[estolad]

𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐲, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠

𝐢’𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐢’𝐦 𝟐𝟑 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮) 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭.

❆𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

❆𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

❆𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟

don’t steal or repost my works. period.

[estolad]

Ok but I'm in love with gil galad in the rings of power

[estolad]

so thranduil fics are really the secret to keeping the lotr/hobbit fandom alive huh

[estolad]

let’s get one thing straight. i do not like happy endings in my fics. if i give one, it’s a special occasion. 

[estolad]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?

Haldir x Fem!Reader

Word count: 610

Genre: Angst

The home is silent, absolutely no sound except the breeze slipping between the tubes of the wind chime on the porch. The chimes’ refrain serves as the sole reminder to the two parties at the dining room table that time is still passing no matter how little they speak. A feeble attempt to detain the inevitable. The marchwarden and his wife have been sitting for what felt like hours. The lump in [Y/N]’s throat is unmoving and the tears behind her eyes are just waiting for their chance. It’s [Y/N] who speaks first.

 “Is that it then?”

 A whisper. The softest of questions that manages to feel more painful than the countless swords the Elf has been stabbed with in battles of time long past. He wonders if this is as difficult for her as it is for him. His eyes, once staring at the papers in the center of the table, rise to meet her own.

 “It is.”

 Never has Haldir, the strongest and mightiest warrior in all of Lothlorien, felt such sorrow in his heart. His response makes the woman in front of him feel millions of miles away and he can tell by the look on her face she’s disappointed at the shortness of his words.

 “So it’s just a matter of delivering these to Lady Galadriel then?”

 He almost smiles. She always asks questions she already knows the answer to when she’s nervous.

 “Yes. I will take them as soon as we are finished here.”

 [Y/N] swallows thickly and wrings her hands in her lap.

 “And then what happens from there?”

 He swallows thickly and looks back to the papers. They’re almost mocking, reminding him all they’re throwing away.

 “Our marriage will be annulled.”

 His heart shatters when tears fall over her cheeks. He can’t bring himself to wipe them away like he used to. He doesn’t have a right to anymore, he supposes.

 “How did it come to this, Haldir?”

 Her whimper cuts him deeply.

 “Some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes.”

 A cry echoes through the home and Haldir looks up to find [Y/N]’s eyes squeezed shut, sobs causing her body to shake.

 “Please know this, [Y/N].”

 He reaches his hands across the table and she opens her eyes to peer at him. He beckons her own hands until she places them in his own. He grasps them tightly, for he knows this may be the last time he’ll ever get to.

 “There will always be a large part of my heart and soul dedicated to you. Nothing can ever change that.”

 Haldir feels tears on his own eyelashes. The same eyelashes that [Y/N] would lie awake and stroke before telling him how beautiful he truly is. He watches as she presses her lips together and sets her sight on the papers. Who knew such an ordinary item could cause two people’s lives to fall apart?

 After a long while, she nods and gives him a tight smile.

 “Just as there will always be a part of mine dedicated to you.”

 She squeezes his hands as tears roll down the marchwarden’s cheeks.

 “Thank you for giving me the best years of my life, Haldir.”

 He nods and gives her his own sad smile.

 “Thank you for giving me the same thing along with the greatest love I have ever known.”

 They speak no more.

 The wind chime outside, once a performer that sang to visitors a romantic melody of an epic love story which rivaled Beren and Luthien’s, now croons a despairing ballad as if to tell all of Middle Earth the tale of two lovers having to do the hardest thing in one’s life.

Letting each other go.

[estolad]

𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞

Thranduil x reader

Note: implied female reader

Word count: 823

Warning(s): not really any, but let me know if you see anything deserving of one

The king is alone in his study, his desk almost overflowing with papers that need to be approved, signed, stamped, or otherwise discarded. He can recall sitting down when the afternoon sun was still glaring at him through the window and as he looks through the glass now, the moon tenderly illuminates him, notifying him that hours have passed. His gaze moves to the stacks of finished papers on the floor beside him and it almost matches the ones on his desk. He sighs, a hand reaching up to card itself through his hair, his crown long taken off and set to the side somewhere. In moments like these, he wishes he were no king. There is some small part of him that longs to be a civilian with no responsibilities, no obligations as an authority, and most of all no deadlines. He wishes to be in bed with his partner who he regretfully let fall asleep without him.

 Thranduil squeezes his eyes shut, the words on the page in front of him beginning to blend together. There’s a fireplace on one wall of the room, another reminder of how much time has passed as it was once roaring and bright and is now no more than a pile of embers that provide a soft glow. The king feels overall exhausted and he thinks perhaps that’s why he gets so startled at the feeling of something being draped over his shoulders. He has half a mind to draw the sword leaning against his desk, but decides against it once he inhales and recognizes the aroma of his lover’s perfume. His eyes open, his tense shoulders immediately go slack, and his posture (completely straight mind you, as one will never catch a king hunching over) relaxes. He runs a hand over the dark green blanket that had been placed on him and recognizes it as the one from his own bed. A weight rests on his left shoulder and arms loosely wrap themselves around his neck.

 “It has been five hours, Thranduil. At some point, you have to rest before your meetings tomorrow.” The soft voice is almost enough to convince him. “Though I wish nothing more than to join you in your repose, almost the entirety of these forms are to be sent out tomorrow evening.” His eyes fall back on the paper he holds, the words legible once more. A hand that isn’t his own pulls it out of his grasp and lays it down on the wood. “The only ones due tomorrow are being sent to Dale. Bard will understand. He has a family of his own.” He knows it is the truth. Out of all of his allies, the King of Dale understands what it’s like. “You have never held it against him when he sends you forms late, so why should he?” He turns his head to finally face the voice. He finds his partner there and his heart skips a beat. No matter how many decades go by, he is continuously floored by how much love he can hold for one person. The amount is only beat by the love he holds for his son, but even that wouldn’t be possible without the one in front of him.

 He cannot find it within himself to argue. The usually combative king remains silent, far too weary to make excuses. He nods his head and the weight of his lover is removed. He turns in his chair and takes their hand, allowing himself to be led from his desk, out of the room, down the hall, and into his chambers. He barely registers his partner removing his robes and slipping a tunic over his head and sleep trousers on his legs. He nearly falls asleep standing, but is soon gently pulled to the bed. He has the strength to slip under the blankets and tug them over his partner’s chest. They find their way into his arms and he relishes in their slow breathing. He presses a kiss to their hair and speaks for the first time this evening. “Thank you, my love.” It’s a soft whisper and he almost believes they’ve fallen asleep, but a small kiss to his chest proves him wrong. Thranduil begins his descent into slumber, content he gets to do so with his favorite person.

 Even in times when he wishes he could just be a simple elf, one who worries not for meetings, treaties, forms, and other such things, he accepts he could never bring himself to part with the reality that is being with someone his love knows no bounds for, someone who gifted him the joy of a child, who spends the entirety of their days ensuring he does not run himself into the ground.

 When his mind drifts to the scenario of living as a civilian, he looks to his lover and decides this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

[estolad]

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Thranduil

❆in moments like these

Haldir

❆how did it come to this?

[estolad]

𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

❆i don’t write smut. i’m just not good at it, but can refer authors and pieces if asked

❆please no characters with suicidal tendencies or thoughts. it’s too personal.

❆characters with mental health issues are okay! depression and anxiety are examples of what i can write. i will notify you if i don’t have sufficient knowledge on the topic.