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.
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
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.
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.
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
“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
“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.
My partner is literally an angel and has helped my mental health significantly. They are the sweetest kindest person ever and I love them so much. Plus they look like an elven flower child and have Legolas hair.
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.
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.
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
These are the same gesture (love), but done in vastly different ways. One gesture is up-turned, and wide open, meant as a warm, loving greeting that takes in everyone. Haldir is gesturing more specifically, so his fingertips point right at the true recipient, by the end of the motion.
Then there is Thranduil and Legolas.
Look at the major difference here.
A deeper head-bow with eyes closed from both of them.
Thranduil’s motions are smaller and slope downward.
Legolas has the most motion. He half-turns and reaches straight out for his father. His hand isn’t cupped upward at all.
I find this really revealing. What we seem to have here is Thranduil saying ‘I love you’ and 'Goodbye’ to the little child Legolas that still exists in his heart.The motion is slow, almost a scoop motion like taking something out of himself and offering it to Legolas.
Legolas is really heartbreaking. His 'I love you’ gesture to his father loses all formality. In other words, his hand just begins to go slack and reach out the way it would if he were going to take his father’s hand. To me this is a very deep revelation of love, in a way, it becomes a 'Don’t leave me’, or 'Will you come take my hand’. It truly seems to be the son in him reaching to his dad, while his father struggles with letting him go.
Requested by @lilredniki:
hey there lovely lady, can I request a fic? I know you don’t do smut but could you do a soon to be mommy reader one? if not that’s okay just figured I’d ask ya
Here’s your request, lovely! I apologize for taking so long! I do not own Legolas, Gimli or Gandalf. They belong to J.R.R.Tolkien.
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and fluff!!
Pairings: Legolas x pregnant!reader, mentions of Gimli and Gandalf
You opened the door to the chambers
you shared with your husband, hoping he would be there. You glanced around the
entire room and peeked into the bath chamber. No Legolas. Your brows furrowed.
Where in Middle Earth was your husband? You left the room and checked the next
place he would be. The training yard. You were happy when Legolas decided to
remain in Gondor with Aragorn because, while you loved your home in Mirkwood,
you could more easily locate your husband in Gondor. No trees for him to hide
rejecting his son, Thranduil remembers when Legolas tried to please him being an excellent boy. He
knows that his child is only in love, and talk to Gimli trying to find his true
intentions. Gimli rebukes him to hurt Legolas, and he swears he loves him with
all his being.
time, that conversation occurred. In those days, Thranduil was very powerful,
and was a formidable warrior. Seeing
that Gimli tried to steal his only son, he is about to kill him, but Legolas
stops him and shows him a coldness for attack the love of his life.
In this age,
Gimli tells Thranduil that the real reason to visit them was that he asked
Legolas to marry him, and Legolas had accepted. He was so happy that he agreed
to go and break the news to his Ada and Da. Thranduil is not happy with that
news, but, unlike many years ago, his husband is here and he has advised him to
be flexible with his child. If he loves Legolas, he must accept Gimli as the
love of his life.
second time that Thranduil is forced to give in to avoid losing his son.
However, as at that time, Thranduil gives warning to Gimli: if he hurts his
child, then he will destroy him. Gimli
accepts the warning and swears, by his honor, love and take care of Legolas.
The next day, Gimli breaks the news to Legolas. Legolas, grateful, feels he and
Gimli loved each other for a long time ago and that they were destined to meet
Bard congratulates Thranduil to do the right thing for his child. After one “I
love you” Thranduil takes refuge in the arms of Bard, which he enjoyed so
many times in his previous life.”