The Hobbit & Lord of the Rings -oneshots II

Little one 6 - Thranduil

Warnings: sick!reader (headache and the flu)
Word count: 1628
Other: -
Requested: Idea by Vesta2020

You get sick, and your father is there to try and make you feel better.

Sunlight filtered through the small gaps in the closed curtains, painting patterns of light into the stony walls of the king's bedroom. One of the rays hit Thranduil straight in the face, and he squinted his eyes as he was forced to open them. He frowned as he rose from his bed, looking around the room. You weren't there, like you usually were, either giggling next to him in the bed after you had jumped on his side, or hiding behind the closed curtains, waiting for him to wake up so you could jump up and scare him. But the absolute silence he was met with worried him. You were usually up and about as the first rays of the sun had climbed across the horizon. He dressed quickly and excited his room before any of his advisers or council members could burst through the doors and demand answers on dozens of little details he had no patience in the morning.

When he entered your room, you were buried under the blankets. At first, he thought you were just playing and planning on scaring him, but when you weren't giggling like you usually were, worry rose in his chest. He stepped closer, sitting at the edge of your bed.
"Y/N?" He called, and you answered with a whine, shifting slightly under the blankets.
"What's wrong?" Your father asked, and you hesitated for a moment before you slipped out from under the covers. Your eyes were rimmed with red, tearstains streaking down your cheeks as you sniffed your nose.
"My dose is ruddig and by head hurts." You complained, voice small and feeble and his frown deepened. It was a common misconception that elves couldn't get sick. It was true for grown elves, but elflings were different.
"Oh, darling." He cooed, lifting the blankets higher around you as he saw the way you were shivering, your teeth chattering slightly.
"I'll send for a healer if they had some herbs that will make you feel better." Your face scrunched up and you tried to hide under the blankets as you shook your head violently.
"I'm dot takig any herbs, they taste horribLE-" You started couching violently as you tried to finish your sentence with a shout. You had tried to cross your arms over your chest to make a point, but they flew to your mouth as the cough took over. Thranduil's heart clenched as he saw you struggle for breath, as the couching fit seemed to refuse to let go.

When it finally did, you whined as your throat throbbed, shaking as a cold wave rushed over you. Thranduil stood up from the edge of the bed, and you grabbed his hand before he could move away.
"Dod't go, ada, please." You whispered, and he shook his head immediately, moving some of your hair behind your ears as it had fallen to your face.
"I'm not going anywhere, I'll just get you another blanket from the closet." He assured you quickly, and you slumped back to bed with a weak nod as you watched him cross the room. He pulled every single one out of the cabinet, along with a few extra pillows, knowing that it would be easier for you to sleep if your head was elevated with a pillow or two to ease the stuffiness of your nose.

As he returned, he wrapped a few of them around you, tears leaking out of your eyes as you buried yourself deeper into your blankets, Peaches held tightly against your chest.
"It hurts, ada." Your eyes were barely visible to him from the small opening you had left into the blanket as you looked up at him. You were completely cocooned into the fabric, and if it hadn't been for the fact that you were crying, Thranduil would have thought you looked adorable. You still did, but the fresh tears leaking out of your eyes broke his heart and he wiped them off with his thumb, only for them to be replaced with fresh ones.
"I know, my sweet, I'm sorry." He ran his hand in your hair, hoping to soothe you, propping up your pillows to make breathing easier for you. You snuggled deep into your bed as a coughing fit took over again. Peaches was tucked tight under your arm, your other stuffed animals sitting in a neat row at the edge of your bed. You were still shivering even if you were buried under a mound of blankets.

Thranduil ran a hand across the blankets over the spot he assumed your back was on. He wasn't sure if you could even feel his touch under so many layers, but he just wanted to make sure you knew that he was there. A few guards and advisors entered the room, first speaking with full volume but after receiving a harsh glare and a gesture in your direction, their voices dropped so they were barely audible. Thranduil dismissed them quickly, sending them in search for Legolas as he remained seated next to your cocooned form. All the coughing had worn you out, and you drifted off to sleep as Thranduil continued to watch over you, now humming gently.

- - -

When you woke, you felt worse, if it was possible. Your throat was so sore that you thought you couldn't talk, and the itch in your throat was worse. The headache that had been such an inkling in the morning had turned into a pain that seemed to be hammering the inside of your skull, and you hid under the blankets to keep the bright sunlight away from your eyes. It did little to help, but it was better than nothing. You started coughing, and every cough sent a flash of pain through your head.

When your father entered the room, he hurried back next to you, realizing you were awake again. He stepped out for a moment to get you some tea and medicine for when you woke, but it had been much sooner than he had thought. It had pained him to hear the coughs racking through your body even if you were asleep, knowing there was nothing he could. He slid his hand on the shivering lump under the covers, cooing gently.
"What's wrong?" You lifted your hands to your face, covering your eyes.
"It's too bright, ada, it hurts." You mumbled, rubbing your hands over your eyes. Thranduil stood immediately and went to pull the curtains over the windows. As you saw the light disappear from behind your closed eyes, you had the courage to slowly crack them open.
"Is that better?" His voice sounded from the other side of the room, and it coaxed you out from your hiding place. When there wasn't a stabbing pain, you hesitantly crawled out from under the covers and were greeted by the room that was plunged in darkness.
"Yes." You answered, but the pain erupting in your throat made you wince, and you raised a hand to rub it, hoping that it would ease the pain. It didn't and you looked at your father with pleading eyes, slightly squinted from the pain.

It was so hard for Thranduil to see you like this. He could almost feel your pain, and it hurt him to see you in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it.
"Is your throat hurting?" He asked, and had to hold in a laugh at the glare you gave him. You nodded, rubbing it with the heel of your hand again. When your father held out a spoon for you to take, and smiled as your nose crinkled as you shook your head.
"It will help with your throat, darling, it's just honey and cinnamon." You gave him a suspicious look.
"I promise, it's honey." He nodded towards the spoon, and you held the pinky of your free and to him.
"Promise?" Your voice was scratchy as you pleaded, and he hooked his pinky in yours.
"I promise. You should eat it, it won't help otherwise." You lifted the spoon to your lips and swallowed the golden liquid, your eyes lighting up at the sweetness. You licked it clean, and handed it back to your father, receiving a steaming cup of tea in return. Your nose pinched as the slightly stingy smell reached your nose, and you send a pleading look into your father's direction.
"It tastes better than it smells, it will help with the headache." After the spoonful of honey, you believed him easier and sipped the cup empty. The warmth was helping your throat, and the pain in your head slowly went away. Once you were finished, you were getting sleepy, and your father tucked you back to bed. As he waited for you to fall asleep, he laid on your bed.

Legolas peeked in the room, ready to give his father an earful about all of the matters he had dealt with today, but when he saw him lying in bed with you, he stilled at the door. You were sleeping cocooned against his stomach, safely tucked under his arm. The bed wasn't meant for a fully grown elf, so the king had to sleep at a weird angle, but it didn't seem to bother him one bit. Legolas couldn't help but smile at the sight and decided that he could chew his father out another day.

New little one!
I already have the beginnings of a seventh one, so don't worry, the series will continue when I get the motivation to write it further.