King Thranduil - Tumblr Posts
Unseelie Thranduil edit
Original art: The Time of Spells
Created by: Candra at deviantart
Edit by: @0chemicalwaste0
Myrcelle looking at Ithil and Legolas: I shitted that out. It was painful.
Myrcelle: I'm cold. Thranduil: Here, take my hoodie. *meanwhile* Legolas: I'm cold. Ithil: I can't control the weather, Legolas.
Thranduil: This food is too hot... I can't eat it. Myrcelle: You’re very hot, and I still eat you. Everyone at the table: *silence* Lindir: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING! Elrond: One dinner... I just want ONE DINNER!
Alvina: Why aren't there friend pick-up lines? Pick up lines to make friends like- Alvina, to Elrond: Hey, that's a cute outfit. You know where it would look better? On nobody else, because you're a beautiful individual. Thranduil, to Lindir: Be my friend or I'll set your entire family on fire. Myrcelle: There are two types of people.
hardest of hearts - masterlist
(the hobbit fanfiction)
summary: this is a story about an ancient group of elves who where known to be extinct, turning from legend to myth. until one day Gandalf finds a survivor and asks her to join an unexpected journey with a bunch of dwarfs and a lone hobbit. will this journey risk not just her life but her sanity or will she find her truth and finally confront her demons? after all she hasn’t been seen since the Second Age.
warning(s): will contain mature content and death, you have been warned and this is sorta slow burn
prologue
chapter one
i don’t own the hobbit or lord of the rings or avariels but i do own my own characters and their story lines of sorts. also all the information on the avariels i did get from the internet.
tags: @emrfangirl @nikkitc0703 @sugarandspicebutnonice
hardest of hearts - chapter one
hardest of hearts masterlist
prologue
a/n: first all i would just like to say thank you to all who have liked, comment, reblogged, and read my story so far! and second of all, in this chapter you still won’t know that of the woman’s name (for reasons) which will sort of be addressed in the next chapter. okay, well please sit back relax and enjoy!
chapter warning(s): nothing much only that of sadness
chapter one: deep in the old forest
song: experience
Deep in the Old Forest bordering that of The Shire does live a woman who hides in the shadows, concealed by the darkness and tanglement of trees. She was never to step foot out of her small cottage in fear of the monsters that lay awake, listening to her every move. So when a knock sounded at her door late in the afternoon, her heart rate started to quicken as she had thought that of the worst. Not knowing what to do, she pulled her cloak tighter around her body with the hood covering the majority of her face as she made her way to the sound. Her hands shaking as she ever so slightly cracked open her front door.
Looking through the small crevice that separated her from the outside world, she didn’t see much, only that of the color grey. “Who’s there?” the woman’s voice that of a whisper.
“It has been a while since I have seen you last, but surely I am not that easy to forget. Am I?” the voice on the other side of the door responded with a slight chuckle.
Before she could stop herself her body acted on its own accord, pulling the door wide open. Casting her eyes on the man in front of her, she let out a shaky breath believing that this was just another trick of her mind. Hesitantly she raised her hand toward the man's face afraid that if she made any sudden movements he would disappear out of thin air. With the touch of an angel she laid her hand on his cheek, feeling his life running under his skin through her palm. “Gandalf, is that...is that really you?”
With a smile tugging at his mouth and unshed tears glistening in his eyes Gandalf responded, “It is I Mellon Nin.” In that moment no more words were of need to be spoken, the silence hanging between them said enough.
With a shake of her head followed by a dainty laugh she snapped out of the moment as she dropped her hand from the man's face, “How rude of me, please do come in.” Ushering him inside her home she quickly glanced around the forest making sure that somebody or something didn’t follow his trail. Locking the door behind her, she turned around dropping her hood letting Gandalf see that of a face he hadn’t seen since the Second Age. To him she had grown even more mesmerising than he remembered her to be.
Her eyes being larger and more expressive than the other features on her face, her irises shifting from a cloud grey to a sky blue as light bends around her. Her hair could be compared to the peaks of her once home in the Grey Mountains a white silver in tone, long like her former kin he presumed but couldn’t tell as for it was styled into an updo fashion. Her cheekbones sat high on her heart shaped face complementing the air of haughtiness that clung to her.
She bore the manner of grace and poise compared to thousands of years ago when instead she bore that of restlessness and ignorance. Ended were the years of childhood and adolescence as now she had grown into that of a woman, whose wings he had still not seen. Her wings, which he could only imagine were under the thickness of her cloak, must be even more exquisite than they were when she was just a child.
Before he could think upon it anymore his thoughts were interrupted by the woman's gentle voice, “To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”
“Is there a place we can sit and talk? I have been on my feet all day it seems.”
“Of course, please follow me,” Gandalf trailed after the elven woman into a small kitchen where in the corner sat a small breakfast nook which he gladly took a seat at. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”
“Red wine would be lovely, dear.” With elegance the woman poured the wizard a glass of wine, setting it down in front of him waiting for him to state his reason for the very unexpected visit. Downing his drink in three large gulps, he smacked his lips together before letting out a long breath followed by his answer to her earlier question. “Thorin Oakenshield and his company of dwarves are going to reclaim the kingdom of Erebor in part with the treasure from Smaug and in order to do so they need a burglar and a guide. The burglar will be that of a Hobbit, now the guide on the other hand I was hoping would be you.”
Dark eyebrows furrowed, the woman didn’t know what to think. “Out of all those in the land you could have asked, you chose me. To guide them to a dragon of all living things,” the woman slightly snarled before gaining composure. “You know what those creatures have done to my kin, but yet you still ask. Why?” Disappointment couldn’t help but shine on the woman's elven features.
“I know what I ask of you is difficult, Mellon Nin. Though you are the only one that knows these lands better than myself.” Lightly grabbing her hands in his, he continued. “You are the only one I trust to steer these dwarves in the right direction for I won’t be there throughout their whole journey. All I ask is for you to guide them and nothing more, just to get them to the mountain safely.”
Taking her hands out of his soft grip, the woman walked a few steps away from where the man sat trying to get a little bit of distance from him in order for her to clear her head and think. Upset, she turned her back to him and started gripping the kitchen sink causing it to creak under her palms. “It is getting dark. I think it would be best for you to leave now,” she couldn’t help but to dismiss him as all she wanted to be was alone.
Making a small humming noise in the back of his throat, the man got up out of his seat, collected his things, and started to head for the point of both entry and exit. Just as his hand came in contact with the door handle, the woman began to speak once more. “I-I’m not certain I can do what you ask of me, but I will sleep on it. I'm sorry it seems that is all I can give to you for now.”
Smirking lightly the wizard dressed in grey opened the door, but not before parting with a few last words. “Very well then dear, if you decide that you are up for the journey myself and the company of Thorin Oakenshield will be passing through Buckland sometime in the early morning. It was wonderful seeing you again and for I hope this is not the last time either as that red wine was quite delicious.” And just like that the front door slammed shut while a lone tear slid down the elven woman's cheek.
Later in the night, the woman couldn’t help but toss and turn in her bed, more tears escaping her eyes as a memory of her former life plagued her mind like a dream..
Her father had arrived earlier in the day, back to Forlond, after being gone for more than three days straight. And now with her siblings absent she was sitting on his left hand side as dinner was served before them, a question resting on the tip of her tongue but knew not to speak of it, scared that her father would get angry. Unfortunately for her she could never hide her feelings and somehow they most always made their way onto her face.
“Anna,” not her name, instead a term of endearment her father used whenever speaking to her. “What is it that is troubling you?” she was asked without so much a glance in her direction.
Wiping her mouth with the napkin laying in her lap, she asked the question that had been bothering her for days now with caution. “Ada, why is it that you do much for others what they don't do for you?” Silence echoed around the dining room, causing the young elven girl to retreat back in on herself, she knew she should have never asked an idiotic question to begin with. “I-I don’t mean anything bad by it Ada, I was just curious is all an-.”
Before she could continue on her rambling, her attempt at extinguishing the lingering silence was interrupted by that of her fathers calm soothing voice. “No it is fine Anna, no need to try and explain yourself.” He set down his utensils, resting his forearms on the table in front of him turning his gaze to that of his daughter.
“When I was your age I asked my father, your grandfather the same question once,” her father chuckled to himself, his obsidian colored hair slightly shaking intandem. “And in turn he asked me, why not give to those what they don’t have? Just because we are different from our distant land bound kin from all others on this land and in the skies does not make us mightier than them, it does not give us superiority over them. We help those who need help.”
It felt as if his eyes were piercing through her seeing that into her soul, “Would you rather spend the rest of your days helping others in need or live the rest of your days knowing you just stood by and did nothing?”
Before her younger self could respond, she jolted awake from the memory that had taken the form of a dream. Only to curl in on herself and weep, not in sadness but instead in shame. If her father could see her now he would be disappointed, not at all happy with how she handled yesterday's company. Wiping the tears off her cheeks, untangling from bed, she stood on shaky legs knowing that if she didn’t do what was right she wouldn’t be able to live with herself at all.
Snapping out of the thoughts that clouded her mind, she grabbed a bag and began darting around her living quarters packing only that of her essentials. At last she secured her cloak around her body, pulled her hood over her face and made sure her wings were hidden from view. She took one final look around that of the place she had called home for the past couple hundred years, turned around and stepped outside of her small cottage just as the sun was beginning to rise. Silently she started her trek to Buckland, hoping and praying that this journey wouldn’t lead her into that of a lion's den.
★ ✩ ★
elven translations:
ada ➝ father
anna ➝ gift
forlond ➝ avariel kingdom
mellon nin ➝ my friend
Bard: “You are as beautiful as these gems. Please take them.”
Elven King: *sweating* “Well, of course.” (Bard has no idea that in royal politics NOW he can’t not take them)
Or; Bard being an unwittingly political mastermind flattering elvenkings since the fall of smaug.
I wish I had the confidence of Thranduil bringing a travel throne with him to battle.
I'm bored so I made this atrocity.
This is so beautifully written 😍💕
Tolerate It | Thranduil
▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader
▹ Genre: Angst
▹ Words: ~2k
▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.
▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy.
The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left.
Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect.
Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention.
Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.
Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone.
You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize.
One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp.
Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable.
The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair.
Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance.
The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years.
Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found.
You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?
"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?" At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort. " I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."
"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"
At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.
" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."
Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"
You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.
"I could say the same about you, prince."
He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.
"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.
"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.
"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."
"You don't need--"
"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."
So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.
"I think I'm technically your stepmother."
"But you feel more like a friend."
You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.
"Then I am glad we are friends."
Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.
Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.
"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."
He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.
Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.
Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.
When would this torment end?
---
The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you.
Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.
The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care.
“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough.
A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?
“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.”
Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.
“It was a bit gauche.”
Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own.
“I thought it looked nice.”
His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash.
“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.
Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror.
“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser.
“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to martyr off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”
“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?”
“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.
“To ensure an alliance with your family.”
“That is it? For no reason other than that.”
Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.
“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”
You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--
You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit.
“I see.”
A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.
You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.
“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.”
Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding.
The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
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Oh yessss! I'm all for Lee Pace's return as the Elvenking🙌🧝🏻🍷💯😍✌🏼
We need Lee Pace back as Thranduil in Rings of Power. How do we, the fans, get this point across. Lee hasn't aged, seriously, just look at that man in Foundation. Between the hobbit trilogy, we probably got 60 minutes of Thranduil total, just a guess. Idk bout y'all but I wanted more. I WANT MORE THRANDUIL BY LEE PACE.... ok I'm done ranting here like a lunatic. (Sad enough that Elrond as well as others are all recast)... but LEE... he should just kill it all showing up... that's my dream. Thank you. I'm out...
Oh yessss! 🙌🏼🧝🏼♀️💜
Thranduil and his throne
If he looked at me the way he does in the 6th one...I'd die......end of story!
Agreed 💯👍
According to the lay known as “The Fall of Gil-Galad”, upon this elven-king’s death, he was “the last whose realm was fair and free, between the Mountains and the Sea”.
…say what now? Excuse me, dear Middle-earth minstrels, but you seem to have forgotten about THIS GUY:
King Thranduil Oropherion is the Sindarin counterpart of the “High King of the Noldor”, and therefore comparable to the renowned High King Gil-Galad, but is sadly not given the same amount of recognition in stories and songs.
Allow me the honor of “singing” the ways Thranduil is very similar to Gil-Galad:
(1) Both were born in the First Age, and as young elves witnessed the destruction of the cities they lived in: Thranduil in Doriath and Gil-Galad in the Havens of the Falas. They were exposed to war and bloodshed at an early age and experienced living as refugees.
(2) Both survived and possibly participated in the War of Wrath. (You know, that really terrible, bloody, decades-long war that literally broke the world--that war.) According to certain interpretations of the film “The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug”, Thranduil likely did fight in the War of Wrath, where he “faced the great serpents of the north”. Elven warriors of the First Age were incredibly fierce warriors out of necessity, and if Thranduil survived those great battles when he was about 150 years old, that makes him extra badass.
(3) Both inherited their kingships from their forefathers. Gil-Galad’s claim to the Noldor throne (like his canon parentage) is a little murky, but he is related to Fingolfin whose line was pretty much wiped out, so only Elrond or Galadriel could have challenged his claim (which they didn’t). Thranduil’s claim is far more direct as the son of the first King of the Woodland Realm and ruler of the Silvan people.
(4) Both were warrior kings. Because canon stories of Thranduil are very sparse, we don’t know for sure which wars he did or didn’t participate in during the Second Age. What DID he do those 2,000+ years while his father was establishing and ruling the realm? Honing his warrior skills seems to be a fair hypothesis. How else would he have developed the deadly skills he exhibited at the Battle of Five Armies? How else would he have kept the foul creatures of Dol Goldur at bay without a magic ring? It’s very possible he’s seen more time on the battlefield than official historical accounts say.
(5) Both fought at the Battle of Dagorlad, during the War of the Last Alliance. Gil-Galad fought hard and valiantly to the end at Mordor, slaying Sauron by his own spear. Because Oropher died at the first onslaught, it was likely that Thranduil had to exit the war early, either to bury his father and their slain soldiers, or because he himself was injured. There may have been enough time for him to rejoin the Alliance at the Siege of Barad-dûr, to avenge his father and salvage his family’s honor and pride. But Thranduil, whom people mistakenly dismiss as arrogant or proud, was a king who valued his people and the soldiers under his command. It would have been easy glory to join the Siege since by then the war had been all but won (and won by the blood of his people, might I add). Thranduil chose to stay with his kin and help them through the loss of their king and many loved ones, and to reassure them that they were in good hands with him as their new ruler.
It’s a big, sad shame that Tolkien was not able to write more stories about Thranduil, his family, and the Mirkwood elves. Based on the theories we, his fans, are able to formulate about him, it seems he may have been the most successful, even most benevolent, Elven ruler of them all. He will just have to get his glory and renown in the “songs” and “lays” of our headcanons and fanfics.
Looking for more Thranduil content?
Introduction to SotWK
My Headcanon Masterlist
My Fanfiction Masterlist
Thank you for your support and interest!
Yup.
(Gifs found on pinterest, pics by me)
I am seen.
One of my favorite quotes from OUAT 🔥🖤🤣
“Shall I get you a step stool so you can look me in my eyes when you threaten me?”
Thranduil, to Thorin Oakenshield
Yup.
My tastes have never changed
The utter perfection of this is unmatched 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Cosplayers are incredible 🔥