The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings Imagines

Bughaw -Thranduil

(Requested by someone on Tumblr: Hi! I love your writing! Can you write a Thranduil x reader where the reader was raised by dwarves (like Kili and Fili sister or something) and she meets Thranduil in the Company and idk where I’m going with this so do with that hat you will. Thank youuuu

Author’s Notes: Okay I also don’t know where this was going T_T I triiiieeeddd! But seriously though I think Thranduil will absolutely be caught off guard when someone’s just complimenting him like with all honesty and when you absolutely mean it awhdkuaehkjeh

Warnings: a completely I don’t know what this plot is I’m so sorry)

“(Y/N), cousin, I think it would be best if you close your mouth lest you swallow a fly,” Kili muttered, snickering when you shot him a glare.

You huffed and continued to look up at the caves in awe. And because you were taller than the rest of the company, you had a pretty good view of the stalactites and stalagmites littered around the caves. Though it was quite similar to the place you called home, surrounded by stone and deep under the mountains, it had a different aura to it. The air was cleaner here and the caves less deep than what you had been used to.

You had been taken in by Thorin when you were little. Orcs had raided and killed everyone in your village. Your parents did their best to hide you from danger and their efforts paid off but in exchange they lost their own life. When the orcs had gone, you left your hiding spot and saw the ruins of your old home.

It was there that Thorin and Dis (along with her sons Fili and Kili) found you, sobbing quietly in the middle of all that mess while desperately trying to wipe away the tears. You had nowhere to go and no one to run to. You thought you were going to be alone and die on your own but Thorin took you in his arms and brought you to their home.

Even though you were human, you were taught the ways of the dwarves. You learned how to craft things and learned to appreciate the beauty of gold and jewels and found comfort in being under mountains and rock.

But there was something you never learned—nay, refused to learn. And it was the grudge the dwarves had for elves.

Yes, the way the elf guarding you pushed you irritated you. And yes, the constant teasing and the way your family of dwarves were handled just because of a grudge angered you. But they were only doing their job and you could understand that you were all indeed trespassing. Your attempts to approach a group of elves three times might have been taken as a sign of aggression and it was their right to be on their guard.

There was also something else that made you different from the dwarves, aside from your refusal to hate elves who have done nothing to you and your physique which is that of a Man’s.

And that was your never-ending curiosity and inability to hide your fascination and awe about things that you consider beautiful. Some would argue that dwarves compliment jewels and are fascinated about gold too. But you could see beauty in everything, from the small rivers to the rock formations to the forests teeming with life. You could see beauty in everything and everyone.

You thought the caves were magnificent and how you wished you would be considered a friend by the elves just so you could roam around their caves (and by the amount of teasing Kili and Fili, whom you’ve considered your cousins, had been doing you were ready to disown them). But the moment you looked up and saw the chair made out of carven wood, with its elegant yet deadly design of antlers and branches that mimic the trees outside, your eyes widened even more.

And you thought that was the end of it.

But the elf sitting on that throne took your breath away.

No, it wasn’t just because of his lovely blue eyes nor his platinum blond locks nor his muscular build. It was how he held himself with authority, grace, and poise. His actions were elegant, like he was dancing, but they were also calculated and sharp. His voice was fitting for a King. His clothes immediately told anyone that he was of royalty. And the crown and rings! Oh, you wanted to ask who made them for they are clearly well thought of and made with care.

Because you were too busy admiring the Elvenking who had been trying to interrogate them, your heart jumped when his eyes found yours. He held your gaze and you found yourself unable to look away. You knew you were doing that face that said “I am completely astonished by what I am seeing” when you heard Fili reprimand you.

But you had already caught the attention of the King and he ordered the guards to have the dwarves taken to the dungeons without you. So even with the protests of the others and the anxiety growing in your heart, you stayed there and looked up at the King.

“You are of the race of Men,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you. “Yet they treat you like you are one of them. How curious…”

You didn’t know what to say. While you thought that telling your story to the King wouldn’t be so bad because you had always been proud to say that you were raised by dwarves, you also thought that this might cause more trouble for Thorin and the others. So you tilted your head and just looked at him (and that was easily done because you were still admiring his crown).

But Thranduil was impatient and he grew annoyed at your lack of response and your unfathomable expression. He began to descend the stairs and walked up to face you. As Thranduil drew closer, your gaze then moved from his crown to his eyes.

That should have troubled you for he was invading your personal space bubble. But you were too busy thinking what that gorgeous shade of blue in his eyes reminded you of.

He leaned forward, his face inches away from you.

“What were you and those dwarves doing in my realm? What made you use the paths my people made?” he hissed. “Answer me!”

You were still thinking. Your eyebrows met and Thranduil’s did too but out of irritation. He was about to raise his voice even more when your frown disappeared and your face brightened up.

You found the answer.

“Summer!” you blurted out.

Thranduil was flabbergasted at your outburst. He blinked and gaped, taking a step back, before asking, “What?”

“Summer,” you repeated, smiling up at him with a dazed look in your eyes. You begin to remember days spent during summer, sitting on picnic blankets and dipping your feet in rivers. “Yes, it is indeed summer.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Thranduil demanded. He glowered at you. He absolutely could not understand you, from the look of wonder on your face when you stared at his home (which Thranduil had to admit he felt quite proud of) to the pure delight you had right now.

“Your eyes,” you said. Thranduil noticed that you were now attentive and had the decency to tone down your excitement with a bashful smile. He could not look away from you. That shy smile seemed to have captured his attention and possibly something in his heart.

Thranduil cleared his throat. “What about my eyes?” he asked, his voice a bit softer, filled with curiosity and uncertainty.

“They are the same shade of the clear, blue sky in summer,” you answered. “Although they can look like the sky in winter too.”

The Elvenking turned his back to you, trying to compose himself. All of a sudden he realized he was blinking too much (and possibly even considering the idea of running over to the first mirror he sees later) and that his cheeks felt warmer. But he didn’t want to show that you had broken his character so he turned his head to look at you.

“And what good would this information do for me?” asked Thranduil.

“Oh, that depends on you and how you will perceive it,” you said. “I just made it a habit of mine to speak up when I see something or someone beautiful.”

You giggled and Thranduil growled when you saw his ears turn red.  

Bughaw

—(Tagalog; Philippines)

Meaning: Blue