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thewulf · 29 days

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I Choose You || Legolas

Summary: Request - Hii hope you're having a good day, is it okay if I request a Legolas x reader where reader is Gandalf's granddaughter and joined the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring? They both slowly fell in love with each other along the way and when the incident in Moria happened where Gandalf dies, Legolas comforts her.

A/N: Thank you for the amazing request! Had a blast writing this as usual :) It's a lil long, so enjoy!

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.5k +

TW: Talks of war/death, war, death, orcs, general LOTR triggers

You stand silently amidst the gathered council fading into the background as best you could. The murmur of many voices echoing softly through the vaulted halls of Rivendell. The air is crisp, filled with the mingling scents of ancient scrolls and the distant freshness of autumnal leaves. Elves, men, dwarves, and even a few hobbits have come to discuss the fate of Middle-earth, their faces marked by concern and resolve.

Your grandfather, Gandalf the Grey, stands at the center of it all. His presence both commanding and comforting. You’ve always admired his wisdom and strength and today, more than ever, you feel the weight of your lineage. You are his granddaughter, gifted with a touch of his magical prowess and a deep love for the mysteries of this world.

As the debate swirls around you, Elrond, the lord of Rivendell calls for silence. His gaze settles on the small golden ring laid upon the pedestal. It’s simple form belying its terrible power. The task is clear though the path is fraught with peril: the ring must be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. "We must form a fellowship," Elrond declares. His voice resonant and clear. "Those who will take this burden upon themselves and walk into the shadow to see this evil undone."

A hush falls over the council. Eyes turn, some in fear, others in anticipation, seeking those who might step forward. This is the moment you’ve prepared for, not just since you arrived in Rivendell but throughout your life under Gandalf’s tutelage. With a breath that steadies your resolve you step forward. The rustle of your cloak is like a whisper against the stone floor and several members of the council turn in surprise as you move into the circle of light cast by the morning sun through the high windows.

"I will go," you say, your voice firm and clear. "For the love of my grandfather and for the safety of middle earth. I will see this quest through to its end."

Murmurs of approval ripple through the room and Gandalf meets your eyes across the circle. There’s pride in his gaze and a touch of sorrow, knowing well the dangers that lie ahead. But in this moment you see also the unspoken bond between the two of you. An acknowledgment of the shared commitment to what is right, no matter the cost.

Legolas, a prince of the Woodland Realm, nods to you with respect clear in his bright eyes. Beside him, a stout figure grumbles under his breath, yet Gimli the Dwarf gives a curt nod of assent, recognizing your courage. Beside them a young hobbit named Frodo, who is to be the Ringbearer, looks on with wide, earnest eyes. It is for him, and for all who call this land home, that you pledge your strength. As the council disperses to prepare for the journey you stand beside Gandalf feeling the ancient power of Rivendell around you and the even older strength that lies within your own heart. This is just the beginning you know but you are ready. For the Fellowship, for middle earth, for Gandalf.

You will face whatever comes, together.

As the Fellowship journeys south from Rivendell the path grows increasingly treacherous, winding through craggy mountain passes and shadowed forests. The air is crisp and the first frost of winter sparkles on the leaves. Your companions walk close together. Each step a testament to the weight of the task ahead.

Aragorn leads with a steady hand, his ranger skills essential as the terrain becomes more challenging. Beside him, Boromir of Gondor often lends his strength. His booming voice echoing off the stone trying to keep spirits high among the group, especially the hobbits—Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin—who find amusement in the smallest wonders along the way. Like the frost patterns on the leaves or a particularly stubborn squirrel.

Legolas glides effortlessly beside you. His elven grace a stark contrast to Gimli who stumps along with a determined scowl, his axe ever at the ready. Despite the solemnity of your mission the elf and the dwarf have already begun what seems to be an endless competition, each trying to outdo the other in tracking skills, strength, and the telling of tall tales.

One balmy afternoon as the path narrows along the edges of a steep ravine the rivalry comes to a head between the two of them. Gimli insists he can clear a particularly large fallen tree with a single vault much to Legolas’s skepticism.

“Watch and learn, Master Elf,” Gimli grunts as he began to back up for a running start. Legolas watches with an arched eyebrow, clearly very amused by the red headed dwarf travelling beside him.

Just as Gimli begins to charge forward you step in placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps, Gimli, it would be wiser to assist each other over the obstacle rather than compete with others. After all, the road ahead promises ample challenge for both of your strengths.” You smile warmly down at the ambitious dwarf set out to prove himself.

Gimli stops mid-stride puffing out his chest a bit as he turns to you, then to Legolas. “Hmm, perhaps you are right, lass. What say you, Legolas? Shall we make this journey a test of our cooperation rather than our competition?”

Legolas’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes sparkling with a newfound respect. “I believe our companion speaks wisely. Let us proceed together.” He offers his hand to Gimli who looks at it for a moment before shaking it heartily.

As the journey continues you find yourself often mediating and bringing lightness to tense moments. One evening as the Fellowship gathered around the campfire you recount a humorous anecdote from your days studying under your grandfather. Making sure to mimic Gandalf’s stern voice and dramatic gestures. The group erupts into laughter, the sound carrying through the trees and lifting the spirits of all including the hobbits who clap delightedly and ask for more stories.

Aragorn, sitting across from you nods appreciatively. His eyes meeting yours with a silent thank-you for the lightness you bring. Boromir chuckles, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes clearly more at ease. “You have the gift of your grandfather. Not only in magic but in spirit.” Aragorn comments, his voice warm in the chill air.

Legolas who was sitting beside you leans closer and speaks softly, “Your wisdom brings much-needed peace. And your humor is a light in dark times. It is a rare gift.”

You meet his gaze. The firelight cast dancing shadows across his features. All elves were beautiful but there was something about the Price of Mirkwood that drew you in. “We all carry our gifts, Legolas. Yours is your unerring optimism and sharp eye. Gimli’s his steadfastness and heart. Boromir’s his valor. Aragorn’s his leadership. And the hobbits’ their enduring cheer. Together we are stronger than each individual.”

As the nights grow longer and the path more daunting the bonds within the Fellowship deepen, fortified by shared challenges and your quiet efforts to understand, and support each other. In the quiet moments Legolas teaches you Elvish songs of old. And Gimli shares tales of the great Dwarven halls, their voices blending into the night creating a tapestry of friendship and hope.

As the Fellowship delves into the ancient depths of Moria the air grows thick with the mustiness of ages and the weight of stone. The walls echo with the memory of Dwarven voices, now silent. The path is lit only by the faint glow of Gandalf’s staff. Gimli moves with a mix of reverence and sorrow. His eyes reflecting a deep familial connection to the lost realm of his kin. The narrow passages twist and turn leading you deeper into the mountain’s heart. The quiet is oppressive, only broken by the occasional drip of water or the scuffle of a boot on stone. Tension mounts with each step and even the normally unflappable Legolas seems taut, his eyes scanning the shadows.

All too suddenly, the dark stillness erupts into chaos. A low growl escalates into a deafening roar as the Balrog, a creature of fire and shadow, reveals itself. The ground trembles beneath its weight and the air sears with heat. Gandalf steps forward his face set with grim determination. “Lead them on, Aragorn,” he commands. “The bridge is near. Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!” Your grandfather cries as he gives you a sharp look. Obey. You must listen to him now.

The Fellowship rushes forward driven by fear and the urgent need to escape, but you hesitate, your heart torn as Gandalf faces the monster alone. As the others cross the bridge of Khazad-dûm you watch, helpless, as Gandalf confronts the Balrog. His staff was raised, a brilliant light flaring to meet the darkness.

“You cannot pass,” Gandalf declares. His voice echoing powerfully. It sends a shutter down even your spine.

The Balrog advances and with a defiant cry Gandalf strikes the bridge with his staff. It crumbles sending the creature plummeting into the abyss. But the Balrog’s fiery whip lashes out, catching Gandalf’s leg, pulling him towards the edge. With a calm but utterly sad glance back at you, he murmurs, “Fly, you fools,” before falling into the darkness below.

Shock paralyzes you momentarily, tears blurring your vision. The others tug at you, pulling you away from the crumbling edge. As you flee Moria the loss of your beloved grandfather hits you. A deep ache that seems to echo through the empty halls. Outside, under the grey, mourning sky, the Fellowship collapses in a clearing. Each member grappling with grief. Your knees give out and you sink to the ground, overwhelmed by sorrow. Legolas is at your side in an instant, his presence a silent solace. He does not speak, but his hand finds yours, squeezing gently. A clear reminder that you are not alone.

Gimli joins you. His own eyes rimmed red. “He was the greatest of us all,” he says gruffly with his voice thick with emotion. “I am honored to have walked beside him and I vow to you, we will see this quest through. For him and for all our sakes.”

The words are a balm to your spirit even as you could not reply. Words were too hard for you now. You lean into Legolas, his strength supporting you. You mourn the loss of the only thing you knew. Legolas and Gimli by your side reminding you that even in the depths of loss, the bonds of friendship and love hold firm.

You manage to whisper a weak "Thank you," before the sorrow overwhelms you once more. Tears flood your cheeks, each one a memory, a moment shared with Gandalf that you'll never experience again. Overcome, you turn into Legolas's side, seeking the comfort that only close, physical presence can provide. Though he was not typically fond of physical touch he does not hesitate to comfort you. He wraps his arms around you, his embrace firm and unwavering. In this moment your need transcends his usual reservations, and he holds you close. A silent sentinel in your hour of vulnerability.

His hands are steady on your back, one arm around your shoulders, the other at your waist, grounding you as your grief spills forth unchecked. Legolas's heart aches for your loss and though he may not express his emotions openly his actions speak a clear language of care and adoration. As you cry into his side, Legolas rests his chin atop your head. His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon where the last light of day gives way to twilight. He feels the weight of your sorrow as if it were his own, yet he knows he must stand strong for you.

Legolas knows that the road ahead will be fraught with further trials but for now, he offers you all that he can—protection, comfort, and an unspoken promise that no matter what lies ahead, you will not face it alone. In the stillness that wraps around you and Legolas there's a respectful pause from the rest of the Fellowship. They were giving you a moment to collect yourself under the cloak of Legolas's support. Aragorn, ever attentive to the needs of his comrades, notices the depth of your grief and the comfort Legolas provides. He understands the significance of this moment, the necessity of mourning and the importance of support in such times.

Standing a short distance away Aragorn speaks quietly with the hobbits making sure everyone is ready to continue but delaying their departure ever so slightly for your sake. His leadership is subtle. His decisions shaped by a deep understanding of his people's emotional and physical stamina.

After a brief moment, Aragorn looks over, his eyes meeting Legolas’s over your bowed head. There’s a silent communication between them. A leader’s acknowledgement and a friend’s gratitude for the support given to one of their own. Aragorn’s face softens, his respect for whatever was forming between you two clear in his gentle nod.

With a deep breath, signaling both readiness and respect, Aragorn approaches. His voice is soft yet carries a necessary urgency as he speaks. His words meant to soothe but also to remind of the path ahead. “We must move on for night will not wait for us and neither will our enemies,” he spoke with his tone conveying both compassion and resolve. “Take the time you need but remember we must not linger long.”

Legolas gently helps you stand straighter his arms still offering support. As you wipe away the last of your tears, strengthened by the comfort you’ve received, you nod in understanding. Legolas gives you a reassuring look. His eyes promising continued support and then he gently releases you. He was ready to stand by your side as you all prepare to resume the journey. With a final glance at Gandalf’s last stand you and the Fellowship gather your gear and set off once more into the fading light. The memory of Gandalf a guiding light that pushes you forward through the darkness.

Emerging into the sunlight of the world again does little to lift the sorrow of the Fellowship which soon deepens with Boromir’s tragic fall at Amon Hen. His valiant defense of Merry and Pippin against the Uruk-hai, though ultimately costing him his life, marked him forever a hero in the annals of your journey. The loss of such a stalwart companion leaves a void in your heart and within the group, casting a pall over your spirits.

Driven by a fierce determination to honor Boromir’s sacrifice, you, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli give chase across the plains of Rohan to rescue Merry and Pippin from their captors. The pursuit is grueling. Pushing each of you to your very limits. The landscape of Rohan is vast and relentless, but the tracks are clear, guiding you unerringly toward the thick fringes of Fangorn Forest. The hope of rescuing the hobbits fuels your weary bodies onward even as your hearts ache with the memory of Gandalf's fall and Boromir’s courageous end.

As you follow the trail into the shadowy depths of Fangorn a sense of ancient watchfulness grows. The forest feels alive, old beyond reckoning, and filled with secrets. It is here among the whispering trees that the unexpected happens. A figure steps out from the shadows garbed in white, his presence bright against the dark underbrush. The shock of seeing what you believe might be Saruman stops you in your tracks. But as the figure approaches the energy changes—the air around him shimmers with a familiar warmth and power. Not the cold malice of Saruman.

"Gandalf?" Legolas breathes. A note of awe mingling with disbelief.

You squint, hardly daring to believe it to be true. As he draws closer, clarity dawns, and recognition floods your senses. Overcome with emotion you shout, "Grandfather!" and sprint toward him. Your heart swelling with joy and relief.

Gandalf opens his arms wide, and you crash into his embrace. The impact strong yet comforting. "My dear child," he murmurs. His voice warm and welcoming as he wraps his arms around you. His cloak envelops you with a familiar scent of pipe-weed and the road clinging to the fabric grounding you in the reality of his return.

"Yes, it is I," Gandalf responds gently, now looking down at you with sparkling eyes, "but as Gandalf the White. I come back to you at the turn of the tide. Stronger and renewed. Just as our hope must now be."

The grief at Boromir’s death and the shock of Gandalf's return blend into a complex tapestry of emotions. The initial shock gives way to a festive air as relief and joy wash over Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. They join in, their earlier despair replaced by laughter and words of amazement, forming a tight circle around you and Gandalf.

As Gandalf explains his battle with the Balrog and his subsequent rebirth his words filling the gaps in your understanding and rekindling hope in your hearts. His return not only signifies a miraculous second chance but also invigorates the Fellowship with renewed purpose and determination. With Gandalf's guidance now as Gandalf the White you all feel a renewed sense of purpose. The path forward is still fraught with danger but with Gandalf returned, and in memory of Boromir’s bravery, you are reminded that even in the darkest times there can be resurrection and hope. Together you prepare to resume the quest, stronger and more determined than ever.

"Your guidance has been sorely missed, Gandalf," Aragorn says. His voice steady but thick with emotion as he joins you. He captures the mood of the moment, channeling the Fellowship’s relief into focus. "What should we do? Frodo and Sam are gone to Mordor. Merry and Pippin are captives of the enemy." Gandalf releases you from the embrace but keeps one hand on your shoulder, grounding, and comforting. He surveys the small group with a decisive gaze and the air around you seems to thrum with renewed energy and urgency.

"We will split our efforts," he declares. "Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and you," he nods at you, "will pursue the orcs who took Merry and Pippin. Every second counts and your skills will be crucial in navigating this perilous chase."

You try and protest, but he shakes his head continuing along. "Meanwhile, I shall seek aid from the Ents of Fangorn," Gandalf continues, turning to look at the dense woods behind him. "Their strength will be necessary in the wars to come. We must rally all allies for the shadow from the East grows ever bolder."

As plans are made Legolas stands close by your side, his presence a silent vow of protection and partnership. You feel his hand briefly squeeze yours. A gesture of support that sends a surge of warmth through your heart that he had done so many times before.

"You have grown much, under shadow and trial," Gandalf remarks. Looking at you with a blend of pride and affection With the reunion drawing to a close and the path forward set you all prepare to leave. Gandalf’s return has not only brought back a beloved mentor and friend but has reignited the flame of hope within your heart. Together you feel ready to face the challenges that await knowing that the bonds of friendship and duty will guide you through the darkest of times.

As you traverse the expansive lands towards Rohan the camaraderie within the group deepens, each member adjusting to the rhythms of travel and the complexities of intertwined destinies. Amidst these dynamics your relationship with Legolas finds new ground. The elven prince, always serene and composed, begins to show a more attentive and tender side in his interactions with you. His glances linger longer and his conversations, once filled with tales of ancient elven lore, now often drift towards thoughts and dreams of the future, your future.

It’s during one of the long nights while camped under the vast, starlit sky near the borders of Fangorn Forest, that Gimli noticed the growing tension between you and Legolas. He decided to give you both some space. With a knowing wink and a gruff voice Gimli volunteers for the first watch, his tone unusually gentle. "I reckon the night is best shared with stars and heartfelt words, not an old dwarf's snoring."

Grateful, you share a smile with Legolas as Gimli settles a little distance away, his back to you, affording you a semblance of privacy. Legolas turns to you with his blue eyes reflecting the starlight, and for a moment he simply looks at you as if contemplating a thought long held in silence. "I have seen many wonders in my long life," he starts, his voice soft and mesmerizing under the night sky. "But none compared to the courage and kindness I've seen in you. In these trying times you have become a light guiding me."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you feel a warmth spread through you. "And you, Legolas, have been my solace. In you I find peace amidst turmoil. A joy that even the darkest shadows cannot diminish." He smiles. His gaze intensifying with affection and something more, something unspoken yet palpable between you. Then, in a move that surprises you both for its boldness and its intimacy, Legolas shifts closer and gently pulls you into his side. It's a daring gesture for an elf, particularly one as reserved as Legolas. But it feels right as if many paths had converged to bring this moment into being.

The warmth of his body against yours, the protective embrace of his arm—these are things you never expected to find so far from home. "It seems we have found comfort in one another's presence," he says softly. "Would that we might find a way to keep this light alive… no matter what lies ahead?"

"I would like that very much," you whisper as you leaned into the strength of his embrace.

The two of you sit under the blanket of night talking softly of dreams for a peaceful future and the immediate plans for the days to come. The reality of the quest remains but for now, under the stars, you both allow yourselves the luxury of imagining a life beyond the war. Both of you bound by a newfound affection that promises to grow with each passing day.

At Helm's Deep the air is thick with the tension of impending battle. The great fortress, built into the deep folds of the mountain, stands as the last bastion of hope against the relentless march of Saruman's forces. As the sky darkens and the torches flicker against the night you stand on the ramparts beside Legolas watching the sea of enemies gathering in the distance.

Legolas turns to you, his expression clouded with concern. “You should not be here,” he says softly. His voice barely above the howl of the wind. “This battle... it is not like the ones before. I fear—”

“I know,” you interrupt, understanding his fear but meeting his gaze with a resolve that mirrors the steel of the swords of your comrades below. “I know what this battle could mean for all of us. But I must stand with you, with all of you. There is no other place for me now, Legolas.”

Seeing the determination in your eyes, Legolas's expression softens and he pulls you gently against his side. It was a bold move for him, especially in such a public setting. “Then we will face it together,” he says squeezing your hand tightly as a silent promise passes between you.

The night deepens and the enemy’s drums beat a terrifying rhythm that seems to match the racing of your heart. Legolas pulls you closer. His eyes searching yours in the dim light. “No matter what happens tonight, know this,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the chaos swelling around you. “I love you. I have loved you amidst the shadows of our journey, and I will love you beyond the reaches of time.”

Your breath catches at his words. The simplicity and depth of his confession anchoring you amidst your fears. “And I love you,” you repl. Your voice strong even though you felt so weak. “Whatever may come, whatever we face… we face it together.”

As the battle commences the air fills with the clash of steel and the cries of warriors. You fight back-to-back, Legolas’s arrows finding their marks with deadly precision while you fend off attackers with sword and spell.

Gimli joins two of you, his axe a blur as he protects your flank. “Ha! I’d like to see them try to break this line!” he bellows. His voice a rumble of thunder over the din of battle.

The hours stretch. Each moment a lifetime but you fight with a clarity borne of love and the will to protect not just middle earth but the futures you hope to share. Legolas’s presence is a constant reassurance. His quick glances amidst the fray a reminder of everything worth fighting for.

As dawn breaks the tide of battle shifts. With Gandalf’s timely arrival and the charge of the Rohirrim, a new hope is rekindled. The enemy falters and breaks. Exhausted but alive, you, Legolas, and Gimli regroup, your bodies weary but spirits lifted by the victory, however costly it may have been.

Standing amidst the ruins of the battle you all share a look of relief and unspoken understanding. The war is far from over, but the strength of your bonds, the depth of your love, and the courage of your friends give you the fortitude to press on, to fight another day. With Legolas watch the sunrise, the light washing over Helm’s Deep painting the world in hues of gold and red. A daily rebirth, a reminder that after darkness there always comes a new dawn.

After the long shadow of war finally lifts with the destruction of the One Ring the world begins to breathe again. Minas Tirith stands gleaming under the bright sun, its banners waving in a joyous breeze. The streets are filled with music and laughter as people from all corners of middle earth gather to celebrate the victory. The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers brought forth by a spring that signifies not just the changing of seasons but the dawn of a new era.

You, Legolas, and Gimli stand on a balcony overlooking the jubilant city with a cup of fine wine in hand. The Fellowship has been honored by kings and lords, sung by minstrels, and cheered by crowds. But in this moment, the three of you share a quiet moment that speaks of deeper bonds forged in the fires of your shared trials.

Legolas looks out over the city, his eyes reflecting the green of the fields below. “The world is changed,” he says thoughtfully. “I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air. The darkness that once threatened to swallow us whole is now but a shadow of the past.”

Gimli nods. His eyes twinkling under his bushy brows. “Aye, and it’s time for more pleasant journeys,” he chuckles. “I promised you both a tour of the Glittering Caves, did I not? And I intend to keep that promise. You’ll find no finer sight beneath the mountains, mark my words!”

“And I,” Legolas adds turning to you with a gentle smile, “would have you both come to Mirkwood. The forests have suffered in the darkness. But they recover, much like us. There are places of such beauty and tranquility that they deserve to be witnessed with friends.”

You sip your wine, letting the rich flavors linger on your tongue as you consider the future. “And what of you?” Gimli asks, looking at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

“I think,” you say slowly, smiling at the possibilities that stretch before you, “that I would like to see more of this world that we have fought so hard to save. From the forests of Mirkwood to the caves of the mountains and perhaps even beyond. There’s so much to explore, so much to learn.”

“And so much to rebuild,” Legolas adds. “Wherever we go we carry with us the legacy of those who fought beside us. Those who fell, and those who lived to see this day. Gandalf’s wisdom, Aragorn’s courage, and even Frodo’s quiet determination—they remain with us, guiding us forward.”

Gimli raises his cup, and you and Legolas do the same. “To the future,” Gimli declares heartily.

“To peace,” Legolas adds, his voice warm.

“To friendship,” you conclude. The three of you clink your cups together, the sound crisp and clear.

As the celebration continues below you lean against the stone railing admiring the city sprawling at your feet. Around you the laughter and music rise to the starlit sky, and you feel a profound sense of contentment. The road ahead is uncharted, but you face it not as a lone wanderer but as part of a fellowship that has endured the darkest of times to see the brightest of days.

With Legolas and Gimli by your side you know that whatever adventures lie ahead, they will be filled with joy, discovery, and the unbreakable bonds of friendship. This is not the end of your story but the beginning of a new chapter, one that you will write together.

As the celebrations in Minas Tirith begin to quiet down into a gentle hum of merriment and the evening deepens, Gimli, with a knowing grin and a subtle nod towards Legolas excuses himself to “inspect the integrity of the ale supply,” leaving you two alone on the quieter side of the terrace that overlooks the city’s sprawling, illuminated gardens.

Legolas watches Gimli depart and then turns to you with a serene expression. His eyes reflecting the myriad lights of the city. He reaches into the folds of his tunic and pulls out a small, exquisitely carved wooden box. “I have something for you,” he says. His voice low and filled with a tender emotion that sends a thrill through your heart.

You watch, curious and expectant, as he opens the box to reveal a pendant. It’s a delicate piece, shaped like a leaf but crafted with such intricacy that each vein in the leaf is visible. It shimmered with a light that seems to emanate from within the silver itself.

“This is a leaf from the Mallorn trees of Lothlórien,” Legolas explains as he carefully lifts the pendant from the box. “Galadriel herself gave this to me before we departed and though I cherish it... I believe it was always meant for you.”

He steps closer. His presence so familiar and yet so heart-stirringly profound at this intimate moment. “In the elven tradition,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, “to give such a gift is to choose a companion. To offer a token of one’s heart and soul. I give this to you not out of obligation but from a free and willing heart. I choose you and it’s you I wish to be with through all the ages of this world.”

He pauses while holding the pendant up between you. His eyes searching yours for an answer, a confirmation of your feelings. You nod gently, overwhelmed by the emotion in his gaze and the significance of his gift.

Legolas smiles, a soft, joyous curve of his lips, and delicately clasps the pendant around your neck. His fingers brush lightly against your skin as he secures the clasp sending shivers down your spine. The metal feels warm as if charged with his affection and presence.

“I cannot promise that the road ahead will be free from hardship,” Legolas says softly while drawing you close so that your foreheads touch lightly, “but I can promise that you will never walk it alone. Where you go I will follow. And where I go I hope you will be by my side.”

“Legolas,” you whisper. Your voice thick with emotion. “There is no one else I would rather have by my side. No one else I would want to share my path with. I choose you, too, today, and always.”

Without hesitation Legolas leans in to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s gentle at first. A tender meeting that speaks of mutual respect and deep affection. But as you respond the kiss deepens, becoming a profound expression of your shared love and commitment.

The world around you—the city of Minas Tirith, the sounds of celebration—fades into a blissful quiet. In this moment wrapped in Legolas’s embrace, you realize that while the war might have brought you together it is love that will lead you into your future. Beneath the stars and above the glowing city you share a promise of a thousand sunrises to come. Each one a new day to explore and cherish the world together.

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crownedghostprince · 9 months

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That’s My Emotional Support Wife!

Legolas x Female!Accident Prone!Reader

Fandom: The Hobbit

Legolas and (Y/N) had courted for about a decade before finally deciding to marry. (Y/N) was the daughter of Lord Elrond, just slightly younger than Arwen, and after marriage she moved to Mirkwood to live with Legolas and her father-in-law the King, Thranduil. Legolas didn’t mind how accident prone (Y/N) was, sometimes it was even sort of cute. And now there are 13 dwarves in the cells of Mirkwood having to be dealt with whilst the Elves continue their parties, patrols and usual antics that the dwarves were unaware of until that day.

Requests: Closed. Requested: no.

Warning(s): None.

Note: This is sort of silly, so if you enjoy a fun fanfiction, this is the one to read! (Y/C) - stands for (Your Choice) and (Your Colour).

Word Count: 2,021

[Third Person Perspective]

(I couldn’t find any attached link to this picture from Pinterest, but it was under the account name “The Facegirl” when I found it. They seem cool from what I checked out.)

The dwarves were not happy to be locked up in the cells of Mirkwood under King Thranduil’s rule. The elves would just pass by here and there as if it was an ordinary path to take. These cells weren’t in dungeons or anything like you might expect, for the bars of the cells were incredibly tough and strong. Therefore, there was no need to put the cells in such an inconvenient spot and instead it was closer to the main area where most Wood Elves just wandered through. (This was also best as the Woodland Realm almost never had prisoners to jail).

So, the dwarves were trapped in their cells, waiting for Thorin to join them (hopefully with good news). They’d tried breaking out of the cell in whatever way they could think. From slamming against the bars with their shoulders, to kicking them with their legs and shaking them with their hands. But still the cell bars held strong. Bofur was the first to actually observe the elves, rather than sneer and ignore them like the others. The others didn’t wish to make eye-contact or even look in their general direction.

Bofur watched, as many elves walked through speaking elvish and looking graceful. Some elves were so graceful when they walked it looked almost as if they were floating across the floor, not even touching the ground. He struggled to tell who was male and who was female, but the sounds of their voices definitely helped - even if he couldn’t understand their language.

Eventually he saw a beautiful elf with (Y/C) hair and (Y/C) eyes. His? Her? Dress was a beautiful mixture of pink and purple that fell past their ankles and hid their feet. Thus, they appeared to be floating as they walked. Bofur smiled, appreciating how beautiful the elves could truly be. How graceful and--and she walked into a wall. This got the dwarves quietly chuckling from they cells.

Even Dwalin was hiding his snicker. They would laugh more openly, but they were in foul moods and didn’t want to anger the elves when the elves had an advantage against them. The elf maiden didn’t seem to mind - hearing their chuckles with her good hearing - and laughed with them. A shadow crossed the floor and Legolas landed with perfection as he came to check on his wife. The dwarves’ faces immediately molded into scowls at the sight of the rude elf that found them and cast them into their cells.

They continued to watch as Legolas checked his wife’s face for cuts and smiled when she was cleared to be okay. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and took her hand, walking her to the staircase to continue her on her path. She was not halfway up the staircase when she tripped and fell. Luckily, Legolas was used to this and simply caught her and gracefully carried her the rest of the way. He set her back down on the marble floors, kissed the back of her hand and returned to his position up high, watching over the area. She curtsied and although the dwarves could not hear - or understand it - she thanked him. “Ni ‘lassui en, Legolas.”

An hour later, Thorin joined his company in the cells. He simply explained how he had not taken any deal with King Thranduil and that all the Elves could...well...let’s not translate that now. The dwarves were upset by this news, feeling like they’d be trapped forever. But Thorin knew there was a Bilbo Baggins somewhere out there. And he would help free them. He was sure of it. Bilbo was not so sure. Every time he thought he had a clear path to descend to the cells, suddenly a bunch of elves walked by. He was thankful the ring he found made him invisible.

Some were going to patrol outside, some were laughing and telling jokes in Elvish, some were carrying wine and food, or decorations and others were reading a lovely looking book as they walked by. The thing is this: Bilbo didn’t have many openings to sneak past and not bump into someone. So instead he decided to follow them for a brief moment and saw them setting up a sort of party. With decorations and a clear view of the sky where Bilbo could see the tinges of orange and pink beginning to appear in the clouds.

There were tables lined with bottles of wine and kegs of wine and cups for the wine. There were a few tables of food, but mostly it was wine. With lots of seats, some elves already perched on the staircases and some elves sitting up high on ledges already getting drunk. Many were singing and some were possibly telling poems? Or stories? Bilbo wasn’t quite sure but it was a merry gathering that was forming.

‘Well,’ Bilbo decided to himself, ‘Time to find those dwarves.’ And so he walked back the way he came, sneaking down corridors of marble and past beautiful pillars with beautiful, intricate carvings running down them. Soon his eyes laid upon, a (Y/C) haired elf with a beautiful dress and stunning eyes. She was reading a book as she walked absentmindedly. He decided to follow her and see where he ended up.

They walked for almost half an hour when he heard the familiar, grumpy dwarves’ voices as they hushedly whispered to each other in Khuzdul. ‘Finally,’ Bilbo thought excitedly, ‘I’ve found them!’ He waited behind the she-elf, watching where she was headed. By the time he realized she was about to walk down a flight of stairs and possibly injure herself, a blond elf was by her side with an arm around her waist. Legolas was so accustomed to stopping his wife from falling down stairs it was almost a daily thing to catch her and gently lead her away.

“A, Legolas.” She smiled to her lover with such a soft gaze he felt sure to melt under it. Although the dwarves did not know it, ‘A’ was Elvish for ‘Hi’. However, they simply thought it was an exclamation like the English ‘Ah’ when one realizes they almost walked off the top step of a flight of stairs.

However, (Y/N) was so accident prone she was no longer surprised when someone stopped her from walking into a wall, or a door, or out a window and this case was no different. Bruises and cuts from falling down stairs was common for our silly she-elf lady. Legolas sighed fondly. “Hiril vuin, please do fall down the stairs before a most wonderful celebration.” ‘Hiril vuin’ was Elvish for ‘my lady’ and was a sweet and simple way for Legolas to remain caring, but serious, in front of the dwarvish prisoners.

Bofur spoke up with a chuckle from the cells below, “Is falling down the stairs a common occurrence? I would love to see such a performance everyday!” He joked. The dwarves laughed in agreement except for Oin who could barely hear what Bofur said.

“What did he say?” He asked Gloin who was in the cell beside him. His question went unanswered as Gloin continued to loudly laugh. Legolas glared down at the cells whilst (Y/N) simply laughed with the dwarves. She had a wonderful sense of humour - she has two older and fun twin brothers after all - and she was also used to these jokes which made it even more fun in her opinion!

Once the laughter had settled down a bit (Y/N) chuckled out, “I knew I should’ve been the King’s jester!” and the howls of laughter sprung back up again. Their thunderous voices bounced of the walls and echoed through the building. Even Legolas and Bilbo chuckled at (Y/N)’s joke. As the dwarves continued to laugh, crack jokes and sometimes just rest in silence, Legolas decided to simply ignore them and inquire about his wife’s current book. “Oh! It’s a book of Elvish poems and short love stories. I fell in love with it after reading the first couple of love poems. It even has some poems specifically to be read just before you sleep. Oh! I’ll find one of my favourites for you!”

She began to carefully flip back through the previously read pages, keeping her bookmark on her current page as she did so. Bilbo took this chance to quietly sneak past the couple and down the stairs to the cells in order to look for the keys. Legolas smiled adoringly as his wife quietly muttered the poem titles until she found the one she was looking for. Although the Elvish is truly beautiful and wonderful to read, here’s the English equivalent instead:

“ Your Divine Beauty,

The stars crown your head, As you rest peacefully in bed, And the moon bathes you in its’ light, Kissing you with all its’ might.

Such beauty even the sun bows down, So its’ colours may reflect onto your white gown. Pink, orange and gold, Dare not touch or enfold.

For they will not dare, To hide your beauty nor ensnare.”

Although Bilbo and the dwarves had no clue what she said as it was in Elvish, still they folded to the sound of her melodic voice when she read aloud her favourite poem. Legolas gently kissed her forehead when she was finished and sighed wistfully. “I adore that poem so much now.” He smiled down as their foreheads rested together.

“I’m glad you liked it, dear.” She grinned, returning his kiss with a giggle. Only a moment had passed when they heard approaching footsteps. Bilbo snuck back to a corner in case they should pass him and the dwarves returned to their original scowls as two Elven guards came to a stop in front of the couple. The woman curtsied to the guards and they returned with a bow.

“We’re sorry to interrupt, but the celebrations are beginning.” They explained, carefully watching Legolas’ eyes as he sighed.

“Very well. Then I shall not keep you any longer, my dear. Please, go enjoy yourself and do not wait up for me. I will join you shortly after I have finished my patrol over the cells.” Legolas kissed his wife’s hand with a tenderness and care you only hear and see in romance books.

“Thank-you, darling. I shall join them, but I shall still wait for you.” She grinned with a cheeky glint to her eyes.

“Why do I bother to tell you to not wait, you don’t listen anyway.” He chuckled sweetly. “Very well. Now go, before my father is disappointed with both of us being absent.”

“Ah, yes, I should hurry then. Take care, darling, and try not to roughen up the dwarves too much.” She kissed him once more before leaving with the guards to the celebrations. Legolas sighed wistfully once more and did not move until she was safe out of sight with the guards. He trusted them to catch her if she should fall.

But even if she is injured, they have healers that are always pre-prepared for her anyway. He turned back and before he could ascend back to his post, the dwarves spoke up.

“So she and you are...well...together, huh?”

“She’s my emotional support wife.” Legolas grinned mischievously, knowing fully well she could still hear them with her excellent Elvish hearing. A second later his ears heard her voice in the distance,

“I heard that!” And he smiled hearing her voice once more.

“You’ll do well to not disrespect her whilst you’re here.” Legolas stared the dwarves down as he finally returned to his post, just out of their line of sight above them. The dwarves rolled their eyes and proceeded to taunt him with funny comments anyway. All were harmless, but they were fishing for a reaction from Legolas so they did their best to make it sound almost like insults. He didn’t care enough to hear though, he was ignoring them and mentally reciting his wife’s favourite poem so when she was having a bad sick day he’d know it off by heart.

#the hobbit #thorin's company #x reader #legolas x reader #legolas #middle earth #fanfiction #accident prone reader

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middleearthpixie · 11 months

Note

Hello! ^^ Can you write a first time smut for Lindir x female elf reader? They both fell in love with each other and they take their time exploring each other's bodies. Super soft and gentle, from Lindir's perspective. Please!🙏 Thank you 💙

Hi there, Nonny! I'm sorry it took me so long, but here it is and I hope you enjoy it.

Moonlight

Summary: You and Lindir consummate your romance…

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Lindir x fem!elf reader

Warning: oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected intercourse

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.4k

***

A cool breeze wafted gently through the treetops, the rustle of the leafy canopies blending seamlessly with the chirp of crickets and the throaty growls of the frogs that called the various lakes and fountains home. The night sky looked spangled, the sparkling stars looking like diamonds that had been strewn about along a bed of inky black velvet.

Lindir cupped a hand about a thick white pillar candle, trying to shield it from the wind as he attempted to light it. It took several tries, but finally, the wick caught and held long enough for him to slip the glass cylinder over it to protect it from the wind. He set it on the low, white stone wall that ringed the small courtyard just off his chambers, where it joined nearly a dozen of its brethren, their small golden flames flickering every now and then, but their dance did not include bending to the wind or succumbing to it, thankfully.

His gut churned with a nervousness he’d not felt in what seemed like a lifetime. He could not recall the last time his stomach was in such knots, which was silly, really. You had been a couple for a while now, and saw one another on a daily basis. You’d shared a few kisses, but that was all.

Until this night.

He looked over at the large fleecy blanket spread out across the lush green grass. A bottle of wine chilled in an ice bucket to the side. Two goblets stood beside said bucket, just waiting to be filled. He’d set out the candles.

Now, he waited.

Then, he heard your steps on the grass and smiled even as his heart sped up. Even as his mouth went drier than it had ever been. Even as those knots instead became butterflies and without even seeing you yet, his blood seemed to rush warmer through his veins.

“Oh, how lovely.”

His heart skipped a beat as you came into the courtyard by way of the gate. The moonlight shone silver upon you and he knew he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as you were right then. “I thought the candles might be a bit too much. Are they?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

You crossed over to where he stood, stopping before him to smile. “I think they look lovely.”

“Good. I was a bit… nervous. I should hate to have to explain to Lord Elrond how and why I burned down the whole of Rivendell.”

“What would you tell him?”

He reached for you, catching your hand in his, and drew you into his arms. “I’d blame you.”

“He would never believe it.”

“Never say never. I can be quite convincing when need be.”

You gazed up at him. “I’m a bit nervous, I confess.”

“You needn’t be,” he assured you. “But, if you’d rather not tonight, we can always—”

“No, I didn't say that,” you were quick to reply. “I am just being silly.”

“Would it help if I was to ask for your hand first?” A hint of teasing wound into his smooth, low voice. “That way you’d know I am not going to disappear on you come sunrise.”

“Lindir! What a thing to say. Do you think that is what I’m thinking?”

“I hope not. But, just in case. Will you marry me?”

“You know the answer is yes.”

“Very well. Now you have no reason to fear, my darling. You have said yes and you are not forever stuck with me.”

“Oh, no,” you replied dryly, trying, but failing, to look utterly serious, “I have made a terrible mistake.”

“Liar.” He leaned in to sweep your lips with his. He’d meant it to be but a gentle, innocent kiss, but the moment he felt your soft lips against his, he had no choice but to press his a bit harder to yours.

You melted against him, parting your lips and he released a hand to slip his arm about your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your firm breasts pressed against his chest, heating his blood as it slowly changed course in his veins, tightening every fiber, every sinew and tendon, as he responded to just that pressure.

You wound your arms about his neck, welcoming the silken soft stroke of his tongue along yours. His kiss deepened, and when you traced your fingernails lightly along the back of his neck, he shivered against you and sighed heavily into your mouth.

He could resist temptation no longer, the hand he’d splayed across your back sliding down to curve against your backside. He cupped a cheek, pulled you firmly against him, and it was your turn to sigh as that telltale bulge of his erection ground into you to create an altogether new and delicious ache deep inside.

His hand slid up, the other one joining it at your shoulders, where his nimble fingers made quick work of the row of tiny buttons that trailed from the neckline of your gown almost to the small of your back. The fabric parted, the cool breeze skittering across your bare skin as he skimmed his hands outward and the material poured from you to pool at your feet.

You stood naked before him and he almost moaned aloud at the sight—at the high, proud breasts with their already-beading nipples, the curve of your waist and the slope of your hips. Just the sight of you was enough to make his blood scorch through his veins as it flowed south now, his manhood responding to give him away, should you lower your gaze.

But you didn’t. You held his and that served only to fire his lust further. Without shyness or hesitation, he let his gaze roam over you and smiled as he murmured, “You are so beautiful, my love.”

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and then you caught your bottom lip between your teeth when he reached out to cup your left breast. He was so gentle, his fingers dancing along the delicate skin, his thumb slipping lightly about your nipple, which tightened even further beneath his touch.

His fingers tightened about that breast, kneaded it gently, and then leaned in to sweep his lips down along your neck. You tilted your head to the side to allow easier access, and his kisses came softly hot against your increasingly sensitive skin. He punctuated each kiss with a teasing nip, and soothed that with a flick of his tongue.

His thumb slipped about your nipple again, then caught it between thumb and forefinger to roll until you gasped. It was amazing to see how tight it beaded beneath his touch, how you responded when he gave a gentle tug, and when he leaned over to take it in his mouth? You shoved a hand into his hair, twisted your fingers into the length, and gave a tug that sent a sharp zing across his scalp. But that only heightened his arousal for you, only made him want to explore you further, to see what else would make you pull his hair and arch hard against him.

He took his time, let his lips caress each delectable inch of you as slowly as he could, which was no easy feat, as the very sight of you, the scent of you, the feel of you—warm and soft—against him was enough to drive him mad with desire. But, he wanted you to feel that same fairy desire, wanted you to ache for him the way he did for you. This was not only your first time with him, but your first time ever, and he wanted it to be as magical for you as he could make it.

He caught you in his arms, maneuvered you onto the soft blanket, and came over you gently. His lips found yours, his kiss hot and teasing and slow and he fought back a sigh as your lips parted and he slid his tongue along yours again. You tasted of sweet strawberries and he took his time exploring your mouth, drawing your tongue back into his own to savor that heady sweetness for himself.

He swept his lips down over your chin, down the front of your neck, which bowed as he caressed the sensitive flesh. He continued down, moving slowly along you body, kissing his way along your creamy soft skin, burnished ivory in the candlelight, his lips smoking a path along the inner curve of the breast he’d been teasing. With each sigh that wafted to your lips, each hitch of your breath, he grew bolder. Your body fascinated him, so soft and curvy, and as he kissed his way down, he sank to his knees before you. A hint of wildflowers and musk floated up to tease his senses. Your scent. Yours and yours alone.

“My love,” he breathed, drawing back to gaze down at you, at the way your hair glinted in the moonlight, fanned out beneath you. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and sensual, your lips full and pouty from his kisses. “You have no idea how often I’ve envisioned this moment.”

“Do tell,” you whispered, your lashes fluttering against the pale expanse of your cheeks.

“I’ve dreamed of it. Of you. Lying just as you are now, bathed in silvery moonlight, a temptress amongst women.”

Heat crept into your cheeks even as you smiled. “You do have a golden tongue, my love, know you this?”

“I speak only the truth,” he whispered, letting his fingers trail lightly along the rise of your left breast. You sucked in a sharp breath, and he repeated the motion, smiling as he held your gaze even as he cupped your breast, slid his thumb harder about that aching bead, then worked down along the curve of your waist, over the rise of your hip. Each caress left you more languid than the one before it. Each one had you pressing your thighs together because the sensations offered up a hint of relief from the maddening tightness of arousal. You wanted to grab his hand, to guide it to that ache between your legs, but hesitated. What if he thought you wanton for aching to be touched there? What if he found you too brazen for wanting that arousal sated?

So, you bit down on your bottom lip as he continued his leisurely exploration of your body, as he moved slowly down along your thigh, over the back of it, to that sensitives patch just behind your knee. You couldn't help your sigh, which made him smile and switch direction, now skimming long the back of your calf. Up toward your backside. Over the rise of that cheek. Back down. You shivered against him, which spurred him on even further. As he drew closer to those curls at the apex of your thighs, he looked up and whispered, “I love you.”

You smiled, a hand curving against his cheek as you murmured back, “I love you, too.”

He winked then, and moved lower, his lips following in the path of his fingers—thigh, knee, calf—each kiss followed by a hot, teasing swirl of his tongue.

He moved over your thigh and you bit down harder on your lip now. You ached with wanting him, the achy tightness between your legs growing damper with each caress. Everything inside you hummed with the need for him to quench the fires he sparked to life.

Your soft mewl didn't pass unnoticed and it took every bit of will he had to keep moving slowly. He felt your dampness. The scent of your arousal grew stronger still, as if trying to guide him to where you wanted him to be.

He followed that guide, leaning in to graze your inner thigh with a teasing kiss. Your legs parted of their own and he almost signed at the heavy musky scent that filled his nose. Wildflowers. Honey. The most enticing of perfumes greeted him, welcomed him.

Lured him in.

He bent to you, his nose brushing the damp curls between your thighs. Fire swirled through him at the soft gasp that reached his ears when he slipped a fingertip into that wet heat. Slick. Hot. Enticing. He ached for a taste and so bent to you to slip the tip of his tongue into your folds, tracing along the curve of that satiny bead nestled within them. Your hand sank into his hair, spurring him on, encouraging him to caress you slowly, increasing the pressure against you as you sighed and moaned beneath him.

Your hips moved with him, and he responded by flicking the tip of his tongue over that silken pearl, and when you grew wetter still, he let his fingers slip through that slick, stroking toward your opening. You moaned softly again as he eased his finger inside you, teasing you, caressing you inside and out, as you quivered around him. You thrust your fingers into his hair once more, twisting even harder now, your hips rolling slowly toward him to meet each caress. He was in no hurry, savoring every moan that bubbled to your lips, every drop of arousal that clung to his tongue, and he knew you grew close to your release in the way you moved with him.

“Lindir…” Your breathless whisper rose into the gilded darkness. You trembled against him, your fingers twisting harder now, your breath rapid as you arched to meet each slow, teasing thrust of his tongue. He laved along that delicate pearl, gentle at first, but as you whispered “Yes…” he licked harder. Faster. He slipped his fingers into your slick, and when he found what he sought, he slid a finger inside you and smiled as you tightened around it. You sank against him as he continued his onslaught, stroking until he found that small swelling along your front wall and teased it as you pulsed around him.

“Lindir!” You shattered, your release as sweet as your arousal and he was relentless in his caresses as you throbbed around him, trembling and pleading with him to not stop. As if he would. Your cries of pleasure were the sweetest music to his ears and while he ached to find his own relief, he was in no hurry to end yours, either.

He slipped his finger free as you stilled against him and when you sank to your knees to meet his gaze, you whispered, “My turn,” and offered up a smile that turned his knees to jelly.

A hand pressed into his chest urged him onto his back on the soft blanket and he smiled as you straddled his hips and caught his hands in yours before pinning them to the blanket on either side of his head.

Your lips claimed his and as you deepened your kiss, you slid your hands free to catch his tunic by its hem. You shoved upwards, breaking the kiss only long enough to whisk it over his head and then, when you came flush against him, he couldn’t hold back his moan. Your breasts, with those rosy beaded nipples, pressed into his skin, made the ache twisting his insides even worse. Your heat beckoned him, his hips rising to meet it, the pressure offering a bit of relief, but not nearly enough.

His eyes closed as you moved down along him, trailing kisses over the smooth, warm skin his bared chest, and when you swirled your tongue along his left nipple, it was almost his undoing. He had no idea how sensitive his own were until then, and his entire body ached with the need to be inside yours, to feel that wet heat tight about him.

Your hair spilled across his chest, warm and silken, and he buried his hands in it, let the gossamer strands caress him as you did. His head spun from the slow, teasing kisses you rained down over his belly, to the waist of his trousers.

Then you looked up and smiled as you unfastened them. As you gripped them. As you tugged them down and he sprang free from them, hard and proud and begging for your attention.

Your name rose to his lips as you bent over and your lips closed about him. Your tongue moved slowly up from his base to his tip, your lips teased where your tongue did not, and when you gave a gentle pull…

He twisted his fingers in your hair as ever fiber in his body tensed, as the need for release tightened about him like a powerful fist, squeezing and pulsing with each stroke, with each teasing pull. White lights danced before him, and when you traced your fingernails along his sides? His moan rose like a mist into the air. His hips rose to meet each caress. The ache inside him grew stronger and more demanding and he had to force his eyes open as he gazed up at you. “Please… I need you…”

You pulled away, a look of utter satisfaction on your face as you whispered, “Need me for what?”

He smiled. “I think you know, love.”

He came up then, his lips seizing yours, his chest pressing into yours to urge you onto your back once more and as you obliged, your legs parted to let his hips settle between them.

You felt the silken steel of his erect member slip into your folds, slide along your aching, overly sensitive flesh, and you shivered beneath him as he moaned above you. You teetered on the precipice. There was no going back now.

He caught your lips in a lingering kiss and you felt the gentle probe as he positioned himself. You were so tight about him, the resistance greater than he’d thought it would be. He drew in a deep breath and thrust, and you cried out at the brief sting of his breeching you. Then he went still, and you whispered, “What is it?”

“I love you,” he whispered back, then began moving inside you, each thrust slow and controlled, and little by little, the stinging ebbed and only pleasure remained.

And what pleasure it was! It swelled within you both, fiery and hot and sweet, and with each thrust, that pleasure grew. It engulfed both of you, driving you both closer to the edge of madness.

Your heat fed his. His fed yours. He surged harder now, tensing as his climax took root. It began in the soles of his feet and worked its way up like a rolling wave of thunder, and all he saw was you, your eyes sparkling, your cheeks flushed. You were close. He felt it in the way you tightened about him, the way you pulled him deeper still and throbbed around him once more.

Everything inside him tightened. Twisted. Threatened to drive him insane as his climax bore down upon him. He couldn’t put it off, had no choice but to surrender to the inevitable as you squeezed him with a powerful rhythm and your fingernails dug into his chest. You tensed about him.

He twisted his fists into the blanket beneath you, arched hard, and climaxed with a blazing fury that had him moaning and shuddering above you, that had him going rigid from the force of spilling hard inside you and you eagerly accepted it, pulsing and throbbing around him. You clung to him, your fingernails digging deep into his back. Your surrender met his and as he sank against you, you wrapped him in your arms as if you would never let him go.

You fought for breath, as did he, and you held him as he trembled against you. Smoothing his hair away from his temple, you murmured, “I do love you.”

“Oh, I love you, too…”

“I think we should do this again.”

You smiled as he lifted his head to stare at you incredulously. “Already?”

“Well, perhaps we should wait a few minutes,” you amended. “At least my head clears. I might faint otherwise.”

“Probably a wise idea.”

“I thought so.” You tightened your arms about him, and it all just felt so perfect, so right. You were where you belonged and you were not about to let him go. Not ever, if possible. No moment had ever been so perfect, as the one you shared with him in the moonlight on the most romantic night of your life.

#lindir #the hobbit #lindir x reader #lindir x fem!reader #lindir x you #second time writing him #hope i did him justice #bret mckenzie #nonny asks #pixie answers

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wordbunch · 1 year

Text

✨ wordbunch masterlist ✨

Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit

➳ HEADCANONS

➳ multiple characters (x reader)

you’re in the fellowship and the hobbits have a crush on you

how the hobbits look after you when you’re sick

the fellowship reacts to you singing

LOTR characters taking care of an overworked partner

the fellowship meeting their partner’s family

how you look after the hobbits when they’re sick

LOTR/TH characters with an extroverted partner

hobbits with a partner whose love language is physical touch

hobbits ft. cuddles and kisses

the fellowship tries to set you up on a date

how they take care of a sick/injured partner

their love song (taylor swift edition) - LOTR characters

their love song (taylor swift edition) - the hobbit characters

how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked (lotr + th characters)

➳ one character (x reader)

being a ranger with Aragorn

Boromir with a hyper partner who infodumps

➳ multiple characters (no reader)

the fellowship in a college dorm (modern au)

great middle-earth bakeoff (the fellowship)

➳ one character (no reader)

random Pippin headcanons

➳ MULTI-CHAPTER STORIES

“Winter Forest” (Legolas x female reader): part one /// part two /// part three

“One Lifetime With You” (various characters x elf reader): BOROMIR /// FARAMIR

"Hopeless" (Pippin x female reader): part one /// part two

➳ SFW ALPHABETS

Éowyn

Boromir

Éomer

Aragorn

Legolas

Pippin

Frodo

➳ ONE-SHOTS

“better company” (Sam x Reader)

"a little secret" (TH Bilbo x Reader)

The Rings of Power

➳ HEADCANONS

➳ multiple characters (x reader)

how they comfort you when you miss your family (Galadriel, Arondir, Elrond, Celebrimbor, Gil-galad)

their love song (taylor swift edition) - the rings of power characters

➳ one character (x reader)

being in love with Elrond

Elrond getting jealous

rivals to lovers with Elrond

Elrond as a dad

➳ SFW ALPHABETS

Elrond

Galadriel

Isildur

➳ ONE-SHOTS

“reminiscence” (Elrond x Reader)

“perfectly proper” (Elrond x Reader)

“strong, brave, lovely” (Elrond x Reader)

"countertop confessions" (Isildur x Reader)

Random

my re-read of The Hobbit - thoughts

PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING if you enjoyed a fic, so more people can potentially see it!

#masterlist #wordbunch masterlist #lotr imagine #rop imagine #lotr x reader #lotr headcanons #rings of power imagine #rings of power headcanons #lord of the rings #legolas x reader #elrond x reader #from my pocketses #aragorn x reader #boromir x reader

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kat651 · 5 months

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hey, I got a little request for a fluffy care fic but it’s more of a sensitive topic so if ya don’t want to do it I understand but… could you do something with a female elf reader x Lindir and it’s ‘shark week’ but he’s so naïve and innocent he doesn’t realize that’s why she’s in pain until someone tells him. If this makes you uncomfortable you don’t have to.

You lay in bed, hugging your stomach. This pain was unbearable. Your world began to grow blurry and you moaned. Your stomach hurt, your back hurt, and you were hungry.

“Y/n?” Lindir slowly opened the door to your room. “What are you still doing in bed? Lord Elrond had been waiting for you for over two hours.”

“Leave me be, I’m in pain…” you whispered.

“What do you mean?” Lindir asked, walking over and pulling the blanket down so he could see your face.

You looked up at him as his face changed to one of shock and concern. “Y/n, you’re pale…what’s wrong?”

You whimpered and clutched yourself tighter. He sat and gently rubbed your back. “Do you want me to bring you some tea along with something to eat?”

You nodded and he gave your shoulder a squeeze before standing. “I’ll let lord Elrond know you’re not feeling well…” he whispered.

You moaned in response before closing your eyes.

-.-.-

Lindir placed a plate on a tray along with a small tea pot and a cup and took the tray back to your room. He slowly entered and set the tray on the bedside table before slowly sitting you up and stacking the pillows for you to lean agents. “Hey…”

You smiled as he gently brushed your hair from your face. He slowly set the tray on your lap before standing. “I’ll be back shortly, I just have to inform lord Elrond you won’t be joining us today.”

You nodded as you sipped the tea. “Thank you Lindir.”

Lindir left and entered the library.

“Did you find y/n” Elrond asked as he set a few scrolls on a desk.

Lindir looked at him. “I- she’s still in bed. She could barely move and her face was pale. I’m afraid she has an injury she’s not telling us about.”

Elrond chuckled and shook his head. “No lindir, y/n is not injured…”

“What? But- my lord I’m sure you would think differently if you saw her condition-”

“Lindir, the symptoms you’re describing are quite clear. It’s simply that time of month for her.”

“Time of month- what?”

A female elf chuckled and walked over, whispering in Lindir’s ear before taking a few steps back.

Lindir’s face and ears turned bright red. “Oh…I see…” he murmured.

The elf and Elrond began to chuckle.

Lindir turned even more red. “It’s not funny,” he grumbled before walking off embarrassed.

Lindir worked up the courage to enter your room again and he found you clutching your middle.

He frowned and walked over to you. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

You held out one arm, motioning for him to come closer. He did and you pulled him in for a hug. “Just hold me…”

He turned red again and froze for a moment before going to the other side of the bed and scooting over to you and letting you rest in his arms as he leaned agents the pile of pillows.

You buried your face in his shoulder and slowly took in his scent, relaxing a bit. He was stiff for a while but he soon was cuddling you as much as you were cuddling him. He had his cheek wresting on the top of your shoulder.

-.-.-

Lord Elrond searched all over for lindir before deciding to check your room. He opened the door slowly and a smile came to his face when he saw you asleep as lindir gently rubbed your back.

Lindir looked up when he felt eyes on him. “Lord Elrond I-”

Elrond held up his hand. “Take some time off, she needs someone by her side.”

Lindir nodded as the door closed.

You woke some time later and immediately hissed in pain. Lindir was immediately asking you what you needed and you nuzzled closer. “I need a distraction…” You mumbled.

He thought for a second before placing a kiss on your forehead.

You were surprised by his actions and looked up at him. “I…you…”

He looked away, afraid he’d done something wrong.

“You missed…”

He looked at you as his ears heated up and he placed his lips on yours.

#x reader #lindir #elrond #cute #kat651 #lindir x you #lindir x reader #lindir imagine

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shirefantasies · 22 days

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LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

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imagines--galore · 1 year

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Hi! How are you? I saw your request for lotr characters are open, and was wondering if you could write something Legolas x reader. Where the reader is an elf (or maybe a dúnedain). And she and the prince elf had known each other since forever, but over time took separate paths because of their duties. And now after many years they are finally reunited for one last adventure. (It could be to help Frodo destroy to ring, or something entirely diferent).

Thank youuu!!

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance if you squint.

Translation: Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo, Legolas. - A star shines on the hour of our meeting, Legolas.

A/N: Cannot believe I missed this in my ask box. I hope you like this Anon! And I'm so sorry for being so late about it. Also I'm making the reader an elf.

The journey had been long and brutal, yet they had to have speed on their side. There was no time to be lost. The Uruk-Hai would be marching upon Helm's Deep soon. Thank the Valar, the weather had been in your favor. As Helm's Deep came into view, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement settle within you.

It had been so long since you had seen Legolas. Too long in fact. Since the beginning of the Quest for the Ring, you had only just missed him and his companions while you were having your own adventures. You were a mere Ranger of Lothlórien, yet somehow, the Prince of Mirkwood himself had deemed you worthy enough of his friendship. At first you had considered it an honor, but as time had passed, the two of you began to build a relationship built on a trust that ran deep.

You had been most disappointed when you had returned from a scouting trip, only to be told that the Prince had left with his comrades. Despite the urge to go after them, you had stayed. You had a duty to the Woods you called him and the Lord and Lady that ruled over them.

But when Elrond had made that call, calling elves to arm to help man fight against the darkness that had swept across their land, you had been one of the first to volunteer. Had been the first to pack your necessities and filled your quivers with the finest arrows, before shouldering the bow he had gifted you long ago.

It had been years and years since you had been in his presence, and you had realized, quite early on, that you felt his absence greatly. It was surprising to you at first, and yet, as time went by, it had become clear.

You were in love with Legolas. Perhaps had been the moment you had first met him.

But now would not be the time to discuss such matters. They were at war. A battle was to be had, and if the outcome was in their favor, you promised yourself you would act on your feelings and see what he would have to say.

As you and the rest of the elves marched into Helm's Deep, you were made aware of every man looking in your direction, or rather in the general direction of the army. You had barely lifted your head when your eyes caught sight of an achingly familiar head of golden silvery hair. You lowered your gaze once more, hiding your smile.

Haldir, your Captain, greeted King Théoden, and Aragorn thanked him for arriving so timely. You hadn't seen Aragorn in quite some time too, perhaps this would be a reunion for the ages? Aragorn embraced Haldir, as did Legolas, both visibly glad at their coming. You were standing right behind the Captain as the elves shifted in their position to look straight ahead.

It was then that Legolas looked from over Hadlir's shoulder. His eyes widened. Your name fell from his lips in a whisper. Despite the fact that you would be breaking a few rules, you glanced at your Captain who smiled and gave a small nod. Stepping forward, you reached up to pull back your hood. A few surprised gasps followed your act, the men having not expected a female to be amongst the elven army. What they didn't realize was that there were just as many females as there were male elves.

"Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo, Legolas." You greeted him in Elvish, eyes wide and hopeful as you smiled at him. Another call of your name, this time louder before he embraced you. A small laugh fell from your lips as you wrapped your arms around him just as tightly, returning the embrace. He picked you up and swung you around once, before setting you back on solid ground.

Neither of you cared that there were so many eyes on you, yet everyone seemed to want to share in your joy. To catch a glimpse of a joyful moment such as two friends reuniting after so long. They were to face the ugliness of battle soon. This would be there last bit of beauty before that. Théoden called for the Captain of his Guard to show the elves where they would be positioned. Aragorn began to speak to Haldir of strategies, prompting you to glance in the direction of your Captain.

"You were never one to shy away from a fight were you?" Legolas asked, with his arms bracing your own, as if to reassure himself that you were still here. That you truly were in front of him. You smiled at him. "And let you have all the fun?" You teased, though you could sense the underlying worry in his eyes. He surged forward to press his lips to your brow, closing his eyes as if in a silent prayer.

"Stay safe my friend. We have much to speak of." He whispered against your skin, prompting you to nod and close your eyes, inhaling deeply as you memorized his scent once more. "That we do Legolas. I shall see you once we have won." You said with conviction. There was not a doubt in your heart that you would loose. Not when you had Legolas at your side.

With a parting glance, and a joining of the hands that lingered until you had to step away from him, you disappeared into the crowd to do get to your station, just as Legolas turned to take care of his own duties.

-------------------------

A/N: Hmmmmm should i continue this?

#legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas x oc #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #hobbit imagine

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she-wolf09231982 · 1 year

Text

Chapter 3-And So It Begins

Summary: As you and Legolas near Rivendell for the Council of Elrond, you grow steadily worrisome, and Legolas senses it. When you finally reach home, you are greeted with arms wide open from your father, older twin brothers, and your sister. You also discover your father has many guests staying at his kingdom, to include Gandalf the Grey.

Author Note: LegolasxFemaleElf, Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves, Men, LOTR movie references, Days before the creation of the Fellowship of the Ring, Sindarin language, (A lot of it, I apologize, I couldn't help myself)

@abaker74 @michaelcerassweatband @maddi-sun18

Sindarin to English translations

*nin cóon- my prince

*Nin mellons/*nin bein mellon- My friends/my fair friend

*hain baur anand na post -they need time to rest

*Cin ceri- sui eithel, nin cóon-You do as well, my prince

*nin híril/ nin bein hiril - my lady/my fair lady

* Lothron im?- May I?

*Tinu Galad- Star Light

*Nin bein -iel- My fair daughter

*Adar- Father

*Happui na gar- cin bar-Happy to have you home

~~~~~~~~

The journey would take at least two months if you travelled straight through without stopping. Fortunately, as you were the daughter to the Lord of Rivendell, you also had authority to grant stops for breaks for the entourage that toured with you and Legolas.

Legolas was normally quiet during times of travel so he could focus on navigating and hearing threats that are possibly approaching. This time, he was even more silent than usual.

“Are you troubled, "*nin cóon?” You ask him as he was gazing ahead in silence for almost four hours.

Legolas snapped a startled look at you as if you disturbed him from subconscious thought.

“I’m quite well, *nin bein hiril.” He responded, reverting his attention back onto the path ahead.

Of course, you didn’t entirely believe him. Legolas is distracted. Although he was vigilant of his surroundings, half of his thoughts were lingering elsewhere. This worried you because you were so mindful of Legolas’ wellbeing since you were wee elves.

"*Nin mellons, we shall rest here for the night!” You call out to the assembly of elves behind you.

Legolas shot a disagreeable look towards you.

"Legolas,*hain baur anand na post.” You responded sternly, yet tenderly.

“*Cin ceri- sui eithel, nin cóon. We have been riding for almost a week without stopping, after all.” You added.

He softened his facial expression and nodded in agreement. He knew you were only doing what’s best for the elves who travelled with you. He forgets that he is often overly driven during excursions that warranted great importance. Especially since it was at the request of your father, and he didn’t want to disappoint Lord Elrond if he could possibly help it.

~~~~~~~~

The other elves set up a few fires with pavilions for shelter. There were only about a dozen of you travelling total, but as royals, you and Legolas each had your own sleeping quarters. As the subjects relaxed while enjoying food and drink, you carried on with your nightly routine strolling with Legolas through the wilderness. It was nice to see new scenery you hadn’t seen before.

“Legolas, why do you suppose my father has called a council?” You asked.

He looked over to you with a relaxed gaze.

“I was going to ask you the same question, *nin híril.” He responded with a smile.

You laugh, “Well, you had seemed eager when your father insisted you attend.”

“I have been trapped in Mirkwood refining my combat skills for a long time in hopes I’d have the opportunity to utilize them. I imagine your father has a quest in mind. Or so I hope.” He responded.

You nod, deflecting your eye contact from his. Legolas continued looking at you.

“This discourages you.” He acknowledged.

You look back to him.

“No.” You respond curtly, looking away again.

Legolas tilted his head perplexed, then emitted a playful smile.

“You lie, *nin mellon.” He teased.

You deliver a look of irritation at him.

“How so?” You ask as you narrow your eyes.

“Because you won’t look me in the eye! You are disturbed by this summons to Rivendell.”

He was right. You were troubled by this. You fear there is a journey at hand, and that Legolas would be the one to proceed forward with it. To go on…without you.

“And, if there is such a mission father had arranged, why couldn’t I go as well? I am perfectly competent with a sword and bow.” You think to yourself.

Your mind says this, but your heart claims it’s because you didn’t want to spend months, (possibly years) awaiting Legolas’ return. Agonizing over his whereabouts each day while he is away. Wondering if he’s still captured, injured…or worse.

“No! I couldn’t bare it. I won’t allow it.” You thought anxiously to yourself, feeling your heart hammering against your chest in a panic as your imagination of this unknown voyage worsened.

~~~~~~~~

Your worrisome thoughts kept you from sound sleep that night. The following morning as you struggled to mount your horse, Legolas watched you with apprehension.

“*Lothron im?” Legolas offered his hand to help up to your saddle.

You look at him, and nod.

Legolas took you firmly at the waist and hoisted you upward effortlessly onto your stallion, *Tinu Galad.

You settle into your seat, then notice Legolas shaking his head with a grin.

“What is it, Legolas?” You ask.

“I will never understand why you gave him that name.” He said referring to your horse.

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Because his silver coat gleams like the stars in the night sky. Just like the stars, he brings light when there is darkness in my life.” You explain as you stroke the neck of your handsome steed. *Tinu Galad neighed lovingly under your touch.

Legolas stroked his neck as well, grazing your hand against his nonchalantly. Your stomach fluttered. Your heart practically stilled when he grabbed your hand, holding it gently in his strong capable hand. His thumb brushing along your knuckles affectionately.

You look down at your hands together, then look up to meet his piercing stare, and his soft smile.

“Y/N, I know you are bothered by what’s to come. I sense your distress. Steady your thoughts, and your heart.” He said with his usual soothing tone. You return a smile. He pats your knee as he passed you to go to his horse behind yours.

You let out a sigh of relief, his soothing words lingering in your mind.

~~~~~~~~

The rest of the trip went rather smoothly. As a matter of fact, you enjoyed your travels with Legolas on this specific journey. You weren’t certain if it was because you normally cherished your time with him, or if it’s due to the limited amount of time you might have left with him before reaching Rivendell.

You and Legolas ride side by side upon entering the floral clad archway leading to the main gates of Rivendell. A sight you and your best friend recognize and appreciate all too well. Many a day have you both crossed eachother’s threshold as children during state visits at one another’s kingdoms, quite excited because you get to engage with your closest playmate. A time long ago when nothing else mattered in Middle Earth but you and Legolas. Until now, as adults, reaching Rivendell for a mysterious gathering of council called by your father.

“*Nin bein -iel!” You hear from a distance.

You look beyond the Rivendell guard holding *Tinu Galad to see your father, Lord Elrond, your twin brothers Elladan and Elrohir, and your sister, Arwen, rushing to greet you and Legolas.

You smile widely, waving excitedly seeing your family approach.

Your state visits took months away from you and your family. You missed them terribly and was overjoyed to see them finally.

When they finally reached you, your father and sister embraced you in a warm and doting hug, as your brothers greeted Legolas with their traditional Elvin greetings.

“Have you grown since I last seen you?” Elrond asks.

You grin and laugh with him.

“Of course not, *adar.” You reply.

“*Happui na gar- cin bar, sister.” Arwen welcomed. You hug her tightly again.

“Also, Legolas is quite the spectacle since I last seen him.” Arwen whispered to you teasingly.

You pull away flashing a disapproving look at her.

“Odd, I haven’t noticed.” You reply with a mischievous smile. Arwen smiled back.

Your father approached Legolas.

“Legolas, Son of Thandruil, I bid thee welcome. I trust my daughter was of no trouble to you and your father whilst at Mirkwood?” Elrond asks as he embraced Legolas in a brief one-armed hug.

“Unlikely.” Elladan scoffed under his breath with a chuckle.

Arwen thumped Elladan’s shoulder but she couldn’t help but smile herself.

“It was my great honor to escort Y/N home, your lordship.” Legolas responded with a respectful bow.

Lord Elrond smiled approvingly at Legolas and returned a nod accepting his customs and courtesies.

Elrond ushered Legolas ahead towards the castle to get settled while you walk with Arwen behind them.

Arwen continued to pursue conversation of Legolas with you as you approached the castle.

“Y/N, Legolas has grown into quite the leading elf. Father adores him. Elladan and Elrohir as well, just look!” Arwen gestured ahead at Legolas, Elrond and your brothers ascending the stone steps side by side.

You look up to see your father’s arm draped across Legolas’ shoulders having an in-depth conversation. All nodding and laughing in agreement about something. Getting along quite well as usual.

You remain silent, half smiling then looking back down.

Arwen looked at you, awaiting a response. You knew what she was trying to achieve bringing this to your attention.

“Arwen, King Thandruil forbids Legolas and I as friends, let alone becoming his bride. We would never gain his approval.” You stated.

Arwen’s impish smile faded into concern. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“And why is that?” She asked.

You hesitated to respond, knowing she would detest your answer.

“He prefers a pure Elvin bloodline for Legolas.” You say more shaken than you had wanted to.

Arwen’s dissatisfied expression deepened. Annoyed by the arrogance she just heard. She pulled you closer to her.

“Hear this, sister; if your heart lies with Legolas, then you take hold of Legolas, and do not give in. Not even to the high and mighty, King Thandruil.” Arwen stated.

You love your sister dearly. She always took you under her wing, and never allowed you to think less of yourself. She knew you the best among all your family members and made certain you knew deep down you were a treasure. She already sensed your soul belonged to Legolas. Even if you didn’t even fully know yourself.

You look at Arwen then smile, “Just like yourself and Aragorn?” You raise your eyebrows at her in triumph.

Arwen smiled affectionately at you; aware you know her all too well.

Aragorn, son of man, heir to Isildur, raised in your kingdom under the protection of your father, fancied your sister, Arwen, with all his heart. Their connection beginning similar to yours and Legolas.

You both giggle.

“Is Aragorn here?” You ask Arwen.

“He is. Arrived just this morning.” She replied.

You observed a small scratch on her right cheek.

“What’s this? You ask concerned. You gently touch the wound. She pats your hand reassuringly.

“A thorn from a sapling grazed me as I was escaping from Black Riders.” She explained.

Your eyes widened. “Black riders?? How have you found yourself having to evade Black Riders?” You ask alarmed.

“There is a great deal to explain, sister. Much has occurred while you travelled home from Mirkwood.” Arwen said.

~~~~~~~~

Your father boarded many new guests at Rivendell before your return. You discovered the presence of four Shire-folk, the High Warden of the White Tower, and the Lord of the Glittering Caves in addition to Legolas. Even the great Gandalf the Grey was present. This must have been a meeting of great magnitude to gather hobbits, men, dwarves, elves and a brilliant wizard.

~~~~~~~~

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specialagentlokitty · 8 months

Text

Fili/Kili x sister!reader - unlikely bonds

Hey, I really want to request a Fili + Kili x sister reader however I know there aren’t female dwarfs, so maybe they come across a young elf who is stranded in the middle of nowhere. They take her in and plan to return her to her kind, however along the way they grow very close. Perhaps they never find her family, and so they try and find someone who will take her on however she doesn’t want to leave them. - Anon💜

A/N: italics will be elvish

If there was one thing you had learned being in the middle of nowhere it was not to trust anybody you came across.

So, when a small group of travellers stumbled across you, you were quick to ready your weapon, and they did the same thing.

“By the time you get near me I’ll shoot you all down where you stand.” You sneered.

The tallest of the group raised his hands.

“We mean you no harm, we are just travelling.”

“I do not care, go around.”

“We cant. The passage on the other side of the mountain is full of danger, it is not safe for anybody to go that way.”

You narrowed your eyes a little bit, shooting an arrow at the foot of a blond dwarf who attempted to move closer to you.

“It is not safe for a young elf to be out here in her own either, do you have company?” The taller one asked.

“It is none of your business.”

He smiled a little.

“Perhaps not, but I worry about leaving you behind. Perhaps we can accompany you to the nearest village?”

You stared at him in shock.

“You understand me?”

“Oh very well, I good friend of my taught me the language. Perhaps you know of Lord Elrond?”

You nodded.

“I do, many of the elves do. He was very well known in our small village. Who are you?”

“Where are my manners? I am Gandalf.”

“I see, I recognise your name, and I know of your quest.”

Gandalf smiled to you.

“So will you allow us to escort you safely to a village?”

You had heard stories of the wizard, and of his recent adventure with the dwarves and the halfling.

Though the idea of travelling with dwarfs didn’t appeal to you, you knew it was safer than trying to travel on your own with no map and little food.

So you nodded.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful, let us get aquatinted.”

You realised how much you didn’t get along with dwarves and why elves and dwarves didn’t get along.

While you were clean and organised and polite, they were messy, chaotic and at the best of times rude.

But it was the two younger dwarves who caught you attention, they were nosy of course, but they did their best to respect you and stayed away from you when eating or when you were taking a few moments to relax.

But of course they couldn’t fully stay away, they just wanted to be friends.

“Come on, surely you can tell us something about your village.” Fili said.

“Exactly, what was it like? Where is it?” Kili asked next.

Glancing at the two smaller men next to you, you went back to eating your dinner.

“I cannot tell you where it is, and there is not much to say about it. It was a small village hidden away so we could live in peace.”

“Is it like Rivendell?” Fili asked.

You shook your head.

“Nowhere near as elegant. While Rivendell hides in the mountains, and Mirkwood in the forests, my village preferred between two raging rivers where people could not cross and plants were plenty.”

“Well how did you get there?” Kili asked.

“Leave the lass alone.” Balin scolded.

He gave you a small smile and rounded the two young dwarves away from you so you could eat.

It was like a routine, they would sneak away to join you but eventually get dragged back by one of the others.

And soon enough you grew used to their company, and enjoyed having them around.

Before you knew it you had been travelling with them for a while, and Fili and Kiki had adopted you as their own.

“What if we take you to a nearby elf village and see if one of them can look after you?” Thorin asked.

“The nearest one is too far from your mountain, you needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Do you not wish to return home?” Dwalin asked.

“Of course I do, but my village is long gone, I do not know where my family is. I do not mind travelling with you all.”

“It is nice having somebody to talk to.” Bilbo smiled.

“If we take a detour we may never make it in time.” Fili said.

“Which is why I will carry on travelling with you.”

The dwarves seemed conflicted.

“I don’t understand what the issue is.” Bilbo whispered.

You knelt down next to him.

“It is because compared to many of my kind I am young, not quite an adult, not quite a child. They do not want to travel with somebody so young, even though I am in fact around the same age as most of them.”

Bilbo nodded a little bit.

“It’s just not safe, we don’t want to put you in danger.” Kili mumbled.

You smiled at him.

“My brother, I will be okay.”

Thorin looked at you.

“When we pass the next town we will find somebody there to take you in for the meantime.”

You sighed.

You couldn’t protest with the dwarf king, it was not your place.

So you simply accepted it and made the most of the time you had with the group.

Stopping at a town, Thorin began going from door to door, asking people if they would be willing to house you.

“You will stay here where you will be safe.” Fili said.

You narrowed your eyes.

“I will follow you.”

“You can’t, Thorin as spoken. You are to stay here (Y/N).” Fili sighed.

You shook your head.

“Yes he may have spoken about me travelling with you, but not about me travelling alone.”

Kili grinned a little.

“She has a point, he never said she wasn’t able to travel by herself. Perhaps she just happens to be going the same way.”

“You know he will disapprove!” Fili hissed.

“He would never see me!” You whispered.

Fili looked at you.

“Do not encourage this!”

You frowned a little.

“I do not want to leave you to do this alone…”

The dwarf sighed, sitting next to you but the fountain.

“I know, we do not want to leave you either, but this was we can assure you are safe.”

You glanced at him.

“I cannot assure you are safe though, so I must come with you. Perhaps I will never find my family again, perhaps I will, but you two have become my family, and I cannot let you leave like I did the others.”

You stood up, looking at them both.

“Whether you go with or without me, I will still follow you there. I will make my way to that mountain myself if I must.”

They both smiled at you, getting up to hug you, and you hugged them back tightly.

“We will talk Thorin around.” Fili whispered.

Because truth be told, they would stay if you couldn’t go with them.

You were their best friend, their sister, and they needed to make sure that you were okay as well

#the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit imagine

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draculasfavoritewife · 10 months

Text

Meleth Nín (My Love)

Summary: The very future of Middle Earth may hang in the balance, but a quiet night allows thoughts to stray toward questions of a more personal nature.

Pairing: Legolas Thranduilion x elf!Reader/OC

Warnings: Pining, female language used for reader.

I wrote this a couple summers ago during my brief but intense LOTR phase. "Enelya" is the Elvish name I got from a name generator as a kid so I used it here 😁. Apologies for the length, I got massively carried away. This IS supposed to be x reader, I just wrote it before I was comfortable writing in 2nd person.

(Translations of Elvish phrases at the end)

It is my turn for first watch tonight, an assignment that I do not mind even during normal times, and that I am almost bittersweetly grateful for on this night. I have much on my mind that needs settling, and somehow, I do not think that listening to the grating snores of the sons of Gloin and Denethor would give me more peace than the crisp night air.

The surrounding woods are still, nothing moving about in the underbrush that shouldn’t be, and I allow my guard a chance at rest, turning my attention to the stars instead of the trees. Crouched where I am on a wide branch, I have a perfect window through to the deep ebony expanse of the sky, and a strange blend of homesickness and excitement blazes briefly through my chest. The stars are strange here, arranged differently than they are back in the Greenwood, yet a few familiar individuals still flicker amongst foreign constellations.

It reminds me of the first time Legolas coaxed me into climbing his favorite tree back home so I could see the stars. I will never forget the wonder I felt as he pulled me through the last layer of obscuring leaves and the sky unfolded before me, rolling on forever. I’d seen the stars many times in Imladris, but they were different there, blessed with a sense of safety and serenity that everything beneath the watchful eyes of Elrond felt.

With Thranduilion, high in the crown of the wood, balanced on the very threshold of the sky, with nothing anchoring me except his steady hand holding mine, it suddenly seemed I could reach out and touch the Valar themselves. I remember laughing, simply because no other reaction could express what I felt. Thranduilion laughed beside me; it was late, we were the only two still out after a hunt, and I still am not entirely sure why he took me up there.

Whatever the reason, that instance changed many things for me. It sparked in me something older and fiercer than I knew, some desire for more than what I had there in the Greenwood, much as I loved it. Some yearning which prompted me to accompany my Prince along on this solemn venture, wherever it leads.

I’ve tried not to admit it, but that night started changing the way I saw him as well.

Someone approaches, passage no more than a whisper, only slightly less silent than one of my own people, and there is only one it could be. No guard is needed around one I’ve known since we were both children.

“Estel.”

“Mae govannen, Enelya.” He leans against my branch, supported on crossed arms. The others call him Strider, or Aragorn, but to me he will always be my Estel, the companion I spent a couple of decades with after my childhood, before my mother’s people sent for me to return to the Greenwood. Elrond looked after the both of us when our mothers died, and besides my Prince and hunting partner, Estel knows me better than any being in all of Arda.

Silence hangs between us, draped across the strange stars, until he brushes it aside like a curtain of cobwebs. “What troubles you, Gwathel nín?”

“Who said I was troubled, Gwador nín?”

“Your face does, for one,” he replies, voice wry.

“Manen?”

“Well, you won’t look at me, Mellon nín. That’s usually a telling sign I’m right and you don’t want to admit it.” He gives no sign of letting up with his persistence.

I sigh and glance down, taking in the familiar grizzled face and sharp gray eyes. “Mar bedithach, Estel?”

“I’ll leave when you unburden yourself. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t already heard from anyone else on this journey. If you miss the Greenwood, or are having a difficult time restraining yourself from stabbing several members of this fine Fellowship, I assure you, you are not weak, nor are you alone.” White teeth flash in a crooked grin, and I can’t help returning it.

“Those are both excellent guesses, and I admit to you that such thoughts have passed through my mind on multiple occasions. However,” I cast my gaze back up to the heavens, “I highly doubt that anyone else in this…most distinguished company is suffering from the same unrest of the soul that I am.”

Oh Valar, don’t let my face be heating up….

Estel turns so his back rests against my branch, leaving his hands free to light his pipe. He does so and takes a few long draws without responding to my declaration.

I wrinkle my nose. “You’re inviting an early death with such bad practices, Gwador nín.”

“So Legolas has informed me several times over, but without such sisterly concern for my health.�� He’s laughing at me on the inside, I can tell. “Speaking of, am I terribly far from the mark in assuming your fair Prince is the source of your ‘unrest of the soul’, Mellon nín?”

He knows me too well. Even decades apart have done nothing to weaken the bond we shared as children, nor have I mastered any technique of hiding my thoughts that can escape his piercing gaze, it seems.

“You don’t have to answer,” Estel murmurs. “Your silence speaks more clearly than anything you could say.”

“I didn’t think I would fall in love with him,” I offer.

A grunt is his disbelieving answer. “You spend every free minute together, and even the time that is required for patrolling, hunting, and so on and so forth. To be bluntly honest, I’m surprised it took you six decades. I owe my brothers some money, it would seem, if they still recall the wager we made upon your departure from Elrond’s house. Perhaps I won’t remind them.”

I can’t decide whether to be astonished or angry. “You and the twins made a wager on me?”

“Not on you,” Estel is quick to clarify. “On how long it would take you to develop an attraction towards Thranduilion.”

“So you all just assumed I would, hmm?”

“And rightly.” He sounds so insolent, as if all of a sudden he is once again the younger brother, and not the protective elder he made himself out to be as he reached maturity. “It was only a matter of time, Gwathel nín. You held out longer than I bet, of course, but Thranduilion is easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. My correspondence with you has been irregular, I will be the first to admit, but from the time I learned of your partnership on both the battlefield and hunting grounds, I thought you would find him a kindred spirit, and someone to admire.”

I shake my head as if to protest, but what is there to protest? Estel sees truth. Far from being pampered royalty, Legolas it was who took it upon himself to teach me the ways of his father’s kingdom. He reawakened the Silvan part of my heritage that had long since been denied its native wildness in Imladris, and instilled in me that ferocious love for the Greenwood that keeps the Silvan people rooted there even now, as we have to scrape our very livelihoods out of the Dark Lord’s overhanging shadow. We get along as well as if we have walked side by side for an Age, not the paltry decades I have been in the employ of King Thranduil’s guard. The Prince chooses me for the majority of his hunts and orc raids, and we have reached an understanding so fine that words need not be exchanged for us to always know where the other is in the thick of combat.

He is nearly as much a part of my identity as the Silvan and Noldor blood that runs mingled through my veins.

Is it any wonder, then, that I want more?

“Enelya.” Estel’s voice is soft as he blows smoke into the breeze. “You can talk to me, you know. I’ll die before I betray your trust.”

“I know.” I sink to a sitting position and let one leg dangle into space, resting an arm across my other knee. “I’m not entirely sure what else to say, aside from what I’ve already said. I love him, Estel.”

He nods thoughtfully and taps the end of his pipe against his teeth. “Your eyes betray you when we travel. Ever they seek him out, even as you watch the landscape for danger.”

Estel almost seems about to say something else, but even minutes of waiting do not draw it out of him, so I go back to the protest I would have made.

“He does not distract me. I am as deadly as ever.”

“I did not accuse you of distraction. I only observed that you watch him.” His eyes flit upwards, to my face, before darting away into the darkness again. “As he does you.”

I stare down into my sworn brother’s shadowed countenance, unsure of whether my ears are playing tricks on me. Estel wouldn’t lie about such things. Surely I heard wrong.

“He does what?”

A burst of smoke from between his lips could mean either amusement or irritation. With Estel, the two often travel hand in hand. “Thranduilion. His eyes follow where you go when we are on the move. Always his attention is on you, even as he stands watch over us. You mean a great deal to him, Mellon nín.”

Trying to tamp down the surge of emotion rising inside me, I shrug, letting the wind run its cool, long fingers through my hair. “I should hope I do. We’ve been through much together, and saved each other’s lives many times.”

Now I know he’s annoyed with me. “I meant more than that. I don’t have much with which to wager at the moment, but if I did, I might wager he feels similarly about you as you do him.”

I stare down at Estel, but he’s looking away again. “Well. Even if that were the case….” I trail off, pulling my knees back up to my chest. “There are too many problems standing in our way.”

“Such as…?”

“By the Valar, you’ve become so nosy in your old age, Little Brother.” Despite my ribbing, I can tell by the set of his jaw that this ridiculous matter has become of utmost importance to him for some reason, and I know Estel too well to believe he would give up before we have talked this through. I sigh, resigning myself to discussing my nonexistent romance with him.

“For one, he’s thousands of years older than I, Estel. I’m barely over a century old.”

“Oh no,” he mutters dryly. “How scandalous, an age difference.”

Realizing that he and Arwen are also thousands of years apart, I drop my forehead to my knees. “Well, maybe that wasn’t the best reason.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Another long draw of his pipe sends a misty cloud drifting about his face.

“His father would never approve of his son taking up with a Silvan and not a Sindar.” This is painfully true. Legolas told me of his father’s harsh objections to his interest in Tauriel quite some time ago.

“Are you in love with Thranduil?” Estel asks in a monotone.

I glare at him. “No! Mîbo orch, Estel.”

He ignores my insult. “Then worry less about what Thranduil thinks and more about what Legolas thinks. He’s as loyal as one could ever be to those he chooses, and more than stubborn enough to stand up to his father.”

There is wisdom in his words. However, the biggest reason that has kept me silent on this subject for so long still remains.

“You know Elves only love once,” he murmurs, tone fading to gentle. “And they seldom err in their choice of soulmate.”

“I know.” The words slip from my tongue, condensing in the cool air. “And he once thought he loved another.”

Estel says nothing to this revelation, merely sending smoke rings floating up into the night sky. I can’t tell if he’s pondering what I’ve said, or if he truly has no rebuttal for it.

“You never saw the way he looked at her, Estel. He talked about her many times when it was just he and I on a hunt. No one else was ever allowed to see how deeply he was hurt when she fell for the Dwarf. I can’t be sure, but I expect he’s never been the same since.” It feels freeing, to finally relate all of this to my sworn brother. I keep many secrets, probably the reason Legolas felt he could confide his heartbreak in me. Yet long has that particular burden hung heavy on my own heart, and I am relieved to bare it to the man beside me.

His hand rests comfortingly on my back, once again the protector he thought I needed when we were young. “None of us are ever the same as we once were, Mellon nín. Much as you resemble the elleth I once knew, even you have been changed by your time in the Greenwood. Your people may not change as swiftly nor as dramatically as mine, and yet not even the eternal can live so long in Arda without being shaped. Six decades certainly influence a lot of things.”

I nod, turning his argument over in my mind. “You say he watches for me?”

The small smile that crosses Estel’s weather-worn face is this time not sarcastic nor teasing. “Indeed he does. Whenever the two of you are parted for a time, even if it is just that I sent you off to scout ahead, he is as tightly drawn as his own bowstring until you return. Who knows, perhaps even he hasn’t entirely recognized it yet. But something will come of it, Enelya. Of this I am sure.”

“And if Elladan and Elrohir were along with us, am I to assume you would all place a wager on how soon?”

He nudges me with his elbow. “There’s that sense of humor I’ve been missing. Now, I suppose I had better leave you, because as unobtrusive as he thinks he is being, someone else is waiting for you. I’ll take next watch. Losto mae, Gwathel nín.”

“Nostad lín sui orch, Estel,” I snicker, referring both to the stench of his pipe and what I’ve been telling him since childhood. “And le hannon.”

He waves as he returns to the light of the fire. “Carnen an gwend, Enelya.”

I stare back at the stars above me, knowing that if who Estel implied is really waiting for me, he will approach at his own time and no amount of cajoling will bend him my way sooner.

So I wait as well.

No more than a sigh of the tree itself heralds his arrival beside me on the branch.

“Do you wish to be alone with your thoughts, Mellon nín?”

Gazing over my shoulder, I am met by Thranduilion’s piercing blue eyes as he leans against the trunk of my perch.

“If so, I will gladly leave you to them.” There is the slightest wistful note beneath his tone; for all his politeness, he wishes to speak to me.

Did he overhear my conversation with Estel?

Heart starting to flutter like a sparrow’s wings, I shake my head. “Avo ‘osto, Hîr nín. Baren bar lin, as they say.”

“What have I done to deserve such formal address, Mellon?” he asks lightly. Though he laughs, warm and cheerful, an undercurrent of hurt runs deep through the words.

Does it hurt him, truly, to call him so? “Goheno nin, Thranduilion,” I murmur, unable to look away from that intense gaze. “My mind was not in the present moment, I fear.”

“Ú-moe edaved, Enelya.” His reply is warm, and I cannot miss the affection that wreathes around my name as it falls from his lips. “I am only glad to learn I have not offended you.”

“Rest assured, I would have let you know in no uncertain terms if you had,” I inform him saucily.

His laughter at my cheek is bright now, all trace of concern gone. “This is true.” Nodding towards my view of the dark sky, he leans closer, bending so he can see what I am seeing. “Looking for old friends among the new?”

“Indeed.” I stretch out my spine, careful not to knock him away from my shoulder. “I miss some of our constellations that you pointed out to me in the Greenwood.”

Legolas stands upright again. “Aphado nin.” He reaches upward for a branch and swings to a higher level.

I rise to my feet and stare up at him between the leaves. “Am man theled?”

“To see the whole sky, of course. You’ll never gaze upon the greater picture if you do not climb higher, Mellon nín.” He holds out a hand.

I take it, allowing him to pull me up to his level before continuing the climb. “You said those very words when you made me climb that tree the first time back home.”

“I didn’t make you.” I can nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “You were given a choice.”

It is my turn to laugh now. “Not when you say such poetic and inspiring things, Legolas. Although I was terrified of climbing to the crown of that tree, your way of putting it made me feel I should never be complete until I had seen the whole sky. I consider myself bewitched.”

He shoves my shoulder as he easily passes me up. “No one is whole unless they have seen the entire sky. Estelio nin. It is truth.”

“I do trust you. That’s why I climbed the tree with you that night, even though I was still frightened of falling. I knew you would catch me.”

We remain in silence then until we break through the leaves, pushing through as if to the surface from underwater. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve done something similar with Thranduilion, those late nights after a hunt, but it still takes my breath away, to gaze upon the veil of stars and clouds that rolls ever on to the very edges of Arda. The sight makes the songs of my people flow through my veins, never failing to give me the gift of peace.

I should thank him for introducing me to the sky more often.

“I hope I never grow tired of this.” It takes me a moment to realize I’ve breathed the words aloud.

Legolas is gazing out in the opposite direction, handsome face serene. “You will not.”

I want to impertinently ask him how he would know, but I swallow the teasing words. He has walked these lands for nearly three millennia, and still finds such joy in it that he felt he needed to introduce me to that joy. He would know.

“Enelya.”

“Yes, Mellon nín?” I turn to face him.

He drops down to sit on a branch that is old enough to serve as a seat. “Will you help me?”

I know what he is asking for. He’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, but it has been a ritual of ours for years, and I enjoy it as much as he does. “Of course.” I make my way to his side and start to unwind his braids.

“I’ll do the same for you,” he promises, relaxing into my touch.

I weave my fingers through his silky hair as I release it to the mercies of the breeze, untangling any knots, minuscule as they are, and drawing out fronds of moss and bits of leaf that have found their way into his tresses. I can’t remember when we first started caring for each other’s hair at the end of the day, but it is always one of my favorite times spent with him. The few moments we have no responsibilities and can just talk about nothing, as friends are wont to.

“What do you think the others would say, if they knew the truth?” I ask teasingly, moving to the tiny braids over his ear.

His eyes flash to give me a sideways glance. “What do you mean?”

I smirk. “Do you not hear them speak of you, in wondering whispers? They all ask how Thranduilion manages to stay so neat, how his hair, long and beautiful as it is, remains free of forest debris and untroubled by tangles. They have begun to speculate that it is some gift from Elbereth, that he looks fresh as the day we set off while the rest of them grow ever more unkempt. What would they say, if they knew it is simply because I re-braid your hair every night?”

Wicked mischief flashes across his countenance for a brief instant. “They would all come running to you for your excellent services, I imagine. Do you want me to tell them, and so dispel the legends? I would prefer to keep your company in such matters to myself, but perhaps I shouldn’t be so selfish. After all,” he leans closer to whisper, “it might be worth it, to see you running your fingers through Aragorn’s oily mane.”

I can’t stop the choking noise that comes from my throat. “I love that man, but there are some things I will never do for him, Legolas.”

His quiet laughter floats into the night. “Nor should you have to.”

Something pricks my fingertip and I yank my hand away from his hair. “Ai! Is this a burr, Thranduilion? Where on Arda did you find that?”

He shrugs easily. “It could have been anywhere. Yet I assume it came from one of my solitary scouts. Had the halflings followed where I tread, surely they would have all come away full of them.”

I try not to laugh at the thought of our four smallest companions drowning in burrs. “It is fortunate you only picked up one.”

Once my Prince’s hair has been seen to, he turns so I can sit before him and begins the same process on mine. Much as I love the feeling of the wind running its fingers through my hair, it cannot compete with the gentle and nimble hands of Legolas. My eyes close as those hands begin their familiar path, and for some time all that I know is the warmth of his body next to mine and the soft melody of the well-loved song he hums next to my ear.

Is it any wonder, that I have come to care for him as I do?

“Mellon nín?” he murmurs suddenly.

“Yes?”

“What made you decide to accompany me on this quest? You know you could have returned to the Greenwood.”

“That I do.” I sigh and let my eyes flutter open again. How much do I say? “But if this quest fails, it will not matter if I had returned to the Greenwood, for even Thranduil Elvenking cannot keep the shadows at bay forever if the Dark Lord triumphs.”

He is silent for some time, and I let him remain so. I learned long ago that Legolas will not share what is on his mind except at a time of his own choosing.

“I suppose you are right,” he finally concedes. His fingertips brush my ear, and I shiver at the contact. “It was no doubt my own desire to know you would be safer at home that clouded such truth from my mind.” His voice grows somber. “You do know, Enelya, that we may never see the Greenwood again.”

“Of course, Mellon nín. Yet through all my time in my mother’s land I have been at your side, and the Valar themselves could not keep me from staying beside you. Even unto the Halls of Mandos, I would rather accompany you than be apart from you.” My breath catches on the last word. Have I said too much?

His hands pause in their combing to rest upon my shoulders. “I am blessed, then, to have found such a companion as you.”

“Le hannon, Legolas.”

When next he speaks, there is a layer of hesitation resting over his tone that I rarely hear from him. “Do you know, I was quite angry when you first insisted on traveling with me.”

“Oh, I remember. How could I not?” I sniff. “You didn’t speak to me the entire first day of our journey.”

“I am not proud of my conduct,” he admits penitently. “However, I do realize, since that time has passed, that some good came of it.”

I feel his long fingers trace my jawline, soft as a breath, turning my face slightly and prompting me to shift so I can meet his gaze.

His eyes are deep and thoughtful, turned mithril silver by the moon as it breaks from behind a cloud.

“Do you know, Enelya, how that one day without your company felt to me? Even the torture of seeing you walk at the perimeter of our Fellowship, yet kept from approaching you — by my own stubbornness — made my heart feel sundered from my chest. I realized that day that I could not have endured it if you had indeed returned home as I suggested. One day without your laugh, without your smile on me, was enough for a lifetime.” Legolas’s tone is raw with honesty, and a great many things seem to be making sense to me now.

It would seem Estel may have been correct, after all, though I won’t tell him so.

I remember how difficult that first day of the trek was, knowing all too well that Legolas was displeased with my choice. I have seen him angry, at his father, usually, and I knew all the signs too well. I can recall then how delighted and relieved I was when I awoke the following morning to the smell of my favorite fish baking over the fire; Legolas and I have had our fair share of tiffs over the long years, and that is his tried-and-true method of asking my forgiveness when he is at fault.

We ate our morning meal sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, no one else the wiser of our wordless play of apologies and affirmations.

Well, Estel probably was. But he doesn’t count.

“What do you wish to say to me, Mellon nín?” I murmur, lifting my own fingers to brush against his cheek.

He leans into my touch. “I have thought about you much during these uncertain days, even when we are not given much opportunity to talk. About how sorely I would have missed your presence, and grieved at not being able to feel you at my back whenever we face a threat. About how much I have missed times like this, when there is no one but you and I beneath the stars, sitting in the lap of the heavens.”

“And what would you have done, without me to braid your hair? Become as scruffy as dear Estel?” I tease.

He curls his lip in mock disgust. “Gerich faer vara, suggesting such a thing to me! I should certainly think not. I admire your Estel, Mellon nín, but I don’t believe the man has bathed once since we set out from Imladris. Yet he has had plenty of chances!”

I laugh, leaning back against his chest and settling into my new position, comfortable from countless times of sitting like this. “Estel and his questionable hygiene aside, what were you saying?”

His hands trail down my arms to my hands, where he weaves our fingers together. His hands are finer, more elegant than a mortal man’s, yet they are still wider than mine, surrounding my smaller ones with gentle fondness. This, too, is a much-practiced gesture between us, though there is a different flavor to it tonight. It feels more intimate, as if it means more than our mutual trust and respect this time.

He smiles; I can hear it in his singsong words, close to my ear. “What I am trying to say, Enelya, is le annon veleth nín.”

He gives his love to me?

“Gerich veleth nín,” I answer simply. “It already belonged to you.”

His lips brush my hair. “I used to wonder, when I was a much younger ellon, why I never felt the need to find a life partner when I came of age. Indeed, Ada certainly bothered me about it for several centuries, until other more pressing issues caught his attention.”

I’ve never heard Legolas refer to Thranduil as Ada, and certainly not with the echo of a sigh beneath the endearment. It makes my heart ache strangely, to wonder what long-forgotten love once flowed freely between adar and iôn before they let their rift widen so far.

But this moment is not to be sullied by mourning what has been lost.

“Do you believe one can wait thousands of years to find their soulmate?” he asks.

“I do. I know most can’t fathom such a wait, but for our people, it does not matter.”

“Truly. I think I never pursued anyone with much seriousness because my heart knew it was waiting for yours.” Legolas turns me slightly, so our eyes can meet again. “I would make up for my blindness, Meleth nín, if you wish it.”

I rest my forehead against his. “I wish it so, Meleth nín.”

Then his lips are pressing into mine, and this kiss that I have awaited many years is a summer thunderstorm, warm and wild, washing away everything that came before and paving the way for love to bloom.

Whatever our perilous path holds for us, I suddenly have all certainty that we can weather it.

Together.

Mae govannen = Well met

Gwathel/Gwador nín = Sworn sister/brother

Manen = How?

Mellon nín = My friend

Mar bedithach = When are you leaving?

Mîbo orch = Go kiss an orc

Losto mae = Sleep well

Nostad lín sui orch = You smell like an orc

Le hannon = Thank you

Carnen an gwend = For friendship

Avo ‘osto = Don't worry

Hîr nín = My Lord

Baren bar lin = My home is yours

Goheno nin = Forgive me

Ú-moe edaved = No need to forgive

Aphado nin = Follow me

Am man theled = Why?

Estelio nin = Trust me

Gerich faer vara = You have a fiery spirit

Le annon veleth nín = I give my love to you

Gerich veleth nín = You have my love

#legolas greenleaf #x reader #female reader #romance #mutual pining #first person perspective #legolas x reader #lotr x reader #lord of the rings #sweet #another one from a couple years ago ✌🏻#aragorn #good LORD this is fluffy I can't believe there's so little angst lol

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thewulf · 3 months

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My Purpose || Aragorn

Summary: Request - Can you do a Aragorn x Female Reader where she’s from earth not middle earth? Like the modern reader in middle earth trope? Reader dies in an accident of some sort and wakes up in a field in Rivendell. It’s right before everyone is gathering for the Council of Elrond... Read Rest Here

A/N: LOVED writing this one. Aragorn is just... the best. This one got away from me, as usual. Thank you for the requests!! Hope you like this as much as I loved writing this :) Love a good modern girl in middle earth trope!

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 7.5k +

TW: swords, blades, training, homesickness

It still didn’t seem real. The vast valley with flowing waterfalls where the light seemed to hit perfectly. Standing out on the balcony of the room you were given for however long you were permitted to stay you watched as the city ebbed and flowed throughout the day. You had no idea how long you sat there watching from the mansion of the home of the elf-man that had found you for you had no idea how to tell time here. You’d either lost you phone or the elves had taken it from you. The thought of actual elves sent shivers down your spine. It had only been a few days since you’d woken up in this place that definitely wasn’t close to home. There wasn’t even electricity that you could tell, at least not in your room. It wasn’t that you weren’t given the opportunity to leave you just didn’t want to. These elves were terribly intimidating, so beautiful and even the children seemed to stand taller than you.

Nobody had so much bothered you other than Elrond coming to check in on you a few times throughout each day with food in his hand each time. It wasn’t until the fourth day that he came without it.

“Miss Y/N.” He spoke at the open door leading to the balcony. He had tried knocking at the door a few times. He was more concerned than anything when you didn’t answer for it had become a sort of a routine at this point for him to greet you at your door. You never really wanted him to come in further, so you never invited him in.

You jumped slightly in your stupor being interrupted by your usual companion, “Lord Elrond. I’m sorry. I was just watching, didn’t hear you.”

He nodded before walking out to sit next to you on the bench you were already occupying, “Are you well? A friend of mine has told me you have been out here in a daze nearly all day.”

You turned your head to him with a small smile, “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“What ever about?” He pressed. You had been fairly tight lipped about how you ended up here. It’s not like you wish you couldn’t tell him about how you got here you just didn’t know. You were… different. Your clothing was something he had never seen. You had called them jean pants and a polyester blouse. You might have been speaking an entirely different language. Regardless he had given you back you clothes plus some elven dress clothes that he had hemmed shorter fort you. He was pleasantly surprised that on the third day you were wearing the newly provided elven clothes to your strange human clothes.

“Home. The memories are starting to become harder to recall. It’s weird. It’s like they’re all fuzzy. I’m afraid…” You swallowed back a frightening wave of emotions as you spoke to the kind elderly elf, “I’m afraid I will forget it all. My mom and dad. My friends and family. What it was like… It was nothing like this.”

He grabbed for your fidgeting hand that was clearly in distress, “Tell me what you can recall. I will not forget. I will tell you of your own memories.” He bowed his head towards you letting you know his utmost sincerity at the request.

Giving him a sad smile, you gave into his request finally. It did you no good to hide it all away and seem to forget it completely. Then you may never make it home. Telling him was really you only option at this point, “I miss my mom the most. We never got along the best when I lived at home, but we’ve become close after I’ve left home for school. I was just hoping that if I never make it home that she had some sort of closure.” You sighed feeling the weight of reality setting in. You thought maybe you would just wake up int you bed one morning but that was certainly not happening.

He cocked his head to the side, “You went off for school? Tell me about your mother. What was she like?” He pressed knowing you would crave these memories should you forget them for some odd reason. You were a puzzle for Elrond. He couldn’t connect the dots.

“Only once you become an adult. Once you turn eighteen you can enter the workforce full time or go to advanced education called college or university.” You paused thinking further about his second question. Your mother. What was she like? She was remarkable, “My mom is an angel. She thinks of those she loves above all else. She taught me how to be a good human. How to be kind in the face of adversity. How to face challenges head on and with a smile on my face. She’s the reason I’m not sitting here crying every day. But the thoughts of not seeing her again… I knew it would happen one day just not so soon. Not before I got married and had kids and… I’m sorry I’m rambling.” You quieted down almost afraid to look into his eyes once more.

“You are lucky to have her. Do not give up. We have not talked to Gandalf. He has just arrived and wishes to speak to you. He’s been informed of your strange arrival.” Elrond spoke hoping it would be easy to persuade you to come with him outside your room in his home.

“Gandalf?” You asked. It sounded so familiar. His name so strange yet I come right to the forefront of your mind as if you’d heard it before when he spoke it.

Elrond nodded holding out his hand to you, “He is a wizard. If anybody should have answers it would be him.”

“A wizard?” You’d remembered Harry Potter, maybe he could whisk you home through some Floo powder or something of the sort.

Elrond nodded his head, “A very dear old friend of mine. He may have better knowledge than I on your situation. I have scoured all the libraries of Imladris and could find no such cases as yours.”

You took his hand letting him lead you through his home and out the back towards the gardens you’d come to know and love in your short stay thus far. You opened and closed your mouth a few times to continue the conversation between you and Elrond, but you could not find the words to ask the question you wanted. When you finally stopped you were greeted by exactly what you pictured a wizard to look like. He looked like Dumbledore. Your heart warmed in comfort as his eyes crinkled into a smile.

“Y/N, my dear. Elrond has told me so much about you. It’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over towards you making sure to greet the both of you. His eyes, however, never left you. He was all too curious of the mortal human girl not from middle earth Elrond had told him so little about.

You dipped your head in slight unease over the entire ordeal. You, indubitably, knew that you were the talk of the town but to hear it out loud sent your heart racing. Being the middle child growing up meant you spent your life hidden and out of the way. Overshadowed by your older siblings accomplishments and overlooked for your younger siblings needs. You kind of felt like you were just floating by until you had moved out and your relationship had grown drastically with your mom and siblings.

“Uhm, likewise. Sir wizard.” You gave him that shy smile where your head tilted to the side trying to read him.

A subtle chuckle emanated from the elderly man’s lips, “You may call me Gandalf, dear Y/N. Now, we don’t have too much time before the council joins this afternoon for a final decision to be made. Come sit, Lord Elrond will join us. Start from the beginning, do you remember the last time you were home?” He led you to the small table in the garden that was likely used for afternoon tea, not for conversations such of these.

You knew you’d have to tell your story all over again so you might as well get it over with, “It was cold. A really cold and miserable day in Indiana. Middle of winter. Lots of snow. Blizzard like conditions.” You sighed recounting your seemingly last minutes on earth. You’d concluded you had died but it was weird to say it out loud. To admit your defeat, “There was a really bad accident on the road home. Big pileup. I was able to stop my car in time but the people behind me were not able to. My car was pushed under a semi where I was trapped. I don’t remember much else other than panicking because I couldn’t get out… My car started making weird noises. I’m pretty sure my engine exploded from being crushed in a way it shouldn’t have. I’m pretty sure I died.” You frowned accepting your death. God, you hoped your family had closure. That they were okay.

Gandalf bobbed his head considering your story, “What is a car? A semi? An engine?” He needed help with your strange words he’d never heard of before. Surely this was proof enough that you were from nowhere near here.

You laughed more to yourself than at his lack of knowledge, “Cars are new in my world. We were using horses and carriages not even a hundred years ago. A car uses and engine to propel forward instead of a horse. It uses some sort of fuel and ignition to propel cranks and wheels forward making your car go forward. A car is just an enclosed carriage. And a truck is just a massive car to transport goods.”

He continued listening to you, “That sounds like an unpleasant death.”

You hummed in agreement, “For what it’s worth I don’t remember it hurting. Just waking up here in the middle of a field. I’m fortunate to have run into his sons and not something more sinister from the sounds of it.”

Gandalf ran his hands along his beard, “Fortunate or you were placed for a reason. Curious.” He paused giving you another once over before continuing, “Elrond speaks as if you know of this world even though you may not be from here?” The old wizard pressed as his eyes bore into yours even though you couldn’t quite meet his gaze completely.

You agreed with him, “Yes, some things seem familiar. Like I’ve seen things here before.”

Elrond finally spoke up, “Tell him what you told me the other night. When you first got here.”

You turned your head looking between the two males, “I asked if you were gathering to talk about the ring.”

“How do you know of the ring?” Gandalf looked between you and Elrond with a perplexed expression on his face.

You shook your head trying to recall but the memories were becoming fuzzy. The further your time away from home the harder it was becoming to recall memories from your time there, “I believe it was a story of some sort where I’m from. We have books as well and it was a book written for entertainment.”

Gandalf eyed you before turning his attention to Elrond, “You must keep Y/N in your home. If you are correct and the fellowship is formed later we may need your knowledge before we partake on the quest. Even after.” The wizard’s eyes flashed with a newfound hope having you show up the most opportune of time. The more he thought about it the less curious you become. You were becoming more and more so seemingly a gift from Eru Ilúvatar himself.

Elrond bowed his head in acceptance of Gandalf’s decree, “How are your quarters now Lady Y/N? You may have an extended stay. I can move you to a different spot in the house if you would like.”

“That’s not necessary. The room is great.” You gave him a genuine smile and thumbs up before turning back to Gandalf, “But what about home? Lord Elrond said you may be able to get me home?” You asked with the same hope you seemed to give him.

But his frown told you all that you needed to know, “My child. You had died on your home. You have been given another chance. Likely because we prayed for you and you passed on too early in your own life.” He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze from his seat next to you.

Your eyes drifted down in that sadness you had been holding back. You knew that was somehow going to be the answer, but it still didn’t sting any less actually hearing it from him, “So I’m stuck here?” The question came out closer

Elrond took the liberty of grabbing for your hand trying to provide any sort of comfort, “You get to live out the rest of your life here.” Gandalf nodded knowing that was exactly what you didn’t want to hear.

“Can you tell me if my family got closure? They know I’ve passed?” You asked feeling squeezing Elrond’s hand right back, thankful he had given you that small amount of comfort. It had been days since you’ve had physical contact with anyone or anything. You thought you hated it but man did you miss it. You craved it.

The wizard gave you solemn shake of his head, “For that I cannot be certain young one. But I can be certain that you have been put here for a reason. You have been given another chance. I would not waste it.” Gandalf rose giving you and Elrond a bow before walking away, “I must take to conversation with Boromir before this afternoon. I shall see you in due time.” He waved more towards Elrond than you leaving you that much more confused than when you had started.

Your eyes upturned to Lord Elrond still holding your hand from the seat next to yours. His kind brown eyes had turned sympathetic in the news Gandalf had given you. All he could do was offer his own kindness to the ever out of place human girl giving him a crushed look, “You are more than welcome to stay here in Rivendell. Most of the residents and my children have decided to set sail as the time has come.”

“Thank you.” Giving him a small smile that hardly reached your cheeks you let the news consume you. You were quiet as he led you back to your room. Your official room now that you had zero plans of getting out of here. At least it was easily the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

“Lunch will be soon. Shall I bring you a plate or would you care to join me in the halls this time?” He asked pressing his luck once he had dropped you back off in your room.

“A plate is fine. Thank you again Elrond. I’d like to think on my own for a bit if you do not mind.”

“As you wish.” He bowed before gliding off. He sent one more concerned look before you shut yourself out from the elven world. Damn. You were stuck in a place called middle earth. Who would’ve thought this could’ve been your life?

You found yourself in the same gardens later that night after your handmaiden had brought you dinner. Flush with emotions you found yourself crying and not being able to stop once you’d found a somewhat secluded spot hidden away.

“Excuse me miss? Are you all right?” A man had asked breaking you out of your own head full of thoughts and tears. Your sniffles must have drawn the dark-haired strangers attention to your quiet corner that nobody had seemed to bother you in, until now.

You turned seeing that handsome man you had spotted a few times since the Council of Elrond had begun. You were all too curious what they discussed for hours on end, but it had to have been critical so many seemingly important people to gather to discuss matters. Wiping away your tears with the sleeves of the elven dress all you could do was nod rapidly, “I am okay. Just terribly overwhelmed is all.”

He cocked his head to the side looking you over, “You speak differently than any human woman I have talked to. You must be the mortal girl Elrond has spoken of?” You did not have the height nor the ears to be an elf he concluded. But, you certainly had the beauty to rival an elf. Aragorn was quite taken aback at your doe-eyed expression on his even though your eyes were blood-shot from the many tears you had spilt.

Letting out a laugh you could only agree with him, “If only you know how weird you sound to me too. But yes, I am.” You confirmed by meeting your eyes with his icy blue ones. You pushed back your rushing thoughts of just how stunning this stranger was. Everybody here in this middle earth seemed otherworldly. Beautiful beyond belief. A far cry from your home however far away it was.

His eyes roamed over you for the first time up close. He had seen you sitting on the balcony from Elrond’s residence a few times in the few days he’d arrived. But this was the first he’d seen the other worldly girl up close and personal. Elrond made no mention of your simple beauty. Your big, beautiful eyes laced in a red stain from the tears you’d been clearly crying made his heart twist unexpectantly.

He too was in the process of grieving a loss of his own. His Arwen, his first love, had taken to sailing away. Truly, he had no idea what she would choose in the end and chose the best for herself and her family. He could never blame her, no. He pushed her to go do exactly that. He would always have love in his heart for the ellith he could never have. How blissful were the few years he got to spend with her… they were everything and more. But she had to go. Elrond, her father, pushed her off a few months ago and that was that for him. He was no stranger to the sadness in your expression.

“Dare I ask why?” The man walked towards you stopping just shy. Closer than any of the other elves or man had dared to step to you. Other than Lord Elrond, your healer, and Ioanoa, your handmaiden, assigned to you by the lord for the time being.

His eyes looked innocent enough. Might as well tell him as you really didn’t have anything to lose anymore. You’ve already lost it all, “I am forgetting everything of my home. I barely remember my mom’s face now. I’m worried I’ll forget it all. I have to accept that this is my new life. I just… I never got to say goodbye. I can’t remember everyone anymore, but I know I had people I loved, I just feel it.”

He contemplated what to say for a moment as he had never come across a situation so complex as yours before. He did not know what to tell you. He could never fathom your situation. Essentially dying in your own reality to wake up in something so different only to forget where you came from? Aragorn shuddered at the thought. He might’ve even gone mad at the thought.

“Fear not. They will not forget you. They will always be looking for you or have thoughts of you. You may forget the fine details of them, but you will never forget of them and their love. Like you said, you can feel it.” He placed a hand over his heart praying his words offered you some sort of comfort.

You looked down wiping the fresh tears away, “What if they do forget me?”

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder drawing your eyes back up to him, “From what I hear it sounds like your mother had much love for you. As long as she walks in her world she will have love for you. As long as you walk in middle earth you will have love for her.” Aragorn was nervous as he met your eyes once more. He felt relief wash over him as you kept his gaze and gave him a gentle smile. You weren’t mad, not in the slightest. You looked relieved at his words.

“Thank you, sir.” You had yet to get or catch his name. You’d learned of a few of the other members through Elrond’s stories, but he had yet to come up. He seemed to be human. You couldn’t spot anything that made him stand out as anything other than. But who new in this middle earth.

He returned your soft smile with one of his own, “Aragorn is my name.”

“Thank you, Aragorn. Mine is Y/N.” His eyes remained on yours as you couldn’t keep ahold of his gaze. He was daunting in the best way. Handsome beyond belief. Words of advice more than you can dream of. Smarter than any man on earth you’d had to converse with. You’d been talking to him for less than thirty minutes, yet you had deduced he was the entire package. The first man you’d met on this planet was far better than any man on your earth.

He nodded taking a seat at the bench you were previously occupying, “Would it be rude of me to say that I already knew of that? You have been quite the discussion amongst the fellowship and council.”

You continued to stand there unsure of if you should join him or not. Would it be weird if you just stood there? Would it be weird to sit on the already small bench with him? Thankfully he must have seen your dilemma as he patted the seat next to you, inviting you to sit next to him. Trying not to make things more awkward for yourself you obliged sitting down next to him before continuing the conversation, “You all talk about me?”

He broke out into a cheeky grin, “Aye. You are most of the conversation. We cannot figure you out.”

Oh, was that all this was? He was simply trying to figure you out? That deflated whatever hope you had right then and there, “There’s not much to figure out. I’m a girl not meant to be here.” The tone of your voice came out more bitterly than it had prior sending Aragorn on edge. Had he said something?

“Indeed. That’s the perplexing part. Why are you here?” He asked more to himself than to you. A question nobody could seem to answer for a sure fact.

You shrugged, “Has to be by mistake.”

He shook his head, “I do not believe so. Nothing happens by chance here. The Valar have placed you here for a reason. We may not know now but we will soon figure it out.”

You let out a soft laugh, “How different your world is than mine.” Failing to elaborate you just looked ahead longing for your home. It was lovely here, but it wasn’t home. Even though you forgot most of what made home, home. You still longed for something you couldn’t completely remember.

“What do you miss the most of your home?” He asked hoping that talking about it would help take your mind away from the sadness that seemed to be overcoming you. Talking to you was helping him immensely. He had no idea how heavy the council’s discussions had been plus the loss of his love was weighing heavily on him. But talking to you seemed to help even if he didn’t even realize it.

“I think it’s my family and friends. As boring and monotonous my life was my family and friends were just down the road or a drive away.” You frowned having a sinking feeling you’d never see you best friend or brother again. You’d never get to tell your mom and dad how much you loved them.

He nodded, “I live a very… nomadic life. I understand the heaviness your heart undergoes. My love, she left not too long ago. I have been wandering ever since she set sail.” Aragorn admitted to you. It came out all too easily. You had admitted what was making you sad it felt too natural to do the same. He wanted to be vulnerable with you. So different from how he felt with nearly everyone since Arwen had left.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. You felt guilty for talking about you when his heart was hurting just as much as yours, “I’m so sorry. I have never truly been in love. I can’t imagine how that feels. I hope it gets easier for you.”

“Talking to you helps, my lady.” He smiled grabbing for your hand hesitantly. When you didn’t pull away he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “You are a great mystery, fascinating beyond belief, seemingly selfless and kinder than the day is long. As sad as you are I hope that you can find the beauty in middle earth too.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” You looked away sure that there was a blush coating your cheeks, “I do find it beautiful here. Your world is not polluted like mine is. The air is fresh, the animals are plentiful, the water is safe. It is like an old version of a world that humans have not destroyed.”

He frowned, “Just humans?”

“Yep. There are no elves or dwarves or hobbits where I’m from. There are no evil monsters or magic or any kind, that I know of. Just humans and a polluted world.” You hummed missing your messy home.

He looked at your warily, “I will not lie, that sounds miserable miss Y/N.”

You laughed, your hand was still sitting in his comfortably, “We know no different. It is rather boring compared to all of this.”

He cracked a more genuine smile than you had seen from him yet, “You are honest. Be careful.”

You sighed, “Here too?”

“Bad people take advantage of good ones.” He nodded his head solemnly, “You are fine in Rivendell though. The elves will treat you well, as a novelty.”

You scrunched your eyes trying to figure out why, “Why? Because I’m a human?”

“Your entire lifetime is less time than it takes for them to mature to adulthood. There is nothing that anyone here could want from you other than to learn about mortality.”

You blinked at him, “Are elves immortal?”

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Indeed.”

“Oh, wow.” You gulped at the knowledge.

“In fact, humans have the shortest span among sentient creatures in middle earth.” He said as if you weren’t already a little more than freaked out by the new revelation of the home you had been invited too earlier in the day.

Considering his words you continued along, “Makes you feel a little useless.”

He continued looking at you as you got vulnerable with him in turn, “On the positive side, nothing you can do can’t be undone. It cannot be messed up too severely.”

Your smile reached your eyes for the first time since you’d landed in middle-earth thanks to this handsome man, “I like your optimism Aragorn.”

He reached for your hand like Elrond had earlier giving it a soft squeeze, “I heard the news of your guidance from Gandalf. I am sorry your life on your earth was cut short to be here. But I am thankful for the gift we have been given. I am sure you have heard of the formation of the fellowship by now. It will be but a few fortnights before we depart as we prepare. I hope to see you soon before we are set to depart.” He spoke as he knew the journey to Mordor would be long and deadly.

“I am planning to attempt to pick up a sword here tomorrow with Elladan as a teacher here tomorrow at sunrise. If Elrond doesn’t have you busy then maybe you would care to join us?” You invited him taking any chance at the opportunity to spend time with him.

He bowed his head slowly at you, “I will see to it. Until then, lady Y/N it has been a pleasure talking with you this evening.” He stood pulling you up with him, “I trust that you can make it back to your chambers on your own?” He looked around hesitantly knowing it was perfectly safe here in Rivendell. Likely safer than anywhere on your home earth considering the elves were guarding it.

“I can. Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.” You waved as he walked away. As much as you tried you couldn’t erase the silly little smile that crossed your face as you walked back to your room.

Aragorn was not there when you and Elladan began to train. Nobody had informed you how downright exhausting it was to hold a sword, defend yourself and attack all at the same time. You’d never felt so damn weak before as you worked up a sweat within minutes of beginning the session ordered by Elrond. Lord Elrond was going to see through on his promise to Gandalf. He was going to keep you safe. Who knew how you fit into the puzzle of destroying the ring and saving middle earth? Keeping you safe meant making sure meant knowing how to wield a weapon.

“Not bad, keep your eyes moving though. Someone could sneak up right beside you and strike.” You heard that same voice from last night. He kept true to his word by placing a dull blade against your rib cage. One more move and he could slice into your side if he wasn’t careful. But you had the feeling he was being more than careful.

You took the opportunity to rest and lowered the heavy blade you’d been sparring Elladan with and turned to the taller human male next to you, “Spare me. This is the first time I’ve picked one of these up.” You motioned to the dull blade meant for sparring, “These are heavier than they look.”

“You are faring quite well for it being the first time you picked up a blade.” Elladan smiled taking a few steps back seeing the way Aragorn was watching you. It was the same way he had watched over his sister after they had professed a love for one another. A spark that had vanished after Arwen left nearly half a year ago. Yet here you were. A human girl not even born under the Valar, hand-picked by Eru Ilúvatar to be here, giving Aragorn a hope that he so desperately needed before this quest.

You laughed after catching your breath, “You are just being nice. I’m an out of shape mess.”

Elladan took a few more steps back while shrugging his shoulders, “You’re a natural then, my lady. Forgive me. I must go. I see my father calling. I see that Aragorn can continue your lessons?”

You being none the wiser simply shrugged looking between the two of them who had funny expressions written on their faces as you waited for his answer, “I do not see Lord Elrond summoning you.” Aragorn raised his eyebrows challenging the ellon as he knew what Elladan was playing at. For he might have been accused by the twins for harboring a liking towards you after the few interactions he actually had. Aragorn, naturally, refuted it as he hadn’t even properly talked to you until last night. But even he knew that sentiment was growing truer the more he spent time with you. The weird speaking mortal girl from a different world.

Elladan offered a soft chuckle, “He’s already retreated. Need not worry Aragorn. You’ll take it from here?” He asked this time before actually walking away.

“Aye, Elladan. I’ll take it from here.” He waved him off before turning to you, “Why don’t we start you with a blade more suitable to your size?” He asked before leading you off towards the equipment area.

“Are you calling me weak Mr. Aragorn?” You grinned feeling suddenly giddy you’d gotten him alone twice in such a short period of time. Your mood was rubbing off on your attitude. Even though you were already tired, sweaty, and felt gross you were thrilled for the sudden change of instructor.

He shook his head quickly while searching for something smaller for you, “Nay my lady. The blade you were yielding is far too big for you. We just need to find you something more in line with your arms. For a blade is but an extension of your arm.” You watched as he sorted through the different blades lining the walls before pulling one that hadn’t been used in some time down, “This will do quite nice for you.” He handed it to you for you to get a feel for.

It was far lighter in your hands as you held it and swished the air quietly in front of you, “You were right. This is very nice.”

He grinned seeing you able to hold the blade far easier than you had the man-made sword that was far heavier than an elf-made on you were holding, “Keep that with you. Elrond will want to see that later. I think he’ll get a laugh at who used to own that particular sword.”

“Used to?” You questioned placing the lighter blade in a sheath at your hip.

His eyes crossed with an unfamiliar emotion as he nodded his head, “Indeed. Elves take nothing with them when they sail to the Undying Lands.”

You just looked at him with confusion in your eyes, “I’m going to need you to elaborate on this Undying Lands place.”

He sighed knowing you were clueless when it came to middle earth and its customs, but it didn’t make the thought of where Arwen was off living any less painful. Not that it was your fault for asking, “It is where most immortals go when they are called. After their lives on middle earth are complete. Most elves go. My Arwen was called not too long ago.” He added knowing he didn’t need to. But he wanted to. Something about you made him feel comfortable enough to delve deeper with you.

“I’m sorry she could not stay with you.”

“I am too.” He smiled to you knowing just talking about it with you was healing for him as well, “But it is for the best. She does not fit into this world any longer.”

You walked with him back out to the training fields that were slowly getting busier with random groups of different elves alike training and practicing, “Can I tell you my thoughts?” You asked him after a long while of comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Always, my lady.” He pulled his own training sword out of its own sheath waiting for your next words carefully.

You mimicked his actions, “That sounds like a miserably long life. At least where I’m from. That would be so tiring.”

He held his sword up waiting for you to mimic him, “I must agree. It makes sense why they take yearlong breaks then, no?” Aragorn laughed as he watched you more easily following along to his stances and postures.

“I’d still like to take a yearlong break.” You admitted earning another beautiful laugh from the handsome man that was becoming more of a friend than a stranger. The rest of the morning went as such. Aragorn showing you a few moves before he had your try it out in practice on him. Elladan wasn’t lying, you had a natural skill with the blade. A few of your maneuvers caught him off guard for you being so new, nothing he couldn’t deflect. But your potential was there.

As he walked you back to Lord Elrond’s residence he decided to break the growing comfortable silence that seemed to occur more often than not in your presence, “You did well today, Lady Y/N. You are very much a natural with the blade.” He complimented you as you got closer to the residences front doors where he knew he would have drop you off. Surely your handmaiden would be there waiting to take you off to your next venture. He’d watched as you started as a cooped up and frightened girl who opted to stay in your chambers rather than show her face but in the week he had been here he had seen you slowly open up to the outside world after you’d seen it could cause you no harm.

Your heart rate sped up at his words. You spun on your heals once you made it to the door, “Thank you Aragorn. I had a wonderful instructor who showed me the way.” You giggled seeing a small blush rise to his cheeks at your kind words.

Aragorn was right that he would have to give you at the doorway, but he wasn’t expecting a usually busy Lord Elrond to be waiting, “There you are. You said you’d be back before lunch. It is nearly dinner.” He knew you were in perfectly capable hands being with Aragorn. He asked more to tease his friend more so than scold you. For it was not only his sons who had noticed his growing affections towards you, but Elrond had noticed as well. He’d missed nearly an entire day’s worth of meetings to train you. But Elrond also had the utmost faith in the future king to be making the right decisions. If that meant spending the day with the beautiful mortal girl then that’s what he was going to do.

You looked down in embarrassment for being called out on your tardiness so forthright, “Ah, my apologies. We got carried away with the lessons.” You patted your side letting him know you had quite literally been training for the last ten hours.

Lord Elrond smiled at the both of you, “I am sure Aragorn had his reasons. Now come, we are already late for dinner.” He pulled you inside where you only could wave to him before Elrond had closed the door after bidding his own goodbye. Elrond gave you a wicked smirk as he led you down to the dining room on the other side of his residence.

“What’s that look for?” You asked trying to play off your absence as training and nothing more, that’s all it was, right?

“No reason. None at all. Nothing to do with Master Aragorn.” He grinned letting you through the door before him.

“It was training!” You tried to defend yourself before the twins barged in on your conversation.

Elladan scoffed at the table, “Hardly. You couldn’t wait to push e

You gave him an exasperated look, “You were the one who ran away!”

“I could no longer stand the longing looks between the two humans.” Elladan smiled knowing he was changing the story to fit his narrative better.

“Oh whatever.” You grumbled grabbing for the salad that sat in the middle of the table earning a round of laughs from all the elves who had happily taken you into their home.

You walked into the hall that contained the sword that eliminated Sauron the first time, Isildur’s blade. And there he was, the man that you had been looking for sitting there staring at the blade that clearly haunted him. He must have lost track of time thinking as he promised to continue training the next day, the day before leaving on the quest.

“Elrohir said I could find you here.” You spoke quietly hoping not to startle him.

He jumped slightly. His head turned to you giving you a bow, “I have been spending quite a bit of time in here.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, pressing.

He sighed, “Thinking. About the ring. The quest. The danger. The hobbits. All of it.” He admitted letting the weight of it crash, “My susceptibility to the ring.” He added as you stepped closer to him.

“But you are not him, Isildur. Lord Elrond told me all about him, he knew him! You are nothing like him Aragorn.” You gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before he shook you off gently.

That haunted look was still superimposed on his face, “It is his blood running through my veins as his did! Weak!” He sounded more upset than you had grown to see him in the few weeks you had gotten to know him.

“That’s untrue. You may have the same blood as him, but you are far from weak. You simply admitting that you are susceptible to its evils proves you to be anything but weak Aragorn. You are stronger than any man on my earth and any middle earth man I’ve come to know, although it’s not too many.” You laughed off the last bit hoping he would see his strength that had helped you grow further than you could’ve imagined in your short time here.

He looked at you with a new look as he heard your words. A look filled with adoration and love, “How do you know exactly what to say?” His eyes frantically searched your face as he realized your purpose being here was to help him as well. You were doing a flawless job at it. First with Arwen and now his insecurities surrounding the ring. How did you do it?

You smiled taking his hands in yours. Carefully, one by one, you snaked your fingers in between his before locking them down in your grip. You prayed it gave him some of the comfort he had given you over the last few weeks, “It’s easy with you.” It came out as more of whisper. You knew he had lingering feelings for the ellith he could no longer have. Why couldn’t you take her place?

You watched as he gulped. His eyes moved from your hands laced in between his, “Are you still searching for your purpose, my lady?” He asked as he took a daring step forward towards you. He heard as you breath got caught in your throat at his overly bold action.

You shook your head slowly, “I am not. I have found it.”

He nodded his head. Slowly he broke his hand away from yours. In place he brushed away the stray hairs that had been coated to your cheeks. The wind had displaced the stray hairs that blocked your view unknowingly. He relished in his touch on your warm, soft skin. He noticed the way your skin erupted in goosebumps under his touch, a physical reaction letting him know you felt the same way as he had. It had amazed him how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you over the short time he had known you. With Arwen it was slow and took years only to crush him in the end. But with you it was fast but steady. Quicker than he anticipated but it made sense to him.

“May I ask what it is, my lady?” He brushed his hand along your cheek enjoying the way you seemed to squirm under his touch.

You closed your eyes knowing you wouldn’t be able to take it back but what did you have to lose? He was leaving with most of your new friends anyway. Might as well lay it out on the line, “Helping the fellowship, trying to guide Gandalf, you. Many such purposes.”

He cracked that smile that you’d grown to find a great comfort in, “I was hoping you may say that.” He didn’t dare drop his hand as he let his large hand cup your face. Your eyes fluttered closed as his pointer finger rubbed back and forth underneath your ear. It was like a form of kryptonite you did not know you had, “You know I must guide Frodo on this quest. But I can promise you that I will come back as soon as I can to you. For you are my purpose too, Lady Y/N.” He grinned loving the way that you seemed to melt right into his touch. As heartbroken as he felt from the loss of Arwen it did feel like you were sent here to mend his wounds right on up. He was not kidding. He found a purpose in you. His purpose.

Your eyes opened up looking into his once more, fully letting yourself fall into his touch, “My purpose.” You nuzzled your head into his calloused hand that had seen more battles than you could ever even imagine. For as difficult as your transition was into an entirely different world he had made it that much easier. You’d found it. He was it. Your purpose.

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