child legolas

You are mine, mine to me; Loki x child reader pt.1

Here’s a nice little crossover fic for you guys. Inspired by the clips that came out just before the 2016 The Jungle Book came to theaters the scene where Raksha talks to mowgli as he leaves the pack had me in tears when I first saw it and I thought “God this would be Loki if he had to give up his child to their rightful parents” and so this was born. I do NOT own Loki, Thor, Legolas or Thranduil they each belong to either Marvel or Tolkien. 

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood


During a peace treaty visit through Vanaheim, Thor, Loki, Lady Sif and the Warriors 3 were speaking with the high council who just happened to be Hogun’s father.  They spent over 2 hours discussing their treaty between their realms as well as discussing about the invaders that had threatened to strike any day now.  Completely bored with all this political stuff, Loki illusioned himself out without anyone noticing and now appeared in the forests of Vanaheim.

As he walked around the clear his head, the silence of the woods was broken by a strange sound. He had heard crying and it sounded close by.  Loki went to investigate and soon came across a small baby.  She was wrapped up in a blanket but to his horror it was stained in blood.  He didn’t know why he did what he did next but his heart was telling him to take care of the child and heal her from this pain.

Once he picked her up, her crying seemed to diminish and she just looked up and whimpered at him with red teary eyes.  Loki removed the blanket hoping he wouldn’t find what he was thinking of what would be there, fortunately there was no wound but the child was practically freezing to the touch.

“How long were you out here little one? Poor child you’re half frozen”.  He then took his green cape and wrapped it around the child for extra warmth as she whimpered softly.  “Shhhh, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay”.  Once she was wrapped up nice and snug, he gently rocked her close to his chest and said, “How did you get way out here?” As he looked down at the child who was now cooing happily up at him, he began to think if she had been abandoned by her parents? If not then were they dead and she was taken for ransom?

Either way he found the child so she was his responsibility now.  Plus looking down at her so happy filled Loki with something he thought he had lost long ago when his jealousy for Thor had overcame him.

Happiness and love.

He smiled down at the baby and he held her close and whispered softly to her.

“I promise you, whatever life you’ve had before, will be forgotten. I’ll take care of you as if you were my own, my sweet little dove”. Loki kissed her forehead and the baby yawned tiredly and snuggled into Loki’s chest gripping some of his armor with her tiny hands.  His heart seem to just melt at the sight of her and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he held her closer to him and rocked her softly.

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You are mine, mine to me pt. 2

Here is second part of you are mine, mine to me. Here is where we’re introduced to our LOTR/Hobbit characters and where the crossover truly begins.  Be prepared for angst feelings, minor hints of malnourished but I promise you they end in fluff all things work out in the end :)


When we landed I took notice that we were surrounded by nothing but green landscape and a huge forest was just ahead of us.  Soon I could hear the sound of horses’ whinnying coming close to us, then riding up to us was a male elf with long blonde almost whitish hair, blue eyes and wearing elvish riding clothes.  He had on a quiver full of arrows and a bow strapped to his back, his face stern as he rode up to me and Thor which made me feel even more scared especially since now I didn’t have daddy to comfort me. Along with him were what I assumed to be the guards uncle Thor spoke of back on Asgard.

“Is this the child you spoke of?” The male elf said.

“Yes Legolas Thranduilion, this is her”.  The elf known as Legolas whom grandma claimed to be the name of my big brother skillfully and was grace got off his white horse and came up to me softening his eyes as he began to observe me.

“May I see your right hand young one?” I turned to Uncle Thor for approval and he nodded and said.

“Go on”.  I slowly moved my sleeve up and shyly showed him my right hand.  He took it with the most gentlest of touches and he turned my hand over palm facing up revealing my star birthmark on the underside of my wrist.  Legolas’ eyes seemed to widen then he looked into my eyes and he muttered.

“You have her eyes, and the same mark”. He then revealed that he had the same birthmark I did on the same hand, same place.  He and I locked eyes with each other and I heard one of the guards say as I was taken by my supposed older brother.

“But it can’t be—”

“But it is Feren, this is my sister”. Soon the Elvish guard placed their right hand over their hearts and kneeled before me.  Even though I’ve been raised as a princess in Asgard, seeing these Elves bow before me felt a little weird almost not right because I had been raised in Asgard my whole life, and now I’m suddenly taken from the comforts of my own home and placed into a new place as a true princess from an isolated realm.  “Thank you Thor Odinson, we’ll take her home now”.  Thor nodded his head then he turned to me.

“It’ll be alright (y/n), never forget that I’ll always still see you as my little niece, whenever I can I’ll come to visit you soon”.  He gently rubbed my head and kissed the top of my head and soon he called Heimdell to open the Bifrost and soon the only family of Asgard I had left was gone.

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45. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

A/N: I don’t know what happened– I went to save the ask as a draft and it disappeared. So sorry, I do not know who requested this! Please comment and let me know. I found it! @mazikeen Thank you for the prompt! A/N2: Another drabble! I hope you like it. :)


For a moment, Thranduil looked fierce, a wild thing protecting his territory.  It was the dead of night, and his door sidled open, softly, but Thranduil’s keen hearing detected the sound.

Ready to expel the bold intruder who dared to enter his rooms unbidden, Thranduil stole out of his bed and into the shadows, shrugging into a robe as he did. Peering across the darkened room, he saw a slender figure and gasped, recognition slackening his scowl–

“Legolas?” Thranduil asked, as he stepped into the swath of moonlight on the floor.

Legolas started in surprise, then hurried towards him, his eyes round and worried.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” Thranduil asked. There was no good reason his son should be awake now, and so he frowned as Legolas raced across the room.

“Ada,” Legolas said with a fraught expression, and launched himself at his father, clasping him tightly.  

Thranduil was stunned, but bent to encircle his son in his arms, holding his beloved child close.  Legolas made little gasping noises, burying his nose into his middle, and Thranduil realized he was crying, though trying very hard not to.

It pained him some to discover that his son felt he should hide his feelings from him.  Even a few years ago this wouldn’t have been true.  Legolas’s happy and inquisitive nature overrode any shame he might feel, but nothing could change the fact that his elfling was growing up.

Somewhere in the transition from child to adolescent, Legolas had learned to be self conscious of his emotions. Joy still shone through– the child couldn’t help his nature– like sunshine bursting free of the clouds, but in learning discipline and order, he thought to stifle his other feelings.

From watching me, Thranduil thought. He felt sorrow for it, but he knew no other way for a king to be.

Thranduil’s astonishment at his son’s outburst, yielded to concern. What monsters had hurt his little leaf? Thranduil would slay them all. “What is it, ion-nin?” he asked, smoothing his hand over Legolas’s scalp, resting at the base of his neck.

“I am sorry,” Legolas whimpered.  “It is very childish and stupid, my lord, but I cannot help it.”

Thranduil’s heart hurt to hear Legolas addressing him formally, to show respect and put distance between them that propriety dictated.

Legolas was at that age between childhood and young adulthood. He strove everyday to act grown up, yet was still a child.  It was very important that he be taken seriously, and he would be wounded if Thranduil dismissed his feelings.

“It must not be either of those things to upset you so,” Thranduil replied. “Tell me. I will not ridicule.”  He pulled back enough to crouch at Legolas’s feet to better see his face, and held in his surprise when he realized how tall his son had grown. In another year or two, he would be too big for such a gesture.

“I had a nightmare about you,” Legolas whispered, “and I just wanted to make sure you are okay.”

“What did you dream about?” Thranduil asked.

Legolas was quiet for a long moment, only shaking his head as he gathered his thoughts. Thranduil waited as patiently as he could for his son to speak.

“I dreamed I was in the woods, playing,” Legolas said, then frowned. “No, not playing– on patrol.”

Legolas was too young to go on patrol. It would be another twenty years before he reached the age of maturity, but Thranduil did not interrupt him with that fact.  

“You were on patrol, and then what?” Thranduil prompted.

“There was a stag and I followed him, chasing and laughing with the other elves. We ran through the woods, hardly noticing when it got darker,” Legolas said, “but it did.”

“I didn’t see the pit and I fell down and down impossibly long until the sky was ash and the air thick and I landed in mud. I was surrounded on all sides by muck and swamp. I saw the stag, his great antlers protruding from the mire. He was sinking. I lumbered towards him but was weighted down by the mud, water, and marsh plants. I couldn’t reach him in time. He sank under.

“When I got closer–,” Legolas’s voice choked off. Emotion warred across his face as he struggled to remain composed, but ultimately Legolas lost to it, his brow creasing in anguish as he heaved a sob.

“He’s you– the stag is you. You’re floating under the water. And I can’t– I can’t reach you– my hands are bound, held back by the weeds, my feet rooted by the mud– and you’re under the water– I can see you, but I can’t touch you. And you’re sinking, and so still, and floating away from me and I can’t– I can’t–.”

Thranduil threw his arms around him and pulled Legolas close. “Shhh, it’s alright,” Thranduil soothed. “You have me now, my love.”

Legolas wept openly, wailing dolefully into Thranduil’s neck.  The king swayed his child tenderly, trying to soothe his anguished heart with a strong embrace and gentle reassurances.

Legolas’s dream summoned images from his own memories.

The Dead Marshes, Thranduil thought and went still. Dagorlad.  

Elven history was part of Legolas’s lessons, and the young prince was just beginning to realize his father’s part in it.  It had been amusing when Legolas realized just how old his father was, his scant three decades of life uncomprehending of multiple millennia.

However, there was nothing amusing about this.

The battle of Dagorlad marked one of the most harrowing times in his long life. Thranduil could not think on it without feeling intense pain in his heart. The knowledge of this history should have been imparted on Legolas with great care, if not for his own young mind, but out of respect for Thranduil.

How Legolas learned about this without my consent, I do not know, Thranduil thought. There are more pressing concerns at the moment.

Thranduil’s mind raced, but there was no time for his own grief. Legolas was distressed and needed him to be present right now.

You were dead,” Legolas whispered. “I was too late. I was useless.”

Thranduil sat back on his heels, pulling away only enough to look into his eyes. His son could not know these words echoed his own from thousands of years ago on that battlefield when he’d found Oropher’s body. They were destructive, and useless words themselves, with no place in Legolas’s young mind.

“You had a bad dream,” Thranduil replied. “But that is all it is. I am not dead, nor are you too late, nor are you useless.”

It was obvious anxiety caused Legolas’s dream, his young mind reeling from what he had learned, the horror of it too much to process.

“I do not know what I would do if– if I lost you, too,” Legolas said through his tears, and he heaved an ugly sob into his arm.

Thranduil felt his own sentiment rise up, tightening his throat, but he swallowed it down, focusing on the fierce love he had for this little elf.

“You will not lose me, my love,” Thranduil said, rubbing up and down his arms, trying to comfort his son, but his words had the opposite effect.

“You cannot promise!” Legolas cried, yanking his arms free. “Nana died. Your ada died. I read about it in the book! What could stop you from dying next?”

Ah, my little scholar is reading ahead of his lessons, Thranduil thought. When Legolas was curious about something, he could be as persistent as a dog with a bone. Perhaps Legolas had thought reading about war would prepare him to be a soldier. Lately, he had been very interested in what grown ups do. Thranduil would have to remember to ask him about it later.

The Dead Marshes were macabre even to the most dauntless of soldiers, let alone a child with a vivid imagination. Corpses drifted in the murky water, anchored by rotting weeds that sprouted up like gnarled hands to tether the bodies an easy length from the surface, taunting the living with failure and loss. Despair dwelled in that moor, its legacy of sorrow bequeathed to all who had looked upon it.

Thranduil had many sleepless nights after he had returned from the Dead Marshes on a fool’s errand to see if Oropher floated among the disturbed bodies there. Though he had blessedly not found his father, what Thranduil had seen would haunt him for the rest of his days.

This is not the way I intended for Legolas to learn about his grandfather, Thranduil thought. I need to mend this if I can.

Thranduil remembered all too well the pain of losing his home, of losing his father, of losing his comrades, of losing his wife– so much loss in his long life, more than many elves experience.

I must banish my own bereavement from my mind, Thranduil thought. I must not dwell on my losses but instead on what I have learned from them.

“Without you, I’ll be all alone,” Legolas whispered, blue eyes round, and red-rimmed with tears.  “What would I do if you weren’t here with me?”

Thranduil took Legolas’s hands in his own, squeezing gently.  Such a stricken question from one so young, Thranduil thought. Elves were supposed to live for all time. That they did not, was the great tragedy of their kind.

“We cannot know what life will bring us,” Thranduil said. “It is okay to worry sometimes, Legolas. You are more capable than you realize, But there are some things we cannot control.  All we can do is enjoy life one day at a time, the best we can. Will you try to remember that?”

Legolas sniffled and nodded, and gasped, “I will try. But I am afraid, ada.”

“It is alright to be afraid, Legolas,” Thranduil replied. “We may lose people we love, but we will never lose the love they leave behind. As long as you remember that, you will always have me, and your naneth.”

Taking shuddering breathes, Legolas nodded, attempting to accept his father’s words.  “Nana loved me,” he said. “I know that. I remember.”

“You are dearly loved,” Thranduil replied.  “You are my heart, ion-nin.”

A smile brightened Legolas’s face. Throwing his arms around Thranduil’s neck, Legolas flung himself at his father, hugging him with all his might.  

Thranduil chuckled and held onto him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.  “One day, when you are older, I will tell you about the war,” Thranduil whispered, “but for now, slow down.  Do not rush these years.”

Legolas was a sniffling, red faced mess, gasping and wiping his wet face on his sleeve.

Resisting the urge to gather Legolas up in his arms and hold him like he had when he was toddling, Thranduil instead tugged gently at his hand.

“Come with me,” he said and guided Legolas towards his bathing chamber.

Thranduil brought a handkerchief to his face, prompting him to blow his nose. Pouring cool water into a basin he soaked a cloth and washed Legolas’s face, trying to ease some of the tension in his tiny brow.  

It had been a while since Thranduil had cared for Legolas like this. Feelings of both shame and pride rose up in him. How long it had been, but Thranduil was here for his son now when Legolas needed his father.

“How does that feel?” Thranduil asked.

“Better, ada,” Legolas replied.

“Drink all of this,” Thranduil said handing him a glass of water, and Legolas gulped it down without hesitation.  

When there was nothing more to do, Legolas looked away and fidgeted, reluctant to leave. Perhaps Legolas felt he was too old to ask, even though Thranduil could tell he wanted to, so Thranduil asked for him, “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

Relief flashed across Legolas’s face and he nodded with vigor, taking Thranduil’s hand in his own. Thranduil smiled and led Legolas into his room.  

Legolas hopped up onto the bed, bouncing a few times on the large mattress before settling into the side where his mother used to sleep. A smile curved Thranduil’s lips as he watched his son perform that lighthearted action, realizing Legolas was starting to feel better.

Thranduil shrugged out of his dressing gown, and laid it over the back of his chair, then climbed into the bed next to his son. No sooner had he laid down, did Legolas burrow closer to him, wriggling like a worm until he was safe in the sheltered space between Thranduil’s arm and side.

“Good night, ada,” Legolas whispered, yawning into his chest.

“Sleep well, ion-nin,” he replied.

Sleep would be difficult for both of them to come by that night. But as they lay in the bed, warmth pooling between them, Thranduil took his own advice and simply enjoyed being in the presence of his son.



If you want to request a drabble, the list is here.

#dior is the fairest of threefold race which i would say is either                                                                            #a category of his own in which he’s the only contestant                                                                            #or fairer than everyone including his mom                                                                            #but the 5 window gap is fine fine fine cool cool cool

@crocordile Ok so obviously of that list I only actually care about the Dior placement, SO let’s talk:

Then Dior arose, and about his neck he clasped the Nauglamír; and now he appeared as the fairest of all the children of the world, of threefold race: of the Edain, and of the Eldar, and of the Maiar of the Blessed Realm.

I THINK that the comma between “the fairest of all the children of the world” and “of threefold race” means we’re distinguishing those as separate attributes–he’s more attractive than any Earthling (which I would argue doesn’t include Ainur, or at least not explicitly; I’d also exclude his mom because ‘now he appeared’ does make it feel really timelocked to that moment when he puts on the Silmaril. and of course there are lots of other references to Luthien being fairest EVER. but I can see it going either way) and then he’s also mixed, not, he’s the most attractive of the elfmaiahumans.

Also from this quote I think we can agree that like Buttercup he was kind of a late bloomer who was only surpassingly beautiful in his teens, and maybe one of his wrists was disqualifyingly bonier than the other, only his right wrist the exact right amount of pudge, and THEN at 30—

y'know how when you’re a kid and reading stories or watching cartoons or whatever and there are these two characters and everything about them just tickles you pink and you don’t know why but they have their relationship and you’re just like ‘yes this more of this please this is good stuff’ and then you grow up and you look back on it and you’re like


i shipped it

that’s what was going on there

I’ll protect you; Legolas x angel! child reader

Now this Legolas request I got is EXTREMELY sensitive. It contains child abuse so if you don’t like reading that kind of stuff then just leave, I’m giving you fair warning right now. I do NOT take child abuse lightly so I ask u if you see or know anyone at ANY point in your life who has dealt with child abuse or any kind of abuse at all, PLEASE SPEAK OUT! Your voice can really save or destroy a life.

Originally posted by thefirstgingerdoctor


I ran. That’s all I could do at this point. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me as I tried to escape from the wildmen who were chasing after me. The wildmen who were chasing after me had killed my mom and dad, burned my home to the ground and took me as their little pet.

They would hit me, torture me, and force me to reveal my biggest secret just so they could use it for their own purpose. So in the early morning when they were still asleep, 

I managed to find a weak point in my cage and use my left over strength to break a few bars of my cage and escape but it wasn’t until their dogs began barking signaling my escape and well here we are now.I managed to find a great big forest just ahead but the entrance just looked haunting and terrifying. I could hear the wildmen crying out and their dogs barking getting closer and closer. I took a deep breath and quickly ran into the forest hoping to find a good hiding spot from the wildmen or hoping by some miracle they would get too scared of the forest and just forget about finding me.

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Five Types of Canon: Legolas Thranduilion

A/N: I was an idiot and accidentally deleted the ask from @doubtfulmage158 ;-; pls accept this canon list as payment! This post is all over the place :’) but I hope you enjoy. (Original idea came from @saucefactory)

Canon: Legolas learned how to fight both on the battlefield and in the council by watching and being taught by his father, Thranduil. His father was and remains the greatest warrior in Middle Earth; notorious for being unbeatable both physically and verbally, and naturally, the same expectations are brought upon him as his son. He would work tirelessly to improve his fighting and debating skills to live up to his father’s legacy, even working himself up to the point of exhaustion to hit all his targets dead center or memorize material he learned in lessons.

Headcanon: Because of his position in the social hierarchy of elves, he was often put on a pedestal by many of his kin and never had many people that treated him as what he actually was: an individual. Much of his childhood was quiet and lonely, reduced to walking around the royal gardens, playing with his father’s elk, training, studying, and perfecting his oratory skills. Despite all the lavish gifts he got throughout his lifetime, he prayed only for a real and genuine friend. One that he could spar with, read with, walk with, talk with. Although a voice in the very back of his head told him that it was all for naught, he still believed that one day, they would come.

Heartcanon: He is a firm believer in love at first sight. He’s heard testimonies about elves taking one glance at their “One” and knowing right away that their fates would be tied together. The sheer amount of daydreams he’s had about finding his potential mate were a number too large to count. Legolas often wondered what you would look like, where you’d be from, what family’s blood ran in your veins, your native language, your occupation. Despite all of his fantasies, he knew that you’d be a beauty beyond belief. And when his azure eyes fixed their gaze on yours, he thanked his lucky stars that you were the one for him.

Soulcanon: Leggy is the small spoon. There’s nothing that can replace the feeling of your arms wrapped protectively around his body, chest pressed up against his back, face buried in his locks of molten gold, fresh with the smell of evergreen, oak, and assorted berries. No sensation greater than feeling your breath ghost over his hair and featherlight kisses on his face planted by patent leather lips illuminated by early morning light streaming through tall crystalline windows. No thing greater than your body curled comfortably around his on frigid winter nights, providing both the bodily and emotional warmth he’s craved for hundreds of years. In your arms, he feels safe. In your arms, he knows he belongs.

Crotchcanon (Warning: it doesn’t go fully NSFW, but it’s a bit limey, so please feel free to skip if you’re uncomfortable with it): Legolas is 12/10 a switch. He leans more submissive, but will be dom whenever you’re up for it. Despite his preference of love making compared to a rougher form of intimacy, he enjoys rigging immensely, though he’ll never admit it out loud. Being the angel he is, your sessions are mainly focused on making you feel loved and cared for.

the shannara chronicles: a character study
  • wil: like an old motown singer, just shiny and dumb and easy to trick.
  • amberle: you wanna see how hardcore i am?! *punches wall* drive me to the hospital.
  • eretria: *beez in the trap plays dramatically in distance*
  • allanon: this is sacred ground, watered with tears of blood.
  • bandon: i see dead people.
  • ander: i'm not like regular uncles, i'm a cool uncle.
  • arion: oh i just can't wait to be king.
  • eventine: *actual love child of legolas and gimili*
All Is Forgiven, My Love

Word Count: 1229

Warnings: angst?

Summary: Legolas and reader get into an argument.

Requested by Anon on Tumblr


Feredir, who was a good friend of (Y/n)’s had politely requested her join him to help find some Athelas in the forest for the kingdom. (Y/n) accepted happily, walking back to her and Legolas’s  shared bedroom to change into appropriate outing attire for their task.

(Y/n) opened the door and entered the room. Opening the wardrobe to search for clothes, she felt familiar, strong arms hug her lovingly from behind. The warm breath of the tall being tickled her neck as he provided her small kisses on the exposed area.

Melamin.” Legolas breathed.

(Y/n) smiled fondly, turning to hug him properly. “Legolas.” She said, breathing in his homely scent. “I though you were on a scout until the night of tomorrow?” (Y/n) asked.

“It turns out the forest is rather safe, we spotted no spider webs nor did we find recent tracks of any foe. I informed father, who was quite pleased to hear this.” Legolas said.

“That is wonderful.” (Y/n) said gratefully, looking forward to apply herself to her task in a secure environment. Legolas lowered his head and leaned forward to kiss (Y/n)’s cheek, gradually moving towards her lips. She smiled as they kissed in sync, feeling happy to have Legolas in front of her. He was gone for a day and a half as him and his guards scouted and examined the forest of Mirkwood for any remaining dangers. “I missed you.” she whispered between kisses. Although his absence was short she missed him for every second he was away, not being used to not waking up and falling asleep in the loving comfort of his arms, or stealing minutes off of each others daily schedules lip locking in an empty corridor while they had just ‘happened’ to meet  each other. It all felt so right.

“And I you.” Legolas replied, brushing their lips together.

(Y/n) broke the kiss, suddenly remembering something. “Did you happen to spot any Athelas during your scout?”

“I might have seen a few plants, although I am sure they are everywhere.” Legolas said. “May I ask why?”

“I am to go into the forest with Feredir to search for some this evening. He asked me.” (Y/n) said, returning to her task of finding a change of clothes.

“Feredir…” Legolas said unsurely. “Did he happen to question you last minute?” he asked.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she skimmed through the various tunics. “Does that really matter?”

“It does if he is in a rush to be alone with you…” Legolas said bitterly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” (Y/n) turned to face Legolas. “You think Feredir has any other plan than to find a plant?”

“I know he does,” Legolas said, looking away from your eyes as his filled with anger. “I have noticed the way he stares at you. And he just so happened to ask you to accompany him while I was meant to be absent.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Feredir has been my friend ever since I was a child, Legolas. He knows of my love for you and would never try anything.”  

“How can you be so sure?” Legolas questioned, sounding offended. “Do not forget that you and I have also been friends when we were children.” He added defensively.

“Can you please just stop acting so distrustful?”

“I cannot when Feredir is waiting for you, preparing to lure you into whatever he is planning.” Legolas snapped. “I cannot let you go so willingly.”

“I am my own person, Legolas.” (Y/n) sighed. Why was he acting so unfair?

“If it were not for me pointing out Feredir’s past actions, you would have already been with him in the forest - where you are alone with him and his ill intentions.” Legolas replied back.

“You cannot be serious!” (Y/n) rose her voice. “Feredir’s and I’s intentions were to search for Athelas for the kingdom, as the supply was short and dry. He and I are just friends, Legolas.” She clarified once more as she started for the door. A dress was going to have to do for the activity.

“And what am I?!” Legolas said, sounding distinctly hurt.

(Y/n) turned to face the tall elf, looking seemingly shocked. “Legolas.” She warned.

“Why do you defend him?”

(Y/n) was at a loss for words. How could such a heated argument occur so quickly? How could he go against her in such a way? She couldn’t tell who was feeling more betrayed.

A door slammed loudly before (Y/n)’s eyes. She sighed regretfully yet still slightly irritated with Legolas. She rested her head against the wall, thinking back on the argument. “What have I done?” (Y/n) whispered, feeling hot tears streaming down her cheeks.


It had been nearly an hour since Legolas stormed off. (Y/n) remained in her spot for a while, contemplating if it was better to search for Legolas or to find Feredir. Standing up from the floor she placed herself on, she headed for the door. She would go to the corridor that lead to a small garden. Legolas and (Y/n) often spent time with each other there. He first showed it to her when they were children, deeming it ‘their place’. It was filled with memories. All the times they spent sat next to each other during sleepless nights, stargazing and naming their favourite constellations as adolescents. Their first kiss took place in their spot as well. (Y/n) smiled at the memory. Even now their shared kisses made her feel as though it was only the two of them in the world. Her smile faded as she remembered how angry he was with her. Legolas could be anywhere. Perhaps he was in the forest, alone with his thoughts. Maybe he was aimlessly wandering the kingdom, or possibly shooting arrows into targets to help him think. The possibilities were endless with Legolas. He always managed to busy himself with some sort of task. His restlessness was one of the many reasons she fell in love with him.

(Y/n) passed the corridor and walked into the garden, seating herself onto the intricately carved bench that was placed in the middle of all the beds of flowers. It felt strange to be here without Legolas. “Goheno nin, Legolas.” (Y/n) said quietly as tears began falling from her eyes once more.

“It is I who should be asking you for forgiveness,” Legolas’s voice interrupted. He moved from the entrance of the garden, walking so he was in front of her. Legolas gently held (Y/n)’s hands, kneeling down before her. “Mela en’ coiamin.” Legolas said, his eyes filled with regret. “I am sorry for being so unbelievably unjust and inconsiderate. It was not in my intentions at all to cause you such sadness and anger, I was a fool to be so consumed with jealously to the point where I not only went against an Ellon, but you, the most important being in my life.”

“Legolas.” (Y/n) said, easing herself into Legolas’s arms. Maybe if someone else was inside her shoes, they would continue to feel angry. But (Y/n) knew Legolas. She knew he meant every syllable in his apology and that he regretted everything he said in the argument.

“Do you forgive me?” He said quietly.

“Yes. All is forgiven, my love.” (Y/n) replied, lifting her head and locking lips with him. “Ge Melin.” she murmured between kisses.

“I love you so much.” Legolas said, deepening the kiss.


Elvish - English

Melamin - My love

Mela en’ coiamin - Love of my life