#modern au thranduil

[coopsgirl]

Modern AU Thranduil One Shot - Studying Abroad

Safe for work, 995 words

The study abroad program you were participating in felt like a dream come true. The University of Kent located in Canterbury had proved to be the right school as the campus was lovely and it was a short train trip to London which made it easy to travel around the rest of England from there. You had been invited to a bonfire by some of your classmates and you happily accepted. The crowd grew fairly large by the time the sun had begun to set which during the Summer, was quite late. One man in particular caught your eye. He was very tall, you guessed around 6’5”, and had shaggy, light blonde hair. You were afraid he was going to notice you staring but it was hard to stop as he was so handsome. “You fancy him, don’t you?” your friend Ruby asked as she sat down on the ground beside you. “He’s really cute” you confessed. “He’s rich too. His father is the Earl of Guilford. He’s the eldest so he’ll inherit the title one day.” “Really?! I’ve never met anybody with a title.” “Come on, I’ll introduce you.” “No! I couldn’t. I’m a nobody” you said in protest. Ruby stood up and then took your hands to pull you to your feet as well. “He’s a real sweetheart. Come on!”

You followed behind her nervously as you walked towards him. “Hello! I’m Ruby and I wanted to introduce you to my friend Y/N. She’s studying abroad from America and has never met any of the nobility.” “Oh well, it’s very nice to meet you both. I’m Thranduil” he said with a big smile as he took turns shaking each woman’s hand. “I’ll see you later” Ruby said and then she walked away leaving them alone. “I hope we didn’t bother you” you said apologetically now feeling quite embarrassed as Ruby hadn’t known him any more than you did. “No bother at all. Are you studying at the university here?” “Yes. It’s just for the Summer but so far, I’m having a wonderful time. I’ve always wanted to come to England.” “I’m glad you’re enjoying your visit and I’m glad you were able to come to my party as well.” “This is your party?” you asked as you realized you hadn’t been given much information about the event. “Yes. I graduated from the University of Kent and every Summer I like to hold a party open to all current students, particularly the ones dedicated enough to continue classes through the Summer term” “That’s really nice of you. Is this your property?” “Yes, the manor house is just on the other side of that rise” he said as he pointed to a small green hill behind him. “Thanks again for the party and for not minding talking with me. I should get back to my friends.” “Do you have to?” he asked with a half-smile. You felt the butterflies in your stomach going crazy as you replied, “No, I guess I don’t have to.”

“Would you like to see the house? There’s a beautiful view from just over there” he said looking to the hill. “I’d love to see it.” You could hardly believe your eyes when the large house came into view. “Wow! I can’t imagine living somewhere like that.” “It was built in the 1700s. It takes a lot of work to maintain but it’s a privilege to be responsible for it and make sure it stands for centuries to come.” Thranduil was so proud as he spoke of the home he had been raised in and that he loved dearly. There was a gazebo not far from them and he took her hand in his as they walked towards it. You sat down beside each other and looked out onto the sky where the first stars were beginning to twinkle in the twilight. “I went to Leeds Castle last weekend and that was really fun. It’s beautiful there too.” You really wanted to tell him that he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen with a voice smoother than silk but instead you rambled about the places you’d been. “It is very lovely there…as are you.” You looked up at him with surprise and he quickly spoke again. “I am sorry. That was much too forward.” You felt courage well up inside you as you said, “I don’t mind. I think you’re really cute too.” You could feel your whole face turn red as you thought you sounded silly but the smile he gave you quickly put you at ease.

“I hope this doesn’t sound rude but I’ve never heard the name Thranduil before, is it a traditional English name.” He chuckled and then answered. “The name was my father’s idea. It is very old and I don’t believe that anyone has used it in centuries. I usually go by Thran.” “It’s a nice name and definitely is unique. Should I ask about your middle name?” you said with a joking tone. “Oh, it’s even worse! It’s Oropherion” he explained and you both laughed. “You’ll have to explain that one to me sometime” you said hinting that you wanted to see him again. “I certainly will” he said and he reached over to hold your hand.   

Thran then smiled as he moved a little closer to you and then took both of your hands in his. He leaned forward and tenderly kissed your forehead. When you did not pull away, he looked into your eyes and then his soft lips kissed yours. He let go of your hands to caress your face and neck and you put your arms around his chest and pulled him closer to you. His kisses were gentle and sweet and you could feel yourself becoming a bit lightheaded. A shooting star streaked across the sky above but you were both oblivious to anything going on around you as you were completely lost in each other’s arms.

#lee pace #thranduil #thranduil one shot #thranduil x reader #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x you #tolkien fic #modern au thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil fluff

[itsonlydana]

"passenger princess" | chapter four

the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana

❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

❱ wordcount: 3,3k

❱ summary: a ride home

❱ warnings: none

❱ an: could he be any more perfect? y'all, tell me if you have some guesses how this will go on🤭

general m.list + series m.list

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

CHAPTER FOUR: STARS

"Come on, I'll give you a ride."

You whirled around to Thranduil, ready to argue that it was far too late considering he had to work the next morning. You'd imposed on him too much already, the kitchen was in a state that would need a deep cleaning and the boys would certainly sleep in.

"You don't have to," you tried as he passed you and grabbed his coat from the counter. "In fact, you shouldn't–"

Pushing his arms through the coat, Thranduil flipped the collar up and sorted his long hair over his shoulder. He seemed unbothered by your protests and continued to slip into his boots. "I forgot something at work that can't wait anyway, so grab your shoes."

Pursing your lips but swallowing the pouty reply you wanted to throw at him for ordering you around, you slipped into your sneakers, glaring at him while hugging Legolas and Gimli, and then Aragorn Goodbye.

Gimli even dared to wink at you, shoving his elbow into your side with a rumbled: "Fun ride"

Naturally, you punched his arm for that.

Your bag shouldered and the phone that continued to light up with messages shoved deep into it, you followed Thranduil out into the surprisingly cold night.

The gravel path leading to the, well, almost mansion, crunched under your footsteps, filling the silence that you yourself didn't know how to break.

Your last conversation didn't offer much transition to normal small talk, and you didn't want it to.

You wanted to be wrapped up in the warm flirt in his voice, in that heated look that he had thrown you as you'd left him in the hallway.

The nerves of the skin he'd touched still fizzled and ached for him to return his hands onto you, an itch that only he could scratch, a burn for him to sooth.

That though, was most definitely not what you would say right now.

But you didn't want to spend the rest of the way in awkward silence, so you resorted to the manners Thranduil valued. Not only because he worked as a lawyer with a very important –rich, conceited, snobbish– clientele, but because he still held onto the hope that some manners would rub off on Legolas.

"Thank you for offering to drive me." You bit your bottom lip through a smile that has him cracking one as well, soft lips breaking up the stern expression his dark eyebrows sometimes gave him.

"Don't," Thranduil shook his head, the movement sending some of the shorter strands framing his face back over his shoulder, "knowing you're home safe gives me a peace of mind. I wouldn't have been able to sleep if you were waiting on some bus right now."

"Well," your cheeks grew hot, "thank you anyway"

Turning to the road you watched your shadows move in sync, the lights of the house falling through the trees lining the way and flittering on the gravel like scattered fireflies.

You saw how his shadow stepped closer, your hands dangling close enough that one small movement would've led to them brushing against each other. The space was small, easily crossed yet it stayed that way for the rest of the walk.

It wasn't the time.

Not right now; nevertheless how fucking close you had been to kissing him in the hallway.

Arriving at his car, he opened the door of the passenger side, your place, as Legolas had once joked.

He had a point because after Thranduil had first picked you up from the bar, he'd come to your rescue many times, and he helped you to the passenger side first each time, as if he wouldn't allow anything else.

You didn't complain.

Sitting next to him allowed you a perfect view of those sharp cheekbones and cutting jawline that your hands itched to cup and draw your fingers along of. Not only that but whenever the whole group was being driven around, you could enjoy the drive without a shoulder nudging yours or a hand reaching over to open a window.

As you sat down, you took notice of the seat setting, namely how it was perfectly adjusted to you.

If Legolas had ever ridden with his father, you always had to pull forward, because Legolas, in addition to his looks, did, of course, inherited Thranduil's incredibly long and enviable legs to tower over everyone else. A gift he constantly misused to kick you, or to rest his arm on your shoulder.

Once seated in the car, you pressed deeper into the fabric of the seat. Even the headrest was perfectly at your height, so you didn't have to do more than place your bag in the foot well.

As Thranduil's door swung open a gust of chilly air rushed into the already cold car, prompting you to roll your shoulders and hug your torso.

Apart from your shirt, you hadn't brought a jacket, considering it had been warm earlier when you stashed your backpack in the dorm after class.

Thranduil folded himself into his seat, his long legs first, and shamelessly you stared at him as he elegantly lowered himself and tossed his hair over his shoulders before pulling the door shut.

Another flood of cold air.

This time Thranduil noticed how your arms wrapped tighter around yourself and without saying much, he turned slightly and reached behind his seat.

"Here," in the silence of his car, his voice sounded even deeper and the warmth in it was almost enough for you when he'd already put something in your lap. "And don't you dare tell me it's not necessary. Not giving you a choice!" he ordered, a teasing smile taking out all the sterness of his tone.

"Thank you," you breathed, unfolding a navy blue sweater, one that had a white deer stitched over the breastbone, and as soon as you pulled it over your head, the world flimmered at its edges, reducing to just the inside of this car.

"It's not washed, but I promise you it's clean."

Which you couldn't care less about, not even a flying fuck was given toward this precious item of clothing that rocked your world and completely spun it out of its axis.

This was his sweater, his clothing that he gave up for you. This happened in dreams, in books and stories and wishes and hopes– not in the real life.

Maybe this was another thing that separated Thranduil from those Fratboys and overmasculine guys that thought the most romantic thing they could do was pop a mint-gum before smashing their mouths onto yours in slobby kisses.

He has years of experience against their lousy teenager moments.

The sweater smelled so much like him and his house, only much stronger. His scent, rich, full of his perfume and him, took over all your senses. The fabric was so damn soft, so warm, so cozy; you were ready to sink into it and never leave.

Literally, because even sitting down, the waistband bunched up in your lap and you would have had to push the sleeves back, but you made yourself comfortable in the way too big sweater.

Thranduil –most likely unintentionally but who knew– seemed to have decided on torturing you in the cruelest way possible, and maneuvred the car one heel of the palm on the steering wheel, and the other conveniently placed behind your headrest, his head angled so that he could watch through the back window instead of the mirror.

That position, arm outstretched, muscles subtly flexing and his prominent jawline close enough that it could cut your held breath in two, did unexplainable things to you.

If anyone asked you would deny that this movement alone had you blushing and your stomach curling, heat rushing through your body over something so simply yet breathtakingly beautiful and assertive.

He caught your gaze quicker than you could have fixed the blown-wide look on your face, the corners of his mouth twitching.

So he did know.

You laughed softly, "Show off."

His grin became sly. "No idea what you're talking about," he murmured, low and deep and very much a lie.

"Besides, there could've been something behind the car, who knows," he said nonchalantly as he steered the car toward the front gate, the black, tall halves that opened for you at the push of a button.

My ass, something behind the car, you thought and coughed to cover up a laugh.

The mansion grew smaller in the rearview mirror, hedges and tall trees framing the white brick facade and gray shingles until the last of the lit up windows was nothing more than a small dot that disappeared after blinking.

There was something special about driving around at night. The lots in the area where Legolas and Thranduil lived were large, as were the houses and the distance between them, and unlike the city, you were the only ones on the streets.

The night was dark, the sky black, like ink and endlessly stained with countless stars that you couldn't see from your dorm room due to the many skyscrapers and their ever-shining lights. At your place, it was loud and bright, and you leaned back in your seat to watch the sky through the window in front of you.

There was no one else on the road, not this time of night, not in a neighborhood where most didn't even need to work much: no headlights, no cars, no one else but Thranduil and you.

Where that awareness would've brought a subtle panic and anxiety with it a while ago, there was tranquility instead.

All worries about the crush you harbored for Thranduil and how he could find out were replaced, softened up by the memory of his hands on your body, that damn painting burying itself into your back and the sharp edges reminding you that this had been very much real.

This was very much real.

"You're thinking very loudly."

You turned your head, furrowing your brows at Thranduil, "Am not."

He scoffed. "No, darling, you most definitely are. I have never met anyone who is that bad at keeping a straight face." Thranduil switched the lanes, this time checking the mirror and meeting your gaze in it, "Next time we play poker, please remind me to bet on your cards."

Huffing and rolling your eyes you did what any other adult in your position would do, and stuck your tongue out at him. "Maybe I won't play poker with you anymore, how 'bout that?"

"What's your other option? Legolas is good but honestly- the boy would throw his cards away for Aragorn," Thranduil mused and when you laughed he raised his thick eyebrows once, "It's me or Gimli, sweetheart."

You didn't even need to think back to the last poker game you'd played with Gimli, that was too far away and this evening's endless round of Monopoly sufficed generous arguments against him as well. Why you've ever thought it was a great idea to play any competitive game against the most thick-headed people was a mystery on its own.

Another shudder ran through you then, but not because of the cold– the sweater provided so much warmth and your cheeks burned from smiling so much, but rather because your mind did in fact remind you of the faithful poker night. The most chaotic one in the history of poker games.

"Oh," you exhaled a deep breath.

Thranduil's head turned and you made a point of looking thoroughly distressed.

"I don't think I'll ever recover from the awful talk I had with Professor Gandalf." Your whole body shudders just like then, transporting you back to the awkward shuffling around, the stuttering and the many, many, many excuses you'd babbled.

"It couldn't have been that bad," Thranduil said and then, tilting his head as you slowly shook your head, he added an unsure: "Right?"

"Thranduil," you stared at him, barely noticing how the corner of his eyes crinkled at his name out of your mouth, "Thranduil– I was piss-drunk and sent my 70.. or hell, 80-something Professor an E-Mail…at three in the morning. With just a winky smiley!" Your voice had taken on a desperate edge at the end, cutting it close to such a high pitch that you fell breathless into the seat.

All the while Thranduils laughter grew and grew until he gasped for air, his one hand swatting dramatically in front of him. "Mhm.. oh yes, I'll never get tired of hearing it," he giggled, a sound that did not fit the first impression most people got of him.

"Yeah you can laugh all you want," you tried to come across as stern though failed miserably at the sight and sound of Thranduil chuckling. He made it impossible to do anything else but smile. "Jeez, thank god the old man found it funny as well. I think I would've died if I'd sent it to Professor Sauron instead. He hates me."

Thranduil opened his mouth, then closed it again.

A bit quieter than you expected he started again after a while: "This may be delusional since my line of work shows me the worst of people, sides you wouldn't think exist, but I think that you are the loveliest woman I've ever met. That Professor must be out of his mind to hate someone as clever, beautiful, and magnificent as you."

Those words, coming out of his mouth shot you straight into the heart, hollowing out that pit in your stomach and filling it endlessly with messy butterflies and fireworks in such an overtaking force you couldn't find it in you to answer.

You knew he liked you, or at least appreciated your presence.

You had felt it earlier, had seen in his eyes that he was interested and oh– that this picture-perfect specimen of a man would look at you like that was more than you could want.

It had been such a far-fetched wish that there would be anything else except this lust that hearing him compliment you, raising you to a pedestal you never dared to dream about, was astounding and unfathomable.

Thankfully, Thranduil put you out of the misery of searching for something equally important to retort.

He reached over to rest his hand on your thigh, calming the slight bouncing you'd fallen into. "I know it's nothing like Legolas poetic words."

The heavy air that had taken hold of you lifted as you let out a breathy laugh. "He's an idiot. Took after you, am I right?" you teased and slightly flicked a finger against the soft skin of his hand.

You didn't know what led to that sudden contact, one he mostly initiated wherelse you didn't dare to act upon more than friendly handshakes or brushing his fingers while passing the butter or salatbowl.

He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly, "When they grew him in the lab I made sure to tell them to crank the dumbass level high enough as to not let an identical version of myself get loose on the world."

You pretended to frown, sizing him up and down, "Surely they should have added less then."

The disgruntled snort coincided precisely with a playful tap against your thigh, a swift movement you couldn't have defended against. The moment his hand made contact with the outer part of your leg, you heard the smack, felt the entirely harmless and certainly not painful pull, and your jaw dropped as you stared at Thranduil.

"You didn't just do that!"

"What?" Thranduil blinked innocently at you.

"Ohh, how dare you pull off the eyebrow thing."

"What eyebrow thing?"

"You know," you raised a hand and gestured towards his entire face, which now turned back to the street with a far too sly grin. "That thing you do. You raise those thick eyebrows and open your eyes wider like you're patronizing me and act all virtuous at the same time."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he said and did exactly what you'd just explained.

You simply glared at him and flicked his thigh as well.

The car turned, departing from the serene country road to navigate through the sparse traffic of the city streets.

Instead of stars, blinkers and billboards now raced past the window, casting their bright lights on you and immersing you in a cascade of brightness that prompted you to blink a few times.

Previously, where it had been just you, Thranduil, and the hum of the engine, you hadn't realized how comforting those few sounds were. As Thranduil drove along the main street, more focused and enveloped in the watercolor hues of the city, you almost asked him to turn around again.

A yawn overtook you just as you wanted to reply to his compliment from before, feeling slightly dazed by the atmosphere, cutting you off just as you said his name.

"Oh god," you mumbled and checked the display for the time, "How can it be two already?" Unconsciously you cuddled the sweater, burring your nose in the seam while fighting another yawn.

Thranduil turned his head and a soft smile played his lips. "Nearly there, sweetheart. When do you have to be up again?"

You groaned, rubbing a hand over your eyes, "Eight? I think… maybe eight thirty if I skip breakfast and rush straight to uni." He tilted his head and you shrugged, "Eight fifteen and a small breakfast?"

Satisfied he nodded. "Better."

It was such a small thing that he cared about, though the heat rushed into your cheeks all the same.

He parked the car right in front of the dorm complex and after peeling yourself out of the comfortable warmth he led you to the main entrance.

Not wanting this night to end, you took your time searching inside your purse for the keys, fumbling around and pushing some mints and loose papers back and forth until you couldn't drag it out any longer, and then some more finding the right one.

Thranduil waited patiently, leaning against the brick wall, the headlights of cars washing his ivory skin silver.

"So," you said as you couldn't drag the goodbye out any longer.

"So," he repeated.

Standing together in the small alcove of the entrance felt more confined with the tension between you, drawing you closer to him.

Tilting your chin towards the ground, you looked up at him through half-closed, weary lids. "Thank you again. For driving... and thank you for what you said. It.. that whole speech, y'know? That means a lot to hear it and like especially from you."

Thranduil smiled. "Anything for you," he whispered.

Then, he withdrew his hand from his coat pocket. Your eyes followed as he approached your face, his fingertips gliding over your temple, following the curve of your eyebrow until he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cupped the back of your neck.

Yielding to the gentle pressure, you let yourself fall into the embrace he pulled you into. His coat cascaded down your sides, brushing against your knees pressed against his, and as he rested his chin on your head, you couldn't help but sigh contentedly.

Even though you stood there, fully clothed in street attire and the entrance of your home, it was as close as you could imagine to falling asleep with him. And you nearly did.

"Goodnight, darling." His words were nothing more than a whisper, rough and muttered into your hairline, but you still beamed, your face pressed against his chest.

"Goodnight, Thranduil."

"Oh, wait–" you stepped back, realizing your still wearing that sweater, hands already on the hem, "here"

Large hands covered yours before you get to pull it off, stopping you with a gently push.

"Keep it. You wear it better than me."

He paused, breathing in and out as if to assure himself that whatever he thought was what he wanted to say. "Keep you thinking of me while you get some sleep."

You're nothing but a blushing mess as you quickly hurried up the staircase to find your roommate on the stairs, typing on her phone and sparing you one lousy "Thanks" that you ignore to rush into the silent apartment.

You didn't even turn on the light in your room but went straight to your window, facing the street. What usually bothered you turned out to be incredibly practical because you could wave to Thranduil one last time.

As always, he had been waiting next to his car, his gaze directed up to your window, and only when he saw you behind the glass did he get in.

However, he didn't continue straight to his firm; his car turned on the street, taking the same direction you came from. Towards his home.

taglist [still open]: @mushroomemeralds @mssuguru , @solartoge @12134z03 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @finallyforgotten @lady-of-imladris @123forgottherest

#📁files: passenger princess #thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #Thranduil #modern au

[chicotfp]

It's Halloween is just around the corner so I finally have a perfect excuse to be weird and make some weird things. Let's have some Halloween AU with Modern Rockstar/Vampire Thranduil 🧛‍♂️🦇🎃

Pics with red eyes and bloody lips are here ⬇️

#thranduil #lee pace #the hobbit #lotr #the elvenking #vampire #vampire Thranduil #modern au #photomanipulation

[mustasekittens]

can you doodle modern AU barduil??

sorry anon i know its been almost 3 years since you asked this (and i did draw a modern barduil back in 2021) but here's another one just for you. idk if you're still around but this one goes out to any of my lotr moots who for some reason stayed

and heres the older version i did (thranduil is still an elf here)

OK I ACTUALLY FOUND THE ORIGINAL ASK I REPLIED TO ? THERE WAS APARANTLY A DUPLICATE? anyways i think both versions of this au goes hard

#mustasekittens #mustasetalks #barduil #thranduil #bard the bowman #modern au #the hobbit #lotr shit in 2024 where am i

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Modern au where the elves resort to making up an official nationality/ethnicity/etc bc “while yeah, we are white/black/brown/ etc, none of use are actually caucasian, african, hispanic, asian, etc.”

They might look like they’re part of a certain ethnicity, but many were all born long before these distinctions really existed and aren’t inherently familiar with cultural aspects of other nationalities and ethnicities. Especially the elves that were born before humans, and especially those that were born pre-orome.

Like, what would they answer when asked “where are you from?” Yeah, they could give a technical answer in relation to their current citizenship, but it’s not like they’re actually from there, nor could they really pretend to be as that culture simply wouldn’t reflect in their behavior.

They can’t exactly tell people they’re ancient immortals bc they’d end up in the loony bin.

So as far as humans are aware, there’s an obscure country, tucked away in the middle of the ocean that no outsider has been to, that so happened to have a mixed bag of races, a good number of which end up becoming respected or known throughout certain demographics.

Conspiracy theorists go crazy about them, claiming they are aliens, but elves have people everywhere for the sole purpose of making their otherness seem normal.

#lord of the rings #lotr #silmarillion #the hobbit #lotr elves #legolas #thranduil #modern elves #they try so hard to keep it a secret #fiting into a world they don’t fit into #4th age #4 silvan sibs au #tolkien meta #ig

[meteors-lotr]

Barduil fam movieset AU

Retired broadway star!Bard X Disgraced former diva!Thranduil, with their children Legolas the makeup artist, Sigrid the score composer, Bain the stunt man and Tilda the pyrotechnician

Additionally Gimli working in the prop department, Aragorn in costumes, Boromir as a fight choreographer, and the hobbits as interns

Éowyn and Éomer as animal handlers, Faramir as on set medic, Gandalf as a senior actor, and I can just keep going

#You better know that all of the kids are extremely famous in their fields #You put them in any field and they will become the most successful at it #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #Modern au #lotr modern au #Actor au #Movie set au #Barduil #bard the bowman #Thranduil #legolas greenleaf #Sigrid dragondaughter #Sigrid of dale #bain dragonson #bain of dale #tilda dragondaughter #tilda of dale #aragorn son of arathorn #Boromir #gimli son of gloin #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #merry brandybuck #pippin took #Èowyn #Èomer #Faramir #Gandalf the gray

[lordgrimwing]

At The Park #1

“Excuse me.”

Thranduil slowly lowered his book and raised an eyebrow at the human woman standing in front of the park bench. He claimed the spot the better part of an hour ago, settling in for a quiet afternoon of reading while Legolas played in the grassy field and occasionally meandered over to the play sets with the other kids.

“Yes, excuse me,” the woman said in the same irritated voice she’d used before. “Your son is causing problems.”

He scanned the area quickly, finding Legolas sitting under one of the slides and playing with the wood chips with three other children. “Is he?” He asked blandly. 

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s swearing.” When that revelation failed to garner the desired reaction, she added, “He’s teaching the other kids to swear.”

Thranduil watched his six-year-old drop something small and dark—probably a beetle—in the hands of the girl sitting next to him. The girl shrieked and kicked her legs a bit, sending wood chips and one frilly sandal flying, but kept the beetle cupped safely in her hands. The scene was entirely mundane, really. He settled back on the bench, unimpressed.

“Well, aren’t you going to do something about that?”

He resisted the urge to raise his book again to block her face. “They look fine to me.”

“He’s swearing!” She repeated, sounding as though anyone younger than twenty even knowing a single curse was unthinkable. “What kind of father lets his child swear?”

With a roll of his eyes, Thranduil leaned around the woman so that Legolas could see him better. 

“Legs!” He called.

His son’s platinum head shot up to look at him.

“Are you using swear words?” He asked.

Eyes wide, Legolas nodded.

“With your hands?”

He shook his head.

“With your voice?” Thranduil asked, suddenly interested.

The affirming head bob was accompanied by a little fist mirroring the enthusiastic motion.

He dropped his book and offered two thumbs up. “That’s my boy!”

The woman gasped.

#the lord of the rings #thranduil #legolas #legolas greenleaf #modern setting #twdd au #Thranduil and Legolas go to the park a lot #Thranduil actually read books #Legolas is a bug kid #Thranduil is the supportive dad every kid needs #Legolas is neurodivergent. no you cannot change my mind #grimwing writes

[sotwk]

Hello! I'm not sure if my question will meet the criteria you posted regarding asks/headcannons/fanfics (itz my first time hehe), but I gotta ask 😅: If Thranduil, his wife, and the 5 brothers had lived in the modern times, what would their lives be like (ex. jobs, lifestyles, modern interests, etc.)? Basically a modern au of sorts...? I understand if you do not answer my question if it really didn't meet the criteria, but if you do answer, thanks in advance!

MODERN AU: THE ROYAL FAMILY OF MIRKWOOD

The House of Thranduil

Modern AU set in the United States (this writer is American and doesn't want to embarrass herself speaking of other countries, lol)

Fair Warning: This entire family is ridiculously accomplished in this AU, but this is clearly fictional so just ride along the fantasy with me!

Apologies for the length and infodump style--my mind really ran off with this concept!

Thranduil, The Patriarch

Businessman/CEO and 4th generation landowner.

Land ownership currently includes 1 million acres of timberland around the West Coast.

Business holdings include logging, saw mills, wineries, and forest-product manufacturing companies that employs thousands of employees.

Attended Wharton School to study business but dropped out in his third year when his father passed; (reluctantly) took over the company at 21 years old to prevent it from being seized by his father's scheming partners.

Met and fell in love with Maereth, a classmate at Wharton, but she was already in a relationship with someone else.

Continued to pursue her over the course of 10 years until they finally wed right before he turned 30.

His family home is a 2,000-acre ranch in Northwest Oregon, but he travels constantly all over the country.

During the economic downturn, saved the business and his people's livelihood by selling off a third of the family's acreage.

Refuses opportunities to expand in favor of maintaining fair wages for his employees and ethical and environmentally sound practices.

Personal hobbies include breeding and racing horses, outdoor activities, wine-collecting, and travel.

Despite rubbing elbows with powerful, rich businessmen like himself, he despises that crowd and spends only as much time with them as necessary for business.

His closest friends are the folks in his small hometown and the employees who work alongside him.

Maereth, The Matriarch

Born to a lower-middle class family from Scranton, Pennsylvania. Father was a construction laborer and mother was a part-time receptionist.

The middle child and only daughter; has 3 brothers.

Only one in her family to attend and finish college.

Practically engaged to her boyfriend at the time she met Thranduil.

Despite her rejecting Thranduil's advances and professions of love because of her existing relationship, she felt attracted to him and could not bring herself to forget him. They maintained a friendship after Thranduil dropped out of Wharton and moved back West.

Once her relationship with her boyfriend ended, Thranduil resumed courting her, but she rejected his marriage proposal out of a desire to pursue a career on her own.

Started her own company and ran it for several years before selling it at a large profit. Used the money to pay off her family's loans and help her parents retire.

Was finally won over by Thranduil's persistence and obvious devotion, and agreed to marry him.

Gave birth to their five sons over the course of a single decade.

Raised her children as a stay-at-home mom until they all reached their teens.

Currently sits on the board of the family's corporation and serves as the Chief HR Officer.

Chairs the family's private foundation that gives millions to charitable causes annually.

Is a talented crafter, craftsman, and builder, more so than her husband and most of her sons (except for Mirion), with enough skill to complete simple remodels on her own. She is the ultimate DIYer who dives eagerly into manual labor, which is one of the things Thranduil admires most in her.

Is also a successful gardener, able to keep flourishing backyard gardens that bear flowers, fruits, and vegetables of different kinds.

Spends most of her free time on endless home improvement projects or traveling as needed to visit her sons.

Mirion, eldest son - The Heir

The dutiful son who accepted his role as the eventual heir to the company. Started shadowing his father as a teen.

Married to his high school sweetheart, with whom he has two children (so far the only grandchildren of Thranduil and Maereth).

Lettered in 3 high school sports: baseball, football, and track, but discontinued sports in college to focus on academics.

Holds a degree in materials engineering from Carnegie Mellon University.

Upon marrying, settled his family at a ranch house in Oregon to stay close to his parents and majority of their holdings.

Started his own construction company that eventually became a part of the family conglomerate.

Was a stay-at-home dad for several years to allow his physician wife to return to her small town practice.

Attends many high-profile social engagements on behalf of his parents.

The ultimate dad: very involved in his kids' lives and is beloved by their friends; their home is a popular hangout for the neighborhood kids.

Constantly hit on by single moms and dads; unfortunately for them, he is singularly obsessed with his wife.

Had a very brief stint as a commercial model during his college years, and agents often suggest he return to it--but he has zero interest.

Very down-to-earth and a homebody outside of work. Leans towards introversion.

Favorite past times: DIY projects around his house, fixing up old cars, riding his horses, playing with his dogs, and having neighbors over for big backyard BBQs.

The closest thing the family has to a cowboy. The only one of his brothers to reside in a rural area and the only one besides their parents to own and keep horses.

Turhir, second-born son - The Soldier

Knew early on that he wanted to travel the world and serve his country as a soldier in the armed forces.

Enlisted in the US Navy straight out high school and became a SEAL.

Joined DEVGRU (Seal Team Six) where he became the officer of an assault squadron.

Has been in back-to-back tours of duty since his first deployment at age 19.

Has a running count of 10 combat tours, which would have been more if not for an entire year sidelined while he recovered from a serious spine injury that almost left him paralyzed.

Is quietly the most decorated Navy SEAL in history, with commendations that include two Silver Stars, three Bronze Stars, five Purple Hearts, the Navy Cross, and the highest honor: the Medal of Honor.

The perpetual nomad/couch surfer and the only brother not to own his own residence.

Was cheated on by his girlfriend while he was away on deployment. Never recovered from the heartbreak and has had no serious relationships since.

Favorite past times: Training for triathlons (running, swimming and biking), spending time with his brothers, reading novels.

Has competed in the Ironman World Championship and Badwater Ultramarathon.

Consumes paperback novels like water; buys them from used book stores and then donates to libraries afterward.

Frequently does hands-on volunteer work for charities like Habitat for Humanity and local food banks.

Suffers from PTSD and depression, which he manages with medication and regular therapy.

Absolutely detests social media and refuses to engage in any of it.

Avoids press attention like a plague. Does not attend big social functions with his family unless begged to by his mother.

Stays so far away from the limelight, the press/media sometimes forgets he is part of Thranduil's famous family.

Arvellas, middle-born son - The Genius

A bonafide genius with an IQ of 165, tested when he was only 12 years old; was subsequently accepted into Mensa.

Although he was a clearly gifted child, his mother declined to accelerate his education or place him in a different school from his brothers. She believed it was more important for him to enjoy as normal a childhood as possible.

Started college at Stanford University at the fairly typical age of 17, but completed his premed degree within two years and was a Doctor of Medicine by 26.

Not a practicing physician since he has instead devoted himself to a career in medical research, specifically in developing targeted treatments for aggressive cancers.

In addition to his MD, he holds graduate degrees in biochemistry and biophysics.

Has more trophies and accolades than all his brothers combined, all of them for intellectual achievements in various fields.

Holds over a dozen patents for different scientific devices, processes, and formulas.

A polyglot who speaks 8 foreign languages conversationally, including Spanish, Mandarin, German, Italian, French, Arabic, Hindi, and Japanese. Once he has gained fluency in one language, he immediately starts studying another.

Also speaks at least a couple of constructed languages from sci-fi/fantasy worlds.

On a dare from his younger brothers, took and aced the LSATs and was accepted to several Ivy League law schools, though he never attended.

Stays in athletic shape through biking, swimming, and playing tennis.

Reads (and collects) comics and graphic novels as often as he reads scientific journals.

Goes to at least one comic con a year as his schedule allows.

Wears a coat and tie even more frequently than his father does.

Has been with the same romantic partner for the last 5 years, but has shown no signs of getting married.

Gelir, fourth-born son - The Adventurer

A wildlife biologist and rehabilitation specialist with degrees in zoology and veterinary medicine.

Specialty is working with and rehabilitating wild mammals. His favorite animal is the wolverine, which was the first truly wild creature he had rescued and nursed back to health early in his career.

Prefers to do contract work with non-profit organizations, which enables him to continue travelling due to a a less-restrictive schedule.

Also does a lot of short-lived gig work on the side that allows him to engage in his hobbies while earning. Examples are working as a safari guide, a park ranger, or climbing instructor.

An avid (almost obsessive) outdoor adventurer who avoids spending time in cities as much as possible, and likes to explore new remote locations through camping and hiking.

A skilled climber with experience in nearly all types, including free soloing, mountaineering, and ice climbing.

A licensed scuba diver and skilled surfer and rafter. Swims like a fish.

Licensed to pilot private planes, drive motorcycles, and drive boats.

Most widely traveled member of his family, having been to every continent in the world, including Antarctica.

Only one in his family who can speak an African language (Swahili), which he likes to crow to Arvellas about.

Has made a conscious decision to keep/owns no pets, due to his frequent travels making him unable to properly care for one.

The eternal bachelor whose interest rarely goes beyond a few dates; has never been in a serious relationship and understands his restless wandering would make him a terrible boyfriend.

Was previously reluctant to put himself and his work in front of a camera, but realized (through his brother Legolas) that he can make a good amount of money by creating and posting videos on social media--money that would fund his travels and exploits.

Has been approached by major producers to host his own adventure show series, but prefers to work with independent filmmakers on legitimate documentaries.

Legolas, youngest son - The Celebrity

Professional footballer. Star striker of the US Men's National Soccer Team and the Seattle Sounders FC.

Career achievements include an Olympic bronze medal, an MLS (Major League Soccer) Cup, and a FIFA World Cup (a US first!).

The most independently wealthy of all the brothers due to multi- million dollar endorsements that include Adidas and Pepsi.

Has his own staff that includes a personal assistant, a publicist/social media manager, a private chef, and very hardworking sports agent.

A social media star with a following of 50 million in Instagram and still climbing, making him by far the most famous one in his family.

Is occasionally able to convince Gelir to do adventure/extreme sports-related videos with him, which always go viral. While Legolas does it for the fun and bonding experience, Gelir agrees to do it mostly for the money. On rarer occasions, he is able to convince Mirion to participate as well, when it has a fundraising aspect.

Diagnosed with both dyslexia and ADHD, which he manages with medication.

Aside from playing soccer and other traditional team sports, his hobbies include extreme/adventure sports such as skiing, snowboarding, windsurfing, mountain biking, skydiving, and paragliding.

Also a talented sketch and comic artist who occasionally shares his works online.

His favorite charitable activity is visiting children's hospitals, (including making sizeable donations), and has been requested several times by the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

Constantly being romantically linked to celebrities, less than half of which are actually true.

Receives a lot of attention from women and is frequently pursued by them. In all the "noise" on top of being in the public eye, he finds it challenging to find partners to genuinely fall in love with.

Tends to struggle with periods of loneliness, during which he seeks refuge in his family.

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Tolkien Headcanon tag list: @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @tamryniel @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @aduialel @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @klytemnestra13 @creativity-of-death @heilith @fizzyxcustard @absentmindeduniverse @lathalea @tamurilofrivendell @jordie-your-local-halfling @ladyk8tie @scyllas-revenge @asianbutnotjapanese @conversacomsmaug @lemonivall @ratsys @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @entishramblings @stormchaser819 @freshalmondpandadonut @beekieboo

Interested in SotWK content?

Introduction to SotWK

My Headcanon Masterlist 

My Fanfiction Masterlist

#sotwk headcanon #thranduil #thranduil headcanon #legolas #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #the elvenking #lord of the rings #tolkien #tolkien headcanons #tolkien elves #sotwk ocs #thranduilion #mirion thranduilion #turhir thranduilion #gelir thranduilion #arvellas thranduilion #lotr modern au #lee pace #jennifer connelly #henry cavill #sam heughan #rupert friend #sam claflin #orlando bloom

[melianinarda]

The Middle Earth modern AU | The Elven King’s themed fantasy Thranduil The Elvenking, the pale purple palette

#thranduil #aestheitcs #moodboard #middle earth #modern au #pale purple #colors #lee pace #interiors #elvenking #elves #edit #my edit

[aspiringnexu]

Something I find absolutely hilarious is just how different the Woodland Realm is to Lothlorien and Rivendell. It’s a difference borne of many things, of course, given that Rivendell and Lothlorien are both run by Elves with Rings of Power and Eryn Lasgalen isn’t and that Rivendell and Lothlorien are run by people related to each other (not just because of the whole shared Noldor thing) whereas Eryn Lasgalen is ruled by a royal family of Sindar and populated by Silvans. Then there’s that whole thing with the Necromancer shacking up in Dol Guldur and fucking up the forest.

But regardless I find it endlessly amusing to imagine how different the White Council would have been if Thranduil had been invited to join. Because you have Gandalf the stoned, Saruman the cantankerous bitch, Elrond the wise and reserved, and Galadriel the ridiculously ethereal who comes with her own choir back-up singers. And then enter Thranduil, Middle-Earth’s premier Dramatic Bitch with his uber fancy crown and long trailing robes lined with brilliant burnt umber satin with his massive fucking elk and enough sarcastic disdain to fill the Long-Lake.

I dunno I just find it funny that the Lord of the Rings showed us the graceful, ethereal, honestly-kinda-spooky elves and then we get the Party Master, Wine Connoisseur, Fashionista Bitch who is perfectly happy with going to war so he can get his wife’s gems back from a bunch of (honestly he’s not really wrong though at that point the main problem is Thorin) thieving dwarves in The Hobbit.

And suddenly all of Legolas’ over-the-top dramatics make sense.

#LOTR #the hobbit #thranduil #elrond #galadriel #eryn lasgalen #lothlorien #imladris #rivendell #the apple didn't fall far from the tree #it practically got reabsorbed #I like to headcanon that of course all elves like to party #but Rivendell and Lothlorien parties are like noble balls #whereas Thranduil's parties are like actual faerie revels #lots of food and wine and debauchery #not so much the making mortals dance until their feet bleed #more the fun sort of fae revel #with lots of ridiculously strong booze #has anybody done a modern AU where Eryn Lasgalen is basically Middle-Earth's Vegas? #Not quite as cheap and plastic as Vegas #but full of partying #go to Erebor for the gambling #Dale for the sexy times #and the Greenwood for the all night every night parties

[coopsgirl]

Modern Thranduil AU

Prince Thranduil walked down the palace halls until he came to the office where you worked. People were busy coming and going as usual but he found you at your desk busily typing. “Good morning your grace” you said as he approached. You had known him for years and outside of office hours you usually called him by name but you liked to maintain a certain amount of formality while carrying out your duties. “Good morning” he replied with a bright smile before he continued, “Do you have any plans for tonight?” “No” you responded. “My date cancelled for the charity ball and I know this is short notice but I thought maybe you would like to accompany me. These events can be a bit boring sometimes and it would be nice to spend the evening with a friendly face.” “I’d love to” you said with a polite smile. You didn’t have any other plans and it sounded fun to get dressed up and enjoy some wonderful cuisine. “Are you sure it’s not too much of an inconvenience?” the prince asked. “Of course not” you said reassuringly. “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up at seven.”

One of your friends had recently been married and the bridesmaid dress you had was actually beautiful and you were happy to have another opportunity to wear it. As you were getting ready you thought about something the prince had said about being happy to have a friendly face at the party. Wouldn’t most of his friends also be there? Couldn’t he have asked one of his female friends? You put it out of your mind and had just put on the finishing touch, a spray of sweet, floral perfume, when the doorbell rang. You opened it to see Thranduil dressed in a beautiful tuxedo and smiling at you in a way he never had before. There was a look in his eyes that suddenly made you realize he hadn’t been completely honest with you. “You look so beautiful” he said as he took you hand and gently kissed your knuckles. “Thank you. You look very handsome as well” you said as your cheeks blush. You took his arm as he walked you to the limousine and opened the door for you. There was a bottle of chilled champagne and two glasses waiting for you while soft, romantic music was playing on the radio. “I’m beginning to think I was not your second choice” you said with a sly smile as he poured a glass and handed it to you. “You are correct” he said a bit shyly. “I hope you don’t mind the deception.” “I do not” you said now with a big beaming smile as you both clinked your glasses and took a sip of the sweet champagne. “I do believe this will be a night to remember” he said in his rich, warm voice causing you to smile again in anticipation of what was to come.  

#modern au thranduil #thranduil modern au #thranduil #prince thranduil #thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil fic #thranduil one shot #tolkien fic #lee pace #happy valentines day

[nocompromise-noregrets]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Thranduil Characters: Bard the Bowman, Thranduil (Tolkien), Hilda Bianca Additional Tags: First Meetings, (sort of), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Heavy Metal Series: Part 1 of Barduil Month 2024 Summary:

Loading in for an all-dayer, Bard spots Menegroth's new singer and is thoroughly distracted. Little does he know that his distraction is very much reciprocated...

This is an entirely insufficient birthday fic for the incomparable @scary-grace  - the muses did not quite cooperate enough to get the two of them actually exchanging words (or anything else XD ) but I am hopeful for a little bit more later on this week! Hope you're having a fantastic day! <333333

This is also the first of my contributions for Barduil Month 2024 over at @bi-widower-dads (come and join us!) - this week's theme is 'first meetings'. Annnnddddd it's the first, chronologically speaking, in the series I still haven't actually collected into a series, which I began last Barduil Month with Yesterday, A Hundred Years Ago...Bard and Thranduil are both in their twenties here, and it takes place in the early 1990s.

It is also, would you believe it, the HUNDREDTH fic I have written featuring these two as a pairing! *streamers*

#lotr #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #bard the bowman #thranduil #barduil #bard/thranduil #modern au #barduilmonth2024

[dogblessyoutascha]

@bi-widower-dads

Barduil Month Day 5: Family!

When his wife died giving birth to their third child, Bard Bowman knew then and there what he had to tell his eldest two. He knew who he had to call to help him take care of them so that there was never a slip during the grieving process. He even knew what to do when his newborn daughter, Tilda, was too sickly to come home.

If Bard Bowman didn’t know something, he certainly came to expect it. He worked nights so that he could cook breakfast for his family, spend the day in the Pediatric ICU with Tilda, pick up Sigrid and Bain from school, cook everyone dinner, and then start it all over again the next day. So on and so forth.

Every once in a while, Tilda was allowed to go home. She would never be home for very long, but she got to go home.

For months this continued — Bard Bowman growing ever more exhausted. Ever more determined. His kids kept him going (and so did someone else).

It was the one thing Bard Bowman never knew and never expected: That he would slip into an easy, comfortable love with one Dr. Thranduil Oropherion, the head of the pediatric unit where Tilda spent most of her days. They experienced her firsts together — and it was there, watching Tilda find her strength with Thranduil at his side and Bain and Sigrid by their feet, that they realized they had become a family. It wasn’t the four of them, Bard, Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda any more.

It was the five of them.

#dogblessyoutaschart #barduil #barduilmonth2023 #the hobbit #modern au #bard the bowman #thranduil #tilda

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Caged birds with broken wings

Chapter 2

A/n: I've made chapter 2, enjoy :).

Chapter 1

I was having the same dream again; I was light in thin air. My movements were fluid as if there were no gravity to keep my legs grounded. My right leg stayed in place whilst my left leg was raised, turning inward toward my supporting leg. I spun over and over without the slightest feeling of light-headedness or dizziness. No matter where I moved, the gold plate within the birdcage did not shatter. My arms raised in mid-position as I extended my left leg, hoping to free myself from this prison eventually. My chest felt light; my mind had no fear, even within this cage. I felt the quick flashes of wind touch my face with every motion. I wanted to spread my wings. I wanted to be free. I wanted to be released from my cage. I wanted to reach the world outside. I. wanted. to. Fly. The same spinning visage of the golden bars occurred repeatedly, experiencing the same routine. The golden plate never shattered beneath me, holding my weight. A sense of comfort washed over me, as though seeing the same scenery brought ease to my mind. As I spun, I felt a surge of adrenaline to try something different, to spin in the other direction, to break the dance routine. I tried to push my arms down and lower my left leg. To no avail did my body react; I still spun. The second time, I pushed my arms down slightly harder, yet again to no avail did my body react. The third time, I pushed even harder, the pressure becoming uncomfortable; despite myself spinning, I pushed more not giving up. I pushed—spinning more—I pushed—spinning further—I pushed harder—I can feel the pain rising—I. just. need. to. push. harder. I could feel my face flinching from the pain rising in my limbs going against the force keeping me dancing. Eventually, with one final push, I yelled out, falling to my front as my arms moved to prevent my face from hitting the ground. I breathed heavily, in and out, as my body lay on the ground. Hair strands poked out from the once neatened bun as sweat slid down my face. The final scene panned out to witness me lying there, still, static, trapped within the golden bird cage.

My eyes opened as my vision tried to adjust to make sense of my reality. Once again, it was a nightmare or inspiration. I placed my hands on my face, rubbing my eyes awake; it’s not the first time my sleep schedule has gone off. Once my eyes had adjusted, I noticed I was at my desk with my computer opened from this morning. As my hand ran along my head, I felt something attached to my forehead—paper. I ripped it off, holding it in front of me, realising it was a character sheet for the fae queen, Aelwynn. How late did I stay up last night? I must’ve been writing the first chapter; I recall updating something—huh? On the sheet containing Aelwynn, I noticed her hair was white. I didn’t recall colouring her, but I couldn’t exactly remember what happened last night. As I examined her hair, my finger ran down the traced lines. I quickly grabbed my pencil, drawing extra features of her appearance and outfit. As the pencil traced the outline, it turned into a white gown flowing in motion with the wind as she held a staff made of the oldest oak and decorated in diamonds and quarts. To top it off, I added a crown placed at the back, with pointed edges facing up made from silvery steel. As my hand holding the pencil came off the page, I stopped to glance at her new design. My eyes lit up with amazement as my lips became agape; I was in utter awe of my new creation. Yes! This! This is Aelwynn, the way I wanted to interpret her, an otherworldly beauty that’s kind and graceful, how a true fae queen should look!

However, my eyes glance over to another piece of paper to the side, one depicting a rough sketch of Sarek, my expression nearly dropped. I had figured out Aelwynn, but I’ve yet to figure out how to design the Pirate King. I placed the rough sketch into the pile of papers and neatly folded them on my computer desk. Glancing at the computer, I saw the first few pages written within the document, and the pages went into detail regarding the first drafts. The first couple of chapters read of the pair's first encounter crossing paths: The fae queen danced around the forest alone on an island untouched by man, guarded by heavy forces of magic. She protected the will of fairies and the sources of time. One day, the shield guarding the forest broke. A band of corsairs slashed their way through the dense greenery in search of a plethora of magic jewels. Instead, what they stumbled upon was worth much more than any coffer full of gold or silver. Standing in front of Sarek’s gaze was a woman draped in white, her hair of silver and skin of ice. She danced with the younger fairies of the forest. In his greed, he was smitten; he ordered his men to take her and everything she had. She fell prey. Tears shed down her smooth cheek; she pleaded ‘to take her instead, leave her domain in peace, and they shall be granted with what they desired most’. They complied with her request, binding her in rope, leading her into a world not of her own. She gazed into the eyes of a man whose greed was far more than his ambition; his appearance was—

I jolted from my seat upon hearing my phone’s ringtone; looking at the number, I recognised it was my mum. I picked up the phone, holding it to my ear. I was expecting a ‘Hello, aren’t you going to tell me about your day?’  or ‘You didn’t ring me yesterday; how did you go?’.

I picked up the phone with a “Hi—mo—uh mom”, I said with a slight stutter.

“Y/n, oh, it’s good to hear your voice; I was nearly worried you weren’t going to pick up yesterday,” she said in a high-engaging tone.

“Yeah, sorry I was bus—”.

“So? How was it?” She sounded excited, yet I forgot what happened.

“Was what?” I replied, confused.

“The ballet lessons, the one you attended yesterday.” Once I remembered, the thought sank in; I hadn’t told her these were private lessons.

“O-oh, the lessons, yeah, it’s excellent; I’ve made many connections already.” My lips curved into a smile, trying to make my voice sound sincere.

“Excellent! See what I told you? You're already shining brightly”. I smiled to myself; hearing her words made me feel heartened.

“So, tell me, what’s the instructor like? Is he supportive of you? I know you have trouble speaking to people, and I want to make sure—”

“He’s fine, Mom. He’s—” I pause for a moment, thinking back to the time I met him in that room alone. When our eyes met, I didn’t flinch nor look away. His eyes were like ice, and his hair was like snow; it ignited something I hadn’t remembered in a long time.

“Different.” That was all I could respond with.

“Is he cute?” She asked. I nearly flushed with embarrassment, feeling my cheeks red like a beet.

“What?! N-No! N-not in that way” Where did that come from? Did she really expect me to say yes?

“Oh, I suppose he might be too old for you; what about the guys in your class? Are they any good-looking?” she responded.

“I don’t know; I hadn’t noticed.” I wanted to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“Oh, hm, well, what about the girls? Surely there are some good-looking girls there too”.

“W-What!” I was flabbergasted.

“I’d be accepting either way—”.

I replied, “Currently, I’m—fine with just me, myself and I”.

 That answer had seemed to satisfy her for now.

“Oh, well—of course, if that’s what you're happy with, I’m just happy you're getting out there and speaking to someone. That’s a massive achievement, and I’m so proud of you for that!” she sounded happy, at least.

I sighed deeply. “Thank you”.

“Baby steps, that’s all it takes”, was her final response before I hung up the phone. Sometimes, despite them being my parents, I stumble over my words, even speaking over the phone.

I sighed, gazing at the time. I had no idea that my first lesson was only for an hour. I wouldn’t mind being there early; it was better than falling asleep. What am I saying? I’d much rather sleep! I recall Mr. Oropherion saying he wished me to be there precisely during the seventh hour. Man, the way he phrased it was weird. I quickly rose from my desk, grabbed what I needed, grabbed my car keys, and changed into yesterday's outfit. I should probably stop by to find a leotard, a tutu, or even a pair of pointe shoes. Once I was prepared, I dashed to the car. Making my way through the door leading outside, the cold air hit me; the temperature must’ve dropped vastly since it was dark out. It was nearly seven, after all. To my stupidity, I forgot to park the car inside. Shit, shit, shit, the cars frosted. I panicked, quickly running back inside to grab my parker, zipping it up and then wrapping a scarf around me in the not-so-neatest way possible. I rushed into the kitchen and opened the lower drawer beneath my stove to grab the pan with a deep bottom. I turned on the water quickly, adjusting the temperature to lukewarm. I filled the pan, aiming to get it as full as possible. I tried to walk slowly yet hastily without spilling the water; once outside, I made my way to the car windows, pouring the water slowly. Each one dissolved; I was careful, at least, to make sure it wasn’t hot. I used the sleeve of my parker to rub away what remained of the frost. The frost hadn’t wholly dissolved, but it was enough to see. Quickly, I ran back inside to place the pan back on my kitchen bench. Shit, oh shit, oh shit, I’m going to be late! Coming out of my house, I made it to the car, yet I forgot to lock the front door—I pressed my hands against my forehead, feeling the stupidity rise within me. I sloshed through the snow, heading to the front door to lock it and then back to the car door.

I finally entered and opened the white car door, thank God. I backed out of the parking lot and drove toward where I needed to go. As I drove down, the snow fell heavily, and buildings passed by, turning to blurry visions as I drove further into the distance. It took half an hour to get there, but at least I would make it, I hope. I went to the same car park I had parked in yesterday and turned off the engine. As I got out, I saw many buildings covered in snow. I took a second to look into the sky, feeling the tiny snowflakes touch my face. “Beautiful”, I muttered. I held out my hand; I wanted to feel it; to touch the fragile beauty. As one dropped from the sky, it landed perfectly in my hand. I curled my fingers, feeling the flake melt within my grasp. Such beauty yet fragility. I opened my hand to see it dissolved; my eyes softened at the sight. I can understand; if I were to fall freely, speak my mind, and show my true self, even if someone touched me, I’d melt within their grasp.

Suddenly, I heard someone’s footsteps behind me emitted with a laugh. I turned my head to see the on-coming sight of two ballerinas draped in blue and pink leotards topped with jackets. I recognised them from the class I accidentally stumbled into yesterday. I quickly turned my head, shut the car door, and began to walk briskly. I didn’t want to speak with them, not after how I made a fool of myself. My head lowered into the scarf as I looked down, trying to avoid eye contact. Hopefully, they’ll ignore me. I got to the entrance just in time, or so I thought; I could hear them trailing behind. In a panic, I opened the entrance glass door to the dance studio, walking swiftly up the stairs to where I needed to be. Whilst I walked up the stairs, I could hear them speaking; I didn’t tune in, keeping to myself and focusing on getting to the floor I needed to be. My legs picked up the pace as I heard them walking up. As I got to the fifth floor, I peeked over the side of the staircase railing. I could only see the top of their heads, one brunette and the other raven. I sighed deeply to myself; I realized I lied to Mom. I hated doing that, but—it made her happy in ignorance. Out of curiosity, I attempted to speak out to them, to say hello; perhaps then, I could feel proud of myself. “H-h-hi”, I uttered in a whisper. But before I knew it, they were gone; I was too late.

I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t speak. Why was it so damn hard? Why am I so afraid to show them—me? I could feel the tears prickling the corners of my eyes.

I rubbed the corner of my eyes, letting out a sniff. I needed to be strong, at least for the time being. As Mom said, ‘It’s just baby steps; that’s all it takes.’ I took a deep breath in and exhaled; I made my way toward the empty dance studio I was before. It was nice and quiet, peaceful even, I couldn’t hear anyone. I unzipped my parker and took off my shoes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the windows with blue curtains pulled over them. I wandered over toward the curtains hiding the tall glass windows. My hand reached out, feeling the cotton edge, I slowly pulled the blue curtains to the side. Looking outside, I was in awe; it showed the snowfall. As the tiny flakes gently fell against the window’s glass, I listened, hearing the gentle tapping against the glass. I backed up to the middle of the room, my train of thought departing as I watched the wonderous sight before me.

Suddenly, I heard a stern voice from behind my shoulder. “You're late”.

I quickly turned, only to notice Mr. Oropherion appear out of nowhere. Seriously, was he lurking around the corner watching me this whole time? Are there secret entrances so that he can purposefully remind me?

“I-I, apologies, Mr. Oropherion, I—” Damn it, I can’t even gather my words!

“You’re precisely five minutes past the hour; I presume you have a gift for tardiness”, he spoke coldly.

Is he serious? Why is he treating me as if I’m an hour late? Don’t tell me I’m in trouble for only being five minutes late.

My eyes narrowed, and I could feel my breath slowing down. I didn’t make eye contact with him, but I could hear his footsteps walking from behind me.

“We begin with the simple plie, a simple move you can surely manage,” he said in a clear, deep voice.

My head stooped low; I could only see his feet moving toward the barre attached to the mirrors. I followed suit, raising my left arm and gripping the wooden barre. “Start bending your knees; move your right foot over here” He placed his leg next to the side of my foot, pushing it gently into the correct position. I didn’t pull my leg away, even though I wanted to. As he corrected it, I gazed down, still avoiding eye contact. As I was in position, I closed my eyes, trying to bend my knees and drown out the idea of someone behind me. “No, you’re bending too far”, he softly muttered. As he approached, my breathing grew heavier. He didn't seem to notice, but I felt my chest rise and fall deeply. I froze in place, not knowing what to do. I didn’t want to look at him; I didn’t want to look up. I didn’t want to show him me! I muttered in a whisper, “P-please d-don—”. I felt his hands touch my waist lightly to guide me.

However, I yelled, stumbling back.

I felt like a deer in headlights; my eyes widened as I gasped for air. Mr. Oropherion stared in confusion, more-so, bewilderment; his hands were left hovering. “You do realise my intent was not of ill purpose; do not mistake me for one with a sickening mind”, he spoke cautiously, not wanting to increase the situation.

I covered my face with my hands, feeling foolish. My head stooped low, wanting to hide my tearful gaze. “I’m so sorry. Oh god, I thought I could do this, but I can’t. I’m so afraid, I’m so afraid.”

He approached slowly, maintaining his icy gaze. “Afraid of what?” he questioned in an austere manner.

“Speaking—talking—Showing myself to the world”, my voice cracked.

“I—'m afraid of what they’ll think, of what they’ll see”, I admitted.

He stayed silent, just as I suspected; he wasn’t fazed. I mean, why should he be? After all, I’m just a random person he met a day ago, someone spewing out all this inner turmoil.

I didn’t expect him to respond, and his answer wasn’t what I expected.

“We are not all born with perfection; there are those of us who have been bruised by imperfection. If you dwell too much in fear, it will overtake you, sending afoul things within your mind to come forth and surface. Whether you wish to remain trapped within it or face it to make a difference, is your decision,” he advised.

Even though his words weren’t the most comforting, he held a point. The first time I saw him yesterday, I gazed into the eyes of a man who rekindled a moment I thought was lost. A time I didn’t live in fear, a time I could look into the eyes of another being and speak freely. If I could do it then, I can do it now.

I lifted my hands away from my face, revealing my sorrowful eyes—the eyes of a fearful bird. I turned to his gaze, trying not to look down, showing my irises. His narrowed eyes slightly raised. I stood upright as my breaths slowed. My almond eyes relaxed at the sight of him. Perhaps, if I aim to speak to him again like before, I can train myself to speak to others. I took the time to gather the words I wanted to say. Inhaling slowly, I spoke the words I wanted to say. “M-Mr Oropherion, I d-don’t want to be a-afraid anymore, I w-want to be free”.

His icy eyes lowered. “Well, well, it seems the little bird has learnt to spread her wings once more; however, little bird, you shan’t take flight just yet, for it will take time to heal your wounds, but I shall teach you”.

I inhaled deeply, allowing myself to grab hold of the barre and stand straight. I tried to bend my knees again, yet he wasn’t satisfied. He moved closer to guide me; this time, my head turned to meet his gaze. His hands hovered just where my waist was. I maintained eye contact for a moment before turning to the front as if permitting him. His slender hands touched my waist lightly; I could feel him pushing me up only slightly and then down. “Hold that position; ensure that your knees are bent until they are over your thumbs.” He muttered. I could feel the pressure of trying to keep my balance.

“This next move is a Grande plie. Lower yourself and lift your heels off the ground.” His hands gently pushed me lower on the ground, my heels lifted slightly as I was told. As he lowered me, I glanced into the mirror, falling silent.

I saw my eyes with eyebags beneath them, the same hair falling to my shoulders, and my lips; however, this time, something was different. Something changed. Something made a difference. In the mirror, there were two, two people.

A small smile faintly formed on my lips.

For once, I wasn’t alone.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil #the hobbit #thranduil fanfic #the hobbit au #modern thranduil #modern thranduil au #thranduil x you #the hobbit x reader #thranduil oropherion x reader #thranduil oropherion #thranduil fluff #thranduil angst

[nighttimepatrons]

my sister and I have been talking about Thranduil and his wife waaaay too much as of late so of course i had to draw her!

Does she have an actual name? or at lease a fanon name? because we Cannot keep calling her Mrs. Thranduil for ever 😭

just a fast little drawing done on paper and then colored in csp

EDIT: after i posted this i looked it up and it seems like her fanon name might be Calathiel. so based if true? But i would still love to hear other name suggestions and ideas for her :)

#i love her your honor #i'm not ever sure what tag to use #the hobbit #Calathiel #lotr #queen of mirkwood #elves #mrs. thranduil #thranduil's wife #??? #is there a tag for her??? i don't know #my art #middle earth #twdd AU #modern au #art #csp

[meadowsofmay]

modern barduil x aralas mafia!au

modern mafia!au, in which thranduil is the semi-new chief of one of the local mafia clans that was almost destroyed a while ago, and which he has been clandestinely restoring back to its original "glory" for a little while now. he is cold, calculated and set to bring vengeance to whoever almost cut out his bloodline, his history and his people.

modern mafia!au, in which bard is thranduil's most loyal dog. his right hand. his voice of orders. and his most passionate lover, tangled in the sheets of thranduil's bed. bard does most of the dirty work just because he can, he follows thranduil on meetings like a threatening shadow as if thranduil isn't menacing enough by himself.

but and it almost always cracks him up when people, in their last moments, spit angrily that thranduil is using him as if thranduil isn't neck deep in blood and mud himself. well, to be fair, none of those who experienced this side of thranduil can spread the word. but bard can. and he will. carefully, strategically and intentionally.

modern mafia!au, in which legolas is thranduil's only son, the most cherished and loved, but the one who grew up to have a character and aspirations like his father. legolas wanted to be by his side and help, which thranduil did not appreciate openly, too used to be scared for his son's life. yet still, he let legolas train with bard, monitoring carefully his progress in combat and realizing with dread that his son is about to be more fierce that the father.

modern mafia!au, in which aragorn is an on a run heir to the head of another clan that was taken over by the stronger force, much like thranduil's. unknown to most, he had been searching for people who can get on his side and building a literally army. that's how he met legolas who terrifyingly fast became his shield, his shotgun, his councilor and his soul partner.

and fast enough, legolas realized that when he is with aragorn, he is growing to be more like bard rather than his father.

#there are way too many thoughts in my head #like thranduil is most probably extremely overprotective over bard and legolas WHILE sending them to do the most dangerous job of all #but bard be having the best fucking sex when thranduil goes down on him #because bard got hurt again and thranduil is mad but he is about to FUCK INTO HIS HEAD AND BODY THAT NO BARD YOU CAN'T JUMP ON BULLETS #legolas and bard sparring. #that's it. that's the thought. #also bard practicing with legolas in gun shooting #legolas teaching aragorn to shoot The Right Way #no teaching is done they're fucking in shooting gallery #aragorn is like hella chill but there's an unhinged rage in his eyes #bard is does unhinged stuff but his face is so calm and well tired most of the time #mafia au #modern au #barduil #aralas #thranduil oropherion #bard the bowman #legolas greenleaf #aragorn son of arathorn #lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr headcanons #the hobbit headcanons #may thinks thoughts