#Arwen cut

[twicearoundthebend]

you’re telling me they filmed a whole conversation between Legolas and Arwen in Rivendell and we never got to see it?? I’m breaking into the archives myself istg

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Elrond is Not Noldo, a colourised guide

Maia, Sinda, Noldo, Vanya, Beor, Hador

Melian - Thingol Nolofinwë - Anairë Lúthien - Beren Turgon - Elenwe Dior - Nimloth Tuor - Idril Elwing - Eärendil Elrond

Elrond: 31.25% Sinda 25% Hador 15.625% Vanya 12.5% Beor 9.375% Noldo 6.25% Maia

56.25% elf, 37.5% man, 6.25% maia.

Arwen’s genetics under cut (for fun)

Teler

Galadriel - Celeborn Celebrian - Elrond Arwen

Arwen: 40.625% Sinda 14.0625% Vanya 12.5% Teler 12.5% Hador 10.9375% Noldo 6.25% Beor 3.125% Maia

78.125% elf, 18.75% man, 3.125% maia.

[shirefantasies]

How would the fellowship, Thorin, Fili, Kili, Haldir, Arwen and Eomer react to someone they like who always calls everyone by cute names like ‘love’, ‘babe’, ‘hon’, ‘darling’ etc.

Oooh, good question! I’m going to split this up into LoTR & The Hobbit imagines for the whole casts if that’s all right 😄

LoTR Characters When You Call Everyone Pet Names

Aragorn

His favorite part of your habit, in all honesty, is other people’s reactions. The first time you do it to him he sort of quirks up a brow, but others take it more extremely, offense or otherwise. He gets protective, though, if those others respond taking it too far. He’ll step in front of you if they start flirting with you or try to touch you unbidden even if you’re just friends at that point. No matter who in his group that is, unacceptable. At the use of a regular name slid into the flows of your conversation, something akin to "Oh, honey, you have no idea", his lips quirk up and privately he wonders if you’ve ever meant it.

Legolas

Your first meeting is you brushing past him at Rivendell with an "Excuse me, darling". Needless to say he stares after you with wide eyes because you must know him, but from where? Then you greet Elrond with an enthusiastic "Sweetheart, how I have missed you", and while the Lord of Imladris appears aware of the affront, he is also amused. Clearly this is simply your manner. Because of this, he accepts it without much overthought, though your pet names never fail to bring a smile to the elf prince's lips.

Boromir

The kindness you show him almost breaks him- is he worthy of your honeyed words? "Easy, dear heart, the troubles you carry are not even your own, are they?" The part of him tempted to lash out almost wins, but at the end of the day, you are right. All he can do is shake his head. He's heard you say call such sweet names before, but alongside your other words they pierce his heart like nothing before. He bids you sit by his side. "Wish me to speak or to listen?" You ask, and that is when Boromir knows he has fallen for you.

Gimli

"Who are you calling sweetheart, darling?" Offended as he may be, Gimli also takes it as a challenge of sorts, leaning in closer with smug satisfaction. It becomes a sort of tension for you both, an odd banter of affectionate nicknames tossed out even with the bloodiest challenges. "Cut his head off, Gimli darling!" "Wouldn't dream of doing any less, dear!" Gimli begins getting offended as your habit pops out with others, asking you pointedly what you think you're doing calling the elf sweetheart. "What's he done to earn that, eh?" Leaning in, your noses almost brushing, you give him a smile dripping with smug mock-sweetness. "I thought you didn't enjoy being called that." "Well," he crosses his arms stubbornly, eyes falling away from yours, "I suppose I've gotten used to it now."

Frodo

"Frodo, my sweet, please eat just a bit more for me, I worry so." Frodo's heart does a somersault- he's made sure notice of your habit by now, heard you speak your darlings and sweethearts aplenty. You often said it to tease the others when spirits were light or when you cared for them, but that was not all. The words my sweet were reserved for him. Everyone else got a plethora, it seemed, but him, and it vexed him in the best way possible, twisting his heart like nothing else. The sound of it was like a balm to Frodo, and he dared hope it held the meaning he dearly wished it to, for he was too shy to ask it of you just yet.

Sam

“Sam, love, pass me the ladle, if you please.” Samwise, thinking his heart might burst from his chest and run right up to you, pauses, speaks carefully. “What was that?” He asks, your name falling softly, almost delicately, from his lips. He’d heard the way you tease people before, usually addressing them as ‘my dear’. This was something else. The smile you gave him in response, too, was practically enough to kill him- could you tell? “I just asked if I might borrow the ladle, love.” Yep, the jig was up now.

Merry

“It’s got to be some sort of custom.” “That or you’ll be very, very wrong.” You arched a private brow over Merry and Pippin’s back-and-forth whispering, but thought nothing more of it until your next interaction with the blonde hobbit. “Merry, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Looking up from his knife, he held up a small chunk of wood with a strangely cocky grin. “Just a bit of whittling, dear.” Something about the roguish look he gave you, the confidence with which he adopted your habit, had your heart fluttering; you faltered a bit in your response before you sat at his side. Unbeknownst to you, he was elbowing Pippin triumphantly on the other side.

Pippin

His heart soars the first time he hears you call him honey. No matter what attacks you or what happens that day, day made. Then he hears you saying "No put that down, Merry sweetheart" and it all comes crashing to the ground because he’d gotten it into his head that he was special- was he wrong? He had to have been. When the words so easily pass between your lips again, this time in the form of '"Gimli dear, let me see that", hurt mingles with realization of your manner- that is just how you are. Moments pass, thoughts drifting by as clouds deciding whether or not to storm, before Pippin makes up his mind: he'll make known his interest, try everything he can until he truly does stand out.

Faramir

Publicly he barely humors it, trying to keep a tough face when his seniors or especially his father are present. Privately? It amuses him. Pleases his heart to see one with light spirits in the face of everything. Your ways make you something of an anchor, a reminder why he does the things that he does. You make Faramir laugh and he knows Boromir enjoys your company too- the three of you together form an escape that reminds Faramir of his younger days. And perhaps that happiness you always brings him has slowly metamorphosed, glimmering with hope every time you call him dear.

Eomer

This man, a military leader, and you call him honey? Eomer is shaken up honestly. He can’t even be annoyed because he’s too busy freezing with a slight frown upon his face. Wits coming back about him, he opens his mouth to question you, ask in his blunt way why you address him so... then you turn around and call his sister my dearest and oh, perhaps he was truly overthinking it. He laughs it off, swears to put it out of his head...but the mental image of you calling him a name of endearment plays over and over again whether he wills it or not.

Haldir

“And what has our precious jewel brought to us now?” Since discovering Haldir bristled a bit at your little names, you had decided to find the most ridiculous ones possible for the marchwarden. It worked every time, too, judging by the furrow of his brow. “They go to the Lady of Lórien,” he replied simply, not to be goaded so easily. The man he seemed to know the best, the ranger, exchanged looks of amusement with you. “And what do you have to say for yourself, my dear?” You asked the man. Just as you suspected, Haldir’s expression darkened a bit further- perhaps he had gotten a bit more used to his names than he let on. At that, you couldn’t help a chuckle and a smirk.

Eowyn

Though she may not voice it, she is questioning of your ways at first because she has firsthand experience of people using words as weapons, saying whatever they can to influence others’ will. So sure, call her dear but you will get nothing of her she does not want to give. The day this changes is actually when you call her brother a pet name and he’s shocked and the wide look in her eyes has both of you laughing in a way you usually do not. She envies your carefree ways and from that moment on enjoys basking in them. It is impossible to help the way her heart gives a little flutter whenever a 'dear' or 'my darling' is directed her way, however...

Arwen

The surprise she fixes you with upon playfully addressing her as ‘my pretty’ encourages you, if you are being honest. It’s a pleasant look, flattered and floored, that you think a lady like Arwen deserves to make again and again. As a result, while everyone else gets a casual darling or dear, you make it your mission to fluster Arwen as much as possible. “Ah, treasure, how has this day treated you so far?” She flushes. “…Well, I say. Thank you. And I wish you to know that you are no less than you say I am. The way you speak to me? It can also be said of yourself.”

Elrond

You are caring. Parental. As a father of three, Elrond appreciates the way you speak gently and warmly. Assist his healed patients with soft whispers of be free of your pain, dear heart. As he granted you leave to use his name rather than My Lord you still slip up at times…until it becomes quite the opposite and a good night, dear slips from your lips upon parting for the evening. Elrond accepts and assures your every apology with an affectionate smile, shocking himself with the realization that his feelings for you are much stronger than he had allowed himself awareness of.

[fuctacles]

someone (thank you) has paid for my bday cake before i could share the link, but if you want, you can pitch in for new headphones for me as a gift ofc no pressure, you being here is a gift enough <3

<< ten | 😺 | twelve >>

To say Eddie is nervous would be an understatement of the century. His soul is one bump in the road away from skipping out of his body, leaving him alone to deal with whatever is happening inside his brain. Which is a lot on a regular day, but today, all his synapses and wires and whatever the fuck are screaming at him, you kissed Steph oh my gods, this is real, this is happening, oh no, Wayne is gonna be so smug about this!!!

No party hook up or any of his short-term girlfriends has made him this nervous. Because no offense to them, but they were young and simple and easy to understand. Steph, he might get to some extent—trans woman rejected by her family, feeling alone despite having a group of devoted friends, all of them scattered through states—but what she wants from life is surely different from finishing college and going on a summer trip. Right?

"Would you want to do it again?" he asks, hands shifting on the wheel. It's a good place to start.

"Your hair?" She gives him a fleeting glance. "Of course, it's nice to work with."

Eddie purses his lips. 

"Kiss. I meant the kiss," he clarifies. "Well, and anything that... might come with it." He winces at his own wording.

Steph murmurs something that sounds like "oh god" under her breath.

"Listen..." She drums her fingers against the bag in her lap. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Anything that involved you has been a good idea so far," he counters lightly. When she turns to look at him, he gives her a soft smile.

She nods slowly. 

"Okay, and how do you imagine that? You fuck me and then we awkwardly pass each other on the stairs? How do I look Wayne in the eye?"

Eddie winces. In his ideal fantasy, Wayne doesn't know until the wedding invitations get send out. 

"Well, unless I do something mortally embarrassing, I can't imagine an outcome where I wouldn't want to at least stay friendly and talk to you." He finally turns into their parking lot and goes silent as he looks for an empty space. Once parked, he kills the engine and turns to properly look at Steph. "What are you really worried about?"

She sighs, and when she looks up, her eyes are big and open, striking him right into his heart. 

"So many things," she admits.

"Tell me one of them," Eddie prompts. 

Steph quickly opens her mouth, almost aggressively, but clamps it shut just as fast. Her thoughtful frown tells him she's looking for something different to share. 

"I don't want to be a conquest, a one night stand. I don't do that, I don't do hook ups, to be honest I haven't had—" she cuts herself off abruptly, and her cheeks turn pink. 

Eddie tries to push down the sympathy from showing on his face, but it's hard to do. In his perfect world, he'd give her all the orgasms she deserves and then some. 

"And I don't want to be someone you can fuck whenever you visit Hawkins," she adds abruptly, rushing it out of her mouth like another forbidden thought. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

"Do you think I'm so swarmed with opportunities in Indy that I can't pause my libido for a week?" he asks, almost amused by the idea.

"I don't know, Eddie!" She throws her hands up angrily. "I don't know you! And you don't know me."

"I know some of you," he insists. "I know your cats are Garfield, Dart, and Arwen. Your best friend is a lesbian named Robin, I know you're still friends with nerds you used to babysit, and that you like Star Wars. I know what kind of beer you buy, and that your couch is ridiculously soft. I know that you want to give your salon to Joyce and open a new one in Indy," he lists off. "And I'd like to know more." 

"No you don't."

Eddie holds himself back from throwing hands up in frustration as well. Maybe he didn't kiss her hard enough. 

"Well, you don't know me, so how would you know?" He never means to get irritated by her, but she's just so—ugh.

Steph presses her mouth into a thin line. 

"Let's just go in," she says, opening her door to leave the van.

Eddie curses under his breath, scrambling to gather his things and follow her. They don't talk, ruminating in their conversation (argument?), but she walks the stairs slowly, so his smoker lungs and barely used joints can keep up. It gives him hope that she's not really mad, and he could kiss her again in the near future. 

She stops on his floor, where they are meant to part.

"Do you want that conditioner?" she asks. 

For a second, his brain struggles to catch up, but he's nodding before it even clicks. Anything to keep her coming back. 

"Yeah, that would be great, thank you." He smiles, only slightly embarrassed by how out of breath he sounds. 

Steph nods, turning to the next flight of stairs, leading up towards her floor. 

"I'll call you when I find it. Thank you for today." And she smiles, finally, even if it's not as joyful as he'd like. 

"Thank you." He smiles more freely, fighting the instinct to nonchalantly lean against the handrail. It's not an ending of a date, after all. "And I was being serious, earlier. With—"

"I know," she interrupts him. "I know." She puts her feet on the first step, not looking at him. "I'll see you later."

"Will you think about it?" he asks before she can disappear, her pace much faster now that she doesn't have an Eddie-shaped ball chained to her ankle. Damn jock blood. 

Steph stops mid-way, turning to him with a slightly pitying smile that makes his insides churn. 

"Oh, Eddie," she sighs. "I think about it all the time."

For a while longer, he stays rooted to the spot, in the middle of his landing. Hopeful, turned on, but most of all, confused, listening to her steps fade out. 

When he finally turns back into their apartment, Wayne must sense something, because for once he doesn't bother him with questions and teasing remarks. Instead, he does something much, much worse, while he's pulling on the soft ends of Eddie's conditioned hair.

"You're going back next week, right?"

Because Eddie kind of forgot about that. That it's not some liminal time vacuum when he's just his uncle's kid again, driving through familiar streets, seeing faces that have known him since he was a young teen. He tends to do that, whenever visiting Wayne. Life in Indianapolis is great, but it's fast, loud and busy, so the contrast always make him feel like he's in a hazy dream. Like his life is on pause. 

Wayne is heartless in reminding him about the, so called, real life. Eddie sighs. 

"When is the appointment again? Wednesday?" He looks at the calendar on the fridge.

"Thursday," Wayne corrects him. "At 11." 

Eddie nods slowly, humming to himself. 

"We should stock up on the way back. So you don't have to strain your leg while I'm not here." He pats his uncle's knee, swiftly avoiding a kick with the cast after he does it. "How long until you can go back to work?"

"Two weeks, probably." Wayne shrugs. "Depends on what the doctor says. But I'm so ready to leave the house," he groans. "I'm bored out of my mind. Is this how you feel all the time?"

Eddie laughs. 

"Pretty much," he grins. "Should we grab some movies before I leave, too?"

"Please."

It's hours before the phone rings, and he's put it out of his mind, assuming Steph would want a break from him. But as soon as he hears it, he's up and walking towards the kitchen.

"Ed!" his uncle calls from the couch.

"On it!" he yells back before picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, I found the conditioner. Do you want to come up or should I drop it on my way to work tomorrow?" Steph sounds normal, like nothing weird has happened between them. He's not sure is a good or bad sign for him. 

"I'll come up, no problem," he answers quickly. "Is right now okay?"

"Yeah, I'm not doing anything."

"Okay, see you in ten."

When he puts down the phone, he can hear his heart pounding in his chest. He turns to the mirror hanging in the dark corridor and fixes what he can see, any stray hair or weirdly shifted clothes. But upon further consideration, he goes to the bathroom, where he can check his face and teeth under better light.

"I'm going out," he informs his uncle as he slides on his shoes. 

Wayne shifts to look at him, eyebrows raised curiously.  

"To where?"

"Steph's, I need to pick something up. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, don't trip until then."

"Come closer so I can hit you with the crutch," Wayne glowers at him. "I'll handle a walk to the bathroom, you keep the lady some company." He waves him off, turning back to the TV. "Before she goes mad talking to her cats all the time."

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

"Well, in that case, I'll be back when I'm back." He grins. "Later! And goodnight, possibly. Maybe, I don't know." Eddie loses steam by the end of it, but his uncle believes in him. The kid always had a talent for being charming when he wanted to. 

He settles comfortably in his seat. 

"Goodnight, lover boy," he chuckles.

tagsies:

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets

@bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore @icecat

[edges-of-night]

Hii! <3

I wanted to request imagines for reader taking care of the lotr characters (preferably all, but if that’s too much then at least the women and maybe Aragorn and Faramir too) when they’re sick/injured for whatever reason

(I love your imagines so much, the way you characterize them all is so perfectly amazing💜)

Thank you for your kind words! I did all of my usual characters because I love hurt/comfort and sick!fic scenarios that much haha! I hope you will enjoy your post ♡

Have a great weekend everybody!

CW: injuries and illnesses, mention of blood

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

While Aragorn’s heroic sacrifice didn’t cost him his life, it took a heavy toll on him. Lucky for him, you’ve spoken often enough about medicinal herbs and healing practices – you are able to take great care of him, bedded on his white linens. Even when he is still too weak to speak, Aragorn will hold your gentle hand.

.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

You return so often to Arwen’s bedside that you wonder if it would be easier to just stay – but you know that privacy and rest are just as important as her wish to hold your hand. Whenever you’re with her, you tend to her wounds or read her passages from her favourite book to make her smile, which Arwen appreciates immensely. As she rests, she plans on properly kissing you as soon as she’s healthy.

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir hates that a common cold has him chained to the bed for over a week now. But he’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy you taking care of him – even though you do tease him and his constantly red nose from time to time. It’s all in good fun though, and he cannot wait to hold and kiss you again!

.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

When Lord Elrond returned to Rivendell injured, your heart skipped a beat – he is the most skilled Elvish healer around – who else could treat the gaping, magical wound in his side? The honour is bestowed on you, and you master it despite your nervous mind. Nothing is greater encouragement than finally seeing Elrond’s summer eyes greet you again ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

The Rohirrim have all kinds of names for the strange fever that has befallen their dear Éomer – but no methods of healing. They consider it an impossible challenge for you to tame his feverish, sweaty body and nonsense mumblings. But, somehow, the horse lord calms whenever you reach his bedside, sighing when you change the wet cloths on his forehead and rest your hand on his chest.

.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Initially, Éowyn thinks nothing of the cut she got during sword lessons. But days of ignoring the wound on her hand could put her in grave danger, you know that – and thus offer to take a look and do what you can. At first, Éowyn protests, but she falls silent as soon as you turn her hand in yours, unaware of how soft her expression grows… She admires your medical knowledge, too! “Is there at all something you cannot do, you marvellous creature?”

.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

It takes days for Faramir to wake up. Many others believe him doomed and have given up on sitting by his side, trying new herbs and waters, only to see his crystal blue eyes open once more. But you have the matter-of-factly patience of a boat pushing its way through a deadly ocean. And indeed, on a moonlit night, Faramir’s gentle gaze awaits when you return to his side, whispering, “Thank you for believing in me, my love.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Sometimes you wonder if you are the only person to have consideration for both the physical and the mental wounds Frodo has endured. You always make sure he’s fine and support him when thoughts of the big scar on his chest sends him to dark places inside his mind. You both know that those wounds take much more time to heal than the cut itself, and Frodo is more than glad to have you by his side. To soothe him, you caress the scar.

.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Ever since a mysterious malady has befallen Lady Galadriel, Lothlórien is in turmoil. No one would even let you near her – until she ordered her guards away, to allow you to treat her with your medical and arcane knowledge. In fact, you become the only one she wishes to see in her elegant rooms at all. Despite her current weakness, her ethereal beauty and soft smiles make it hard for you to concentrate…

.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Out of breath, you hurry to Gandalf’s beside with that one legendary flower needed to cure him. He insists you be the one to prepare the potion, too. Day and night, you try to perfect his medicine, always worried his state might get worse. When Gandalf finally drinks your potion, the wound on his chest closes magically. But it’s nothing to Gandalf, who has trusted you entirely: “I never doubted you for a moment, my dear.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

After Gimli’s accident in the mine, you were right by his side to ensure his head injury wouldn’t get much worse. His headache is hurting badly though, and your proud Dwarf is but a shadow of himself. He knows rest would be best for him, but it’s hard for him to stay away from work and banquets alike. Still, he appreciates that you pamper him with his favourite baked goods and healing kisses on his head ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir is not an easy patient, but that doesn’t stop you from treating his catastrophic shoulder, which he has ignored for days on his way through the woods of Lórien. Spread onto linen sheets beneath you, he grunts and cringes – as much as his half-dead stone face can, that is – under both your touch and your harsh words. But deep down, he knows you were simply worried – and honestly, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with that!

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

It seemed inevitable that Legolas would someday break a leg because of his acrobatic archery skills, and yet you are surprised. Elves heal quickly, but Legolas suffers greatly under his involuntary immobility. You help him by recounting his favourite quest stories and eventually by supporting his first tentative steps outside, which he thanks you for with the stormiest embraces ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry thinks he can walk of anything – even an injured knee. He doesn’t want you to think of him as weak or unable to take care of himself. But even Merry can only play down a limp for so long. Truth be told, he is actually relieved that he no longer has to hide the pain, and that you spreading balm on his knee is no ordeal but in fact a very sweet gesture.

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin has been sneezing and stumbling for days, eventually falling into bed with the biggest groan you have ever heard come out of him. He is a “suffering” patient and you know it. But while Pippin greatly enjoys you pampering him with food, tea and blankets, he secretly cannot wait to take care of you in return – no matter if you’re sick or not! “It’s you’re not actually sick, or else I couldn’ave kissed you!”

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Gardening involves many dangers, and although Sam has been practising it since childhood, he eventually hurts himself on his gardening knife. The cut is deep and won’t stop bleeding, but you are quick to bandage it and remind him to change the fabric once a day. But Sam has trouble keeping his thoughts straight, when all he can think about is you holding his hand in yours, all close…

[eden-falls]

the manwhores of the realm. i mean fellowship of the ring

design notes under cut!! this is the product of a lot of work and i planned to design EVERYONE but i got tired and this is a good stopping point. for now.

expect more sansûkh gigolas soon. what a genuinely phenomenal piece of writing

gandalf:

• just an unassuming scruffy old guy. nothing weird going on here definitely not a minor god wandering around kidnapping hobbits for quests

• the staff was inspired by a shepherd's crook which felt appropriate considering his role

• i did also design gandalf the white but i dont like that one as much so if it ever comes up i'll go back to it

the hobbits:

• tails!! the length indicates age which is why pippin's is the shortest

• frodo's outfit is inspired by welsh traditional clothing (i am welsh) while merry and pip are kinda more general edwardian style and sam more medieval aligned based on a particular vintage costume design i dug up

• pippin's pockets are endless and hold many mysteries! he ties his hair like that to look taller

aragorn:

• to be honest. still not sure about him. i think the green is a mistake when putting him next to legolas and i sort of think the elves of rivendell go for deeper blues and purples, but my reasoning for the green was like... nature and camouflage? this one is still subject to change colour wise

• i didn't forget arwen's necklace he just wears it under the jacket

• yah theres not really any real life inspo. the cut of the jacket is viking i think but it's like 90% made up

• the books say he is the tallest so i let that hold true. however. know i am not happy about it and will probably continue to draw legolas the tallest otherwise

boromir

• first and foremost black hair. idgaf thats what the books say and in this regard i like canon more so

• i didnt wanna just do black and white gondorian colours so i played about with saturation a bit

• i moved the tree from the shirt area to his belt buckle only because i have made the shirt too complex to properly display it

• a little inspired by traditional turkish wear! i don't have much reasoning its just how i imagine minas tirith style clothing

legolas:

• hes a WOOD ELF he is GREEN 💚

• always has a stray leaf in his hair its literally in the name

• he has scabbards for his daggers on the back of his belt

• silver metal details rather than golden like the others

• like pippin's pockets nobody knows how deep his little bag actually is. he probably puts bugs in it or something

• his bow is pretty simple. i like to think he made it himself or maybe tauriel if we r considering her canon

• hair defies physics slightly

gimli

• high ponytail gimli truther it's just GOOD

• as is usually headcanoned, there's an overwhelming viking influence here. i felt however that horns on the helmet would be too much (and historically inaccurate if thats something that matters)

• jewel tones! i think he has an appreciation for aesthetics like this. nice patterning as well

• i added leather armour here but i probably won't draw it very often because why would he wear armour to smooch legolas. it's just so i can be consistent when i DO draw it honestly

[balrogballs]

Notes on Elrond, Gilraen and the Co-Parenting of Kings

Gilraen spends all of Estel’s Terrible Twos and Threes being completely and rightfully done with Elrond because the latter would accidentally undo any disciplinary decision the two of them make. Elrond and Gilraen would say, for instance, no sweets until dinner. Gilraen would stick to this but toddler Estel soon learns that it takes only 5-7 minutes of crying until Elrond both gives in and apologises to him for the delay. Gilraen is firmly convinced that the child’s toddler phase lasting twice as long as normal is entirely Elrond’s fault.

Gilraen has to deal with Elrond’s habit of saying completely unhinged stuff in plain view of Valar and Eldar. Once, baby Estel was wailing in his arms and had to be passed over to Gilraen because he was hungry, so she pulls on a scarf and starts breastfeeding the child. Elrond stands around looking morose and she feels sorry for him, assuming he was sad about his wife or something normal. That is, until he pipes up with “I wish I could do that” and “it hurts my feelings to know I cannot meet all his needs”. He is taken aback when Gilraen asks him what the fuck is wrong with him.

She’s the first person outside his close circle that he talks to about Celebrían, and oh boy does he TALK. Gilraen has never met the woman, but often feels like Cel is her very best friend, due to how much she knows about her.

Though there is absolutely zero romantic feeling between the two, Gilraen and Elrond spend the 20 years of Estel’s youth bickering like an old married couple. It gives them both an odd sense of normalcy and, in a way, relief from grief over their respective spouses. Would Gilraen and Elrond ever admit that the 20 hours they spent arguing over how often Estel needed haircuts and what style said cuts should be were some of the most fun they’ve had since their bereavements? No, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

When Estel was young enough for bedtime stories, they would alternate nights between them, with Elrond telling him stories of the First Age, and Gilraen telling him adventure stories of men and rangers. Estel’s favourite nights though, are the ones in which they collaborate and tell long, convoluted, nonsensical stories and argue over the existence of morals, teaming up to force the El-twins and Glorfindel to act as glorified puppets.

Elrond, who cannot exactly gossip with other elves due to his status, discovers his inner mean girl only in his friendship with Gilraen. The two of them are massive bitches, no two ways about it, to the point they even lock eyes at public dinners when someone is wearing something particularly gaudy or ostentatious (usually Glorfindel) and giggle away about it later. Straight up preteen girl shit, unashamed and unapologetic, to the point they have a set of inside jokes about most people in Imladris, including their children. If you think they sound like wine mums, that’s because they do. Cont’d under cut.

When Estel is thirteen, he faces his first heartbreak and goes to his mother, who quizzes the tearful boy about what happened. Estel explains that he had a crush on some girl from a village outside the valley and, on advice from an unnamed source, spent the past year not saying a word about it until the girl went and got herself an actual boyfriend. Estel doesn’t share the source of said advice, but that does not stop Gilraen marching into Elrond’s study with “when I said you should instruct my son to be like you, I meant in war and lore, not the art of being a tongue-tied twit!”

When Aragorn told his mother of his betrothal to Arwen, she congratulated him and told him she was happy for him. She also forced him to go to Elrond and confess properly, though he knew, and refused to intervene on her son’s behalf or ask his foster father to temper his anger. And after Aragorn went back out as a ranger and Arwen went to Lothlorien, it was Gilraen who went to Elrond’s study and sat with him for hours.

When she leaves to return to her people, he understands and obviously allows it. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t stop being a pain in her ass, mind you. At least once or twice a year, he would travel up to stay at her house and they would drink and chat and argue for hours, to the point that their neighbours simply refuse to believe that the weirdo in the garden trying to mansplain seed transplanting to Gilraen was, in fact, the ancient and esteemed Lord of Imladris. Imagine Gandalf but insufferable, and that’s what Elrond is for this specific Dunedain neighbourhood.

He does, of course, note as she ages and it begins to visibly grieve him. She notices this and on one visit, catching him look at her like he cannot bear to do this any longer, takes him aside and tells him not to come again, “because I will only grow older. Because my hair will turn whiter and my face more wrinkled and perhaps my teeth will fall out, my skin will sag, and I will forget who you are. And then one day I will stop growing old and I think watching a thing like this twice over will be the end of you”. He understands mercy disguised as cruelty more than most, and though there are many tears on both sides, he respects her decision.

Elrond understandably feels out of place and too small for his own skin in the immediate aftermath of Arwen and Aragorn’s wedding and takes to wandering aimlessly in his own gardens until he comes across the old memorial sculpture he had commissioned of Gilraen, and in a characteristic burst of eccentricity, starts chatting with it about the wedding. Tells her how ridiculous Glorfindel looked, how Aragorn fumbled the necklace (“butterfingers, Gilly, just like his mother!”), how he had to make Arwen take off the godawful tiara Celeborn got her and wear something normal, and how she would have “loved Bilbo Baggins, he’d have fit right in at our brunches”. It was absolutely batshit, him sitting there talking at a marble statue, but it was, in its strange way, incredibly comforting.

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; Beneath the Stars (Aragorn x Reader)

Summary - A woman draped in cloth cut from the night sky, an awestruck ranger admiring from afar, and a bet between elven royals—what could go wrong?

Warnings - Smut, language, afab!reader, fem!reader, mention of alcohol (poorly written), poorly written dancing (I do not know how to dance), woodland elves getting crunk (they know how to party), heavily implied marriage (Aragorn and Reader), heavily implied wife!Reader, heavily implied husband!Aragorn, simp!Aragorn (man loves his betrothed), mention of bets (Legolas and Arwen), nonsexual tension (Legolas and Arwen—they just want to win the bet), heavy dom/sub undertones and dynamic, sub!Aragorn, dom!Reader, heavily alluded worshipping kink (Aragorn is just a simp), unprotected sex, mention of a womb (reader), mention of female genitalia (reader), mention of male genitalia (Aragorn), handjob (Aragorn receiving), lowkey humiliation kink (Aragorn having), degradation (Aragorn receiving), poor attempt at dirty talk, name calling (Aragorn is called a dumb whore), reader is called mistress and goddess, slight mean reader (but in a hot way), hair pulling (Aragorn receiving), semi-public sex, creampie, and maybe more (I might have missed a few things).

Pronouns & POV - She/Her, third-person (starts more Aragorn leaning)

Pairings - Aragorn x Reader (romantic), implied Reader x Arwen (friendly). Arwen x Legolas (friendly rivalry)

Word Count - 6,100+ (I do not know how we got here, but we did)

A/N - Another one from the suggestion box! "This takes place in Northern Mirkwood, where Legolas is from. Maybe Aragorn and Reader are there for some sort of formal event? Reader stuns Aragorn in an Elvish dress and she kinda takes advantage. Poor Aragorn becomes a mess! Arwen and Legolas have made a secret bet on how fast it’ll take for Aragorn and Reader to sneak away. Reader is wearing a pretty dark blue Elvish dress with long sleeves and some kind of pretty silver embroidery." — @tsum00 (I hope I tagged the right person, please correct me if I am wrong!) This may have gone a bit off from the suggestion, so I do apologize for that! I hope you enjoy regardless, thank you so much for your suggestion and your kind words! I really enjoyed writing this and ended up with more plot written than I expected, so I do apologize for that! I made the feast, the feast of starlight as that was the only one I could remember at the moment. I kept the reader as vague as possible but included the dress, the only defining features are plump lips. I got way too into writing this while simultaneously having writer's block...it was an experience but an enjoyable one. Smut below the cut!

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Mereth Nuin Giliath, otherwise known as the Feast of Starlight in the common tongue. A celebratory feast held in admiration for the various lights that shone within the darkened sky alongside the vast moon that loomed over them.

The exact origins of the feast were unknown to those outside of the woodland halls, and the king of Gondor was no exception to said fact. However, it mattered not to the recently crowned king why he was there to celebrate such matters; he was merely joyous to be invited to such festivities—vastly aware of the secrecy of the northern elves.

A gentle breeze drifted throughout the woodland halls as the celebrations echoed within, carrying the strumming of harps and the chatter of elves as it floated through the chilled air. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the dancing figures on the busied floor, painting the walls with tall, darkened reflections of their graceful movements as they basked within the energy of the natural light from above.

The various figures swayed upon the dance floor, yet the grace within their movements began to gnaw away with each sip of rouge liquid that stained the various elven lips. A similar hue dripped onto the old, wooden floor beneath them, quenching the dried wood with the taste of aged elven wine as their goblets flowed over while their movements became more primal.

Amongst the sea of dancing figures, there was one whom the recently crowned king's eyes could not part from—his dearly betrothed, Y/N.

To say the woman was a vision was an understatement to the king. The deep blue silk draped upon her heavenly figure made her appear like a goddess wrapped in the same night sky the elves danced under. The soft twinkles of the silver spool sewn into the gown shimmered with each sway of her hips amidst the mixed lights.

As the elves continued to rejoice beneath the light of the stars, the new king could not help but envision how he might later rejoice beneath the light of her. The moisture within his mouth began to overflow at the thought as he shifted upon the heels of his feet, the old wooden floor creaking beneath the moving weight as his mind continued to wander—picturing the heavenly flesh hidden beneath the smoothness of silk.

"Your mind wanders." A familiar voice broke through the static of the king's trance, reminding the man of the familiar elven prince who stood to the right of him. "Have you heard a single word I had spoken?" The prince questioned, a thick brow quirked upwards as the man nervously raised the goblet of rouge liquid to meet his thin lips.

"I, erm..." Any hint of excuse died within Aragorn's throat as the blood within his cheeks burnt hot, his eyes betraying him as they continuously darted back to the packed floor—watching as the beautiful temptress swayed amongst the sea of elves. "I had not." He uttered, a soft admission as he attempted to revert his eyes towards the prince beside him, yet he struggled to pull his gaze away from the temptation upon the dance floor.

Lost in a trance, like a sailor lulled to the depths of the sea by a siren, his gaze followed each hypnotic sway of the woman's hips. The deep blue fabric swished side to side with each motion, the silver embellishments twinkling within the pale moonlight, pulling him deeper into the trance of arousal.

"Why stand and watch when you could be beside her?" The elven prince questioned, once again pulling the man back from the depths of his desires. "No one would fault you if you were to slip away for a moment." Legolas continued, his tone sounding more like a tempting song. Though Aragorn could not see it, he could hear how Legolas' smirk dripped upon each word he uttered.

"Legolas," Another familiar voice spoke from beside Aragorn, one full of softness and femininity—yet the slightest twinge of irritation weighed heavy upon the elf's name. "Aragorn is in no need of your council." She continued, the soft swish of her wine tapped against her glass, her hand clenching around the stem as her gaze fixated upon her fellow elven royal—sapphire eyes narrowing in displeasure as the prince's ocean ones twinkled with mischief.

"Perhaps I shall accompany my betrothed." The words that left Aragorn's lips were in a dream-like trance, light and airy—full of desire and satisfaction as he continued to admire his beloved.

The sound of his betrothed's laughter floated alongside the strumming of harps in the air, fluttering into the man's ears, filling his chest with a glow of warmth and a yearning for her tender caress. There was not a single flaw within the woman upon the dance floor, none that the recently crowned king could find—and if any dared to utter otherwise, he would ensure they would be unable to utter another word ever again.

The thought alone was enough to cause the man's grasp to tighten around his goblet, clenching around the cold metal within his calloused palm as the muscles within his jaw began to tense at the nonsensical fantasy his mind had composed.

As his mind continued to string along peculiar fantasies, the woman spun around. The corners of her plump lips quirked into a playful smile as the weight of her head tilted back in laughter, the hue of her hair cascading down her scalp like a waterfall beneath the pale moonlight as she continued to rejoice in the festivities. That was all it took; the sight of his beloved so wild and free was all it took to break his resolve.

"Pardon me." Aragorn uttered, his words barely catching within the sensitive ears of his royal elven companions as his feet guided him onto the dance floor. Discarding the goblet of rouge liquid upon the way, wishing to have his hands free for what was to come.

As the head of auburn hair disappeared amongst the sea of elven heads, an amused snicker slipped out of the elven prince's thin lips.

"It appears you will have to make good on your bet, my lady," Legolas began, his voice laced with smugness as he brought his goblet to his lips, allowing the pool of rouge liquid to enter them. "I shall be expecting the wine by the next full moon." He continued, earning a scoff from the elven lady's plump lips.

"You merely led him to her," Arwen rebutted, a slender hand waving slightly to dismiss the notion Legolas had proposed. "I have faith that I shall be the victor of this bet. Aragorn is no animal."

The statement, ever innocent and determined, caused a sea of laughter to bubble up from Legolas's throat—nearly causing the typically stoic prince to choke upon his wine. "We shall see." He spoke once his throat cleared of laughter, yet the smug grin remained carved upon his thin lips.

──────

The auburn-haired man continued to push through the sea of elves, uttering soft apologies when he accidentally bumped into one through the cramped path, yet he couldn't stop. He cared little about the path or those in his way; all he cared about was you.

The pale moonlight shone down upon you, bathing you in the silvery hue of its aura as you continued to sway on the floor—appearing like a goddess amidst a sea of faithful servants despite being a mortal amongst near immortals.

The thump of the ranger's booted feet against the wooden floor echoed throughout the air as he approached, garnering your attention as you ended yet another twirl. The deep blue gown fanned out as your motions halted, much attention falling onto your hips and waist as it momentarily tightened around them before returning to its loosened state.

"Y/N," Aragorn breathed as he stood before you, the leather of the tips of his boot touching against the smoothness of your dancing shoe—desperately attempting to be as close to you as possible. "you look lovely." His voice was no louder than a whisper, as the heat of his words gently caressed the flesh of your neck as he leaned closer to you. "Utterly lovely." He repeated the word like a prayer, desperate for his goddess to hear it.

The smile upon your lips curved differently, one of mischief and delight, and the gaze your gemstone-colored eyes held began to narrow. "Oh?" The word left your lips in a breath, watching as the once ranger eagerly bobbed his head to answer you—like the good boy he was. "And tell me, just how lovely do I look?" You teased, eager to hear him sing praises of your beauty as he squirmed with desire under your stern gaze.

"You look like a goddess sent from the heavens," Aragorn breathed dreamily. The heat of his body radiated off of him as he leaned closer to you, desperate to be within your presence, yet knowing better than to touch without permission. "one who I yearn to worship." The heat of his whisper grazed against the sensitive flesh of your neck, his lips hovering a mere breath away from your delicate flesh as his gaze rose to meet yours.

"Is that so?" You questioned, the smug grin never leaving your lips as you gazed down upon the ranger—his knees bent slightly, subconsciously preparing to kneel before you and abide by your beck and call. "And is that how you properly ask to worship me? Is it?" As the taunting question left your lips, the ranger's icy eyes slowly widened in realization. You wanted him to beg among the sensitive ears of elves.

"I..." The moisture dried from the man's mouth, words catching within the back of his throat as his head rose from your neck. "You wish for me to beg?" He whispered, his eyes anxiously darting throughout the room as a heat began to spread throughout the center of his chest. Though the warmth had started as one of unease, it began to settle into a burn of arousal.

"I do not see why not." The floor creaked slightly beneath you as you inched closer to Aragorn, the tips of your shoes pressing into the tips of his boots, forcing them to squish into the flesh of his toes. "But, the others—" "Oh, now the presence of others troubles you, my dear?" You taunted, the heat of your breath grazing against the flesh of his pricked chin, furthering the heat of arousal that spread throughout him.

"You appeared to have no issue ravishing me with your eyes moments ago." You continued, inching closer to the man before you, the softness of your flesh pressing into the hardness of his—causing the hardness within his trousers to grow further. "Well, I, erm..." Aragorn trailed off, unable to find a viable excuse that would explain both how he stared at you and how hardened his cock had become whilst doing so.

"Tell me, pet," The words escaped your lips in a purred tone, as the smoothness of your hand gently encased the side of his face, the roughness of his beard grazing against your palm as he leaned into your touch. "what were you envisioning as you stared at my hips? Hm?" Your thumb grazed against his bottom lip, stained lightly by the rogue hue of the liquid he had so easily downed prior whilst gazing upon you.

"You using me for your pleasure, mistress." Aragorn admitted sheepishly. The heat beneath his cheeks was now a roaring wildfire as the tingling of embarrassment rushed throughout his veins, allowing the flow of blood to fixate on its trail down to his cock.

"Is that so?" You cooed as the smoothness of your thumb continued to caress the smoothness of his stained lower lip. His head bobbed eagerly in agreement, the harshness of his bearded cheek rubbed against your palm as his icy eyes bore up at you large and sparkling with a lustful desire to please you. "Yes, mistress." He breathed, his eyes never leaving yours as he sank his cheek deeper into your touch.

"Such a good toy." The softness of your palm dropped from his face, earning a displeased whimper from the ranger's lips as you inched away—his body seeking yours out as he leaned forward slightly, desperate to be in the warmth of your aura. "Mistress, please." He whined, his desperation to please you overflowing, washing away all his previous worries of the woodland elves hearing him pleading to please you.

Despite how he pleaded, you continued to inch away from him, earning yet another whine to slip through his wine-stained lips. The sight of your heavenly figure backing away from him was near torture as if the gods were ripping away the angel sent to save him from damnation—or rather, bring him closer to it.

Before another sound of displeasure—or another pathetic beg—could escape the king's lips, you curved a finger in his direction, signaling for him to follow, which he did eagerly.

His steps held a bounce as he rushed after you like a stray dog being brought home during a storm. Though the thumping within his chest was rapid, all blood flow fixated on the cause of the growing tent pitching within the front of his trousers as you led the king of Gondor away from the festivities.

──────

It was a bit of a blur how the ranger ended up in this manner: back pressed firmly against the twisted woodland halls, the old wood digging into the exposed flesh of his rear as his trousers laid upon the ground. The bitter night's air nipped at his exposed flesh, yet his cock was warmed beneath the smoothness of your touch.

His breath hitched within his throat as your delicate hand continued to glide upon his throbbing member, dampened with the saliva you had spat upon it the moment his trousers fell upon the floor.

"What if we are caught?" He whispered, his voice quivering in pleasure as the tip of your thumb grazed over the throbbing head of his cock, smearing the off-white liquid of his pre-release. An amused scoff fell from your lips as you continued to stroke his throbbing length, feeling pulsations of his racing heart within his cock.

"Then they would see what a good whore you are for your mistress." Your cooed words caused his cock to twitch within your touch, the lids of his eyes dropping slightly as the pleasure of praise sunk within his veins. "Though I doubt they would see much, my damn sleeve blocks even my view." You grumbled beneath your breath, your free hand hoisting up your long sleeve yet again as your preoccupied hand continued to twist upon the leaking length, the sleeve soon drooping down—sheathing the king's cock from the night's air and the heat of your gaze.

An annoyed tsk fell from your lips as you attempted to fix your sleeve again, yet to no avail. The smooth silk continued to sway around Aragorn's throbbing cock, occasionally gliding against it as your hand sunk to his base, making a shiver roam down his spine at the pleasurable sensation.

"Mistress, please." He whined, the weight of his head falling back, tilting against the harsh wooden wall behind him as his cock continued to pulsate in your hand. The creamy liquid coated his length entirely, making the motions of your hand even smoother upon his hardness.

"Please what?" You purred as you leaned closer to him, the floor creaking under the shifting of weight as your hand continued to circle his throbbing member. "Use your words like a good whore. Tell me what you want, pet." The heat of your breath grazed the shell of his ear, causing more droplets of his pre-pleasure to leak from the slit of his reddened head.

"Please fuck me." He groaned in pleasure, his eyes looping towards the back of his skull as he felt your hand tighten around his throbbing cock; you could feel each beat of his heart within your palm. "I cannot take it any longer. Please, mistress." His pitiful whines only furthered the grin upon your lips; the mighty King Elessar here, in such a compromising position, begging for your cunt like a pathetic little whore.

"Aw, you want my pussy around your cock? Squeezing all around it while I use it for my pleasure, hm?" The words left your mouth in a teasing purr, yet the king did not deny it. A blur of auburn locks rapidly bobbing filled your view before he weakly leaned back against the wooden wall, his chest rising and falling at an uneven speed as he tried to resist painting your hand white with his seed from your words alone.

"Gods..." He whimpered out, his body quivering in pleasure at the thought of your wet walls wrapped around his thickened cock; gliding up and down it, making it glisten under the moonlight as your warmth enveloped him. "The gods aren't here right now, pet." You hummed, leaning even closer to him as your grip tightened around his sensitive member, causing him to hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure at the sharp tightness.

"Tell me you want it." You breathed into him, lips grazing against the sensitive shell of his ear before they enveloped the lobe for a moment, surrounding his flesh for a split second before your teeth encased them, tugging the flesh downwards, causing the king to groan in pleasure.

"I want it—fuck!" The hand that fiddled with the smooth sleeve of your gown dipped downwards, finding its way where the full sack of his seed rested to which it cupped in a firm grasp. "Shit—I need it, mistress. I need you." He whined in pleasure as your hands continued to stimulate him. One toying with the length of his aching cock as the other massaged his sack, toying with the balls as you rubbed them within your smooth palm.

"That's what I thought." You hummed, your grasp tightening around both manhood and sack for a moment—earning a hiss of pleasure from the king—before you released both. The chill of the night air nipped against Aragorn's sensitive flesh, his cock twitching slightly at the lack of warmth as it drooped ever so slightly without the support of your palm.

The soft swish of fabric hoisted up caught Aragorn's attention, his glazed-over icy eyes slowly fluttering back open to a glorious sight before him: you lifting the skirt of your gown and positioning yourself before him. You reached forward, the warmth of your hand once again encasing the ranger's throbbing cock as you brought the oozing tip to your dampened entrance.

But, instead of sliding the aching tip into the warmth of your cunt, you decided to tease him. Slowly rubbing the angry head against your dripping hole, tapping it against where it so desperately desired to sink into as you looked back at your beloved; his face twisted with a mixture of lust and annoyance.

"Mistress." He whined, it was a pathetic sound you loved to hear him make. It was almost amusing to you how easily you could turn such an admired king into a whining little bitch from the promise of your cunt.

"Patience, my love." You continued to rub the head of his cock against your open entrance, earning an annoyed groan from your desperate pet. Normally, Aragorn would relish in your teasing, the anticipation of sinking into your cunt, yet the influence of the wine had made him very impatient. He needed you now.

The floor creaked under the shifting of his weight as he attempted to slide into you, thrusting into the palm of your head and nearly piercing your entrance with the oozing head of his cock—yet it did not enter.

"Ah, ah, ah." You tsked as you inched back slightly; the grasp you held upon his cock tightened in a warning hold, causing the man to groan in further desperation. Before Aragorn could utter a single complaint, your free hand darted up to his hair, tangling within his auburn locks. "Did I give you permission to do that?" "N-No..." The word quivered upon Aragorn's lips as what he had done slowly sunk in.

"No, what?" You questioned, your tone dripping with assertion as your grasp upon his hair tightened. The soft sting of your nails digging into his scalp caused his cock to twitch within your palm. "N-No, mistress. I am so sorry, mistress." The words left his lips in a nervous, humiliated quiver as his pupils dilated in a mixture of anxiety and arousal. A pathetic little whore, that's what he was. Your pathetic whore.

A mocking laugh rumbled within your chest as you snagged at the auburn strands, forcing his head to the side and exposing the clean flesh of his neck. No longer did it bare the marks of your teeth, the wordless brand that he was yours and yours alone, but now it stood as plain flesh. "You want to fuck your mistress, do you, whore?" A question wordlessly answered with an attempt to nod, his smooth locks rubbing into your palm as he stared at you like a hungered man placed before a feast.

"You are lucky I am feeling generous tonight." The warmth of your palm departed from his cock, yet again, yet your other remained tangled within his auburn locks. The front of your gown had managed to stay hoisted up despite your actions, leaving the ranger whimpering in desire at the sight of your exposed cunt. "You better make this worth my while."

Within a moment of the warning words leaving your lips, you were soon pressed against the wooden wall—backed into the corner as the ranger hoisted one of your legs around his waist, ensuring it circled him firmly as he aligned the tip of his cock with your center. His movements stalled for a moment, his icy eyes locking onto yours, searching for your approval, and with a simple nod of your head, he allowed his thickness to sink into your welcoming walls.

Though you had felt this stretch countless times before, it was as pleasant as the first time. Aragorn's cock slowly sunk into the wetness of your cunt, pushing in inch by inch until the bones of his hips pressed into yours: tearing through your inner walls, stretching them to a satisfying fullness, as the sturdiness of his arms encased you.

His hips remained stagnant for a few moments as he savored the sensation of your cunt gripping him. It was wet, warm, and welcoming—clinging all around him as the weight of his body leaned into you, seeking to be even deeper in the warmth of your grasp.

"Fuck..." He breathed, the heat of his breath grazing against the nape of your neck as he continued to press into you. The harsh prickle of his beard tickled the crook of your neck as he buried his face within it.

Though you loved to see the king in such a vulnerable state, relishing in the heaven that was your cunt, your patience was waning. With a huff of your plump lips, you slowly rolled your hips—forcing an even deeper stretch, one that made the ranger whimper against your neck.

"I said fuck me, not stand there like an idiot." You huffed as your hips rose and fell against his, gliding upon his cock as if it was nothing but another toy for your pleasure within your collection—after all, that's what he was. Your pleasure toy first, husband second. "Or are you too stupid to fuck me properly?" The ranger's cock twitched against your inner walls as you mocked him, feeling every ounce of his cock throbbing within you. The large vein that curved upon it throbbed in pleasure as you berated him, as another pathetic whimper vibrated against the crook of your neck.

"I can't help it." He whined, no longer sounding like the regal king he was at the beginning of the night—turned into a pathetic little fuck toy for the woman who slid upon his cock. "You feel so good, mistress." He continued to babble excuses against your neck, his calloused hands grasping at your arms, clinging onto you like a sailor to a piece of plywood stranded at sea.

The sudden sting of your hand snatching his hair, nails pricking against his scalp, as you tugged his head to the side caused his cock to stir inside of you again. The vein upon the middle throbbing in excitement, droplets of his nearing release oozing out, staining your inner walls.

"I said: fuck me. Not babble like an idiot." You hissed, the grasp held upon his auburn locks tightening—earning a hiss of pleasure from the ranger as his hips finally began to rock into yours. "That's a good boy." You purred, the grasp upon his hair remaining firm as his hips bucked into yours.

Each thrust was slow and deep, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein upon his throbbing, thick cock as he slowly split your inner walls open. A faint sheen of sweat began to form upon your forehead as the ranger continued his thrusts, making your skin glisten under the faint glow of candlelight; making you appear more heavenly than before.

"There we go, just like that." Your hums of pleasure further encouraged the motions the ranger held within his hips; a slight burn began to spread throughout his lower abdomen as his balls tightened slightly—threatening to spill his heavily stowed seed into your willing womb, yet he attempted to resist the lull of release. The squelching sound of your pleasure bounced throughout the woodland halls, likely falling within the ears of every elf in the presence of the celebrations—yet you worried not of it, simply sinking into the deep stretch of the ranger's cock pounding inside of your core.

The swollen, leaking tip of his cock continued to pound away inside of you—grazing against your most sensitive spot. In response to the grazing, your inner walls tightened their moist grasp around his throbbing member as a moan fell from your lips, a sound that nearly pushed the ranger over the edge.

"Aw, are you about to cum?" You cooed, the words oozing with mock care as Aragorn's hips quivered against yours. His tightened balls were slick with the essence of your pleasure as they tapped against your cunt as his aching, desperate cock delved deeper within you. "Y-Yes, mistress." The words left his lips in a shaky breath, the weight of his head quivered within your smooth palm as your grasp upon it tightened further.

"Are you really that pathetic that you cannot fuck me for five minutes without bursting?" The lids of Aragorn's eyes fluttered together tightly, a desperate attempt to restrain himself from emptying his seed within your core. The muscles within his abdomen clenched tightly as he continued to carve his cock within the heavenly embrace of your dripping walls, desperate to be good, desperate to please you. "Do it." You breathed into his ear, causing all motion within his hips to stall as the lids of his eyes flew open.

The weight of his lower jaw dropped, his eyes widening as large as the full moon in the sky as he stood there—mindlessly staring at you. "I—you—what?" He breathed; the nonsensical babbling left his lips in a quiver as his mind struggled to process what you were asking of him. You wanted him to spill his seed within you?

"I said do it." The heat of your breath grazed against the shell of his ear, his hips jutting up into yours mindlessly as your leg tightened around his waist. "Cum in me like the pathetic whore you are." That was all it took for the dam of the ranger's seed to break, bursting into your cunt like an endless river as rope after rope of hot, white liquid poured stained the walls of your womb.

His body trembled within your grasp, the harshness of his nails dug into the smooth silk of your deep blue gown as he continued to splooge ropes of his hot seed deep within your core; rushing to your womb.

"Fuck..." He hissed in pleasure as the grip of your inner walls tightened around him, clenching your inner walls in tauntingly pleasurable sensation for a few moments before releasing and clenching again; allowing his seed to rush even deeper within your core. "Such a pathetic little slut." You breathed, the corners of your lips returning into a smug grin as your gaze narrowed at the man.

A mixture of lust and false annoyance flashed within your eyes, yet you could not deny how pleasurable the warmth of his seed felt within your womb.

"So fucking pathetic, can't fuck me for five seconds without cumming like a little bitch in heat." You continued, making him whine in pleasure, his cock twitching within your core at the degrading. "I am sorry, mistress." He mewled pathetically as his face burnt with embarrassment, his hips mindlessly jutting against yours as his slightly softened cock continued to push his seed within you.

"Show me how sorry you are." You breathed as you tugged at his auburn locks, forcing his head to arch further away from your neck—the burning snag of your grasp toying with his sensitive scalp caused his cock to reharden within you. "Make me cum, and I'll forgive you."

A renewed energy spread throughout Aragorn's body at your command, the speed at which his hips moved quickly turned rapid as his cock pounded away inside of your core earning a surprised squeak to fall from your plump lips.

His aching cock carved itself deep within your walls, the leaking head of his cock thumped against the most special spongy spots within your core in a repeated pattern as his grasp tightened around you—desperate to hold himself back from spewing his seed inside you again, and even more so desperate to give you the pleasure in the manner you had trained him to.

As he continued to pound away inside of you, one of his hands dropped from you and slipped down to the sensitive flesh of your cunt—the heat of your arousal emanated off of it, a sign that he was pleasuring you despite the little sounds of pleasure that left your lips.

You found yourself getting lost in the unintentional pattern of the ranger's hips, sinking into every thrust as the weight of your head tilted back against the wooden wall. It was easy to forget that you were in the halls of the woodland elves, only the muffled cheers of their celebration and varied footsteps that ended just short of you brought you back to the reality of how close you were to getting caught—yet that did not cease your arousal. The squelching sound of your cunt grew louder as the pattern of footsteps grew even louder as the slap of the ranger's hips meeting your own echoed throughout the halls.

"More." You breathed, your voice no louder than a whisper, but not out of fear; out of pleasure. "Give me more. Be a good little fuck toy and make me scream." A command that was promptly heard, the ranger's hand no longer hovered above your heat but now connected with it as the tips of his calloused fingers made contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your back arched at the sensation as Aragorn began to toy with your clit, applying a faint amount of pleasure to the twitching bundle of nerves as he began to massage it in a circle. The sound of your arousal grew even louder from his touch, the silence your lips held now a slew of groaned praises of pleasure as the wetness of your cunt echoed throughout the woodland halls for all to hear.

The air within the halls weighed heavy upon you as a familiar static sensation began to spread throughout your core, as your hips mindlessly rose and fell under Aragorn's touch as you used him for your nearing pleasure.

"That's it, right there." You breathed, your voice rising in pitch as the throbbing head of his cock continued to abuse your spongy spot. The tips of your toes began to curl as a familiar tingling, nearly burning sensation rose within you. The grasp you held upon the back of his head tightened further, a desperate attempt to remain upright as your pleasure neared.

With each stroke of his cock, you grew more sensitive. Each twitch and throb was a steady beat, a song that led you in the dance of pleasure as you neared the endless abyss of what was to come. You attempted to withhold for a few moments longer, wishing to hear him whimper a few more times before breaking yourself, yet with each punch of his cock into your core you grew weaker and weaker.

Within a matter of moments, you were thrown over the edge; a howl of pleasure escaping your lips as the pressure within your core bursted, coating his length and balls with the sweet nectar of your pleasure. Your body shivered in pleasure, waves of ecstasy roaming throughout your veins as your inner walls fluttered around his aching cock, pushing him over the edge yet again.

A small bump distended from your lower abdomen as the familiar, hot gush of his thick seed flooded your core yet again. Drenching the inner walls of your womb with the endless cups of cum you had forbidden him from spilling days prior.

As the static within your mind began to clear, the stars within your eyes slowly fading away, you released the grasp upon his head. Reddened marks of your nails painted his lightly tanned scalp, a marking of your pleasure that was thankfully hidden from the eyes of most—though his tousled hair was enough proof of what had transpired if one had not heard the previous moans.

"That was..." An amused laugh fell from your lips as he attempted to speak yet the pleasure left him unable, his mind still in a cum-drunken trance as his body quivered within the night's air. "Alright, lover boy, let's get cleaned up before someone walks by." You spoke as you dropped his leg from your waist. A stream of white, hot liquid flowed forth from your aching cunt as you slid his throbbing member out of you—earning a displeased whimper from the king, yet he knew better than to utter a single complaint while you were holding his cock.

──────

As the celebrations began to die down, various elves passed out upon tables and the floor, the King of Gondor and his beloved bride attempted to slip back into the festivities unrecognized.

But they had forgotten of the sharpness of elves' eyes.

"I knew it!" The golden-haired elf boasted, his arms thrust up in the air in victory nearly causing him to spill his goblet of wine upon the raven-haired princess to his right.

"You two could not wait another five minutes?" The elven princess grumbled, her sapphire eyes narrowing in displeasure as she raised her goblet to her lips. Drowning her displeasure of losing in the bitter taste of wine.

"You two knew?" Aragorn questioned, the pitch of his voice rising slightly as it slowly dawned upon him that his elven companions had heard what transpired in the hall. "Knew of it, bet on it. Potato, potato as the hobbits would say." Legolas spoke, his shoulder rising and falling in casualty as the lady of Rivendell grumbled into her wine.

"I cannot believe you allowed him to fuck you so easily! I aided you in finding a gown!" Arwen huffed, her plump lips protruding outwards in a slight pout as her narrowed gaze focused on you.

"I waited as long as I could, my lady. I grew impatient." You spoke, grabbing a goblet of wine from a nearby table as you approached the trio. A familiar heat returned to the king's face as it slowly dawned upon him that his own wife had bet upon his eagerness to bed her. "You were in on this?" His voice was no louder than a whisper, yet as squeaky as a mouse.

The blur of your head nodding caused the heat within Aragorn's cheeks to burn righter, nearly matching the shade of rouge within the elven princess' cup.

"She offered me half her winnings if I aided her." You explained casually, allowing the sweet tang of wine to trickle into your mouth as the elven prince gloated about his winnings.

The king of Gondor stood there mindlessly, his face as red as wine as one thought looped within his mind: elves and their damned betting.

[imagines--galore]

||Love Happens||

Summary: As the youngest daughter of the House of Rivendell, Annúneth has lived a sheltered life. Though that does not stop her from meeting the Prince of Greenwood. And though they start off on the wrong foot, there is one thing that neither of them can deny. 

And that is sometimes, Love simply Happens.

Pairing: Legeloas x AnnúnethOC (Hobbit, LOTR)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None

A/N: This is for @siriuslydestiny​ and @lovelyxkazuha​ Hope you enjoy your request! And this is for @entishramblings​ who hasn’t been feeling the best lately! Also this story takes place AGES before the events of the Hobbit. So Mirkwood is still called Greenwood! And Thranduil isn’t as uptight : P

It was not often that Lord Elrond lead a Hunting Party. But both his sons were away traveling, and he wanted to be sure that no lingering Orcs or Goblins would happen upon Rivendell by accident.

What he had not expected, on the journey home, was for his Hunting Party to instead become a Welcoming Party to the King of Greenwood himself.

“Thranduil, we did not expect you for another week.” Elrond called out as a way of greeting his old friend as he dismounted his horse. Thranduil offered a slight smile in return. “The weather was favorable, and the enemy few. I also wanted to put to rest the rumors of your hospitality as soon as possible. See for myself whether what I heard was truth or not.” The two Elven leaders gave a respectful tilt of the head before grasping each other’s forearms in a greeting one soldier gave another.

Elrond simply smiled in response. “You shall be the judge of that, melon nin. But for now, let us return to Rivendell together. I am sure both our arrivals are anticipated by our comrades.”

Quickly mounting their horses once more, the two Elven Leaders urged their mounts forward, their respective parties following after them.

“How fare your children Elrond? Is your youngest Arwen residing with you, or is she with her grand-sire in Lothlorien?”

Elrond gave a secret smile at the mention of Arwen being the youngest, but made no move to say anything. “She is indeed in Lothlorien, finishing the last of her studies with Galadriel. The twins are leading an expedition to the North. I have yet to hear from them, but last I received a letter, they were in high spirits.” Elrond turned his head towards Thranduil.

“And what of your son Legolas? I have not seen him yet. Did he not come with you?” A sigh fell from Thranduil’s lips, one that Elrond was all too familiar with. It was the sigh of a parent who was at their wit’s end with their child.

“He is here, but he insisted on taking the longer route. Some nonsense about seeing new sights and such.” Thranduil shook his head, not understanding the need his son had when it came to exploring. “He shall be joining us on a later day. Perhaps tomorrow.”

During their conversation, the Parties had reached Rivendell, blowing horns to announce their arrival as they did. It was truly a sight to behold, a marvel of elven architecture and design. Every aspect was flawless, the House built around nature, spacious windows and multiple rooms open to the elements.

As they crossed the bridge Thranduil could not help but comment. “Though I much prefer the Woods of my home, I must say Elrond, you have indeed taken care of your home all these years. It is just as when I first laid eyes upon it when I was an elfling.”

Elrond smiled in a polite manner. He knew Thranduil, knew that the King hardly gave compliments outright. This was to the best of his efforts. He did feel a sense of pride, as their horses cantered across the bridge and towards the main platform where several elves were already waiting to greet them. “I thank you for your kind words Thranduil.” He said as he dismounted. “But for now, let us change and reconvene for dinner. I am sure yo-”

“Ada!"

The cry rang loud and clear from the top of the stairs, cutting off whatever else Elrond had to say. The assembled Elves spun towards the source of the sound. A figure revealed itself. The skirt of their dress lifted to their knees, pale legs and feet bared to those standing below, bright golden hair flowing behind her, unbraided and free. And even from afar one could see a simple silver circlet resting on her forehead.

Lord Elrond's entire demeanor changed from a reserved elf and leader to that of an overjoyed parent, as he held his arms open in greeting, a smile on his lips.

"Annúneth!"

The elleth launched herself into her father's arms, holding him close, her face buried in his chest. Elrond returned the embrace just as lovingly as it was given. The Elves of Rivendell smiled fondly at the display of familial love. King Thranduil and the rest of his party looked on in slight surprise at the golden haired elleth who was now gazing up at her father, relief yet slight concern evident on her delicate features.

"You were not harmed, were you Ada?" She asked, her voice soft and light. The elves started to move, taking the horses to the stables while the guests stood where they were. Elrond shook his head, resting a hand atop the soft head of gold locks, so like her mother's.

"As you can see I am quite alright my dear Yelde. You need not worry about me." The elleth shook her head in response.

"I shall always worry when you leave Ada. As will Arwen, Elladen and Elrohir." Her gaze finally shifted from her father's familiar features to the newcomers. Elrond followed her line of sight. Keeping one arm around her shoulders he smiled at Thranduil.

“Thranduil, may I introduce you to my youngest, Annúneth.” He gently pushed his daughter towards the King. “Annúneth, this is Thranduil. He resides as King over Greenwood and is a dear friend.” The King towered over the elleth, but that did not deter her from meeting his graze briefly, before lowering into an elegant curtsy, her eyes dropping to the floor for a brief moment as she did. 

“You honor us with your presence King Thranduil.” She said, her voice ever polite and ever gentle. The older elf tilted his head in return. “And you surprise us with yours, Lady Annúneth.” His gaze shifted towards his friend, who was trying his best to hide his mirth. “Considering we were not made aware of it.”

Annúneth glanced at her father. “I shall leave Ada to explain his reasoning for I am sure he has an extensive list.” She cleverly stated, stepping away from her father’s embrace. Her grey eyes shifted to the rest of the assembled elves of Greenwood Annúneth lifted her head, her shoulders back as she addressed them.

In the blink of an eye she had morphed from a loving daughter, to the Lady of the House. And with her Mother having sailed to Valinor, and sister presently absent, the task did fall to her.

“Brothers and Sisters.” A look of surprise passed each elven face when she spoke in the tongue of their forest, Silvan. “On behalf of my father, Lord Elrond, Protector of Rivendell, I, his daughter Annúneth, welcome you to our home. Please follow me so that I may guide you to your rooms where you can freshen up before we all sit down for dinner. Your horses will be taken care of.”

With that the golden haired elven maid turned. When before she had been racing down the stairs, this time she seemed to glide along, leading the eager elves to where they would be residing during their stay at Rivendell.

Leaving a proud father, and an elven King who was seldom surprised and impressed.

And for once, Thranduil wasn’t loathe to admit that he was both.

                                             ————————–

“Will you now reveal to me the secrecy behind your youngest daughter’s existence Elrond?”

The wine hadn’t even been poured, the doors barely shut when Thrandul had demanded answers. Despite years on Middle-Earth, it would seem patience was one virtue his friend had no desire to perfect.

Thank the Valar he had enough for the both of them.

Pouring the wine, Elrond held the delicately wrought cup towards his friend. “It is a rather long tale my friend.” He stated, gesturing towards a pair of high backed chairs where he would usually conduct lessons with Annúneth. Thranduil, having taken a sip, sat down, watching as Elrond sat next to him. There was a brief moment of silence, as Elrond drank his wine.

Then he spoke.

“Celebrían and I were blessed and content with our three children. We had thought surely Valar did not seek to bless us again. But then we were wrong.” Elrond smiled as thoughts of his youngest daughter filled his head and made his heart swell with fatherly affection and love. “We were blessed with Annúneth in late Autumn in the year 1805.”

Thranduil raised a brow. “That is quite a long time to conceal the birth of an elven child Elrond.” He said, to which his friend nodded. “I agree, but it was her grandmother who insisted that we keep knowledge of her existence a secret, and tell as few others as possible.”

A frown creased his forehead as he pursed his lips, hands clasped around the stem of his wine glass. “We were not aware of the reasoning behind Galadriel‘s decision, but we did not question it. The only people to know of her existence were our family, a few other elves and, of course, Gandalf. No one outside of Rivendell, save her grandparents and Gandalf even knew of her.”

Bringing the glass to his lips he took a sip, gathering strength for what was to come next. “Then Celebrían was captured by Orcs and held captive for days.” His heart hurt even after all these years. The horror his beloved had to endure, the torture those monsters and inflicted upon her. “It was Annúneth who found where she was. She too possesses the gift of Sight. Yet hers only works when she is asleep, and is more concerned with present events and what outcome they might have. Through her intervention, the twins were able to save their Mother from a truly gruesome death and return with her.”

Thranduil frowned. “But then why hide her away? Why not use her gift to change the future as we see fit?” He asked, leaning forward as he awaited Elrond’s answer. The Elf Lord raised his eyes to meet Thranduil’s and the latter was surprised to see the utter sorrow and despair that was clear within his grey eyes. “The dreams she sees, my friend, they cause her unbearable pain. The night she had the dream about her mother dying, Annúneth was near inconsolable. She could feel her mother’s pain. And not just the physical strain.”

His eyes widening in realization, Thranduil felt a strange feeling akin to protection rise within him as he thought of the young elleth experiencing something truly grotesque and unmentionable. “You hid her away.” He said, his voice low. “So she would not meet people, so that she wouldn’t dream about them.”

Elrond nodded. “That was my intention when she was younger. But now, under her grandmother’s guidance, Annúneth has truly gained control over her abilities and has come further then I could ever have hoped.” The pride was evident in his tone as he finished his wine and stood. He paused at the window, having spied a familiar golden head, so like her mother’s, drifting by. Sometimes, when he looked outside his window and saw her, he mistook her for her mother.

Out of all his children, Annúneth had inherited her mother’s beautiful golden hair. Perhaps the reason her grandparents doted upon her so was because she reminded them of their own daughter.

“And are you willing to share your daughter with the world?” Thranduil asked, as he came to stand beside his friend, looking down at the elleth as well. Elrond laughed softly. “If I had my way, I would keep her hidden away from the horrors of the world.” He said truthfully but then he shook his head.

“And yet, I cannot keep something beautiful from the rest of the world. That would be truly selfish of me.”

                                            ————————–

Perhaps preparing a basket for a picnic that would happen in the morning wasn’t the best of ideas. She could always do that tomorrow, yet Annúneth found herself too excited to sleep. Instead, she had made her way towards the kitchen and lined up several baskets along the shelf, to be filled with all manners of eatables to take for the picnic tomorrow.

Her father had permitted she show their guests the beauty of their home, and she had suggested the meadows nearby. It was Spring, and the flowers would be in bloom. And since she had never had the chance to share her home with anyone else, Annúneth was eager to show their guests everything. Already she knew them all by name and was on her way to making friends with most of them.

Humming a long forgotten lullaby under her breath, Annúneth sifted through the jars of honey, trying to get the biggest ones from the back, where she kept them hidden away from her brothers. They had a tendency to go through honey as if it would run out and they would be left barren. Shaking her head at her brother’s obvious gluttonous nature when it came to any sweet concoction, Annúneth continued her task.

However, a sudden noise had her stilling in her movements.

She had been rummaging through a shelf that was partially hidden from the rest of the kitchen, yet gave her a full view of the room. And since she did not light a candle, choosing to work under the light of the moon, Annúneth was completely hidden in the shadows.

The sight of a hooded figure moving about the kitchen had her drawing a silent gasp.

Not a guest, for why would they sneak about wearing a hood?

A thief perhaps?

The figure moved about, inspecting the basket before taking out one of the loaves of bread Annúneth had placed within a few moments ago. From a young age, her brothers had taught her to be wary, and though it did not deter her from being the open and friendly elleth that she was, it did help her in drawing on suspicion when the situation called for it.

And presently, it did.

Her eyes darted around, to see if she could use something as a weapon. Silver grey eyes landed on a heavy pan. As quietly as she was able to Annúneth took one off, gripping the heavy handle between delicate hands. She would’ve preferred her sword, but since she didn’t have it on her, using the pan as a weapon to defend herself, if need be, would have to do.

The figure’s back was turned to her, and she could make out the soft sound of chewing as they ate the bread.

Providing Annúneth with the perfect opportunity to step out of her hiding spot, the frying pan swinging through the air.

                                            ————————–

He had not expected to return early.

Or rather so late.

It would seem everyone had retired for the night, and since Legolas and his few companions had not entered from the main entrance, their arrival went unannounced. Something that he preferred really, since he had no desire to make pleasantries.

At least not until he had eaten something.

While his companions took care of the horses and moved off to search for the rest of their party, Legolas made his way towards the kitchen. He knew Rivendell well enough to navigate his way through the dark and towards the empty kitchen. He kept his hood up, not wanting to be recognized by his hair. A rather unusual color even amongst elves.

Catching sight of the several baskets that were lined up neatly on the counter, the young Prince paused, a little curious at the arrangement. His growling stomach, however, didn’t give him much time to contemplate on it. Moving forward, he peered into one of the baskets, and seeing a loaf of bread within, pulled it out. Tearing off a piece he began to chew, enjoying the milky taste that was infused within the bread. Strange, yet not at all bad. Or perhaps he was simply too hungry to complain.

The unsuspecting elf was simply enjoying his meager, yet delicious, meal when the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. His eyes widened, he dropped the half eaten bread he held. Pivoting on his feet, and seeing the descending pan aimed towards his head, the Prince threw his hand out, catching the hand that held the handle and stopping it midair.

And not a moment too soon, since the pan stopped just a few inches shy of his temple.

                                            ————————–

The two figures stood motionless, their gazes locked.

The sudden pivot of his head had the hood of Legolas’s cloak slipping from his head, allowing his assailant to meet his eyes without the shadow of it obscuring their vision.

Annúneth had to tilt her head back to meet the stranger’s gaze. She could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest as she allowed her eyes to take in the rest of the stranger’s features. Then again, she was not the only one occupied in such a manner. Perhaps it would not have been wise to think of the stranger as handsome, despite the dirt that marred his face, and yet, she found herself thinking along the words regardless. Though that did not mean her resolve to hit him, should he be a threat, lessened.

To say he was surprised at the ferocity his assailant seemed to exude would be an understatement. Legolas was taken aback by the strength he had to use, just to keep the elleth’s choice of weapon knocking him unconscious. She was strong, of that he had no doubt. And yet, the fierceness did not take away from the beauty that was her face. Not to mention her hair. A halo of pure light that seemed to cascade down her back in rivers of gold.

A twitch of her arm had him returning to this current predicament.

“Why do you attack me?” The stranger asked in her mother tongue, his grip on her wrist not loosening. A good thing, Annúneth supposed, since she would’ve hit him. A scowl creased her forehead as she responded. “Do I not have the right to defend my own home from a vagrant vagabond such as yourself?”

Blue eyes blinked. “Vagabond?” He repeated, and Annúneth could see that despite the wariness in his expression there was amusement there at her choice of word.

The both of them were still locked in position, with Annúneth’s arms raised above her head, fingers grasping the handle of the pan. However, both of her wrists were being kept in a firm grip by Legolas. Remembering what her brothers had taught her, Annúneth pivoted on her feet, throwing her shoulder out to try and knock the elf off his feet, or at least surprise him to let go of her wrists.

Which he did, allowing Annúneth to raise the pan in front of her as a makeshift weapon. “Make yourself known, lest you wish to be thrown out.” She stated, her voice firm and sure. Even as her grey eyes flickered to his hair. A color that looked vaguely familiar, yet somehow, she could not seem to place where she had seen it before.

Despite the weariness that wore down on him, and the fact that he should end the confrontation by simply telling her who he was, Legolas paused. Her referral to him as a Vagrant Vagabond had been amusing, and he wanted to hear what else she would say about him. “And if I wish to keep my identity a secret?” He asked, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he picked up the bread he had dropped and placed it behind him on the counter. “Will you truly throw me out in the cold? Come now, I had heard tales of the hospitality of the elves of Rivendell, was it all simply a myth?”

As he spoke, Legolas began to walk, prompting Annúneth to take a step as well, and without the either of them realizing, they began to trace a circle with each step they took. “We offer hospitality to those who use the front door like civilized beings, not steal in, in the dead of the night.” She responded, her words sharp and clear, grey eyes never wavering from the figure. It disconcerted her, how ill at ease he appeared to be. Perhaps he had been here before? But then she would’ve met him.

Legolas paused briefly to pick up a bushel of grapes from a fruit platter and began to eat it. “I am not civilized, is that what you mean?” He asked, speaking around a mouthful of grapes, and not bothering to wipe some of the juice that traced from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. A happy accident that only seemed to strengthen Annúneth’s opinion of him. “You look as if you took a tumble down a hill, straight into a river of mud, before purposefully step into every piece of dirt you could find.” She responded, prompting the stranger to glance down at himself.

“I do not look that bad.” He responded, looking a little put off, to which Annúneth smirked. “You have leaves in your hair.” She deadpanned.

Legolas ran a hand through his hair, and sure enough, a few wayward leaves fluttered to the floor. He grimaced. Perhaps her wording of him had been correct. “Since that is the case,” He muttered to himself, before pausing in his steps. Turning so he could look at the elleth, the young Prince tilted his head in a slight bow, a hand over his heart, his gaze trained to the ground. “Pray will you not show this Vagabond the kindness he does not deserve My Lady, and allow him a place to clean and rest.” His posture stayed the same, but his gaze lifted to meet her own from across the room.

She may be a wary young elf maiden, but she was not without compassion. His words, nay the honesty in his eyes, had her lowering her arms, the pan now hanging at her side. “And how can I be sure, that you are not here to hurt my family or my home?” She asked, unsure how he would reassure her of that.

Legolas straightened, hand hand still over his heart, and something deep within him compelled him to say the next few words. “You have my word, My Lady. While I walk these halls, no harm shall come to your home, your loved ones.”

His gaze held hers.

“Or you.”

                                            ————————–

Call her a naive fool, but she took his word to heart.

And had found herself leading him towards one of the empty rooms where the rest of the guests were staying. She was acutely aware of his presence beside her, as she navigated through the darkened hallway with ease. While Legolas had to force his eyes to stay straight ahead, since they seemed to have developed a habit of straying in Annúneth‘s direction every now and then.

Sooner then he would’ve liked, they came to a stop in front of a door, which she gestured for him to enter, with a delicate sweep of her hand. Legolas, stepped forward, his resting hand on the handle. But then he paused. 

Annúneth, who had turned around without a word, intent on walking back to her own room, had paused as well.

Even now, as she walked to the private dining hall where breakfast was being served, Annúneth felt a strange tremble run through her body, as the memory of last night played in her mind.

They had both looked over their shoulders at one another, their gazes meeting and despite the late hour, Annúneth had never felt more awake then she did in that moment, standing there in the presence of the stranger. While Legolas found himself wanting to stay in her presence, despite the fact he did not even know her name.

And before he could even ask, she had walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I see you have seen to grace us with your presence Sister.” Elladan called as Annúneth entered the room, closing the door behind her as she did. She smiled as she approached the table and took a seat beside her father. “Not all of us have the luxury to come straight down to breakfast as soon as they are awake Brother.” The younger elleth responded, quickly leaning forward and kissing her father in greeting.

Tilting her head in greeting in Thranduil’s direction, Annúneth turned to break her fast. As the siblings squabbled, teased and argued throughout the meal, Elrond barely batted an eye as he ate, his plate being filled at least twice by his daughter without his knowing, since he was busy speaking with Thranduil. The elf-king, however, noticed everything, his sharp eye and keen ears picking up on everything.

Noticing, in particular, the extra seat that had been placed beside him, that remained empty.

Clearly Legolas had slept in, tired from his late arrival.

Shame, he had wanted his son to make himself known to their hosts during his presence.

                                            ————————–

The picnic Annúneth had planned, set out once breakfast was over. It was only an hour’s ride to the flower meadows that was teeming with woodland creatures of all manner. The grass was tall, as were the flowers, the animals quite tame, used to the elves who would come to visit from time to time.

The place was something of a sanctuary for Annúneth, and she was more then happy to share it with her guests. They dismounted from their horses, set them loose to wander about and soon everyone began to do the same.

Fingers skimmed over flowers. Trees were climbed and branches used as perches. Deer were petted and stroked. Butterflies were chased and admired. Flutes were played, and harps were strung. Food was shared and eaten. A few voices rose in song, gentle and soothing.

And in the middle of it all, Annúneth sat alone amongst the tall stalks, with only the top of her golden head visible, with a pretty flower crown adorning her forehead, her hair unbound, her face aglow.

Her delicate fingers worked on making another flower crown. While her own was made using flowers of varying shades of yellow, the one she made presently comprised of flowers that nature had shaded with a certain blue hue.

A blue that reminded her of a certain stranger.

As was the norm, she was humming under her breath, sometimes singing along with the rest of her companions, content in her task.

That is until someone decided to join her.

“We meet again.” His voice came, familiar and yet unknown at the same time. Without looking up from her fingers as she twined the flower stalks, Annúneth responded. “You are within the vicinity of my home. It would’ve been strange if we did not meet again.”

He laughed. The sound strangely melodic, or at least to her ears. An odd comparison, yet it made sense. She still did not look at him. “Are you still going to treat me as the vagabond you believe I am?” He asked, to which she responded with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “If the shoe fits.” Humming in thought, as if contemplating on how to make her see that she was wrong, Legolas reached out to pick one of the blue flowers she would be using for her crown and twirled it between his fingers.

“I have done my best to appear presentable. Will you not look to see if it is so?” There was simply something about her, that prompted him to get a rise out of her somehow. Be it in a positive or negative light. It was rather unlike him, to be vying for the attention of an elleth in such a way. And yet, he found he could not help himself.

Setting the finished crown in her lap, Annúneth pursed her lips. Valar, he was being more persistent then her brothers. And that was saying something.

Still, she turned her head, a few wisps of her hair waving gently in the breeze, partially covering her lips and nose, though she made no attempt to push them back.

The previous night, when she had seen him, Annúneth had seen past the dirt and grime, and had seen the handsome face beneath. Somehow, his face appeared different then it was. The night before, he had appeared mysterious and alluring. Perhaps an effect of the moon? That must be it, for in the sunlight, he appeared calm, at ease and............free.

And just as handsome as he had the night before.

Perhaps he should have braced himself before he had asked her to look at him. Because while she was taken aback by him, he certainly felt his very heart stutter in his chest as those piercing grey eyes lifted to meet his gaze. While the moon had made her hair appear almost silvery last night, the morning sun showed its true golden beauty.

As the breeze blew, gentle and slow, the two elves found themselves simply sitting there, looking at one another. Caught in some spell that neither of them had cast. Or at least not consciously.

“Have I....passed your judgement?” He asked, his voice low, to which she responded with a slight tilt of her head, the action just barely noticeable. “It will take more then your charming attributes to earn my trust.”

Slowly, as if afraid that she were a dream that would fade should he startle either himself or her, his hand lifted, fingers curling along the soft strands of her hair. The tips of his fingers skimmed along the warm skin of her cheek, slowly tracing a path towards her ear, where he tucked the wayward wisps of hair.

All so he could see her face fully.

“Then perhaps I should strive harder to win it.” He said, and if anyone were to hear the conviction in his tone, they would have no doubt of his intention to do just that.

Annúneth felt her very breath stall, and had to force herself to keep her eyes from fluttering shut, just to savor the sensation of his touch against her skin. This was so strange. How could a complete stranger, one she deemed rude and a vagabond, have such an intense effect on her?

His blue eyes seemed to be speaking to the very depth of her being, and it did not make her feel vulnerable. On the contrary, she had never felt more.........safe. Which was a rather rare occurrence given her gifts.

Her lips set in a gentle smile that was just barely there. “I look forward to seeing you put in the effort Vagabond.” The elleth lifted the flower crown she had finished, and carefully set it around his head, admiring how the blue petals matched his eyes perfectly.

Her fingers accidentally grazed his temple as she pulled back. Legolas stilled, his eyes widening a fraction as a warmth raced through his body. One that engulfed his entire heart and simmered just there under his skin, a pleasant sensation that he would be reliving for the rest of the day.

Annúneth felt the shift in the air between them, prompting her to return her hands to her lap, lest she find herself unconsciously tracing his features, an urge she felt rise within her the more they sat there, looking at one another. Truly whatever spell had been cast was quite a powerful one, for the only way it was broken, was a voice calling out to Annúneth.

Breaking away from his gaze, Annúneth called back to whoever had said her name.

“Annúneth.” She heard him say, startling her into realizing that it was the first time her name was uttered in his presence. “Is that your name?” He asked, to which she raised an eyebrow. “Considering I responded to it, it would not take a particularly sharp mind to realize that it was.”

Unlike before, there was no sharpness behind her words. Just a simple, playful teasing lilt of her voice that had him smiling at her. “And now that you know my name.” She continued, oblivious to the way he was smiling at her. “It is only right that I should know yours.”

She glanced over her shoulder, waving at whoever had called her, informing them that she would be with them momentarily. “Legolas.” He said, once she had returned her gaze to his.

Unbidden, his name rose to her lips. “Legolas.” Rising to her feet, Annúneth tilted her head at him playfully, the flower crown still adorning her head. “I hope your stay at Rivendell will be a pleasant one.”

With that she turned and walked away, leaving him, and missing the words he whispered. Words that were lost to the wind. “I believe it already is.”

                                             ————————–

“Elrond, I have been patient enough and I believe it is time I tell you my true reason for coming here.”

Having been expecting such a conversation to come up soon, Elrond responded with a nod and a gesture for Thranduil to take a seat beside him. He was in his study, going over a manuscript Gandalf had brought him while passing through Rivendell. “I believe I am aware of what you speak of.” He said, shutting the leather bound book and setting it aside. Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

“So you have seen it I presume.”

It was more of a statement then an inquiry, but Elrond still nodded.

Since he possessed the gift of foresight, it was not surprising one of his children should inherit a semblance of it in some way. Though while Annúneth shared all that she would see in her dreams with her father, Elrond did not share much. At least not when his visions pertained to his children.

And he had had one such vision. Of Annúneth. His beloved sunshine.

“As a father I have been dreading this day.” He spoke, looking towards the wall where several portraits hung. One of each of his children. His gaze was focused on the elleth with golden hair and expressive grey eyes. “But I know as well as anyone, that no matter what, we cannot change what is predestined.”

Thranduil too followed Elrond’s line of sight. For a moment a stab of pain echoed through his very soul, as he was reminded of the Queen he had lost so long ago. His beloved.

“No, we cannot.” He muttered, thinking of all the ways he had tried to save her from her gruesome fate but had failed. “But I give you my word Elrond.” The two elven patriarchs turned their heads, knowing a solemn vow was to take place.

“I shall take care of her, as if she were my own.” Thranduil vowed.

If Elrond was willing to agree to it, then surely his own son would have no qualms about the arrangement. After all, Elrond would not send his beloved daughter to a place where she would not be loved.

“It would seem the joining of our two houses has been inevitable.” Elrond said with a sad smile. “I wish I could say that I was happy about it, but in truth, my heart is torn, for one day Annúneth will leave Rivendell. Leave me.”

The Elven King shook his head. “I have no desire to take her away from you anytime soon Elrond. What the both of us have spoken of, I have no intention of speaking to my son about it for a while.” Though he had a reputation of being cold and heartless, Thranduil did have a soft spot for his only child.

And now, it would seem, Annúneth was beginning to make room in his heart as well.

“I was gifted the chance to find love, as were you.” Glancing in the direction of Annúneth‘s portrait, Thranduil continued. “I want to give our children that same gift.”

Smiling, Elrond nodded sagely. “I will have to write Galadriel and Celeborn of your intention, but I agree. Let us see what fate has in store for our children. I believe there was a rather interesting interaction between them only a few nights ago.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow, curious to know what had occurred. Elrond smiled.

“They are not aware of who the other is, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I am able.”

It was rare for the Elven King to laugh out of amusement, for he rarely found reasons to be happy. And yet in that moment, the sheer absurdity of what had occurred as Elrond recounted it, had him throwing his head back and laughing.

                                             ————————–

Annúneth had never been one to shy away from people.

Even when she was younger, and barely had any grasp on her abilities, she would still wish to sit amongst others and converse, or sometimes just sit and listen.

The occasions where she wished to be by herself were rare.

But then sometimes, there were nights of dreams and nightmares that would weigh heavy on her mind. So many fates of so many people morphing together and overwhelming her, body and soul.

And this was one of those nights.

She sat awake on her bed, arms resting atop her knees where she had pulled her legs to her chest, her gaze listless as she stared at the open windows in front of her, the soft gossamer curtains fluttering gently. No matter how hard she tried, the visions would not leave her alone. For years she had trained with her grandmother as well as her father, to try and contain her abilities.

Not suppress them. They could never be suppressed. The visions she had of all those she met was just as involuntary to her as breathing. Sometimes, she would get visions that would show her the joy that particular being was feeling in that moment. But then there were times when all she experienced was heartache, pain and fear.

And this was one of those nights.

It would seem a few elves she had met a decade or so ago were to be slaughtered by a band of Orcs. Yes, she could send out a raven to warn them, but what if it was already happening. What if she were too late?

Hence the reason for her being awake so late at night, with her heart heavy and her mind made up to avoid company for a day or so.

For reasons unknown to her, her mind conjured the image of a certain vagabond. And that image only solidified in her mind’s eye, chasing away the remaining clouds of despair of the visions she had just seen. She frowned, biting her lower lip as she slid out of bed. Quickly changing into a simple dress and, as was the norm for her, choosing to be barefoot, the elf-maiden stepped out of her room, into the empty hallway, and made her way towards her sanctuary.

The thought of Legolas keeping her company.

                                             ————————–

He could not find her anywhere.

Legolas had walked the entirety of Rivendell and had been unable to locate Annúneth. Worry was beginning to gnaw at his chest. He knew she was not out riding for her beloved horse was in the stables. And there was no hunting party or picnic planned that she could have gone to.

It was rather the norm, for him to run into her at some point during the day. Most of the time they only nodded at one another in passing, though he always turned to look at her as she would continue on her way. Since their shared time together in the meadow, fate had not given them the chance to be in one another’s presence for longer then a few minutes.

And Legolas quickly found that despite knowing nearly nothing of the elleth, he missed her company. And he wanted to remedy the fact that he barely knew anything about her by, well, getting to know her more.

Hence his current mission: to locate Annúneth.

Opening the door to the armory, he was surprised to see his father and Elrond standing together and having a rather animated discussion with a swordsmith. Normally he would’ve joined them, but right then he was starting to get a little anxious since he couldn’t find Annúneth.

He had hoped to turn away unnoticed, but his father always had a habit of knowing when he was near. “Legolas, what brings you here?” The Elven King asked as the swordsmith walked away to whatever task he had been appointed. “I am looking for someone.” He responded, to which both Lords glanced at one another, a look passing between them that had the Prince raising his brows in silent question. Elrond smiled as he turned his attention back to Legolas. “And who is it that you are looking for?” He asked. As Lord of Rivendell, he would know where Annúneth was, wouldn’t he?

Stepping forward eagerly he voiced. “I am looking for an elleth by the name of Annúneth. Perhaps you know her?” Mirth shone in the elder elf’s eyes. Even his father looked amused, and that hardly ever happened, which only served to confuse him even more.

“I do know her. And if you cannot find her anywhere, she has probably retreated to her garden. There is a tapestry, in the Western Wing, that depicts the first meeting of Beren and Lúthien. You will find a door behind it.” He had barely finished speaking before Legolas had quickly bowed and made his retreat.

“Beren and Lúthien?” Thranduil asked, appearing just as amused as before.

Elrond smiled. “Annúneth’s favorite tale.” He said as a way of explanation before they both turned their attention to the daggers that had been in the works.

                                             ————————–

Just as Elrond had told him, the door was behind the tapestry. And beyond it was a garden unlike any he had seen before. 

It was by no means a large garden, but was comfortably sized and circular in shape, with a tree in the center, its branches laden with white flowers. Beds of flowers dotted the landscape, and a small fountain fixed into one of the walls trickled merrily into a white marble basin. 

And while the garden demanded to be explored, it was the figure that lay upon the ground just under the tree that grabbed his attention. As he approached, Annúneth sat up, the surprise clear on her face as she blinked at him. There was grass in her hair, and white petals from where the wind was blowing them to the ground.

They both blinked at one another in surprise.

Annúneth at seeing him there, in her sanctuary that only a few people knew of, and Legolas at the realization that he had been distraught over not knowing where she was all day. But then, he suddenly realized, perhaps he hadn’t seen her because she didn’t want to be seen. Perhaps she had wanted to be left alone. Unsure whether Annúneth wanted him there or not, the Prince was quick to try and retreat.

“Forgive me, My Lady. I did not wish to intrude.” He bowed before walking back towards the door.

“Wait!”

Her gentle implore had him stopping in his tracks, his hand grazing the bronze of the handle, ready to push it down. “You are not intruding.” Her voice, gentle and kind was low. “Though I am curious as to how you found me here.” Turning, Legolas found her standing underneath the tree, her gaze fixed on him. “Lord Elrond.” He responded, his voice slightly hoarse. He paused, cleared his throat. “Lord Elrond told me where I’d be able to find you.” The Prince admitted, which had Annúneth shaking her head, a fond smile on her face.

Sighing, she raised her arms on either side as a gesture of welcome. “Well since you are already here, why not explore? It would be a shame for you to not be aware of the hidden beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

Gaining some of the confidence he seemed to have lost at the sight of her so carefree and unbound as she appeared to be in the beauty of the Garden, Legolas smiled. “That would be a false claim, My Lady, since I have seen all the beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

His intense gaze never once wavered from her face.

Her mouth opened, as if she were ready to dismiss what he said and prove him wrong, but then she stopped. Realization dawned across her features, which was immediately followed by her cheeks glowing with a hint of rosiness that was so unlike her. Not to mention the way in which her heart thumped in her chest, and pleasure swirled through her very being at the compliment he had given her.

This would not be the first occasion her beauty had been mentioned, though it was always secondary compared to her far lovelier older sister Arwen. Not that Annúneth held any contempt for her sister because it was the truth. Arwen was beautiful.

And yet, at that moment, having Legolas say those words to her, she couldn’t help but feel as if she truly were the most beautiful being on Middle-Earth. And with the way he was looking at her, any on-looker would truly believe it as well. 

Legolas was able to see the physical effects of his word, and though it may have pleased any other elf that his words had been the result of it, the young Prince found himself thinking of other way to make her smile as she was right then.

Or more specifically, smile at him that way.

Silence followed his words, though not an awkward one. On the contrary, it felt strange. Legolas felt as he did before he would face an opponent. Charged and slightly anxious, eager to see what the next few moments would bring, and anticipating the outcome of it as well.

Unable to withstand the silence, or rather his gaze, any longer, Annúneth turned her head to gaze around the circular room. “This was my Mother’s garden. She would come here to clear her mind whenever she would feel distressed over something.” The elleth said, smiling at the sight of a bird that was nesting in a bush nearby. Stepping away from the door, Legolas too looked around, unable to help but admire the natural beauty that surrounded them.

Though what she said, did give him pause. “Is that why you are here. Something distresses you?” He asked, his voice gentle as he came to stand in front of her, just a foot or so away. Annúneth sighed, but nodded. “Will you tell me what it is? If it will ease your mind?” The Prince continued, not wanting to see the glint of worry in her eyes as he was right then.

Her Father had told her never to speak of her Gift to anyone, unless she trusted them completely. She had only met him a few weeks ago, and yet..............

Annúneth knew that she could trust Legolas with her life if it ever came to that.

Sighing, the elleth closed her eyes briefly. “Then perhaps it is best that we sit for this conversation.” So saying, she glided to the ground, settling on the soft grass and looked up, waiting for him to do the same. Annúneth sit closer to the tree trunk so they would have a place to rest their backs against. Once sitting beside her, and mirroring her posture so that they were both leaning against the tree.

He turned his head towards her, waiting patiently as she inhaled deeply before exhaling. “I suppose it all started when my Mother was taken by the Orcs.”

                                             ————————–

“It must’ve been hard. Seeing your Mother like that.”

It was, but Ada was always by my side. As were my brothers and sister.”

“You are fortunate to have so many people who care for you.”

“I know.”

                                             ————————–

“So you thought it was a good idea to steal your Father’s sword?”

“I was only an elfling! I was I to know it would be too heavy to lift.”

“Did you wake up the Master of Arms because you dropped it?”

“Yes, and was branded a would-be-thief by the entire Greenwood.”

                                             ————————–

“I have taken up painting for that very reason.”

“I could help you if you’d like. Mother was an avid painter, and I would sit with her in front of my own canvas with an easel to try and paint. Of course I could hardly sit still for long then ten minutes.”

“You sound as if you were quite a handful.”

“There is no doubt that I was. Even now.

                                             ————————–

“I have tried my best, but I will never get used to how sour grapes taste for me.”

“But if you sprinkle them with some sugar, does it not improve them?”

“The juice inside makes my cheeks ache. And it causes me to tear up.”

“And that is bad?”

                                             ————————–

“Do you miss your Mother?”

“I do, but I know I shall see her when it is my time to sail. Though I am sorry about your Mother.”

“She died an honorable death, fighting for her people.”

“I’m sure her reason to fight was to make sure you lived in a safer world.”

“That is a nice thought. Thank you.”

                                             ————————–

“I believe that the Valar created our Fëa because we each have a purpose here on Middle-Earth. It may not be big, but perhaps it is significant.”

“I suppose one need not change the world to have an impact. One only needs to have impact on another being.”

“Yes.”

                                             ————————–

Time lost all meaning.

How long did they sit there?

How long did they speak?

How much did she tell him about her Gift?

How much did he tell her about his Burdens?

Did she truly manage to keep the names of her family a secret?

Did he truly manage to keep the names of his parents veiled?

By the time they ran out of words to say, their postures had shifted without their knowing.

Annúneth had her head resting on his shoulder, while Legolas had one of her hand gently gripped in between both of his own. His own head was leaning on top of her own. They found themselves drawing comfort from the other’s presence. 

The last time Legolas remembered taking comfort from another had been when his Mother had been alive. It felt strange to rely on someone for something as simple as comfort, and yet, he doubted he would feel at peace with anyone else as he did with Annúneth. Legolas had no idea what it was about her that had him feeling this way. But what he was aware of, was that since that night, when Annúneth had called him a Vagabond and had nearly knocked him out with a frying pan, his life had changed completely.

As the youngest in the family, Annúneth had never had any want for comfort. So then, why was it that with Legolas so near her, with his warmth, his voice and his presence surrounding her, had the elleth feeling as if she had never truly experienced comfort before as she did right then. Sure her Father’s embraces, and her sibling’s comforting words were no comparison. But with Legolas? She felt as if her very Fëa was at peace. Where moments ago her mind had been fluttering in the breeze, like a leaf caught in a disturbing wind, now she felt grounded. Almost as if, someone had taken her hand and pulled her back down before she floated too far out of reach.

If she were to touch the stars, she found herself thinking, she wanted to do so with him.

A bright smile on her lips, she stood, pulling Legolas up with her as she did. The Prince looked at her, slightly confused. Slipping her hand out of his, albeit reluctantly, and stepping towards the lowest branch, Annúneth jumped, catching the strong arm of the tree between her soft palms and hoisting herself up. Once she was sitting atop, she looked down at him, that smile still present on her lips.

Understanding her silent inquiry, Legolas gripped another branch and climbed up as well. Satisfied he would follow her, Annúneth began to climb higher.

Where they had been talking for hours only moments before, their ascent was in complete silence. Every now and then, they would pause, the leaves of the tree allowing them to view one another through the foliage. Their eyes would meet, playful smiles on their lips before they would continue.

Sometimes they would grab for the same branch, and their hands would touch. Giving them both pause as they would try to comprehend what that feeling was that shot through their very being and settled into the deepest recesses of their hearts.

Steady and sure, they both emerged at the top. The tree was high enough to surpass the circular walls of the Garden. Looking around, one could see the entirety of the valley Annúneth called home. It was a view she had seen before, and yet it never ceased to take her breath away. As someone who had never experienced the vision before him, Legolas could not help but stare, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“Even after all the years I’ve lived, I am glad that there are still surprises waiting for me to discover them.” He admitted, finally tearing his eyes away from the view to glance at the elleth next to him. Yet she had her gaze trained towards the night sky.

When had the hour grown so late, neither of them knew.

The stars shone where they always had, since before the Awakening of the Elves, while the moon gleamed where she had been hung in the sky so long ago, with the last flower of Teleprion, the silver tree of Valinor, encased within.

“Have you heard of the tale of how the moon got her dark spots?” She asked, her grey eyes appearing silver under the shine of the full moon. “Yes.” Legolas responded, before adding. “Though I would like to hear it once more, if you were willing to refresh my memory with the tale.”

She rolled her eyes at his obvious teasing, but indulged in his request. “It is said that the moon was once unblemished and crystal clear as an orb, shining down upon Middle-Earth in all her glory. Tilion, the Maia who would guide the moon through the night sky was proud to hear praise of the moon’s beauty and reveled in the task he had been giving, which he did so diligently.” Her hand came to rest atop a branch that Legolas was gripping to keep her balance. Unbeknownst to them, their fingers began to inch closer.

Shifting slightly, which had him leaning closer towards Annúneth to keep his balance, Legolas spoke. “That is until he caught sight of Arien, the Maia who guided the sun across the sky, and fell in love with her.” Smiling softly, Annúneth nodded. “He was so taken by her beauty, they say, the way her golden hair seemed to shine just as bright as the sun. Her kind smile that held the very warmth of the sun. And the joy in her eyes, that seemed to never dim of the laughter that he would hear the moment she would take to the sky.”

Legolas’s gaze found the several dark spots that marred the once clear surface of the silvery orb. “His love for her had him wandering too close to the sun, and the moon was burned.” The Prince whispered, not realizing how the tips of his fingers were now intertwined with Annúneth’s.

The elleth nodded. “So now, he has to keep his distance and love and admire her from afar, though some stories say that he would love nothing more then to be in her presence, just once, even if it would burn him. Which is why, even now, sometimes the Sun and Moon appear in the sky at the same time. Because Tilion wishes nothing more then to catch a glimpse of Arien. Although,” Here her voice took on a slightly dismal tone, as if her very heart was burdened by what happened next. “He learned that he had to keep his distance after an error on his part.”

Her story had him frowning slightly. “Was there a reason behind the story My Lady?” He asked, to which she sighed and turned her gaze to look at him. “Or are you simply referring to the fact that I might burn, should I get too close to you?”

Her gaze snapped towards him, more then a little surprised at how quickly he had picked up on what she’d been trying to say. The wind blew softly, the leaves rustling around them breaking the temporary silence as they continued to look upon one another.

Blue on grey.

Grey on blue.

“A little too late for that.” He finally said, his voice barely above a whisper as his gaze turned tender and soft. Grasping her fingers completely, he raised the hand he’d been touching to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss atop her knuckles. “For I believe I was burned the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Silence followed his confession, and Legolas’s heart sang with joy for having spoken what it had been carrying within it for so long.

“Annúneth.” She said, prompting him to tilt his head at her curiously. “I have burned you.” The elleth explained. “The least I can do is ask you to call me by my name.” Laughing softly to himself, the elf nodded. “Only if you were to call me by mine.” He offered, to which she hummed. “Truth be told, I prefer Vagabond, over Legolas.”

The Prince smiled, turning his body so that he would face her fully. “I do not mind in the slightest.” A mischievous glint lit in his blue eyes, putting Annúneth a little on edge because she knew he loved to tease. “Although I am a little curious as to why you would assume that you are the sun and I, the moon?”

The golden haired elleth lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Well mostly because everyone say that I have a sunny disposition.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “While your disposition has been whispered to be as mysterious as the moon.” Nodding in slight approval, with a look of satisfaction on his face, Legolas hummed under his breath. “And acceptable explanation.” He mused, before continuing. “Though I assume it had nothing to do with the fact that you have golden hair and mine is lighter?”

Pursing her lips to keep from giggling at his obvious vexation that the explanation was, in reality, much more simpler then what she had already offered, Annúneth spoke. “That would be a little too obvious. I was simply trying to help your image by comparing you to the moon. Was it not to your satisfaction?” She asked, unknowingly gravitating towards him, her body leaning closer with each whisper of word.

Letting out a sigh that sounded so wounded, Legolas nodded. “Well I suppose I shall accept it.” He said, barely able to get the words out given the smile on his lips. “Albeit reluctantly.” He added in jest. The hand that did not rest atop her own on the branch had lifted up to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing across her rosy cheek in a gentle caress. Her heart leaped in her chest at the loving touch, while his heart stalled when she consciously tilted her head against his touch.

“The smile on your lips says otherwise.” Annúneth challenged, still leaning closer, barely aware that Legolas was mirroring her movement, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller.

“What smile?” The words were barely out of his mouth when her lips found his, and everything else, even their conversation, became inconsequential.

For truly nothing was of more consequence, then having Annúneth press her lips against his, shy and timid, and yet, sure, certain and unwavering at the same time. Legolas, on his part, returned the sweet gesture with a firm press of his own lips. He was a warrior, and the word gentle had never been one to be associated with him, and yet, in that moment, he was the very epitome of gentleness and tenderness.

The kiss lasted for only a few moments, a simple brush of lips, tentative and cautious.

Just as any new love would be.

And yet they both knew that for them, nothing would ever be the same.

                                             ————————–

There was quite the surprise waiting for them once they descended the tree. Annúneth jumped down from the last branch, right into Legolas’s waiting arms. A joyful laugh echoed in the otherwise silent Garden, which had one of the newcomers smiling to themselves as he watched the two elves simply revel in one another’s presence.

His friend who stood next to him, had finally run out of patience.

“I do not believe it is courteous of a guest to disappear for an entire day without warning.” Thranduil spoke, the amusement in his tone betraying him as to how he truly felt about the situation.

Both Legolas and Annúneth stopped dead in their tracks. Their surprise had more to do with the knowledge that they had been together for an entire day and had not noticed the time passing. “Forgive us, My Lords.” Legolas said, his tone apologetic as he bowed. “Annúneth and I lost track of time as we spoke.” He admitted, though the use of her name had Annúneth smiling softly at him.

A development which did not go unnoticed by the two older Elves.

She turned to her father and smiled apologetically. “I am sorry if I worried you Ada.” No sooner had the words left her mouth when Legolas turned to look at her, utter surprise on his face as he repeated the last word she had spoken. “Ada?” He turned so he could look at her fully. “Lord Elrond is your father?” He asked, which had Annúneth frowning in confusion. “Did you not know?” She asked, to which he quickly shook his head.

Thranduil sighed, knowing exactly how the rest of the conversation would play out. “It is rather unbecoming of a Prince to not know a Lady’s father Legolas. I thought I had taught you better.”

The word Prince seemed to have the effect on Annúneth the same way the Ada had had on Legolas. “Prince?” Her voice echoed against the Garden wall. Having recovered, only barely, from the new information he had been exposed to, Legolas couldn’t help but repeat the words she had spoken to him.

“Did you not know?” He asked, to which Annúneth hit him on the shoulder, though there was no malice behind her act. “Of course not! I would never have called you a Vagabond if I had known.” She paused. “Then again, perhaps I still would have. No I am sure I would have.” A nod of affirmation had her reaffirming her statement.

Elrond chuckled, delighted to see his daughter seemed to take the news in a stride. And yet he was not unaware of the change he could see in his daughter. There seemed to be a glow about her, one that he was sure, she herself was unaware of, for she shared it with Legolas. “It would be best if we were to continue this discussion in my study. Perhaps over some breakfast?” He suggested, already steering Thranduil through the door.

Wordlessly glancing at one another, the two elves, feeling as if they were young elflings once again, about to be chastised, followed after their respective fathers.

                                             ————————–

“I hear you are to leave tomorrow.”

The sound of her voice had him lifting his head from where he had been putting the last of his essentials in his bag. Annúneth stood there in his doorway, dressed in a blue gown. A blue that seemed rather familiar, yet he could not place it. He nodded, the very gesture reluctant as he picked up the belt that held held hid dagger. “As soon as the sun rises, we will be off.” He said, his voice sounding hard even to his own ears.

He felt her walk towards him, his eyes still glued to his best which he was fiddling with more out of the purpose of doing something. “I had hoped that you would stay a little longer, but it is not to be.”

She was standing in front of him now, and her presence was what urged him to lift his head and gaze upon her lovely face.

A sad smiled played across her lips as she held out a bag he didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Just something I thought would help you on your journey.” Opening the bag, he took note of the several items of food nestled within, carefully packed for his use for as long as they would last on the journey back home. He smiled. “Thank you for your kindness, Annúneth.” He said, setting the bag aside. “I shall surely miss it when I return home.”

Annúneth smiled. “Well I should hope so. I would be greatly offended if you did not for then I would have wasted my hours while entertaining you Prince Legolas.” She teased, though he could see that her heart wasn’t truly in it. But he indulged her nonetheless with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh? Was it out of kindness that you would spend your time with me, My Lady?” He returned, raising an eyebrow at her even as she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps I simply took pity on you for your lack of friends. You did seem rather lonely when you stole into the kitchen Vagabond.” The Vagabond chuckled at her words as the both of them lapsed into silence.

Inhaling deeply, Annúneth cast her eyes towards the bed where his bags were ready to be saddled for the morning. “You really are leaving.” She muttered, as if the words were only just beginning to make sense to her. Legolas nodded, reaching out to guide her face back to him with a tender stroke of her cheek. “Yes, but I do not wish our last night to be full of sorrow. If you are willing, shall we return to the Garden for one last night of escape before I am to depart?” He asked, offering his arm to her.

Smiling, Annúneth wrapped her hands around his elbow.

“It shall be your honor to escort me Legolas.”

“You had best get off the high horse Annúneth. It wouldn’t do lest you fall.”

“I do not fear the fall, for I know you will be there to catch me. Will you not?”

“Always.”

                                             ————————–

They were to leave.

They were to return to Greenwood that day.

And Annúneth could not bring herself to smile and wish them farewell on their journey.

Why?

Because she did not want to be parted from her Prince, just as he had no desire to part from his Lady.

But they had to.

He had to return to his Kingdom, and she had to stay with her family in Rivendell where she belonged.

She watched from the window as the line of riders departed, with Thranduil in the lead. Legolas should be beside him and yet, she could not see him there. That is until she spied him at the very end of the procession, his mount halted as the Prince looked up towards the window where she perched.

Even from afar, Annúneth could see the devastation in his blue eyes for they mirrored her own. Her hand lifted from the stone railing, to rest atop the gift he had given her.

Finally, Legolas’s horse turned and galloped after the disappearing procession. As she watched him disappear from her sight, Annúneth whispered a soft prayer to the Valar.

That no matter how long they would be apart, they would meet again.

                                             ————————–

Unknown to her, secured with a pretty ribbon was a letter hanging from the branch of the tree they had sat underneath just the night before.

The words within, read thus.

My dear Annúneth,

It is truly with a heavy heart that I say my final words of farewell to you through this letter. I could not say these words in your presence for I was sure, that if I were to speak to you on the day of our departure, then I would not want to leave.

I am sorry to have not made my true feelings to you known, but I promise you, when next we meet, I will not hesitate to show you the true extent of my affections for you. Though that will not stop me from telling you just how much your presence in my life, for the past few months has changed me.

Annúneth, my beloved, even when I tried to stay away, my gaze would remained fixed upon you for I was mesmerized by your beauty and your kind and gentle heart. My heart was full of joy for the simply pleasure of being by your side. Perhaps that is why I did not tell you of my true feelings.

Not a day will go by when I will not think of you. I will dream of the day we would sit by the lake as we had planned, lost in one another, and let the rest of the world disappear around us.

Your name shall be a prayer upon my lips, and each night I will ask the Valar to grant me my wish, and have you by my side soon. That is the only prayer I shall live by until the next time I am your presence.

And like the moon and the sun in the sky, we shall remain by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Legolas

                                             ————————–

Unknown to him, hidden between the loaves of bread in the bag she had given him, was a letter that she had written for him.

The words within, read thus.

My beloved Legolas,

How can I put into words what my heart has been bursting to say. To shout from the very treetops of my true feelings for you and how they have been imprinted within me for all eternity. You have not yet departed as I write this letter, and already my heart aches for it is aware of the impending absence.

I have lived a sheltered life, unaware of the world beyond my home, yet you have opened my eyes to a world that lies beyond home, and I pray that I will be able to explore all of it with you by my side. For there is no one else I would have as my guide in this world then you Legolas.

I hope you will not think of me too bold when I say, that it matters not what I may see in my visions, for your soul, your Fëa, is my shelter. I have no desire to be away from you for longer then necessary. When next we meet, I hope you will make me yours, as I hope to make you mine forevermore.

Not a day will go by when I shall not think of you, for my reason in this world is now you. Legolas you are within me, my heart, my mind, and my Fëa until the end of days. Should the world end, I shall be content if I were in your embrace.

I trust you to keep my heart safe my Vagabond. For my heart cannot find peace without you. May the Valar keep you safe on your travels. Be safe My Prince.

I hope like the moon and sun in the sky, we shall soon be by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Annúneth

[asumi2020202]

Things I never felt before

Pairing: Legolas Thranduilion x reader

Summary: You are Legolas' lover, he courted you before you both left to destroy the one ring. You are a healer who is needed almost all the times and a motherly figure to the hobbits.

A/n: My Lotr/Hobbit obsession has again started after I saw my husband, Legolas, in a youtube video. Anyways, Thank you for reading!

______________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ___________________

The Fellowship had been assembled. Tens companions in total. Aragorn, the son of Arathorn. Legolas, son of Thranduil. Gimli, son of Gloin. The four hobbits- Frodo, the ring bearer, Sam, Merry and Pippin. Gandalf the Grey. Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor.

And..Y/n, daughter of Lord Elrond. The only female.. Lover of Legolas Thranduilion....

Her father didn't want her to join, thinking she would get hurt. But her abilities, knowledge and skill is something that the Fellowship required.

The elves of Rivendell were sailing off to the Undying lands. Yet she told her father she would not. She would stay with Legolas.

The Fellowship left Rivendell after bidding goodbye. Arwen almost did cry to see her little sister go on a dangerous quest, she felt a bit of peace as she knew her sister had someone to protect her.

And so...their journey began....

_________________________________________

The fellowship were aiming for the gap of Rohan. After a while of walking the mountains they had stopped near a pile of giant rocks, some of which even looked as if they are stacked.

You handed a plate of food to Sam to give to Frodo. The others had already eaten. After doing so you blew out the fire and sat next to Frodo and watched Merry and Pippin train while Legolas was looking out for any enemies.

"One. Two. Good!" Boromir said, sword clanging against another.

"You got good Pippin" Merry said to Pippin.

"Thanks"

"Move your feet" Aragorn said.

Frodo looked at you and smiled.

"Ah!" Pippin squealed

"Sorry!" Boromir said. The two young hobbits tackled him on the ground as the three of you watched.

"hold him!" "For the shire!"

You gently laughed as you saw the two hobbits tackle Aragorn who tried to help Boromir. Aragorn groaned as fell on the ground as well.

Pippin got up and ran to you.

"Y/n I've got a cut on my finger. It hurts." He looked at you with his adorable little Hobbit eyes which melted your heart.

"Ah.. come with me, I will put some medicine." You led the little Hobbit to where the fire once was.

You were putting a healing balm on his hand. You turned your head and saw Legolas jump from one rock to another and stand on a giant boulder.

You finished applying the medicine and smile at Pippin as he runs to Merry. You got up from the ground and stand near Legolas.

Him standing on a boulder gave him better view whilst you stood on the ground, adjusting you satchel. You were shorter than Legolas too which gives him the tall height advantage.

"What's that?" One of the members asked.

"Oh nothing it's just a wisp of clouds." Came Gimli's reply.

"It's moving fast.. against the wind.." Boromir said, getting up from the ground with Merry and Pippin.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas shouted.

"Hide!" Aragorn shouted.

"Hurry. Frodo.." you said as you guided Sam and Frodo to cover.

As crebains flew away, everyone got out from their hideout.

"Spies of ... Saruman! The passage south is being watched. We must take the path of caradhras." Said Gandalf.

You looked at Legolas as he gently held your hand.

_________________________________________

The path of Caradhras was difficult. Thick snow, extreme cold, heavy snowfall. Elves do not mind cold very much but the others do. So you and Legolas walked in the front.

You, Legolas and the others got stuck in the snow when a huge chunk of snow fell from above.

You helped Sam out of the snow and then got out yourself. Sam went to Boromir's side.

"There is fell voice on the air" said Legolas.

"It's Saruman!" Shouted Gandalf.

"He's trying to bring down the mountains" Aragorn said as well.

Gandalf started to chant a spell in Imladris to try and stop. But alas it did not work.

It was decided that the fellowship would go through the Mines of Moria. It was chosen by Frodo.

_________________________________________

Gimli sat down a bit away from the door. The Door of Moria was yet to open. Gandalf had tried all the password that he could come up with but it didn't work.

You and Legolas sat on a log. The two of you braided each other's hair. You saw Gandalf sigh of defeat. Legolas got up and walked around to see any incoming danger.

You went to Gandalf and stood in front of the door before looking at Gandalf. He looked at you.

"It is riddle......" You said.

"A riddle you say?" He replied.

"Mellōn" you said as the doors opened the Hobbits running towards you at once.

The events that occurred after that...were too cruel for all of you...

_________________________________________

The hobbits were shedding tears. Gimli was trying to get back in the mine but Boromir didn't let him. You sat on a boulder, unable to accept the reality like Legolas.

"Get them up Legolas, Y/n." Aragorn spoke to you and Legolas. Legolas came up to you and placed his hand on your back. You looked up from the ground to his eyes. He could see the pain in your eyes, for he too feels it.

"Give them a moment for pity's sake!" Boromir shouted.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs. We must make for the woods of Lothlorien." Reasoned Aragorn.

"Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Y/n get them up." Aragorn said as walked up to Sam and held him up.

You got up from the boulder and gave Legolas a nod, after which you went to the hobbits, asking if anyone got injured.

_________________________________________

You and Legolas were close to eachother. Fingers intertwined as you walked through the woods. Aragorn was leading the way.

"I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox." Said Gimli as he almost got himself pierced by an arrow of a Lothlorian guard.

"A dwarve breathes so loud, we would've shot him in the dark" Said Haldir, an old acquaintance.

_________________________________________

"Mae g'ovannen Legolas Thranduilion, Y/n Elerondiel." Said Haldir. Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduilion, Y/n, daughter of Elrond.

"Ah, Aragorn in Dunedain. Istannen le ammen." Oh, Aragorn of Dúnedain. You are known to us. Haldir spoke, turning to Aragorn.

"Haldir." Aragorn greeted him.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of elves! Speak words we can all understand!" Spoke Gimli, annoyed because he couldn't understand what was being spoken.

Haldir simply turned to Gimli and spoke.

"We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days."

"And you know what this dwarves says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!" I spit on your grave.

"That was not so courteous" Aragorn intervened.

Haldir looked at Fellowship and then to Frodo.

"You bring great evil here.... You can go no further."

_________________________________________

You sat like the rest of the Fellowship while Legolas stood. Aragorn trying to convince Haldir to let you all stay the night.

Frodo saw Legolas look at him as the others looked at him too. He felt guilty. As if they are blaming him.

Frodo got up and went to you. He came to you and sat beside you as you opened your arms. He came in and laid his head on your chest as you hummed. He looked up in the sky and then closed his eyes.

Legolas saw you two cuddled up. He felt warm at the scene. Many would feel jealous at the sight of their lover with someone else but Legolas felt love for you grow further.

You and Frodo looked like mother and son. You ran you fingers through his head and held him close like a mother would.

Legolas smiled a little seeing you both. He imagined how it would be when the two of you would have children together.

_________________________________________

Night had fallen. Most of the Fellowship had gotten fallen asleep. Aragorn was with Boromir.

You and Legolas were in your sleeping place. He had re-braided your hair and you were currently doing his.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to untangle any knots.

"Melēth nin, what would do after all of this is over?" You asked him.

"Ah..... The first thing I would do is to marry you. I would still need to think of what to do next." He replied.

His reply made you blush a bit. The sad atmosphere lifting up a bit.

"I would have a big family with you, nin melēth. I imagine it every time I see you with the little hobbits. You would make an excellent mother to our little elflings." He continued.

Your ears had turned pink. You laughed gently as you finished braiding his hair. He got up from the ground and went to your side.

He sat down beside you and kissed you passionately. It was slow but filled with deep love.

Elves love once. They love slow but when they do, they love hard.

After a minute, his lips seperated yours. Your lungs felt empty before you inhaled air.

He laid down and patted the place beside him. You went to his side and laid your head on his chest.

Soon after you drifted off to sleep. Soft snores made Legolas smile. The world was harsh... But you both had each other and that was enough.

He ran his hand over your head, soothing you. He drifted off to sleep after sometime. He fell asleep admiring your beauty. He had said something before doing so.

It was what he felt since he met you the first time.

"You make me feel.. Things I never felt before..."

[lotrweek]

One month left until LOTRWEEK 2024 begins! See this year's prompts below and the updated FAQs below the cut for more info, and have fun!

Day 1 (16th Sep): the road goes ever on

Day 2 (17th Sep): histories and legacies

Day 3 (18th Sep): the green earth in the daylight

Day 4 (19th Sep): gifts, burdens and choices

Day 5 (20th Sep): here with me

Day 6 (21st Sep): songs and tales

Day 7 (22nd Sep): free day – Hobbit day!

What is lotrweek?

Lotrweek is a week-long event to celebrate The Lord of the Rings here on Tumblr. It takes place on 16th-22nd September 2024.

How do I take part?

Each day of the week has a prompt. Create an original work (e.g. gifset, fanart, fanfic) inspired by a prompt, then post it to Tumblr! Where the prompt has multiple parts to it, you can choose which part(s) you want to focus on – how you respond to a prompt is  comletely up to you. The prompts are deliberately vague and open so that they can work for gifs, art, fics, etc.

For example, for “histories and legacies”, you could make a gifset of Moria, or art of the similarities/differences between Luthien and Arwen, or a fic about Aragorn and the Dunedain before the War of the Ring.

Will you reblog my works?

Yes! Tag your works with #lotrweek so they can be reblogged here, and follow @lotrweek for updates on the event and to see everyone else’s works. If there’s anything nsfw or that may need a warning, make sure to do this responsibly and put said parts under a read-more.

How much can I participate?

As much or as little as you’d like! You can take part just once or every day (or even multiple times a day if you’re feeling particularly hasty). It’s up to you – just make sure you’re enjoying it!

Can I create any type of work?

Yes! Gifs, graphics, fanart, fanfic, video edits, meta – all are welcome, as long as it’s your own original work.

Does my work have to be based on the LOTR films?

Any works based on LOTR (book or film) are welcome.

Can I include other Tolkien books/adaptations?

You can, but LOTR should be the focus. So, for example, a gifset of just The Hobbit films wouldn’t work, but a gifset including shots from both The Hobbit and LOTR (e.g. to draw parallels between characters/events) would work great!

Who is running this blog?

@southfarthing

Any other questions?

Ask away!

[the-noir-symphony]

Viggorli & the acting choice

I just wanna talk about Viggo's acting choice here. This scene is about Legolas returning the Evenstar to Aragorn. Due to the positions of their hands, Aragorn couldn't see what Legolas gave him. It's probably something trivial or not important at all. If you received something unknown from your platonic friend, what would you do? Of course, open your palm and let your friend drop whatever that thing is into your hand.

However, as we can see, Viggo chose to act as if Aragorn grabbed Legolas' hand without needing to know what exactly Legolas was giving him. He held Orlando's hand just a little too tight and Orlando rested his hand in Viggo's wrapped one just a little longer than necessary.

So there are two possibilities: Either Viggo just wanted to grab Orlando's hand because he could, OR in his mind, everything Legolas gives to Aragorn is precious enough that didn't even need to see what it was.

Either way, this scene is one of the gayest scenes in the trilogy, and the acting choice here is something that a lot of fans still wonder about.

Or Peter just said to them: 'Listen mates, they want to cut Arwen's scene, so we must replace it with something romantic and flirty to make Eowyn's hope die. Just act like you two usually do every night in that Cuntybago.'

[spinningalbinoturtle]

Thanksgiving headcanons for the Lotr crew

Its hosted in Rivendell but Elrond lets people extend the invite to others so everyone comes

Sam is in the kitchens from 6am cooking a million things-he also brought several side dishes premade

Frodo is all over the decorations and setting the table but he also made some cookies

Arwen is also very particular about this particularly the table

She has made a seating chart which she hopes will minimize squabbling

She has also set some ground rules like no dissing on your child’s interracial marriage (for Elrond and Thranduil)

Bilbo helps Sam cook in the morning but then he starts drinking around midday and doesn’t stop til he is dragged to bed by Frodo and Erestor

While Elrond is hosting he doesn’t do much just sits around and judges

He and Thranduil will be breaking Arwen’s rules

Thranduil and Gloin out drink Bilbo. They are having a silent drinking contest which has not been spoken of. Each one just decided to out drink the other

Thranduil wins cause he drinks like three bottles of a wine a day

Gimli and Legolas are just trying to avoid their parents

Thankfully Arwen sat them at the opposite end of the table

Unfortunately near Elrond who asks several awkward questions about how elf/dwarf sex works (he’s curious from a medical standpoint)

Bilbo drunkenly tells them how he had a dwarf boyfriend once so he totally understands what they’re going through at which point Frodo cuts off his wine supply

Frodo is actually trying to slow down Bilbo’s drinking all evening but with little success

Elladan and Elrohir have bonded with Merry and Pippin who introduced them to pipeweed. The four of them are stoned out of their minds and consequently eat more than everyone else. Arwen doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her brothers.

Aragorn is in charge of the turkey. Its excellent

He is mostly trying to hide from Elrond the whole time

Boromir tries to assist him with helpful turkey roasting tidbits but Aragorn would rather just do it himself

Eventually he assigns Boromir to the stuffing- its actually not bad

Erestor keeps Elrond occupied, they hang out and play chess in the middle of all the chaos

Glorfindel is the guy who is just ready for the holiday season to start

He keeps pestering Maglor to play Yule carols but Elrond’s rule is not until after dinner

Gandalf sits around and smokes and occasionally yells at Pippin. He takes turns hanging out with Bilbo and getting him drunker, hanging out with Elrond and Galadriel

Galadriel intimidates everyone no one knows where she was before or after dinner

Celeborn brought lembas rolls and cranberry sauce

Faramir makes a mean pumpkin pie

He’s just happy to be included. He fangirls over all the elves who indulge him mostly

Eowyn is enjoying watching the antics. She can’t cook for shit so she doesn’t bother to help with that but she does help clean up

So do Merry and Pippin but only because Gandalf forced them

Eomer brings “traditional Rohirric appetizers” and its smoked horse meat. Pippin and Sam are horrified to learn this.

Everyone has their favorite: Sam’s is obvs PO-TAY-TOES. Frodo likes cranberry sauce. Merry inhales stuffing. Pippin loves rolls.

Drunkest in order of most to least would be: Thranduil, Gloin, Bilbo, Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Aragorn (but you can’t tell), Eomer, Eowyn, Glorfindel, Sam (he would’ve drunk more but he was busy cooking), Elladan, Elrohir (they’re so high they don’t drink much) Arwen (not a big drinker), Frodo(alcohol fucks with his anxiety so he just has one glass of wine) Faramir (who’s a teatotler cause he thinks if he did drink he’d become an alcoholic).

Lots of songs are sung before people start to retire for bed

Legolas and Gimli have sex really loudly between their fathers’ rooms to annoy them

Galadriel shows up around midnight and helps finish cleaning up

The clean up crew includes Eowyn, Merry, Faramir, Pippin, Gandalf, and Legolas and Gimli. They have a great time.

[shirefantasies]

Can I please request a preference thing with how the fellowship (maybe plus eomer, Arwen, eowyn and Haldir if you also write for them) react to a person they have a crush on who is physically affectionate with their friends.

The person holds their hand, puts their head on their shoulder, plays with their hair, cuddles etc.

Oh heck yessss! I do plan on writing for them too so here’s a good start 🥰 hope you enjoy this! Also, cut because loooong post 😉

LoTR Characters When You’re Naturally Physically Affectionate

Aragorn

✧ Is kind of surprised but also plays it off??? Like he doesn’t want to get his hopes up and assume anything wrong at least at first.

✧ Initiates back but in really soft ways, like tugging your blankets up higher about you when he sees you’ve fallen asleep at night.

✧ Smiles privately to himself on a later evening when you fall asleep at his side, head snug against his shoulder. The fact that you trust him so well is something he truly hopes to be worthy of, just like the glowing feeling in his heart.

✧ One day you straight-up just slide the ring of Barahir off his hand to try it on yourself, not fully aware of its significance. You mean it no harm and do even less, and something about the gesture touches Aragorn so all he does is smile and shake his head, asking if it fits.

✧ You soften him so much, so much you can see it in his eyes and his actions. When you brush some of his hair back out of his face, he kisses your hands lightly, eyes searching yours.

Legolas

✧ Kind of in a state of perpetual surprised pikachu around you tbh

✧ Like sure, his best friends don’t come from the same culture so he sees enough of that, but they aren’t usually very affectionate with him in that way so you casually sliding a hand over his shoulders to get something behind him has him flustered in a way he hasn’t felt before.

✧ Finds himself mirroring your actions a bit in his own way; he pulls you back from harm by your waist or elbow, holding on just a bit longer than he absolutely needs to.

✧ His eyes widen when you tell him his hair is beautiful and ask to braid it, but he accepts because what harm can it do? You tell him you’re doing a French braid and he’s relishing your touch, asking you to explain what that is.

✧ Smooth prince pulls the ‘your hands are cold’ on you to flip the script and let you know the affection is reciprocated, cradling your hands so gently in his own.

Boromir

✧ Is surprised by your forwardness, but in the most pleasant way. He loves someone who comes across so warm and hearty!

✧ The first time you clap a hand to his shoulder after a good fight, he mirrors the gesture immediately with a great warrior’s camaraderie without realizing anything.

✧ Goes from surprised to grinning when you offer to braid some hair out of his face for him. Milks the crap out of it, tilting so he can feel your touch as much as possible!

✧ Has no qualms about holding your arm or hand to walk together since you don’t, always offering it like a gentleman.

✧ Holds you back from danger firmly, keeping his grip as he whispers to you to stay back, care for you burning fiercely in his eyes. When you’re safe from harm, he finally voices how much you mean to him.

Gimli

✧ His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline when you first get comfortable enough to act that way, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love it!

✧ Dwarves are arguably the most physical race, so the fact that you express yourself this way is only the most pleasant of shocks.

✧ You find yourself playing with his hair one day and he stiffens, reminding himself over and over again as you begin twisting it into braids that unfortunately the significance is not the same for you as it is him. Maybe one day…

✧ Loves that you grab his arm when you laugh and elbow him playfully; begins doing the same right back and telling more jokes as an excuse for you both to do it more!

✧ Because you tend to lean on him in conversation or when you’re tired, Gimli sort of develops this habit of affectionate mini-headbutts like a cat. Your forehead? Softly bonked often by your favorite dwarf but only when his helmet is off of course 😌

Frodo

✧ It’s not a culture shock for him, so it’s not a source of confusion but it does have him overthinking because are you just doing it as intimate friends or…?

✧ Basically short-circuits for a second the first time you take his hand, sliding his palm against yours to compare the sizes of them; his eyes widen, but a smile gradually forms upon his face at the warm contact.

✧ Adores the way you sit close to him to read together or tell stories, your arms flush together as you share warmth- it’s like a little piece of home.

✧ Doubly so when you see the toll the ring takes on him and run a soothing hand up and down his back- he could practically tear up from gratitude and the way his heart explodes for you.

✧ You kissed him on the cheek once when he gifted you a sketch he knew you’d like and that feeling joins the imaginations and memories swirling through his head before sleep or when he loses sight of all the world’s blessings beneath the ring’s voice. He wonders if you know what a treasure you are- perhaps he’ll tell you tomorrow.

Sam

✧ What are you trying to do, kill him? JK mostly but man will be blushing constantly around someone like you!

✧ Leans into your touch so hard when you play with his hair, softly brushing leaves and tangled alike from the curls unabashedly like a sweet puppy.

✧ But also? Sam isn’t afraid to gently ask for what he wants from time to time? “Oh, um, I was wondering…got a real bad knot here and I just wanted to see if you were up to one of your famous massages?”

✧ You took his hand once to lead him off to look at some gorgeous flowers he could identify, so Sam finds himself plucking up the courage to take yours after a fight once, swearing he means to his best to protect you.

✧ Wraps his extra blanket around you so gently, smiling as your hands brush his to accept the new warmth about your shoulders, lingering over them for a moment.

Merry

✧ He’s a bit of a physical person too and teasing to boot so you two quickly become two peas in a pod!

✧ Both of you will teasingly sling arms around the other’s shoulders as you joke around or have mock conferences.

✧ Footsie at campfire time. Gimli complains about it a little because something about thinking you’re going to make him spill his soup or whatever, but you two barely pay attention when all your focus is on your childish little nudging game!

✧ Every now and again he just gets the widest smile at your antics, though, grinning as you sit with your arm in his or a hand resting upon his back.

✧ Will straight-up tell you you’re being adorable, then skip off smirking when he’s finally gotten you to be a bit flustered! You can’t even come up with a comeback to that for once…but maybe a confession? Big brain Merry wbk 👀

Pippin

✧ He’s in heaven, actually. Physical affection is his favorite and the one thing that ever stops him is being unsure if the other party will be uncomfortable. But you clearly aren’t, so game on 😎

✧ You got something out of his hair then ended up playing with his curls for a bit, brushing them back into place and arranging them, so he ups that by brushing some out of your face the next chance he gets, eyes never leaving yours.

✧ Since Pippin loves to sing and dance, he’s always pulling you to your feet to join him. But it doesn’t stop there of course as he holds your hand or waist depending on how open of a twirl the song entails!

✧ You two never sit up straight- someone’s head is always on the other’s shoulder or if you’re both feeling the lean, your heads are resting gently against each other, holding each other up.

✧ When he worries, you lay your hand over his and that’s it for him. He knows he’s lost, not even caring if you see how much love is in his eyes as he looks at you, especially when you gently squeeze it.

Eomer

✧ Unlearning his toxic masculinity a bit, so he is hesitant to initiate back at first, but as time goes on he can’t help questioning if there truly is more to your intentions…

✧ You tease him a lot, trying to get him to drop the serious facade, so putting your hands on his shoulders and making eye contact for mocking pep talks just has him chuckling and shaking his head at you.

✧ But when you wordlessly begin massaging his shoulders after a long day of training, hands kneading out tension in the most wondrous of ways, that has him flushing and trying to glance back at your expression without you noticing, hoping he can read something, anything.

✧ Eomer loves the way you push him when you laugh, hands against his chest or arm as you fall upon him in mirth. And if his arm ends up around you during that process? Oh well 😏

✧ Gets highkey jealous if he sees you being affectionate with anyone else, pouting because he thought he was special 🥺…but only for a moment before he’s marching over there to tell you how he feels once and for all, confessing his desire to be the one receiving most of your affection!

Haldir

✧ It definitely takes him some getting used to because he is a more reserved person and physical affection is a bit less common in elf culture…we’ve seen how surprised he is about hugs after all 😉

✧ Makes it his personal mission not to jump whenever your habit of tapping his shoulder to get attention comes into play, trying to stay stock-still and cool as a cucumber, but he can’t help feeling the corners of his mouth tug up at your giggle when he fails.

✧ Loses his absolute mind the day you gently run your fingers up his arm to get your attention, like it can’t escape your notice how he tenses, can it?

✧ Haldir expresses himself more with his words than with physical action. Every time you go out he makes sure you’re properly armed or dressed for the weather, and he always sharpens your sword himself, no one else is allowed to do it.

✧ Your actions are definitely a prompt to confess for him, like he would have sat on his feelings for quite some time but in the end he can’t help coming up to you to question your behavior and if it has any of the intent he dearly hopes it does!

Eowyn

✧ She isn’t used to this given her upbringing, but in all honesty it’s refreshing and she enjoys the feeling of love and comfort it brings.

✧ You see her looking worried and squeeze her shoulder, pulling her into your arms when she turns around. You can just feel her exhale, tension melting from her body.

✧ It quickly becomes you two’s ‘thing’ to link arms and you almost always walk together like that, screw whatever Grima has to say about it he won’t be around for long anyway 😏

✧ She thinks her heart is about to burst the day you two make home of the hills for an afternoon and you sit her down to weave flowers in her beautiful golden hair. Your hands are so gentle, never causing a single pull or tangle.

✧ She is forward with her words even if it takes some time, so one day Eowyn pulls you aside and with her hand in yours tells you how much she appreciates the glow of your presence in her life, the smiles you bring her.

Arwen

✧ Most people aren’t very playful with her, so she finds it very refreshing how relaxed, affectionate, and fun you are.

✧ You grab her hand and swing your joined hands between the two of you and all she can do is laugh merrily!

✧ One day, she wants to try the new sweets you’ve made, but imagine her surprise when you hand-feed it to her. Being an elf of such poise and grace, she doesn’t make a mess at all somehow despite her eyes firmly being on yours and nowhere near your creation 👀

✧ Arwen’s favorite habit of yours is the way you’ll take her hand and spontaneously twirl her around like you’re showing her off or having an impromptu dance. It lightens the weight of all other things for a moment and makes her feel like a queen!

✧ Repaying the favor, she makes sure you’re her first dance at every party. You open her up, giving her complete comfort to approach you and interlock your fingers, asking you if you won’t please her with your company for a bit. Of course you always say yes- you would even if she didn’t given you that teasing smile.

[azaharinflames]

Can you give some examples of how OS spoke of the BuckTaylor relationship in S5? I wasn't around back then.

Hi! I received two asks about this, so I am answering both with this one ☺️

Now full disclaimer: I wasn't in the fandom to the level I am now back when Season 5 was airing. I did do a deep dive once I went into the fandom, because a deep dive hates to see me coming, and I found out some stuff from that. I am sure I am missing stuff because of that. But there is also the fact that I have seen fans that have been here since S5 (and before) that do also say it all feels very different. More under the cut, because it is a long one.

That being said. I did another deep dive just so I could pull some things for evidence, and here are some interesting things I noticed, based on interviews for Hello (several with Hello - I, II, III), EW, Decider*, TV insider, and Fox. My thoughts aren't exactly organised, and more things that I noted down while doing the deep dive (huge thanks to 911bts, they were incredible at their job and it's a shame they were run off the fandom because of them. I hope they're doing okay now)

Oliver was actually really excited about the cheating storyline, as he believed Buck and Taylor had stalled and weren't that interesting anymore (for the audience).

Overall, there were way less post morterms after an episode. And when I say way less, I do mean it. I don't know if 911bts just didn't post the blogs, but from what I found, not too many were posted.

Interestingly enough, the post mortems we did get back then were directly tied to the episode. Crazy, I know! And by this I mean that it wasn't Oliver, Tim, and sometimes Ryan doing an interview after every single episode. Rather, the interviews were with the actor that had something important happening to them during the episode, and that's it.

Again, I don't know if the account just didn't post them, but the interviews I found with Oliver were 99% from big outlets/official ones. That means that, as a result, they are very neutral, and do not dive into the Buddie of it all. The journalist would ask him about the episode and the show and about working on it. It was refreshing to read, ngl.

* Funny to note, Arielle and Oliver did a co-joint interview for Decider. Kinda interesting taking into account that Taylor was still very much in the picture, yet she was pretty much ignored during this whole interview. I cannot help but think that, had Arielle been received positively (perhaps she could’ve if they hadn’t introduced her by cheating), she could’ve been Buck’s LT LI (once they saw Taylor didn't work). Be it an on-and-off situation or something more solid, I can see how the show could have played the long game with them. It’s worth noting, too, that Tim wanted to bring back Lucy during Season 7, but Arielle was just unavailable. And then he remembered Lou, and the rest is history. But my point is - I do think there was an intention to make Lucy a more solid LI, and potentially the person Buck was going to be with LT by season 5b. It’s just funny they were given an interview.

(I wanna do a small note here to point out that it is funny when you remember Oliver and Lou also had an interview together. Only, with two main and very telling differences. 1. The Decider interview was tied to what had happened on screen - aka Lucy and Buck kissing -, whilst Lou and Oliver didn't really have a reason to do the interview. Their arc had been done episodes prior. 2. A written interview that not a lot of people were gonna read (GA, I mean), vs. a televised interview that a casual viewer can catch and go: ohhh, they're a couple! Yk? Very stark differences, no pun intended)

There was a weird way of approaching his interviews, and what is notable is that it was both, from the journalists and Oliver. And, sure, you can say: arwen, that's what they're doing now! But, the difference? Back then the interviews were done by neutral, official outlets (aka Entertainment Weekly and Hello). Ignoring Taylor and putting her relationship with Buck on the background whilst focusing on Lucy very much was intentional.

Overall, it feels as if, when the show hit 5b, it stopped caring for Taylor entirely, and starting making an effort to try and introduce a new LI for Buck (aka, Lucy). This is just my theory, and what I perceived after my deep dive. And, once it did not work out with Lucy, they got rid of her, too.

I think, in general, the not Buddie interviews we get now do not ignore Tommy, and do not pretend he doesn't exist. Even when we receive a world salad for an answer, he is not being ignored.

I think Oliver is more insightful this time as well. He is putting himself on Tommy's shoes and, in a way, making sure the audience is still feeling sympathetic towards him. Whereas before, he didn't care to talk about Taylor much, if at all.

I will also add there was some interesting SM activity (I tried to find the screenshots the whole day, because I remember seeing them more than once, but alas, I couldn't. If someone has them, please send them my way! So I can add for evidence). Oliver had either the worst timing ever, or purposefully posted insta stories just as the BuckTaylor scenes were airing, usually covering his face with an emoji that showed some disdain. I think he deleted them pretty quickly (which he usually does), but enough fans would see them. There was one time where he posted one just as Buck and Taylor had their ILY scene. So. Could have it been a coincidence? I mean, sure. I won't outright assume things here. But it was an interesting choice to post that, especially when it made so many people sure that he didn't exactly like their scenes together.

Anyway. Long answer, and I am sure I am missing lots, but I hope this was helpful!

TL;DR: Taylor was pretty much ignored during interviews during 5b in order to promote Lucy, and Oliver didn't care to dwell too much into his storylines with Taylor. Likewise, you can tell he makes an effort to make sure the audience still has sympathy for Tommy and still is a positive character, whereas he didn't do that when talking about Taylor (that I've personally seen).

My inbox is open for ranting, venting, giving your opinion (unpopular or popular, I'm happy to receive and discuss both), and even confessions! However if you don't want yours posted, please make sure to say :)

Take care <3

[valentinachatte]

I'm back and i brought an new OC to this blog :3

Meet Arwen Traime, my Twisted wonderland oc

This is some basic information about her

Template by Ai_kan1

Under the cut will be more fun fact about her

All these questions is made by Miriaocs

1. Name: Arwen Traim

- Arwen means a noble maiden, very beautiful, or muse, all three meanings are suitable for Arwen

-Traime Mainly made from Tremaine

- Rook calls Arwen Dame de la pluie, which means Lady of the Rain, which is a nickname people often use (because when Arwen appears, it often rains). Rook also calls Arwen Reine de la pluie

- Floyd calls Arwen stingray-senpai (Akaei-senpai). The reason is because Floyd realizes her danger despite her gentle appearance, but the real reason is because of her ponytail. The stingray looks gentle so I chose that nickname :)))

2. Inpso: Arwen was inspired by Lady Tremaine, when I first learned about the game I also wanted to create an OC, and decided to choose Lady Tremaine without looking at the cast... and then when i finally play the game and saw saw professor Trein, at that time I almost finished building Arwen and couldn't bear to leave her 😅

3. Age/Bday: She is 18 years old. Birthday is on May 20, close to Silver and Deuce's birthday

4. Dorm: Dorm leader of Celfam, when I created her I created her dorm myself. Dorm Celfam is based on Lady Tremaine's flexibility . Arwen is flexible, and knows how to make people do what she wants but is also cold like Lady Tremaine. Currently, she lives with Lucasta (vice dorm leader, who is based on Lucifer), the two are close friends

5. Class: Arwen is in class 3C with Vil and Lucasta. Vil and Arwen talk quite well. Studied together for 3 years

6. Height: Arwen is 1m75 tall, weighs 50kg

7. Hair/Eyes color: Gray-blue hair with white highlights. Two-colored eyes but few people notice because the two eye colors are close together, one eye is jade green, and one eye is emerald green

8. Homeland: Homeland is in the Vault of Memory (imagination country that i created). No one in the cast is from the same hometown as Obv, she knew Kalim and Idia before coming to NRC because her family was familiar with the Asim and Shroud families

9. Club: Didn't join the club because she was too busy with work and because of health issues

10. Subject:

Best Subject: History of magic, Arwen is extremely good at this subject because she is a diplomat and has to remember all the big and small events.

Worst subject: Physical education (make her run 3m and she faints).

She gets along well with Mr. Trein and often asks Mr. Trein to learn more about historical events. Physical education is unavoidable

11. Hobby: She likes sightseeing, especially places with water like waterfalls or lakes, once at the lake near the ruins she met Malleus there, and from then on the two of them often went sightseeing together

12. Pet peeve: chewing makes a sound, she is super annoyed with that. she will glare at the person if they do it near her

13. Food: likes strong flavors because her taste buds are very bad. She has no preference for food, but will not eat poorly prepared dishes. Often shares with Lucasta (Lucista gets it herself)

14. Talent: Excellent diplomacy, very good at talking

15. Unique Magic: "Back to your place"

- Arwen's special magic allows her to control others according to her command (not hypnosis but direct manipulation)

- Incantation: -"heed my words and follow my command, Back to your place"- changed from the sentence - "Cinderella will be put in her place." Lady Tremaine's

- Weakness: very corrosive to the user, the biggest loophole is that you have to know the name of the person you want to use it on before you can use it + the person you want to use it on is too much stronger, it will cost a lot of magic (which can lead to her death, will be explained in the backstory)

16. Quote: -" People may enter and exit our lives, and while it can be difficult to say goodbye, it's a natural part of our journey."- she said to Malleus when talking about her illness, not long after that he Overblot

17. Personality:

- on the outside, she is mature, gentle, kind, and delicate and loves peace but always gives off a very distant feeling. Arwen is considered one of the gentlest dorm leaders (after Kalim ofc) but is still a dorm leader, a trustworthy senior.

- truth is Arwen is always jealous of the people around her, extremely distant from everyone (except Lucasta), cold, cruel, and will do anything to achieve her goals (even harming herself and others). Secretly has a superiority complex, in her heart she always looks down on those she thinks are inferior

- But Arwen is just a child who was forced to grow up too early, living in meaningless compliments but never received any true love or affection, the guilt that she bears. She also struggles with PTSD and Depression . (more will be in the backstory)

School uniform and dorm uniform

Countdown poster

She also appears in Glorious masquerade as an SSR card this is the card that i draw for her

The ref of the outfit is here