone in the hallways.
"Make Elrond love you hard!" you kept in mind.
The council consisted of several elves including the Sindarin, Legolas, and Elrond who was seated at the edge of the circle of chairs. Gandalf was on one side and a dwarf at the other edge. The rest was occupied by more elves, a hobbit, and two humans, leaving you a rather intentional saved spot beside the Lord of Imladris.
Everyone's eyes laid on you. You had imitated every part of Elrond— his hair, clothes, shoes, and a hand made ringlet that matched his own.
Elrond raised a brow at you, but you could tell that he was delighted with… you. "Ah, well someone's tardy today. Where have you been and what have you been up to?" he asks slyly with a smirk on his face.
"I certainly had brewed some sort of mess back in your chambers. Tut! Well, that's nothing to worry about now, meleth. We should begin this instance!" you smile cheekily, patting his arm, head resting on his shoulder. You had made yourself too comfortable before a meeting. How would you be able to focus now?
"We'll discuss this 'brewed mess' after today's meeting. For now, we will figure out ways to destroy the ring."
•°`~~~~~~♪
This was so dumb.
Feel free to request!
No tags at the moment^^
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itsonlydana · 3 months
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"I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You" | hobbit
➛ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑
➛ When you get stood up by your date all you want to do is morph with the couch, eat ice cream and watch Pride & Prejudice. It's a shame your roommate/best friend Thranduil doesn't agree with those plans.
➛ warnings/tags: modern!au, roommate!au, friends-to-lovers, chef!thranduil, swf, kissing
➛ words: 9,3k
➛ an: sooo let's ignore that i said i wasn't writing anymore <3 i'm still not taking request but i have a few fics that i'll post over the next few weeks!
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
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The sound of keys turning in the lock sounds through your apartment before the door opens and closes, making you wince.
The piano music playing through the expensive stereo system is loud enough that you could blame your reaction for not reacting to it. After a brief moment, a deep voice echoes from the hallway, marked by an incredulous "Huh?" and followed by an urgent "What?" accompanied by hurried footsteps.
"Hello?! What– what are you still doing here? You should be dressed up and in a cab by now!"
Your roommate and best friend Thranduil rushes into the living room, you can see his tall figure out of your peripheral vision.
Not that it would change where he stands.
You don't bother to turn around and continue to hide between the mountain of pillows and blankets you had accumulated on the couch, watching the movie playing on the big screen in front of you.
"Uhh– Mister Bingley arrived from the North," you comment on the happenings of the Bennets' house, a spoonful of ice cream held to your mouth.
Thranduil steps closer, dropping his coat and a bag on the wing chair next to the couch. "What–"
Instead of answering his question, you let the ice cream melt on your tongue, mumbling a "5000 a year?" with a mouth full of chocolate.
"Talk to me, woman!"
"He's single!" you sigh happily and throw a dramatic hand in the air.
Before you can lower it again, Thranduil snaps and snatches your hand, cold fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you towards him. Finally, you look up to him and are confronted with your very baffled-looking best friend.
"If you don't tell me why you aren't on the way to the fabulous third date with Marcus-"
"Jake."
Thranduil rolls his eyes at the interruption: "Fine, why aren't you on the third date with Jake right now and instead sulk on the couch watching Pride & Prejudice again? I thought we promised to take a break from watching it anyway."
You push out your lower lip, pouting. "I'm not sulking," you say in a tone so drawn out it completely defiles your statement. Thranduil doesn't say anything, he just lets his gaze slowly wander over the blankets you are buried under, to the half-eaten ice cream bucket to the TV where the Bennet sisters are currently caught eavesdropping on their parents' conversation. He doesn't need words to express himself, the judgment is silent in words but loud in the raise of his dark eyebrow.
"Fine," you groan, admitting defeat. "He canceled."
Thranduil's gaze softens as he sits down next to you on the edge of the sofa and he slowly drops your hand from his grip. "He canceled," he repeats, eyes falling back to the ice cream.
"He canceled," you confirm with a sigh "Just like I predicted- so I don't know why I even bothered to dress up. I even bought that stupid dress just because he wanted to go out to this new fancy Italian place. He canceled and because I waited 15 minutes for him to not show up, standing outside - in the cold might I add- I think I am allowed to sulk a little!"
In the end, you had talked yourself into quite a rage and fall back into the pillows, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "And no, you said I should take a break from watching that movie but since you are not my mother I am allowed to watch whatever!"
You pierce him with a glare but only for a moment before you deflate.
"Sorry for getting all bitchy there," you shuffle around, hands searching for the remote to stop the movie.
"It's alright," Thranduil says and cocks his head. "Now that you are done, am I allowed to go after him and nail his balls to the ground for standing you up?"
A smile tugs on your lips as you shake your head. "No, you are not. I'm sure he has his reasons." The reason wasn't spelled out in the message but after hopping around in the dating scene for a while now, you know what ´I'm sorry but I don't think we really fit. You are a great person though!´ means.
It was nothing new, though it hurt the same as it did the first time.
"Well, unless there was a sudden death in his family I don't see a reason why he couldn't have canceled before the date," he huffs "-you know like a normal person would do"
You shrug your shoulders. "It's done now. Maybe it just wasn't supposed to happen."
"No, it wasn't. Not with a guy like him," Thranduil shakes his head, the long braid of silver blonde hair getting even more disheveled by the movement. "You deserve a man that doesn't cancel, doesn't let you stand outside in the cold!"
"Yes," you sigh again, staring wistfully at the TV "my Mister Darcy."
"He was literally the reason why Elizabeth ran out into the rain and cold," Thranduil responds deadpanned and you throw a pillow in his direction which he elegantly catches.
"I will not stand for this Darcy-hate! Ugh, you are such a bad friend," you whine, "I got stood up and you are making fun of one of the two people who have never let me down.. one person now that you decided to be a meanie!" You once again pout.
This time it works, a little too well because suddenly Thranduil looks at you with that one look of him, the one that breaks through every defense you could build up. He looks at you like you just told him you were dying, all the compassion he can find in his otherwise cold heart spilling out of his cerulean eyes that wander over your face.
"You know you have every right to feel sad about the date not happening," he says carefully, tilting his head slightly in a way that oozes pity, "You were looking forward to it, you even bought a dress for it. Let me cheer you up, I can cook something for you and we can watch a movie later or we can go out and drink until I have to hold your hair in the bathrooms." He smiles softly, sincere and it makes you want to jump up from the couch and hide in your room.
You two didn't do sincere; you bantered, you made jokes on behalf of the other and you most certainly did not comfort each other after a failed date. Your friendship needed lightheartedness, it thrived on sarcasm and arguments about everything and anything that came to your minds.
But the offer is tempting, especially the cooking part. Thranduil is a chef, working in his own restaurant; 'The Green Leaf' and he did a damn good job at it. Most nights, like this one, he comes home and cooks for you because apparently, Goldfish crackers were not as good for your diet as one part of the name misled you to believe and even though you made fun of Thranduils diet as well, fully vegan and with a distaste for anything that made life worth living like chocolate ice cream, he knew exactly how to whip up a meal that had you salivating.
You stare him down, weighing your options. Option one was to remain on the couch where you would shovel the ice cream down until you would inevitably get sick, watching Pride & Prejudice and mourning the never-happening and probably very boring date you would’ve had.
Option two would entail a doubtlessly very delicious meal as well as the possibility of getting drunk as fuck in a bar.
The choice comes easy.
"Okay," you agree and raise a pointed finger at him as a victorious grin spreads on his lips "But-" you wiggle the finger "you will not do this out of pity because I do not need pity from a man!"
Thranduil's grin only seems to grow, lightening up his eyes "No of course not. No pity here. I promise!" He stands up from the couch in a hurry, grabbing the bag he had left on the chair. When you don't move except to reach for the remote again, he shakes his head. "Leave Mr. Darcy for another day, you have to change!"
"Change?" you ask bewildered, looking around the apartment. "I thought you were going to cook here and not at the restaurant. Why would I need to change now?"
Thranduil scoffs, turning his back to you to walk towards the kitchen, his voice growing louder as it's accompanied by the sound of the fridge opening.
"Because I know you spent the entire day planning your outfit. You said you bought a new dress and I will not cook you an entire meal for you to sit there in your sweatpants!" he calls out and you throw your head against the couch with a groan that has Thranduil leaning out of the kitchen door
"You want the food, you follow the chef's orders," he copies the raised finger in your direction "Don't be a brat, get your butt off the couch and into your room before I have to spank you! I'll call you when you can come out."
The threat is met with you sticking your tongue out and one second thinking you could defy the order but that is until he fakes a quick step back into the room and you peel the blankets away squeaking "I'm moving! I'm moving!" while stumbling through the living room. "Jeez"
Despite knowing he would never hurt you the thought of Thranduil spanking you has you blushing a ridiculous amount and you don't turn around so he doesn't see it.
"But just so you know, I will wear the dress but only so I don't have to squeeze myself into it after dinner when we go out!" you yell over your shoulder instead and you swear you hear him chuckle before you slip into your room and close the door behind you.
The sweatpants land on your bed, followed by the sweater you had put on after getting the text message from Jack. You remain in your underwear, which you hadn't been bothered to change and stare at yourself in the mirror of your wardrobe. You are confronted with the blush the spanking comment had left on your cheeks and down your neck, and you scowl at the image.
He is your best friend and roommate.
Get a grip!
The dress you had bought for the date still hangs on the wardrobe door, a short, and black number that wasn't something you would normally wear but when you had stalked the Instagram Account for the place you would’ve eaten at today, nothing already existent in your closet had seemed fitting.
Staring at it now you question the length as well as the relatively deep front and back. After all, this was a normal dinner with your best friend, right? Yes, you would maybe leave for a club or bar after this and you had worn all kinds of clothes for a night out with Thranduil in your company but this dress had been bought for the sole reasons of looking sexy and with the hopes of getting lucky.
You shake the thoughts away and grab the hanger with the dress on.
This was a normal dinner with your best friend and this was just a dress. He had seen you in other skimpy clothes and literally any other form of dressed as well as undressed on several accidental occasions. There is no need to think this over and fall into an endless spiral of doubts.
With a nod to yourself for this mature thinking, wow, aren't you a well-functioning grown-up? – you slip the garment over your head, pinching and twisting the fabric until it sits to your satisfaction.
The hem barely covers your thighs, just doing enough so it wouldn't flash your bottom at the slightest movement but showing enough leg for you to feel powerful. The same was with the deep neckline. Bending forward was not an option, though it would draw eyes on you, hopefully.
You put the discarded jewelry back on again, a subtle choker necklace and a pair of more flashy earrings with - sadly fake- diamonds dangling and catching the light in them. The makeup is done quickly as well, some touches of a brush on your jawline, some lovely shade of lipstick on your lips, the movement of routine flows through your body with no need to really think about it.
After spraying some of your favorite perfume on your neck and behind your ears you wait.
Sitting on the edge of your bed you wait and you definitely don't think back to Thranduil's statement. No. Never.
Maybe a little bit.
Because when he calls out for you a fifteen-minute heads-up, you feel the blush coming back and the suspicion confirms itself at the last look in the mirror. You raise your head, challenging the woman in the mirror with an arch of the eyebrow before walking out the door and into what could only be described as a fever dream.
The living room is dark, the moss green curtains pulled closed except for a small gap where the afternoon sun filters through into the flat. The dining room table is clear from all the jackets, mail and stuff that accumulates throughout the day and week that are usually thrown on it and instead, there are candles.
Candles!
Candles in silver candleholders, like actual burning candles. Next to the expensive-looking candleholders is a vase filled with lavender, full and flourished purple flowers that fill the room with a soft and dizzying smell.
Suddenly you are very glad you are not in your sweats anymore, there is a heat rising in your body and setting your cheeks aflame.
Fidgeting with your hands you quietly step forward into the room to the kitchen, your eyes flittering from the table to the cleaned-up sofas and then you can see Thranduil rushing from the counter to the stove.
His back is turned to you, offering you a view of broad shoulders and arms flexing beneath the white shirt he had changed into, and even worse, the tight black pants he now wears, showing off his long legs and- you look a little higher, checking him out and blushing like it's a guilty pleasure.
Of course, the pants would show off his perfect arse as well.
You shouldn't stare.
No matter how magnificent the sight is.
And oh, it surely is magnificent.
You snap back into reality, take a lavender-filled breath, and walk into the kitchen.
It's a beautiful kitchen, not one of the reasons you had first checked out the apartment but one that had tipped the arguments for it in the end. And you are glad it did, because when you had taken roommate applications Thranduil simply waltzed into it, nodded and offered you the first year of rent with 25% on top of it if you would remove the pop-into-the-microwave-Lasagna from the freezer and never dared to buy something like that again.
His brisk and bold and sometimes very harsh attitude would've maybe frightened any other person off but you had seen the money, the prospect of a cook as a roommate and a handsome one at that, and had held out the contract with one hand while the other threw out the lasagna.
And look where that had brought you.
The kitchen is now filled with more vegetables than you have ever seen in one place that isn't a market, there is nearly always a pot with something ready for you on the stove and the fondest memories you have with Thranduil are baking Christmas cookies, throwing flour into each others faces so that your hair had been colored white like Thranduils, or you learning how to cut vegetables under his stern gaze because "No, you can not cut a carrot the same way you cut the bell pepper!"
Now here he is again, creating a memory that will never let you go.
You let your eyes wander over the stove, where one pot is cooking rice, the other has some onions caramelizing with garlic from the smell of it and Thranduil has one pan in his hand, throwing some cut tofu into the air while he brushes some oil onto white dough stretched into hand-sized bits.
He is fully in his element, maneuvering what seems like a three-course meal without any help or breaking a sweat. Setting down the pan with the tofu (hadn't that been a fun journey of convincing until you had let him cook that without any protest?) he wipes his hand on the towel thrown over his shoulder and turns to the cutting board on the kitchen island. He has even more flowers on the island, pink gerberas and white orchids stand next to his array of mint, basil and rosemary.
You have no idea what has gotten into him, there have never been this many flowers in your apartment except for the few ones some of your dates had bought you and even then they landed in the trash a couple of days later.
Sometimes Thranduil had even said he had confused them for some swept-in leaves after you asked him where the last bouquet went.
The man was truly an enigma.
"Smells good in here," you say and lean over the stove.
Thranduil clicks his tongue against his teeth. With a soft growl, he presses out a "Move," not sounding really annoyed but disturbed by you being in his way and with a giggle you move away to grant him free access to the pots.
"What is on the menu today, Chef?" you ask as you hop onto the island. No matter how much space Thranduil needs for cooking, he always leaves that one spot on the corner free for you to sit on.
"Tofu Tikka Masala you noisy girl," Thranduil doesn't turn around and for a minute you want him to see you, see the dress you have put on but then your gaze falls onto his back again and you blush.
Thank god, he didn't turn to find you checking him out, again.
"Couldn't you have waited until I told you the food is ready? Now I have you sitting around here, distracting me, even though I don't have a lot of time to begin with."
You know he is lying. He had told you more than once that you were a pleasure in the kitchen. Not at the stove but looking pretty sitting on your spot on the island and not touching a thing.
"Well, we could have ordered some pizza," you tease him, and he grunts. When he still doesn't turn around, you lean forward, a smirk on your lips. "Or we could have gone out to 'Oakenshields' and-" The rest of the sentence dies on your lips as Thranduil's whole body snaps around and you nearly squeak when he leans into your space.
Nose against nose, he stares you down, cerulean eyes holding yours without any playfulness in them. "You are on very thin ice," he says quietly and while you know he still doesn't mean it like that, you squirm under the gaze and sudden rush of adrenalin that his proximity is causing your head to swim.
"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly, sounding way too excited for your own good, and you try kicking him against his chin but he catches your leg before it hits him, and as soon as his hands grab the bare skin he lets go again, falling back like it had shocked him physically.
Cerulean eyes drop, leaving your face that suddenly goes up in flames and for a second you can see his breath hitch, his chest moving at the sharp inhale of air as he takes you in. The moment builds up, the atmosphere between you changes and charges with something and for this short, stopped moment in time you allow yourself to think:
'What if?'
Then a timer goes off, distant at first but growing louder when Thranduil's face shifts back to the usual calm facade that reflects not a thing of what is going on in his head. He sniffs, hiding behind his dark eyebrows when he lowers his head and pats you gently on your thighs.
"I'll rather perish than go to 'Oakenshields'," he rasps, the raw edge in his voice the only remnant showing that he was affected by whatever that had been between you.
Then he turns around and pushes the tray with dough into the oven.
He covers it up professionally with the joke, of course, because Thranduil Oropherion could never have been seen with feelings that go deeper than what any human would consider barely amiable.
Yes, he is your best friend and he makes an effort around you to not be the coldhearted asshole he is too, for example, Thorin Oakenshield, owner of the restaurant slash bar that the last critic had called a "serious opponent in the gourmet chef world".
Thranduil took the news so well that he had a furious meltdown of cooking for nearly 20 hours to create a menu that he would serve the critic to show him Thorin was not to put anywhere near him on a culinary level before he threatened to buy the paper the man was working for and fire him.
He only calmed down when he found out the critic had persisted to order his own wine choices and not the ones Thranduil had carefully paired with each course so he had decided that the man had no taste whatsoever and he couldn't give a shit about what he had said.
You had seen the irony in his statement and the state of him, tired, overworked, still behaving like a diva and you had just stifled a laugh and helped him clean the mess in the kitchen.
It was one of those moments that shows you he cares more than he leads on, about life, about people, about what the world thought of him but when it comes to love the man is as warm as deep diving naked in the antarctic would be.
He can be nice, living with him was pleasant and it got a whole lot more comfortable when you got to know each other better.
He makes jokes, he shows you how much he appreciates you through his food, you two watch movies together, go out, get drunk, get home and giggle when one of you trips on the doormat and after a few months he even lets you fall asleep on him when you came home crying because a date didn't go well.
You had seen him drive home in a frenzy when his mother had called him about his younger brother breaking his leg climbing trees, and he had another friend, Bard, with whom he had a friendly get-together every now and again; it was only the romance part he never talks about, never shows, never ever makes room for.
While you go out for dates- he works.
When you meet someone at the club you dance, you make out, you go home with someone else- Thranduil just ignores any woman or man who talks to him.
Thranduil's love life (if existent) is a mystery to you and that makes it even more confusing why he had looked at you the way he did just now. Why would he suddenly decide to buy flowers, to cook you an entire meal because you had been stood up and play-dress up?
Your brain is steaming with these thoughts by the time you catch up with reality again, a snap of fingers in front of your face pulls you back and you blink, slightly dazed. Thranduil stands next to you, body facing the cutting board in front of him but you can see him sneaking a peek towards you out of the corner of his eyes.
"Do you know what you want to do after dinner yet?" he asks, slicing some cilantro and parsley.
His long fingers wrap around the shiny knife elegantly, drawing your gaze in and keeping it locked onto the movement of him cutting a lemon in half and drizzling a few drops of juice into the bowl with the herbs.
You try not to stare at the few drops wetting his palm.
"We should go out," you say, voice wavering in between a question and a hoarse croak. You swallow and move your head before your eyes follow a few seconds later, blinking up at Thranduil. "There is this new rooftop bar- they opened a few days ago and are still baiting people in with the two-for-one drink offer."
Thranduil smirks, leaning his hip against the counter and wiping his hand on the towel. "Ah, yes, because that went so well the last time?" he inquires, eyebrow raised teasingly.
"I couldn't possibly know what you are talking about, Thranduil," you purse your lips, suppressing the smile just barely that threatens to spill out at the memory of the last time you went to a new bar, trying out the "new and never been done before"-drinks the small hipster bar had promised you and that'd ended up being the worst cocktails you ever had.
"You still owe me for the trousers I had to get dry-cleaned because you missy-" he half-threateningly holds out his pointy finger again, "you missed the toilet"
"You could have shoved me in the right direction!"
"Ah yes, blame the man that saved you from throwing up all over your date," Thranduil turns away again, adding coconut milk and chopped tomatoes into the pot with the garlic and onions.
"Occupational hazard of being my friend," you say, giving him the brightest and most dearest smile when he holds out a spoon he'd dipped into the curry, before leaning in and wrapping your lips around it, letting the flavors swirl over your tongue.
Then a low hum leaves your throat, a sound not only shocking you but also Thranduil by the looks of it.
By the look of him.
There is a sudden pink covering his face, right around his nose, showing off his prominent cheekbones in a way that lifts the gorgeous feature even more. It is such an unusual sight, Thranduil, blushing, that you are taken aback by it and the spoon slips out of your lips, nearly falling when Thranduil pulls it out of your mouth, clearing his throat suspiciously loud and rough that it sounds physically hurtful.
He steps back, hiding behind a "Good then?" that you can only agree to with a low "Yes" because– firstly you could never correct him on the taste of something he prepares, he knows your taste well enough to always get the spices perfectly adjusted to your preferences, and secondly your head is blissfully empty for any other answer.
The moment passes, gets drowned out by another timer going off, followed by Thranduil shifting into chef-mode as you endearingly call the shift in his demeanor into a controlled acrobat when he starts handling all those pants and pots, stirring here, tasting there, focusing on everything all at once with a concentration that nothing could penetrate.
You sit back and watch him with a soft smile, observing him as he pulls the bread out of the oven, and exchanges the tray with two dark green bowls out of the cabinets to warm them up in the leftover heat.
He moves with a grace that you surely could not copy, all of his long limbs knowing exactly when to push the rice away from the burner, ducking away when the steam of pouring the hot water into the sink would have given your face a free steaming and all that while looking extremely put together with his tight pant- braid! and white shirt he didn't even bother protecting with an apron like he always forces you to wear.
It's frustrating and attractive how much confidence he oozes in the kitchen. You wonder how the cooks managed to do their job without dropping to the floor and praising him like the godly being he seems to be.
He looks perfectly put together when he finishes plating up and ushers you back into the living room, where you are forced to sit down while he disappears into the kitchen and brings the plates and bowls, shaking off your offer to help every time you can barely start the question.
So you do what is expected of you and you wait, brushing off some hair of your dress- long silver blond strands that you twirl around your finger.
The kitchen light gets dimmed and Thranduil comes into the living room one last time, holding a bottle of wine in his hands that by the looks of it, and by that you mean expensive as fuck, must have been nicked from the restaurant.
He fills your glass, then his own and finally sits down on the other side of the table.
Before you can say something, he raises his glass, "To this evening."
You smile and raise your glass to his, "To Marcus-" Thranduil's eyebrow twitches but you only smile wider "Thank god he canceled, I much rather spend this night with good food and good company"
A deep chuckle accompanies the soft 'clink' of your glasses. You take a first sip, holding Thranduil's gaze over the rim and over the flicking fire of the candles that illuminate his face just right. The wine is smooth, and refreshing as it wets your suddenly dry throat.
You use the plate in front of you as an opportunity to look away without it feeling like you are fleeing from his gaze, even if the thought is heavy in your stomach.
"Everything looks delicious, Thranduil," you say, gesturing to the bowls with the rice and tofu tikka masala, the dough that turned out to be naan that he placed on a wooden board between the flowers and the candle.
Thranduil gives you an appreciative nod, grabbing a naan and ripping it apart. "I tried to make something that comes close to your planned meal of chocolate ice cream," there is a mocking tone in his voice, a drawl on the words chocolate ice cream that is the perfect mix between friendly teasing and his true disgust towards it.
You let out a giggle, following his example of dipping the naan into the curry. "Oh, you are so gracious for trying but we both know that ice cream is high above this. It doesn't even fall in the same food category to be able to compare. If you truly look at it, it's its own category"
"Never mind everything I have said, I've forgotten that I'm talking to the person who thinks a cup of coffee counts as an entire meal. How very stupid of me"
"Not everyone can start their morning looking like you do and have the energy to go out for a run and then cook breakfast," you shoot back, the realization of the compliment slipping out pours onto you when you see Thranduil's lips curve into a very self-satisfactory grin.
"So you are awake to notice," he leans back in his chair, popping another piece of the bread into his mouth and looking so smug that the urge to kick him is rising in you again. "You simply choose to act like you are non-responsive until you've had your coffee."
Instead of kicking him, you roll your eyes and fill your spoon with rice.
Yes, that was one way to put it.
The other would be that you are simply too scared you would say something very stupid and inappropriate when you watched him do his yoga in nothing but very tight pants while you sat on the couch and pretended to stare into empty space that just coincidently was very close to his arching form in front of the window.
"Yes, I live by the rule that coffee comes before any man."
"How rude, to consider me 'any' man," you want to say something but Thranduil is quicker to continue, shutting you up with that gorgeous smile, "Am I not the only man in your life right now who you don't leave on read after a while?"
"That is a very low bar to measure yourself with"
"Darling, those men you date offer nothing but low standards."
You nearly choke on the wine you'd reached for when Thranduil says these words, this term of endearment he casually throws into the sentence, far too confident to be a slip of tongue, far too soft to be meant as mocking.
He said it as if it had never not been there, as if it wasn't completely out of character. For a moment you consider reaching over the table to poke him, to make sure he is really here and not some (very accurate, word class if it truly was one) robotic imitation.
There is a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that only seems to twinkle brighter the longer you stare at him and you wonder if he feels like he has won the discussion or if he can hear your brain mulling over the 'darling'.
Either way, he doesn't comment on it further, not on this nor the matter of your dating.
Why he thought to do so in the first place was a mystery to you, another piece of the puzzle that was this evening. He had made comments about the men you were seeing before, subtle phrases made after glancing over to your screen and the conversations you were having, never really cruel but you wouldn't say that they were particularly nice either.
Sometimes when you came home from a night out, you never brought them back to your flat, Thranduil would simply raise an eyebrow, not saying anything and so much at the same time.
You dig back into your food and like always conversation flows naturally between you. Pushing the teasing and the sizzling of something warm in your stomach that you had felt in the kitchen away into the back of your mind you let yourself enjoy the moment, the comfort of sitting at the table, a nice dinner in front of you and the home-y feeling that was in the air.
Curry and naan fill your stomach as the wine settles in your head and laughter slips your tongue.
Empty plates get pushed aside, forgotten on the side of the table until later, making room for you to prop up one elbow and let your cheek rest in the palm of your hand as Thranduil talks about his newest ideas for his restaurant.
The candles flicker, coloring both your faces golden as the last bit of sunlight sneaks away from the tiny crack in the curtains.
After another glass of wine and some well-coordinated cleaning up, a hand-in-hand process of taking the plates into the kitchen where you load the dishwasher and Thranduil wipes down the pots and pans in the sink, Thranduil throws you out of the kitchen again.
You hop into the bathroom, spend a few minutes staring at yourself in the mirror and try to think about the outcome of this evening.
A few hours ago you had been ready to go out with someone else but right now, in the dim light that is too bright to conceal how flushed your cheeks are and too dark to be the glimmering sparkle in your eyes, there is not one thought wasted on any other guy.
It's a complicated feeling, being confronted with the crush you'd harbored on Thranduil for a while now and while it wasn't always easy to keep it at bay, it had been nowhere near as hard to keep your focus on the big fat label of 'friendship' that was the only thing ever to be between you.
Yes, you know that that label should hamper the want.. the need to kiss the ever-living daylight out of Thranduil when he stared at you across those flickering candles but who wouldn't want to do that to an attractive man showering you with attention he had given you today?
Any normal-thinking person would.
At least that is what you tell yourself, that these feelings are normal because he is attractive and not just because you are attracted to him.
Back in the living room, you fall onto the sofa, legs stretched and feet propped onto the small table in front of the couch, and fight the urge to cuddle into the pillows more than necessary. Any deeper and you would for sure fall asleep and with how your evening is going, that that would be a shame was an understatement.
"Thranduil?" you call out when another minute passes and the noises of washing up had quietened down and Thranduil still wasn't out of the kitchen again.
"One moment," his deep voice responds with a subtle grunt, "You can begin your search for a bar and please don't let it be the rooftop bar you mentioned earlier."
On another day you would have chosen a bar or even a club to go to, especially after your stomach did that traitorous summersault at the sound of his voice again.
Tonight, with your cozy little apartment smelling like fresh flowers and curry and your mind clinging onto a possessive and dangerous thought of 'What if..'´ you suddenly can't think of anything worse than going out with Thranduil.
Going out would mean that Thranduil's attention wouldn't be on you alone anymore.
"Thranduil?" you call out again, "Let's stay in and watch a movie."
"What?" He pops his head out of the kitchen and you giggle at the sight of soap bubbles on his nose as he wipes his hand over his surprised face. He rolls his eyes, lifting one arm, - oh god his sleeves are rolled up, exposing far too much skin and veiny arms for you to think clear- and wipes the soap away. "I thought you wanted to go out."
"No," you draw the word out, still hung up on the smooth-looking skin, "We talked about going out or watching a movie," shuffling your shoulders into the pillows you smile at him "and I think we should watch a movie. It has been a while since we did that."
Thranduils face softens and he cocks his head, "It has," he agrees, the tenderness in his eyes reaching his voice.
With Thranduil running his restaurant and your work demanding more of you there hadn't been a lot of time you had sat down and watched something together recently.
You still had your mornings full of nursing coffee and yoga and the evenings where you weren't on a date or Thranduil away on business you had gone out together.
The summer with all its warm and sunny days and bars filled with cool drinks and long evenings fading into soft blue nights had been fun- that didn't mean you didn't miss cuddling into a blanket on the couch and watching a movie with Thranduil where you spend the entire time making small comments only to annoy him.
"How about you sort out what movie you want to see and I'll fetch us a snack?" he proposes and you let out a hum. Thranduil starts to turn away, then halters, "And if you could find anything other than 'Pride and Prejudice' I would be very grateful."
You did, in fact, not search further for the movie that you had started earlier.
Something that Thranduil comments with a loud "God, please do not do this to me," when he reenters the living room.
Stubbornly, you shake your head, your finger dancing over the buttons on the remote control. "You won't know if you like it or not if you never stay to watch it through! What if this is your movie? You say you don't have a favorite movie, Thranduil- this could be it!" Your arms flare in the air, pointing the remote to the screen while you try your best to sound as motivational as you can under the skeptical raise of his eyebrow - though the corner of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement however hard he wants to look self-assured in his completely (unreasonable) hate for the movie you consider one of the best of all time.
It's only when he saunters closer that you see what he holds in his hands and it momentarily lets you forget the never-ending argument.
"Ice cream!"
He laughs deep and rough, always a bit darker and richer when he has drunk wine, his voice and tone taking on the velvety edge that clouds your mind just as much as the alcohol.
"That was much more enthusiastic than the reaction to the soufflé I made you a while back. Should I take offense? Is this your revenge for my dislike of this Darcy that you so obsess about?"
Sticking out your tongue you grab one of the two buckets he holds out to you, as Thranduil takes his place on the couch; always on the longer side where he could stretch out his long legs. "Do not disrespect the man of my dreams or I will buy the mac-just-add-milk-cheese," you open the lid of the carton box, reaching over to the table to place it there.
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Mhm, I wonder if they still have the ones that only need water?"
"Please just press play you vicious woman," Thranduil pokes his finger into your side, admitting defeat with a desperate sigh and opens his own box of ice cream. When he sees you staring at it, he rolls his eyes. "What now? Can't a man enjoy something sweet once in a while?"
"A man yes," you snort "But you-" you poke him as well, "you're always on me when I buy ice cream and now you eat.. what is that..?"
Leaning into his space you ignore how Thranduil swats at you gently like he wants to get rid of a fly "It's chocolate, no way! My, my, should I call your health insurance and warn them that we will need a checkup? Maybe a brain-"
"Goodness gracious!" Thranduil groans, a sound that reverberates through you as you are still leaning into him, one hand propped next to his thigh, "Will you shut up or do I have to do that for you?"
That does shut you up instantly.
Not a sound leaves your mouth - left wide open as if he had simply pressed paused on your whole body - and you slowly turn your head away from him and back to the screen.
Now, while he did shock you enough with his words to let the teasing about the ice cream slide back down your very much dry throat, you can't help it to at least attempt to have the last word.
To calm your racing heart if not to for the sudden lack of thoughts, "Only if you swear to watch the whole movie without talking shit about Mister Darcy"
"Half of it and a little bit of shit-talking?"
"All of it and none of that!"
"Just let me make my comments and I will buy you your ice cream next time."
You squint your eyes, challenging him to stay with the offer and consider if it's worth it.
You could easily buy your own snacks, you did it every day you went grocery shopping anyway but there was a satisfying pleasure in knowing that the great Thranduil, hater of all sweets, would not only pick out ice cream for you, but pay for it as well.
Maybe he would even throw in something else as well, if you agreed to him and let him make his jokes.
In the end, you were simply grateful that he was here, sitting on the couch to watch a movie he knows means a lot to you, despite his dislike for it, and maybe that was enough..
"Deal!"
Finally, you eagerly press play, allowing the soft piano music to fill the room a second time this day.
While you can't help but smile, muttering the words into the spoons full of ice cream, Thranduil is less mean than you thought he would be. In the beginning, you could see him rolling his eyes whenever Mr. Darcy came on screen - something you commented with a sigh and a giggle - but like you always predicted, he soon relaxed into the cushions.
His face softens, just like his comments, mouth corners turning up as he watches the discussion between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth in the reading room.
In one particularly dramatic scene, you turn to Thranduil with wide eyes. "See? See? Mister Darcy is just misunderstood. He's so in love with Elizabeth, but he doesn't know how to express it properly."
Thranduil rolls his eyes playfully. "Oh, please. He just needs to learn how to be less insufferable."
You lean closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, you could learn a thing or two from Darcy, Thranduil."
He scoffs. "Me? Like what?"
Despite the tone he lifts one arm so that you can really lean into his side and you follow the invitation. Drawing your legs up, ignoring that the hem of your dress rides up your thigh, you scoot into Thranduil's space and rest your back against the length of his chest. His arm remains on the headrest of the couch.
You grin. "How to sweep a girl off her feet. Be a little less aloof and a little more... passionate–" your voice wanders into a wistful sigh, words getting lost as you watch with bated breath as Mister Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage.
There is a deep rumble behind you, a hot exhale of breath hitting the back of your head and while it seems like Thranduil wants to say something, he remains silent.
When you slightly turn your head, you see him watching the screen with a look in his eyes that you can't pin point.
"Why exactly does he flex his hand like that?" Thranduil quizzes with what sounds like genuine interest and you nearly bounce off the couch in excitement.
"Okay so there are multiple ways that this could be interpreted, some think it represents his armor cracking because he has been so buttoned-up, closed-off all the time and now his muscles betray the character he is putting on," you start, the words tumbling out of your mouth fast and rushed now that Thranduil shows his interest "It's like he is unraveling slowly but surely."
"It's also the first time they touch," you add.
Thranduil cocks his head, "It is?"
The grin on your face grows wider and you nod enthusiastically. "Yes! It's the first time they touch and it's pure skin to skin contact which was totally scandalous in their time, hence the gloves and long sleeves. Imagine going on through your life with these walls built around you as a way to protect your heart and then there is this infuriating woman."
"I can't imagine," Thranduil throws in yet it's so quietly that you nearly miss it.
Nearly.
Your tongue trips over a few words as you continue speaking, caught on what Thranduil had said under his breath as if it had been meant for only him, "-well and she.. she is rebellious. She does not follow the etiquette of wearing gloves, she speaks her mind freely and she contradicts everything that you have been taught," you count on your fingers "And she must have been the first woman in a long time that has touched him like that, even if it's as simple as using his help getting into the carriage"
"Mhm," Thranduil raises the arm that isn't behind you and taps his lips. "And you find that moment important for their building romance?"
"Without a doubt in my mind."
"Alright."
And with that, the topic is dropped and you both return to watch the movie.
That is until Thranduil's arm drops lower.
At first, you think it could have been unintentional, physics and gravity and all that stuff being the reason that his arm fell or slipped from the headrest on your shoulders.
It happens, maybe it had been tiresome to leave it up there, stretched away at such an angle. That is what you tell yourself in the few seconds where his arm simply.. stays still.. but then his arm bends at the elbow and the movement is so slow, so careful that your brain has enough time to forget the movie and focus on how delicately wary his hand comes into contact with the naked skin of your arm.
At first, it's just his fingertips.
Trembling ever so slightly they ghost over your biceps, giving the impression that he is still unsure on how to proceed and you wait, trying your hardest not to flex your arm and maybe scare him away and it's the hardest thing - this kind of touch was rare.
The waiting and effort are worth every second of agonizing stillness because following the tips is the hot palm of his hand, curving around your upper arm and holding you.
Your senses are aflame like the candles, lavender clouding your mind, cold ice cream melting on your tongue as the rough skin of his fingertips trails over your arm in the smallest circles.
Reflecting on the previous conversation there is one sentiment burning its way through your body, bringing with it all the moments of today, his hands on your leg in the kitchen, the storm of emotions crackling through his eyes like thunder, splitting his facade like lightening, the way he had reacted on spoonfeeding you the curry, the tension.
This has to mean something.
This has to be something.
You make up your mind to confront him about it even before he opens his mouth for the next commentary again.
"Darcy sure has a fantastic way to show his love," his tone was dripping with sarcasm.
"Nothing screams more 'I love you' than separating the sister of the woman you love from your best friend because you think the family is far too poor and lacks social etiquette," he scoffs, seemingly being his normal self and you would have believed him if his eyes didn't dart towards you, hinting at a touch of nervousness in those cerulean seas which lack the usual confidence.
"Maybe he is unsure how to tell her that he loves her," you say, holding his gaze.
"Well, there are other ways than this," Thranduil says, pointing toward the screen where Darcy is now standing painfully awkward in Charlotte's home that Elizabeth visits.
While you know that he is trying to follow Elizabeths advice of simple conversation, Thranduil doesnt seem to make that connection.
"Why aren't you out and about flirting with women?" It is a slip of the tongue, led on by the teasing you are so used to yet it comes out far too soft, far too wobbly. Quickly you add to the question with what is half cough, half laugh: "Huh, I mean if you are so sure that Darcy is doing something wrong, you should be picking up women, right?"
Thranduil raises an eyebrow in confusion. He opens his mouth, slightly tilting his head. "What? Why should I do that?"
Now you wonder if he was more stupid than you thought or if you heavily missed him having a girlfriend. Or not a girlfriend, or a partner. Were you that ignorant? Did you miss anything he told you about his sexuality?
"I–" you stutter "I didn't want to pry. I´m sorry. I.. I'm just wondering why you never go out on dates"
"Oh," there is a solemn look on his face "Ah, I had hoped this wouldn't come up for a while longer," He pauses, glancing at the TV and a feeble smile has the corner of his mouth twitching.
You don't have to follow his gaze to know that Mister Darcy has just followed Elizabeth into the rain; the only scene Thranduil has ever watched with you.
Maybe you had been ignorant before but the resigned tone in his voice is loud and clear. "We don't have to talk about it!" you rush in, "Really. No need to converse. Let's just watch the movie alright?" Without thinking about it, your hand moves to his chest, a reflex to gently pat him that dies when you feel the hard thumping of his heart through his shirt.
"I could never date someone, let alone think about a woman the way I think about you."
There it was again, the casualness that had tainted the 'Darling' from earlier. You would have laughed, hell, it is already bubbling up your throat when the heaviness of his confession crashes down on you and all that leaves you is a choked sound and a sudden lack of air has you gasping.
The combination of both hurts but not enough to cover the flutter in your stomach.
"What?" you ask not because you didn't understand him, you had heard every word, every syllable clear and distinct, but because you can't believe that you had heard it.
Your hand still rests atop his chest, feeling the heartbeat- hard and fast.
The same way he suddenly pressed his mouth on yours.
It happens quickly, leaving no time for you to react how you want to react and the only thing you can do is gasp.
The kiss ends as swiftly as it has started at the sound yet Thranduil doesnt withdraw completely. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath ghosting over your dry lips. There was a question in it, the same that is in his eyes when you gather the courage to look up.
Thranduil wasn't this hesitant, he was efficient, confident and so fucking sure of himself that his lack of those qualities right now spoke just as much as the kiss itself.
In the background, you hear rain but all you feel is your mind clearing up like the sky after the downpour.
Without further hesitation, you nod and Thranduil lunges forward again, this time with enough force that you lose your balance - or maybe it was the feel of his lips on yours that prevented you from catching yourself as you fall backward and crash into the pillows.
As far as first kisses go, most of the ones you had with guys were significantly worse. They were usually awkward, sometimes even uncomfortable because you weren't yet attuned to each other, but you weren't kissing a strange guy in a bar here.
You were kissing Thranduil.
You had been friends for years, you had seen each other in the most embarrassing situations, he had probably been confronted with your unclothed body more often than others, and if there was one thing he had noticed, it was what disappointed you about your dates.
And while he kissed you silly and stupid you were happy about exactly this perceptiveness.
His hair falls around you like a curtain, his chest presses against yours and you get so used to the weight of his body on yours like it has never been different.
And you hope it will never be any different.
"Shit," Thranduil groans against your lips, and you open your eyes, smiling up at him in a daze.
"What?"
"Now-" he kisses you again "Now that we got this out of the way.." Another kiss, a soft bite on your lips and you are so fucking glad to know that no woman has experienced this from him in a while. You are getting addicted to his kisses fast "..can you please stop dating these assholes and let me take you out for a real dinner?"
You nod hastily and lift your head to catch his mouth again. You only let him go for another second, when the perfect place pops into your mind - the last thought for the rest of the evening probably.
"Let's go to 'Oakenshields'"
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maximwtf · 1 year
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Hello person- I must say I love reading your lil fanfics always keeps me busy when It's in the middle of the night and I can't sleep lmao.
If I may, if you are still accepting requests- A Legolas x reader, where the reader isn't aware of a custom that elves have about braiding their hair and basically just accidentally confesses to him when they get bored one day and just start braiding his hair and only finds out when the Fellowship congratulates them for confessing or something along those lines hehehe
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Legolas x reader
words: 1930
google docs pages: 3
warnings: none? fluff :D 
opening: One day while you’re bored, you begin to braid Legolas’ hair, unaware of its meaning to the elves. It’s only later, when you find out the message behind it. 
AN// Thank you so much for this request, love the idea! (this also gives me a reason to not write the other ideas I've been putting off xd) idk if this is a little ooc, but I hope it’s okay^^ It’s also lovely to hear that you enjoy my work!^^ Reader can be any gender !
         “A time for congratulations?”
It hadn’t been long since you had joined the fellowship from Rivendell, like most of the others had too. The only one you knew better than the others was Legolas. Him you had met more than a few times in the past, mostly as an accident, but you did genuinely enjoy his company. You’d never admit it to anyone in the group, but you were happy that he had been the one from Mirkwood to join. You heard it had been his father who had suggested befriending Aragorn to him, and it was when Legolas had begun to look for Aragorn that he had met you. Aragorn you had only met a few times, and back then only knew him as “strider” like most. The others you had only met when the Fellowship had been formed, but all of them had seemed okay. 
Now, trailing behind Legolas, you examined your surroundings silently. Old trees with roots going all across the forest blocked the view on your right and on the left only a few trees were growing, enjoying the sun they were able to get. The trees on the left casted dark shadows on the almost non existent road you were walking on. Gandalf had seemed to be very certain that there was a trail going here, but you weren’t so sure. But since no one else had doubted him, you had decided to just follow along. At least you weren’t going to get lost alone.
As your gaze moved from left to right, amazed by the sturdy old trees, being able to stand for such a long time, you noticed Legolas turning to look at you for a moment. It was only for a split second, but it made you humm to yourself. Perhaps he was happy to see you too. It was rarely that you could spend more time with him, mostly just short bump ins every now and then. He was a prince, and probably had a lot to do.
The group seemed to have noticed the darkened shadows of the trees, and decided to set camp for the night. The sun seemed to be setting, making the casted shadows even darker before the sky would begin to follow along. Spreading the darkness of the upcoming night all over.
You had agreed to take the first watch shift of the night before anyone could steal it from you. You’d rather stay up late and go to sleep than wake up in the middle of the night to take your turn. Boromir and Gimi seemed to have collected some bigger pieces of wood and some sticks that Aragorn had been able to set on fire to create a campfire. Legolas, you and the hobbits helped to bring some rocks and logs around the fire so everyone could sit. Sam had requested if he could make something to eat, and surprisingly enough no one had disagreed. The start of the night seemed to be going smoothly. 
As Sam had begun to cook some kind of a soup or a stew, everyone else had spread around the fire. Some were fixing up their weapons and others just talking. You swore you had seen Merry and Pippin bothering Boromir too. You on the other hand had found a spot close to the fire. Most of the ‘seats’ had been taken, but that just allowed you to sit closer to the warming flames of the campfire. Legolas had seated himself near you. You could hear him lowering his bow and the quiver against the log he was sitting on. Other than that and the quiet talking, the only noise you could hear was the mixing of the soup Sam was making. Sometimes the ladle would hit the edges of the saucepan, causing a small noise to break the silent gaps.The moon was only a half, but since there weren't a lot of clouds in the sky, it was able to shine its light all over the forest. At times it felt like time had stopped after the sun had started to go down, and was still shining some light over the fellowship. It was only the cold night air that let you know it indeed was almost time to go and rest. 
You shivered under your clothes, pulling the cloak closer to you, making sure it was properly over your shoulders. Something rustled behind you, and soon another cape was placed over you. A small ‘huh?’ left your mouth as you turned to look who it was. Legolas clipped the front clip shut so the cloack wouldn’t fall off of you. “You seemed cold.” He said, smiling slightly as he sat back down. “I- Thank you.” You said, still confused by the gesture. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” You then asked, feeling bad if he’d have to freeze because of you. The elf laughed lightly at your question and shook his head. “Elves can tolerate the cold better than humans, therefore you should keep it.” He explained to you. 
You had never really thought of how different you were to him. Sure, you were friends with him, but you had no idea that the elves could tolerate the cold better than humans. Maybe you’d find out something else about him as the fellowship continued. This had to only one from many things that made elves so different from you. 
You noticed that the faint light of the moon made his almost white hair look magical. The usually well braided strands of hair had opened up from the fighting the group had gone through with a few orcs earlier that day. You had noticed that the prince usually kept his hair well done, but maybe he hadn’t noticed yet. 
Not being sure if you’d embarrass him if you pointed it out, you got up and sat next to him. You weren’t an elf but you had gotten your hair done before and over the years learned how to braid hair in different styles. So without another word, you took a hold of one of the half opened braids and began to undo it completely. Legolas seemed to have tensed up for a moment and you felt his eyes on you, but to your surprise he soon turned his gaze away and let you continue. 
You braided the first strand of hair, pulling it behind his ear the way you’d seen him usually have them. After starting to fix the other one, you felt another pair of eyes on the two of you. With a quick look you found out who it was. Aragorn was sitting on the other side of the campfire with an amused look on his face. Not understanding what he had found amusing, you kept on working on Legolas’ hair. The prince’s hair was smooth and easy to work with. Humming to yourself, “you have lovely hair.” You said quietly, seeing the man shiver, but saying nothing about it. You were enjoying the moment, getting to feel closer to your friend for once. The warmth of Legolas’ cloak and the fire kept you warm and protected from the gusts of wind. The smell of the soup Sam had made was good, and it felt great to know you were going to be eating something that not only would taste good but also would be warm. You felt like you had only been eating bread and apples for such a long time. 
You finished the other braid and mixed it in with the unbraided parts of his hair. “Both are fixed again.” You hummed mostly to yourself but out loud so Legolas could hear it too. You felt his eyes on you for a moment before they moved to Sam, when he handed the both of you a bowl with some steaming soup in it. You thanked the hobbit with a nod, and began to eat. From the corner of your eye, you caught Aragorn telling Gimli something and them both silently laughing. Trying not to pay no mind to the conversation, you couldn't help but to wonder if it was about what Aragorn had found so amusing earlier?
After that night, many more passed. Some worse and some just as good, but what kept everyone going was the mission and the people in the fellowship. Legolas never mentioned anything about you braiding his hair, and he even let you do it once or twice after. But after every time, it felt like more eyes were on the two of you. It was first only Aragorn, then Gimli joined and soon even Gandalf was in on it. At times it felt like even Legolas knew what was going on. 
After some time of you being oblivious of what had been going on, you decided to bring it up. You had so many theories of what they could have been up to, that you just had to find out. Making your way from the back of the group to where Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were, you prepared yourself. “What are you hiding from me?” This got the attention of the three, all of them slowing down their walking speed a little. “Whatever do you mean?” Legolas asked, giving Aragorn a quick look, almost as if he was trying to tell the man something. “You all clearly have been sharing a rumor or something along the lines of that.” You replied, but didn’t get an answer from anyone for a moment. “You should tell them.” Gandalf’s voice rang from the front of the group, clearly also aware of what you were talking about. “It isn’t a rumor per say.” Gimli started, looking at Aragorn for a moment, hoping he’d take it from there. You saw Legolas look away, not taking part in the conversation. “We wished to congratulate you on confessing to Legolas.” Your eyes widened for a moment, and without even wanting to, a “what?” Left your mouth. “They weren’t aware, Aragorn.” Legolas finally joined in, looking at his friend. “What is this all about?” You tilted your head. “When you braid his hair. See, to elves it has a significant meaning behind it.” Aragorn tried to explain. Your hand traveled over your mouth, clearly shocked. “And you didn't think to tell me?” You blushed slightly, smacking Legolas’ arm lightly. He stopped, taking a light hold of your hand to pause you as well. “I wanted to explain it to you but I found that..” He tried to look for words for a moment, and you let him. “I found that I cared for you that way, and I wasn’t certain if you had found the meaning yourself...” His eyes met yours again, after traveling for a moment. You stayed silent, not even noticing that the rest of the fellowship had also stopped near the two of you. “But I am aware that I should have told-” Legolas broke the silence but you stopped him before he could finish. “It’s all okay. I feel similar.” You admitted, looking away for a second. “Is this a better time for congratulations?” Gimli’s voice asked from behind you as Aragorn walked closer as well. “Yes, yes it is.” You smiled and turned back to Legolas. His eyes looked at you with admiration in them. “Gi Melin.” (I love you)
2K notes · View notes
theglassofmiddleearth · 10 months
Text
Imagine you enter the woods of Lothlorien with the Fellowship.
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Gimli: Stay close, young hobbits! They say a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-Witch.
Y/N: *Smirks* Of terrible power?
Gimli: Tis no joke m'lady. All who look upon her fall under her spell.
Galadriel: *Telepathically* Frodo..
Gimli: And are never seen again.
Y/N: Do not fear little ones. We will keep you from harm.
Samwise: We should be saying that to you Y/N.
Galadriel: You're coming to us, is as the footsteps of doom.
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Galadriel: *Telepathically* You bring great evil here. Ring bearer.
Sam: Mr Frodo?
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Gimli: Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox.
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The elves of the Lothlórien woods appears with bows.
Y/N: *Unsurprised* Is that right?
Haldir: The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark.
Y/N: *Stifles a chuckle*
They walk to Lórien
Haldir: *In elvish* Well met, Legolas son of Thranduil.
Legolas: Our Fellowship stands in your debt. Haldir of Lórien.
Y/N: Yep, I love it when he speaks elvish. *She smiles down at the hobbits.*
Haldir: Ah, Aragorn of the Dúnedain. You are known to us.
Aragorn: Haldir..
Haldir: Pethryn.
Y/N: *Nods silently.*
Gimli: So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves. Speak words we can all understand.
Y/N: *Grins* They are greeting eachother. Be patient my friend.
Haldir: *In the common tongue* We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the Dark Days.
Gimli: And you know what this Dwarf says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai duru- (I spit upon your gra-)
Y/N: *Stops Gimli with her hand and gentle taps his shoulder.* Now now Gimli.
Aragorn: That was not so courteous.
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Haldir: *Turns to look at Frodo.* You bring great evil with you. You can go no further.
Aragorn: *In elvish* We need your protection, the road is fell. Please we need your support.
Legolas: Y/N, you understand Sindarin?
Y/N: What, me solving the riddle wasn't enough for you? *She grins*
Aragorn: *In Elvish* I wish we may come with you. The road is very dangerous Haldir.
Boromir: Gandalf's death was not in vain. Nor would he have you give up hope. You carry a heavy burden Frodo. Don't carry the weight of the dead.
Haldir: You will follow me.
They travel to Caras Galadhon.
Haldir: Caras Galadhon.
Y/N: The heart of Elvendom on earth.
Haldir: Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light.
Y/N: *Smirks to Aragorn.* I get to see the pretty elves again.
Aragorn: *Rolls his eyes*
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Legolas: *Mutters* Am I not a pretty elf?
Y/N: *Laughs* You are the prettiest of all elves Miluir ("Lovely one" in Sindarin)
Legolas: *Gapes in surprise.*
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Y/N: *Chuckles and walks away.*
Legolas: Wait! What did you just call me? Say it again!
1K notes · View notes
thewulf · 3 months
Text
Little One || Aragorn
Summary: Request -I had an Aragorn request that I wanted to send you; if it’s something you’d be interested in writing I know it’ll be perfect (but if it doesn’t strike your fancy I completely understand)!! After reading your fic with the orc attack I was thinking about how Aragorn would respond to reader being injured defending the hobbits... Read Rest Here
A/N: Thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) Kinda angsty but hella fluffy as always :)
Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.1k +
TW: orcs, talks of blood, arrows, getting shot, yelling, angsty
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You and Strider had been Rangers together for the better part of fifty years now. The two of you quickly found solace in the other. The two of you just seemed to compliment the other. What he lacked you picked up for him and vice versa. It wasn’t often he could find somebody who just understood him. So, he decided to keep you close but always safe.
He did what he wanted after all. He had a high enough ranking quickly. You were assigned nearly every patrol, raid, quest whatever the hell it was he did it with you. And you learned quicker than you had ever thought even possible with his aid. He wasn’t brutal on you, but he was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. He wanted you alive, so he trained you to stay that way. He had to be a little mean. A little too much sometime. For that was the real world. You couldn’t go out in the world as freely as one once could.
So, when Gandalf proposed the deal of getting the Hobbits from Bree to Rivendell he had agreed on the condition you could come with them. He wasn’t willing to leave you in some random village town in Eriador. No, he would never do that. Gandalf had agreed without a second thought thinking it was a good idea to have two Rangers instead of one.
You had decided fairly quickly that the Nazgûl was on your list of least favorite things in middle-earth you’d had the pleasure of coming across. You could deal with spiders and orcs buts these creatures were eerily different. Ice cold and terrifying, soul sucking. But you needed to remain stoic in the face of it all to help the Hobbits. The poor things were shaking they were so terrified. You’d tried stories of tales far and wide to shake their minds of their troubles, but it seemed no use as they only looked to the two of you in terror around every twist and turn.
When you stopped for the night to camp you’d noticed that Strider had led you deep into a dense forest. You’d never been the best at tracking, so you often led it to him. You really should’ve paid better attention before as you were often so reliant on his talents.
“I am off to gather a few plants for some tea. I will be back in an hour. Y/N, I trust they shall remain safe in your care?” He asked and you nodded without so much as a second thought.
“Of course.” You smiled to him, “Off you go. I know how mean you get without your tea.” That earned a hearty round of laughs from the Hobbit’s as they laid out their bedrolls for the night. It was nice to hear such a pleasant sound instead of hearing the screeching in the distance.
“I will remember that.” He glared at you with humor in his eyes before ducking into the night.
You turned back to the Hobbit’s with a stupid smile on your face not quite realizing how much you were giving way of your likeness towards the man, “Off to bed we go.” You shooed the silly little smirks right off their faces.
They all nodded quickly falling asleep without so much as a second thought. You were mighty jealous at the way they just did that. It took you far too long to fall asleep these days. Worry kept you up more than you liked to admit.
Thank whatever was out there for that worry that wouldn’t let you sleep as you heard the distant voices and branches breaking far off in the distance. Orcs. Had to be, they were so noisy. Your heartrate spiked as you heard them before you spotted them in the dark night. How in the hell had anything found you all the way out here?
“Up! Up!” You whisper shouted before shaking each of the Hobbits awake, “Abandon the camp we must go. Run” You grabbed for your sword and spare bow and arrow before ushering the small Hobbit’s further into the forest.
They ran ahead confused and disoriented having just fallen into a deep sleep but trusting you nonetheless. You knew you had made too much noise but did not quite realize how much the smaller ones were making as they ran.
You paused for a brief moment knowing your longer strides could catch up. You took a look behind you to see how in danger you truly were. The orcs hadn’t spotted your little group quite yet except one with keen eyes. Adrenaline shot through you as you saw the orcs arrow trained right at the back of Frodo’s head as he ran forward. He’d be dead instantly if the orc shot the arrow before you could stop it.
Panic shot through you as you ran ahead beside him pushing him to the ground with more force than you’d truly meant. You’d thought you were in the clear before the searing pain of being shot by an orc arrow throbbed through your shoulder blade sending you to the ground before you could think. Frodo rolled beside you which sprung Merry, Pippin and Sam into action as they pulled the two of you behind the thick trees of the dense forest. Fortunately for you it was mid-summer, and the forest was coated in dense foliage making it that much harder to find you and the Hobbits hiding in the trees.
Frodo looked more confused than upset before he saw the arrow protruding from your body. He’d understood instantly, “You have been hit miss Y/N!” Merry’s concerned voice only rose a few octaves as he saw the large arrow sticking right outside your shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked but you tried your best to bite back the tears as they were so unseasoned to such horrors in the world.
You looked down wincing at the arrow surely coated in poison. Thankfully you were only a few days out from Rivendell. You’d be fine… Strider not so much. Shuddering at the thought of the man who would be so mad you got hurt, you turned to the small Hobbit’s sitting in fear beside you.
Ignoring the arrow sticking out from your shoulder you sat up from the fall you took, “Listen, for there is not much time before they try and find us. Frodo and Sam run. Go find Strider. He will help end this swiftly.” You nodded watching them run quickly off into the forest. You’d sent Frodo off as he needed to be as far from the attacks as possible.
Wincing you turned yourself as best as you could towards Merry and Pippin, “Now, I need you two to be brave. You must snap this arrow as close to the wound as you can. I will fight these orcs off, but I cannot do that with this sticking out.” You huffed eyeing the rather large wooden arrow searing its mark in your shoulder blade.
Merry only gave you wide eyes as Pippin shook his head answering your request, “I cannot do that.”
“Not can I!” Merry agreed.
You looked behind you a little panicked seeing the orcs moving in closer. Far too close for your comfort. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to them, “It does not matter any longer. Time is of the essence now. You must or we all die.” You glared at the two of them letting them both know quite how serious this was.
“Aye, turn away.” Merry stood with shaking hands grabbing at the arrow earning a hiss from your mouth. Pippin took his hands in his helping him get the leverage he needed to break the thick wood.
“All right.” You turned your head away clutching your hands into the earth trying to ground yourself. You had to fight back everything that was telling you to pass out as the arrow snapped in two under the hands of the much smaller Hobbits. A quiet whimper left your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay conscious. The orcs were close. You had to do something.
“Miss Y/N” Merry sounded concerned as he saw your face pale out and the orcs move closer, “Please be okay.”
You nodded blinking back the wave of nausea taking over your usually so agile self. This did not feel like your standard orc poison. You knew what that felt like and this was not it. This was moving faster than anything you’d been hit by them with, “I am fine mister Pippin.” You breathed trying to blink back the unshed tears. Pain only reminded you that you were alive. With another small groan you stood from the ground trying your hardest to fight the searing fire in your shoulder, “Stay quiet and hidden. It is best to attack them by surprise. Strider will be back soon. Let us try and wait this out as long as possible.” You whispered grabbing your sword from its sheath at your side.
You waited in silence as the first of the few crept into your field of vision. They must have been lost. No way a pack of orcs were this dumb. Or they were on a special mission. But you could wait no longer as they were likely to hear your breath or any sort of movement for he was a mere step away from you now.
Quickly, you sliced off its head without much of a sound. The loudness of the animals in the night covered up for its lifeless body hitting the ground giving you a second to recuperate and fight back the overwhelming feeling of pain now making its way down your arm.
When you killed the second and third the attention was finally on you. You were not able to be as graceful and let out a cry of pain as you had to use your bum arm to defend yourself. Darting behind a tree you narrowly avoided another arrow coming right for your head this time. But you didn’t have time to panic as the man you had been waiting for finally made his grand entrance. Just as you suspected it was over before it really begun. You were a fine Ranger. But Strider was an expert one.
Leaning back on the tree you let out the breath you were holding in. Never had you been so close to losing someone so quickly on a quest. Never had you been so close to being eliminated. You were usually so much better than this. Strider was getting in your head, and you were losing focus. A Ranger losing focus! That was unheard of. But Strider was your exception it seemed.
“You arrogant fool!” Strider yelled right at you as he came storming over to where you were leaning on the tree. He hadn’t seen the broken arrow in your shoulder nor the way you were holding your arm upright. He didn’t notice the sweat the coated your face or the distant gaze in your eyes. He was mad and he wanted to take it out on someone. That someone happened to be you.
You let out a cry in pain as he grabbed for the arm that you were holding gingerly. Even the smallest movement made it feel like your arm was getting ripped right apart. You had forgotten how painful poison was for it had been nearly fifty years since you’d been struck. The bastards made it as fast and as painful as possible. And whatever this stuff was seemed worse than before.
He moved his hand away from your arm after hearing your strangled cry. Pushing you back up against the tree, avoiding your injury, he felt the sticky liquid coating your outer garments. Blood. Of course, he knew what it was. He had only begun to panic as he saw the deliriousness in your gaze. You were hurt and badly at that. He was not used to this.
Frodo jumped in between the two of you, pushing Strider away just slightly, “She saved my life master Strider! Please have no anger towards her.”
His heart raced as he ordered the Hobbits to light a fire nodding at Frodo that he was done lashing out at you. He knew you needed a helping hand. Not one to hurt you while you were down. Gently, he pushed you down to the ground, “Sit down, nigol.” He’d all but ordered as he helped the Hobbit’s start a small fire. He couldn’t see your wound and you weren’t so forthcoming with information. That and he wanted to see it for himself.
A small smile came to your lips remembering the old nickname he’d given you, “Nigol… you have not called me that in quite some time Strider.”
Brushing your comment aside he asked you, “What happened?” As he sat down next to you waiting for the fire to glow so he could inspect your wound.
You turned towards him holding your eyebrows close together trying your best to bite back the pain, “Orcs happened is all. Caught a poisoned arrow to the shoulder.” Letting out a strangled sigh you sat further back against the tree.
“How did you get hit?” He clarified with more patience in his voice than you were used to. Maybe you looked worse than you felt because he never, ever cut you a break. And you appreciated him for that as you were still alive and usually avoidant of such injuries.
“Ugly bastard was aiming right at Frodo’s small little Hobbit head.” You frowned realizing if you hadn’t noticed Frodo would be sure as dead. You caught Strider’s smile at your crass language for he knew he would never grow tired of your fowl tongue. He loved it about you, “Had to push him out of the way and he nicked me instead.”
“I heard that miss Y/N!” Frodo yelled back at the two of you shaking his head at you, “Elves are not the only creatures with good hearing!” You only smiled as you watched them feed the small fire with more twigs and sticks. It surprised you that Strider ordered a fire for you’d just been ambushed. Who knew what else lurked beyond the trees that kept you hidden.
You let out a strangled laugh feeling the effects of the poison inch its way through your system. You watched as Strider looked at you with concern. It wasn’t often you were the one on the receiving end to such a look. You’d been under his wing for a better part of half a century. You’d gotten really excellent at not getting hurt. It must have been jarring to see you fighting the pain back with such a force. He’d never admit how much he had grown to love you. He didn’t like to see you in pain. Not a bit.
He sighed seeing the fleshy wound, “You must not be so careless next. I have trained you better than that.” He sighed inspecting the wound closely, “I must remove the arrow.” He spoke slowly feeling his heart drop at your startled expression.
You shook your head with a vengeance for you did not like that statement “We are but a few days from Rivendell. Surely they will have healers who can do that properly.”
He bit back the frown as he looked at your arm, “You will not have a few days if I do not get this out.” It wasn’t ominous but simply the truth.
“Is it not an Orc arrow?” You looked down knowing what his answer was going to be but trying to ignore it in your head was proving to be a challenge.
He gave you a solemn nod, “Aye, but it does not appear to be orc poison.”
All you could muster was a simple, “Oh.” Not thinking that was a possibility. You’d still concluded it was a different form of Orc poison. What could they possibly be using?
“It appears to be something much darker.” His frown only deepened as he was studying your wound. He had ripped your shirt where you had been hit to examine it closer. It was turning black far too fast to be the standard orc poison they’d become accustomed to.
You shuddered knowing the pain would be intolerable. You already seemed to be teetering on the precipice between the living world and the unconscious world, “Do your worst then.” You spoke quickly turning away and grabbing at a stick on the ground. When you tuned back he was just looking at you with such a sadness you couldn’t help but to ask, “What?”
He shook his head breaking the stare he had on you, “Nothing. Bite the stick. Don’t fight me. You know the rules.”. It had been a long time since you were at the mercy of his hands. You were but a young Ranger the last time you’d been caught in such a dreadful position. Back then you had medicine to at least dull the pain. This was going to be hell you thought as you placed the soggy stick in your mouth. Something to bite into, crucial to keep you from yelling too loud.
But you didn’t need to worry about that issue too much as darkness took over only a moment after he begun to tug on the broken arrow embedded in your shoulder. Of course, you didn’t catch the concern or the panic that overtook him when he saw you collapse into unconsciousness so easily. He didn’t waste a second longer after the arrow was removed from your shoulder to pick you up and carry you in his arms telling the Hobbits that they had to get a move on for your sake. With hushed complaints the group was off to Rivendell in the dead of night.
It must’ve been the pain overtaking the adrenaline that had subsided that made you fade out of unconsciousness. As your body stirred awake the sun rose in the sky before you. Strider only cradled you closer to his chest when he felt you squirming beneath him. A rather large sigh of relief escaped him as he looked down seeing you slowly blink your eyes back into reality.
“Did you enjoy your rest then?” Strider smiled most genuinely down to you for as much as he loved teasing you it sure made him happy to see you awake once more.
You cracked your own smile at his sarcastic words, “It was nice, thank you for inquiring.” You hummed squirming once more in his embrace. When he locked his hands around you it was only then that you realized he was carrying you like so and he had no intention of letting you out of his grasp.
He chucked seeing your startled expression. It was also new to him too and he really did not want to admit just how much he had enjoyed holding you close to him. It put his normally anxious heart at ease. He had long since found you beautiful. He knew he had loved you when he first heard you speak your mind to a superior all those years ago. For nobody, not a single man, had the courage to speak the way you did. And you had the skill to back it up. That was why he panicked seeing your injured silhouette in the forest. For if you were to go down he had no idea what he would do. You were so deeply embedded in his life he could not even begin to fathom a life without you in it.
He ran faster than he ever had before when Sam and Frodo found him foraging for plants. When they came in blabbering that you had been hit by an arrow he began sprinting in autopilot. It drove him mad feeling like it took longer to get to you. He was there in no longer than a minute to kill the ten or so orcs that were hunting you, the one he loved. He was a maniac when it came to protecting you. He hadn’t meant to yell so harshly at you but he was scared. Terrified of the thought of losing you, his person.
He noticed the pink beginning to return to your face and more relief flooded his overstressed system, “You are getting some color back.” He noticed as he held you closer, “That is a good sign. The poison must not be spreading.”
You let out a long yawn feeling the effects of it all starting to come over you once more, “That is good. It does not hurt as bad either. Just aches a bit.” Your eyes drooped as you tried to fight off the sleep that was overcoming you.
“Rest. Go to sleep, nigol.” He smiled down to you with nothing but love in those striking eyes. He’d been carrying you for hours already, what was another few anyway?
“Nigol.” You hummed remembering the times he called you that all the way back when you first had met him. He refused to tell you what it meant and by the time you finally met an elf you’d forgotten the nickname altogether, “What does it mean?” You inquired hoping he would indulge you this time as you were on the verge of unconsciousness.
He laughed, throwing his head back and all. You admired the way his dark hair framed his fair face as he looked back down at you. He was truly so handsome. It wasn’t fair he was placed in front of you like this and yet, was so unattainable, “I did not tell you fifty years ago, why would I tell you now?”
“I thought I would try.” You sighed, “Does it mean something bad? You only use it when I mess up.” You asked him once you concluded the worst. He often used that nickname early on when you two had been partnered up. It’s use seemed to fade as you had gotten more competent. Yet now when you had a bum shoulder rendering you useless he used it once more.
He shook his head quickly, “It is not bad. I can promise you that.” He eased your worried face quickly with his words.
“Well, I suppose I can accept that.” You didn’t want to push feeling oddly unlike yourself in his arms. Usually combative and wanting to pick a friendly fight you felt like doing anything but that. You just wanted to enjoy yourself in his embrace as you knew this moment would likely never occur again.
He knew you better than anybody else. He noticed how shy you were suddenly acting. Was it the nickname? Were you tired? Was the poison moving faster than he could? He looked down seeing you continue to fight sleep. Usually so powerful you looked helpless in his arms. His eyes softened as he realized how much trust you had to have in him to relax into him like so. You were always on guard, always ready. Frodo was alive because of that instinct. But now you were at his will and he felt more responsible for you than he had ever before.
“It’s Sindarin.” He admitted wanting to give you something more as you had given him exactly what he wanted, you.
Feeling your eyes getting heavier you replied with tiredness in your voice, “I had concluded that Strider. You did tell me you were raised by elves, remember?” Lazily, you smiled up to him laughing as best as your body would allow you.
“It is Sindarin for little one.” He finally admitted to you, “Or mouse.” He looked down at you nervously hoping you’d have a decent reaction to it.
“Mouse? Little one? I should be offended.” You grinned not taking offense in the slightest for you found it oddly adorable he had given you such a sweet nickname.
“Do not take offense.” He spoke quickly, “I did not mean it that way.”
“Relax, Strider.” You yawned once more feeling your head rest of his chest heavily. Sleep was coming on quick, “I am just teasing you. You are so easy to mess with.”
“Sleep now, little one.” He gave you another gentle squeeze letting you know he had you. It was alright. You could trust him as always. And trust him you did as you found yourself in a quick sleep right back in his arms.
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“There you are.” Strider’s voice pulled you from the sleep that had overcome you on the road. When you blinked you were stunned to be laying in front of a fireplace in a rather grandeur room. You must have made it all the way to Rivendell which meant you had been out for days at this point.
“Are we in Rivendell?” You tried to sit up before his hands pushed you back down, gently, into the plush elven bed.
“You must lie still.” He ordered before answering your question, “Yes. You have been unconscious for nearly four days. Lord Elrond was unsure if you were to make it.” His eyes were laced with something you had hardly seen on the man in your many years of knowing him, fear. He looked scared, terrified. Yet almost relieved seeing you awake.
“Four days?” You swallowed back your surprise.
He gave you a quick not, “Almost, you even have Lord Elrond worried.”
You sighed, “I did not mean to do that.”
He moved closer, sitting on your bedside. Taking his chance he brushed your stray hair away from your face, “You always do that.”
You just looked up at him, “What?”
“It is just that you always care for others before yourself. As much as I love that about you. Think about yourself for once. Care for yourself. You are far too kind.” He spilled his thoughts to you for he was too tired. Too scared at the thought of losing you he was not going to hold back his tongue anymore for he knew he loved you. He wanted you. He couldn’t see you with anyone else but him.
You blinked back surprise at his outright confession. Sure, the two of you had danced around any feelings for quite literally years. But you would have none of that, as sweet as it was, “You did not say that when I slayed half an orc army with you.” You spoke with a hint of playfulness in your tone. It was your favorite game to play with the man.
He laughed a full hearty laugh. A laugh so pure, one you’d heard so rarely from the man. He only laughed like that when he was at peace. Happy. Comfortable and relaxed. A sight that you could really get used to.
“For that is true.” His eyes searched your for any sign of pain. Any sign that something was wrong. He could not quite believe you were finally awake and chatting with him like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been knocked out cold for that long. When Lord Elrond had started to get nervous. Strider was not dumb. He grew up with Elves and knew their tells. When an elf grew worried he knew things were not boding well.
You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze, “What? Is there something on my face? Because that would be embarrassing. I have been asleep for three days and you let something stay on my face for that long?” You rambled not quite sure what you were doing. He was making you nervous. Strider never made you nervous. But when he gave you that earnest look you completely lost yourself to him. How fickle your brain was behaving.
He bit back a laugh sensing your nerves, “No. There is nothing marking your face. I was simply admiring you was all.”
Was he trying to kill you? Your cheeks were sure to be a bright rosy, red for his second confession was bolder than his first, “Admiring me?”
“Indeed. I would not be the man that I am had you not been by me all these years. I thought I was going to lose you. But now that you are back I get to admire you.” He spoke with that soft voice he only used ever so often. It was fascinating to get to know an entirely different side of the man you thought you knew through and through.
“I deserve no such thing.” You laughed trying to shake off the seriousness of his gaze down on you. He did not find your statement the least bit humorous.
“While I do not agree I also do not wish to argue. How do you feel?” He changed the subject even though he might have enjoyed watching you squirm. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he did not miss the small jump you had in response to his contact. Touches he had given you so often before had changed. Things had shifted between the two of you and for the first time in a long time he was excited. He had a purpose. His purpose.
You gulped back your argument and nodded in agreement, “I feel fine, will you let me sit up now or must I stare up all afternoon?” You quipped hoping your quick mouth would let him know just how fine you really felt.
Shaking his head, he held out a hand for your to take, “You may sit up, but take it slow.”
“I was shot by an arrow Strider. I did not get my legs cut off.” You took his hand letting him pull you up to sit next to him.
He rolled his eyes yet still held admiration in them, “That mouth will get you in trouble one day.” His eyes traced your face as you too just looked at him. It didn’t feel quite real that he could have admired you just as you him. Had you been blind?
You hummed in agreement not being able to take your eyes off his, “Not if you are there to protect me.”
It was he who broke the staring game going on between the two of you as he collected his thoughts, “Indeed, little one. There is nothing truer than that statement.” Gaining some courage, he took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze, “Please never scare me like that again for I cannot bear it.”
“I will try my hardest, as long as you promise to do the same.” You nodded towards him feeling bashful in front of the man you’d grown to love. The man you had only hoped to love you as he did. The man you never could have imagined felt the same. Yet here you were.
Giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, he simply nodded to you, “I promise, little one. I promise with my whole heart.”
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chickentenderx · 18 days
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been reading a lot of Legolas fics recently. I see your Meleth Nîn[my love] and raise you Ithildin Nîn[my starlight] or El Nîn[my star]
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multific · 8 months
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Whatever the Queen Wants
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Thranduil x Reader
Summary: On a boring day you have time to walk around, and recall different memories from your past.
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You loved taking walks in the woods and your gardens.
Seeing your kingdom bloom and glow just did something to you, it was special.
Spring was your favourite season. Seeing new life everywhere around you made you want to be a mother once again.
You could still recall when your son was born.
Legolas became the center of your world in a simple moment. As soon as the midwife-elf placed him in your arms, it was over.
Both for you and for your husband.
He was the cutest little elfling you have ever seen. Looked just like your husband but behaved just like you.
Even when he was little, you took him out to the gardens on walks, showing him the world. Every single time you looked at all the different rose bushes or hydrangeas all you could see was him as a little elf let's elfling playing amongst them, you just wished you had something to capture that moment with so you would be able to show it to your husband.
Now Legolas was a fully grown up elf, who was more interested in all the different kinds of fighting styles than nature, and also your husband did sometimes had time to spend with you right now he was too busy with his kingly duties, so you were left alone to walk the woods and your gardens.
And that is exactly what you were doing that day. You woke up and somehow amazingly sunny it was that day, so you made your way out to your favorite place in the garden. Your favorite place was where there were these huge hydrangea bushes, all different colors and shapes and sizes you loved every single one of them.
That part of the garden was a present from your husband to you as an anniversary gift. Since he knew how much you adored flowers, he added every single flower that she liked to the garden just to please you.
There were different statues as well in the garden, all of them beautiful.
You left out a long side on your way to your favorite bench. If only you could have the two men who meant so much to you there with you.
You felt so lonely at that moment, it might sound arrogant to some people that the queen was complaining but you really were rather sad that you had to spend such a nice day all alone although you did enjoy every second of it and you did make the best of it, but you still missed both of your boys.
Maybe that's why the idea of having another child was so inviting to you, then you would have finally someone who would need your attention all day long and they would give your attention all day long as well before they grow up. You missed that, you missed having someone who relied on you so much. Legolas it's already too old for him need you in such a way. Even If he did sometimes come over to you asking for your advice it wasn't the same.
When you tried to hint a new baby to your husband but he was too oblivious for your tries or he simply didn’t want to tell you that he did not want another child.
So, you didn’t bring the topic up after that. Although, it did hurt a little bit, you were happy with your life. Even if you felt lonely at times like this, you were happy.
“Naneth,” you heard someone say.
“Oh, Legolas. What are you doing here?” you asked as your son came over to you and sat down next to you.
“You looked lonely, Mother. So, I came to keep you company. Is Father still in a meeting?”
You offered him a kind smile, it warmed your heart that he thought about you.
“He is. But you don’t have to be here, I am not lonely, I have my flowers, you should practice.”
“Nonsense. No training or practice is more important than you, Naneth.”
“Thank you. How was your day?” he always loved to show or talk to you about his training. Ever since he was little he was a quick learner.
“Really good…” then he went on and on about his day. Telling you everything about swords, bows and more.
If you were honest you never truly understood everything he said or referred to but you still listened with a smile. Seeing him be so interested and happy about something warmed your heart.
You listened to everything he had to say. Every single word.
You saw so much of your husband in him. But you were there as well. You still couldn’t believe that you had the privilege to be the mother of this exceptional elf.
“Adar!” said Legolas out of nowhere which made you look the way he was looking. And you saw your husband, walking towards the two of you.
“Nin hén, Nin mel, what are you two doing out here in such an hour?” you failed to notice that the sun started to go down.
“Mother was lonely so I came over to give her some company.” replied Legolas as Thranduil joined you.
“It is getting late, it would be best if we all headed to rest.” you said and both of them agreed. Thranduil guided you towards your chambers after you said your goodbyes to your son.
“We have a wonderful child.” he said as you laid down in bed.
“Indeed, I cannot believe he is so big, I feel like I can still recall holding him as a young elfling.” you let out a long sigh at the happy memory as you felt your husband’s arms move you towards him. “I have been thinking, Nin mel.”
“About?”
“Another child.” Thranduil almost jumped up as you said that.
“A-another?”
“I have been feeling lonely with Legolas leaving us so frequently and with you being in meetings all day. I always wanted a daughter as well, you know that.”
“I do. I know it.”
“It was a silly idea.” you said after his long silence. “Forget it, Thranduil. I’ll be fine.”
“We can have another child. I’m only thinking of ways to ensure it would be a girl.” his confession nearly made you choke on air, then you smiled.
“No need. I would be happy with a boy as well.” you said as you pulled him closer and kissed him.
Thranduil knew, whatever the Queen of Mirkwood wanted, she got it.
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Translation:
Naneth – Mother
Adar – Father
Nin hén – My child
Nin mel - My love
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ˇAO3ˇ
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master-muffinn · 1 month
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Lord of the rings X druid!reader headcanons
Legolas x reader, Thranduil x reader, Gandalf x reader (platonic), Merry/Pippin x reader (platonic), Elanor x reader.
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Legolas
🧚‍♀️ Legolas is very curious and excited! He wants to know EVERYTHING about you and what you can do!
🧚‍♀️ But he finds the fact that you can turn to different kinds of animals the most interesting, and asks you a lot of questions about every animal you can transform too.
“Y/n what is that for an odd creature?”
“It’s a seastar”
“A STAR!??” 🤩
🧚‍♀️ Asks you if he can touch you in your animal forms. He lights up with happiness when you say ‘yes’ and touches you with utmost care and curiosity.
🧚‍♀️ Loves carrying you around in your smaller forms. If you turn to a snake he’ll put you around his neck like a necklace, a bird on his head or any other animal that can be on his shoulders.
🧚‍♀️ When the fellowship was in the snowy mountains and while the others had to walk in the deep snow, you were a little mouse in Legolas warm pocket. Not needing to do anything and Legolas didn’t need to worry about your safety. Win-win.
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Thranduil
“I thought the druids died out for 4000 years ago, guess i was wrong”
🍷 Like Legolas he is very much interested but in a more calmer and quieter way. He also likes the animal shapes more. 
🍷 He likes when you turn to a little bird and sit on his shoulder whenever he goes to different places.
🍷 LOVES when he sits on his throne and you turn to a smaller animal and sit on his large hand and put your tiny paws on his fingers- the king has heart eyes. 😍 (yes you are his pet now lol) And he totally would feed you grapes too.
🍷 Other than that he also likes your plant and flower abilities. He has left the garden's beauty to you and it is shining more beautifully than it ever has since you came into his life- or perhaps it is just (amazing) you who has grown beautiful and colorful flowers in his heart❤.
🍷 And of course he will try out some of your abilities in the bedroom 😉
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Gandalf
🧙‍♂️ Sorry Frodo, Sorry Bilbo, y/n is his number one favorite friend now!
🧙‍♂️ He is very fascinated over your elemental abilities. Wind, water, fire, plants/trees? “What can you do?” 
🧙‍♂️ Gandalf would try (hard) to not sound too eager and excited when you show him. But he can’t help but smile and laugh when you make a phoenix appear out of the fire.
🧙‍♂️ Might show you his ‘magic’ if you ask nicely and you will inspire one another. 
🧙‍♂️ If you have any difficulties with your training and elemental controlling he will give you advice and guidance with what he knows.
🧙‍♂️ Gandalf wouldn't mind if you join him for a while on his journey. He greatly enjoys your company.
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Merry/Pippin
🤡 Oh no! OH NOOO! Gandalf will pray to god ... .PLEASE DON’T LET THE WORLD END!!
🤡 When they learn what you are, they will storm you with questions. They will drag you with them for every little prank and misery they are planning.
“Y/n, can you turn to bird and poop on someone's hea-” (pippin)
“No!”
“Can you poop in someones drin-”
“No!”
“Can you-”
“ENOUGH WITH THESE POOP REQUESTS!!!!”
🤡 If you meet on the ring quest, they will ask you to turn to a larger and fluffy animal, like a bear so they can sleep with (on) you on cold nights (like the bear in jungle book? Yes!) Boromir will get jealous because you stole his children. 😢
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Elanor Brandyfoot
🐌 The others don't trust you and don't want you around until you show them how quickly you can turn seeds to flowers.
🐌 Elanor will try to calm them down and talk to them so they don’t ‘use’ you for their ‘food greed’.
🐌 You two will have a contest of who is quickest to fill a bucket with berries, buuut of course Elanor wins. 
“Looks like ya powers weren't able to outmatch me!” 
🐌 She loves to see your abilities and is very happy that others like you too and have accepted you to the group, but she gets a little jealous when you get too much attention because she wants to be alone with you too! 
🐌 She loves the evenings when things have been calming down and laying under the stars with her head on your (larger) animal form. Petting you is very calming for her and she mostly falls asleep like that with you. 
Thank you for reading! I hope you like it! 💖
Post made by me, @master-muffinn
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wordbunch · 10 months
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SFW Alphabet: Legolas
a/n: no idea who requested it, but boy am I glad they did!!! 💛 it will be big (just like my love for him) cause I got carried away, but I do hope you will enjoy it!! feedback and reblogs are always SO appreciated and mean a lot to me. and once again, Legolas is so AAAAA 😍😍😍
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) He is very affectionate and incredibly warm, subtly in front of others, but almost boundlessly when you two are alone. In a dangerous situation, even if you’re not alone, he won’t hesitate, though, to hug you as tightly as he needs to in order to reassure both himself and you that everything is alright. Legolas shows affection in any way possible: hugs, kisses wherever he can reach, holding your hand or just having a hand on your back/shoulders in public, touching your hair, even in the way he looks at you it is obvious how smitten he is.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) He would honestly be an amazing friend (canon!), loyal to a fault, protective, and even if paths of life take you away from each other, he’d always have love for you. It would start perhaps during an adventure of his? If not, maybe even in childhood. He really gives me lifelong friends vibes. 
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) To be fair, he didn’t have many cuddle sessions in his life, so he’s not exactly completely used to them, but he will savor every opportunity to shower his beloved with love so… if that is your preferred way of showing affection, he totally has nothing against it! But it wouldn’t be his number one expression of love and physical closeness. However, he cannot and won’t say no to a cuddle session after a demanding day, and he is quite a big fan of being the little spoon or laying with his head on your chest as your fingers brush through his shiny hair. 
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) He is a tidy person and he can clean his space decently well, but he cannot cook - a prince doesn’t exactly have to. If that is something you enjoy, he loves to hang around while you do it and he asks you questions, and offers to help, but he really isn’t too good at it. And regarding settling down, he is quite a youthful and restless spirit, but he is certain he wants to be where you are, no matter where it is. And if you’re willing to accompany him to random journeys and adventures and just be free together, he would be inexplicably happy. 
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) not today :)  hope this helps!
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) I feel like elves would be very proper regarding those things, and he is a prince so it would be kind of expected of him to get married. Before falling for you, he wasn’t extremely keen on the idea, and he would have done it if necessary for the stability of his realm, but you turned his world upside down and he wants nothing more but to be yours forever. Honestly he would like being kind of a trophy husband?? And he is so proud of being with you so he would like to officially crown your love. “Quickly” is a very relative term when it comes to elves… but I feel like he would go for it as soon as you give him a hint that you might want the same. 
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) VERY. Yes, he might be a super skilled warrior in many aspects, but when it comes to you, his touch is as light as a feather, and so are his lips against your skin, and his voice when he whispers words of adoration. I’d say that emotionally he’s really unproblematic, and attuned to his emotions, and he would be very careful with yours. Unless he’s having a really terrible day, then he might accidentally snap at you for nothing, but he regrets it in a millisecond; he’s still pretty young after all, and sometimes a random impulse will take over.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) He likes hugs and they’re one of the surest ways to comfort him if something is bothering him. Legolas basically melts into your embrace. Maybe you’re the one who initiates it a bit more, but you know how dear they are to him and you know they’re something that makes him feel very loved. When he hugs you, he will try to shield you from the outside world as much as possible, which is really sweet. Also, his arms and shoulders are literally perfect so the hugs feel super nice.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Ahh, what is quick for elves?? I feel like he would fall in love gradually, but it would show in his actions and facial expressions, until he slips up during some sweet moment between the two of you. He almost scolds himself for not making it a more special moment, worthy of his favorite person, but you’re relishing in it either way, and the blush on his usually pale cheeks is a very nice bonus! 
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Legolas comes off as pretty confident, and he is, so jealousy isn’t an emotion that often plagues him. However, he is for sure slightly possessive (maybe it’s an elvish thing?), and what is his… is his. Deep down he is passionate, and he is feisty in his particular way, which sometimes comes out in the form of possessiveness too. 
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Gentle and plenty. He likes to kiss you everywhere he can, whenever he can, it’s one of his guilty pleasures. He wakes you up with a bunch of kisses all over your face, in public he often kisses your hand, but in private he might kiss each one of your fingers separately. Don’t even get me started on the neck kisses - he would never stop if he could. His sweet spots, which you discovered by accident but it was plain by the way that he inhaled, are right under his ear, and on the inside of his wrists. It is incredibly intimate, and something that only you will ever know and do.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?) He is confused, for sure, since he’s not really been around too many children in his long life. Unsure of what to do, he stammers when kids ask him questions because they’re, unsurprisingly, fascinated by him, and he looks to you for guidance. You think it’s kind of charming, he literally seems scared which is an unusual look on him. If you’re good with children, he has a huge admiration for it, and he would definitely be an amazing dad one day.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Legolas is quite high on energy, so I think he’d prefer more active mornings - even better if he can finish early whatever he needs to do for the day, so that later he can be all yours without distractions. But on other occasions he thinks you just look too enticing to be left alone at dawn… he can’t help himself but hang around a little bit more when you look so peaceful, smell so amazing, and have the most kissable soft skin in the world…
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) He loves evenings and nights, especially clear and starry ones, he will never fail to be excited and it’s so cute. Legolas loves to go outside with you at night and stargaze, even though he might spend a solid amount of time gazing at you while you look at the brilliant sky. You have had so many long night walks also, and you have basically lost count. If the weather isn’t ideal, he will sit on the floor in front of you, while you’re on the bed, and have you braid his hair and tell you every single detail of his day (about the parts you weren’t around for), and then you’ll switch and he will braid your hair and listen to you.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) I’d say he is pretty easy to read, even if his facial expressions are subtle, so you can often guess his feelings based on that alone. He wants to sometimes play the part of a handsome, mysterious prince, but all it takes is for you to rake your fingers through his flawless hair for him to confess to anything ever. 
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) By you? Almost never. He will just get really upset if you found yourself alone in a very dangerous situation, and it could have been prevented. Generally he is also patient with others (he’s still royalty and needs to keep his behavior in check), until someone tries to mess with you, in whatever way. Then he doesn’t really care about politeness anymore.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) His memory is impeccable, no matter how much or how little you talk. If you say something, he will listen AND remember. Perhaps, though, he is just a tiny bit spoiled and he will expect you to be like that as well, but secretly. 
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) The first time the two of you went on some little journey alone. Whether it was just a one-day errand to check on something that happened in one area of the forest, or an entire visit to another kingdom, he treasures it so much. He likes to do things like that, and there is nothing better in all of Middle-earth than doing it with the person he loves more than anyone. At the same time it would activate his extra protective mode, but he would also be more free and unrestrained than he usually is, and it tugs on your heartstrings for sure.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Legolas is very protective and very quick to act. In his many years he has seen all kinds of horrors, and he knows how his mother’s death affected both him and his father, and he absolutely refuses to ever let anything bad happen to you, as much as it is in his power. First and foremost he physically protects you, but he is no stranger to speaking up for you if you need verbal defense. He really appreciates it when you sweep in if he’s having a boring conversation with someone and he is looking for a way out - although he’s friendly, he really hates dull conversations which are sometimes a given for a royal. So he’ll be forever grateful if you get him out of it. 
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Legolas firmly believes that you deserve the best of the best, every single day, but he can also get impatient while preparing something special for you, like having a piece of jewelry custom made. However, he still loves spoiling you and making you feel special, but he loves to feel spoiled as well. So both of you occasionally go all out and plan a special outing, or a dinner with the other’s favorite food, or just a little gift that is perfectly suited for the other person. 
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) He can sometimes be a bit impulsive and rash in using his words, and is quick to hit someone with a witty answer, which can end up being unnecessarily rude… but he is really growing out of it. He also gets very easily carried away in talking about something that he is passionate about, but you find it way more endearing than annoying. 
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Quite - have you seen him? But he is convinced he looks best when you help him pick out clothes, and especially when you braid his hair. He is also happy if the two of you match your clothes even in a very subtle way, but it shows your bond in a nice way.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Before falling in love with you, his answer would be no - he had a pretty decent life… however, he always felt a constant desire to keep searching for something, not knowing exactly what it is, but like something was missing from his life.. Lo and behold, when you two got together,  that feeling disappeared.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) He is fascinated by snow and thinks it’s really beautiful, and he doesn’t get to see much of it, so his fascination grows. 
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Someone who doesn’t have appreciation for smaller joys in life! Like, how can you not be absolutely amazed by those trees or these butterflies or that sunset from the other day! There is so much to love and marvel at in this world, and he will take any opportunity to do so, but he wants to share that feeling with his partner.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Doesn’t really need sleep, doesn’t sleep much, but he will let himself go a little bit if you happen to be cuddling him. 
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