Chapter notes:

Y/N takes a walk with the Elven king through the forest.

Wow, it's been years since I've written anything! I was a bit bored in lockdown and recently rewatched the Hobbit and LOTR films when I suddenly remembered about these fanfics I'd started a while back. After watching the films again recently I've fallen in love with Thranduil all over again and decided to give these stories another go. The next chapter is already started, so that should be up soon too. I know there are people wanting me to keep the other fanfic going so I'll get the next chapter of that up soon too:) I'm toying with the idea of writing something for Thorin too... let me know if anyone would be interested in reading that? Anyways, here it is, enjoy!


"Prove it."

He met your stare evenly with an unreadable expression, but offered no response. You worried you might have crossed a line and offended him. Were you supposed to have humoured him? Did this guy expect you to go along with his cosplaying? Time seemed to stand still as those azure eyes bore into yours, assessing the intent behind your challenge. God, he really was most beautiful man you'd ever seen. Suddenly hyper-aware of your body language, you looked shyly away to Bailey who sat tied to the bench end beside you, giving her ear a scratch. Wholeheartedly ignoring you, her attention was intently focused on the staff bringing hot food out to people, drool dripping from her mouth, her innocent doggy mind blissfully unaware of your confusing situation. Finally the stranger spoke, and a tingle rippled through you as his smooth voice filled your ears.

"You do not have elves in this land?". Although fake-Thranduil's voice was calm and slightly lilted, there was a new tension in the air; something had changed. The dynamic of your conversation had shifted, and as you met his gaze you saw a glint in his eyes. Of what you didn't know, but the intensity made your stomach twist. Not breaking eye-contact, you murmured "No". You stared at one another. The air hung heavy between you, tense and electrified with an invisible static energy. Unable to look away, you searched his eyes for answers and suddenly everything seemed to become like a dream, the world around you melting away. Only vaguely aware of your surroundings, your attention was captured entirely by the blonde-haired man sitting across from you, everything about him standing out in glorious HD while the cheerful bustle of the forest cafe faded out of focus. He didn't speak. A sinking feeling slowly began to take hold and unconsciously your hands gripped the coffee cup a fraction tighter, your heart beating faster in your chest. Realising you had forgotten to breath, you inhaled deeply before stating with forced composure: "elves aren't real".

Emotions flitted across his features, but were quickly masked almost as fast as they had appeared. His calm expression had broke, only for a second, but you had caught it. You saw genuine shock, disbelief and .. fear? He gazed back at you, his face now cold and muted, with guarded eyes that held a new secret understanding. A heavy stone settled in your stomach and you swallowed nervously. Nobody is that good an actor. Was this actually real? Was he for real? Your rational mind was in denial, but your gut was screaming yes. You felt faint with a slight buzzing in your ears, like after getting blood taken at the doctors. Okay. Either this was real, or this weirdo genuinely believed he was an elf. If it was the latter, you should definitely be making your exit right about now – though it was hard to feel in danger when the sun was shining and you were surrounded by people. Raking your eyes feverishly over his appearance once again, you debated on what to say next.

Suddenly, something knocked into your legs underneath the table making you gasp sharply in surprise, ripping you back to reality and giving you a good fright. Someone's friendly dog was sniffing about greedily in search of dropped food. An audible sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you huffed a laugh at your jumpiness as you leaned back, watching the dog under the table make their way over to Bailey who was straining to say hello, tail wagging. Your lips curled up at the wholesome sight. Chatter and birdsong filtered into your ears again, and you watched Bailey happily make friends with the cocker spaniel. Inhaling shakily, you took a sip of coffee to steady yourself and decided to indulge the conversation a bit more. Feeling those unnatural blue eyes boring into you, you forced yourself to look back across the table. "What's your name?" you asked, growing uncomfortable with the silence. Moments passed and you thought he might not answer, until finally -

"Thranduil." He answered with a slight incline of his head. Prepared for this answer, you did your best to smile at him, despite how inwardly freaked out you were. This must be the world's most dedicated cosplayer. "I'm Y/N." When he didn't reply, you glanced around for any undercover cameras - a part of you still convinced you were being punked. Your cheeks flushed as you became very aware of all the curious glances and stifled laughs directed at your table - undoubtedly because of your companion's unusual appearance. Bailey whined at your side, getting restless with sitting stationary now that her new friend had mosied away to continue their search for dropped food. Impulsively deciding you wanted to see where this interaction was going, you welcomed Bailey's insistent interruption and quickly stood up before untying her lead - much to the dog's delight. You looked back, your eyes immediately finding his as though pulled by some magnetic force. "Do you want to go for a walk?" you invited, biting your lip as your mind whirred at 100mph, scrambling to come up with some kind of plan. Immediately you scolded yourself inwardly - this guy could be anyone! But you couldn't help it. You felt some kind of pull towards him, and besides, it would be daylight for another couple of hours and there were plenty of people about taking advantage of the stretched summer evening. Surely a walk together couldn't hurt?

Deliberating over your offer, 'Thranduil' inclined his head once more, closing his eyes in gratitude briefly and offering a small smile. "Yes, perhaps a stroll in the forest could be helpful." Your stomach did backflips at the sight of his smile and you instinctually returned it, flipping your H/C hair over your shoulder. Grabbing your coffee cup you moved off from the table before pausing, waiting for him to join you.


After entering the forest, you walked beside each other at a leisurely pace for a few minutes, birdsong the only noise filling the silence between you. Okay, enough was enough. "Well." You stated, glancing sideways at him. After a heartbeat, you continued – "you never did prove you're an elf" before asking once more, "are you cosplaying?". He stopped abruptly and your arm flew out as Bailey dragged you onward. Pulling her back beside you, you turned to face him and swallowed at the close proximity. He stood still as a tree gazing down at you, a soft breeze sifting through flawless white-blonde hair. "I am not familiar with that term" he repeated, that deep voice reverberating through you. Fighting the shiver that threatened to expose the effect he had on you, you explained "cosplaying is when people dress up as fictional characters, from fantasy books or games or movies". Staring down at you with an unreadable expression, Thranduil slowly replied "I am not cosplaying." You huffed in frustration as a frown knit your brows together. This was going nowhere. Beginning to walk again, you glanced back over your shoulder to check he was coming. Standing observing you for a moment, he watched you with keen eyes before starting forward again, quickly catching up in a few graceful strides. Thranduil walked on beside you in silence, his otherworldly gaze fixed ahead.

Sighing, you decided to indulge this further. "Okay. If what you say is actually true.." you paused, glancing up at him. "You really are going to have to prove it. I'm still convinced this is a joke". "How do you suggest I prove I am an elf? Are my ears not proof enough?" he replied, annoyance plain in his smooth voice. "Well, you have to understand," you began, "elves don't exist here. Your ears could be fake, and unless you let me touch them I have no way of knowing their authenticity". Aware touching an elf's ears was taboo in Tolkien's world, you hurriedly added "But I know that's a really intimate gesture for elves. So don't worry, I don't expect that." before he could be insulted. "Indeed" came a dry reply, though when you stole a glance you saw the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

Cheeks burning, you brainstormed ways to prove he's an elf. Can't just reach up and touch his ears on the off hand he is an elf, that would be far too intimate. Maybe his hair? Glancing sideways, you consider it but quickly reject that idea; you don't want to overstep any boundaries. Frustration prickled and you frowned in concentration. "Can elves heal quickly?" Y/N asked suddenly, as an idea sparked up. "Like, if you were to cut your hand, would you heal instantly?" Thranduil looked sideways at you with furrowed brows, as though he were not even going to dignify that with a response. Oh. Right. Internally cringing, you curse yourself for the suggestion – of course you can't expect him to injure himself just to satisfy your curiosity. Together you strolled on, listening to the sounds of the forest.

Oh! "Speak some elvish to me!" you blurted, turning to him excitedly. He looked down at you in amusement, blinking slowly. As he stopped to face you fully you mirrored him, pulling Bailey to a halt and looking up expectantly, your heart in your mouth. A moment of silence. And then - lyrical words flowed effortlessly from him into your ears, and your eyes widened as you eagerly drank in the beautiful noise. When he stopped too soon, you pouted in disappointment. "Keep going!". This time a full smile graced his face as he gazed down at you. You were standing so close the tips of his long blonde hair tickled your face as the wind gently toyed with it. Scarcely daring to breath, you searched his eyes in anticipation. Those eyes seemed to hold so much yet disclose so little, and you found yourself wanting to be accepted in, to know what mysteries and wisdom they held instead of wondering from afar. A language too beautiful to be real filled the air again, smooth and graceful, reminding you of Italian – only far more lovely. When he stopped and his eyes dipped down to your mouth you realized you had been staring in amazement with parted lips and closed them quickly, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. "That was… beautiful". Thranduil stepped back with a somewhat smug smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Do you believe me now?" his deep voice challenged, fierce azure eyes staring confidently into your E/C ones. Smiling flirtatiously you looked away. "Hmmm" you mused deliberately, walking slowly forwards. "That was very impressive. But how do I know you didn't just make it up?" Glancing sideways you saw indignant disbelief painted on his features. "I'm kidding, I believe you" you laughed as you fell into pace beside one another. "Well, I believe you just spoke Elvish anyway. That still doesn't entirely prove you're an elf. I could say, 'voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir' but that doesn't mean I'm French – just that I know how to speak a little of the language". You smiled sideways at him to let him know you weren't trying to insult him and he glanced back with puzzled amusement. "What does that translate to in the common tongue?". You balked at his question. Laughing nervously, you shook your head looking ahead at the winding forest path. "Nevermind!". Before he had a chance to prod further, you swiftly asked "Alright, so you can speak elvish. How else can we prove you're really an elf? Is there anything elves can do that humans can't?".


Just over an hour had passed before you entered the car park, and you realized with a jolt that your feet had absentmindedly directed you back to the forest exit. The soft soil of the forest trail was replaced with hard gravel which crunched underfoot, and the change in texture made you pause as you thought what to do now. You had discussed displays of physical strength, immortality, appearance, language, and magic. Almost everything could be explained away by logical reasoning – he was a secret gymnast, blessed with beautiful genetics, a hardcore Tolkien fan who learnt Elvish until it could be spoken fluently. Magic could be slight of hand, the power of suggestion, maybe he'd slipped a drug into your coffee to make you hallucinate. Y/N didn't bother demanding he climb the tallest tree or pull on his hair to prove it wasn't a wig or anything else – knowing that even if he did all those things, your mind would still find an excuse not to believe him. Suddenly the realisation dawned – you did believe him. Deep in your gut, you knew you did. But still, you were in denial. Sighing, you turned to your new companion.

"Alright, Thranduil." He quirked an eyebrow in interest as you said his name for the first time, but looked on silently. "I want to believe you. And I must be crazy, because I think I do believe you. But … it's impossible, you're supposed to be fiction -a fairy story, nothing more!" Sighing, you ran a hand through your H/C hair. Birds chirped in the distance and you eyed the sky. Still warm with the hues of summer, but not as bright. Night was rolling in slowly. "I must be crazy" you muttered to yourself once more. Taking a breath, you steeled yourself for what you couldn't believe you were about to ask – "As you're lost, would you like to come back to my house and we can try to find a way to get you …. un-lost?".