Hack It Off -Thranduil

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(This is inspired by how I cut off my hair last week. My hair was quite long before, the longest strands reached my waist. But because winter is coming and I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME GET IN THE SHOWER EVERY SINGLE DAY LIKE I DID IN THE SUMMER BECAUSE IT'S COLD I decided to cut off my hair. It will be quicker for me to finish my baths and quicker to comb through and less hair everywhere wiieeeee

Disclaimer: I do not know why there are some oneshots where braids are considered part of courting someone for elves and dwarves. I really don't know where this came from but I like the idea of braiding each other's hair as a symbol of affection for one another so I went with it.

I hope everyone's well!)



"(Y/N)?" His voice filled the empty bedroom that he knew belonged to you. "(Y/N)? Where are you?"

Thranduil waited for a few seconds and when no one answered, he turned to the door. Maybe you were with Legolas or with Tauriel. You made friends with those two ever since you came to this world and ended up in Mirkwood. They were the ones who rescued you in the forest, after all.

But just as he was about to close the door, he heard someone exclaim something in a language he didn't know and something falling down on the floor. Thranduil hurried inside your room again and went to the bathroom where the noise seemed to come from.

He knocked thrice. "(Y/N)? Are you alright?"

The door opened and Thranduil was greeted by your lovely face pulled into an annoyed expression. He was about to ask something when he noticed that your hair was tied into four sections. To his horror, one of the sections was shorter than the others, almost above your shoulders. Thranduil looked down and saw long strands of hair on the floor. In your hand was a hunting knife.

"Goodness gracious, what are you doing?" Thranduil demanded, taking the hunting knife from you and throwing it far from them. He reached a hand towards you and lightly touched the ends of your poorly cut hair. "Why are you trying to cut your hair? Why are you even doing it?"

"Because," you said, walking past him to grab the hunting knife, "I am sick and tired of this long hair. I've been here for a year now and clearly no one is willing to cut my hair so I did it myself."

"But why?"

"King Thranduil, I am not an elf so my hair isn't beautiful as yours. My hair gets tangled when I take a bath and I have a hard time brushing through the tangles. I have snapped a handle of one of my brushes. Also, if I have short hair, it would be much easier to deal with."

"But your hair!"

"It will grow," you said. "Trust me, it will grow. Even I have second thoughts. I regret cutting off this much hair but I don't want to keep on complaining about this."

You pushed him gently out of the bathroom and closed the door before he could stop you. Thranduil could do nothing but sit down on a chair and wait for you to get out.

He liked your hair, liked how it framed your face, liked how messy it could get whenever he knocked on your door in the morning and you'd answer, liked how you put it up in a bun or braided it, liked how he could ask if he could braid your hair and secretly be happy when you accepted because braiding someone's hair meant something but you didn't know that and he was still scared to tell you he liked you.

He thought he wouldn't be able to do that and Thranduil was sulking.

But a few minutes later you came out of the bathroom with hair just above your shoulders, still framing your face perfectly. You had even cut some hair that covered most of your forehead (he didn't know they were called bangs/fringe and he didn't know why you decided to have them).

You looked beautiful even with this new haircut.

Sure it was uneven and to you it looked like a mess, but it added to your charm and Thranduil found himself unable to look away from you. When you noticed how he gaped at you, you shyly smiled and said, "Does it look good?"

"Yes, it does." He was so surprised at how he said it without hesitation and at how he said it with a voice that was void of any hint of lie.

You averted your gaze, a smile still on your lips, as you pushed some of your hair behind your ear. "I can still put it in a ponytail or in a bun," you said.

"Th-That is... splendid," Thranduil muttered. Why was he being stupid right now?

"You could still braid it, right?" you said and your smile grew when Thranduil met your eyes with a blush on his cheeks. "Is it okay if you try and braid my hair now?"

Thranduil cleared his throat as he stood up and made you sit down on the chair he previously sat on. "That was why I came in the first place. I knew your hair would be difficult to tame. Now you've given me more problems. How am I supposed to make the usual braids with this short hair?"

You laughed. "Challenge yourself!"

You chuckled at the return of his snobby attitude and enjoyed how his hands ran through your hair. Despite his words, his touch was gentle and you noticed that he was brushing your hair longer than he usually did. You let him scold you until he was done but not once did you feel offended or sad. In fact, you were happy.

You liked how he asked if he could braid your hair and you liked how gentle he was and how intricate his braids were and how the others would compliment you whenever you wore them the whole day.

You liked it because you knew.

You knew he thought you didn't know. But you knew what braiding meant.

They meant something more than trying to tame your hair.

They meant something more.

They were unspoken words of someone.

They were unspoken words from the heart.

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