Caffinated-and-sleepy - Sleepy

Amazing work as usual!

Haunting Me

[Legolas/F!Reader]

A.N: I have been struggling to write (like usual), so I figured I would whip out a no pressure Legolas fic. ANYWAYS, I strangely loved writing this!!! Thanks for the request XOXO

Request: @goose-gremlin — “Could you maybe do a Legolas x Reader on their period?”

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is a member of Greenwood's Guard and is struggling with menstrual/period pain. Legolas takes care of her.

Disclaimer: I don't know elvish. I use the gracious elvish dictionary. Sue me lol

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: blood, menstruation/period, pain, PMS, slight nakedness (not anything spicy you filthy fools), fluff, sweet precious elf boy

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

(Y/N)’s nose twitched, the pungent, musty scent of the incoming vile beasts invaded the fresh earthy tones of the Greenwood forest. Her keen ears picked up on subtle scurrying, the sound carried by the drift of the soft wind. Her jaw clenched and her fingers adjusted the grasp of her sword as she felt the aura of the trees shift—a surge of adrenaline fueling her anxiety, worsening the pain in her abdomen. Briefly locking eyes with the other elves in her sector, spread among the trees alert and ready, she knew their moment of action was imminent.

(Y/N) summoned the little energy she had through a deep inhale, praying to the Valar that these spiders wouldn't be in such a frenzied state. Because, if so, fuck that. For at the present moment in time, she really didn't have the capacity to deal with that absolute, motherfucking horseshit.

Because, truly, getting killed due to slowness from fatigue and cramps from one’s bloodmoon cycle would be rather unfortunate and deeply regrettable. However, facing expulsion from the guard and losing her reputation as one of the hand-picked defenders of the royal line because of it would be even worse.

(Y/N)’s gaze narrowed as Prince Legolas, leader of the Greenwood Guard, raised a closed fist.

Nêl (Three).

Tâd (Two).

Mîn (One).

He opened his palm, signaling the command: Kill them. Kill them all.

With a firm thud, (Y/N)'s boots landed on the soft soil as she sprung from the trees. She was quick with her blade, hunting the spiders as if they were meaningless prey. Her weapon was an extension of her form. Every movement was fluid and graceful, a testament to her mastery of combat. Despite her pain, she spun and twisted with ease, severing the arachnids' limbs effortlessly.

As she fought, she made sure to keep an eye on the Prince, knowing that if anything were to happen to Legolas under her watch, the king would surely banish her. Besides, she harbored no desire for him to meet his demise. She found him rather…admirable. Nothing more than that—of course not.

As (Y/N) advanced upon one of the vile beasts, her senses tingled with warning. Abruptly, she halted in her tracks, narrowly dodging an arrow that whizzed past her stomach. Her eyes narrowed as she wiped her head to see just who fired that arrow. A scoff escaped her lips as she locked eyes with him: Rekón.

When the battle came to an end, (Y/N) strutted towards Rekón, who was wiping the edge of his blade upon his thigh.

“What the hell was that out there?!” She snapped at him.

“What is it you speak of?”

“You nearly put an arrow in me!”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, you should have been faster, Shadowfoot.”

She scoffed at Greenwood’s nickname for her. “You're lucky I am fast. I can assume you don’t want elven blood on your hands—especially my blood.

He sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. “Don’t exaggerate, (Y/N). It’s unbecoming. Besides,” he leaned in and his voice lowered, taking on a snarky tone, “I don't care if you're handpicked by the King to be the Prince’s shadow, you're a pain in the ass.”

“Really, Otuuk Fe`Saign (warg kisser)?! I could have you and your ass in the mud faster than you could say—”

The rather tense interaction was interrupted by Legolas clearing his throat beside the pair. “What is going on over here?” he demanded.

(Y/N) huffed, not taking her eyes off the man before her. “Rekón here nearly redecorated my abdomen with a fucking arrow!”

The Prince sighed. “You know we can’t always calculate every motion on the battlefield, (Y/N). I am sure Rekón meant no harm.” He paused, turning his attention to the ellon. “Rekón, in the future, mind your arrows.”

“That’s the reprimand he gets?! Are you fu—“

Legolas looked at the elleth. “Watch your language, Shadowfoot. I expect this attitude to be gone by the time we enter my father’s halls.”

With that, Legolas walked away, calling out orders to burn the spider carcasses and move out.

As he disappeared into the mess of elves, (Y/N)’s brows pulled downward in a grumpy frown. “Princeling Ass,” she murmured to herself.

Unbeknownst to her, as she turned away, Legolas' gaze followed her, seeking out her form and lingering as she walked away.

….

The sun had not yet risen when the Prince’s sector of the Greenwood Guard arrived back in the Palace. The warriors dispersed into the armory, diligently stowing their weapons and armor in their designated places. (Y/N), however, did no such thing. Instead, with a persistent scowl etched on her face, she marched through the room and passed through the arched exit of the armory—presumably heading towards her chambers. Legolas's gaze tracked her suspiciously as she departed.

As the day progressed, the members of the Prince’s sector resumed their usual routines. Because it was their first day back from patrol, they were exempt from basic guard duties and standard positions. Instead, they utilized the early hours of the morning to bathe and rejuvenate themselves before gathering in the dining hall for breakfast. The remainder of the day was theirs to unwind and compile their patrol reports—the King sought to stay informed about all occurrences and perspectives during patrols, for a darkness seemed to be spreading among his trees.

At supper, Legolas moved among the tables in the dining hall, gathering last-minute reports from the warriors in his sector. As he did so, he scanned the long wooden benches, searching for the scowling gaze that had accompanied the last couple of days of patrol; however, there was no such gaze and no such person that it belonged to. Simply put, there was no sign of (Y/N).

She had missed all three meals and had failed to submit her patrol report.

Legolas cleared his throat before he addressed the elves from whom he was collecting papers. “Have you seen Shadowfoot? I need her report,” he inquired.

They shook their heads, more interested in their food than one missing shadow.

Legolas sighed, but refrained from pressing further. If anyone knew her whereabouts, they would have mentioned it.

Therefore, he made his way to her quarters.

When he arrived, he knocked softly on the door, but was met with silence.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying through the wooden barrier.

Still, there was no response.

After a moment’s hesitation, Legolas reached for the door knob and twisted it slowly. The wood swung open quietly under his touch, exposing the darkness of the room beyond. Moonlight filtered in through the opened window, casting shadows that danced across the floor, the curtains billowing gently in the cold night air.

Legolas carefully stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him. As he took in his surroundings further, surprise crossed his features. He didn't know what he had been expecting since he hadn't been in (Y/N)’s quarters, but it most certainly was not this.

The room was a complete mess. Clothing lay strewn about, along with various trinkets—small hand-carved boxes, beautiful natural rocks, and melted candles absent of flame. Several stacks of books were piled beside the bed, a few of them open and their pages still. Her weapons were scattered haphazardly, some resting on the floor, others on the table or atop the dresser. Legolas even noticed a few knives embedded into the wooden door—a sight that would surely displease Ada.

It was chaotic but calm in a sort of strange way. Typical for (Y/N), he supposed.

The Prince moved to walk further into the room, but was quickly halted against his will. His foot had gotten caught and, if it wasn't for his swift reflexes, he would have face-planted upon the stone flooring.

Legolas sucked in a sharp breath as he stabilized his form. Glancing down, he discovered the culprit—a crumpled tunic tangled around his boot, its fabric caught between the lacings.

He immediately sighed in dismay.

The blond-haired Prince reached down to untangle the stubborn garment. It proved to be a more challenging task than he had anticipated, requiring a few moments of quiet curses and annoyed grunts before he managed to free himself. Carefully, he folded the fabric and placed it upon a nearby chair.

Cautiously, he advanced to the large bed. At first, he could not spot the warrior within, given that the fluffy comforter and mountain of pillows were blocking his view. However, when he pulled back the blankets slightly, sure enough, she was buried deep within. The pillows were arranged around her like a protective nest and she was laying on her side. Her hair was splattered across the cushioned fabric and her expression was…one of pain. Her brows were pulled tight, her nose crinkled, and lips slightly parted.

At this, Legolas frowned, for he was now troubled deeply.

Diligently, the Prince reached out to brush some hair from her face, but just as his fingers made contact with her cheek, his action was interrupted.

(Y/N) suddenly sat up, a knife in hand. With wild eyes, she tried to slam it into his carotid artery.

He reacted quickly, Legolas intercepted her arm, preventing the blade from reaching its target. For a moment, they both froze in that tense position, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they processed what was happening.

(Y/N) was breathing quickly and she appeared very disheveled and confused. It seemed to take her a moment longer to grasp the situation fully.

"Jukkete (fuck)," she breathed out, trying to catch her breath before snapping at him. "Legolas, I almost killed you!"

The Prince still held her wrist. “(Y/N),” he began, “Are you alright?”

She huffed. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that, Princeling!" With a sharp twist, she pulled away from his grasp and settled back into the blankets. “What are you doing here?”

He raised his brows. “Princeling?” he questioned, a hint of amusement in his tone.

(Y/N) only grunted in response.

He sighed. “No one has seen you all day and—“ his sentence abruptly halted as he noticed a red stain upon the comforter. “(Y/N), you are bleeding!” He exclaimed. Without hesitation, he grasped at the blankets, in an attempt to detangle her form from them, as he continued his babbling of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured on patrol?!”

“Legolas,” she interrupted, her voice firm.

“Is it from Rekón’s arrow?! I thought you said he ‘nearly’ hit you?”

“Legolas,” she tried again.

He yanked the blanket further.” Because I swear to the Valar if it was from him, I will—“

“Legolas! Stop!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not injured.”

His jaw clenched in frustration. “(Y/N), I have been a warrior for all my life, I know the site of blood. That is blood. You cannot lie to me. I am your sector leader, your Prince—“

“Legolas! It’s my bloodmoon cycle!” she interrupted, sitting up to glare at him once more.

An awkward silence settled into the dark room.

“You are in pain,” he stated.

“I’m fine.”

His brows raised again. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you're a princeling ass,” she retorted.

“No. Because for the last three days of patrol, your demeanor has been notably irritable, as you are now. You've been favoring your left side, your jaw has remained tightly clenched, and your skin a shade too pale. Not to mention, you've consistently had your hand on your hip, I'm assuming in an attempt to try and alleviate discomfort, and you even vomited behind a tree on two occasions. And, here you are, Shadowfoot, in bed, sleeping the day away in dirty clothes and not caring that you lay in blood.” He paused before finalizing his evidence. “You are in pain.”

“You have been spying on me?! I am supposed to be your shadow.”

“I have been keeping an eye on you,” he clarified.

“Why?!”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Because you are a member of my sector. You are my responsibility.”

“You are my responsibility,” she corrected.

He released hot air from his nose. “I am required to keep an eye on all of my warriors, whether they were hand-picked to guard me or not.”

(Y/N) huffed, shaking her head. “Did you know Sethna took a pretty nasty hit to her leg?”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” he gruffed.

“Legolas, did you know about it or not?”

A rather long moment of silence extended into the night before the Prince reluctantly responded in a low tone. “No.”

“Then you don't watch every warrior like you watch me.”

He inhaled slowly, trying to steer the conversation away from what (Y/N) was insinuating. “Is Sethna alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.”

Legolas nodded slowly, before returning to the main topic. “Why didn't you tell me you were in pain while on patrol?”

She rolled her eyes before muttering his name. “Legolas.”

“Why haven't you seen a healer?” he persisted.

She exhaled slowly, knowing Legolas wasn't going to let this go. “Because the healers document everything, and those records get attached to evaluations.”

“So?”

“So, I would be dismissed from the guard and relieved of my position!” she snapped.

He snorted lightly. “You would not be dismissed from the guard nor relieved of your position.”

“Others have gotten so for far less!”

Surprising her, his normally collected tone turned into a rough reply. “That doesn't mean that you would have!”

She frowned, her once loud voice now subdued. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He sent her a warning look, his eyes cautioning her against probing further.

Silence reigned for a third time that night before Legolas spoke softly. “Rest. I will draw you a bath.”

“Princeling, I do not need you to draw me a bath. I do not need a bath at all. Like I said, I am fine.”

He shook his head. “You are in pain. Let me help you.”

“Legolas–”

He cut her off. “(Y/N), do not try to argue with me on this. That is an order. Shadow or not, I am your superior and you will listen.”

With that, he stood and made his way into the bathing chambers, leaving the elleth alone with her thoughts.

She let out a slow, contemplative exhale before sinking back into the embrace of the bed once more. Lost in a haze of exhaustion, she must have drifted into a brief slumber, for it was only moments later that Legolas returned, his thumb brushing against her cheek. His voice, barely above a whisper, reached her ears. “(Y/N),” he urged softly. “Come. The water is hot. It will alleviate your pain.”

Groggily, she opened her eyes, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow.

“Come,” he repeated.

Gradually, she sat upwards, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, praying to the Valar for the pain to settle.

“If the pain is too much, I can carry you,” Legolas offered in a gentle tone.

She scoffed, her eyes opening to glare at him. “I can manage on my own.”

With that declaration, (Y/N) stood up and took a few cautious steps forward. But before she could proceed further, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as the agony surged through her body, causing her to double over.

A comforting warmth enveloped her lower back as Legolas placed a reassuring hand there. He remained silent, respecting her pace and refraining from pressing his earlier offer.

A small whimper escaped her lips, tears threatening to escape from her eyes.

Legolas’ hand began to move in soft circles. “It will pass, Shadowfoot. I am here,” he whispered.

Slowly, she resumed her movement, inching her way towards the bathroom. Upon reaching the basin's edge, she gripped onto the sides tightly. She squeezed her lids shut once more, focusing on her breath.

Standing only inches behind her, Legolas spoke softly. “(Y/N), please, will you let me assist you? I hate to see you suffer.”

She exhaled through her nose, seemingly debating his offer. After a moment of contemplation, she relented. “Fine,” she stated, “but if you breathe a word of this—”

“I will not say a thing. I swear it,” he assured.

She nodded, accepting his promise.

“Let's get you undressed and in the bath then.”

With caution, his nimble fingers found the hem of her tunic and began to lift it over her head. Ensuring her stability by placing one hand gently on her hip, he then carefully guided her trousers downward, assisting her as she stepped out of them. Shaking slightly, she lifted each foot into the tub, one at a time, as the Prince's firm hand remained securely on her waist. Slowly, she lowered herself into the water, his touch barely trailing up her back as she descended. Her eyes closed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips, settling into the soothing heat of the water.

Legolas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will just be in the other room. Call out if you need me.”

She simply hummed in response.

The Prince swiftly left the bathing room, making his way to the door leading to the hallway. Peering out, he caught sight of a maid. He called out to her and motioned for her to approach.

“Yes, my lord?” she inquired politely.

“I need you to fetch a new set of bedding and obtain the following herbs: valerian, boswellia, and athelas,” he instructed.

She nodded in understanding.

“And please, keep it discreet. I have an injured warrior in here who wishes for the injury to remain quiet.”

The maid nodded once more before hurrying off to fulfill his requests.

Legolas returned to the room, feeling the cool breeze from the open window once more. With determined strides, he crossed the space and closed it firmly, halting the chill from entering any longer. He then took to light some of the candles, casting a warm glow within the room before moving to the empty fireplace. He quickly grabbed kindling and wood from the basket beside the silent hearth, setting to task. Before long, the flames crackled loudly among the stone, radiating a comforting warmth that dispelled the lingering chill.

It was then when the maid entered, a large basket brimming with fluffy fabric in her arms. Placing it beside the bed, she then retrieved a pouch from the top. Approaching the Prince, she bowed her head. “The herbs you asked for, my lord.”

“Thank you,” he replied, accepting them graciously.

The maid took to changing the sheets, making no mention of the blood. Legolas cleared a space upon the table in (Y/N)’s room. Placing a cast iron pot—one of which was kept in each room—over the now vibrant flames, he filled it with water from a pitcher. As the water began to boil, he used a small bowl to grind the fresh herbs into a paste with a pestle. Once sufficiently smashed, he ladled some of the boiling water over it and allowed the mixture of herbs to steep, filling the air with its earthy aroma.

The maid, having finished her task of making the bed and straightening up, bid an awkward farewell to the Prince before exiting the room.

Legolas sighed, taking a seat in the chair beside the table, his ears attuned to any sounds from (Y/N)'s direction—just in case.

Nearly 45 minutes passed before she emerged from the bathroom. She was clothed in soft trousers and a loose top that hung off her shoulder, her hand pressed lightly against her abdomen.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, breaking the quietness of the night.

She turned her head towards him. “You are still here?” Her gaze swept across the room, trailing off as she took in the sight of the lit candles, crackling fire, and fresh bedding.

Abandoning the chair, he approached her and gently put his hand upon her bicep. “How is the pain, (Y/N)?”

As if suddenly drawn from her thoughts, she registered that he was indeed beside her. “I, uh, it has lessened a bit.”

He nodded, guiding her to the bed. Pulling back the clean sheets, he motioned for her to get in. Surprisingly, she complied, settling into the comfort of the fresh lavender scent emanating from the blankets and pillows.

Legolas briefly left her side before returning with a cup of tea, mixed from the healing herbs. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he lifted the cup to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip. “Drink this. It will help.”

The steam kissed her face as she took the cup from him. As she drank, the warm liquid flowed down her throat and into her stomach, providing instant comfort. When she finished, she passed the cup back to him. “How do you know how to make such a tonic?”

The Prince placed the cup upon the side table. “My father used to care for my mother during her bloodmoon cycle, before she passed from this world. She too had excruciating pain. He taught me the right herbs to mix, the benefits of heat, and—” he paused, his hand moving to her lower back, where he began to massage lightly. “—what points to press to alleviate pain.”

She exhaled slowly, letting her eyes flutter closed.

“He had said, ‘One day, you will have a wife who too suffers such pain. This you must learn for her.’ And I listened.”

(Y/N) did not open her eyes. “I am not your wife.”

Before he could stop himself, his lips betrayed his secrets. “You could be.”

At this, she opened one eye, as if she was trying to subtly evaluate what his words meant based on his body language. Sensing the sincerity upon his expression, her other eye opened too. She put her full attention on him. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, the tips of his elvish ears reddening, though the warm glow of the fire hid his embarrassment. He turned his head away. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I—I didn't mean to be so…so forward.” He hesitated, then looked back at her, seeing her flabbergasted expression. “I–I suppose there is no hiding it now. The reason I keep such close watch over you is because my heart won't let me do otherwise. I fear, well, I fear that you are not just a shadow following my path.” He exhaled softly. “(Y/N), you haunt me in the most beautiful way.”

She shifted from the pillows, drawing closer until her face was mere inches from Legolas’. “You–you care for me?” she whispered.

His hand tenderly cupped her cheek, his thumb moving in a soft motion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

“Legolas,” she whispered. “Your father did not assign me to your sector. I was supposed to be appointed to protect him. I—I requested to be assigned to you.”

The Prince’s gaze met hers. “Why, (Y/N)?”

“Because you too have been haunting me.”

Legolas wasted no time. He pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s in a gentle kiss and she responded eagerly. She tasted of herbal tea and hope, while he tasted of honey and peace. His hands gently cradled her face, while hers found their way to the back of his neck, fingers entwining in his hair. The scent of fresh lavender surrounded her, mingling with the aroma of pine that clung to him. In their embrace, their minds intertwined, both haunted by the other's presence—in the most beautiful way.

Slowly, they parted. Legolas pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before speaking softly. "Lay down. Rest. I will watch over you."

She looked up at him. “Won't you lay with me? I am cold.”

He snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like the stem of a flower being plucked from a spring meadow. “You only want me to alleviate your pain, don't you?”

She grinned back at him. “Perhaps, Princeling. Though, I did not lie, I am cold.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Legolas kicked off his boots and drew back the covers. He allowed his body to melt against (Y/N)’s, providing warmth as he gently began to massage away her tension.

A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she snuggled further into him, eagerly stealing his warmth and accepting the pain relief he offered.

“Princeling,” she murmured, “You better not breathe a word of this either.”

He chuckled lightly, “I will not say a thing, Shadowfoot. I swear it.”

…

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Legolas Tag: in the comments

This genuinely made me laugh I love this.

Big week for himbos

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤

- Eyes of a King Part 1

Thranduil x reader (soulmate AU)

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

- Eyes of a King Part 2

Thranduil x reader (Soulmate AU)

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

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

- Thranduil with a forgetful Significant Other

I never thought of this but I love it

When the school calls you and tells you your adoptive son overthrew the principal.

Eyes of a King

Part two of my Thranduil soulmate one shot

Sitting on my bed I listen to the birds outside my window, it’s strange not even just strange, bizarre. I would’ve been in Paris a few days ago, but now I’m in the fictional realm of Mirkwood that isn’t supposed to exist. On top of that, I’m the king's soulmate. I haven’t even seen him since my first day here. Meanwhile, the maids were the only ones that ever talked to besides Gandalf. Who of course has been hanging around Mirkwood. Part of me really wants to go talk to Thranduil or even just look at him again to make sure I’m not in a dream, but whenever I walk around I can never find him, and it seems impolite to enter his chambers. Sighing I hop off my bed and peer out the open windows to my left. From my room, I can see the hustle and bustle of the town below. I’ve thought of going down, but the world still seems too alien for me to go down alone. I don’t want to cause any issues. However, a knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. Contemplating whether to open it or not I ask “Who is it?” A chuckle escapes the person behind the door and I open the door now realizing it is Gandalf. His smile is contagious and a laugh falls from my lips as I greet him “Good Morning Gandalf.”

He bows slightly and replies “It is a good morning indeed my lady.” Gandalf holds out his hand and asks “Would you like to walk with me through the market on this fine morning?” Walking out the door and softly closing it he offers his arm I loop it with mine, giving him a mischievous smile I ask “How many times do I have to tell you just to call me by my name?”

He mirrors my smile and replies “Many more” Shaking my head I question the practicality of my situation. I was basically kidnapped by a fictional character which happens to be illegal and I should be finding a way back home, but my soulmate who won’t even look at me is here. Frick me. I suddenly jump a bit when I hear Gandalf speak “Are you alright my dear?” His brow is creased in worry and his words truly did reflect his concern.

I acknowledge his fretting with a nod and a simple “Of course thank you.” He seemed to know that it was a white lie, but he simply nodded as we start walking through the different vendors. A small gasp escapes my lips as I see a stall with books of all types. Almost in a trance I quickly pull away from Gandalf and ask the vendor “Are there any in English, listo?” Did I add please in Sindarin at the end? Yes. Am I also a nerd who likes learning languages? Also yes. The vendor who I start to examine seemed shocked and now that I was looking at her I realize how beautiful she is. The Elleth who still seemed a bit cautious of me says back in perfect English “Yes a few…” She seems torn on something and I go to ask her about it but she beats me to it “I have never seen you around here, if I would have seen you before I would have known, not many humans come to Mirkwood.”

I was about to answer her when Gandalf seemingly appears beside me “She is my niece and has traveled with me from Dale.” Looking to Gandalf questioning what he was doing I then almost smacked myself, of course, he’s going to lie. I cannot go around saying I’m from another world.

✯✯✯✯✯✯

Huffing I sheepishly ask Gandalf “Could I have a little help?” After having a nice conversation with the elleth (whose name I learned is Älva) showed me a stack of beautiful hand-bound leather books in English. I was about to apologize because I had no money, but then he gave her shillings or something for all of them. He did so while I insisted he didn’t have to, yet he told me that Thranduil gave the money to Gandalf for me!

Gandalf gives a hearty chuckle “Of course my lady.”

So with great difficulty, we finally made it up the stairs and as we approached the doors to my room I ask Gandalf “Does he want to see me at all?”

The sadness that had seeped into my voice seemed to shock him for we stood silent for a few moments and Gandalf finally manages to form a few words “Of course he does my dear, but as I’m sure you understand Thranduil was married before you arrived and he did indeed love her.” My heart ached at his words and I croaked out “I know- It’s just.”

His eyes seemed to soften as I turn around “You’re lost my lady, I know you feel as if you do not belong.” Instead of answering I open the door to my room and set down the plethora of books that I held. Why is it me? Taking a shaky breath I look to Gandalf who also set down the books he was carrying. He asks me “Is there anything more I can do to help my lady?” Shaking my head I walk out to my balcony and sit. What am I going to do? Listening to the big doors shut I look to the skyline, there, there was the misty mountains. If I’m correct the dwarves should pass through Mirkwood soon… If they do I will be sure to help them, there is no need for all the bloodshed to occur… Getting and brushing off my dress (the maids insisted I wore one, but I am heavily considering changing into a tunic and trousers) I pick up a book I got, peek out the door, and head down the hall. I distinctly remember someone mentioning a library around here…

Creeping down the hall I jump when I hear a voice “What are you doing here?” Spinning around I see Legolas staring at me glaring.

Suddenly feeling much smaller I manage to speak “So a maid told me about a library and I just got a book and I really would like to see what books the palace has and- oh I’m trailing on I apologize.”

Quickly bowing I start to head right to look for the library when I hear “It’s to the left.” Turning around and bowing again I head to the left hall and slow my walking when I’m out of sight from Legolas. Here and there a maid, butler, or guard passes me, but for the most part, it was quiet. Taking my time I look at the carefully entwined branches, some areas were also stone, and overall it seemed as if nature itself swallowed the castle. The way the wood entwines with the stone and overall structure was breathtaking. Perhaps this architecture is better than Paris’s. Letting out a sigh I finally come to a doorway that smelt like old books and worn leather, knowing it's the Library I walk in book in hand, and see how beautiful it is. The elaborate designs all throughout it are breathtaking. The shelves themselves were made from intricate branches woven together. Brushing my hand over them lightly I finally take time to look at the library as a whole. Its walls were grand, at least 10 meters tall. As I pass by a chair the occupant who seems to be a young elfling was curled up sleeping. Smiling I take their cloak that fell on the floor and drape it over the elfling’s small frame. Looking around more I see a picture of a beautiful elleth hung in the center of the room. From her proud stature and crown, I could tell she was the last Queen. The little jealousy I had was now a burning crackling fire, it seemed so wrong for me to be jealous of the kind and graceful elleth, but I couldn’t help it.

Her soft features made it seem like she understood me as if she was saying “I’m sorry you don’t deserve this.” I hated being envious. Turning away I observe the rest of the room where soft light from the outside cascaded in and cast shadows in the library. The light especially seemed to hit a spot specifically a cozy corner in the room. I walk over to the chair and got closer only to notice someone was in it. That someone being Thranduil. After weighing the pros and cons I walk around the side of the chair to see his usual stern face now peaceful, his eyes were drooping like a child and his crown was off to a side table instead of being perched atop his head. Stepping away from him I instead sit in a nook by the window and begin to read. At first, I read silently, reading about the beginning of Middle Earth. Stealing a glance at Thranduil I made the decision to read aloud, although quietly. A while later I glance at Thranduil again to see an almost invisible smile ghosting his face. Perhaps not all is lost, smiling I feel my own eyelids begin to become droopy as I slowly drift into slumber.

✯✯✯✯✯✯

Waking up I begin to stretch, my back arches as my blanket begins to fall o- wait I didn’t bring a blanket. Now fully awake I grab at the fabric and realize it was actually a robe, a silver robe… A silver robe with actual pieces of silver… Oh my God… He gave me his robe! My mind buzzing I reach for my book and a note falls out. The looping English and signature made my heart flutter.

Thank you for reading - Thranduil

Day two of my writing challenge

Sorry forgot to post also posting 3 today need to write 4 yet

Soulmate AU: everyone is born with heterochromia, one eye is their soulmate's color and the other is theirs. What happens when two soulmates meet?

~

Everyone always dreams of meeting their soulmate, their other half. Meeting my soulmate was once my dream, but I’ve given up hope. My soulmate's eyes aren’t exactly the rarest color, although they were beautiful that’s for sure. Their eye is an arctic blue with strokes of baby blue. Compared to my simple hazel eyes theirs were truly magnificent. So in general it’s nice having such a beautiful eye, but every other blue eye I see is lifeless and dull compared to my soulmate’s. Sighing in frustration I shake my head to clear my thoughts, now is not the time for daydreaming, I’m about to be in Paris. The city of love it’s quite ironic huh? Stepping onto the train platform I take a deep breath in and smell food nearby. Looking around I also admire the train station's architecture, it was much better compared to what we had back home. While looking around I start to become dizzy and lean against a pole. I start to rub my temple to attempt to get rid of the dizzy spell, but a man suddenly appears in the corner of my vision. Blinking at him I notice he was quite tall he then asks in a somewhat raspy voice “Are you quite alright my lady?” No one says my lady, but I brush it off and notice he looked like Ian McKellen, he had eyes that sparkled with mischief and an impressive beard. Nodding I respond to him “I apologize for that sir, I’m just becoming very dizzy.”

Yet when I go to once again look at his eyes I find him studying mine.

I then hear “It’s her.” I am about to question what he meant by the remark but before I could I feel myself falling. Screams erupt from my mouth as I get beaten up by tree branches on the way down. When I hit the ground I start to feel tears form, but I push it down. Getting to my feet I realize I’m shaking and my right arm is numb. Muttering profanities under my breath I limp to the base of a tree and begin to take in my surroundings. I’m surrounded by black dying trees that were corroding to who knows what, but I did not wanna find out. Continuing to look around I wonder how the hell I got into this situation. Okay, I was at a train station in Paris and got dizzy then an old ma- wait it was that old hobo man that looks like Ian McKellen! Now that I think of it he looked like Gandalf, yet even I knew he looked too friendly!

Before I go to look around more when I hear a voice “Don’t move or the arrow will lie in your head” I go to speak but instead process the voice. Then it hit me he sounds like Legolas!

I respond “Sir I’m sorry for whatever I did, but I don’t even know where I am.”

Then I am interrupted by a person behind me “Lay down your bow Legolas Greenleaf, she is with me.”

Wait a minute that is the cheap Ian McKellen copy! Quickly turning around I point at the man cosplaying Gandalf “You! You, Homeless hobo, are the reason I’m here I could be in Paris right now drinking wine in the Eiffel Tower!”

He acknowledges me and says “I understand that my lady,” but then he turns to the man that also looked like a clone of Legolas and says “see look at her eyes, mellon nin.”

The Handsome copy of Legolas looks at my eyes as mine nervously dart around, but looking at his face, his expression shows one of surprise “She has Adar’s eyes…” He then turns to the other cosplayers and says something in elvish, to which the other cosplaying elves nod. The man cosplaying Legolas grabs my arm as we start to walk. If it was anyone else I wouldn’t have allowed it, but he’s hot so one exception. As we walk the large trees start to gain life the closer we got to whatever destination. ‘Okay this is weird as shit’ I think, but when we near a twisted wooden structure I realized.

“I’m not on earth any longer am I?”

I was really questioning myself, but the actual Gandalf agrees with a laugh “No my lady instead you are on middle earth.” Oh god I feel like throwing up, it definitely doesn’t help when I walk in and everyone looks at me. We walk through twisting halls and finally to what seemed like a throne room, nervous about falling off the edge of the path I practically cling onto Legolas, who in return gives me a curious glance. Once we reach the large platform I relax a bit, okay no dying via falling off a path edge.

Legolas then speaks “My King there is someone here to see you.” he lets go of me and I look at him as if he’s nuts and shake my head quickly.

I just want to go ho- “Is that so Legolas, tell me who is it.” My throat goes dry, but when I turn around I am met with the most beautiful blue eye and a hazel one. The tall elf with my eyes that I’ve identified as Thranduil walks down the steps and stops right in front of me. He is so close that I can feel his breath.

I say the only thing I can think of at that moment “Your eyes are beautiful.”

I cannot explain how much I love this

Original post by chaoticlypirates

Possibly using this later

bro… 😭

Dude I’ve been trying to get a part time for forever