Lonely Moon

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Disclaimer: This story is a work of fanfiction for The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings, and is not endorsed by the originator(s) of the work. All official characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement, offense, or solicitation is intended. This story has been written for entertainment value only. No profit is being made from this writing.

ThranduilxReader (or OFC)

Author's Notes: A good track to listen when reading this is "A Night of Love" from the "Mists of Avalon" ost. Oddly enough "Skyfall", "This Time" by Y&T, and Entwine's "Closer" helped me along with writing this as well. I know, 80s/90s rock.... Love it or hate folks.

This PWP ignores Tolkien's ideals regarding Elves marriages continuing even after death, commitment, hooking up with a human, and sex in general. So, please do not get ticked off at me for writing a fic about Thranduil being lonely and giving in to the desire to seek comfort in a willing pair of arms.

LONELY MOON

by MoonofMorrigan

The moon was bright and full, closer to the world than you had seen it in many years. It's glow was so bright that it filled the darkened room with silvery light. Standing on the precipice overlooking the vast forest of Eryn Lasgalan you feel overwhelmed, and very alone. You had come to the King's halls as a lost traveler. Not unusual in this enchanted place, but you had heard rather disturbing reports from the dwarfs of the king's treatment of trespassers.

However, the king did not throw you or your small party in the dungeons, but being open and honest with your travels, the purpose of your journey, and that you had simply lost your way on his paths, you found him to not only be not what you were led to believe, but even pleasant to be around.

You were journeying to Rohan to see a violently ill friend. However, elves from King Thranduil's halls that traveled outside the forest sent word that your friend had died only the day after your rescue from aimlessly traveling the winding paths of the king's forest. You were not close to the friend, but it filled you with melancholy nonetheless. The king sympathized with you and your travel companions over your loss, and offered for your party to stay longer in order to recover from your friend's passing.

You had spent the good part of a fortnight in this vast realm, and had grown fond of it. More to the point you had grown very fond of the king himself. Or rather, extremely infatuated with him. He, however, you were sure held no regard for you, other than being a host to weary, grief-stricken travelers, and you did your best to hide your attraction from him and the others.

This moon, and the beauty of the land stretched out before you seemed to enter your actual soul, and fill you with a deep unrest. An unsettling longing that sent you deep in the throws of loneliness and desire for someone you were quite sure you could never have.

"I have not seen a moon such as this in over a decade," you hear a deep masculine voice say quietly behind you. You jump in surprise, and turn to face the voice's owner with trepidation.

Thranduil leans against the wall of the cavern, a warm silken cloak hanging over his shoulders and arms. The usual long robes are gone, with only a thigh length silver tunic, and black trousers being all that he is wearing besides the cloak. There isn't a crown upon his head you note. Instead his silvery golden hair falls about him like a waterfall across his shoulders and down his back. He looks quite like a very beautiful man who is readying himself to take his rest for the night, you muse.

"Yes," you look away and back up at the moon, "I was just thinking the same thing." Among other things.

"I rather thought you would be asleep at this hour", you hear him say, barely able to hear his soft footfalls as he crosses the room, and stands next to you.

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