Midnight Rain - Thranduil x Reader
summary: You are an elven ambassador from Rivendell living in Mirkwood. The realm is currently celebrating a victory in battle over the dwarves when Thranduil asks to have a private word with you. The two of you share history, but his scars scared him into letting you go. A decision he clearly regrets after seeing you dance with your fiancé.
pairing: Thranduil x F!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: angst
a/n: Another part of my Swift series, where I write multifandom one shots inspired by Taylor's songs <3 the next series after this will be a Florence + The Machine one. Hope you enjoy this story!
Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info - Taylor Swift Series
My girl was a montage
A slow motion, love potion
Jumping off things in the ocean
I broke her heart 'cause she was nice
In the dim light of sundown, he watched the woman dance. Her hair cascaded loosely around her shoulders, and her red lips curved into a bright smile revealing her teeth. Giggles escaped her, the skirts of her dress in her fists so she would not stumble and fall over them as she hopped around her dance partner in circles. Giggles escaped her as she twirled around her dance partner, clutching the skirts of her dress to avoid tripping over them. Her bare feet moved confidently over the forest floor, soles stained with moss and earth from earlier rain.
He was sitting in his chair, a crown of leaves and twigs sprouting from his head. He could feel the weight of it pressing down even more than usually did, although he was sure this was merely his imagination. His gaze hardened as he observed the man dancing with the woman, their arms entwined. No one besides him noticed but each time they drew close, the man whispered in her ear, eliciting blushes and giggles.
The glass in his hand shattered.
“Oh, Your Majesty!” exclaimed a servant girl next to him, immediately taking the glass out of his hand and cleaning his palm of shards and blood. The cloth she used soaked up the red liquid as the girl placed the shards into a basket nearby.
Barely glancing at his opened palm, he held it away from his body, allowing her to continue cleaning up the mess he made. Hissing, he pulled it away once she informed him he was clean again. There was still a stain on his palm, but the cuts did not appear deep. He would seek out the palace healer after the festivities ended.
The music stopped when he raised his other hand, all eyes falling onto him when he stood from his seat. His blue eyes were resting on the elven girl he had watched earlier, the air thick with anticipation from his people.
“Do not let the festivities stop. I shall have a private word with the Rivendell ambassador inside. Please, continue,” he said, his deep voice loud and collected. It radiated authority and control, all while he never took his gaze off of you.
You gave your fiancé a short nod and left him alone on the clearing that had turned into a dance floor, just as the musicians to your right resumed playing their instruments. Some of the spectators around watched you as you approached the Elven King, others joined your fiancé in dancing, and the air was once again filled with laughter.
Thranduil extended an arm for you to take, and you reluctantly wrapped your hand around his biceps, feeling the expensive fabric of his garment on your skin. His scent was clear and familiar; a mixture of musk and wood.
Neither of them said a word until they found themselves on a terrace, far away from the festivities and the music, which could only be heard if one concentrated very hard. You placed your hands on the railing, your eyes drifting off to the forest in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Thranduil looking at you, his gaze making you feel naked, seen, though never uncomfortably exposed.
“Why did you want to speak with me?” you asked him, knuckles white from your tight grip around the railing. You hoped he didn’t notice your nervousness. He hesitated as if he wasn’t quite sure himself.
“You have proven to be a valuable asset in keeping an alliance between Rivendell and the Woodland Realm,” he began, his voice lacking emotion, his words sounding practiced and memorized. “I suspect now that you have found a suitable match, you plan to stay?” The words only reluctantly left his lips, and you could feel him tense further.
You clenched your teeth as you stared out into the forest, the sky darkening as dusk slowly began to blend into nightfall. There was a thickness in the air, indicating the imminent arrival of rain.
“Sharion and I have not decided yet,” you said hesitantly, the name of your fiancé now feeling strange on your tongue. You cursed yourself for the momentary feeling of shame that spread through your chest. Yet you had nothing to be ashamed of; Thranduil had turned you down.
“I see,” replied the Elven King, and you saw him follow your gaze out of the corner of his eyes. He stood straight and tall next to you, silence resting between you. It was almost suffocating until you heard the roar of thunder above you.
You opened your mouth to say something just as he did the same, and it was the first time that evening your eyes met. You stopped yourself from speaking, gesturing for him to proceed instead. With flushed cheeks, you listened and averted your eyes again.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said softly, the pain in his voice barely audible. Your grip around the railing tightened just as the first raindrop fell onto it. “Please, look at me.”
There was something else in his voice now; he was pleading. When you turned to him you saw the glassiness of his blue eyes, the way his thick brows furrowed and his arched lips pursed as if in agony.
“I do not know what you want from me, Thranduil,” you whispered, his name on your lips a familiar feeling. You were one of the few who knew about his name, let alone addressed him with it so openly. “I gave you my heart. I wanted to become your wife.” Your eyes momentarily dropped to his lips before locking with his again, your hand gently rising to touch his cheek where you knew he had glamored it. “No matter the scars you bear.”
Thranduil closed his eyes, leaning gently into your touch. You saw his own hand rising, only to fall again as if he was scared to touch you. As if he feared that if he did, you would pull away.
When he opened his eyes, he inhaled deeply with the greed of someone who had stayed underwater for too long. Underneath your touch, his skin began to fade, replaced by the deep scars you had often seen him stare at in the mirror with disdain in his eyes.
“I need you,” he whispered, but you only dropped your hand and he let the scars disappear behind his glamor again, eyes marked by rejection.
“I cannot be with someone who hides himself behind thick curtains of shame, Thranduil.” Next to you, you heard the falling rain quicken in unison with your heartbeat. “Are you ready to draw the curtains back?”
He hesitated and looked away. Now it was you searching his gaze, but stubborn as he was he would not meet it. The silence that followed was answer enough, only disrupted when the heavy rain swallowed it and thunder roared again. You felt as if nature itself was urging him to open himself fully to you, though he ignored its pleas.
“I do not want to fight for a heart that would freely stay inside its cage when it could be free,” you continued, the words heavy. “A home should not be a battlefield.”
You saw him tense before you turned your back on him, leaving him standing with only the terrace’s roof to shield him from the rain. You began shivering, the feeling of your engagement ring cold against your finger while tears streamed down your cheeks. It was painful breaking one’s own heart, but sometimes it was a necessary pain to bear.
With a heavy heart, you entered the palace again while the rain swallowed him calling out your name.
'Cause she was sunshine
I was midnight rain
She wanted it comfortable
I wanted that pain
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