Chapter Text
It was a brisk autumn morning the first time you were sure the King had looked at you and actually saw you. You had been serving as the primary educator for his son Legolas for many many years and watched the princeling grow and mature into a kind but strong young adult. But it had been so long since Legolas had his last lesson with you. Since then, you had returned to maintaining the palace library.
It wasn’t often that the King visited your domain. So rare were his visits that his presence at your desk was downright unusual. He typically sent a servant or an advisor to fetch whatever it was he needed. As it was, his polite clearing of his throat to alert you to his presence startled you greatly, causing you to drop your precious book on the floor.
“My King! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t expecting any patrons this morning.” You gasped, placing a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm your racing heart. “It is, afterall, a truly beautiful day.”
The corner of his lips quirked in what you could swear was almost a smile of amusement as he arched a brow.
“Indeed it is. But I have more pressing matters to attend to.” He replied smoothly.
He was dressed simply in a velvet silver tunic and a burgundy red robe draped over his shoulders. The King had forgone his majestic wooden crown of leaves and berries. Instead, a simple silver circlet adorned his head, glittering prettily against the white golden locks of his hair. The look suited him very well.
You shook your head slightly to rid yourself of such thoughts. Hopes had never been so unreachable...not to mention you were staring. You quickly averted your eyes to the oaken desk, realizing it had been several moments of silence.
“Can I help you find something, my lord?” You asked finally, unable to tolerate the silence you deemed awkward.
“Yes. I require the original scrolls detailing the trade agreement constructed between Mirkwood and Lake Town.” He answered after another awkward beat, drawn from his indiscernible appraisal of your person.
“Of course! I will be only a moment.” You answered as you leapt from your seat and retreated to one of the corners of the library.
You could have sworn that he was just as flustered by the exchange as you were...but with the King it was always impossible to determine his emotions. His steely gaze and unflappable mask were always firmly in place.
You let your fingers trace lightly over the titles of the books on the shelf as you searched for the desired scroll. With a quiet and triumphant release of breath, you pulled the aged book from its home and spun on your heel to return quickly to your waiting lord.
You did not expect a wall to appear suddenly in front of you and you ran straight into it,nearly toppling backwards from the collision. Warm hands grasped your arms firmly and steadied you before you could fall. The wall looked suspiciously like the same tunic and robe the King was wearing merely moments ago. And instantly you felt heat flood your cheeks.
“I would apologize but the blame is entirely yours.” He said lowly.
“I am so sorry! I wasn’t expecting you to be standing directly behind me.” You murmured hurriedly, finally meeting his eyes.
His eyes twinkled briefly with humor before his mask returned to his face. He again cleared his throat and took a step back, removing his hands from your arms. You immediately missed the warmth.
“I merely wanted to see where it was located so I may retrieve it myself in the future.” He replied. “And you may call me Thranduil when in private, Y/N. I believe we have known each other long enough.”
“Well, here you go lord.” You say, handing him the book.
“Thranduil.” He repeats as he takes it.
“Thranduil.”
You watch breathless as he sweeps gracefully out of the library. What just happened?
-----
In the following four months, Thranduil visited the library another six times. It was the first time ever in your life you could recall him making more than one appearance per century. He occasionally asked for your assistance locating a book or file, but many times he would merely nod to you in acknowledgement before finding a seat at a nearby table to read. Often, you felt the weight of someone’s eyes on you and you would look up, only to find the King engrossed in the pages in front of him. You choked it up to wishful thinking. But of course, why would an elf of such stature and beauty deign to desire someone the likes of you. He wouldn’t even talk to you about matters other than business. And those eyes never seemed to hold anything other than coldness and distance in their depths. You were wasting your time and your breath. Thranduil could never love someone like you.
Again you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You were definitely being watched. You slowly looked up through your lashes, but again his eyes were on his papers. A sigh of disappointment escaped your lips as you returned to your work.
“What troubles you, Y/N?” Came the hushed whisper of your co-worker and friend Istuion.
“Nothing of importance.” You whispered back as you turned to face him.
Istuion was dark haired and broad of chest for an elf. You often told him he would have done well as a member of the guard, but Istuion was too sweet natured and preferred the company of books to swords. He worked as a scribe instead. He was very shy and subtle, but in your heart you knew he pined for you but was too meek to ask outright.
“If it troubles you then it will always be important to me.” He said, nudging your elbow lightly with his own.
Again you knew you were being watched. But it mattered not. You resolved to ignore your inappropriate feelings for the callous King and pursue an option that could very well develop into something meaningful. You ignored the watchful gaze of Thranduil and turned fully to Istuion, giving him a warm smile.
“I know mellon nin. But it is truly nothing. Would you care to join me for lunch?”
Istuion returned your smile with a wider one of his own before offering his arm to escort you. Without so much as a backwards glance, you accepted his arm and left the library. And when you later returned, Thranduil was nowhere in sight. You had no idea of the consequences of this mistake.
-----
Early the following week, long before the sun had risen and the birds awoken, you tiredly set about your duties of opening and organizing the library. It was still dark and you didn’t expect anyone to enter for a few more hours at least. To ease the monotony and the silence, you started to sing softly your favorite tune as you gathered returned books to be replaced on the shelves.
You never heard him slip in quietly through the cracked door.
With the tenderness a mother shows her children, you guided the tomes to their rightful spots in a darkened hallway. You weren’t expecting the tingling sensation in your spine, alerting you to another’s presence.
“I know you’re there. You don’t need to skulk about.” You said knowingly without turning to acknowledge him.
“I am a King. Kings do not skulk.” Came Thranduil’s velvety tenor from behind you.
“Call it what you will.” You replied as you shelved the last remaining books. “No positive intentions are ever gleaned from hiding in the shadows.”
He hadn’t been back since you took your lunch with Istuion. You finally turned to him. He leaned casually against the solid wood of the wall across, dressed fully in his royal attire. But it was his eyes that captured your attention. No one would ever accuse Thranduil of being a warm and inviting elf. However, his eyes on this particular morning held a sharp glint like the threatening edge of a steel blade. The anger you found startled you and you reflexively took a step back.
“Indeed, they are not.” He allowed, pushing himself off the wall.
“What can I help you with today, hir nin?” You ask respectfully.
“I have come to inform you that Istuion Mornefindonion has been called away on important business. I have found you a replacement scribe to take his place. She will be arriving later this afternoon.”
No appropriate words found their way out of your mouth. You stood there gaping at him like a fish in disbelief and anger.
“What?” You finally choked out. “Are you kidding me?”
Thranduil merely raised a brow and crossed his arms, inviting you to continue.
“Istuion is the best scribe here! Where did you send him?”
“I have elected him to deliver important correspondence to Imaldris.” He answered smoothly.
“Why would you do that?!” You raved as you started to pace angrily.
“That is none of your concern.” Thranduil bit out angrily.
“Have you lost your mind?!”
“Enough!” He finally shouted, startling you into a dead stop. “He will return when our business has concluded. Do you have an interest in him?”
You were caught off guard by his sudden interrogation.
“That is none of your concern.” You reply snidely.
Thranduil’s lips curl into an ugly sneer at your blatant mockery. “No matter. I forbid it.”
“Excuse me?” You exclaim.
“I forbid it. Do you dare question your King?” He asked, advancing on you like injured prey.
“Yes! I don’t understand! We’ve done nothing wrong.”
Without warning, he had you pinned against the bookshelf behind you. A surprised and slightly pained gasp escaped your lips as the shelves dug into your back. His hips pressed against yours, the weight holding you against the wall as his arms were braced on either side of your head caging you in. Thranduil was leaned in close, his nose almost touching your own and his eyes flashed with rage. And suddenly his lips were on yours. They were softer than you imagined, but they pushed hard against your own demanding entrance. And you granted it.
Thranduil brought his hands down and tangled them into your hair to pull you close before gliding one down to the back of your neck. He held you firmly in place as he plundered your mouth hungrily. Though you know had he not been supporting you, your knees would have given out. Finally your senses returned to you and you began to kiss him back with just as much passion. Your hands found purchase on his hard chest and you caressed the rippling muscles underneath the fabric. You couldn’t bite back the pleasured moan that escaped your lips as he ground his arousal against you.
And then just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Thranduil pulled away and air returned to your lungs. With a gentleness you didn’t know he possessed, he tucked a wild strand of hair behind your pointed ear and cupped your face.
“Do you understand now?” He asked you quietly, eyes boring into yours.
Words still failed you so nodded slowly. He let his thumb trail softly over the swollen flesh of your lips.
“Y/N, will you please dine with me tonight?”
“I will on one condition.” You breathe.
His eyes crinkle with obvious tension, but he nods none the less.
“When Istuion returns, let him return to the library. His heart was not made for such adventures.”
You lift your hands and tug lightly on the waterfall of silver blonde hair that cascades over his shoulders. You’ve always wanted to do that...and it was just as silky as you had always imagined.
“Agreed. But be advised: I do not share, meleth nin.” He warned before pulling you down for a sweeter kiss. “Meet me in my chambers at 6.”
He gave you a slight bow before leaving you alone in the darkened hall smiling like an idiot. There was no way you were going to get any more work done today. You straightened your clothes and hair before following him out of the library. Who said you had to wait for dinner?