The Little Moments That Bring Us Joy (Thranduil X Reader #2)
(Author’s Notes: I know I said I will write more for other characters but I missed my baby Thranduil. Also I have other ideas that fit the other characters more and I will surely write for them soon!
I thought it would be nice to incorporate some of the little things I find joy in. Sometimes we get so overwhelmed by the bad stuff that’s happening in the world, we forget to appreciate the little moments that make us smile. I hope this reminds you of them.)
Previous: The Little Moments That Bring Us Joy (Legolas X Reader #2)
“What makes you happy?”
“When I forget the silly thoughts that have been running through my head because I am too focused on my work, on my painting, and I forget that I’ve been handling paint. When I finish and I see myself, my hands, and my clothes smeared with bright colors, and I see the work I have done. That makes me happy.”
“My lady, is there anything that I can do for you?”
You sighed and waved off your hand maiden. “I am fine. I just need some rest,” you said, massaging your temple.
She looked at you with knitted eyebrows, worried for her Queen. “My lady, I can come back and bring you some tea, if you’d like,” she offered.
But you shook your head. You were about to snap at her but thought better of it. She was only worried and was doing her job of taking care of you. So you offered her a tired smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I am fine, truly I am,” you said. “You may go now.”
With one last bow, and a still very concerned look on her face, she left your room and left you on your own. When you were alone, you went to a separate part of the room that was specifically closed off for you. It was your own space where you could sit and bring to life the world you see in your mind. You did this by sketching them with graphite or charcoal pencils or by painting them or by writing stories in your leather-bound journals.
You looked at the things on your table and wondered what to do to take your mind off of things. Your hand skimmed over the pencils and the quills before picking up a brush. You took a few of them and then your paints and your canvas and took your place by the balcony.
Clearly you could remember the view of the Lonely Mountain from above the trees when you once climbed up. After a few minutes of staring absentmindedly at your canvas, you started to get to work. After sketching lightly, you laid out the colors you were going to use and mixed some to get the shades you wanted.
Hours passed and the sun began to set but you were still focused on your work. You had tied your hair up in a knot with an extra paintbrush to keep your hair out of the way but strands have managed to escape. It caused little inconvenience but you had to constantly brush them away from your face and because they tickled you often, you had to scratch your cheeks or your forehead.
You were completely unaware of the fact that you had paint on your hands.
It was there in your little space that Thranduil found you after a long day of attending to his duties. As he placed his crown on the table, he spotted that the door to your space was ajar. Thranduil quietly opened it and a smile found its way on his lips when he saw you painting.
He was quite worried for it had been quite a long time since you had time to do things you loved. Not that serving the people of Mirkwood was a duty you disliked, but sometimes it stressed you out. To be a King or Queen does not mean you only wear a crown and sit on a throne. You have to think of how to keep your people safe and happy. Attending to these made you sacrifice the time you would have spent creating art.
Thranduil leaned against the door frame with a fond look on his face that he only reserved for you and waited until you noticed. He knew it would take some time for you to know that he was there but Thranduil didn’t complain—he loved it when you paint and in his opinion every work you make made the world more colorful.
A few moments later you leaned back and placed your paintbrush down. You relaxed, releasing the tension on your shoulders that you didn’t know you had whilst you were painting. It didn’t take you long to notice that you had company and you smiled without turning. You heard footsteps draw nearer.
“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, looking at your canvas and thinking of the things you still have to add.
“Not long enough to know what good deed I must have done to have you,” he said and you rolled your eyes at his words. Thranduil took note of your hands and your dress and your cheeks. “You have created a masterpiece once again. Though I must say there was no need to make any changes.”
Thinking that Thranduil knew of your intentions to paint again tomorrow to correct some things you thought needed to be changed, you shook your head and said, “I still have to paint the trees and I must use the right colors otherwise it will not look as magical as I saw it. I must continue tomorrow.”
Thranduil chuckled. “I was not talking about your painting, my love.”
You turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “Then what ever do you mean?”
“Have you seen yourself? You have paint all over your hands, on your clothes, and on your face. You even have paint on your hair and I still wonder how you never notice these.” Thranduil reached out a hand to caress your cheek. “You are already beautiful, a sight to behold, filled with life and color and so much love. You yourself are a masterpiece and yet here you are smeared with yellows and reds and blues and once again you capture my heart. Although it is already yours.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks and you tried to hide your blush by averting your gaze but Thranduil placed a kiss on your lips before you could try.
“I’d smear you with paint but I won’t because I do not have the perfect shade that would suit you,” you grumbled.
“And what color would that be?”
“The color of moonlight on the nights we used to walk under the moon when everyone else had gone to sleep and we were left alone to whisper to each other our love.”
This little moment did not come often but whenever it did, it made you happy and it made you look forward for the next ones. You wished you could have more time to draw and paint and write but the duties you had as a Queen pulled you away. And Thranduil had to prepare for wars to come for the shadow was creeping and waiting for the right time to strike. But the image of your paint-stained hands was an image you both loved and yearned to see again. In the silence of the night you would continue to wonder what colors you saw in each other and it made the days and years to come bearable.
It made you look forward to something.
It made life worth living.