Thranduil Imagines

Imagine: You, Thranduil's wife, walking in on Thranduil and Legolas fast asleep

You tiptoe into your bedroom, having a growing feeling that your husband, Thranduil and your infant son, Legolas are in there. You had become beyond worried when you received shrugs and the word "no" as a response from the maids and guards in which you asked- "Have you seen Thranduil or Legolas?"

You can't help but worry. Ever since you became a mother, worrying has become a daily routine-like brushing your teeth. You worry at night about what is to come tomorrow and you worry in the morning when you have to come face to face with the things you contemplated about so intently the night before, keeping you wide awake with a few tosses and turns here and there.

Once your whole body has passed through the wooden door, the sight before you warms and fills your heart, making it on the verge of bursting. You gush out in awe and hold a hand over your mouth. You begin to tear up a little and hold your other hand over your ecstatic heart. You see Thranduil sprawled throughout your velvet comforter, wearing his silver tunic, that is buttoned halfway, with Legolas's tiny, adorable figure curled up on top of Thranduil's muscular chest, his tiny hand clutching onto a piece of his tunic. You feel the sudden urge to squeeze and tickle Legolas's tiny feet but choose not to because you don't want to disturb his slumber. You lightly stroke Legolas's golden hair, careful not to wake him. You push away Thranduil's loose hairs from his face and tuck a few behind his ear. You carefully lean forward and place a soft kiss on each of their foreheads. You want to leave them be, but you just can't. Your heart and feet forbid it. You pull up a chair and sit beside them, smiling from ear to ear. Suddenly, you feel a gust of cold wind flow into the room, making Thranduil and Legolas shiver. You turn and notice that the large double doors to the veranda are slightly ajar. You rise from your seat and swiftly make your way to the glass doors, pulling and locking them closed. As you make your way back to your seat, you notice that Legolas and Thranduil are still shivering. You pass your seat and begin to button up Thranduil's agape tunic, concealing his muscular chest. Thranduil stirred slightly against your touch, but luckily, he did not wake. You then proceeded to pulling Legolas's tiny green tunic down to his toes, that managed to get rolled and bunched up from his absentminded movements within his peaceful slumber. Finally, you pull the thick velvet comforter over both of them, keeping them warm. You're finally able to bring yourself to leave them alone. Just before you leave them, you lean forward and whisper "I love you both, more than anything, more than life"

You turn and quietly tuck the chair you were sitting on away. As you open the door, you see a guard with his fist in the air, seconds away from knocking where your face is.

"M-My lady-" He begins, flustered "I came to retrieve Thranduil, for he has an important meeting to attend."

You sigh, not wanting to wake him up.

"Is there any chance I could attend for him?" You ask

"Is-Is there something wrong with the king?" He asks, trying to look through the tiny crack of the open door

You quickly shut it and speak the first plausible excuse that comes to mind. "He-He's not feeling very well, and I'm afraid that a meeting would only worsen his migraine" You falsely explain

"I see" He states, beginning to contemplate, creasing his brows in thought "I don't see why not" He finally says

"Thank you" You breathe, making your way to the room held specially and only for meetings

~°~

Two hours later:

You shuffle out of the meeting room, completely and utterly exhausted. You're baffled at how long those ellons sat and argued over how to further protect our borders. You tried to fill them in on your ideas but gave up after trying to jump into the conversation several times. At one point, the image of old and wise ellons gathered around a table transformed into an image of little elleths and ellons arguing over a toy-because, that's exactly what it was. They weren't acting civilized or mature at all. You start to feel bad for Thranduil, considering the fact that he has to sit through that each and every day. Sure, some days are easier than others, but still, just because the topic of discussion changes, that doesn't mean that the people you consult with do.