Songfic, sort of | Tension | Angst | Dark | Manipulation | Anxiety | Stalking | Hallucinations | Reader insert | Reader is mostly gender neutral but author had a female reader in mind
pairings: Dark!Thranduil x reader
A/N: As soon as I learnt about this song I knew I had to write something about my own favourite 'Elfking'. The song is based on Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's poem of the same name and the music composed by Franz Schubert
Quick summary of the song: a father and a son travel through the forest at night and the figure of the Erlkönig haunts the son but the father reasons those are hallucinations conjured by the son's fear and imagination, when father and son arrive to their destination the son is dead. You can find it on Youtube
notes: DO NOT REPOST OR REBLOG. Press the heart button if you liked it. Read the tags. DO NOT FEED TO AI. Feedback is welcome
The carts could not go along the road to the heart of Mirkwood. It was not the first time and it would not be last for as long as the forest was under the curse of darkness and the merchants of Laketown did not have other means or more money for better transportation for their goods.
The sun was setting but you and your father had offered to go the palace to alert the elves so they would come and pick up the goods themselves. With a short sword in hand, you walked carefully following your father. This was the first time you entered the so-called ‘Mirkwood’, once called Greenwood the Great. You had only seen the beginnings of it from walks exploring near the borders you sometimes took to clear your mind, but a feeling of dread and anxiety settled in you with each step you took. You were both were wearing dark cloaks with the hoods up to conceal your presence from predators.
The trees were unnaturally dark, branches sprouting like desperate arms trying to reach the scarce light that managed to enter in the forest, as was the soil and the other plants. There were no rabbits and foxes moving behind the bushes, no birds singing but wind blew through the trees making a faint whistling sound. You were stopped by your father’s arm in front of you.
“Look.” He pointed out in a still voice.
Looking ahead you could see it. At first you thought it was mist, the way it clung to the top of the trees but it was thick and gray. Huge spiderwebs hung all over the tree tops and going down the barks.
“Spiders.” You realised.
Your father nodded and you both resumed your route, this time walking carefully but fast enough to not linger under any tree. Like a sixth sense, you felt a cold breeze in the nape of your neck you looked around but there was nothing.
Your father seemed to notice.
“What is it? Did you see something?” He asked you looking over his shoulder.
“I thought...forget it.” You shook your head.
You kept walking, it was unnerving, you thought, the way time did not seem to pass in Mirkwood. Your body felt heavy. Looking down to the forest floor you could barely feel yourself advancing, when you looked up a flash of light invaded your vision and you could see a man in what appeared to be a throne room, with a mantle draped over his arms and exquisite clothes wearing a crown of twigs and leaves at the top of his head, he was beautiful in a way only elves could be, with long platinum hair and icy blue eyes; you gaped.
Before you could talk the vision vanished and in front of you once again was the forest. You blinked several times trying to make sense of what was happening. It must be the sickness of Mirkwood, you tried to reason.
“Father? What does the Elvenking look like?” You inquired.
“The Elvenking? Well...most of us merchants have not been able to be in his presence. Usually we deal with his butler, Galion but I have seen Prince Legolas, his son. And if he looks like his father then he must be a handsome elf with long blond hair…” Your father answered. “They say he is withdrawn and loves treasure.”
Blond hair, handsome. Could it be…? No, elves and attractiveness were a common combination, even more when it involved blond hair.
“There is no need to worry, see? There is some mist ahead…” Your father tried to ease your nerves.
You took a deep breath, right, it must be your tired mind playing tricks. The leaves on the ground crunch softly underneath your feet.
I shall give you all the flowers your heart desires. A deep voice said.
The elf from before was standing in a magnificent garden. The lush plants and flowers complimented his beauty.
“What?” You look behind you trying to find some silhouette standing behind the trees, but there was none.
“Easy there,” Your father put a firm hand in your shoulder. “It is just the leaves moving with the wind."
You looked ahead, were you losing your mind? You had heard of cases before; people who had ventured into Mirkwood and hallucinated due to the polluted river water, mumbling non-sense and even falling ill.
Perhaps that was it, your senses had never experienced the atmosphere of the forest before and now they were being assaulted by its air polluted with sickness.
Despite the shudder in your spine urging you to stay still, you resumed your walk. You focused on the path ahead moving with purpose.
Another vision assaulted your senses, the man you had seen before was holding a beautiful big pelt.
My son hunted it, it could be a great fur coat if you so wish it.
“Fur coat…” You repeated as the vision ended.
“Hm, do you think that is what those bushes look like?” Your father hummed, ignorant to your predicament.
While you moved you could hear a faint sound that grew stronger by the minute, running water. It seemed there was a river nearby. The path took a turn that led you to the bank of it. It ran a few feet under, it looked like the course had eroded over the years and that were was a height difference between the forest floor and the river but what shocked you the most was that the water that ran on it was black.
“I know this river. Be careful with it, my child. The water is so dangerous that just coming in contact with it will make you fall in a deep sleep.” Your father warned gravely.
At that, you put some more distance between yourself and the river, but a vision caught you of guard. This time it wasn’t a trance or hallucination like before, it was in front of you, miles away and standing amongst the trees and looking back at you was the most regal creature you could have imagined. A deer with a fur coat pure white like freshly fallen snow and golden antlers. It looked back at you for a moment only to run away.
Come to me, the voice said.
In that moment a splitting headache took over you. You groaned. It felt like the hammer of a master dwarf blacksmith pounding into your head. Your hands moved to your head in reflex. A ringing sound took over your ears. You stumbled and fell to your knees.
“Child? Child!” Your father run to your side and kneeled next to you. “What’s wrong?” He shook your shoulders.
Dark spots appeared in your vision, no matter how many times you blinked they only multiplied. That was it, you had gone completely insane meeting your end and you had not even reached the palace of the elves. You were still in the middle of the forest were any predator or spider could attack you and your father. The energy in your body left you in an instant and the darkness surrounded you without mercy.
Title: Seduce & Destroy (Part Ten)
Summary: A mother is desperate to save her daughter from being married off to the Master of the Town or worse, sold to the brothel for her father to be able to afford drink and rent when he is failing at bringing in money for the household. The mother finds a witch deep in the ancient woods willing to take a sharp cost to bestow safety on the daughter. If it truly ends up as safety… that is yet to be seen.
Pairing: Dark!Thranduil x Fem!Human Reader
Words: 2,121
Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, magical manipulation, mental abuse
Part Nine || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Thranduil did not apologize the next morning for his behavior. He instead ordered you to leave the chambers and occupy yourself while he nursed his hangover. You dined alone at breakfast and then lunch. You only saw him at dinner, and he still looked worse for wear – as did the rest of his court. You seemed to be the only one in the inner circle not suffering from a massive headache.
He grew tired quickly and barely touched his food. And although you were not done eating quite yet, he ordered you to come with him when he was ready to retire. The rabbit on your plate was left and you knew you would feel the pangs of hunger before the morning sun came bringing breakfast.
Thranduil finally slept and you were unable to – it was too early still.
Quietly, you slipped from the bed and made to the door to his chambers, your robes wrapped around you tightly. You were hungry and had become so far sooner than you expected.
Two of the guards at the door fell in line behind you when you walked past – they were almost like a shadow now. You knew the kitchens were further into the kingdom and you also knew that you did not know the way.
Stopping on the stairs, you turned back to the guard, who were standing at attention.
“I… where are the kitchens?”
“If it is food you desire, you should have just told us and we would have asked one of your handmaidens to fetch you a plate,” one of the guards stated. “You can return to the King’s chamber, my lady.”
Having to sit in silence to not wake Thranduil while you waited to dine alone sounded miserable.
You stated, “I would like to accompany them so I can choose what I would like.”
Bolder than you would have been when you first came here. Feeling entitled to choose what it was you ate from their stores.
The other guard spoke now, “That would not be wise. The King will be irate if he finds his chamber empty of you.”
You knew that voice.
Ciardan.
You had not seen him since you had tried to escape the kingdom. But had he been there the whole time, only now with a helmet, faceless? Stationed to a guard to simply watch outside the King’s chambers instead of being free without the helmet?
You owed him at least to not cause him further trouble on your behalf.
Nodding stiffly, you agreed, “Yes, you are right. Please take me back. I’ll trust the handmaidens know what to bring.”
<><><>
The pieces of vine twisted, weaving around each other beneath your hand. A bead of sweat formed at your brow at the energy you were focusing into making the bark expand its root. Expanded outside of the ground, Hebe had promised the tree would not die with the amount exposed to the air. And it was an easy first attempt to try to breath life into the ground this way.
Your eyes followed the root as it stretched further from the base of the parental base. Your hand shook slightly, trying to keep your magic you were harnessing focused.
Then an unexpected darker vine grew from the braid. It was eager to find its way into the braid and you had to raise your other hand to focus and gather its momentum. Using both hands, you coaxed the new into the old to form as one. It was an array of shades of brown and they complimented the other.
A fresh root!
Containing your excitement, you guided the foundling root with the older and drove them both to the soil again. Placing your hand on the ground, you felt it settle and within yourself, you felt peace.
You were beaming as you stared at the spot where you had conjured the beginnings of a weave. But then… emptiness. Your brow furrowed, staring down at the ground. You still felt the root but the life you had felt spark had dwindled. Turning your head, you caught gaze with Hebe.
She looked amused at your response. “That was a good sign.”
“Truly though?”
“You can’t expect to gain everything all at once. A fresh root being conjured is something to be celebrated… even if you felt it didn’t survive beneath the surface without your direct influence.”
So, she had felt it as well? Of course she had, you thought, thinking yourself foolish to think otherwise.
“It’s been so long though,” you commented, feeling the excitement beginning to wane. Doubt was creeping in.
And Hebe knew it too.
“Now don’t discourage yourself. You’ll put yourself in a bad head space.”
“It is hard not to.”
“The only one putting that pressure on you is yourself,” she stated. “I’m certainly not doing it. I would rather you learn properly than sloppily. And most of the time properly means time. You’ve shown talent for the simpler spells. I doubt that you will not do well as we continue to dive in deeper. Would you like to try again?”
“With the same root? Won’t that cause a problem?”
You and Hebe were deep into the cavern – deeper than you had traveled into Mirkwood. You wondered if Thranduil knew exactly where you were. He did not like you to venture too far because far meant more opportunities for exits. Hebe had insisted on this spot because she had been scouting out exposed roots and this one was the healthiest she had discovered. She had little regard for Thranduil’s paranoia.
Hebe chortled, “You worry for the sake of the kingdom? Y/N… this whole kingdom is built on nature. You are not killing it by doing this, I assure you. You may have felt the spark of the new root die because it went too far for you to sense it just yet. But I did not. It is still thriving. And it will continue to thrive.”
The spot where the roots had disappeared caught your attention because they shook slightly. And the youngest root swelled every so slightly in size.
“See?”
When you looked back at Hebe, she smiled softly. “If it had died, it would wither and grow limp when the spell touched it again. It doesn’t matter which person uses the spell, it’s only the strength of the spell itself that matters. I used it myself to test and the root is strong. You did well.”
Her confidence spilled towards you and your shoulders relaxed.
“Dealing with living, breathing matter is different than material without life force. You mastered weaving twine, and you did quite well for your first attempt with life force. If you would like to try with another vine, then that is fine.”
“That one seems like it will do well enough.”
“It will.”
Hebe walked off towards another exposed root and you followed her. You raised your hand, taking a deep breath. But she stilled your movement by turning towards you and you faltered at the look in her eyes. She looked a mixture of determination and contemplation.
“Y/N… Thranduil’s kingdom thrives on nature. If you can learn to mend and control it, you will be indispensable. You must trust me when I tell you that you are doing well and not doubt yourself. Do you promise me?”
She looked almost… desperate for you to agree.
You slowly nodded and she exhaled sharp the breath she had been holding in. “Good… good. Resume.”
<><><>
The sun shined down through the treetops at the spot where Thranduil had had servants set up a spot for the two of you to dine mid-day. The tree line provided safety from the direct sunlight and kept you cool enough. You had yet to venture to the top of the kingdom and Thranduil had his own secluded spot set aside for himself. To your back, there was rock but before, there was a still pond filled with a glistening waterfall and beyond that a straight line of sight over the tops of lower trees. It was a breath of fresh air to be fully above ground.
You picked up a piece of cheese, savoring the salty taste in your mouth.
Thranduil was reclined back on pillows against the rock, comfortable in his sitting position. Beneath you, there were many plush blankets to provide padding against the ground.
You wanted to try out Sindarin, surprise him. Ask him for something to show him what you had been learning. You had been too nervous up to this point outside of your lessons with Hebe and you had specifically been practicing asking for wine. It was something he enjoyed and was important to Elven culture.
Thranduil was almost done with his own glass and was going to serve himself. Best now than ever.
“Lothron im gar-i miruvor?” you asked in a steady voice, eyes trained on him.
Thranduil paused in his movement, his eyes sliding to you. You remained still, sitting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It grew more difficult though the longer he refused to say anything.
Finally, he corrected, “Miruvor.” Your shoulders slumped slightly realizing you had said it incorrectly and that he felt the need to point it out. Thranduil noticed. “Do not slump. Sindarin is a rich language, and it is unnatural for human tongues. You will struggle but you are improving. I will be able to understand you regardless of the accent. If you ever master it or not, I mean. It is unlikely but I have been surprised before.”
He held the wine casket out towards you and poured you a glass.
“You are upset,” he commented, not looking at you.
“No, I’m not,” you replied, picking up the glass.
“You know I despise dishonesty.” You decided to say nothing, and he continued, “I did not intend to offend you, merely point out something that can be easily corrected with practice.”
You refrained from saying that that was not what had offended you. He clearly saw no fault in insinuating you were too daft as a human to ever speak his language.
Instead, you feigned diplomacy, “I’ll remember to take direction with less pride in the future.”
Thranduil hummed in approval as he retracted his hand. You watched his hands, his long fingers reaching to grasp a lemon tart. He caught sight of your watchful eyes and reached to stroke your cheek with his free hand.
“You have come a way, lòth,” he told you. “You would have stayed silent and simmered in your mood before. I applaud you for the growth and displayed maturity.”
His thumb ran across your lips before his hand fell. You could see he was thinking of something as he stared at you. He did not share though, he only made a sound of contentment before bringing the tart to his lips to take a bite, his gaze moving towards the water.
<><><>
The door to Thranduil’s chambers opened and you lowered your book, peering over the top as you waited for the interruption show itself.
A line of servants carrying large trunks in pairs came in – five large trunks. A single servant at the rear was holding a bundle and they waited patiently while the others placed the trunks down, opening the lids. Your book was placed to the side as you sat up in the chaise, curiosity getting the better of you.
The elf holding the bundle threw a glance your way and mentioned, “My lady, you should try this on before we choose which trunk outerwear will be placed in.”
“Try what on?”
They were already unfolding the bundle, coming towards you. “The seamstress crafted you a riding cloak.”
“For?”
“The King requested to speak with you himself once they are back from the hunt.”
You hated waiting for answers but stood as you imagined their arms would tire of holding the cloak up for you sooner rather than later. You slipped into it, the servant working to tie it at your neck. It was heavy with a hood and a rich green. The servant stepped back and clasped their hands in front of you.
“It is not too heavy? Comfortable? It looks to be the right length.”
Your mind was swirling with why on Earth they would bring you a riding cloak but deep down you knew the only reason. You were going to be traveling. For what, you did not yet know.
The cloak was heavy but it would be something you would gladly don if it meant leaving the kingdom for the first time in a couple of years.
Shaking your head, you said with a straight face, “Yes, it is perfect.”
Title: Seduce & Destroy (Part Nine)
Summary: A mother is desperate to save her daughter from being married off to the Master of the Town or worse, sold to the brothel for her father to be able to afford drink and rent when he is failing at bringing in money for the household. The mother finds a witch deep in the ancient woods willing to take a sharp cost to bestow safety on the daughter. If it truly ends up as safety… that is yet to be seen.
Pairing: Dark!Thranduil x Fem!Human Reader
Words: 1,609
Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, magical manipulation, mental abuse
Author’s Note: Okay, so after a huuuuuge mental block with writing in general over the course of the last 10 months and especially this story because I couldn’t decide or really picture the direction, I’ve got it. I promise more Hebe and reader content (magic related, not sexulaly, lol) next chapter!
Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
(the watermark for the thranduil photo is still on there - this pic was found on pinterest and i was unable to find a link to the artist)
<><><>
Thranduil was drunk. That much was clear. The king loved his wine, that was for certain. And there were many nights where you knew he had drunk his fill. But tonight was something else entirely. You did not think it possible to imbibe as many goblets as he had and the fact he was still standing astounded you. He was full in his celebration of the New Year.
He was looser, his laughter hearty. It was a thing to behold – him sounding genuine in his laughter. You were unsure if you should feel touched by the sight of the generally tepid king so jovial or if you should keep your distance. Not that you could wander far, especially with the guard. He spoke of past parties’ memories with his court, warm memories, and you listened.
Thranduil merely guffawed when one of the court wandered off and it was reported back that they had drank themselves sick. Apparently that happened to at least one of the court at celebrations such as this.
Legolas was relaxed, leg swung over his chair, and loosely holding his goblet as he drank. He had not said one bordering on rude comment or sent an unkind glance your way throughout the night. There was no way you would let your guard down around him though; you kept your drinking to a place where you were warm, but the world was not a blur.
The celebration dragged on into the night and the food never seemed to disappear – the servants kept watchful eyes to make sure plates were full. The candles burned bright still, the music swelling and dipping. Some elves had pulled down ropes of the snowdrop and daffodil garlands to weave individual crowns. They danced, although now it seemed harder to keep their footing, but the mood was high.
Despite the energy still thrumming, your eyelids were beginning to become heavy. Thranduil found his seat beside you again and you opened your mouth to speak but he was not paying attention. His glass was empty and before he had a chance to beckon a servant, your hand came to rest on his arm that he had raised. It stalled his movement and his head turned to you. The intoxication was swimming in his eyes.
Leaning towards him, you told him quietly, “This celebration has been grand, and I’ve been pleased to partake. A beautiful party for your people. But I am finding myself fading from the excitement and would like to retire.”
Thranduil’s hand moved to come to brush at your cheek. His tongue peeked between his lips as his eyes trailed over your face before coming to meet your gaze. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and something lit in his expression.
It was then you had a sinking feeling it would still be awhile before you chased sleep.
Standing once more, he turned – a small stumble as he faced you – before holding out his hand to you.
“You’re quite right. The party has been splendid – one of the best. But it is growing late and I do not wish to see you fall asleep in your chair. You should be comfortable. Come.”
Thranduil bid his crowd to continue their jubilee in his absence before leading you away. A gaggle of guards fell in line behind the pair of you to escort you to his chambers.
A hand skirted across your bare shoulders. Twirled up into your hair and skirted down your neck. He was not keeping his hands to himself as you made your way through the halls. Soon his fingers were pulling at your bodice strings, and you tried to walk quicker to get to the stairs leading up to his chambers. He was impatient and you did not want him to continue trying to undo your gown before you were in the privacy of his room. In his state, he seemed to have lost care for propriety.
You did not make it up five steps before he was on you. His movement was swift and pointed much to your shock – his hands swooped you up underneath you and placed you onto the stairs above where he stood. Before you could ask what in the world he was doing, he knelt on the stairs to position himself between your legs. Your eyes bugged, realizing he was meaning to take you outside his chambers. You frantically looked over his shoulder down the hall where the guards had not ascended and had instead taken places against the wall, not paying mind to what was about to transpire. They acted as if they were statues.
Your skin was set alight as his hands dove up your dress and his fingers came into contact with your bare legs. And your cheeks burned knowing that you could so easily be exposed to the guards below if Thranduil happened to move a certain way to give them or anyone else who happened to come into the hall view.
“My lord?” you squeaked, hands coming down to push at your skirts to try to cover yourself again.
“I’m here,” he assured you, slapping your hands away. He trailed kisses up your thigh towards your sex.
Not deterred by his slapping, you tried to push him away again and his fingers dug into your thighs in response, and he came up to catch your mouth with his. When he pulled away again, you were breathless.
“What… what are you doing?” you asked him, voice shaking.
His eyes were dark, and he informed you, “I will taste you. I’ve thought about your sweetness all night. It was not until you asked to retire that I realized I could not wait any longer.”
“My King, you have had much wine. We are not in your chambers—” you tried to reason.
“I can do as I please,” Thranduil cut you off, pushing your skirts further up.
He was coming at you again and it took everything in you to not place your hands on his head through the bunched-up fabric to push him away from you. That would certainly not go over well to accost him in such a manner, especially in front of his guards. You looked towards them again, but they were still standing, staring straight ahead stiffly.
“Please, you must—” you raised your voice towards them to try to plead to them to intervene but squeaked again when Thranduil nipped at your inner thigh, his breath hot. You adjusted, trying to move your sex away from his desperate kisses.
He was not listening. His hands gripped your hips tight, yanking you to his waiting mouth. His tongue lapped up flat and hungry, teasing to dip into you.
“Your grace, we should retire before indulging in the other,” you spoke rushed, still squirming to halt his advance to no avail now with his grip on you. Another lick and his tongue did dip now. Your breath hitched, “What your people will think if they find you and I in the halls engaged in such an intimate act?”
You went ignored and gasped erotically when his tongue delved, licking at your nub. Your neck was burning with embarrassment at the position he was putting you in.
“It is unbecoming!” you snapped, losing your patience. You shifted roughly, using your knee to push his shoulder in a fluid motion. You succeeded in getting his tongue away from you but you had irritated him. He jerked away and his mouth was in a thin line. Your voice was still raised, “You told me I was not to be treated like a whore like my father meant for it to be. Are you going to break your vow?”
The crackle of the torches lighting the hallway and the party far off in the distance were the only sounds beside yours and Thranduil’s heavy breaths as you stared the other down. You had already irked him and you wanted – nay, needed – to stand your ground. It was one thing to have his people know of your affair but to treat you this way? He was far too drunk, and you wondered if he would have shame in the morning. If he would recall it at all.
His gaze was boring into you, threatening you to say anything further. There was no need, you had said what you had wished to – made a very damn good point if you were honest.
A sharp exhale left him, and he stood abruptly, swaying. You braced for him to tumble over onto you at the movement, but he caught himself on the wall.
“Get up,” he ordered. You did so and began to straight out your skirt but he stopped your movement as his large hand grasped your face roughly; you winced at the pressure. “You forget yourself, lóth. You will not raise your voice to me. Ever. Do you understand me? I rule over you, not the other way around.” You nodded and his fingers flexed, eyes searching your face. He seemed satisfied with your answer. “Good.”
Letting go, he told you, “You may continue to my chambers.”
Turning, you hid your hands that were shaking. But thanking the stars above that you would find privacy upstairs and that the guards had witnessed you trying to protect the dignity of their king. You could not imagine what rumors would have swirled about you allowing him to take you apart in public when he was intoxicated as he was.
You hoped that would win some favor amongst the elves and help to continue your assimilation into their society. A bitter win for the night.
Title: Seduce & Destroy (Part Eight)
Summary: A mother is desperate to save her daughter from being married off to the Master of the Town or worse, sold to the brothel for her father to be able to afford drink and rent when he is failing at bringing in money for the household. The mother finds a witch deep in the ancient woods willing to take a sharp cost to bestow safety on the daughter. If it truly ends up as safety… that is yet to be seen.
Pairing: Dark!Thranduil x Fem!Human Reader
Words: 2,132
Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, magical manipulation, mental abuse
Part Seven || Part Nine || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
“I am asking for your counsel.”
“Regarding?”
“Y/N is human. That presents some challenges for what I desire. This… deal with Hebe may be an answer to that. But I have some reservations still.”
Elrond knew what Thranduil desired. It was clear that he would want Y/N differently than she was… a mortal.
“I have to say I was quite surprised to find her – especially a human – here under your wing as she is.” Elrond was being polite about how he was phrasing Y/N’s position in Thranduil’s kingdom.
“Unorthodox?”
“That is a fine word for it,” Elrond agreed.
Thranduil ran his finger along the arm of his chair, overlooking the cavern surrounding them. It was quiet in this part of the kingdom, specifically why Thranduil had chosen it to speak with Elrond. Less ears to overhear their conversation. Elrond tapped his foot, peering at Thranduil. When he realized that he was not going to speak, he dove in.
“You have concerns. Rightfully so,” Elrond started. Thranduil was unmoving, letting him speak, but Elrond could see he was attentive. “You know as well as I that Hebe serves herself first. Surely there is something lurking that you have not thought of? Some way she can get you caught up and you are blindsided? I would have those concerns – I do have those concerns. But a part of me as well can see Hebe is truthful in her eagerness to pass on the responsibility. Then again, realizing that, one has to question why.”
Thranduil pointed out, “She said she was tired and ready to rest. That is not uncommon. We have known many who have gone on to find their rest once they grow too weary.”
“That is true,” Elrond mused. He exhaled deeply before asking, “You mean to keep that magic within the Woodland Realm I presume?”
“Where else do you suggest I keep it?” Thranduil asked, an edge to his tone.
“I am not challenging you to bring it – her – to Rivendell if that is what has got you tense, Thranduil,” Elrond stated evenly. He knew even the suggestion of removing Y/N would not go over well with Y/N and he meant to squash that debate before it even started. “I was simply asking a question. You ask for my counsel and is it so outlandish that I inquire about the situation?”
Thranduil breathed evenly and responded, “No. It is not. Yes… I plan on keeping her here. Hebe is right that she will be safe here under my watch.”
“And if requirements of Y/N taking on this power are to travel? What if she is not always here? Hebe was not one for staying in one place for too long. And as we both know well, sorcereresses, wizards, and the like are the same. Restlessness grows with magic.”
Thranduil did not answer, staring off again. Elrond suspected Thranduil had not considered this yet and worried what was going on in his thoughts.
“I don’t expect Y/N to want to stray,” Thranduil answered.
Both of them were interrupted by footsteps approaching and they turned their attention to the door. Legolas appeared in the doorway and stopped seeing the two of them.
“My apologies. I did not mean to interrupt. I was seeking my father,” Legolas explained himself.
Elrond picked up on the implication and stood from his chair. “I will grant you some time. And I will return to finish as we certainly did not connect on all matters?” He directed the last at Thranduil. Thranduil gave a curt nod and Elrond nodded in return. “Then I will expect to see you later.”
He left and Legolas did not waste any more time. He strolled up to where Thranduil was sitting and demanded, “You do know Y/N is with the witch?”
“I am aware, Legolas,” Thranduil responded, sounding tight. “I will be joining them shortly.”
Brow furrowed in confusion, Legolas asked, “You are allowing the witch to teach Y/N?”
“As of right now, yes. Things are always subject to change.”
“But why? How can you trust her?”
Thranduil leveled him with a piqued stare, “Are you asking that in regard of Hebe or Y/N?”
“Both!” Legolas stated firmly. Thranduil sighed, standing from his seat, and Legolas quickly added with an air of annoyance, “I don’t like when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Sigh at me. As if what I am saying is a completely unfounded worry. You have been doing it frequently as of late.”
“I did not say that it was unfounded. But Y/N learned her lesson from last time. She will not try to venture out again. And she has no qualms with my realm – why should I fear her?”
“Hebe?” Legolas pressed.
“Hebe… is at an impasse and is reaching out to me for help.”
“How do you know it’s not a trick?”
“Hebe is not one to lie.”
“Then why warn us about her for so long?”
“Because she held no allegiance and sat out during the war. I had yet to forgive that passive behavior as the world threatened to burn down around her. We could have used her help. Tremendously. I daresay she was not even paying attention to the war at all… only hid behind her enchantments because she knew she would survive no matter the outcome.”
Legolas questioned, “So now that she comes out of hiding and offers you something like this, you abandon all caution?”
“I do not need you questioning me, Legolas. I am keeping myself on my toes and assessing the situation at it develops. Like I said, everything is subject to change and that can be at a moment’s notice. No need to go getting ourselves worked up. Now, was there something else you wished to discuss with me? Or may I go assess the situation to see how Y/N is receiving this education Hebe is trying to pass to her?”
Thranduil was studying Legolas silently and Legolas’ lips pursed, falling silent as well because he knew when he was toeing a line with his father. Legolas looked like he wanted to say more and Thranduil knew his son had more he wanted to say, yet, he stayed quiet. Better to stop while he was ahead and still on mutual meeting ground than let the conversation take a downward turn. He exhaled, waiting for Thranduil to respond.
“I will take that as I can leave. If you are so concerned Legolas, feel free to join me and see for yourself.”
<><><>
You stared at Hebe, heat coming to your cheeks. The question had caught you off guard, and your answer would surely give away the ineptitude of your education if you could even call it that. Thranduil assumed as much from the moment he met you but letting Hebe know seemed more embarrassing. She was teaching you and not just any old subject matter either.
Hebe picked up on the truth in your reaction so there was no escaping it. “It may be for the better that you do not have the Westron education. You won’t be bound by its rules and imagery. It may make Sindarin come all that much easier to you.”
Your voice was small, “I don’t even know how to speak Sindarin.”
“And I’m sure the King will be just thrilled when you master it in both tongue and writing. The elves – as I’m sure you’ve noticed – are very haughty about their language.”
“Which makes it all the more frightening to know I must learn.”
“Do you fear the King’s perfectionism and his critical eye?”
She could read you like a book and truth be told, who would answer anything other than ‘yes’ when asked that?
“It would make it less intimidating if he was easier to please,” you admitted.
“I think he may grant you more grace than others, so you have that working in your favor,” Hebe responded. She came closer with a large book and placed it before you. “Until I am able to ask Thranduil about the books they use to instruct their young, we will have to start out with something a bit more difficult, but it will give you an introduction. Have you even seen Sindarin written out?” You shook your head and she said, “Well, won’t this be a treat for you?”
You were only interrupted by Thranduil and Legolas briefly, them checking in to see what was transpiring. Thranduil confirmed with Hebe that they did in fact have instruction books specifically for teaching young elves their language and they were fetched. Thranduil seemed pleased you were studying his language and agreed with Hebe it was necessary not only for what she was teaching but you would thrive better if you were able to converse and understand the elves in the kingdom.
Legolas naturally looked suspicious and downright displeased about the situation but he was silent, watching you like a hawk. Sometimes he set you more on edge than Thranduil and you were grateful when the two of them left you and Hebe to your beginning lessons.
<><><>
Thranduil’s long fingers traced along your bare arm, and you stayed still. His eyes were searching the design of your gown for the New year celebration. The air outside was still bit with morning frost and chilly nights. But the weather was warming. New Year celebrations had been lackluster back home, not much of an affair outside of the Master bestowing gifts on the few who groveled at his feet the most earnestly – embarrassing was a more apt term to describe the sight.
You were sure the two day festival of Mettare and Yettare here in Thranduil’s kingdom would be an event to behold. The fact he was being so particular about the craftsmanship of your gown alone spoke volumes. He insisted on your presentation, but he had sent this gown back thrice to the seamstress and it was only two days away now. Not enough beading, the skirt did not sway just so, a seam had been off… his attention to detail could try on anyone’s patience. Not that anyone could openly express that. But over the last six months that you had been in Thranduil’s realm, you were sure you had started to be able to pick up on the slight give aways in Elvish expressions.
He circled you fully multiple times before coming to a stop to your right. You waited with baited breath along with the servants.
“Three times is quite a number but eventually projects must be completed,” he spoke. His hand ran down across the bodice and he commented, “It settles on her just right.”
That was a good comment, right?
“This will do now. It reflects the green that has begun to return to u. the skirt sways like the leaves and grass in a gentle spring breeze.”
You held back the heavy sigh of relief that you had almost let slip.
“Are you sure you only want your clothes mended, my lord?” the seamstress asked him. Thranduil had not requested new clothes for himself for the celebration. And you had a feeling that the seamstress was probing to see if he had mind to change his decision last minute and thrust work into her lap.
“I am content with my robes; no need to fuss over crafting new ones,” Thranduil responded. “Y/N’s will match mine as planned, so all is well.”
Thranduil tapped at your side and ordered, “Step down. Let them help you out of it. We do not need anything to spoil it before the affair.”
‘Anything’. You believed he meant you but he had also been antsy the last days. Perhaps there was something troubling him, and he was expecting misfortune in any form.
You did as he commanded, taking the hand he offered for balance. Thranduil made no move to leave as the handmaids came closer to help undress you. Modesty had long ago been lost between the two of you and it was common now for him to stick around in your dressing chambers.
He was speaking to your closest handmaid about the flowers for your hair that were to be gathered the morning of the festival and you listened silently. Sometimes you felt like a doll especially when Thranduil got like this. But the celebration you hoped would entertain and distract you.
And now that you were getting back into your normal clothes, that meant a lesson with Hebe. The magic was yours to eventually master and having something completely to yourself granted some sense of autonomy. You were itching to start trying to perform simple spells now that Hebe had agreed you were proficient enough in reading them and a small smile came to you at the thought as your day gown’s bodice was tied.
Title: Seduce & Destroy (Part Seven)
Summary: A mother is desperate to save her daughter from being married off to the Master of the Town or worse, sold to the brothel for her father to be able to afford drink and rent when he is failing at bringing in money for the household. The mother finds a witch deep in the ancient woods willing to take a sharp cost to bestow safety on the daughter. If it truly ends up as safety… that is yet to be seen.
Pairing: Dark!Thranduil x Fem!Human Reader
Words: 2,939
Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, magical manipulation, mental abuse
Part Six || Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
You woke to Thranduil tracing lazy circles along your arm. Tiredly you blinked and found him close. You were lying flat next to him, and he was leaning toward you. You guessed he had been watching you sleep; there was an adoring look in his eyes. His body was keeping you warm in the brisk morning air with how he had you tucked up against him.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked in hushed tones.
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?” He asked with some concern.
You gave a curt shrug and said, “It was hard to sleep soundly after what happened yesterday when I… ran off. It was frightening. I could not stop thinking about it.”
“Not even after we fatigued ourselves?” Thranduil questioned, a coquettish undertone to his voice as his hand came up to rest on your abdomen. The implication was not lost on you, and you did not for a second want him to think you had not been satisfied with the sex.
“That did help,” you admitted quickly in a squeak. Thranduil’s lips moved as if he meant to smirk and you explained, “But I feel guilt about leaving.”
Thranduil sighed lightly, “As you should. And I am glad you have the humility about you to admit it. A lesson was learned then I gather?”
You nodded and his fingers trailed up your abdomen up between your breasts. Your skin goosebumped at his proximity to your sensitive peaks and you stayed your breath as his hand came to curl around your neck, his thumb tracing affectionately beneath your jaw.
“I will order breakfast to be brought to us.” You tensed at the thought of the servants coming in to give you breakfast and finding you and Thranduil intertwined like you were. Thranduil noticed your expression and he said, “Is there a problem?”
You licked your bottom lip, stalling. You met his gaze, bashful, and asked, “I… well… the staff?”
“Yes? I will tell the staff to bring it.”
He clearly did not have the same unease about the situation as you did. You asked directly then to stop dancing around the subject, “Are we to going to get out of bed and get dressed?”
Thranduil was amused. “I am assuming that you are sheepish about being found out?” You gave a slight nod and he exhaled deeply, brushing at the edges of your hair, searching your face. “Do you truly believe what transpired between us is not already common knowledge? It is not hard to piece together. You, brought here to the kingdom. Sharing adjacent quarters with me… sitting close to me… and then into my own private chambers?”
All of that was true. All signs pointed towards this happening but to actually have them see it was another matter entirely.
“But… what about modesty?”
His hand left your face and ran down your arm and onto your side where he gripped tight. He leaned further over you and his lips brushed at yours as he said, “I am King. I can do as I wish.”
His lips pressed to yours hungrily, his hand sliding further down to the apex of your sex. You responded, spreading your thighs ever so, allowing him what he wished. Your kisses became deeper, more passionate as his fingers slid between your folds.
“I have no shame about being found in bed with my prize,” Thranduil breathed harshly, lips moving across yours sloppily. You whined as he circled your clit, rotating your hips with his movements. “And you, you should be proud to grace a King’s bed. Are you proud that you hold my attention?”
Nodding fervently, your hand came up to grasp at his shoulder as his hand worked quicker. Your admission caused him to groan lightly in approval.
“Breakfast after,” Thranduil husked out before diving back in towards your mouth.
<><><>
You sat stiff as a board as you were practicing the order to use utensils and which ones for each meal. Thranduil had let it slide that you had been using the wrong ones it seemed – at least in person. He had specifically asked this instructor to teach you because it would be offensive the longer you were here if you continued the misuse. He had gone to finish the last of his discussions with Elrond – since you had interrupted them with your little adventure.
“You must also make it look natural to sit like that. You look like someone has a sword to your back, threatening you. You must be graceful,” Idril directed.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to will yourself to relax.
She did not seem impressed but said clipped, “The more you consciously think about it, the more you will make it a habit.”
That did not sound natural at all if you were always preoccupied thinking about it, you thought sourly. But maybe the logic would prove to be true, and it would become natural over time. You needed to remember that this was serving a purpose. Not only to please Thranduil but to fit in more naturally with the elves. If you were going to live here, you needed to emulate their customs, their movements, their states of being. You had put forth effort already, but you had been lackluster at your attempt, only wanting to preserve for a short period of time because you had planned to leave. This was going to be permanent.
So, you took another deep breath and reached forward, movement controlled, to pick up the next utensil while keeping your torso in a straight line as you leaned. You would please the King, not only for your feelings of attraction but because he was your rock here.
<><><>
Hebe joined you, Elrond, and Thranduil at lunch. There were tense pleasantries exchanged to begin with. Most of the tenseness from Thranduil’s side; Hebe seemed far more relaxed than you would expect her to be. It must be rare for someone to not feel unease in Thranduil’s presence. You wondered what her story was. She and Thranduil must go back if Tauriel had been warned about her.
Elrond was polite in his questioning of how Hebe had stumbled across you. A small group of his guard had gone out with Thranduil’s as assistance. You felt embarrassed that Elrond had felt the need to do that because of your choice – some of his kin could have been eaten by those giant spiders. Since last night, you had thought over and over again about how foolish you had been, even after it was clear you were forgiven and Thranduil still wanted you around. And wanted you around in a very intimate way. You felt heat rise again thinking of his trailing lips and tried desperately to push the thought out of your mind and focus on Hebe and Elrond’s conversation.
“The last I heard, you were moving north towards the withered heath. Which I thought was… an interesting choice,” Elrond was commenting, shooting her a look across the table as he cracked the shell of his egg to peel it.
“A lie to get beings off my trail,” Hebe responded. “I stayed in northern Mirkwood.”
“I can say I always knew you were cunning.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“As you should,” Thranduil chimed in and you turned your gaze to him, interested to see where the conversation was going. Elrond and Hebe had looked at him as well as he cut up his venison. “You’re knowledgeable in your arts. And I do owe a debt to you regarding making sure Y/N was not harmed on her… excursion.” You stayed quiet, shoving a forkful of greens into your mouth and chewed slowly to avoid having to speak.
There were a few moments of silence, Elrond being respectful about the exchange between the two of them.
Placing her hands by the sides of her plate, utensils still gripped, Hebe questioned, “Is this you accepting my favor?”
Thranduil drug his eyes from her to find yours and you sat suspended until he said, “You are to learn from Hebe.”
You did not miss the look of shock that briefly passed Elrond’s features before he masked it quickly. Elves were not immune to being caught off guard it seemed. But yet, he said nothing still.
Clearing your throat, you inquired, “Learn what, my grace?”
“The old ways that have been passed down through generation with her lineage. It is not familial based but chosen based on the judgment of the person currently holding the knowledge. She has chosen you to carry on the way of the wayward witches.”
Your eyes shot to Hebe who was taking a generous drink of her wine.
Thranduil dragged your attention back, “It needs to pass on. Hebe is… thousands of years old.” That caught you unaware; she certainly did not look that old. “I’m not quite sure what the intention is of requesting it is you specifically, but –”
“I trust you to keep her safe, your grace,” Hebe cut in and you almost sucked in your breath at the interruption. Who had the gall to interrupt a King? Apparently her, and Thranduil’s thin line at his lips was an indication he was not pleased. “She will learn from me yes, but she also needs a safe space to practice and garner higher skill. I cannot be around always and – forgive me, Y/N, it is merely a term – she will be in an infantile stage of wielding the magic for quite some time. Having the shield you provide her in your kingdom to grow into the role will prove advantageous. It’s more than ideal, from my point of view, that is. There has yet been this opportunity for me to seriously consider passing the gift on into safe hands.”
You were silent, taking all of that in.
When Thranduil spoke, your lips parted in surprise, “No harm will come to her unless she disobeys me. I know what is best for her safety and I think she has learned to trust me when I give an order…. Your magic and doctrine will be safe with her. I’ll make sure of it.”
Elrond rose his brows in surprise but said nothing. You were curious what he thought about the matter but did not have the courage to ask.
“That pleases me, Thranduil,” Hebe said. “I presume we can start soon?”
“You may take her after we finish our meal. Lord Elrond and I have finishing matters to discuss. I will join you after we are finished if you are still together.” He shot you a look and added, “Think of this as an introductory meeting. Take it seriously to learn what you are to face and what you are taking on. Understand?”
You nodded, feeling a little numb. You were nervous. Nothing about you was magical. Could she truly pass something like her knowledge and power onto you without that? You were not going to voice these concerns this early to avoid planting seeds of doubt before you were given a chance. You only hoped it would turn out fruitful. It would fill a void… to learn something and gain some sense of independence while you were under the King’s wing.
<><><>
“Do you realize what power you hold here?” Hebe questioned you.
She was circling around you, sizing you up. It was different now that it was just the two of you in this ‘chamber’ of the kingdom. It was isolated from the main chambers where you could overlook the walkways and doors. No, you two were almost entirely alone save the guards standing by the door; you were not allowed to be alone without guard even with Hebe. A price to pay for your disobedience towards Thranduil.
“I don’t wish to hold power over him.”
“It doesn’t have to be over him, child. It can be—”
“I’m not a child,” you cut in, offended.
“Compared to me you are.” Your lips were a thin line, unamused. Hebe continued having clearly seen the disdain but ignoring it purposefully, “It can be alongside him. The power I mean.”
That sounded absurd to you. You stammered before getting out, “The elves hate me.”
“No… they do not. They just need to get used to you.”
“Which means... they hate me right now.”
“They don’t hate you, Y/N. They’re confused why their King has taken an infatuation with a mortal. If you were a dwarf, yes I would agree that they hate you. But elves – despite their superiority complex – do not hate men innately.” She finally came to stand before you and cocked her head. “Thranduil had a queen.”
You had suspected that obviously considering Thranduil. But it was really the only time outside of Legolas that someone had brought it up.
“I knew her. She was magnificent. Graceful. Dutiful to her people. And courageous to a fault. She rode into battle alongside her soldiers – just as Thranduil did, and I can assure you he will if it ever arises again. That’s a true leader. So, you can understand why his clan would be perplexed to why he chose what seems like a random woman from Lake Town to warm his bed. Not to say you are not the things she was, but you haven’t been given the chance to prove it. It was very sudden. And he has kept you hidden away for the most part, no?”
“I mean… I was allowed to explore at my leisure—”
“But he never kept you around his court more than for meals, correct?”
What she was saying was true.
“No… he didn’t.”
“Hmm. He is saving your best for himself. He wishes to protect you,” Hebe stated. Your expression said it all and she chuckled, “Yes. Though, I do not blame him. Finding attraction after such a loss and good love… of course he would be overprotective.”
“Then what did you do to make him trust you to let me learn from you?” you questioned.
Hebe pointed and winked. “And that’s why I think it is best for you to be my pupil.” You raised an eyebrow in question, and she explained, “That question. Your curiosity.”
“You didn’t know that when you saved me.”
“Well, of course not. I didn’t go into this with this scenario in mind. I just saw you, someone who looked like what the scouts were looking for and hoped to get Thranduil to bend to my will, as it were.”
“What was it originally?”
“A favor.”
“For?”
Hebe smirked, “It was unknown. I merely wanted the blessing to have his ear when I needed it. My child, you don’t need to have a complete clear goal in mind when making plans, only a general direction. And tailor it as you go. I daresay my general plan worked out for the best. I not only received my favor, I now have who I think to carry on my lineage and grant me reprieve.”
You were quiet and she clasped her hands, walking towards you.
“This is a favor I asked of Thranduil. To use you. Because he sees you as property.” You flinched and she nodded. “I know. I know you must feel a certain way about it. But I recognized it and I know Thranduil is not one to be crossed, especially with things he holds dear. I had to go the route I did to ensure I was being respectful towards him because he holds the power here. And now… as we have our time together, I am asking you for your permission. I respect Thranduil, he is a formidable leader. A great person to have on your side. And he is wise. As he is King and has brought you into his fold, you are an extension of him and that is a relationship I had to acknowledge. But you are also your own person. Will you accept the training?”
You were unsure if she was being serious or not but you staying silent and examining her only to find her reflecting the same back – and with confidence, unsteady – you realized she was. She was truly asking for you to agree to learn what she was offering.
It was true you did not want power over Thranduil – or anyone else, for that matter. The thought of it made you physically ill. But… to have some type of control, some type of power over your situation, was intriguing. Whatever Hebe could teach was valuable and you were open to carrying her knowledge on. It would give you purpose.
Meeting her eyes with confidence, you said, “I want to learn.”
Her smile was one of gratitude more than anything else.
And then you heard footsteps.
Turning your heads, you saw Legolas appear near the doorway and he faltered seeing you to so close. The guards were of no matter to him, he did not even spare them a glance. Legolas eyed the pair of you suspiciously and you straightened up further.
“My prince?” you questioned.
“I am sorry to interrupt, I was merely on a walk. Fancy finding you two here though.”
“We are just meeting, your grace. A formality at best,” Hebe answered for you.
Legolas’ eyes flicked to Hebe once more before he said to you, “I’ll see you at dinner.”
With that, he turned on his heel and took off steadily. You furrowed your brow in confusion and Hebe drew your attention with a snort.
“Legolas is not fond of me… But that is a story for another time. For now, I will try to give you an introductory history lesson of my kin…”
