Fandom Imagines Part 2

Time After Time, Thranduil

The names of the dwarves and hobbits are made up, as is the storyline. Also, the reader is an elf.

The women in my life were all told to stay in their homes and do what they're supposed to do. That was how life was supposed to work, and all would be dandy. However, I never thought that would be my future. I knew I would be destined for more adventurous and daring activities in my lifetime. Although, I wasn't expecting to be the babysitter for a group of trouble-making dwarves and two hobbits on the journey of finding the hobbits' brother.

"Alden, Voron, stop picking on Gerren," I tell the red-haired twins with a motherly smirk as they bother the youngest hobbit with questions about his hobbit feet. In response to my stern, yet calm words, they quickly stop, smiles still on their faces before venturing off to mess with some other poor soul. The woods are supposed to be peaceful, but with those two, it's everything but serene.

Gerren mouths a 'thank you' to me as he sighs and takes another drag off his pipe. I nod at him just as I catch the oldest dwarf of the group, Poldo, lightly laughing to himself a few feet away from me on his spot on the dirt-covered ground. "What amuses you, brother?" I ask, smiling with a tilt of my head.

Poldo looks over at me, smirking. "You are the mother of this group," He points out, causing me to roll my eyes. Now it's my turn to chuckle.

"No, I am not," I defend. "I'm the youngest out of you all," I lie, subconsciously pushing my hair over my ears. I'm older than all of these dwarves' ages combined - it's what happens when you're an elf.

"And yet, you are the tallest," Poldo throws back almost instantly. Gasping at him in mock surprise, I can't help but laugh with him. After a while, he shakes his head with a smile on his lips. "Although, you really are the mother of the group, and there's nothing wrong with that," He further clarifies, giving me one last smile before lying back and closing his eyes.

Now smirking, I stand from my rock and clap my hands together, announcing it would be a good time to go to sleep so that we are prepared for tomorrow's journey. Like always, everyone listens, quickly laying down in their chosen spots and getting comfortable while Iston, the smartest dwarf of the group, stays out and keeps watch. It's always been this way ever since the loud group wandered into my village and I decided to join them so I could truly find out what I'm meant to do in life. The answer still hasn't come to me, but I have enjoyed their company, and I think I'd be right when saying they've enjoyed mine just as much.

While everyone quickly finds a way to fall asleep within seconds, I'm held back by the thoughts always wandering throughout my head at night. None of the group knows this, but I'm an elf and not a human or dwarf (or hobbit in Gerren's case) like them. I'm a respectable height as some would call it, and because of that, the group never cared to question me. I guess it never crossed their minds that I could be an elf, too.

Although, I've never given them any reason to suspect differently. When they found me, I was in a village full of humans, but that wasn't the place I was originally from. I was born in Mirkwood, and I lived there for the majority of my life. However, due to unfortunate circumstances, I had to leave, and since that very moment, I've decided to keep my mouth shut about it forever.

Do I feel bad that I lie about my past? Sometimes. Is it safer that I don't tell them? Possibly.

What I will never tell them is why I had to leave Mirkwood in the first place. When I said unfortunate circumstances, I meant I was to be Thranduil's bride, but his father banished me from being anywhere near his son and the kingdom. I wasn't royalty or of any position to be the future queen of Mirkwood (as I would have inevitably become by marrying Thranduil), and Thranduil's father wanted better for his son. I know he probably told Thranduil that a spider had gotten me while walking in the garden or something along the lines of an unexpected death; nevertheless, Thranduil probably suspects that I am dead, but thankfully, I am not.