#cefrey stormwind
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Naud Bui Amarth
Note: hi hi hi, welcome to another part in this lovely adventure with Cefrey and Aragorn. I was planning on adding a whole other scene to this but it would have made it very long and kinda unnecessary, so here we are! I hope you enjoy and please feel free to chat or send in asks!
Also! A little while ago I commissioned another piece of Cefrey, go check it out!!
Reblogs, likes, comments, etc are always welcome, but please remember reblogs >>> likes
Other Sites: Ao3, Quotev
Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader
Warnings: none for this chapter
Rating: T
Words: 3748
Part Six (Masterlist)
The morning after Cefrey and Strider’s conversation was quite eventful. Elrond had summoned many people from all across Middle Earth to discuss the fate of the Ring, and, much to the mage’s surprise, she had been invited as well. Gandalf assured her that it should not have come as such a shock since she was there, protecting the Ring from falling into the hands of evil. And while Cefrey understood his train of thought, she still was not sure what to think of it. She was simply a human, yes she was a human with magical abilities, but she rarely spoke to others and… The mage sighed. Her mind was just trying to get her out of going to the meeting, a meeting which she had every right of attending.
Gathering herself, Cefrey rose out of bed and donned another dress that was gifted to her by the elves. This one was a two piece with an off-white chemise and a forest green cover, it had a corset like top and flowed down the sides and back of the chemise. Fixing her hair by pinning it on the sides with two beautiful elven clips, the mage took in a deep breath. This was a meeting to decide the fate of Middle Earth. Cefrey was not used to such grand undertakings, preferring solitude and the embrace of nature compared to civilization. But this was different, she decided, this was important beyond her regular comforts.
She finally moved to leave her room, glancing at herself in the mirror one last time before setting off to join the Council of Elrond.
The room where the council was to take place had many chairs surrounding a white pedestal in the center, most likely where the ring would be placed, as well as a larger chair at one end where Cefrey noticed Lord Elrond resided.
She walked up to him as she seemed to be the first one there. “Good morning, Lord Elrond.”
The elf’s countenance shifted from one of deep contemplation to one of soft care at the sight of the mage. “Good morning, dear Cefrey. I see that you are quite early to this meeting.”
Cefrey laughed. “Yes, well it is nicer to be early rather than late, don’t you think?”
Before Elrond could respond, more people funneled into the room, taking their respective seats. The mage bowed her head at the elf, leaving to take her seat as well. Much to her joy, Frodo had decided to sit between her and Gandalf. She smiled down at the quite anxious looking halfling, resting a hand on his shoulder to try and ease his nerves. He looked up at her, grateful for her support.
Once everyone had been seated–Cefrey caught the eye of Strider as he sat across from her–Elrond stood and began the meeting, “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom.” He glanced over at Frodo, nodding his head, “Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.”
The young hobbit hesitated a moment, gazing up at Cefrey and Gandalf who both gave him a firm movement of their heads, encouraging him to do as Elrond said. He stood and walked over to the plinth, carefully placing the Ring down on it before turning and going back to his seat.
Cefrey gave him a quiet look of consolation as he sat back down beside her. A tight feeling wound its way around her heart as her gaze moved away from the hobbit and towards the tiny piece of metal before her. It… it seemed as if it was trying to speak to her, attempting to twist her morals and her thoughts into more sinister and evil things. Furrowing her brows and inhaling a sharp breath of air, the mage pushed those thoughts away. Those thoughts of power and greed, of using her magic to make all in the land bend to her will. She was stronger than that, she would not let him win.
Thankfully her thoughts were interrupted as the man with dirty blond hair that Cefrey saw the other night stood and walked closer to the Ring, “In a dream,” He paused. “I saw the Eastern sky grow dark, in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, your doom is near at hand,” The man took another step closer to the Ring, Cefrey’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Isildur's bane is found.” Cefrey glanced over at Elrond, then at Gandalf as the man neared the Ring, his hand reaching out, “Isildur's Bane…”
“Boromir!” Elrond jumped to his feet, his voice filled with rage and fear at what the man might do.
Cefrey’s hands gripped tightly at her dress. The fear in the elf lord’s voice and the desperation in Boromir’s, scared her. This evil was stronger than she could ever have imagined. And she knew at that moment that this evil ring must be destroyed, lest it destroy them all. Before anyone could do anything–or perhaps before Boromir could continue his cursed train of thought–Gandalf stood quickly, the air around them growing dark and cold as he spoke.
“Ash nazg durbatuluk,” His deepened voice caused all around him to wince in pain, the man staggering back to his seat. “Ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.”
Sighing in relief once Gandalf finished and the light returned to the room, Cefrey looks at Gandalf, her brows furrowed, emotions running haywire. Lord Elrond then spoke the very words that were running through her mind, “Never before has anyone uttered words of that tongue here in Imladris.”
The talk continued as Gandalf warned the entire council of the Ring’s evil. Cefrey understood that none could wield it except for Sauron, but decided to not say anything… yet. Boromir disagreed. He believed it to be a gift, a tool to use to save Middle Earth, to protect Gondor from harm.
Cefrey had half a mind to stand up herself and tell Boromir how idiotic he was being, she instead tried a softer approach as she knew men like him, men that would not care to listen to others when they are so set in their ways. She sat up straighter then, her eyes locking with Strider’s once more as some unspoken words passed between them.
“None here can wield the Ring, my lord, not you, not I, none but Sauron.” Her voice held a conviction she had never experienced before, and yet it felt right to say such things to this man.
Boromir narrowed his eyes at her, unsure of what to fully make of this wandering mage, but still displeased at her outright argument towards him. “You are but a maiden, unaware of the hardships of life around you, why should I believe what you say?”
A certain ranger spoke up rather quickly to Cefrey’s defense and she could hear the annoyance in his tone, “Cefrey is right, Boromir, and I believe you know what she says to be true as well. You cannot wield it. None of us can.” Strider’s voice slowly lost its anger as the knight of Gondor turned from the mage to face him, a deep scowl on his face. “The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.”
Boromir scoffed at Strider’s remark, his glare intensifying. “And what would a ranger know of this matter?” His words reflecting what he had said to Cefrey just moments before.
The mage raised a brow at that. Yes, Strider was a ranger, but he was invited to the council just as Boromir was. Once again, Cefrey wanted to speak up but was interrupted as an elf – Legolas from the Woodland realm if she recalled correctly – stood abruptly.
“This is no mere ranger.” That was interesting, Cefrey thought. “He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.”
Cefrey’s eyes widened. Isildur’s heir? Heir to Gondor? That was who she had been traveling with, who she had grown close to, trusted with her life? Her green eyes landed on his gray ones, confusion and shock laced in them. It took him a minute to return her gaze, after he told Legolas to sit and Boromir’s disdain for the ranger only grew. His eyebrows were furrowed, a look of… guilt, or perhaps regret on his face. It was not Cefrey’s business to know exactly who he was, and she understood that, but then why did it hurt her so? She had not divulged all of her past to him and there was no reason for him to do so either. And yet she still felt saddened by the fact that she only found out his true name from someone else, at a time where neither could speak to each other about it.
Changing her expression to one where she hoped to convey that they would talk about it later, Cefrey's attention was then quickly switched over to the dwarf as he stood and smashed his axe onto the ring, only for his weapon to break rather than the Ring itself. Lord Elrond told Gimli then that there was only one way to destroy the Ring; by bringing it back to the very place it was forged. Mount Doom.
Boromir interrupted after that, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the great eye is ever watchful. Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this." He shook his head. "It is folly."
Soon practically everyone stood from their seats and began arguing. Cefrey’s eyes landed on Aragorn again, a thousand words passing between them as they listened to the commotion. The mage was surprised as even Gandalf joined the fray, her green eyes widening only to fall onto the quiet hobbit beside her, his voice barely being heard.
"I will take it."
Frodo glanced at the sorceress, his countenance filled with doubt. She gave him a sad yet reassuring look before squeezing his hand and nodding. It wasn't that Cefrey wanted the halfling to go on such a perilous quest, but she also knew that anyone else–including herself–would be too easily corrupted by the Ring's power.
Emboldened by Cefrey’s encouragement Frodo stood taller, his words rising over the din of voices around them. She noticed Gandalf’s resigned look then, as he heard the hobbit too.
“I will take it.” He took a step forward, hands clenched in a tight fist by his side. “I will take the Ring to Mordor.” The entirety of the hall stopped and stared at Frodo, looks of fear, suspicion, confusion, but mostly awe, all focused on the young halfling and his strong choice of words. Cefrey noticed his eyes go over each and every person who stood, staring at him, making his previous courage dwindle a bit before he spoke again, “Though, I do not know the way.”
A soft smile spread across the mage’s face as she stood as well, stepping forward until she was in front of the hobbit. Gandalf came up beside her, his eyes still conveying a deep sorrow, yet he did not convey it outwardly. The grey wizard spoke first, “I will help you bear this burden Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.”
On any normal day, under any normal circumstances, the mage would much rather have simply gone back into nature, enjoying her simple life. But these were not normal times, they were dark times, trying times, and she knew that she had to help anywhere she could. She already swore to protect this young hobbit and she would not back down now. Perhaps it was because she had grown to feel rather protective of Frodo, or perhaps there was something else drawing her to do so, either way, she knew she had to. Cefrey felt, in the deepest parts of her being, that this was what she must do, in spite of the dangers, of the hardships they will all face, the stark difference from her previous life to this, she will help him.
Kneeling down and taking his small hand in hers, Cefrey held Frodo’s gaze, a resolute look on her countenance. “I, too, will aid you on this quest, young Frodo, my magic is yours to wield.”
As soon as she began to speak, she heard a rustle behind her as Strider… as Aragorn stood as well, causing the sorceress to rise from her kneeling position and move to stand behind the halfling. Seemingly without even a conscious effort, Cefrey’s eyes landed on the ranger’s, and while his gaze was fixed on Frodo, for a brief moment it moved to her, an emotion behind his grey eyes that she could not understand.
“If by my life or death I can protect you, I will” Aragorn walked up to the hobbit while talking, kneeling before him as he spoke again, “You have my sword.” His words echoed the ones Cefrey had uttered before.
Legolas took a step forward as well, his countenance grim yet determined, “And you have my bow.”
Another came forward beside the elf, “And my axe,” said Gimli, son of Gloin.
“You carry the fate of us all, little one,” Boromir spoke and took a step forward. “If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done.” Despite his previous misgivings, the mage felt as though he would be crucial to their journey and deemed to hold no ill will towards the man.
Cefrey smiled at the group that was forming as a thought graced her mind; perhaps this quest did have a fighting chance–
Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as out from the bushes came a shouting Samwise Gamgee as he ran up next to Frodo, “Mr. Frodo’s not going anywhere without me!”
With a glint of bemusement in his eyes, Lord Elrond shook his head at the headstrong hobbit, “No indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.”
“Wait!” Two more hobbits burst forth, completing the group of four halflings that Cefrey helped guide to Rivendell. “We’re coming too!” Exclaimed Merry, Pippin not far behind, much to the elven lord’s astoundment. “You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us.”
“Anyway,” Pippin spoke, with much conviction and confidence in his voice. “You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission… quest… thing.”
Merry shot him an unamused glance, “Well that rules you out, Pip.”
The mage chuckled at their antics before stepping in line beside Aragorn, and with the rest of their interesting group.
Elrond’s gaze wandered over each person standing beside Frodo, a faint, proud smile curling on his lips, “Ten companions…” He nodded resolutely. “So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!”
“Great!” The youngest hobbit spoke yet again, “Where are we going?”
.
The meeting having ended, the recently formed fellowship disbanded with their respective groups to gather their things, to say goodbyes, and to prepare for the upcoming journey. Cefrey was amongst those ten companions, a fact which continued to astound her. Her, a wandering mage of unknown origins, who spent most of her life simply living, especially after all that she had been through. A woman, in the end, a simple woman who lived longer than other women she knew, who aged differently because of what? Her magic? Some outside force? It couldn’t all have been fate that created her, that led to her having such a strange life.
The woman sighed heavily, those thoughts had been running rampant through her mind for the past few days as one strange occurrence after another continued to happen to her, around her, because of her. Cefrey rounded a corner, the trim of her dress brushing against the stone floor as she walked through the halls of Imladris. Her mind still going a mile a minute, the mage came to a stop as her eyes focused on a man just ahead of her. His back was turned slightly, but she could tell it was him almost immediately. Strider… well Aragorn as he should be referred to as now, stood a mere distance away, hands clasped tightly behind his back, from what she could see of his expression, it seemed contemplative, in a way. Perhaps he, too, was dealing with troublesome thoughts that refused to go away.
At the sight of the ranger, Cefrey was reminded of how his identity was rather abruptly thrown in her face at the meeting just hours before. They had not been able to speak about it since, each having their own duties and ministrations to attend to, but the desire to was definitely there. At least for Cefrey it was, she could not speak for what Aragorn thought.
Approaching Aragorn, the mage clasped her hands in front of her, a few ways of broaching the topic of his identity ran through her mind until she settled on one, “I wondered why you had looked upon those shards of that forgotten sword so despondently before, and now, I suppose, I know why.” Her tone was not one of displeasure or hurt, she did not hold his secrets against him. “The heir to Gondor, and here I thought I was merely traveling with a common man.”
The ranger sighed but did not seem displeased at her company nor her comment, simply resigned to it. “That sword and those titles carry a burden I am not sure I wish to bear.” His grey eyes lifted to look into her green ones, and Cefrey could see the pain and the guilt he felt, all because of men he was distantly related to. “How can I, a common man as you say, hope to repair the mistakes made so long ago, mistakes that are coming back to light, mistakes that I feel the need to help rectify.”
“Mistakes made by men you have never met, by men that are not you, Aragorn.” The mage furrowed her eyebrows, sympathy and kindness in her face and voice. She did not understand why he carried such guilt for things he did not do. “Do not let those who came before you dictate what you will do in the future. Your fate is in your hands to do with what you will.”
She wanted to say more, to say that she saw his kindness, courage, his empathy for others. That he could never be like his ancestors, that she knew, in her heart and soul, that he was better, and that he would change the world in such wondrous ways. But she felt that it was not her place to say such things, at least not yet. They knew each other for mere days, and she also believed that these were things he must figure out on his own, that he would not believe them yet as he has not said them to himself.
Aragorn huffed a quiet laugh, “You are wise beyond your years, Cefrey the Green.”
His comment held some underlying meaning to the mage, he took her words to heart, yes, but she did not think that he fully believed them yet. Perhaps they should switch to other topics, she thought, ones that were not so melancholy.
“Wise beyond my years, you say?” Her tone and body language shifted to a more playful disposition. “I suppose that depends on how old you think I am.”
At that, she saw the ranger’s expression change as well, he definitely knew that she was trying to switch the tone of their conversation, but he was also curious at what she meant by that. “Is this some trick to get me to stumble over trying to guess your age?”
Cefrey laughed openly at that, “I would never do such a thing, I would never make you guess a lady’s age in such a way, nor do I think you would get it right.”
“And why is that?” The ranger questioned.
“Because… I am seventy eight.”
Aragorn’s eyes widened slightly and it was not difficult to guess why. While the Dunedain aged slower than most men, and the mage was certain Aragorn was older than he appeared as well, she was most definitely not one of the Dunedain, which made her age peculiar, to say the least. However, somehow, due to her magic that flowed within her, she was also able to age much slower than others. There was not much else she could explain as to the reasonings or the science behind her aging other than her magic. She explained as such to the ranger and he took it rather easily–in spite of his earlier surprise.
Cefrey hummed, her eyes glancing at the scenery around them before landing on the man before her once more. “We both have held secrets from one another, ones that, I hope, have not ruined what trust we have formed between us.” She placed a hand on her chest, “I hold no ill will towards you for not revealing your true identity, we both have things we wish to keep close, and I respect that.”
Aragorn bowed his head towards her, a silent showing of that same respect he has for her. “You are much too kind, Cefrey the Green, and while your kindness is your virtue, I still feel as though I should have been the one to tell you who I am, not have it be revealed to you in such a manner.”
A small smile graced her freckled features, “And your chivalry and wisdom is your virtue… Aragorn.”
Saying his true name felt right to her for some reason unbeknownst to her. Cefrey bid farewell to the ranger then, unsure if their conversation should continue even though she wished it to. As much as she wanted to simply sit and talk to him, this man she met not days before, she knew that they did not have such time to do so. There was a darkness looming on the horizon, a darkness she was afraid would soon consume them all if they did nothing to stop it.
#lotr#kate writes#cefrey stormwind#aragorn x oc#aragorn x reader#naud bui amarth#i have most of the movies planned out#just have to find the motivation to write it tehe
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Illuskan Names:
(Male) Ander, Blath, Bran, Frath, Geth, Lander, Luth, Malcer, Stor, Taman, Urth;
(female) Amafrey, Betha, Cefrey, Kethra, Mara, Olga, Silifrey, Westra; (surnames) Brightwood, Helder, Hornraven, Lackman, Stormwind, Windrivver
- MinMin
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Cefrey Stormwind || Cefrey the Green
"Fate is a fickle thing. It can be rewritten by the people it tries to ensnare, but it will always be there. Bringing people together, tearing them apart. Forcing an innocent mind to be corrupted, and the strongest of hearts to be broken." (excerpt from Naud Bui Amarth)
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SCREAMING AND CRYING LOOK AT MY GIRL!!!! tysm @sovhina / @lyriumsings for this absolutely gorgeous commission!!!!!!! I've already said it but I'll say it again, I am in love with this so much, Cefrey looks so perfect 🥺🥺
#kates ocs#kate talks#cefrey stormwind#naud bui amarth#i love this so much#she looks so pretty🥺🥺🥺#pls go show winnie some love#their art is absolutely amazing
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possible new chapter of Naud Bui Amarth coming out today!!
#kate talks#naud bui amarth#lotr#aragorn x oc#cefrey stormwind#watched the trilogy over the past week or so and i was able to finish the next chapter last night#just gotta read through it#edit stuff#you know the drill
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Naud Bui Amarth
Note: tehe hello again. i was watching two towers with my dad and sister and decided, why not write more of my girl Cefrey lol. the next chapter is already in the works and i'm really excited with where this is all going!! i have a lot of it all planned out and i'm super excited to share it with you all! thank you for reading, and comments, likes, reblogs, etc are more than welcome! let me know if you have any questions!! love you all <3
Other Sites: Ao3, Quotev
Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader
Warnings: none, other than fighting again
Rating: T
Words: 3,329
Part Five (Part One ; Part Two ; Part Three ; Part Four)
That feeling of helplessness, of fear of the unknown made its way into Cefrey’s heart like a hot knife shredding her insides. She ran alongside Strider, in his arms the small hobbit gasping for breath. She saw the darkness slowly consuming him, if they did not reach the elves in time, he would not survive.
They made it to the trees where the ranger set Frodo down, his head resting against a mossy stone. Sam crouched next to him, his face filled with worry, as were all of theirs. Cefrey turned to Strider, fear evident in her eyes.
“If we do not get him to Rivendell now, he will pass.” Her voice held conviction underneath the fear.
Strider nodded solemnly. “I agree. Sam!” The Nazguls shrill screams could be heard getting closer, they had to move. “Do you know the Athelas plant?”
She knew what he was trying to do, but it would not save Frodo for the six day journey to Imladris on foot. Grabbing the ranger’s arm tightly, Cefrey spoke in a low voice, “There is no time, I will bring him myself, you will catch up with me.”
His eyes widened, and Cefrey knew he would try to stop her. “The wraiths will catch you before you even get close to the elves.”
The mage smirked. “Do you really have so little faith in me?”
Calling out to the wild, Cefrey reached out, using one of the many techniques Gandalf taught her during their many years traveling. Out of the woods, a stark black horse appeared, its eyes a striking white, like the stars in a night sky. Mornië. The horse walked up to the group, its head held high, black mane moving in the light breeze.
Cefrey looked back at Strider, waiting for him to rebuke her once again. “I am stronger than you think.”
She heaved herself onto the horse’s back while the ranger picked up the frail hobbit and placed him in front of her. He placed a hand on its neck, staring into the mare’s eyes before looking back up at Cefrey, “Ride hard. Do not let them catch you.”
Urging Mornië to ride fast and true, they sprinted through the trees, jumping over stones and fallen branches. She could sense the black riders getting closer along with Frodo slipping further into their grasp. They would not take him. Not if she was there. Keeping a hand tight around the halfling’s small body and another on the steed, Cefrey closed her eyes, her trust in Mornië to get them to Imladris swiftly was true. Muttering faint phrases under breath, the mage’s hand glowed with a white light, enveloping the hobbit, protecting him. She knew it would drain her and she knew it was risky, especially just after fighting the Nazgul, but she also knew that the darkness would consume him if she did nothing.
Mornië rode faster, the sound of hooves becoming louder behind them. Cefrey felt her body slump with strain, but she fought it; she had to stay awake, the shrieks no longer in the distance solidified that thought. The mage kept her hand on Frodo, shielding him from the darkness and dug her heels into the horse’s sides. Even still, three black riders caught up to her as the sun rose once again, her eyes narrowed, heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t fend them off and protect Frodo… Cefrey raised her head. But she would damn well try.
Gripping Frodo tighter to her chest, the sorceress mumbled a few words under her breath before lifting a hand into the air and blinding the riders with pale white light like she had before, it seemed to hurt them the most. The Nazgul screeched but continued their pursuit, albeit further behind than they were before. Cefrey felt her breath grow heavy, she was losing focus. Her steed continued even faster, allowing them to gain even more distance as she caught her breath. They were nearing a shallow stream, the hooves of the horse creating waves in the water, wetting her boots and face.
They crossed the stream just as Cefrey began to disperse the magical shield she put around the halfling. She focused on creating a barrier between herself and the wraiths, using the water to aid her magic. Swirling water mixed with bright white light sprung up in the stream as they passed through to the other side. The black riders screeched in anger, in pain as the light blinded them, the water pushing their horses back down the river.
Mornië reared up, Cefrey patted its neck to soothe it before moving away from the stream. Her thoughts were interrupted as Frodo gasped in pain, almost falling off the horse if Cefrey hadn’t caught him. Jumping down herself, the mage picked up the halfling, resting his head in her lap as she kneeled on the rocks. Her hands combed through his hair, tears threatening to fall freely as she held onto him.
“Do not leave us now, Frodo. It is not your time.” Her voice trembled, her hands shaking as she mumbled under her breath. Healing was not her strong suit, but with what strength she had, she let flow through her, letting the light wash over the darkness that was taking hold of his heart.
Frodo’s eyes closed, his breathing calmed. Cefrey leaned over him, mumbling words under her breath as the magic flowed from her into his frail body, taking hold of the darkness within him and flooding it with light. This magic, as all magic did with the mage, came at a price. As the halfling's affliction faded away, Cefrey felt her own body slowly become more fatigued. Her muscles began to ache, her eyelids fluttering shut as her magic waned, the light dimming around her. The last thing she saw was the soothed face of the hobbit she swore to protect…
.
She woke to the sound of running water, of wind brushing through leaves and birds singing their lovely songs. Cefrey groaned as she sat up, clutching at her pounding head. Green eyes scanned the unfamiliar room she was in. She sighed in relief as she realized she was safe within the walls of Imladris.
A gasp left her once she remembered what happened before she fell unconscious. Pulling the covers off and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, the mage practically ran over to the door despite her legs protesting in pain. Wrenching it open, Cefrey gripped onto the door frame, her body doubling over as her vision became blurry.
She felt a warm hand rest on her shoulder, helping her up and back into her room. The figure led her to sit on the bed as he leaned down in front of her.
Cefrey opened her eyes as her vision cleared, focusing on the man before her, worry written all over his face. A tired laugh escaped her, her body finally relaxing now that she was sitting.
"Sorry about that, Strider," The mage smiled.
Strider merely shook his head at her antics, rising to his feet once he realized she was feeling better. "You know, most people don't go running out everywhere after the sort of ordeal you went through."
"Yes, well I would think by now you'd have figured out I'm not like most people."
The man chuckled under his breath, walking to sit on a chair across from her. His expression turned serious then, his hand reaching up to run across his face. It was then that Cefrey noticed his change in appearance. Gone was the rugged wild man who led them through the wilderness, instead replaced by a... cleaner version of the man she met in Bree. His hair was washed and combed through, his beard trimmed nicely, and his clothes were that of elven make. All in all, he cleaned up quite well in Cefrey's mind.
Her thoughts were quickly dashed however when she also noticed his change in expression. "What is it?"
Strider's eyes met hers, his gaze never faltering as he leaned over, resting his arms on his legs." Cefrey..." The way he said her name caused a frown to form on her lips. He continued. " You had me… us worried for a while there. And while I know you saved Frodo and you would do it again, for anyone, it…" He leaned bathing the chair, his eyes finally leaving hers. "Well, I merely wish you thought about yourself more often."
Cefrey's eyes widened at that. He was worried? Well why wouldn't he be? Strider seemed to worry about everyone more often than not.
"Thank you for being so concerned, Strider, but I swore to Gandalf that I would keep Frodo and the other hobbits safe." She trailed off, "Speaking of, are they okay? Are they safe?"
Standing up, Strider made his way over to her. “I… I understand where you're coming from. And," He placed a hand on her shoulder. "The hobbits are all safe. Frodo is still resting, but he is making a swift recovery.”
Sighing in relief, Cefrey nodded her head. “That is very good to hear, thank you.”
“Of course.” The man looked over at her again. “He would not be here without you, you saved his life.”
“Yes, I-” She glanced up at him, a sad smile on her face, one that he could not seem to decipher as relief or purely sadness. Without continuing her last thought, the mage stood up from the bed, causing Strider to back up a bit as well. “I suppose I should let you go now.” Her smile grew a bit more then. “I’m feeling much better now, but some food would definitely help.”
The ranger nodded his head, stepping back to allow her to move. He walked over to the door, looking back one last time only to see the melancholiness that resided in those stark green eyes. Glancing away, he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Gathering her emotions and tucking them away for the time being, Cefrey found a nice green dress laid out for her on the other side of the room. It was different from her usual one, but nonetheless it was beautiful, as were most things made by the elves. She would have to thank Elrond when she finally saw him again.
Before she could make it out of the room, a knock resounded on the door. Taking in a deep breath, the mage opened the door only to reveal quite the friendly face.
“Gandalf!”
Smiling brightly, Cefrey reached her arms around the old wizard and gave him the biggest hug she could muster. He laughed jovially and returned the hug, placing a hand on her hair.
Her smile ever present on her face, the mage stepped back and got a good look at her old friend. “You old coot, you scared me half to death when you didn’t show up in Bree!” She smacked his arm playfully.
“I am sorry, my dear, I…” His voice lowered a bit. “I was caught up in something quite unfavorable.”
Knowing the wizard and his definition of unfavorable, Cefrey wished to press him for more information but she also knew that he would reveal it in time, if he desired to. Giving Gandalf a caring look, the mage sighed heavily. “Well, I’m happy you’re here now. The journey here was quite eventful for us too.”
Gandalf nodded his head solemnly. “Yes, I heard what had transpired at the ruins of Amon Sul. I must thank you for keeping young Frodo safe.”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” She grinned. Placing a hand on her hip, Cefrey offered her arm for her friend to take. “Now then, since I did just valiantly save Frodo from a hoard of Nazgul, I think I deserve some food.”
Shaking his head, Gandalf took her offered arm. “Yes, I believe you do.”
.
A few days had passed before Cefrey heard that Frodo had awoken. During those few days of rest, the mage was able to chat briefly with Lord Elrond, as well as other elves she had met on some of her visits to Rivendell. Not only was she able to catch up with them, another one of her old friends had shown up.
“Bilbo Baggins, as I live and breathe.” A friendly smile rested on her lips as she walked over to where the old hobbit resided.
Said hobbit looked up as she approached, a look of surprise the joy washing across his weathered face. “Cefrey the Green! Oh it is wonderful to see you again.”
Cefrey walked over to the bench he was sitting on, taking a seat beside him. “I can say the same to you, my friend, it has been too long.”
The mage, due to her longer life span and friendship with Gandalf, had met Bilbo during his journey with those pesky dwarves. She did not stay long, only helped them out here or there. But even with that brief time spent, she and Bilbo had become fast friends. That was a story for another time, perhaps.
“Have you seen my nephew yet? I heard that it was you who had saved him.” The wrinkles around his mouth deepened as he smiled, resting his hands on the mage’s. “I must thank you, dear Cefrey. I don’t know what I would do with myself if something happened to him.”
Cefrey held Bilbo’s hands gently. “Of course, and if he needs it, I will continue to keep him safe, you have my word.”
Saying their goodbyes, the two old friends parted ways. The mage went to visit Frodo after all of his friends had, repeating the oath she promised his uncle to the young hobbit. Cefrey somehow knew that he would need her help in days to come. Something was approaching, and it was approaching much faster than she anticipated.
Walking along the beautifully carved hallways of Imladris, Cefrey found herself in a room she had never come across during her time there. It was quiet, the sun slowly setting, turning the world around her into a realm of twilight. Before she went into the room, a man she had not seen before came rushing out, pausing briefly as he made eye contact with her. Neither said a word and the man shook his head, huffing out a breath of air before continuing on his way. Cefrey was slightly confused at that, but pushed that thought to the back of her mind and moved into the same room he had just left.
Inside were paintings of battles and statues of beautiful elves, as well as a certain ranger. Cefrey watched as he picked up a broken blade from the floor, testing its grip and staring at the sharp edges. He stayed there for a moment and something in the way he held the sword sparked something within the mage, like she had seen that same stance before…
Strider placed the sword back on its pedestal, sighing heavily before closing his eyes. Something compelled Cefrey to go over to him, and as she made her way around the room she saw his shoulders rise and fall with each breath.
“You seem very at home here.” Her voice was soft as to not startle him.
He turned around slowly, his eyes resting on her form. She noticed his jaw tighten then relax, as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. “You are very observant, miss Cefrey.” The ranger moved his head ever so slightly, looking back at the broken sword.
She followed his gaze and furrowed her brows. The mage walked up to it, standing beside the man as his eyes followed her movement. Resting a few lithe fingers atop a shard of the blade, her lips pursed in thought. “This blade, it… I know it.”
“They are the shards of Narsil,” Strider moved closer to the mage, the tone of his voice low and quiet. “Most know the story of its past. Isildur used it to cut the Ring from Sauron's hand.”
A quiet understanding moved through Cefrey. Of course she knew the story, like the ranger said, most did. Her green eyes moved from the shards back to the man beside her, eyes squinting a bit before she spoke. “It is strange isn’t it.”
The man hummed.
“How we both have been here, many times it appears, and yet we have only met recently.”
Strider smirked lightly, “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Fate works in mysterious ways,” Cefrey moved away from the ranger, her voice filled with mirth and curiosity. “Do not forget that, dear ranger.”
As she walked away, the mage turned back and saw Strider rest a hand on the hilt of the sword once more, a contemplative look on his face. She knew there was something more to this man, this Dunedain who had this persistent cloud of guilt around him. What was he guilty of? What was he hiding? It was not her business, of course, but Cefrey knew deep down that their paths were not done crossing, that fate had some strange plan for the two of them. Or perhaps not just them. There was a darkness brewing, she knew that much, and with the other man she encountered and the four hobbits and that evil Ring, Cefrey knew they all had some part to play. What it was exactly, only time will tell.
.
Aragorn wandered the halls of Imladris, taking in the familiar sights, allowing his thoughts to return to the conversation he had with Cefrey. The mage had a way with words he could not understand. It was almost as if she knew exactly what he needed to hear without ever asking. She saw right through him and it was… humbling. The ranger rarely was able to open up to people, deciding it was easier for everyone involved that he kept himself and his past closed off. And then this strange woman entered his life, able to see through his toughest defenses, and he wasn’t even sure she knew the effect she had on him.
There was no understanding of the mage and her strange words. But, the ranger relented, he quite enjoyed it. Their conversations never grew dull, never went in a direction he did not like. And somehow he knew that they would continue to cross paths, despite it seeming like their journey together had come to an end.
Sighing heavily, Aragorn stopped on a small bridge. It was hidden away from the rest of Rivendell, allowing him some solace and rest. Or, at least he thought it would.
An elven maid the ranger had grown close to walked up to stand beside him, her dark hair flowing down her face, resting atop the white gown she wore. “You seem shaken, Aragorn.” She spoke in elvish, to which the ranger responded in kind.
“I do not know what the future holds.”
Arwen smiled softly at that, turning to face him, “You fear the past will turn into your future? That the mistakes of those who came before you will turn into your own?”
Aragorn said nothing for a moment, his gaze fixed on the water beneath him. “Arwen… I am unsure of what to do–”
The elf cut him off, raising a pale hand. “Your fate is not written in stone, none is.” She stepped closer to him, resting a hand on his chest. “You know, inside, what you must do, who you must help.” Arwen’s hand fell back to her side. “Do not forget your past, but do not let it define your future.”
Aragorn finally turned to face her, a sad glint in his eyes. Arwen merely smiled, an understanding within her that the ranger could not figure out. She bowed her head slightly before turning and walking away, leaving the ranger to his thoughts once more.
----
I got some art commission by @/sleazy-art here on tumblr!!! Look at how amazing it is and go show them some love 😊
#aragorn#aragorn x reader#aragorn x oc#aragorn/oc#oc#lotr#lord of the rings#fellowship of the ring#naud bui amarth#cefrey stormwind
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In lieu of releasing part five of naud bui amarth, here's a fun oc sheet I made for Cefrey!!! It gives some more insight on her character if you wanna look at it lol
Also! Just a funky thing to know, Cefrey is demisexual! Bc I am also demisexual and like to project into my ocs💀
(also I did not draw any of the pics used, I just use picrew lmao)
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Naud Bui Amarth
Note: omg it's been a while. I am working on the next part but school do be crazy. I have not given up on this story tho! I just fell into some other fandoms for a bit lol. And this one is shorter than normal, I didn’t want to add too much more because then I wouldn't have a good time to stop and I like where it ends here lol. Next chapter should be pretty long to make up for it though! thank you for reading, comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome! (and I am still finishing up a few requests, I really wanted to publish this lol)
Other Sites: Ao3, Quotev
Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader
Warnings: none, other than fighting
Rating: T
Words: 2,225
Part Four (Part One ; Part Two ; Part Three ; Part Five)
Cefrey knew not what to do about her odd “relationship” with the ranger. He made her think, made the hours tick by at a snail’s pace. And he did it all without saying more than a few words to her at any given time. It was even frustrating at points. She didn’t know what to say, what to do around him. And she didn’t even know if he felt the same when he was around her. If he felt that tug on her heart, the pain that… to be frank she rarely noticed anymore.
She hadn’t fully realized that the pain in her chest was a constant throughout the past few days during her journey. It didn’t even register in her mind that it could be connected to their guide. Instead, her mind merely thought about him, not what their connection truly was.
After that night in the marsh, Strider would actually talk more to the mage. He would speak to her in Sindarin most of the time, either preferring that language, or wanting their conversations to be more private. Either way, Cefrey quite enjoyed their chats. Sometimes they would just talk about the scenery, how traveling through the many environments was nice, it brought change to their lives and a hardship to their journey. Other times, she would start singing an elvish ballad, prompting the ranger to join in, even when he didn’t mean to.
During their small sessions, speaking in elvish, the hobbits behind them would notice the friendship that blossomed between the two. They would whisper to each other that Cefrey must have had some sort of charm to her, as they couldn’t understand how Strider had opened up as much as he did. He rarely talked to the halflings, though they never realized how much he cared. His heart truly was filled to the brim with kindness and sympathy.
Cefrey learned through their conversations that Strider was definitely more than he seemed. She knew the Dunedain were knowledgeable in many things and yet this particular ranger had more to him than met the eye. The mage wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out what was behind the layers of dark clothing, or if she preferred him the way he was; dark and mysterious.
They exited the marshlands a day after she heard him sing, and entered a simple area filled with pines and rolling hills topped with frost-bitten grass. The blonde let her hair down to add an extra layer of warmth and put her hood up, trying to keep out the chill in the air. They spent another night in the open air, the next day filled with more hiking.
Soon, however, they began to cross over a small hill, the sun had set a few moments before, and atop it stood a large ruined temple. Rocks jutted out of the sides, the once beautiful walls were crumbled and broken adding an eerie atmosphere to it all.
“This was once the great Watchtower of Amon Sul. We shall rest here tonight.” The ranger took them up and over the rest of the hill, letting the hobbits drop their bags and make camp on an outcropping just below the actual ruins.
Walking over to where Strider stood watching over the plains, Cefrey looked at him, unsure of where her mind was going. “You’re going to leave them some weapons before you leave, correct?”
He sighed, his gaze still pinned to the horizon. “Of course, you will be going with me, then?”
She merely nodded. The ranger had asked her a few hours before to accompany him while he scouted ahead and aid him in collecting some more food. But they both knew better than to leave the halflings unarmed while they were gone. She didn’t know why he wanted her to come with him, and she didn’t exactly care. She thought it would be nice to walk around the cold fields, the stars shining above them.
Strider went back to where the hobbits were setting up camp and dropped to one knee, pulling out a bundle and placing it on the stone. Unrolling it, he revealed four smaller swords, one for each of them. They picked up their weapons, most likely having never held much less fought with a sword before. Cefrey second-guessed herself then. Should she really leave them alone? She knew it wouldn’t be too long before she and the ranger returned, but she still feared for her companions. Her… friends.
It was a strange feeling for the mage. The only one she truly called her friend was Gandalf. And even then, he had been the one to mentor her, practically raise her. While these four hobbits just stumbled into her life, her care for them only grew as the days went by.
And then there was Strider…
Her mind would have gone on and on had it not been for the very man she was thinking of placing a hand on her shoulder, gesturing for them to carry on.
Cefrey nodded, albeit slightly embarrassed about where her thoughts were taking her. She turned to the halflings, a small smile on her face, “Get some rest, you four. We’ll be back before you know it.”
.
The sun had completely set by the time Cefrey and the ranger had walked a few leagues away from the watchtower. A blanket of darkness fell across the land, letting the tiny, white dots of stars shine bright. The cold air nipped at the mage's exposed skin, causing her to pull her cloak tighter, the hood over her head. Though, even with the iciness around her, she couldn't help but admire the beauty of the night. Unfortunately, she could not stay and stare at the stars, she was out on this escapade for a reason, after all.
Lighting a torch so to make their task easier, Strider trekked a few feet ahead of the mage. His searchful, dark eyes scanning each and every object on the horizon. Some may not have seen it -- in fact, most wouldn't -- but this ranger, this man, was not merely looking around him for obvious signs of danger, he was searching, digging into his surroundings to make sure he knew exactly where everything was. Such was the life of a wanderer, of a solitary man, out there not just to defend himself, but anyone he could.
Cefrey was not sure what to think of that sentiment. She had lived by herself and for herself for so long that it was hard to think ahead. In fact, her mind had drifted off many times to what would happen in the future. After they had made it to Rivendell, after she had fulfilled her promise to Gandalf. What would she do? She did not know. To be frank, she usually would not think of such things, of the path ahead. She much preferred to live in the present. To understand that things would come to pass in the next day, next year, yes. But also to understand that she had no sway over what would happen. And to let that guide her.
And yet… many things had changed that mindset over the course of just a few days. The ring, the hobbits, the ranger. She began to think ahead more; about the ring, if her friendship with the halflings would continue. If her strange relationship with Strider would bloom into something dear to her, or fall into dust and ash. And she did not like her mind constantly thinking about those things. It went against everything she had taught herself.
Though, another one of her beliefs was going along with the change around her. To accept that change was inevitable was, in a way, following her core ideology.
Sighing heavily, she continued walking, ahead of the ranger until she stood upon a rock, overlooking much of the path they were to take. Strider walked up beside her, torch still in hand as he, too, surveyed the land before turning to her, a curious look in his glance.
"You know how to scout?"
Cefrey laughed a little. "What? Did you think all I did was prance around and pick flowers?" She hopped off the boulder and did exactly what she said; bending down to pick a few wild flowers at her feet, the blonde mocked her own words. The action earned her a light chuckle from Strider, a smile subconsciously making its way to her face at the sound.
"I've had to fend for myself for quite a while, mister ranger…" She trailed off, her gaze moving back towards the horizon. "It's quite a lonesome life, isn't it? Surviving on your own. Even if you are doing it for those who cannot defend themselves…"
The ranger kept his eyes on the mage, a strange feeling making its way into his heart. He still knew little about her, and she also knew little about him, yet she was able to day things that made perfect sense. It was maddening at some points, while quite calming at others.
Before he could say anything to the mage, a loud shriek sounded through the plains, a tell tale sign of the black riders that were chasing them. Without another word spoken between the two, they ran towards the watchtower.
As the wind whipped past the pair, they sprinted down the fields towards the watchtower, both afraid of what would happen to the hobbits, and if the enemy managed to get the ring… Cefrey shuddered at the thought. Scenes of destruction, pools of blood, death, flashed in her vision, making her legs push harder and faster.
Cefrey’s heart beat loudly and quickly as each minute passed by. She had no idea what the hobbits were doing. Had the black riders caught them unaware? Were they already taken, or worse, killed? Or had they heard the shrill scream and prepared to fight? Either way, she knew they were no match for the wraiths, even with their bravery. Cefrey hoped against all hopes that the little halflings were safe. She knew that they would fight and protect Frodo with everything they had, but she also knew that they had no idea what they were truly up against.
As if sensing her uneasiness, the ranger sped up his sprint, making her do the same. He opened his mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it, instead he merely surged forward, also knowing that their small companions desperately needed their aid. He did not know what to say at that moment. Should he comfort her? Tell her everything would be fine? Strider shook his head. He would not lie to her. Not when so much was at stake.
Weathertop finally came into view, though it was not a pleasant sight. The pair ran up the hill, swords drawn, breath heavy, heart pounding. The dark shapes of the Nazgul brought with them an atmosphere of doom and death, as if they, themselves, were evil incarnate, that they carried with them nothing but ruin and destruction. The darkness seeped into Cefrey’s skin, reaching for whatever held her together. Her chest contracted with pain, but she fought through it. There were more important matters for her to take care of. And this evil would not stop her.
Once they reached the top of the tower, the ranger beside her yelled and ran at one of the black riders, fighting him off of the small ringbearer lying in the rubble. The mage took the opportunity and followed Strider into the fray, sword clashing against ones much mightier than hers.
But she would not yield. Not to beings as evil as these. Out of the corner of her eye, Cefrey saw the ranger push back the Nazgul with his torch, the light seemed to scare them away. She was quickly brought back to when she first fought off the black riders and she steeled herself. Switching her sword to her left hand, the mage deftly swung and blocked while gathering her strength, before blasting one of the enemies with a bright flash of white light. The Nazgul screeched in pain and swiftly backed away, the light doing more damage than her sword could. Cefrey blinded another alongside the ranger until all the black riders disappeared into the darkness where they belonged.
Sheathing her sword, Cefrey took in some deep breaths, exhausted from the fight she just endured. Without thinking for herself or her own needs, her eyes flicked to the small hobbit gasping for air on the stone. She rushed over to him, pulling his head to rest in her lap. The ranger knelt beside her, a look of sorrow in his eyes behind the mask of seriousness he put up. He picked up a broken blade laying on the ground, his eyes narrowing at the make of it.
“He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade,” Cefrey took the dagger from Strider’s grasp, looking it over herself before dropping it in shock as it turned to dust in her hands. “This is beyond my skill to heal.” He glanced at the mage beside him and she shook her head. She had only seen a wound like that once, and she was but a child. Strider scooped the paling hobbit into his arms, Cefrey standing up soon after. “He needs elven medicine. We must go!”
#naud bui amarth#aragorn#aragorn x oc#aragorn x reader#oc#reader#lotr#cefrey stormwind#lord of the rings#kate writes#i miss this story#and i wanted to give you guys a treat#so here you go <3
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just a little moodboard for Cefrey from my fic Naud Bui Amarth✨
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Naud Bui Amarth
Note: hiya, I said I was gonna update before next year, so here we are. I hope you like this chapter now that we finally have some Aragorn-- I mean Strider, action lol. Thank you all for the support and I'll see you in the next update!
Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader
Word Count: 2,777
Part Two (Part One ; Part Three : Part Four ; Part Five)
Night had completely enveloped the land, bringing with it dark storm clouds that soon broke to torrential rain. It flooded the streets, turning the dirt into sticky mud and making the branches heave under the pressure. The hobbits had made it across the river to the closest dock near Bree and cautiously made their way to the large wooden gate. Cefrey, now rested enough to walk, took the lead, not wanting her small companions to get lost in the mud and water that ran down their faces even with the hoods.
With glances in every direction whenever they walked to the next tree, Cefrey made sure that they were not caught off guard again. She may have regained most of her strength, but that spell from before drained her more than she would care to admit. And she knew they would not be so lucky the next time they ran into one -- or more -- of those black riders.
The lights of the gate flickered into view and a small dose of relief washed over the blonde. Bree may not have been the safest place for the five of them to go, but once they caught up with Gandalf, Cefrey knew they would be in better, more capable hands.
Her hood pulled tighter over her head as she left the tiny amount of shelter the trees gave her, Cefrey guided her four companions towards the gate. She knocked loudly, wanting to get into the slight safety the wall of Bree brought and out of the open road.
A small window opened up at her height and a surly looking old man popped his head through, eyeing the mage with a suspicious gaze. “What do you want?”
She gestured to the four halflings behind her and the gatekeeper’s eyes widened just a bit more, “We’re heading for the Prancing Pony. My friends and I require rest there.”
“And our business is our own.” Frodo interjected, also feeling the danger of being out in the open.
The gatekeeper nodded his head and unlocked the gate, allowing the strange group of five to walk into the confines of the small town. “All right, young sir, I meant no offense,” As the hobbits walked ahead of the blonde, the gatekeeper whispered to her so they wouldn’t hear. “It’s my job to ask questions after nightfall. There’s talk of strange folk abroad, can’t be too careful.”
Cefrey nodded her head gratefully and went after the others. The old man closed and locked the gate behind them, watching the group for a while longer before shrugging and returning to his work.
Trying to keep the halflings from getting run over, Cefrey finally spotted the old rusted sign of a white pony and ushered them all inside. She went over to the desk and cleared her throat, getting the barkeep’s attention.
“I require a room for the night. Preferably one for four hobbits.” Her voice ever wavered, having asked for a room here before, she knew exactly the accommodations they had.
The older man with his bushy mustache nodded his head after viewing the four halflings behind her. “Of course, young lady. Name, please?”
“Stormwind.”
“Ah, of course. Right away.”
She stopped the barkeep from leaving just yet with a quick raising of her hand. “Oh, one more thing. We’re supposed to meet Gandalf here. Gandalf the Gray?
He continued cleaning the glass as he pondered her question. “Gandalf the Gray?... No, I don’t believe he’s been here in over six months.”
Cefrey bit the inside of her lip and thanked the barkeep for his help. After situating their room keys, Cefrey told the hobbits to get some food and drink, gifting them a few coins from her purse that, in Sam’s mind, appeared out of nowhere. She told them they would wait as long as they could for Gandalf to appear, though she knew that something must have happened to him to make him this late. Frodo asked if she would be joining them and she politely declined, saying there was a bit of business she needed to take care of.
Without another word, the sorceress left the establishment, though not before catching the eye of a certain cloaked man. He continued to watch her until she left the rowdy inn, his gray eyes sparkling in curiosity. She pulled her hood back over her tangled and wet hair and walked out into the rain. Her eyes scanned the shops that outlined the cobblestone street and smiled once she found the one she was looking for.
The shop was small, almost invisible unless you were looking for it. Cramped in between two much larger buildings, this tiny shop was exactly the place Cefrey needed to be. The blue circle over the door was the only indication of what it was. There was no sign, no label, just a small blue dot. The blonde rested her hand over the symbol and closed her eyes, breathing in the petrichor of the rain around her. A small creaking noise sounded, drowned out by the many people walking and the rain slapping against the roofs and road. With a quick glance to her surroundings, Cefrey slipped inside.
She breathed normally now. The familiar scent of herbs and spices filling her lungs with each breath. Inside, the shop was just as small as it seemed outside. No windows around, the only light being from a single lantern hanging from the middle of the ceiling, casting an eerie yellow glow over everything. Walls were covered by tapestries and shelves filled to the brim with bottles and other knick knacks.
Judging from the dust that covered the surfaces around her, no one had visited this shop in quite a while. She sighed. It was unfortunate that the owner didn’t open up to more guests. Cefrey would have loved to see him again, though she understood his need to go into hiding. Her powers led her to meet very strange yet wonderful people. Including the owner of this small shop.
She looked around the room, trying to remember where the chest was that held the objects she desired. After a few moments of searching -- and of grabbing a few things she also needed -- she finally found the old wooden box. There was no lock, no handle in sight, and once she got close to it, it swiftly opened, revealing its contents.
A smile on her lips and a sad glint in her eyes, Cefrey grabbed the dust covered sheath, the handle of the beautifully engraved sword also covered with cobwebs. Brushing what she could off, the blonde put the sword down beside her and reached in the chest to grab yet another item. This one, a small satchel of clothes and a few other items. She pulled out the leather pants and dagger and got to work. After the ordeal they went through with the black riders, Cefrey thought it would be a good idea to wear some more practical clothes. She trimmed the dress to make the top a shirt and tucked it into the leather pants. Tying it off with a loose corset and the sword around her waist.
Swords were always something she saved for a last resort; preferring her own magic rather than the craftsmanship of some unknown smith. Though, the mage realized after feeling so drained with that spell that having a physical weapon was a good decision. She strapped the dagger to her boot and pulled the small backpack over her shoulders. At first, when Gandalf asked her to aid the two small hobbits, Cefrey thought it would be a simple walk in the woods. But now, after dealing with creatures unknown to her and not having her old friend show up when he said he would, the blonde was nervous. Perhaps she was less nervous than she should have been, but this made her think of the future, of things she couldn't control, and that was something she rarely did.
She closed the chest and threw away the remnants of her dress. With a flick of her wrist, the light above her burned out and she was out into the rain yet again. It wasn’t that she hated the rain, in fact she quite enjoyed it. But this storm felt different. Like there was some unseen force causing it to happen. And that, she did not like.
Entering the Prancing Pony yet again, she was bombarded by three of her companions, all scared by the looks on their faces.
“Miss Cefrey! Someone’s took Frodo!”
There was no need for more words spoken as the mage knew exactly the dire need to find their small ring bearer. She told the three halflings to grab what they could as weapons and ran up the stairs, searching for the power the ring emanated. She steeled herself and kicked open the door, hand on the hilt of her sword, stance ready to fight.
Before her was a tall, rugged looking man. His cloak was pulled down, pooling around his shoulders revealing a mess of dirty black hair and dark gray eyes. He gazed at the woman in front of him and she stared right back. The odd pain in her chest from before came back as she stood in front of this man, this stranger. But he was no stranger, was he? And the pain wasn’t hurting her anymore. Cefrey felt a familiar longing in her as she continued to look into his gray eyes. Something about him was so calming, comforting. But she had never met this man before. She knew nothing about him… right?
Sam pushed past her, his fists in front of him, “Let him go, or I’ll have you, Longshanks!”
The suddenness of the gardener spurred Cefrey out of her thoughts and she placed a hand on the spriteful hobbit, silently telling him to rest easy.
The man also realized there was no need for violence and lowered his sword, placing back in its sheath. A small smile curled at his lips and the mage felt her heart flutter at the sight. “You have very good friends, Frodo Baggins.”
Frodo nodded his head at that statement, agreeing completely as he saw that his companions were ready to fight for him, if necessary. The young hobbit walked over to the others and assured them he was fine.
Cefrey continued to stare at the man, and him at her. They both knew something was going on between them, but they couldn’t be sure what. It was as if they had known each other in a past life and were finally reunited in this moment. Her eyes searched his, trying to figure out what it was that drew them together.
Fortunately, the silence was broken yet again, this time by the cloaked man. “However, friends alone won’t save you. You can no longer wait for the wizard. They’re coming.”
“And we should trust you? When we don’t even know your name.” Cefrey interjected, not entirely wanting to go along with this strange man even though she did feel some sort of a connection to him. Though that only added to her suspicions.
The man tilted his head to her, a faint glint of understanding and perhaps humor in his eyes. “Of course, it would be foolish if you did trust me blindly. The people here call me Strider, and that name shall suffice, I think,” ‘Strider’ walked past her to glance out the door. “Now then, we truly must go before they come.” He turned around to face the mage and the four hobbits, though his gaze remained on the woman. “Shall we, Miss Cefrey the Green?”
Narrowing her eyes at Strider, Cefrey ignored how he knew her name and followed him out of the room, the hobbits tagging along. The man brought them to his room where he told the halflings to get some rest, they were going to need it for the long journey ahead. The mage decided against sleeping, she wanted to keep an eye out. Both for the riders and Strider.
She instead leaned against the wall, one eye on the road through the window, the other on the man sitting in a wooden chair. They said no words to each other, opting to stay in a relatively nice silence. That is until a loud screeching sounded through the inn, waking the hobbits up and causing the mage to flinch ever so slightly. Though Strider noticed and a slight smirk formed on his countenance.
Cefrey waited for the shrieks to die down before she questioned the man in a hushed tone. “What are those things, anyway?” Frodo sat at the edge of the bed, also wanting to know what was chasing them.
Strider glanced quickly at the woman beside him, then back to the window. “They were once men… Great kings of men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness and now they are slaves to his will.”
Looking out the window, Cefrey drew in a sharp intake of air at the sight of four of the horsemen getting onto their steeds before galloping away.
“They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the ring…” His dark eyes go to the small hobbit on the edge of the bed. “Drawn to the power of the one… they will never stop hunting you.”
“And that is why we must continue on…”
He merely nodded his head solemnly. The hobbits then began to pack their belongings while the blonde stayed where she was, thinking. Cefrey wondered who this Strider truly was. He knew more than she about these Nazgul, and yet he seemed like a normal traveler. Although, the more she thought about it, he wasn’t a regular traveler, was he? The sword and many other weapons along with the dark armor and knowledge of things usually unknown to most. That all pointed…
“You’re one of the Dunedain, aren’t you?”
There was no need for a response from the ranger as she already knew she was right, and the way he stiffened at her question made her believe she hit the mark. Though his next question truly surprised her.
“And you are a mage, yes?”
Strider’s dark gray eyes almost seemed black in the lack of light, but the blonde could tell he also knew he was right in his assumption. Cefrey huffed and crossed her arms. Why he got on her nerves with that small inquiry was beyond her. Yes, she would get annoyed when people asked her questions, but it was almost as if she didn’t want to get annoyed with him. Like he was important to her somehow and she wanted to like him. She wanted him to like her. And she had no idea why.
“Yes, I am. At least you didn’t say I was a wizard.”
“I would never do such a thing, my lady,” She paused at the title, unsure of whether he was being serious or not. “You are far too fair to be a wizard.”
Cefrey turned away to hide the blush that creeped up her face, not wanting to show the ranger the effect he had on her. She couldn’t deny that he wasn’t too hard on the eyes either, but that didn’t mean she would explicitly tell him that.
Thankfully, the hobbits were ready to go and both the mage and the ranger wanted to get out of Bree as quickly as possible. Strider led them out of the town, the rain having died down a while ago making it much easier to walk. As they trekked through the wilderness, Cefrey thought about all she knew of the rangers of the North, the Dunedain. They were strange folk, though she couldn’t say much against them as she was quite odd as well. The most she could recall from her teachings was that they lived longer than men and usually seemed younger than they appeared as well. That made her wonder even more if the man leading them through the green fields was actually older than he looked. She supposed she couldn’t complain, though. She was also older than most would think. After all, having magic literally run through your veins made it so she was much healthier than other humans.
Perhaps that would aid in her relationship with the ranger…
Wait. Relationship? She had no relationship with Strider… none at all…
Cefrey shook her head, clearing it of those thoughts and kept on walking, a few steps behind Strider.
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Mood boards for my ocs? All of whom are lotr/hobbit?
More likely than you'd think😉
#lotr#the hobbit#my ocs#moodboard#oc moodboard#cefrey stormwind#annekathrin holimion#maescia wincor#original ocs
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Naud Bui Amarth
Note: Since I really like this story and I kinda hinted at it before, I’m gonna post it here... if you see other sites (quotev, ao3, and wattpad) with this same story under the name “katethedork”, that is, in fact, still me. I had kept them separate because of personal reasons, but I frankly don’t care anymore lol. Reblogs, hearts, comments, and any questions on this are welcome! (picture is what Cefrey looks like)
Summary: Bound by Fate. Cefrey Stormwind. Cefrey the Green. She was known by many names, but none truly told of who she was. Cefrey was gifted, yes, in the ways of magic. Different than the wizards, and not as strong, her magic still helped her and her friends on many occasions. Her friends... a ragtag group of nine unlikely fellows all there to aid a small hobbit on his quest. Their fate, unknown, and yet... there was one thing she was sure about. This feeling that engulfed her whenever she was near him. He had to have felt it too. Right?
Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader
Word Count: 4,113
Part One (Part Two : Part Three : Part Four ; Part Five)
The path ahead will be a perilous one. Filled with danger, betrayal, hurt. But you must always remember that lifelong friendships are made when one's life is at stake. Even the occasional romance can be bloomed in the darkest of times.
Fate is a fickle thing. It can be rewritten by the people it tries to ensnare, but it will always be there. Bringing people together, tearing them apart. Forcing an innocent mind to be corrupted, and the strongest of hearts to be broken.
Most do not understand fate. Not their own, not others, not the world’s. And yet they always try to. They try to hold onto the fact that their life is in their own hands. When in reality it is in their minds that their true power over fate lies. It is not something physical that can be tied down. It is a mirage in the desert. An illusion cast by a magician. You can see it. But never truly grasp it. A fact many try to ignore
Why is it then, that you believe in what fate has in store for you, that you merely follow where it takes you without a second thought?
Cefrey Stormwind. Cefrey the Green. Cefrey.
You may be able to control the chaos, the wild, around you. But fate, the very thing you truly have faith in, will forever connect you to the one you believe you cannot have.
~~~
The forest sang with each gale of wind that brushed past the many green leaves and branches of each tree. The birds and little forest creatures joined in harmony, adding to the orchestra of the wild. This beautiful area of nature was home to all sorts of living beings. All with their own sense of self and purpose. It was truly a wonder to behold.
Not only were the speaking creatures in this forest, but also the mute ones, their colors vibrant against the many shades of green around them. Purples and blues and oranges, along with greens of every variation, could be seen in this part of the woods, including one made of fabric instead of vegetation. The blonde girl, with her bright green eyes that seemed to change with each passing moment, twirled through the open patch of the forest, a wide smile on her face as she listened to the sounds around her.
With a light bounce in her step, Cefrey walked across the flower-filled field, breathing in the warm air as the sun rose to its peak. Her green dress swirled behind her, flowers and grass brushing against it. In her hand rested a small wicker basket, filled to the brim with herbs and flowers she picked along the way. Curled dark blonde hair pinned to the side with a simple broach kept it out of her face. Cefrey hated to cut her hair but also hated it when it got in her face. A small dilemma, to be sure, but one that was fixed quite easily.
She seemed entirely carefree in this state, even when darkness loomed on the horizon. Some would say it was foolish to be that optimistic, others would envy her ability to see the light wherever she could. But both would be wrong in their assumptions. Cefrey was quite aware of the doom that seeped into each and every crack and crevice of this world. She knew that it was coming and it was coming fast. And yet she believed to live in the present. To enjoy life’s greatest -- and albeit smallest -- pleasures.
If only it could last just a bit longer.
A low hum sounded through the air, stopping the girl from her waltz through the greens. She sighed heavily, knowing full well that it wouldn’t do her any good to ignore the call of a friend. It was a good thing the best herbs for her project were found near Hobbiton, else Cefrey would be feeling a lot more anger towards the old wizard.
After pinpointing exactly where the call came from, the blonde made her way towards a small hobbit hole with a green-painted door. Gandalf had better have a good reason for calling her towards the small village. He knew how much she hated being around people. They always asked her questions. Too many questions. Cefrey knew they meant no harm but the constant poking and prodding at her could get rather tiring.
She brushed her hair out of her face as she reached the entrance to the many small homes built in the sides of hills, the sun slowly setting across the horizon. If the people who lived there weren’t so curious and frankly rude, she would actually enjoy going there every once in a while. Unfortunately, hobbits were curious. Especially when it came to someone new and potentially dangerous. They needed to loosen up a bit, in her opinion. Not to say all hobbits were impolite. Just most.
Ignoring the judgmental stares from the many halflings both outside and inside their homes, Cefrey carried on her way, the small basket in her hand swinging from side to side with each step. Cefrey the Green, was what most called her. Though she was no wizard by any means of the imagination. No, wizards needed a physical object for their power, usually a staff. Cefrey, on the other hand, had no need for such an object. Instead, the magic was a part of her. It dwelled inside her, boiling over if she couldn’t control it. It took her many years to maintain the worst of it, with the help of a certain gray wizard. That was one of the reasons some assumed she was a wizard; she could be seen with Gandalf the Gray more often than with any other person. People thought she was his apprentice of sorts, but in reality, he was merely a mentor, and a friend.
The low humming grew louder as she walked up the small hill towards the round green door. She raised her free hand and knocked twice on the pained wood, the sound finally stopped once she hit the door. Cefrey heard soft footfalls walk through the tunnels until they reached the door and swung it open. Before her stood a short fellow, probably a few inches under four feet. His curly, dark brown hair reached just above her waist, and his face was quite young looking with bright blue eyes, but knowing how hobbits aged slower than men, the blonde knew he was much older than he seemed. He was wearing traveling clothes along with a walking stick. Strange, she thought, hobbits weren't known for traveling. Well, all except one, she supposed.
The hobbit stared at her wide-eyed, perhaps he had never seen a human lady, or perhaps he merely hadn’t expected her. Before he could say anything, a familiar face popped up behind him. Weathered skin framed by a long white beard and a floppy gray hat was a face Cefrey could never forget.
“Gandalf! You old coot, you called me all the way here and didn't have the decency to open the door yourself?” She teased the old wizard while shaking her head, a small smile on her freckled face.
The wizard chuckled at his friend’s banter and told the hobbit to let her inside. “Now, now, Cefrey, no need to be rude in front of your host.”
She looked back to the hobbit next to her and smiled down at him. “You must be Frodo Baggins. I never got the pleasure of meeting you, but your uncle and I go way back.”
“You knew my uncle?” The shocked look on Frodo’s face was quite adorable.
“Of course! I’m not even surprised he hadn’t told you about me.” She bowed deeply, almost theatrically before introducing herself. “I am Cefrey. Some know me as Cefrey the Green, but there’s no need to use that old title.”
Frodo nodded his head, happy to have met another of Bilbo’s old friends. Gandalf cleared his throat from beside them and gestured for them to sit at the table. The blonde set her basket down and clasped her hands in front of her.
“So, my dear friend, why is it that you called me here?”
The wizard’s usually warm countenance soured to one of distaste. “I am afraid it is not for simple pleasantries, dear. No, in fact, there are some pressing matters we must attend to.” He tilted his head towards the golden ring on the table and a dark foreboding feeling fell over Cefrey. She knew exactly what that ring was.
“Ah… I see. Pressing matters indeed…” She trailed off, waiting for Gandalf to continue.
“I must travel away for a brief time, but I do not wish Frodo to be alone during his journey.”
Frodo furrowed his brows. “You mean you won't be going with me?”
Gandalf shook his head, a deep frown beneath his beard. “No, Frodo, I cannot. However, I believe Cefrey here can keep you safe while I am away.” He looked at the blonde. “If that is something you will agree to, of course.”
Cefrey took a deep breath, mulling over what her friend asked her. She knew Gandalf would never ask her if it wasn’t truly important. And judging by the object they would be carrying, this task was incredibly vital.
But before she could give her friend an answer, Gandalf stood quickly and ran over to the windows grabbing his staff on the way. The blonde turned to see what the old wizard was up to and saw the flowers outside the window rustling. She laughed quietly to herself as Gandalf hauled an unfortunate young hobbit up onto the table, a harsh glint in the wizard’s eyes.
“Confound it all! Samwise Gamgee, have you been eavesdropping?” The anger in his voice was loud and clear and yet Cefrey merely smiled at the confrontation. He always did get ahead of himself.
The hobbit put his hands in front of him in surrender and apologised to the wizard. Cefrey leaned back in her chair and watched the scene in front of her, clearly amused. Gandalf, being the resourceful man he was, enlisted the young Sam to be another one of Frodo’s companions. He then turned back to you and awaited your response to his previous proposition.
She shrugged her shoulders and stood up, eyeing the two hobbits, then the wizard. “To Bree? That’s not too far. And I have some business there anyway. Some company on a journey has never hurt anyone, right?” Trying to lighten the mood, she smiled at the halflings, though they all knew the trek to Bree would not be as carefree as Cefrey made it out to be.
Gandalf let out a relieved sigh at her words, knowing the two hobbits would be much safer with Cefrey. “Thank you, my friend. I would never ask anything of you that you did not agree to.”
“I know, Gandalf. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I can take care of these two.”
.
Not so far away, a cloaked rider dashed across the green plains. A sword strapped to his back and many other objects tied to the saddle of the horse he sat upon. The wind whipped past him, allowing a glimpse of dark hair and gray eyes to be seen. This rider felt something within him grow as he grew closer to his destination. He knew not what it was inside him, but he also knew that feelings such as that should be kept under close scrutiny.
The horse galloped on the soft ground, her breath heaving after each step. Her strong muscles kept the rider atop her back from falling off and made it so he was able to stay on the road for long periods of time. Light brown hair clashed horribly with the dark cloth the rider donned. But without the many layers of black clothing, he would be spotted straight away. Hiding in plain sight was one of his strong suits.
Seeing the sun sink lower into the clouds, the rider spotted a nice area to camp for the night. Making a quick fire and giving his horse a much needed bucket of water and a few apples, the man took off his hood, revealing more of his rugged features. Long, dark hair hung to his shoulders, seeming dirty and unkempt along with the messy stubble along his jaw. Dark gray eyes peered knowingly at his surroundings. The way his jaw was set and the way his eyes flicked towards each and every shadow showed just how well versed this rider was in surviving the wilderness.
A sharp pang made its way to his heart and he grimaced at the feeling. Something was causing this to happen to him, something he couldn’t see. The man knew from years of experience that this was no normal pain. He couldn’t even say if it was magical. It felt as if something was pulling at him. Pulling him towards something. What that thing was, he did now know. The most he could say was that it was different. Different than anything he had encountered before. However, because of this, he could do nothing to stop it.
Thankfully, after a few minutes of rest, the pain faded until it was gone again. Though the rider knew that it was not gone for good. There was something about the way it made him feel that told him it would keep coming back.
He sighed and looked at the setting sun. He watched the myriad of colors in the sky as they reflected on the clouds and the trees. Something was brewing in Middle Earth. And even though he knew not what it was, Aragorn knew he was a part of it.
.
Gandalf led the trio into the woods where he departed from them, saying his business brought him elsewhere, to the head of his Order, but he would meet with them at the Prancing Pony. They said their goodbyes and Cefrey nodded in understanding to the old wizard. She swore she would keep the hobbits safe on their journey to Bree, and keep them safe she would.
Frodo and Sam noticed that the green dressed girl did not carry any bags with her. The only thing she put on was a short brown cloak with a hood. They didn’t even see where she got it from. Frodo thought Cefrey was incredibly interesting and that she must have had plenty of thrilling stories to tell, especially if she was friends with his uncle. Sam, on the other hand, refused to take an eye off the strange woman. There was something about her that made him skeptical of her allegiance. He had heard of the tales the other hobbits told of her. Cefrey the Green, just as much of a trouble maker as Gandalf, though twice as strange.
Cefrey took the lead of the group and walked through the forest and fields as if she had lived in them her whole life. Sam called out to her, he had to know at least one thing, “So, Miss Cefrey, are you like Gandalf?”
The blonde chuckled at the hobbit’s inquiry. “Quite a broad question, Samwise.” She leaped over a large boulder effortlessly, her hair, tied in a loose bun, flopped behind her. “In some ways, I am very similar to dear old Gandalf. In others, I am almost the exact opposite. Which way are you referring to?”
Not entirely expecting that kind of answer, Sam flushed slightly before responding. “Well, I suppose what I mean to ask is whether you’re a wizard or not. I mean, people call you Cefrey the Green, and Gandalf is Gandalf the Gray, so…”
“So you assume that since I wear green and have a title like Gandalf’s I must be a wizard?” She continued walking while contemplating the hobbit’s question. “To answer that, Samwise, I must say that I am not a wizard. No, wizards have staffs and pointy hats. I have neither.” Before Sam could interject, Cefrey continued. “However, some call me a mage or a sorceress, but that does not mean I cannot use magic like dear old Gandalf. It merely works differently than the five old wizards’ does. Their magic is channeled through themselves and their staff. Mine is just a part of me. It flows through me just as my blood does. And that allows me to do this!” With a quick snap of her fingers, a small burst of light and thunder showered in front of the hobbit for a split second before disappearing completely.
She laughed loudly at the expression worn on Sam’s face; pure shock mixed with a bit of fear. Frodo was surprised for a bit as well but soon joined in with her laughter. While Sam just stood there for a moment before shooting a small glare at the blonde.
“That was entirely uncalled for, Miss Cefrey!”
She stopped laughing and apologised to the halfling. “Sorry, Samwise, but you did ask if I was a wizard, I just demonstrated that I wasn’t.”
The next few hours of their trek consisted of Frodo and Sam asking Cefrey many questions. She obliged them albeit reluctantly since that was one of her biggest pet peeves, people asking her unnecessary questions. However, these two hobbits seemed a lot nicer than most folks she met, so she wasn’t as annoyed as she would have been normally.
During their walk through the woods and fields and streams, Cefrey began to feel a hard pain in her chest. It was strange. She didn’t fall and hit herself on a rock, she never touched any poisonous plants, and yet this pain just deepened the more she walked on. Like some unknown force was taking her heart and squeezing it. She made no indication to her companions that she was hurting, she managed to hide it quite well in fact, but it still made her face twist in pain.
Thankfully, after a few moments, the pain receded and went away as if it was never there. Curious and slightly frustrated that she could not figure out what it was, Cefrey ignored the odd pain and stored it in the back of her mind to think about later. At least, that was what she tried to do before she was rudely shoved to the ground by two sprinting halflings.
One stood up and got a good look at the trio before a wide smile went across his face. “Frodo! Merry, it’s Frodo Baggins!”
The other hobbit eyed the one in question and also smiled. “Hello, Frodo.” He turned to face the sorceress and his smile never left. “And hello to you too, lady!”
Cefrey nodded her head to the two troublesome hobbits. She saw the many vegetables laying around them and shook her head. Her theory that they had stolen said crops was proven as a loud and angry voice boomed through the cornfield and a scythe was seen waving over the tall stalks.
Without another word, the duo ran away with their arms still full of stolen goods as barking was heard closing in on their position. The blonde shook her head at the sight but ran after them nonetheless. The four halflings fell on top of one another while Cefrey landed gracefully on her feet on the dirt road, not a single drop of dirt on her simple green gown. The road…
Fearing the worst and having it accompanied by the shrill shriek of the very thing she dreaded, Cefrey called out to her companions and the newly added ones, “Get off the road!”
Grabbing onto Sam as he was arguing with the other two hobbits over a pile of mushrooms, she hurriedly hid him and herself under a large root beside the road. She hushed them all and tried to quiet her own breathing. She would have normally put a protective barrier around them, but knowing what was chasing them, she knew it would only draw its attention even more.
A darkness fell over the mage, making it hard to breathe, to see, to keep her power at bay. No! She shook off the feeling of helplessness, of despair, and strengthened her resolve. She would not have this, this thing overtake her and destroy years of patience that allowed her to control herself and the power within her. She breathed slowly, feeling her control come back and her calm to take over. The darkness receded to the corners of her vision, but it was still there. Why…
With a sharp turn of her head, she glanced at Frodo beside her and her eyes widened at the sight. He was struggling to breathe, to maintain control of his body. Cefrey quickly grabbed his hands in hers and muttered a quiet incantation under her breath, bringing the light back to them.
Thankfully, one of the hobbits threw a mushroom across the road, causing the creature to whip its head around and follow the new sound. The darkness finally left and Frodo regained himself, his breathing returning to normal. Cefrey let out a sigh of relief and stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress and helping the other hobbits to their feet.
She granted them a very short respite before glancing around, looking for any sign of the creature. The woods seemed to close in around her and the mage ushered the halflings to keep going. “Come on, we have to continue moving.”
The urgency in her voice and the fearsome ordeal they went through with the black rider was enough to get the four of them moving as fast as they could. Cefrey led them through the woods, a couple of feet ahead of the others, her eyes switching between the trees, making sure they didn’t run into the rider again. She barely heard the hobbits speak to one another, her mind still racing until it was yet again consumed by the overbearing blackness.
She breathed in sharply, “Get down!”
The loud shriek of the black rider tore through the forest, almost deafening the group of five. It reared its horse above them, looking, searching for them. For the ring. Frodo told his cousins in a hushed tone that he and Sam had to leave, they had to get out of the Shire.
Merry nodded his head, an idea coming to mind. “Right… Buckleberry Ferry… Follow me!”
The five stood up and quickly started running through the trees, avoiding branches and rocks along the way. Cefrey took the rear, wanting to keep an eye on the four halflings but also not knowing the way to this Ferry. Her strides were longer, but she managed to slow down enough to make sure they stayed in front of her and in her line of sight. Without warning, another rider burst through the trees in front of them, giving yet another high pitched wail from under its hood. Three of the hobbits ran past it towards the river while Frodo got trapped weaving in and out of the pitch-black horse.
The mage grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to the ferry, not giving a second glance to the many riders behind them. She saw the ferry begin to move away from the dock and pushed the young ring bearer ahead of her while she stood her ground. Frodo continued running as Cefrey put her hands in front of her, a deep look of concentration on her pale face.
Time seemed to slow around her, the riders’ steeds whinnied at the girl before them as the hobbits yelled at her and Frodo to get on the raft. A sudden bright flash of light erupted from Cefrey’s outstretched hands, blinding the riders and giving her and Frodo enough time to jump onto the ferry. She collapsed onto the small wooden boat, exhausted and frankly frightened at the determination the riders showed. This ring was more powerful than she originally believed.
The four hobbits stood over her tired form, some parts of them in awe at what they just witnessed, other parts in deep worry at the sight of her seemingly sickened body. Frodo shooed them away and told Merry to get them to Bree as fast as possible. He knelt beside his companion and held her hand, squeezing it gently.
“You can rest now, Cefrey. We’ll wake you once we get to the next crossing.”
She smiled tiredly at the young halfling, his kindness, and compassion a trait to be envied. With an almost nonexistent nod of her head, the sorceress slowly drifted into sleep.
#lord of the rings#aragorn x reader#aragorn x oc#original female character#aragorn#aragorn love story#fluff#part one#kate writes
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