#Dwarves are somewhere in the middle! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

schoenpepper · 3 months ago

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Here Kitty Kitty Kitty (Housewardens)

Intro: You're a wild little thing, aren't you? Let's see how the NRC dorm leaders deal with you, then.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, not much i think idk tell me if i should pop a warning somewhere, it's reaaally long

A/N: My goodbye gift before I die in college. Not that I'd be too busy though, my prof list isn't even complete yet. Hollywood lied to me about college it all sucks (not even started first day yet). Oh this was a request btw so I hope you like it anon. Even though I'm not sure I really followed through with the request I'm sorry.

Masterlist

Headcanon order (on the what he thinks of you part):

Fierce, reckless, territorial, soft to people close to you

You tried to tell Neige you weren’t interested in the National Arcane Academy Culture Fair, you really did. But your best friend is a lot less of a pushover than he seems to be, hanging onto your arm and pulling you right to the middle of the chaos. NRC is dark, dreary, and every corner seems to be black and covered with spiderwebs. Which, honestly, is quite the refreshing turn from the bright white glitter you’d gotten used to in RSA.

“Their science club is doing a cafe!”

The black-haired, starry-eyed boy points at a spot on the map. “It’s not too far from this place, maybe we can drop by and try out their treats.” he smiles happily. You look away (two years is not enough time to get used to the sparkles that magically appear whenever he beams) and sigh. “Where are the dwarves? Won’t they enjoy going to the cafe more than I would? I told you I was just fine sitting on a bench somewhere until the SDC.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re right. Where are they—” you pull him back as he turns, but not before he bumps into someone.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking…”

“Hm? It’s fine, oh hey, aren’t you that superstar on the news?”

The ginger is getting uncomfortably close to your friend’s personal space, so you get in front of Neige, shielding him from this nosy NRC student.

“Y/N!” Neige gives you a worried look, tugging on your sleeve, “I should apologize.”

“What? He said it’s fine already.”

“Ace, are you disturbing these visitors?”

At the sound of the new voice, the young man in front of you straightens up almost unnecessarily straight, back taut and expression nervous. A short student with strawberry red hair is accompanied by a tall student with glasses and green hair. The redhead seems very uptight, with the way he drags down this ‘Ace’ person to his level by the collar to chastise him from apparently ‘disturbing’ you. Neige waves from behind you, trying to stop them while making sure not to leave your circle of protection. “No, we bumped into him, it was my fault really.”

“Ah, I see,” he nods as he lets go of the other person’s collar, “my apologies that you had to see that shameful act. If you need anything, please let the culture fair committee members know, you will recognize them by this badge.”

“Cool, but we’re just going to the cafe. Thanks for the help, bye,” you cut the conversation short and pull Neige away.

“Y/N, that was very rude.”

You shrug, “What was I supposed to do? Didn’t you see that guy has an on and off switch for exploding like an active volcano? Did you want to be on the receiving end of his next outburst?”

“Don’t be so judgmental, Y/N, you barely know the person,” Neige sighs.

“I don’t need to know him.”

Exchange program:

It turns out that you did, in fact, need to know him. Neige somehow managed to convince you to sign up for an exchange student program between RSA and NRC, so you got sorted into Heartslabyul and the guy you insulted at the culture fair is now your housewarden.

Ace and Deuce are okay, if not a few cells short of a brain sometimes. You do enjoy getting caught up in their shenanigans whenever the dorm leader and his eight hundred something rules get a tad bit too stifling. At some point, their dumb (affectionate) tactics manage to work their way into your heart, so you begrudgingly call them friends.

You think Cater’s a good guy, if not a bit social-media-obsessed. You don’t mind having him nearby because he generally just chats about random things. As long as you manage to put up with him asking for a pic every once in a while, he’s not awful. Trey is a comforting presence. He may or may not have Pavlov’d you with the way he always has a sweet treat with him, making you calmer and more susceptible to behaving within his general vicinity.

Riddle is a whole ‘nother thing altogether; you make him mad. Er, madder than usual, at least. Something must be in the tea in Heartslabyul because you and the housewarden in the same room is a guarantee for a beheading. Usually you, but there have been a fair number of innocent victims who’d just happened to get caught up in your squabbles. Riddle is a flame and you’re a tankful of gasoline, always with a witty comeback or something else that’s sure to make every situation worse.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Think a dry, wooden cottage smack dab in the middle of the woods and a wildfire. That’s how you and Riddle get along. You’re hot tempered; pot, meet kettle. You’re sarcastic and snippy, traits that he most certainly does not appreciate. Every time he’s lecturing you about something or the other, you speak. And every word that comes out of your mouth makes him want to collar you.

…Another one? How did his dorm somehow get stuck with the most ‘act first, think later’ individuals? You give Riddle a headache, but don’t worry, he’s all too used to it. He will bail you out of trouble and every stupid situation you find yourself in, but also, he will assign you a 5000 word apology essay each time he does.

Riddle gets it. It’s a sign of disrespect when people touch your things without your explicit consent, and he’d get mad too if it was him in that situation. Does, however, do a double-take when he sees you tackle someone to the ground after you hear them insult Neige, screaming something about “your people”. Turns a blind eye.

Since…since when have you and that duo been so close? He’s not mad (for once). But he does feel rather…upset. You’re always such a spiky individual, so to see you almost melting into the couch, head on Deuce’s lap as he patted your hair and legs over Ace’s, it’s almost surreal. He’s not angry, no, but then why does he still feel unhappy?

Love story climax:

“I just don’t understand. Why do I feel so uncomfortable when I see Y/N together with other people?”

Trey hums from where he’s standing in the kitchen, letting Riddle know that he’s listening while whipping the bowl of cream.

“You’re smart,” Trey chuckles, “you’ll figure it out.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and looks back down at the chopping board, cutting off the top of another strawberry. It wasn’t an illness, but maybe if he diagnosed it like one, he could arrive at a proper conclusion. He mentally retraces his steps and every unpleasant feeling that had welled up inside him. He feels okay, good maybe, when he sees you. He gets mad when you retort while he’s trying to discipline you, but even then, he seems to have started to find it rather…cute? And he gets unreasonably anxious when you’re so close to your friends.

…No. No. Absolutely not.

Riddle Rosehearts is not in love with you.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

You still make him mad, but now instead of being collared, you just need to coax him a little and this strawberry shortcake is ready to fold like a collapsible tent. Make it up to him by being sweet and loving him lots, okay? If it’s to other people, he doesn’t really care as long as it doesn’t get violent. You are exempt from the apology letters though, congrats (he thinks that time writing them could be better spent with him).

Riddle probably needs heart medication at some point, you’re going to drive him either insane or to his inevitable death. He gets a lot more protective of you now because you’re his partner, but please please please at least try not to get hurt. Or try to consider if you might get hurt before doing something. Or how about this, you call him up before you make any decision at all?! Yeah. Heart attack.

Honestly, he probably doesn’t realize that you have a tendency to be overly possessive and territorial of him. Riddle isn’t exactly the type of guy to frequently get love confessions (he should be), you know? So the only time he nottices is when you catch him in the middle of equestrian club meetings or something, and he’s just a step too close to some newbie. Tells you to keep it down and assures you, his love for you is real and unchanging.

Happy guy. He thinks he’s silly when he gets so giddy at the smallest things you do, like kissing the back of his hand, but he can’t exactly stop the somersaults his heart does whenever you’re being so affectionate with him. Regardless, it’s quite rude to make public displays of affection, so be reserved and try to keep it all in private. Will blush at every little thing until like, two years into the relationship.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Neige’s words are cut short when you tackle the hyena beastman to the ground. He looks at you, horrified, and was likely about to chastise you before you pulled out a familiar leather wallet from the beastman’s pocket. “Thief,” you hiss, “you picked the wrong students to mess with.”

“Tsk, [laugh with me].”

The hyena rolls around and you’re unable to control your own movements, rolling with him. You’re lying on the ground when the magic snaps but he’s already running away, Neige’s wallet in hand. “Oh no you don’t!”

You weave through the crowd of students and booths, trying to keep your eyes trained on the mop of caramel hair that was zooming farther and farther away from you. You finally spot him by one of the stages, where he sprints by a tall lion beastman who catches him by the scruff of his neck like a kitten. You come to a stop, panting lightly as you glare at the lion beastman. “Is this guy a friend of yours? He has something of mine, so you better have him give it back quick or I’ll—”

“Ruggie,” The lion yawns, “no stealing during the culture fair.”

“Finders keepers!”

“Ruggie.”

“Fine.”

You get Neige’s wallet back and immediately turn tail and leave. These NRC students are freaks (no stealing during the culture fair? then it’s okay to steal any other time?).

Exchange program:

Something something it’s better to make friends than enemies. While not a saying you’ve ever given a fuck about before, it’s hard not to care when it led you to where you are now. Due to a mass voting in RSA for whoever to send to the exchange program, you’ve been bolted out as the sacrificial lamb (that’s what you get for always picking fights). Savanaclaw takes you in because you wrestle one of their dorm members to the ground on your very first day.

Jack Howl is probably one of the closest things you’ll see to another RSA student in this place. You get along well with him because he doesn’t take your quips at face value (or rather, he doesn’t care for your insults and dry sarcasm). Ruggie takes a bit more getting used to, but he’s a really cool dude when you manage to keep all your valuables away from arm’s reach.

And Leona…he’s like a stray cat. And you’re also a stray cat. And you’re in the same dark alley, coexisting together. You ignore each other most of the time unless the other gets a tad bit too close. It’s not too bad when the boundaries are in place.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

He’s too tired and sleepy most of the time to deal with your temper. Not as if you can do anything about it though, try as you might, you can never win against Leona. You can talk crap about how lazy he is or whatever, he doesn’t care, but whenever you even attempt to fight him you’re already subdued one way or another. Leona thinks you should pick and choose your battles well.

While Leona is a big believer of instincts, there’s a fine line between believing and charging in like a bull seeing red at the first tingle of a gut feeling. He’ll let out a sigh but still, he’ll fish you out of trouble and claim you’re bothering his naptime and he’ll totally leave you to fend for yourself the next time the consequences of your stupid actions find you (he will not).

He’s a lion, of course he’s territorial. So he understands your need to stake your claim on a certain place or item, as long as it’s not something he’d already claimed as his own. Leaves you about it. Territorial about people though? Same thing. Do as you will, he can’t muster the energy to care.

A low growl is emitted from his chest, pupils constricted into pinpricks, ears and tail stiff—Leona isn’t dumb. He knows that the instinctual actions of his body mean something, and in this case, it means he’s annoyed watching you be all buddy buddy with Ruggie. You, the little porcupine you are, laughing so easily with the guy you swore was your enemy, it makes him gnash his teeth in anger (envy).

Love story climax:

He can’t get you out of his head.

The few months you’ve been at NRC, you’ve started to become an existence that he didn’t mind constantly having around. He’d found you annoying at first, so why is it that now, just seeing you so happy with Ruggie is enough to drive him insane? He keeps his eyes closed but he can’t sleep. You’re still lingering in his vision, a hazy mirage by the moonlight of the savanna. Why can’t he stop thinking about you?

Why can’t he stop thinking about your hair and how soft it looked to touch? Why can’t he stop thinking about how incredible your skin would feel on his? Why can’t he stop thinking about your lips��?

Fuck.

Leona rolls over in his bed, burying his face in a pillow. Maybe if he suffocated to death he wouldn’t be haunted by thoughts of you. But, if you’re so willing to be close to Ruggie, why not Leona? He could be your…friend too. Do you already think of him as a friend? You tend to run to him with that stupid smile and chatter away even when he tells you to go away, is that a sign that you saw him as some sort of confidant? Whatever.

Leona’s not good with emotions, but he’s the farthest thing from a coward.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Okay wildfire, Leona likes it, but you need to tone it down a bit unless you want your ass handed back to you on a platter. No he’s not threatening you, it’s just that you should already know the folks in NRC aren’t scared of fights. No he doesn’t care that you’re not scared of fights. Stop picking fights. If you sass him back enough he will sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

There’s a reason why he always has one hand on you, whether on your hip or the back of your neck. It’s not because he’s a clingy kitty (stop teasing, he’s not a cat!), rather, it’s so he can easily stop you when a situation arises and you decide on something he wishes you didn’t decide on. Now that you’re in a relationship, he’ll sit you down and start a long discussion on why you should learn to think before you act.

Let’s get something straight, you are part of his territory, not the other way around. He’s just as protective and possessive of you as you are to him, if not more, so pretty much everyone knows to book it when they see you two together. Any poor soul who has a crush on either of you quickly get the picture.

Tsk, you’re so clingy (affectionate). Unlike most guys on the list, Leona doesn’t give two shits about other people, ergo, he doesn’t care when you kiss or touch him in public. In fact, he encourages it. Go ahead, mark him up. But if he reciprocates, he’ll tell you he’s just doing what you’ve been doing, so you have no right to refuse.

You knew it was instantly trouble when the person he bumped into had all the tells of a bad mood. You push Neige behind you while he apologizes profusely to the stranger. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry!” His words obviously went unheard because this annoyingly tall NRC student only grimaced, and you know from experience that when someone bares their teeth at you, it means they haven’t forgiven your pitiful apology.

“You can’t see where you’re going, hah, maybe I should squeeze you ‘til your eyes pop out? Maybe you’ll see it then?”

Let it be known that though you were half this asshole’s size, that did not mean you were going to take this lying down.

“Hey, back off. He said it was an accident.”

You feel Neige tugging on your sleeve. “Hey, Y/N let’s just—”

“I don’t care if it was an accident, I’m in a slump and you just made it worse, y’know?”

“Well I don’t care if you don’t care. You better back off before I take your slump and shove it down your stupid—”

Another unfamiliar figure approaches, this one shorter than the asshole, with purplish-white hair and glasses, yet somehow looking just as dangerous with the kind smile he has on. He gives the guy in front of you a very pissed-off look behind the carefully maintained grin. You think he might be trying to whisper, but it’s not very quiet.

“Floyd! I told you to sell the drinks while Jade and I are gone, what are you doing here?”

“Ehhh, but I didn’t feel like selling drinks.”

They’re gone before you even know what’s going on.

The interaction only cemented what you’d known before you even got here; everyone in NRC is a weirdo.

Exchange program:

Apparently, someone’s great idea for a prank is signing you up to be an exchange student to NRC. So, hurray.

You’re plopped into Octavinelle because the very reliable headmaster of NRC drew lots from some magical (rigged) thing. It doesn’t take you too long to realize that the quick-to-violence guy you’d met a little while back is one of the frontrunners of the dormitory. Thankfully, your second meeting has Floyd in a better mood than before, and he decides that you’re interesting before bestowing you your very own nickname; catfish. You do not appreciate it.

Jade is easy enough to get along with, you’ve discovered it’s good to just do as he says and as long as he has nothing to gain from it, he won’t torment you (too much). Though, he does make your hackles rise every once in a while because dear Seven he gives you the heebie-jeebies, even despite the perfectly polite thing he has going on.

Azul, it takes you way too long to befriend. He starts off avoiding you almost entirely, like you’re a contagious disease (if only you knew). You’re not the type to suck up to anyone, and definitely not the type to force close proximity with someone who seems to hate you, so you leave him alone. Eventually, one potion explosion, two torn contracts, and one messed up lounge later, you and Azul become acquaintances. Friends, maybe. Uh, tentatively.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Azul thinks you’re unnecessarily high-strung. Well, where do you get the energy to always be so combative and hot-tempered? He’d rather stay away from people like you when business isn’t involved. He’s one to always keep calm and cool after all, he doesn’t think he’d get along with you at all.

Your tendency to act according to your nature and intuition and just general however you feel like acting, it’s an enigma for sure. Azul prefers a plan and at least three other backup plans, so you running headfirst into any situation makes him sigh and take another step back from you. Sevens know it might be contagious (does not call you stupid to your face, but to your back? Absolutely).

The first time he saw you almost bite Floyd’s head off for just touching your things without your permission, it was enough for him to put another strike on his record. Oh dear, you really are a handful, aren’t you? Does not realize your territorialism extends to people until Jade showed him what happened to the last student that tried messing with one of the dwarves.

Azul thinks he needs new glasses. Is that you? Looking so sweet and cuddly with your friends? Really? He gets flashbacks to when you almost scratched his eyes out that time he tried roping you into one of his contracts. Now seeing you all clingy with that celebrity, he feels…uncomfortable. It must be because you’re acting strange (he’s not jealous, thank you very much).

Love story climax:

“Yeah their food is crazy good,” you grin at Neige, helping him choose a few items on the menu, “as long as the bill is paid, at least.”

While Azul is flattered at your actions to recommend the Mostro Lounge to your closest friend who’d dropped by for a visit, there’s an annoying, itchy, gnawing feeling in one of his hearts that makes him unable to sit still. He pushes your original waiter aside and approaches your table with his little notepad, shooting you the most charming smile he’s able to give. He taps his pen against the paper to get your attention. “Y/N, I’m so glad to see you stop by again. I assume you’ll have the usual?”

“Oh, hey Azul,” he does not fail to notice the way your tone gets softer with him, “yes please. And can you add some other dishes for my friend here? Maybe two or three of your most popular ones, just so he can try them.”

Azul nods, jotting down your order. Then, he places a hand over his chest, grinning, “Of course, and just for you, it’s free of charge!”

It doesn’t take him long to confess now that he knows you like him too.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Thinks it’s hot 100%, he will die on this hill. While he still doesn’t appreciate you constantly getting into fights with other people, seeing you angry is so interesting to him. Also, you turn down the sarcasm with him, so he can fully enjoy seeing you tear someone a new one. Will not stop you unless it’s beginning to get physical.

His hair is about to turn white. Except, it’s already white. Anyway, the point is that you stress him out very much, as you being reckless means you tend to get into situations that isn’t in his Plan A. Or B. Or C. He bails you out of trouble with a calm smile and an eloquent speech, and it’s usually enough to resolve the situation. This doesn’t mean he likes you having virtually no self-control or self-reflection skills though, you’ll have to have a long talk with him (communication is key).

Azul thinks it’s cute when you let him pop your personal bubble, and he’s very happy to watch you try to pick a fight with anyone who gets too close to either you or him (keyword being try, he does his best to stop any actual fights from happening). He doesn’t mind you seeing him as part of your ‘territory’, as long as he gets something in return (and you don’t get too suffocating).

Watching you curl up into him whether in public or private gets him flustered, but especially in public. Angelfish, the big bad businessman has a reputation to uphold, you know? Still, he can’t find it in himself to push you off when you’re just so adorable like this, knowing how feisty you typically are. Do try to save it for private spaces though, he would also like to cling onto you shamelessly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

Something is off about the person Neige bumped into. Call it a gut feeling, or maybe it was the way the brown haired student was instantly alert, sweeping the white haired boy to a ‘safer’ distance before deciding on whether or not it was worth it to actually face you and Neige. You’re not sure what exactly is wrong, but your intuition is saying that this is not the kind of person your all-too-naive friend is supposed to fraternize with.

“It’s fine.”

His answer is curt, and he steers the other boy away immediately. You share a look with Neige, when you click your tongue and pull him along to find a map.

“They seemed nice.”

You hope there will not come a day when your friend is at the mercy of people with bad intentions, as it is very likely that he’d be eaten alive. “They seemed like bad news. Everyone here seems like bad news.” You reply, finally finding the botanical gardens where the cafe had been set up. You sit across from Neige at a table where some student takes your orders. Neige asks for a caramel macchiato with extra caramel and some macarons, and you opt for something a little less diabetic. “Don’t say that, Y/N. They didn’t even do anything to us, even though I was at fault for bumping into them. Isn’t that nice?”

You roll your eyes, “It’s nice that they didn’t, what, beat us up? Have higher standards, LeBlanche.”

“They seem like they’d make for good friends, that’s all,” he laughs softly.

“You think that of everyone.”

“Maybe you should give it a try.”

Exchange program:

Neige’s great plan to get you more “accustomed” to people is to throw you to NRC in the school’s newly-cooked-up exchange student program. You can’t stop him, because he really is only thinking of the best for you, but it doesn’t mean you have to like it, right? You get put in Scarabia because they have a lot of room.

Jamil is…okay. He’s a lot of things, but mostly, he’s not someone you’d ever find back at RSA. He’s a stressed out nanny most of the time, but there are a few moments when he feels more morally gray than people should probably be.

Kalim, however, you get along with splendidly. With him as your housewarden, you almost feel like you’re back with your normal circle of friends. Except Kalim is like, horrendously richer than them (and a bit more airheaded, though you think that could still be debated).

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Sorry, but most of your sarcasm is going to bounce right off Kalim’s head. He will not notice it unless you’re really blunt about it, in which case, why? It’s not easy to be mad at someone who’s so genuine all the time, and being unnecessarily mean to him is just, well, mean. It’s best to just go along with him. You can’t win against this type of person.

Twinning! No, seriously, you’re two cookies cut from the same dough, with the exact same cookie cutter. You and Kalim are exactly the same in this kind of thing, and it drives Jamil absolutely insane. Sorry to say but whatever trouble you stir up you’re going to have to face yourself; Kalim is no help, he rarely even has to face the consequences of his own actions, much less yours.

Kalim is the kind of guy to unintentionally get too close, like, all the time. No he doesn’t mean it, but it also doesn’t help when your instincts go nuts because he borrowed a pencil without asking. He does notice that you’re very protective of your stuff, but he doesn’t really notice what he does most of the time, though he tries to respect your boundaries. Does not notice it translates to people.

Oh hey! You’re hanging out with Neige, that’s so cool, can he come with? No…? You want some time with your friend because he’s only visiting for a short time? That’s cool…yeah, he can give you guys space. It’s not very often that the Al-Asim heir finds something that makes him feel disappointed or upset, but this is certainly one of them. And the worst part is, he doesn’t even know why.

Love story climax:

You’re such a sight to behold.

Kalim wonders if Neige knows how lucky he is, able to touch you and hug you like he does. You don’t even fight back, only returning the embrace with a smile. There’s a sharp pain in Kalim’s chest and he wonders what he has to do in order for you to let him that close. He’s your friend too, isn’t he? It’s…so unfair.

“Kalim?”

Jamil approaches him with a worried expression. “Are you okay? You’ve been staring at the fountain for a while.”

He sees the change in Jamil’s face when he notices that it’s you sitting by the fountain. “I see.” The words make Kalim laugh. He rests his elbows on the railing and leans forward, resting his chin on his palms. Of course, Jamil would know. Jamil would understand. Jamil can see the blooming feelings in his chest that he himself took far too long to get.

He wonders if you know.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Being in a relationship does not make Kalim able to detect sarcasm. If you ever try to sass him, he will take it at face value. Anyway, now that you’re this close, it’s easier to understand that with his background, Kalim has never wanted for anything, and no one ever really says no to him. He has a tendency to not hear what you’re saying sometimes, only believing in what he wants to hear. You’re going to need to find some time to discuss this with him.

The only way that this would differ from when you were just strangers/friends with Kalim, is that Jamil is now kind of obligated to help you out when you find yourself in situations you can’t (and likely don’t want to) talk your way out of. At some point he just hypnotizes you to stay out of trouble, at least for a weekend, so he can breathe. Between you and Kalim, he’s probably about to overblot again.

Are you jealous? Kalim laughs it off and hugs you, promising he only loves you and no one else! It’s unlikely he understands the nuances, but Jamil assures you it’s better that way. Your protectiveness goes a bit unnoticed, if only because he’s used to bodyguards and being protected, and it’s also very unlikely that he notices your possessiveness.

Kalim lives for displays of affection! Physical touch, gift giving, words of affirmation—his most fluent language is every love language ever. You want to hug in the middle of a crowd? Sure, he might lose you in the throng of people, after all. Want to kiss? Why not? Make sure not to miss his lips, okay? Private, public, with an audience or alone, Kalim will love you and he will do it in a way that you will never doubt his feelings for you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t—oh! You’re one of Vil’s friends, right?” Neige holds out a hand to the purple-haired boy for a handshake while you look on with a raised brow. “Um, Epel, I think, is what he called you?”

This Epel kid puts on a smile and shakes Neige’s hand, but it’s easy to tell it’s fake. He’s looking around nervously, as if to ascertain that no one sees him holding hands with Neige, and he takes it back as quickly as he’d put it out. “Right, I need to go, it was nice seeing you,” Epel laughs awkwardly and attempts to leave. He’s rooted in place once his name is called out by someone tall, blonde, and annoyingly pretty. You know from watching your friend’s works that this is the person who often played his rival; Vil Schoenheit. He does not give you the impression that he considers Neige a friend the way that Neige sees him go be.

“Epel, it’s time to go back for rehearsals,” he snaps at the younger boy, before putting on a perfectly practiced smile as he turned to Neige, “apologies for the trouble, we’ll leave you be now.”

And they walk away.

Your friend next to you is waving happily while you cross your arms.

(Clearly, that pompous-looking peacock has something against Neige.)

“It’s a shame, I wanted to introduce you to Vil, but he seems very busy.”

You scoff lightly, but at the very least, you try to mask your distaste. There’s no need for you to tell him that Vil likely hates his guts and the very dirt he steps on, not unless the other makes a move on it. “I don’t need to know anyone here,” you roll your eyes and hold onto his wrist, pulling him away, “let’s just find that cafe. Botanical gardens, right?”

“Right!”

Exchange program:

Due to a few…accidents, the faculty members of RSA have chosen you to represent the school in an exchange student program (they want you shipped off to NRC, like, bad). Pomefiore is the very lucky winner of the “which dorm should this kid be in” raffle, which means hell for you.

Epel is surprisingly funny. He’s probably one of the prettiest people you’ve ever met (and RSA is filled with pretty boys), yet his natural way of doing things is so crude, for lack of a better word. He feels good to chill with, and escape from all the prissiness that the dorm (and its housewarden) has to offer. Rook, though, you stay far away from. Sometimes when you’re alone, you feel like someone is watching you. And it’s probably him.

If there was anyone in this entire school that you absolutely loathe, it’s the world-renowned model actor blah blah blah Vil. He cannot stand your flippant attitude and you cannot stand his everything.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Vil does not know who Jesus Christ is, but I assure you that if he did, the name would be on his tongue 24/7. You don’t stand a chance in a verbal or physical fight with Vil, so you’ve learned to settle for making stupid comments behind his back. That he can still hear. He finds you very frustrating to work with, but he does love a challenge. You’ll learn to be more elegant by the time he’s done with you (you will not).

Part of the ‘does not give a fuck’ club. Whatever mess you find yourself in is your business, do you understand? He’s not one for spoon feeding, potato, so all your problems are your own to bear. Vil thinks that basing everything off intuition and instinct is straight up barbaric, but unfortunately for both you and him, you can’t be moved to Savanaclaw.

What are you, an animal? He can understand not wanting other people to touch your possessions, but must you hiss like some sort of raccoon? Fine, he’ll back off if he must. Your possessiveness of people doesn’t escape him, he just doesn’t think it’s any of his business. However, your actions now, in part, reflect Pomefiore which is under his rule and jurisdiction. Watch how you act.

It’s such an ugly feeling, and one that Vil refuses to define. And it’s Neige again, why is it always Neige? He knows you’re close but must you be that close? You’re always against people being in your ‘bubble’, so when he sees you all over that doe-eyed rival of his, it leaves him seething. Stop holding his hand, stop whispering so close to his ear, stop ignoring Vil…please…

Love story climax:

“Mira, Mira, who is the most beautiful of them all?”

Since he already knows the answer, why does he keep asking? Vil’s never pegged himself as a masochist. Then, what the hell is he doing to himself?

“Searching. The account with most comments tagged as beautiful, Neige LeBlanche.”

…Of course.

Why is it that Neige can get what he can’t have every single time? He works just as hard, doesn’t he? If not more. Neige is the protagonist, Vil is the antagonist. Neige is the hero, Vil is the villain. Neige is your best friend.

Who is Vil to you? Do you even think about him half the amount of times that he thinks of you? Is he a stranger? An acquaintance? A naggy dorm leader that you wish to avoid as much as possible?

He’s come second to your best friend one too many times.

He’s not giving up your heart, not to Neige, not to anyone.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Congratulations, you’ve been upgraded from annoying (derogatory) to annoying (affectionate)! While he doesn’t enjoy your cattiness too much, Vil does like a bit of bite. He’ll indulge you just a little, everything’s fine in moderation, after all. Just make sure you know when to tone it down, darling.

Vil is a responsible person, and he expects you to be responsible too. If you pick a fight all on your own, he has no qualms letting you face the consequences by yourself. But he’s not heartless. If it really is too much for you to handle, or if it’s not your fault, he’s more than happy to help you mediate things (or beat someone up idk).

Jealousy isn’t pretty, but he rather likes the color on you. This man is beloved by literal millions so you’ll have a hard time keeping him all to yourself. But if it’s any consolation, his love is all yours, alright? Vil wouldn’t mind a possessive lover just as long as you know your place. If you think of him as part of your territory? Well, why not?

Vil Schoenheit has a reputation to keep. He can’t just let you do whatever; he’s a public figure. So all your lovey dovey-ing will have to wait until you and him are behind closed, locked, chained doors with shut windows covered by heavy curtains, do you understand? If you do, then feel free to adore him as much as you want to. He will return your affection in kind.

“I didn’t notice you there, sorry!”

“It’s fine…gosh these normies are so clumsy, can’t even walk without tripping over their own feet…though I guess I’m not one to talk.”

Your sense of hearing has an impeccable range, at least, more than enough to hear this walking matchstick’s grumbling that he’d likely meant to keep to himself. You glare at him and push Neige back, rolling up your sleeves. This guy might be tall, but he’ll bend to your level with a nice kick at the groin. “What’d you call my friend, you blue-raspberry-flavored lightstick?”

“Y/N, stop it!”

He squealed, seemingly panicking as he backed away. “What the, I say a few words and you pick a fight irl? That’s so lame.”

“I swear to the Seven if another stupid word leaves your—”

“Threat detected.”

A cute, blue-haired (blue-flamed?) robot kid is pointing some pretty big laser guns your way, so you’re forced to take a step back, watching him slowly lower them. “Hello, please refrain from threatening my big brother, or I’ll have to annihilate you.” The kid warns you with a chipper tone of voice, but he’s glaring at you harshly.

“Y/N,” Neige whispers, “let’s just go.”

You weigh your options and decide that, even though you can probably take that six-foot gremlin, it’s very unlikely you’ll come out unscathed with the adorable death machine in the mix. You send the man one last glare while your friend pulls you away from possible homicide.

Exchange program:

The greenhouse going up in flames was definitely not your fault. Uh, totally unrelated sentence aside, you’ve been chosen to represent RSA to go on an exchange student program to NRC. Because no one from Ignihyde was at the meeting (physically), they couldn’t exactly turn you down. Most people ignored the panicking tablet, anyway.

Ortho is a sweetheart, you’ve found, when you’re not threatening to de-ball his beloved older brother. But the catch is that you can’t spend much time with him without also spending time with Idia. Which, ew.

Your housewarden is someone you barely ever saw. But you’ve taken it upon yourself to annoy him as much as humanly possible (no you’re not petty who said that), so you usually camp outside his door to spook him from ever leaving. This escalates to occasional talks through the door, which turns into him slipping you a controller, to him realizing you can’t play if you don’t see the screen, to actually letting you hang out in his room.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Make no mistake, Idia’s tongue is just as poisonous as yours, if not more. The combination usually leads to trash talk that once made Ortho splash the two of you with cold water. He thinks you’re funny, but you’re both petty so most verbal fights turn to you two swatting at each other like children.

Bro, don’t you have a strategy for every level? You can’t win if you just wing it all the time, y’know? Idia’s the type of gamer who spends several hours at a game’s wiki page just to find the best route to the finish line, so you being as you are kinda gives him a headache. And look, he’s not helping you out, okay? None of his business.

What…you chill in his room but don’t let him have some of your honey butter potato chips? That’s lame af, but like whatever. He notices the people thing when he sees you through one of the cameras (that he did not plant nuh uh) in school, about to commit murder because someone called Ortho things neither you nor Idia appreciate. Hey, he’s rooting for you.

It took him like three weeks just to be able to sit two meters away from you without you bitching about it, so Idia is, understandably, a bit peeved when he sees you practically when he finds you hugging Ortho. He shouldn’t be annoyed, it’s Ortho, for sevens’ sake! But it’s not like he can just stop feeling frustrated. He can’t stop feeling disappointed. He can’t stop feeling…wait, what is he feeling? Jealousy? No! Absolutely not!

Love story climax:

He has to look away when you turn your head, lest he get caught in the act of totally-not-staring. He tries to focus on the game and on the way his character is moving on the screen.

But why is it that he feels like it’s a waste of time?

He loves gaming! The online world is his passion, his everything. But when you’re sitting right beside him, he thinks he’d prefer to admire you, adore you, instead of beating his high score at Kingdom Odyssey: Rise of Dragonheart. He takes another peek at your pretty face, glowing by the light of the screen. Your features morph into one of excitement, and he feels his heart lightening too when he catches your bright smile.

“I won! You lost, suck it!”

He doesn’t even mind you gloating, because your smug smirk is just…

Ew. Gross. Blegh.

It’s like he got turned into a shoujo manga character right there. Idia turns back to the screen. “Dumb luck, noob. Next round it’s gg for you.”

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

He doesn’t fight with you as often…but he still fights with you. Nothing serious of course, but trolling each other has become as much of a love language as quality time is. Idia really does enjoy trash talking with you the most, if only because you turn it into a competition. When you lose, he makes you do something silly. Like uh, marrying his character in Sunfall Brookes…

Worry not! Idia, being the super awesome and totally cool genius he is, has whipped something up so that Ortho is behind you at every turn. He can’t support your stupidity irl most of the time, but having his little brother (who is fully equipped with deadly laser guns) back you up is probably good enough. So it’s fine, you’re fine, worse comes to worst Ortho’ll pick you up and fly you right back to your loving boyfriend (who may or may not be waiting to hear about your stupid actions).

While you do share your potato chips now, it seems to have become a bit more troublesome. Like, what do you mean does he love Moonkiss Eclipse the Magical Sparkle Girl more than you? Of course he loves you more (pssssst Ortho can you hide the body pillow before my s/o pops me into a body bag). Your main enemy will be the thousands of fictional characters that Idia loves, so good luck!

Idia’s not like, super great at public displays of affection. He’s not great in public, in general. Your clinginess and kisses and whatnot will have to wait until you’re back at either his or your room, ‘kay? It’s worth it though, you get to see a shy, blushy Idia with flaming pink hair.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I AM FINE, HUMAN! YOU CANNOT INJURE ME WITH YOUR WEAK HUMAN BODY!”

Neige’s sheepish apology is met with a loud, annoying, obnoxious response. It makes you want to deck the green haired man in the face just for damaging your eardrums. “Hey, cut it out, will you? You’re loud,” you click your tongue, glaring at him, “and very annoying.”

“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME ANNOYING, HUMAN?! I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, ONE OF MALLEUS-SAMA’S MOST LOYAL RETAINERS, AM A FIGURE OF—”

You figure you’re unlikely to get anything useful out of this student whose head seems very deep inside his own ass. Just as you’re planning your escape route (or how to get away with murder), a voice that successfully stops the blabber arrives.

“Sebek?” a beautiful horned fae intercedes from the sidelines, “I thought you were with Silver and Lilia.”

“MY LIEGE!”

This is probably your cue to leave.

With your hand wrapped around Neige’s wrist, you whisk him far far away from this school’s legion of freaks. As good as the eye candy (the horned fae) was, another word from the green weirdo is bound to have you arrested after socking him in the gut.

“Y/N? Where are we going?” Neige asks hesitantly.

“To the cafe,” you answer curtly, “then after that we’re going right back for your SDC practice, okay? I cannot stand one more second with all these NRC students around.”

Exchange program:

RSA held a very, very random name drawing for the exchange student program, and surprise, it’s you! And apparently, during a housewarden meeting, Diasomnia offered to be your dorm during your stay (no one needs to know Diasomnia’s housewarden wasn’t there).

You start sort-of acquaintances with Silver, but he’s actually an amazing antithesis to you. Since, you know, you’re always blazing in your fiery temper and he’s just…asleep. Maybe not antithesis. Anyway he’s a good friend.

Being in the same dorm as Sebek does not make you tolerate him more. In fact, you butt heads so much that Lilia’s assigned someone in Diasomnia to always be watching the two of you when in the same room. Lilia is cool, he’s cute, he’s super fun. You get along nicely with him once you’ve gotten used to being jumpscared.

Malleus, to be honest, you barely ever saw. He’s a bit stuck in his own world, and it’s not as if you cross paths often in your schedule. He’s more a bystander in your world before something (a fight with one of his retainers, you can guess which one) happens, and you finally manage to call him a ‘friend’.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

My, you’ve got quite some courage, saying those things in front of the Prince of Briar Valley. Malleus doesn’t mind though, in fact, he welcomes it. He sees it as a sign that you’re friends. After all, none too many would do as you do and sass him, saying such crude and bold words. As long as you don’t cross a line, the fae prince will smile with a ready retort in light fun.

He thinks your antics are amusing, to say the least. But you know that thing where his superiority complex kind of comes out every once in a while? Yeah, he sees you as entertaining. Kinda condescending. The good thing about this is that he doesn’t get mad at the situations you find yourself in, plus it only takes a snap of his fingers to clean up your mess. The bad thing is that you feel like half a court jester.

Malleus understands your natural instinct to claim some place and things as territory. He’s a dragon fae, after all, and those myths and legends of their greed do hold some degree of merit. This extends to people? How interesting. Watches on with amusement as you tackle a student to the ground for calling Lilia ‘weird’.

In all his years of living, this is the first time that anything has made him feel this way. There’s a bitter taste lingering on the back of his tongue, and neon green sparks curl and flicker around his fingers. It’s out of his control, he can’t help it; you’re so unbelievably unlike yourself right now it’s driving him insane. Why would you cuddle with Silver under a tree like this? Do you feel something for his knight? Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Love story climax:

“Beloved.”

The word is strange, weighing heavily on his lips. And yet, as he watches your sleeping figure, mind almost subconsciously erasing Silver from the picture, he finds it to be a word befitting of you. Lovely. “It will be dark soon,” Malleus whispers, and the prince is brought to his knees next to you if only so that you may hear his yearning, “it is best to return indoors and sleep there.”

Your eyes flutter open; you are a vision he cannot ever hope to erase from his mind.

“Sorry, I was,” you let out a soft yawn, stretching your limbs, “I got really tired from PE. Oh, I should wake up Silver.”

Malleus can’t help the lightning that zooms across his fingertips. You didn’t seem to notice the term he’d used for you, still addled from sleep. You’re focused on gently shaking his retainer awake.

It matters not, for you will be his soon enough.

(How could you ever hope to be more territorial than a dragon, dearest?)

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Being assertive and straightforward with your words is a great trait of rulers, beloved (yeah, in a relationship means he’s planning for marriage babe, keep up). Sass and sarcasm will have to be taken down a notch though, although he loves you, the faes in Briar Valley are old and not very accommodating of your hobby of wordplay. He does enjoy it, however, so feel free to speak as you wish when the two of you are alone.

In this kind of situation, he babies you a lot more. It’s not really condescension though, he believes that you can handle yourself especially since he now sees you as an equal. But Malleus is highly, if not overly, indulgent of the one he loves. Sees no need to change it unless something big happens. Is more liable to clean up after your messes, this time out of love.

Malleus thinks you’re so adorable when you’re jealous, with the way you get so fussy and protective over him. It’s not as if you really have a reason for jealousy, the prince is less ‘lusted after by many suitors’ and more feared. At least, that’s what he believes. So you only have Lilia and Silver to comfort you after a long day of fighting with his many many admirers.

Have a sense of decorum, dear, a public place is not suitable for displays of affection. Or so he says, but really, who is Malleus to stop you if you wish to be loving and sweet? He’ll melt faster than you can even say his name. He will have to hold back on reciprocating temporarily, but rest assured he has a mental tally and will be repaying you threefold once you’re in his private quarters.

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst housewardens

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spxllcxstxr · 3 months ago

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Being a Maia Witch and in the Fellowship • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi, if you're taking requests, can I get headcanons for the Fellowship? The reader is a Maia witch and is sort of a colleague of Gandalf's but he's also a bit of a mentor. Just interested to see how you think everyone would interact with the reader :) thank you so much and I hope you stay safe, happy, and healthy — anon

Warnings: reader is one of the blue wizards, mostly gender neutral though you are called a witch, mix of book and movie canon

A.N: Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy these hcs, I really enjoy writing about the fellowship!

•

Since stepping foot on Middle Earth you had always been a wanderer

Of course you had spent time with the other Maiar; though you had your own specialized magic, Gandalf mentored you a lot

You always felt closer to Radagast the Brown; he cared deeply about nature and the living world that you lived in

You had been known to almost vanish for years at a time, exploring some deep cavern or somewhere high in mountains, it was always on a whim

You were elusive--all the races of Middle Earth had their own names and tall tales about you

But as the Age of the Elves starts to dwindle you start to ease down on the amount of adventures you have

Until your dear old friend Gandalf the Grey shows up on your doorstep out of breath with and almost crazed look in his eyes

A hobbit has the One Ring

So much for not traveling

You join the Fellowship at the Council of Elrond--no one opposes having another magical being in their midst

You try to get to know the other members better, it has been some time since you have interacted with people so your communication skills are a little rusty

Gandalf trusts you, of course, he is thrilled you have agreed to join them

He confides in you about the quest and the situation; things he would not tell the others

You two understand each other in a way no one else in the Fellowship can

The two of you, to fill the time, talk about your own travels and the history of Middle Earth

"You have been gone for too long, (Y/n), Middle Earth has suffered in your absence."

"Oh Gandalf, I needed to see everything before it was too late."

Boromir is a little wary of you, in Gondor they believe your presence is a bad omen since you do not show yourself too frequently near Minas Tirith

He warms up to you while travelling to the Mines of Moria because you and Gandalf exerted so much power trying to save them

"You are not the ill portent my father has talked about, witch. Why did you avoid Minas Tirith for so long?"

Aragorn has probably seen glimpses of you throughout his life and because of his travels he has heard many stories about you

Honestly he's very intrigued and asks many questions about what you have seen

He really trusts you almost immediately, you were welcomed in Rivendell, showing that Elrond trusted you

In Lothlorien Galadriel also holds you in high esteem, she's surprised you're in the Fellowship; not because you do not care about the fate of Middle Earth, but because you never tend to stay in one place long

"You must guide me, (Y/n). With Gandalf lost...I cannot proceed without council..."

Legolas is all over you--endless questions about the world and the time that has passed, but in like a subdued manner

He trusts you, though in recent years your reputation has been tarnished by his father, who is of the thought that you and the other wizards should have helped them fight against the spiders. He believes the Greenwood fell to darkness due to the negligence of the wizards

"Do you believe the Greenwood will be cured after we destroy the Ring, (Y/n)? I have missed my home..."

Gimli goes through the motions of meeting a witch only a handful of people have encountered in your lifetime

He's the one that discovered your sense of humor and loves joking with you

You ask him about recent dwarven culture, dwarves are wary of outsiders so it has been a while since you have seen their tools and creations

"Just you wait, lass, what we have created is unlike anything you have ever seen!"

Merry is genuinely delighted that you joined them

He feels a lot safer with two wizards, even if you’re not that experienced with fighting

Merry trusts your judgement and certainly looks for your approval just like he does with Gandalf

(Also please show him magic he loves Gandalf’s fireworks and he wants to see what else magic can do since Gandalf doesn’t really show anyone that stuff)

“Can you make Boromir’s shield disappear, (Y/n)? Or perhaps make Legolas’ hair a different color?”

Pippin is like Merry on crack

He wants to know every little detail about everything but at the same time he is chewing your ear off

Honestly he’s probably telling you his life story too

He enjoys your company, like Merry he feels a lot more secure in this quest and he also comes to see you as a friend

Wants to see your magic, even if you just create sparks at your fingertips

Probably your number one fan

“Can I see your staff (Y/n)? I promise not to use it to singe Gandalf’s beard!”

Sam is very shy around you and is very protective of Frodo

Sure Gandalf trusts you, but you’ve only ever been a fable in the Shire

He knows nothing about you, what have you been doing this entire time?

He does warm up to you, though, once you prove to him that you are truly there to help them succeed

Learns a lot about herbs from you, whether they be for cooking or medicine

“Tell me about the Elves, (Y/n). You must know so much about them. Rivendell was so beautiful…”

Frodo is highly suspicious of you for quite a while

It is mostly because he is afraid of the Ring and its influence

He doesn’t know you like he knows Gandalf so it takes him a bit to trust you

Bilbo has only told him rumors of you

It isn’t until Gandalf dies that he really starts looking to you for guidance

He takes to you mostly at night when everyone is asleep because he is away from prying eyes

“This quest leads me to my death, doesn’t it witch? I do not know how to even begin to understand that…”

Overall you guys learn to bond and grow together throughout the quest

You have never been so happy to be around people despite the circumstances, and you start to understand why Gandalf has always been so involved with the people of Middle Earth

•

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 10 months ago

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LOTR/ The Hobbit Preference: How You Met (2/4)

(1) (3) (4)

Kili

You and Kili meet during the quest to reclaim Erebor. Oddly enough you arrived on the quest right as the company were in the middle of fighting off a bunch of orcs. Gandalf was relieved to see you but the presence of such a cute human woman seemed to confused the rest of the company.

“Y/N! Thank the Valar you’re here!” Gandalf shouted as you walked into the fight.

Kili was confused and as he looked to see the sweet looking woman, he was awestruck. His awe and confusion only intensified as you were running towards him sword drawn.

“Get down!” He heard you shout as you pushed him aside, your blade landing in the guts of an orc.

Before he had the chance to thank you, you were off. Managing to slay just as many as the rest of the company combined, they all looked at you in awe.

“Guess I’ll be a good asset to the team.” You smile at the group of dwarves as you make your way back over to them.

“Especially to keep you safe.” You wink at Kili, causing the prince to smirk and blush.

Legolas

Legolas and you meet when he goes to Rohan to meet with his friend Eomer. You worked as a barmaid at one of the pubs in town and manage to make the sweet elf blush.

“Hello, your highness. The regular today?” You ask as you approach the table Eomer and Legolas sat at.

“Yes and please, just Eomer.” He politely replies.

“So sorry, and who is our lovely elf friend?” You ask smirking as you turned to a very cute blushing Legolas.

“This is Legolas. He is the prince of the woodland realm.” Eomer introduced.

“Would you like me to call you ‘your highness’ or just Legolas, sweetheart?” You ask the cute elf, now completely ignoring Eomer.

“Uh, ahem, a-ah, ju-just Legolas, is fine.” He shyly stutters out, earning a chuckle disguised as a cough from his friend, and sweet giggle from you.

“How long are you in town for, Legolas?” You ask him, your whole body now facing Legolas.

“Uh-ah, a-a couple more days.” He replies as a blush grows on his pale cheeks.

“Well I guess you’ll have to come back before you leave so you can take me somewhere nice.” You smirk and wink as you turn around, leaving a smirking Eomer and a blushing Legolas.

Lindir

Lindir and you meet when your friend Bard takes you to Rivendell for a spring festival. You watch Lindir play so beautifully that you become enthralled.

As Lindirs performance comes to an end you can’t help but enthusiastically cheer louder than the rest of the audience, embarrassing you slightly but leaving a light blush on Lindirs cheeks.

“You play so beautifully. We don’t have music like that where I’m from; your music sounds like something from a lovely dream.” You can’t help but gush at the sweet elf.

“We-well, thank you very much, I appreciated your applause. It’s not the response I usually get from other elves but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, my lady.” He confessed.

“I’m glad you appreciated it, I was a little embarrassed but I’m glad it brought you joy. I’m not very used to elven culture.” You shyly smile.

“Perhaps I could show you around the festivities, make you feel a bit more comfortable.” He offered.

“That sounds lovely.” You agree as you take the arm he offers.

#Kili #Kili x reader #Kili imagine #legolas #legolas imagine #legolas x reader #Lindir #Lindir x reader #Lindir imagine #lotr #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine

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welcomingdisaster · 1 year ago

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second age middle-earth tumblr simulator

🪷 theancientarts Follow

i miss beleriand fr

🪷 theancientarts Follow

do you kids even know about the pools of ivrin

( 10 notes )

#used to make fun of people who said they feel old #joke on me ig

🔨 gettinghammered Follow

You go to Eregion to marvel at the fruits of elven-craft. I go to Eregion to FUCK DWARVES. We are not the same

( 4 0 1 notes )

#nsft mention #thirsty posting

🐻tinnilinthewoods Follow

portrait of elros half-elven got me yearning for the fate of man in the club tonight...

❄️tinuvielstanaccount Follow

do you know he has a twin brother

🐻tinnilinthewoods Follow

girl i'm not gonna lie to you the salt and pepper is literally 80% of the appeal

( 3 0 5 notes)

🌊beachsidewanderer Follow

anyone who says morgoth was the epitome of evil has never met a seagull

🌊beachsidewanderer Follow

stop reblogging this i cannot afford to go even a little viral right now

( 1 3 8 9 notes )

💥 butthatsjustanelftheory Follow

Soo....

( 18 notes )

🌌starmirror Follow

#i swear everyone cares more about who my dad is than my ability to do my thrice-cursed job #shut up!! shut up!! #sooo close to just fucking with people about this

( 4 notes )

☘️ cloverthorns Follow

i could get that old man sopping wet and pregnant

☘️ cloverthorns Follow

✨this post is about lord celebrimbor of eregion ✨

( 4 9 2 0 notes )

#lena speaks #silly shit tag #sorry for doing another these are so fun

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middleearthpixie · 1 year ago

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Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room.

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice.

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups.

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him.

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh.

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations.

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop.

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it.

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand.

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else.

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee.

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so.

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left.

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes?

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there.

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.”

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood.

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him.

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold.

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare.

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples.

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had.

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.”

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well.

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own.

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms.

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.”

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

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#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Richard Armitage #Thorin x reader #Thorin x you #nonny asks #pixie answers

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 12 days ago

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I might be one of the few fans who don’t really see how Galadriel was sidelined in Season 2. Her connection with Nenya and her growing into her ring-bearer role was such a huge plot throughout the season, as well as her connecting to other races of Middle-earth, namely the Orcs. She’s also starting to understand she can’t possibly fight Sauron alone (which was her character arc in Season 1 and Season 2).

The show is called “Rings of Power”, Galadriel is the keeper of one of those rings of power. There is no way she can be sidelined, because she’s at the core of the story. The fact she’s not doing direct battle doesn’t change that.

If you are expecting Season 1 Galadriel moving forward, I’m afraid you’ll end up disappointed because that’s not her character arc in Tolkien lore during the Second age. The problem here is they moved her First age character to the Second age, and it’s creating a bunch of problems story-wise and a process that should last a few centuries looks instantaneous.

There are so many Galadriel plots the show hasn’t dealt with yet and it has nothing to do with Lothlórien. I see many fans worrying about her founding it and staying there barefoot and pregnant in Season 3. I don’t see any TV show, in this day and age, doing that to a female lead, even if and when Celeborn returns. And we know he will, because the showrunners confirmed it last year, we just don’t know when, so it can be Season 3, 4 or 5.

And this is why I don’t think we’ll see Celebrían on the show (maybe pregnant Galadriel in the epilogue or something). The elves are at war with Sauron, and will be until the end of the show. Everyone likes the bring up the legendarium, except for the fact Elves don’t have children during wartime. Celebrían was suppose to be born already during the show’s timeline, because she was born before the War of the Elves and Sauron (which started in Season 2 and will continue in Season 3), and we have the War of the Last Alliance next (Season 5):

We still have to see:

Galadriel growing into her political role (Lothlórien is not only a safe haven from evil, but a policial center, too); we already saw her as a commander and a war strategist, but the political side of her character has yet to be explored by the show;

Galadriel’s powers: she has telepathic powers (in the lore she uses them to talk to Frodo and Elrond); she can see into other beings’ minds, too. Her magical artifacts (mirror, phial, etc.) will probably be during the Lothlórien arc, though;

I would love for the show to explore her connection with the Dwarves (to connect to her gifting three strands of her hair to Gimli on the Third age);

I really want her to meet Gandalf, and explore the beginning of that friendship;

Actually my biggest concern about Galadriel in Season 3, and if blood binding theory is correct, is the show giving us some weird “Exorcist” stuff, with her being locked up somewhere for her “own protection” against Sauron. This would be absolutely awful, and I hope they don’t go there.

Sure, give me Galadriel wrecking stuff up with her new found powers. The show can even give me “Samara Morgan Galadriel” Peter Jackson style and other characters terrified of her, but do not lock her up, please.

The wisest way to approach “blood binding” is following the Harry Potter-Voldemort route (ironic); with nightmares, visions and access to Sauron’s mind and plans, and vice-versa. Galadriel is tormented by it but goes about her everyday life, pretending everything’s fine, until the climax of the season.

And enough of her feud with Elrond; he’s the Sam to her Frodo in the Galadriel/Frodo parallel the show is doing. His character needs to be supportive of Galadriel, and her emotional rock like Sam was to Frodo.

#Galadriel rings of power #Galadriel trop #Galadriel rop #Nenya rings of power #Saurondriel #Sauron x Galadriel #Haladriel #Elrond rings of power #Elrond RoP #Elrond trop

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bountydroid · 28 days ago

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The Lonely Elf

Haldir x female!elf!OC

Notes: In my LOTR era. This is a self-indulgent story about an OC I've had in my head for a long time. I recently rewatched ROP, The Hobbit, and LOTR (extended version of course) and my love for Haldir has returned. I don't expect anyone to read this.

TW: OC is depressed af. Sort of eating disorder if you squint? Mutual pining (Im a slut for it).

Word count: 5,748

"Will you come to, El?" Frodo's voice echoed in my ears. I felt my chest tighten as I remembered my quest with Bilbo, how it ended, how deeply it affected me. I looked down at the hobbit before kneeling in front of him.

"Of course," I say with a sad smile as I look up to the other companions who have volunteered for this perilous journey. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Frodo."

After retaking Erebor with the dwarves, I found it too difficult to return there. Bilbo knew it, he lost a lot as well. He would never admit how important Thorin was to him and he knew I understood completely. So when he offered me a place in Bag End I couldn't resist. "It is just temporary," I said to him as he smiled up at me. However, temporary for an elf is a lot different than for a hobbit. Sure I traveled here and there, but I always came back. Months turned into years, and years turned into decades and soon Bag End felt like home. Home. That was something I hadn't had in thousands of years.

I remember the village I was raised in and the generations of humans that raised me. I often wondered why, when they found a small elfling, they did not return me to my own kind. It felt selfish of them. I knew nothing of my people, their traditions, their language, I was alone in this world till I ran into a company of dwarves. Bofur warmed up to me almost immediately, he could tell I was different than other elves and before long he had convinced the rest of the company to trust me. Thorin was the last to trust me, but he had good reason. In the end, however, we became extremely close. Two lost souls in Middle Earth searching for a place we belong. During our journey to Erebor, I had started to hope that maybe when we took back the mountain I would have a home again. That dream was shattered when Thorin died. Even though the rest of the company urged me to stay, I couldn't stand the sight of that mountain. So I remained in Bag End, "an honorary Baggins" Bilbo called me. That is why when Frodo asked me to come along I couldn't say no to him. I wouldn't leave this burden to him alone.

"Please look after him," Bilbo said to me after gifting Frodo his old Mithril shirt. "He needs you."

"I will do my best, my dear friend," I said reassuringly as I placed my hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

The next morning we were off on our journey. In the month between our leaving Rivendell and the death of Gandalf our fellowship had grown quite close. Boromir and the Hobbits were becoming fast friends as he taught Merry and Pippin how to fight. Even Legolas was starting to warm up to Gimli. It made me smile as I remember traveling with Gloin, his father, and getting thrown in the Mirkwood dungeons by that very elf. However, the mood shifted wildly when Mithrandir died. It broke all of our spirits. How could we possibly hope to succeed when the strongest of us had passed? By the time we had entered Lothlórien, we were all exhausted mentally and physically. I could hear Gimli talking somewhere behind me about how dangerous these woods were and the witch that resided in them. I felt nauseous. Whether it was from fear or lack of food, I did not know. I had been in this forest before but never encountered this so-called witch, and I’m not sure I wanted to. When the party came to an abrupt halt I was taken aback. It took a moment for my eyes to focus and see the bows trained on us.

"The dwarf breaths so loud we could have shot him in the dark." An elf said to Aragorn as he stepped out from behind the archers.

It was Haldir. I felt my heart swell in my chest at the sight of him. I listened as Aragorn greeted him in the elven language.

"Aragorn! These woods are perilous. We should go back." Gimli says from behind me, fear evident in his voice.

"You have entered the realm of The Lady of The Wood. You cannot go back." Haldir responds as he looks between each member of our party before his eyes land on Frodo. "Come. She is waiting."

I could feel Frodo's anxiety radiating from behind me. I turned around and gave him a sincere smile. "It's okay Frodo," I whisper as I feel Haldir's gaze on me. I turn to meet his eyes for a second before he turns and slips behind his archers.

We followed close behind, not that we had much choice with the elves surrounding our party, and we marched until we came across a small structure and a platform that we were urged to climb upon. By the time we made it there, the sun had set and the cold had set in. I couldn't help the small shiver that ran through my body. I stood quietly next to Gimli as Haldir greeted Legolas and Aragorn in elvish.

Gimli interrupts angrily. "So much for the courtesy of the elves. Speak words we can all understand.

I gave Gimli's foot a soft, disapproving kick at his rudeness. Haldir looked down at Gimli before saying in a disgusted tone, "We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days."

"And you know what this dwarf has to say about that?" Gimli responded quickly before saying in dwarvish, "Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!"

I close my eyes as I run my hand over my face in annoyance as Aragorn addresses Gimli angrily, "That was not so courteous!"

The marchwarden looks over our party again before meeting eyes with Frodo, "You bring great evil with you." He says with a grave tone. "You can go no further."

However, Aragorn refused to accept this as he pulled Haldir aside and began to argue. If Aragorn was unsuccessful what would we do? We needed food, rest, and safety. This was our only option. I looked over at Haldir and the annoyed expression on his face as he argued with Aragorn. Like he could tell I was watching, his eyes flickered over to me. His face softened when he noticed my forlorn expression but soon his attention returned to Aragorn. I turned away sighing before walking over to Gimli.

The memory of our first meeting slipped into my mind as I stood in silence.

I was outnumbered. Dozens of orcs had caught my scent and I was out of arrows. I could see the Lothlórien forest in front of me and it was my only chance of survival. I tried my best to keep from tripping over roots and rocks as I ran through the glistening forest. I didn't have time to revel in the beauty mixed into the trees. The magic of the forest was the least of my concerns with the orc pack gaining on me.

I made a split decision to call out, in hopes I wasn't alone. "HELP!" I yell out as I continue to run blindly. Barely a second later I feel an arrow whiz past my face and the yell of an injured orc behind me. When did they get so close? Before long a handful of elves came out of the woods, easily slaughtering my attackers and then they brought their attention to me. I was a stranger to them, a threat.

An elf strode up to me with a serious expression saying something in elvish. I made a sheepish face before I explained, "I don't speak elvish." Disbelief washed across his face as he looked me up and down.

"He doesn't speak the common tongue." Another elf says from behind me. "I am Haldir, who are you and why are you in our sacred lands?"

"I am Elowen. I am sorry to enter your territory without permission I had no other choice. I can leave now if you wish." I respond.

He hums for a moment as he stares into my eyes. “What kind of elf doesn't speak elvish?” His voice was thick with disbelief. He thinks I am lying.

I sighed, my body deflating at the accusation. I was used to being treated like an outsider, but never a liar. "I was raised by humans, not elves," I say with an exasperated tone. “I know it is strange but it is the truth."

Haldir looked between my eyes for a moment, his expression was softer than it was before. “You cannot go the way you came. There are more orcs in the territory." He explained, "You will have to go to the East."

"Thank you. I will be on my way." I say before turning my back towards him, but before I can realize what is happening a hand grasps my pack and pulls me back.

"You will not go wandering these sacred forests alone." He says sternly as he holds onto my pack tightly. "I will escort you."

I gasped in surprise, “As you wish," I quickly mutter.

He tentatively lets go of me before walking in front of me, "Come."

I quickly do as I am told. The last thing I want to do is anger my guide. While we walk I study him from behind. He is calm, confident, and knows the forest well. He gracefully moves around any branches and roots jutting into the path ahead. He is beautiful like elves should be.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks, breaking the silence.

"Of course," I respond, surprised that he is speaking to me.

"Why did you never learn elvish? Some humans know it." He asks as he looks over his shoulder.

I think over his question for a minute. I haven't ever really thought about why. "I guess -" I start. "I guess I didn't feel worthy."

This causes him to stop in his tracks before turning around to face me. "You should learn." He says. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The underlying message was not lost on me. You are wrong.

The rest of the hike was relatively quiet, but the birds singing kept you company as you walked close behind your guide. The sun did not shine through the treetops making it impossible to know just how long we had been hiking. It didn’t matter to me. I was grateful for the company, even if he was silent. His presence was enough. It was at this moment that I realized just how lonely I was.

"Here." He says quietly as we reach the end of the forest. He turns to face me once again as I stare up at him.

"Oh," I said quietly, sad that our journey had ended already. "Thank you, Haldir."

He puts his hand on his chest and gives a small bow, "Go now and be safe." He says with a small smile before turning to walk away.

Before long he disappeared into the woods, and I never thought I would see him again.

"Did you have to insult him?" I asked Gimli, but before he could respond we heard Haldir's voice.

"You will follow me," He said while staring at Frodo. I couldn't help the sigh of relief that left my body.

We were safe. He explained that he was leading us to Caras Galadhon and once it was in sight it was the most beautiful place I had ever seen.

I gasped at the sight of the wooded city. "It's beautiful," I murmured.

"Indeed," Haldir responded looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

I felt my ears redden at him finally speaking to me. "Pathetic." I thought to myself.

As we entered the city I couldn't help the starstruck look on my face. Everywhere I looked was full of beauty, sparking silver buildings nestled among large trees. I felt the tension in the air as I walked side-by-side with Haldir.

"Do you remember me?" The question that had been burning in the back of my throat broke free.

He let out a small chuckle as he looked at my embarrassed expression. "How could I forget?" He responded with a teasing tone.

I smiled shyly in response before looking down at my feet. He remembers me.

We made it to the top of the forest to see an elven couple waiting for us. They gracefully made their way down the steps hand-in-hand as they looked down upon the company. I nervously glanced over at Aragorn, who was giving our hosts his full attention as he bowed his head. They seemed to almost glow, which reminded me of something Haldir said on our way here, "Lady of Light indeed." I thought to myself.

"The enemy knows you have entered here." The male elf spoke. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." He paused to look over our company before continuing. "Nine that are here, but ten set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

I winced at the mention of Gandalf's name. In the beauty of Caras Galadhon, I had almost forgotten our loss. We stayed quiet, none of us wanting to speak the truth of Mithrandir's whereabouts.

"He has fallen into shadow." The Lady of Light spoke with a look of disbelief on her face.

"He was taken by both shadow and flame," Legolas responded. "A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose." The lady responded with a comforting tone as she looked at Gimli. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad Dum fill your heart Gimli, son of Gloin, for all lands have now grown full of peril. And in all lands love, is now mingled with grief."

I could hear Boromir whimpering in despair as she stared him down. I did not understand till I heard her voice in my head as well.

"Elowen, the lonely elf, for I have heard much about you. Gandalf was very fond of you. You are welcome here." I heard her whisper in my head.

"What now becomes of this fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." The lord said. We had all thought it, but he was the first to say it out loud.

"The quest stands upon an end of a knife, stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains as long as company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace." The lady said, distracting us from her husband's question.

The promise of sleep in safety felt like something to cherish, something we were likely not to get again. I let my body relax at her words. I was grateful for her hospitality. The lady motioned to Haldir, who gave her a bow before beckoning us to follow him. We obeyed quickly, anxious to get some rest.

"You will have the opportunity to bathe as well as fresh clothing while you are here," Haldir explained as he led us to a clearing. "I will be watching over you tonight."

My traveling companions were quick to explore our new sleeping arrangements, taking in the beauty of the forest. I stayed behind, quietly standing next to Haldir as I watched the halflings excitedly look around.

"You said something about a bath?" I asked while looking over at the elf next to me. "I can't imagine we smell good," I said offering a smile.

"For your sake, I will not respond to that," He said smiling back. "Come." I let out a small giggle as I obeyed, following close behind him as we traversed on the winding paths. Eventually, we came upon a small grove, hidden by trees, and inside it lay a glistening pool of crystal clear water with a small waterfall emptying into it.

"Wow," I whispered as I took in the view.

"Fresh clothes will be brought to you," Haldir explained before bowing slightly and taking his leave.

Once he was gone I quickly started to shed off my clothing. The layers of leather armor became exhausting by the time I was fully rid of them. I folded my clothes nicely before placing them alongside the pool. I nervously dipped in a toe before realizing the water was warm. I let out a sigh of relief and I slipped my body into the welcoming water, closing my eyes as I rested against a rock. It wasn’t long till I fell asleep.

I was startled awake by the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. I looked up bewildered to see a she-elf in front of me. She gave me an apologetic look before explaining, “It is dangerous to sleep in the pool. Here I brought you fresh clothing.” She said as she motioned to a pile of white cloth.

“You have my thanks,” I responded sheepishly as she bowed and turned around to gather my old clothing. “The marchwarden has instructed us to clean these for you. Is there anything you will need for tonight?” She asked.

“No there is not,” I said. “I appreciate all you have done.”

She offered a smile before turning and disappearing, allowing me to dry off and change into the fresh clothing she had brought for me. Once dry and changed I returned to our camp for the night.

“You smell good,” Pippin said excitedly as I sat down next to my pack.

“You could too you know.” I jested, “You all smell horrible.”

“Hey now!” He responded feigning injury, “This is the smell of a REAL man!”

I let out a boisterous laugh as the hobbit flexed his muscles. We bantered for a little while longer till I could hardly keep my eyes open. I cuddled up against my pack as I fell asleep to the sound of singing elves. Legolas had said they were singing to honor the memory of Gandalf. It was beautiful.

"El, wake up," Merry said as he shook me awake. "It's breakfast time!"

I groaned as I turned away from him, "I'll eat later."

"Oh no you don't," Merry responded willfully as he shook me again.

"Fine!" I said crankily as I finally sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Someday I will be free of the stubbornness of hobbits."

As I opened my eyes I realized that the rest of the fellowship had bathed and changed as well. Everyone wore beautiful white clothing, untouched by the darkness of our journey. I followed behind the group, falling behind as my eyes drifted everywhere but the path in front of us. I didn't want food, I wanted to explore this beautiful place. I couldn't help but feel a pang of anger in my heart as I remembered all that was taken from me as a child, I could've lived my whole life in a place like Calas Galadhon. The thoughts did not leave me as we sat at the breakfast table, the noise of my companions talking and eating fading into the background as I stared at my plate. I had not eaten in some time, but I could not bring myself to take a single bite. I felt dirty, like if I touched it I would ruin it. Like I didn't deserve it. The thought brought me back to that hike with Haldir when I said I was not worthy of learning elvish. I remember the implications of his response. I was worthy of elvish, and I was worthy of this food. Everyone else had almost finished their plates by the time I took my first tentative bite.

When we had finished we were brought back to our camp by Haldir. Even on the way back from breakfast, Pippin was already asking about a second breakfast. I couldn't help but giggle at the confused expression on Haldir's face.

"There will be festivities later to honor Mithrandir, you are all welcome to come." He explains as we enter our camp.

"Thank you," Aragorn replies with his hand over his heart. "We would be most grateful to attend."

To this, Haldir nods and starts to turn away but before he can get far I grab ahold of his arm. He flinched at the sudden contact and turned to me with wide eyes. I quickly pull my hand back and bring it to my chest like I had touched a burning flame. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

'It is fine," Haldir responds with an unconvincing look on his face. "What do you need?"

“I-“I mutter out, “I was wondering if I could wander Caras Galadhon, or if someone could be my guide? I would very much like to see this magnificent place.”

He does not respond immediately, causing anxiety to settle into my heart. “Forget it,” I say quickly as I turn away.

“Wait,” Haldir called out. “I will guide you.”

“Oh.” I responded quietly before turning around, “I’m sure a marchwarden has much better things to do.”

To this, he gave me a small smile. “No, I don’t. Now please.” He said as he motioned me to follow him.

I did as I was bid, following close behind the elf as he led me through the city. He told me everything I wanted to know, anticipating my questions before I asked them. The history of Calas Galadhon was vast and complicated but quite interesting as well. He also told me much about Lady Galadriel, the Lady of Light. I spoke to him about how I heard her in my head and he confirmed, “Yes, that is part of her magic.”

“It’s quite unnerving,” I mumble. “But she is kind.”

We continued along the path, passing many elves along the way as they went about their daily life. I wondered what it would be like to live here. What would I spend my days doing?

After some time we made it back to camp. I did little to hide my disappointment as the fellowship came into view.

“If you are unhappy you don’t need to continue the journey,” Haldir said as he scanned my face.

“It’s not that. I just-“ I paused. “I enjoyed exploring here.” I respond honestly, “I wonder what my life would be like if I grew up in a place like this.”

He nodded silently, not taking his eyes off of mine. “I understand as much as I can.”

“Thank you for a wonderful day, Haldir,” I say as I give him a small smile. I reach my hand out but stop myself before I touch him, remembering his reaction last time. My ears reddened as I realized what I was doing. I quickly dropped my hand back to my side and scurried toward my companions.

As I met back with the fellowship Aragorn gave me a knowing look. “Boromir will be disappointed.” He whispers to me.

“What?” I ask as I stand above his sitting form.

“He fancies you, but your heart belongs to another.” He said smirking up at me.

I scoff, trying to play off his words, but my face betrays me as it heats up from embarrassment.

The rest of the day was relatively quiet as we readied for the night festivities. We were told there would be wine and dancing. I smiled as I thought about how much Gandalf would have enjoyed participating in such a party.

“All they need is some Old Toby,” Frodo said. “That was his favorite.”

At his words, I felt a tug at my heart. Another loss. Is this what I was doomed to experience? Thorin, Gandalf, who was next? This quest was bound to take more lives. Likely my own as well. I tried not to allow my feelings to ruin the night for me. The festivities were beautiful. Lights were strung through the sparking trees and candles were lit around the space. The elves looked beautiful in their beaded gowns and dress shirts.

“You are not dancing?” Boromir asks as he walks up next to me. He wanted me to dance with him. For a second I thought about it, but then I remembered Aragorn’s teasing words.

“Not in the dancing mood,” I respond, giving him a sheepish smile as I grasp harder at my wine chalice.

“Of course. I am sorry for your loss,” Boromir says putting a hand on my shoulder. “I understand you were close.”

I hummed in agreement as I kept my eyes trained forward, afraid that if I acknowledged his words I would cry. As my eyes scanned the room I came across one particular elf. Haldir. He was standing guard to the occasion, restlessly pacing along the outside of the crowd.

“Excuse me,” I say quickly to Boromir before wading through the partygoers to get more wine. My hands shake as I try to fill my chalice without spilling. While Boromir’s words were not ill-willed, they still affected me deeply.

My eyes wander back to Haldir’s anxious form. Surely no danger was posed here but there he was. He was a serious elf, anyone could tell that. I smiled to myself as I watched him reprimand another guard for drinking. I gathered enough courage to head his way. I wished to speak to him. I always wished to speak to him. His eyes met mine as he watched me climb the steps to reach him.

“It’s a party you know,” I say teasingly once I was planted in front of him.

He smiles slightly as he looks down at me. “Then why are you here?” He asks.

“I’m not really in a celebratory mood,” I admit.

The smile fades from his face as he takes in my words.

“Could I head back to camp? Or do I need an escort for that?” I ask. I had hoped he would offer to escort me, but my wishes would go unfulfilled.

“You may find your way back on your own,” Haldir responds. While his answer was disappointing, the tone of his voice was not. It was as soft as freshly fallen snow like he thought if he spoke too strongly I would break.

“Thank you,” I say graciously as I give him a small bow before taking my leave.

I take my time as I make my way back to camp with my wine glass in hand. There was no rush to return. Truthfully I just wanted to be away from the happy faces. Would they even know I left?

“Elowen.” Boromir’s voice woke me from my trance.

“Why are you here?” I ask him with a disoriented look on my face.

“I am worried about you.” He responds as he takes a step towards me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I care about you.” He says quietly as he moves his hand from his shoulder to my cheek.

In that moment I realized there is only one soul I wish to touch me in such a way. I pulled away abruptly at his touch. “My heart belongs to another,” I say in a panicked tone as I look around to see if anyone was around. “I am sorry.” I blurt out before dropping my chalice and running quickly down the path. I was no longer heading towards camp, afraid I would encounter Boromir there. I did care about him just not in the way he wanted. However, I was not only running from him but from the realization of my feelings for Haldir.

In my dazed state I quickly got turned around. The panic inside me grew as I realized I didn’t recognize my surroundings. “Did Haldir bring me here?” I questioned myself as I tried to remember earlier that day with no luck. Eventually, I gave up and sat on the ground next to the path. Letting the tears of my pent-up emotions rain down my face. Gandalf, Boromir, Haldir, it was all too much. I knew eventually someone would find me and help me get back to camp, but for now, I was grateful to be alone so I could cry without prying eyes.

Hours passed before I saw another soul along the pass. A startled she-elf stared down at me, clearly unsure what to do.

“I apologize,” I said with a scratchy voice. “I am horribly lost.”

The elf just stared back at me a bewildered expression causing me to sigh. She did not know the common tongue. I slowly got up from the ground and walked passed her. I thought I was heading in the direction I came from, but truthfully I had no idea where I was.

“Elowen.” I heard a melodic voice in my head. “You needn’t strife.”

Galadriel.

“I am lost,” I say quietly, unsure if she could hear me.

“But that is not why you cry.” She responded knowingly. “You will not be alone forever.”

I started rubbing my eyes, cursing my emotional state as I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up from my hands, expecting Galadriel, but instead came face-to-face with Haldir’s concerned expression.

“Oh,” I sniffle.

He said nothing, instead opting to reach out and gently grab my hand. My eyes widened, shocked by his touch as he started to guide me. He remained silent as we wove along the trail, never letting go of my hand.

“How did you know where I was?” I asked quietly as we entered the camp.

He turned to look at me, quiet for a moment before responding “Lady Galadriel.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. My exhaustion was written across my face.

“Rest now,” Haldir utters as he places a small kiss on my forehead. Before I could even process what he had done he was gone. I stood in place as the feeling of his lips lingered on my skin.

After some time had passed, we finally had to leave Lothlórien. We were all dreading it. We had spent weeks in the comfortable presence of elves, and in those weeks I never saw Haldir again. Galadriel, as kind as she was, would not let us leave without making sure we had everything we needed to succeed. Food, water, and supplies filled our small packs as we changed back into our old clothing. Once we were ready we made our way to the riverbank to say our final farewells and be off on our treacherous journey.

We stood in a line as Lord Celeborn spoke. "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people." I tried to listen to him speak pretending to not be distracted by Haldir's fingers securing a cloak around my shoulders. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes." He continued as I kept my eyes down, avoiding Haldir’s. “Of course he had to be here.” I thought to myself as embarrassment took me.

While we packed up our boats Aragorn was pulled aside by Lord Celeborn. While we waited for his return I chose to focus on making sure the halflings had everything they needed.

"He's looking at you," Sam said to me as I straightened his pack.

"I know," I sighed before looking back to meet Haldir's eyes. I was surprised to see an almost pleading look on his face.

"Well, aren't you gonna say goodbye?" Sam asked.

I hummed quietly as I mulled over my options, as much as I was heartbroken by the lack of his presence, the look on Haldir’s face made it impossible to stay away. I stood up as Sam grinned at me. "Meddling hobbits,” I said, feigning annoyance before walking over to Haldir.

"Thank you for your kindness, Haldir," I said quietly as I stood in front of him.

"I-" He started before stopping himself. "Be safe." He finally said.

I looked up to meet his eyes, they mirrored the sadness in my own. "Do not fret,” I say as I lay my hand softly on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. He had avoided me for weeks, but all my annoyance had been washed away by the forlorn expression he sported. I had come to expect the downfall of our quest now that we were without Gandalf, but I tried to comfort him nonetheless.

Before he could respond I heard Boromir call out, "El! The Lady Galadriel wishes to see us once more before we head on."

I step back as reality comes back into focus, giving Haldir a sad smile and a small bow before I head towards Boromir and the rest of my companions.

We waited turns to see the Lady of Light, each fellowship member coming back with gifts to help on the rest of the journey. "And to you, Elowen, I give you the gift of remembrance," Galadriel explains as she hands me a small coin. "This is a gift given to our marchwardens when they have completed their training. Let it help you remember what you are fighting for, and what awaits for you when your quest is done."

Haldir. Does she know something I do not? "Thank you, Lady Galadriel," I mumble as I bow my head.

Once the entire fellowship had received their gifts we piled into our small boats in silence, our heads swirling with the words Galadriel had spoken to each of us. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel waited at the shore as we left the magical forest behind us, but the rest of the elves had disappeared. There was a sad tug at my heart as I peered into the forest looking for any sign of Haldir.

I wished to see him one last time.

#haldir x oc #haldir x elf!reader #haldir x reader #lotr #lotr fanfic #marchwarden haldir

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hbyrde36 · 2 months ago

Text

It's Only Forever

R: Mature | WC: 5203 | | Ch 7/8 | Read on AO3

[Penny Art - Eddie's Introduction] [Penny Art - The Ball]

[SissayeRys Art Link]

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6

Chapter 7: Thirteen O'Clock

Steve woke with a sudden, violent jolt.

Heart pounding, his eyes snapped open wide, taking in the details of his bedroom ceiling through bleary eyes as he tried to shake off the sensation of falling.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It happens to everyone, and Steve more than most with his lifelong fear of heights—that moment when you’re just dozing off and out of nowhere your whole body jerks and you feel like you’ve plummeted off a ten story building to land hard on the pavement below.

Tick, tock.

Huh.

Steve raised his arm, pulling back the sleeve of his wash-worn yellow sweatshirt to tap at the watch on his wrist. Had it always been so loud?

He sat up, feeling groggy and a little confused, swinging his legs—with sneakers still laced to his feet and everything—over the side of the bed, no memory of deciding to take a nap. He must have come back upstairs at some point and laid down, tired from practice and having yet another fight with Dustin, and accidentally fallen asleep.

Which meant that all of the hazy recollections and insane shit that was swirling around in his head like a goddamn tornado had just been a dream. That was… a relief, he supposed, and it made more sense than the alternative. Goblins weren’t real, neither were magical ever-changing labyrinths or half-dwarves, talking worms or friendly hairy giants with surfer-boy accents, and certainly not Goblin Kings. No matter how attractive they were.

Even if he could still feel the ghost of Eddie’s lips on his own.

Steve shook his head, trying to clear away the feeling and the lingering fog. He should probably go check on Dustin, see if their pizza ever arrived and make sure the kid ate. He’d been a bit too harsh on the little guy earlier, if he was honest. It really wouldn’t kill him to be a better big brother and just play the stupid nerd game every once in a while.

Crossing to the door, Steve yanked it open, but instead of being faced with the upstairs hallway of his childhood home, he was knocked back by a tsunami of miscellaneous junk and garbage pouring in through the opening.

It reminded him instantly of when Robin made that door to get them out of the oubliette, accidentally finding a broom closet before finding the way out.

Suddenly everything came back into sharp focus. The stark reality of what he’d been through, no longer fuzzy at all.

What the—

Robin.

The peach.

It must have done something to him. He couldn’t believe it—it wasn’t a dream, it was all wonderfully—terribly real.

And as usual, he was running out of time.

He didn't quite know what to think about the ball, and everything that had happened between him and Eddie while his memories had taken a holiday. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to escape that place, but there was no time to dwell on it now. He had to find a way out of this tomb of trash and get back on course.

“Steeeeeeevieeeeeee!”

The sound of his name being called by a familiar voice from somewhere up above made its way through the garbage heap, thanks to a small gap between an old tire, and what might have been an antique tiffany lamp, where Steve could just barely see a little daylight.

“Down here!” He called back, beginning to claw through the debris when a pair of arms forced their way through. Argyle’s huge hands wrapped themselves around his waist, lifting him carefully out.

When Steve was finally free, the gentle giant crushed him to his chest, while a whining Jonathan clung to his leg, embracing his calf as though he were hugging him around the middle all the same.

“How’d you get down there? We've been looking for you everywhere, brochacho!”

“Look, Steve. We’ve almost made it!” Jonathan said, tugging on Steve’s pant leg as he swiveled around to point at a spot behind them. “Those are the gates to the Goblin City!”

Steve turned, staring in disbelief—they were standing on top of a pile of forgotten trash at the edge of what looked like a massive junkyard. But following Jonathan's line of sight, he found that it was true. Not a hundred yards away stood a small city, surrounded by smooth stone walls.

“Robin?” Steve asked quietly, glancing from one friend’s face to the other.

Argyle and Jonathan both shook their heads sadly, wearing matching looks of sympathy. They may not have known exactly what happened, but they’d clearly figured out she had something to do with it.

Steve nodded, mostly to himself, and pushed ahead to lead the way, not sure what else to say about it.

Yes, she’d betrayed him—again—but he couldn’t help caring about her now. Besides, this was Eddie’s doing, not hers. She’d only done what she was ordered to do, he was sure of it.

“Let’s go, quickly,” Steve called back over his shoulder. “We don’t have much time.”

The gates were made from a pair of heavy wooden doors with thick iron rings for handles, set into a wide stone archway. A comically oversized iron crown with six curved prongs sat on its peak, the only decoration.

A single guard who had fallen asleep at his post seemed to be all that stood between Steve and his companions, and the city beyond.

It all felt a little too easy as Argyle forced the big doors open, their movement all but silent on well oiled hinges, and the three of them snuck inside.

Steve should have known the other shoe was about to drop.

Almost as soon as the first set of gates closed behind them, another even bigger set—the real gates to the city, he assumed—made of shiny and oddly bulbous metal, slammed closed in front of them, cutting them off before they could pass through the city limits. As the two halves came together, the reason for their strange appearance became clear—to create the visage of a massive goblin warrior wielding an equally huge axe.

“Who goes there?” A distorted and slightly robotic sounding voice boomed through the enclosed space.

If all of that weren’t ominous enough, then the enormous warrior began to move, freeing itself from its slot in the doors and raising its weapon.

Steve gulped.

Any hope, however pathetic, that what he and Eddie shared at the ball had been real was officially squashed. If Eddie had felt even a fraction of what Steve had—did—he wouldn’t still be fighting to keep him from his brother like this.

The great mechanical goblin stepped forward, bringing his axe down on them in a wide sweeping arc. Luckily, the creature… robot… thing… moved so slowly that it was easy enough to dodge its hits for now, but Steve knew they couldn't keep this up forever. They had to find a way past it.

Argyle must have sensed the urgency too, hauling Jonathan up onto his back before jumping high into the air to grab onto one of the metal goblin’s arms. Jonathan scampered up to Argyle’s shoulder, leaping the last few feet to latch on to the machine’s other arm.

While their tandem attack did manage to make the metal giant drop his axe, he was still able to quickly shake them off. They tumbled to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs, hair, and fur, thankfully with Jonathan landing on top of their two-creature pile, both of them unharmed.

Steve stood in front, shielding them as they recovered and stood, and raised his eyes back to their enemy to see its next move only to spot Robin crawling her way across the high city walls that flanked the inner gate, making her way towards them.

“Robin!” Steve cried out, but she didn’t look down.

She jumped, landing right on top of the metal goblin’s head, tearing it from the rest of the body and tossing it to the ground below with a hollow clang.

It truly was some kind of machine. Sitting inside its helmet of a head, now exposed to the light, was a much smaller goblin, a live one, operating what was essentially a moving suit of armor with knobs and levers.

Robin grabbed for the controls, managing to switch the thing off while the small goblin slapped at her repeatedly. His efforts were mostly ineffective given their difference in size, until she got a little too close to the edge of the machine.

She lost her balance, falling out of the small cockpit, but not before grabbing the little guy up by the scruff of his neck, determined to take him down with her.

When they hit the ground Steve rushed to Robin’s side, making sure she was okay before checking over the goblin. The small creature’s eyes shot open, and he screamed in terror when Steve reached for him, launching himself to his feet and fleeing in a blur.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. Eddie made me give you that peach,” Robin rushed out as Steve helped her to her feet. “But, that’s not an excuse. I knew it was wrong. I should have resisted, no matter what he threatened me with. It wasn’t worth losing your friendship. I won’t ask for your forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve it. I just had to come back and make sure—”

“I forgive you,” Steve cut her off, scooping her up into his arms and squeezing her tightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She collapsed in his hold, pressing her face into his chest. “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

“Those were some pretty sweet moves,” Argyle said, moving closer to pat Robin gently on the head.

Jonathan raced in circles around the three of them, his fluffy tail wagging with abandon. “Yeah! It’s good to have you back.”

Reluctantly, Steve eventually had to let her go so she could turn to their furry friends, smiling sheepishly.

“Thanks.” Robin blinked away tears that they all pretended not to see, before clearing her throat. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get Steve’s brother back!”

The four of them pushed through the second set of gates and into the city with their guards raised, ready for the next fight. They passed home after unusual home, small cottages mixed in with multilevel bungalows, all built on precarious angles with stone and brick, and all appearing as quiet and empty as the streets outside.

“Where is everyone?” Steve asked. Not really expecting an answer. His companions were all looking around too, as confused as he was.

“I don’t know.” Robin shook her head. “But I think if we cut up this alleyway it’ll take us to the main road through downtown, and lead us straight up to the castle.”

They walked single file, with Argyle insisting on taking the lead, down the narrow space between two of the larger buildings Steve had seen so far, only for the big guy to stop abruptly just before they could all spill out onto the next street.

“Hey, why’d we stop?” Robin called out from the rear.

“Uh… dudes?”

Steve turned sideways, plastering himself against the side of the building to squeeze around Argyle and see what the problem was.

Lining the street on either side were dozens, if not hundreds, of goblins of all shapes and sizes. From tiny infants in their mother’s arms, their pointed ears sticking out from beneath swaddling blankets, to withered gray-bearded goblins, hunched over as they leaned on walking sticks made from gnarled wood.

All eyes turned in his direction as Steve took a few careful steps out onto the road, swallowing hard as he took in the sheer size of the display, stretching all the way to the castle sitting on high at least a mile away in the distance.

Robin appeared at his side, whispering from the corner of her mouth. “What are they doing?”

Steve could feel Argyle and Jonathan move up to his back as he shook his head. “This is weird.”

It was like they were the stars of an eerily quiet parade. As the four of them walked up the middle of the main drag, none of the onlookers said a word or tried to stop them, they simply watched with open curiosity.

In no time they were at the base of the castle steps, and Steve braced himself, turning to face his friends.

“I guess this is it. Wish me luck.”

“What do you mean?” Robin asked, eyes narrowed.

“I’ll never be able to thank you all enough for getting me here, but I have to go the rest of the way alone.”

“But, why?” She asked.

“I think that’s just how it's done,” Steve said.

Jonathan tilted his head with a hum. “Oh, well if that’s how it’s done—”

“Screw that,”Robin snapped. “We’re coming with you.”

“Robin… it’ll be okay—I’ll be okay.”

She frowned, arms crossing over her chest. “Fine. I don’t like it, but fine. I’ll stay out here if that’s what you want, but I'm not leaving.”

“Me too!” Argyle agreed.

Jonathan barked. “Me three!”

Steve tipped his head at them all and turned to go.

“Hey, Steve?” Robin called out. “Should you need us—”

He looked back over his shoulder, smiling even though his throat was suddenly painfully tight.

“I’ll call.”

The castle halls, much like the streets below, were similarly lined with goblins. Though, these were dressed more like soldiers than the more common folk who’d stood watch on the way through the city.

One by one, as Steve passed, the guards pointed him on, using their spears as arrows to show him the way to the very heart of the castle.

Its center.

Which housed, not some showy throne room like Steve was expecting, but a breathtaking atrium with a wide open air ceiling.

The space was perfectly round, with arched entrances to the north, south, east, and west. A tranquil pond full of colorful fish sat in its middle, fed by a small waterfall, surrounded by lush green foliage and flowers in bloom that Steve had never seen before—that he wondered if they even existed in his world. The rest of the room was dotted with ornately carved benches and thick velvet cushions.

Steve was so distracted with taking it all in that he nearly missed it, his watch, falling suddenly silent as all of its hands came to rest on the thirteen with a final tick.

“No-no-no. I’m here!” He shouted to the empty room. “I did it. It might have taken me every single second you gave me but I did it. Now, give me my brother back!”

Steve heard the footsteps before he saw anyone.

Light and quick, the set of feet seemed to be racing towards him from the northern entrance. He rounded the pond, unsure whether to ready himself for some kind of face-off or what, when Dustin came charging through the doorway and flung himself right into Steve’s arms.

Tears sprung to his eyes as he clutched the younger boy to his chest, relief quickly overtaking the shock, hitting him like a tidal wave, so hard he might have fallen to his knees if Dustin hadn’t been holding him back just as tightly.

With a final squeeze Steve pulled back, searching his little brother over from head to toe. He looked… fine. Unharmed. Happy, even, gazing up at Steve with sparkling eyes and a wide gummy smile.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here! I missed you! I knew you could do it, I told them! I did! This is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to us! I can’t wait to hear all about your adventures. Did you make any friends? I bet you did, and I—”

“Wait a second,” Steve cut in. “Aren't you mad at me?”

“Are you kidding?! This place is like a dream come true! Magic is real! All those things I thought were made up actually exist! And I never would have known if it wasn’t for you!”

“But—”

Steve was interrupted by another set of footsteps headed their way, echoing through the same hall Dustin had just appeared out of. They both glanced up as the sound grew nearer and finally stopped, to see a figure standing in the shadows, hesitating in the doorway.

Dustin turned back to Steve, a smirk playing on his lips as he patted him on the arm. “I’ll let you two talk.”

“Wait—” Steve began, but before he could stop him, Dustin was already walking off with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where they were going.

Steve reeled.

He’d expected to find his little brother shaken and terrified, locked up in a tower or some creepy dungeon in the bowels of the castle, but Dustin seemed comfortable in its walls—beyond comfortable. The kid made it sound like he was having the time of his fucking life!

What the hell had been going on here while Steve was busy fighting his way through the labyrinth?

The figure in the shadows took a few tentative steps forward—into the atrium, and into the light.

He wore a pair of white vintage Reeboks and black jeans that looked like they’d seen better days, a little bit faded and ripped at the knees. His white t-shirt was emblazoned with a devil’s head logo Steve didn't recognize, partially obscured by a worn black leather jacket, and finally a denim vest, a little big through the shoulders, and covered in various pins and patches of old bands.

It was a far cry from his usual Goblin King regalia, but it suited him just as much, maybe more so. Even his hair was different, still curly and a little wild but much less voluminous and untamed, framing a freshly washed face, bare of its usual makeup.

“Eddie?”

Eddie dipped his head in a shallow nod. “I’m sorry about all the trouble down at the gates. You and your friends got there before I could get the word out to stand down.”

“W-what…” Steve trailed off, looking the other boy up and down several times. “What’s going on?”

“This is me. The real me. I couldn’t let you go without… I mean, If this is the last time we’re ever going to see each other, I wanted to meet you as myself.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It happened in the Spring, 1986,” Eddie began, biting nervously at his plush bottom lip.

“I’d just turned nineteen, and I was taken by the Goblin King, same as Dustin. Except no one was there to fight for me. My old man said good riddance. I’m sure he thought it was a happy accident, or an acid trip. He didn’t care where I'd been taken, or by who. If I was alive or dead. The king took pity on me. It turned out he was kind underneath all the–” Eddie gave a wry smile, gesturing down at himself as though he were still wearing the fancy linen, leather, and cape.

“He gave me rooms, free run of the castle, the labyrinth, and after a short time he asked if I would take his place. I didn’t know for a long time if I'd made the right decision or not. But now I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I wouldn’t change anything. It all led me here. Without that exact course of events I never would have seen you playing basketball that day.”

With a flourish of his hand Eddie produced one of his crystal balls, rolling it through his fingers with the usual practiced ease. The now familiar move was a little funny to see performed by someone in streetwear.

Eighties era metalhead streetwear at that.

“That’s another thing I need to come clean about,” Eddie went on. “I watched you. Before you ever wished Dustin away. I would sit on the throne and watch you out there living your life, and you were so—you are—so beautiful, Steve. I was an idiot, lying to myself about who I was, who I thought you were, how I felt about you. And I'll understand if you hate me for it. For spying on you, for kidnapping Dustin, or any of the other things I've done and let happen to you while you’ve been here. But you deserve to know the truth.”

Eddie stepped in close, reaching out to take one of Steve's hands into his.

Steve let it happen. He was frozen to the spot, trying to reconcile the Eddie who’d appeared in Dustin’s window, threatening to take him away forever, with the Eddie he’d met at the ball, so weak in the face of Steve’s flirting but also charming in his own right, and finally with the Eddie in front of him now, sweet, open, and a little scared.

“This is who I am. Some dumb kid from Indiana who stumbled into a life full of magic, and got in way over his head, all caught up in who he thought he was supposed to be, and who is desperately and completely in love with you.”

Love.

The word reverberated through Steve’s mind, and the part of him that had fallen for Eddie at the ball wanted to believe, but—

“I-it was real?” He asked.

Eddie nodded, raising Steve’s hand to his lips just like he had in the middle of the dance floor. “The ball was a vision but everything else, what I said, what we did, everything I felt, and what I hope you felt too—that was all very real.”

With a soft kiss Eddie released his hand, reaching inside his own shirt to free his necklace, the same one Steve had seen him wear every time they’d crossed paths, and pulled it up over his head.

For a moment Eddie was still, the pendant sitting heavy in his palm, and Steve could finally see what the symbol on it was meant to be. A swirling infinity, carved right into the gold.

Then, without another word, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers closing tightly around the amulet. He screwed his face up in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips, as his fist began to glow with a mystical light.

As quickly as it had come the light faded, and there in Eddie’s palm, strung on the same length of leather cord, was no longer the pendant, but two polished rings.

One silver, one gold.

“I know this is fast, and more than a little insane. And I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave this place and never look back, but I could not live with myself if I didn’t at least ask you to stay. Live here with me, and share my power.”

Steve hesitated, his head swimming. “W-what about Dustin?”

“He’s free to do as he wishes. He can stay, or he can go.”

“Really?”

“I’m already breaking all the rules for you, sweetheart. And nothing bad has happened so far, so what’s one more? Whatever you decide, we’ll find a way.”

“We?”

A flash of strawberry blonde hair caught Steve’s attention out of the corner of his eye. A girl, who looked to be about his age, bounded into the atrium, her pale pink dress flowing out behind her.

She skidded to a stop right in front of him, cooing as she reached up to pinch his cheek.

“You’re even more adorable in person!”

“Chris,” Eddie whined.

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, not sorry.”

Eddie threw Steve an apologetic look. “This is Chrissy, she’s my best friend and right hand—everything. She practically lives in the castle library. I wouldn’t know how to do half of what I can do without her.”

Chrissy beamed, winking up at Steve. “There has to be a way for Eddie to control travel to and from the Labyrinth, I just have to find it.”

“I can help with that,” a voice called out from the west archway, the same side Steve had come through when he first arrived.

Robin.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked as she made her way to his side.

“I got worried, so I followed you.”

And maybe he should have been annoyed that she didn’t do as he asked, but Steve was too happy to see her familiar face while he was so far out of his depth to care.

“Have you been eavesdropping this whole time?” He asked warily.

“Maybe,” she admitted, elbowing him sharply in the side. “Why didn’t you tell me about this ball?”

“There wasn’t exactly time,” he hissed, “a-and I didn’t know…”

“Hi there!” Chrissy’s sudden and very bright, bubbly voice was too loud in the open space as she sidled up to Robin.

“H-hi,” Robin stuttered out, her face instantly going redder than a ripe tomato.

That was… interesting.

“You said you could help?” Chrissy asked.

Robin only nodded dumbly, lips parted.

Chrissy giggled, trying to hide it behind her hand. “Can you read goblin?”

Robin swallowed audibly. “Y-yeah, I’m good with languages.”

“Great!” Chrissy took Robin by the arm, winding it through her own and immediately began to lead her away. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Robin looked back at Steve wide-eyed, mouthing silently, “oh my god, she’s so hot!”

Steve gave her a little finger wave, glancing over at Eddie who seemed equally amused, both of them stifling a snicker as they watched the two girls go.

“So, what do you say?” Eddie asked when they were alone again.

“Can I have a little time?”

“Of course. Take as much time as you need.” Eddie carefully pulled the necklace back over his head, the two rings tinkling lightly as they fell together against his chest.

Steve couldn’t help staring at the twin pieces of jewelry, the shining promise of a new life, if he decided to take it. “It’s a lot to think about.”

Eddie shrugged, his mouth curling into a crooked smile as he raised a hand to gently cup Steve’s cheek.

“It’s only forever.”

Steve took a long walk around the grounds to clear his head, eventually finding Dustin sitting in the back garden, sprawled out on the lush grass, soaking in the last of the day’s fading sunlight.

He settled down on the ground next to the younger boy and gazed out at all the greenery and colorful trees. It was beautiful here, and now that he knew they were safe, that in reality he and Dustin had both been safe all along, being in this place no longer filled him with dread. Instead he felt a strong sense of inner peace. Like maybe, after a lifetime of pretending to be something he wasn’t, he’d finally found where he belonged.

“So…” Dustin prompted after a long moment of silence between them.

“Hmm?” Steve hummed absently, a little lost in his own head trying to figure out how to broach the topic of one or both of them uprooting their entire life for a fantasy world. No matter how he thought about wording it, it sounded completely nuts.

“What do you mean, hmm?” Dustin scoffed. “Did you take Eddie’s offer? Are you going to stay here with him?”

Steve snapped his head to the side, gaping at his brother. “You knew he was going to ask me?!”

Dustin nodded, chuckling a little to himself. “He came to talk to me a little while ago and said the deal was off. He wanted my permission, or blessing, or whatever to ask you to stay with him. I said no way in hell, of course. I mean, sure I've been having a good time playing with the goblins, and this place is really cool, but… I didn’t understand what changed. He said he’d fallen in love with you.”

“I still refused, told him that was his problem, but then he—” Dustin held out his palm, tongue between his teeth in mock concentration as he mimed the way Eddie rolled his crystal ball over his hand, “showed me the two of you at this masquerade ball.”

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, feeling his entire face flush.

Here he was worried about how he was going to explain falling for the boy who’d kidnapped his brother, and Eddie had already shown him more than he ever needed to see.

“What’s wrong with you—oh.” Dustin scrunched his nose up in disgust. “Eww! No, he didn’t show me any of that. But I did see you smiling and dancing together. And the way you were looking at him… Steve, I’ve never seen you look so happy. I told him I still didn’t think you’d go for it, but that he was welcome to ask.”

“I didn’t answer him yet,” Steve admitted, quietly.

Dustin grinned. “That’s not a no.”

“No, it’s not a no.” Steve couldn’t help returning his brother’s smile, though his own was a little more reserved. “But it’s not a yes either.”

“Do you want to say yes?”

Steve looked down with a shrug, tucking his knees into his chest. “What about you, Dusty?”

“Don’t worry about me. Just this once, don’t worry about what anyone else wants, or thinks you should do. What do you, Steve Harrington, want?”

“I want… him. I know it’s crazy but I think I fell in love with him too, and I—I like it here. There’s nothing for me back home. Mom and dad… I'm just a failure to them now, they won’t care if I'm gone.” Steve took a deep, steadying breath, raising his head to meet Dustin’s eye’s again. “I want to stay.”

“Good. I’m happy for you, big bro.”

“What about you?”

“Part of me wants to stay too. It would be so cool to live here with you and Eddie and the guys, but—”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “The guys?”

“Yeah! I made friends with these awesome goblins. They even let me give them names I could pronounce—Mike, Lucas, and Will! I've been teaching them all kinds of games. I think I could have them ready for D&D in no time if I stuck around. But… I have to go back. Mom and dad… I know they’re not always the best parents but we can’t both abandon them. And I'm only thirteen, I should really finish school. And obviously I can’t leave my Suzie-poo behind.”

“Suzie?” Steve asked.

“My girlfriend from summer camp? Seriously, Steve?! Do you ever listen when I tell you things?”

“I didn’t know she was real!”

Dustin pretended to be offended for all of five seconds before the two of them dissolved into hysterical laughter, leaning on each other as the sky continued to darken.

“You gonna go back in there and tell him?” Dustin asked.

“Maybe I should let him sweat it for a little while, what do you think?”

“He deserves it, honestly.”

Steve pushed himself to his feet, offering his little brother a hand up.

“Does this mean we’ll never see each other again?” Dustin asked, his voice smaller and sadder than Steve had ever heard it.

“Oh, buddy,” Steve pulled the younger boy in for another bone-crushing hug. “I’d never let that happen. I promise.”

Chapter 8: Home At Last

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#steddie fanfic #labyrinth au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #it's only forever #steddiebang24 #steddie big bang

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artifeast · 5 months ago

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Cursed Dungeon Meshi AU, with a vague attempt at the manga's style. They are 17 inches shorter than their canon heights. Maintained the height differences though!

Telesphore is an elf of course, Colette is a half-foot/tallman, and Eisen is a gnome. WAY too many miscellaneous thoughts about this AU under the cut. There miight be worldbuilding spoilers if you haven't read the DunMesh manga and bonus material

Telesphore is an elf because, obviously

Eisen's a gnome because that gave me a decent height difference with Telesphore while still giving him strong magic capabilities. He might have a bit of dwarf in him, though

Colette's mother was a half-foot, and her father is a tall-man with a half-foot grandparent. Colette is still taller than the average considering her heritage (I did MATH about this. and jsyk the numbers worked beautifully). I wanted her to not be particularly innately magical, and also this would give her an appropriate height in comparison to Telesphore and Eisen. Like, the AU is already gonna be cursed with how Telsie has to get shrunken, but it'd be even worse if Colette was a tallman and 8 inches taller than him LMAO

Colette still has the Kingmaker in this AU, though I forgot to draw it. In this, it's an ancient elven magical artifact.

Colette's still 25, while Telesphore and Eisen are the same age (190). I made an age comparison chart for the Dungeon Meshi races a while back, taking into account both age of maturity and life expectancy, and according to it, 190 makes Telesphore the equivalent of about 29 and Eisen the equivalent of about 47.5, which is close enough. This AU loses the dynamic of Telesphore being alive for hundreds of years longer than Eisen, and in fact makes Eisen the older one of the two (aging-wise) from the very start, but eh, I think it still works. There's still lifespan angst since Eisen only has 50 years before he hits the average life expectancy for gnomes, while Telesphore has another 210 years. Also I think them remaining the same age, as opposed to canon, but still aging differently is kinda fun.

The Kingdom of Valor is somewhere in the middle of the Eastern Continent, landlocked like in canon. The population is primarily half-foots, but there are also a good deal of gnomes and dwarves, as expected from the region. More interestingly, there is a community of elves.

Within Valor is the Seltsamwald, a bizarre and massive surface-level dungeon in the form of a dangerous forest that stretches for miles, held in check by incredibly powerful ancient magic forming a barrier around it. The elves are investigating it and maintaining it. There is no immortality spell in the Seltsamwald. The lord of the dungeon has not been found, but doesn't appear to be particularly active; in fact, despite being clearly contained and rather active in terms of monsters, it retains many properties of a natural dungeon. Some have theorized that it actually is a natural dungeon that's spread too far, perhaps cultivated by a mage in ages past, that was then sealed closed when it grew too powerful. However, it's not sealed entirely shut, and is kept alive mostly by the elves investigating it. There is very limited non-elf foot traffic, with it mostly being criminals that sneak into its maze-like forest. The Seltsamwald has been kept stable like this for hundreds of years. More recently, a group of elves have formed a small town within the dungeon as a sort of research post, named Sorbus.

Also within Valor are at least two magic schools, located there due to the plentiful mana from the Seltsamwald. One is for gnomish magic, and one is for elven magic.

The Desrosiers were half-foots. Ariadne is a tallman that's managed to prolong her life using ancient magic. (Though even still, in this AU she probably murdered Eisen's parents when he was the equivalent of like... 37, rather than 18)

I've spent a LOT of time thinking about it and I've decided not to try to translate the revolution and the closed Kehrseite portal situation into this AU. It's much easier to say Telesphore not being able to go home is just… a personal issue, because he's a wanted criminal on the Northern Central Continent, LOL. And the revolution's just a huge mess... I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I excluded the Good Neighbors/elves from the proceedings, though. These fantasy medieval ages are allowed a little populist revolution

#the kingmaker histories #telesphore winterlich #colette geise #eisen iyer #my art #5am art once again oops #actually almost 7AM as i'm posting this #this is really really cursed. i shrunk my boys #telesphore couldn't NOT be an elf though. unfortunately #i've been a fan of dungeon meshi since 2019 :3c sadly never drew much fanart though #i'm really glad to see more people liking it nowadays with the anime releasing. though also it's scary #ik i'm speaking nonsense with my adaptation of the seltsamwald into the dunmesh universe but it was fun

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glorf1ndel · 1 year ago

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It’s time to answer an important question. Where in Middle Earth would you live? If not one of these options, let me know in the tags/reblogs!

#lotr #lord of the rings #silm #Silmarillion #the hobbit #Tolkien #Tolkien polls

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cilil · 7 months ago

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Nerdanel's origin

Finally getting around to talk about one of my favorite recent headcanons (I have @thecoolblackwaves to thank for motivating me), yet another one that started out as crack and then I fell in love with it.

Tldr: Nerdanel's mysterious absent mother is none other than Aulë.

Here's the idea. We know that Aulë was not only very excited about the arrival of Ilúvatar's Children (a detail about him that was already present in Lost Tales and is very cute), but also wanted children of his own, so much so that he went behind Eru's and Yavanna's backs to create his Dwarves. In the end he got to keep them too, but he had to "put them away" to awaken later and they also live in Middle-earth and not with him (at least not in life).

So when Mahtan and Aulë grew close and started to hang out a lot, they probably got drunk one night and Mahtan confided in Aulë, saying that he'd love to have a child, to which Aulë is like "me too, bestie" and they decide to just have one together. Between Aulë's Ainurin shapeshifting and his apparent ability to just construct fully biologically functional bodies in his backyard, they did just fine and baby Nerdanel was born (I have the cutest mental image of a little girl sitting on the broad shoulders of her big strong forge dads).

Now Aulë and Mahtan decided to keep this a secret, probably because some sort of Valar rules may or may not have been bent a little in the process. What Yavanna would think of this depends on how everyone's own headcanons regarding Ainurin marriages, but it may be a bit embarrassing for her that her husband keeps procreating with either himself or other people who are not her. Also they don't want little Nerdanel to grow up being regarded as a weird cryptid.

So Mahtan proceeded to raise Nerdanel, acting like he totally had a thing with some woman somewhere, and Aulë supported them to the best of his ability, which mostly means teaching them cool stuff.

Nerdanel grew up looking like a normal Elf (huge relief for poor Mahtan), the main indicator of her Valarin heritage being that she's quite strong (she definitely picked up Fëanor and threw him over her shoulder constantly), carrying her statues around on her own without breaking a sweat. Aulë and Mahtan taught her the basics of smith-craft, but since sculpting is her passion, she switched to that and Aulë showed her some cool tricks with that instead.

Inevitably, Nerdanel started asking questions and one day found out the truth about her "mother". She then made Aulë and Mahtan promise that they'd all keep it secret because she wanted to be known and liked for being Nerdanel, not for being some experiment of Aulë's. They agreed and have kept their word. She also never told Fëanor, at first because she didn't want him to become interested in her only for her connection to Aulë and in the years after because she didn't want to damage their relationship. Fëanor remains unaware to this day, though is still impressed by his wife's strength, particularly when it came to doing what she does on top of carrying his sons.

So yeah, that's the idea. Nerdanel also shares some of her core traits with Aulë, such as being free of mind, thirsty for knowledge and strong-willed, but also patient. You could even see parallels between her relationship with Fëanor and Aulë's relationship with Yavanna, as Fëanor and Yavanna both have quite a temper and need a spouse who can take that.

#headcanons #my headcanons #nerdanel #mahtan #aule #aulë #silmarillion

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chaussetteblanche · 4 months ago

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just like the wind - VIII

summary: the Fellowship is ambushed in Moria word count: 1'618 warnings: violence

The Fellowship follows Gandalf into a large open space. You cannot see anything beyond the wizard and wonder where you find yourself. You spot what looks like pieces of broken columns. The wizard raises his staff.

“Let us risk a little more light,” he speaks softly. As his orb of light becomes stronger, an immense stone hall full of tall pillars and arched ceilings are illuminated. Your lips part in surprise as you look around you.

“Behold the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf,” presents Gandalf. Gimli draws in a sharp breath.

“Now there’s an eye-opener and no mistake,” gasps Sam, bewildered. You can’t help but agree, despite all the chaos, the hall is magnificent. A newfound respect for Dwarf architecture and Dwarves in general awakes somewhere inside you. The Fellowship walks across the hall slowly. Through another doorway, Gimli spots a ray of sunlight. "Haugh!" he cries out as he runs into the chamber. "Gimli!" you whisper-shout, rushing after him. You suck in a pained breath when you see the contents of the large room, heart hammering inside your chest. The smell is overwhelming and you resist the urge to gag. Corpses upon corpses litter the ground. Weapons are strewn everywhere. Gimli freezes and kneels by a crypt in the middle of the room. A single stream of sunshine illuminates it. Gandalf walks forward and peers at the tomb's surface.

"No! No!" Gimli cries. He chokeson a sob. "No!" You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it, hoping to give him at least some sort of comfort. Gandalf's fingers trail across the writing on the tomb. Boromir places a hand on Gimli's other shoulder. You exchange a heavy look. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf reads, "He is dead then. It's as I feared." Gimli continues to wail helplessly. His cries break your heart. The wizard gives his staff and hat to Pippin, bends down, and takes a large and battered book from a corpse's hands. He opens it and clears the dirt from its pages. Gimli, still sobbing, starts singing softly: "Kilmin malur ni zaram kalil ra narag. Kheled-zâram… Balin tazlifi." You listen somberly to his lament before removing your hand from his shoulder and trudging over to Aragorn and Legolas. "We must move, we cannot linger!" Legolas presses. You both nod along to his words. "They have taken the bridge... and the second hall," Gandalf continues to read. Gimli abruptly stops sobbing and looks up to Gandalf blankly. "We have barred the gates… but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes." Pippin, still holding the wizard's hat and staff, backs away slowly. "Drums… drums… in the deep." He turns a smudged, bloodstained page. You glance around the room uncomfortably, as do the others. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark."

Your stomach feels as though it is turning itself inside out. You don't want to hear what the Dwarves had written any more. You walk to the door at the entrance of the room. Your ears ring slightly as you lean against a door, wary of the arrows stuck inside it. The smell of death is overwhelming. You feel like you can't breathe. Pippin stumbles back and sees a corpse with an arrow lodged in its chest, sitting by a stone well. He turns towards it. You glance at him over your shoulder but look away, trying to steady your breathing and get rid of the everlasting urge to throw up. "We cannot get out…" He glances at the last, single line, a scrawl fading out at the bottom of the page. Gandalf looks up in the heavy silence. "They are coming." The silence is broken by Pippin. Curious, the Hobbit reaches out and lightly twists the arrow in the corpse. The skull slips off, falling into the well with a resounding crash. Gandalf whips around, a furious look gracing his features. The rest of the Fellowship jumps at the loud sound. Pippin turns to face the wizard, looking guilty. As he does, the rest of the corpse slips into the well, dragging with it a chain and bucket. Crashes and bangs echo from hall to hall far below. Pippin winces at each wave of noise, as do you. You feel sick to your stomach.

Gandalf slams the book shut. "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" he booms. You frown at his words. He pulls his hat and staff from the Hobbit's hands roughly without sparing him a glance. "Hey, easy. It was an accident!" you defend the small Hobbit, ignoring the urge to retch. Gandalf grunts in response. You roll your eyes and walk over to Pippin. You ruffle his hair and give him a small grin: "Don't worry about it, it could have happened to anyone. And him," you whisper, pointing to the wizard, who had turned away, "he's just a bitter, old man." Pippin grins back at you, but it does not last.

Drums are heard booming. Your heart falls into your stomach and you feel the colour leaving your face. Gandalf slowly turns back around, Pippin following his movements, staring down into the well. More drums. Your heartbeat hammers inside your ears. "Frodo!" Sam cries. The Ring Bearer’s sword is glowing blue. "Orcs!" Legolas yells. Fear is evident in the Hobbits' features. Deciding this was not the time to vomit, you push the urge back down and take in a deep breath. You rush to the doors to have a look at what might be happening outside. An arrow flies right into the door, mere centimetres from your face. Your eyes widen slightly and you jerk your head back. Aragorn drops his torch and runs over to you. "Get back! You stay close to Gandalf!" he yells to the Hobbits. You start pushing a door shut with a grunt. Aragorn copies your actions, pushing the other door closed. A loud bellow is heard from the other side. You recognize the sound immediately. "They have a cave troll, how wonderful," you state sarcastically. Legolas picks up some weapons from the ground before throwing them to you and Aragorn. You barricade the door shut to the best of your ability. Normally, you would do anything but trap yourself in, but you had no other choice. You stand back and unsheathe your sword.

The Fellowship stands at the ready. Gandalf throws his hat to the side and pulls out his sword. He lets out a battle cry. The Hobbits brandish their short-swords. Sting glows blue in the dimly lit room. Gimli jumps on top of Balin's tomb and brandishes his axe. "Argh! Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" he hollers. You can’t help but admire his resilience. His words give you strength as you turn to the door. The creatures on the other side of the door start breaking it down. Weapons crash through splintering spaces. You stand back, the grip on your sword so tight your knuckles start turning white. Legolas stands poised, ready to shoot. When the first clear gap is broken through the door, Legolas shoots. A chilling cry rings out. The Elf nocks another arrow as Aragorn shoots.

When the creatures finally break through your final defense, the battle begins. You take in a shaky breath before charging forward. A wave of armour-clad Orcs runs forward, yelling out battle cries. Aragorn pulls out his bow. He and Legolas nail Orcs with their arrows while you and Boromir cut others with your swords. Gimli aims for the stomach. With a cry, Gandalf runs into the fray, the Hobbits following closely. You behead an Orc and black blood spews forth, splashing in every direction. The urge to vomit resurfaces as you spit out the disgusting blood. You wipe the sticky liquid off your lips and gag. Sam pauses in the midst of the battle, his eyes glued to something very tall. You follow his eyes and sigh. It’s huge.

The cave troll smashes through the doorway with a growl, heavy chains leading from his wrists to an Orc's hand. Legolas shoots it in the shoulder. The arrow looks ridiculously small against his immense body. The beast howls in pain and claps a large hand to the wound. Sam is frozen on the spot. Just as the troll swings his mace down at the Hobbit, you cry out his name and he dives under its legs and crawls away. The troll turns around spots him once more. You heart pounds as you realize that the Hobbit is cornered. In a moment of sudden braveness, you run behind the beast. You behead the Orc holding on to his chains and take ahold of them yourself. You start pulling it away from Sam with all your strength. But with one hand pulling the heavy metal and another fending off Orcs, you don't make much of a difference. You yell for Boromir and Aragorn to come and help you. They arrive just as the beast raises his arm to strike. The three of you pull with all of your strength and he falls over before he can hit Sam.

The frustrated cave troll turns around and spots the three of you. Boromir and Aragorn have the right reflex and let go of the chains. You do not. The monster throws his arm to the left and you are whipped you across the chamber. You land in the recess of the wall, black spots dangerously dotting your vision. The last thing you see before you blackout is an Orc, standing over you, ready to strike a fatal blow.

#legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #legolas x you #lotr #lord of the rings #legolas imagine #lotr imagine #legolas

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11queensupreme11 · 5 months ago

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Okay okay wait…I just got an idea…what if..gem Percy got summoned into Middle Earth by Gandalf?….Gandalf found a powerful summoning spell said that it summon the most powerful child of the gods to assist you..the god of Olympus knee about Gandalf summoning so who do they send..Percy..without her knowing about it of course…so Percy teleports in front of Gandalf all confused and Gandalf doesn’t believe she is a child of the gods so he takes her in to help her thinking the summoning didn’t work..she stays with Gandalf not telling him that she is a child of a god not wanting to be sent to war again..so she travels with him as he finds Thorin and gathers the company at the Shire…all of them don’t believe she is the child of the gods so Gandalf wants to stay out of the Quest and Percy would’ve overjoyed with not going in a quest but..where would she go?..:she only knows Gandalf in this strange world and he can be her only chance to be sent back to her home..so she is stubborn and Gandalf has no choice but to let her join the company…Thorin is reluctant to let her join cause he thinks she looks like and elf with her godly looks and her beautiful unique eyes…and if you have read the books or seen the movies everyone in the hobbit are pale skinned or light skinned..so they have never seen anyone like her before which does catches the company’s attention but not enough to make them believe she’s a child of the gods..

this post just brought back memories

it's been such a long time since i watched the lord of the rings movies (and i even read one of the books for school, but i hated it)!!!!!

also, percy would TOTALLY keep her demigod status a secret. mostly because she's not the type to go around telling ppl about it anyway, but if she knew that she was summoned BECAUSE they needed a demigod to help them? oh yeah she's definitely keeping that secret to the grave 😂😂

tbh, she probably wouldn't even go with them to the journey cuz she wants to relax (she was supposed to be in retirement after the war LMAO) but if she spends enough time with the crew THEN she would ask to join just to make sure they're okay

AND THE ELVES AJSBFJHFV she's gonna be so culture-shocked by them like "why are there so many white ppl here 🧍🏽‍♀️"

WAIT OMG

i just realized, aren't the crew all dwarves or something so they're probably somewhere around 5 feet right??? PERCY'S 5'10" ASS WOULD BE SO HAPPY CUZ SHE'D ACTUALLY BE SO TALL WITH THEM UNLIKE IN ROR WHERE SHE'S SHORT AF 😭😭😭

i googled the average height of elves, and she'd still be a lil short to them unfortunately (tho idk how accurate this is):

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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jinxpologist · 5 months ago

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just saw something in pinterest comments about how hobbits might have a hummingbird-like metabolism and i’m honestly really interested and fully believe that. it makes me wonder about the metabolism of other species in middle earth.

starting with hobbits, they have seven meals a day and are VERY small, which means all that energy has to go somewhere. in the lotr movies we see sam (i believe?) eat multiple pieces of lembas bread, an elven bread made to fill the stomach from one small bite, indicating that hobbits can eat a LOT of food and possibly require quite a lot. it's also unlikely that every daily meal for hobbits is a full meal. it seems to be more intermittent snacking than the huge plates we're used to. from this we can assume that hobbits function a bit like birds, eating often and more than expected for their size throughout the day, expending that energy with their movement (as small creatures tend to have faster heartbeats).

elves clearly have very slow metabolism but don’t move slow to compensate for it, most likely for magic reasons. from what i can tell, they also almost exclusively eat plant-based food. i think that elves don't seem to enjoy or care for eating except only as a practicality, hence the existence of lembas bread. i can only assume that elvish food is imbued with a sort of magic to help sustain those who eat it. i'm not sure if they have proper crops or if they simply have gardens.

dwarves i imagine require a lot of energy as well because of the huge amounts of energy they expend. based on the "dwarves are natural sprinters" line (which is hilarious, yes), i think we can assume that they're built for large amounts of energy intake and expelling that energy fairly quickly. it's indicated that their diet has a lot of high protein meat in it as well. this would make sense for a people that does heavy manual labor and lives in areas (caves) that wouldn't have much ability to grow crops.

obviously humans are, well, humans, and have human metabolism. there's not much to comment on there. not gonna worry about orcs and goblins because they're not really explored that much lmfao

also this was all made without referencing any official writing on metabolism, culture, or food for each species so. address accordingly

#op #this is literally me just yapping about middle earth

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middleearthpixie · 3 months ago

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The Ties That Bind ~ Chapter Six

Summary: Although Erebor is his once more, Thorin knows there is still a great threat to the peace of Middle Earth. Azog is gone, but another has taken his place and has sworn to finish what Azog began. Erebor is back, but it’s sadly lacking in protection and as much as he hates the thought of it, Thorin knows there is one thing that will guarantee the safety and continuation of his line.

War is coming and all Eirlys of Mirkwood wishes to do is fight alongside her brother Legolas and the other elves, united with Men and Dwarves in their attempt to quell the renewed tensions between them and the orc army of the north. But, her father, Thranduíl has other plans. Unite his kingdom with the newly reestablished kingdom of Erebor and use the power of both to defeat the orcs.

An arranged marriage that neither side wants, but both sides need. But what happens when the two sides realize that maybe—just maybe—being together isn't quite as bad as they'd thought...

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.2k

Read on AO3

The next morning dawned clear and cool, and Eirlys savored the tranquility of the woods. Orcs had been moving closer to the northern part of Mirkwood, but unlike her father, she didn't think they would ever breach the forest’s boundaries simply because of the spiders. They’d claimed the northernmost corner of the forest, not far from where she’d found Thorin, and she had the feeling that if she hadn’t found Thorin, the spiders would have. Again.

Even so, she still knew better than to venture anywhere in the forest without a weapon of some sort, so she brought both her bow and arrow and her dagger. Just to be safe.

Not that she ventured far. There was a stream that flowed through the center of the kingdom, enchanted in places, with the perfect fallen log nearby, where she preferred to sit and think when she had something serious to sit and think about.

Her upcoming wedding was definitely something serious.

So that was where she headed, her thoughts spinning with what awaited her in the weeks to come, and what would follow once she left Mirkwood, left the only home she’d ever known, to travel north to the kingdom of Erebor.

The arrangements were underway and she was supposed to be meeting with the seamstress to begin work on her wedding gown. Invitations had already gone out. The kitchens were working on the menus and someone—she had no inkling who—was in charge of the wine and liquor to be served.

But there she was, sitting in her tranquil space, pretending nothing was about to change.

Sunlight spilled through the canopy, melted most of the snow from the narrow, winding path. Birds sang overhead, their songs clear and crisp, and the occasional chipmunk darted across in front of her. She smiled at the sight of them, remembering when she was a child and spent much of her time alone, wandering the woods, just watching as the animals of that world went about their business. Little by little, they grew used to her, didn't dart off into the underbrush in fear.

She sank onto the fallen tree and leaned against the one that still stood behind it. As she watched the sunlight sparkle across the stream, she wondered if she would be able to find a stream somewhere near Erebor, somewhere she could just sit and think and not be bothered by anyone.

A tiny knot formed in the pit of her stomach when she thought about what life would be like in Erebor. And with each successive thought, that knot grew larger. Feeling apprehensive about this change had to be normal, didn't it? Would she be expected to not feel this way? After all, she’d never lived anywhere other than Mirkwood. To others, it was an enchanted—sometimes darkly so—wood, but to her? It was home. Here, she was just another elf. But in Erebor, she would be the outsider, the one to always be looked upon with suspicion, to be stared at. Especially given the history between the elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves of Erebor.

“Do you venture out here alone often?”

Eirlys jumped at the unexpected interruption and as she did, her hand went instinctively to the blade on her hip. She relaxed, her hand just resting on the sword’s grips. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a body that way. You might find yourself regretting it quickly.”

To her surprise, Thorin smiled. “I’ll take my chances.” He gestured to the fallen log. “May I?”

“Of course.”

He settled beside her. “It’s peaceful here. A far cry from the first time I ventured through these woods.”

“They can be tricky for a body not accustomed to the atmosphere.”

“That they are,” he bobbed his head, the silver ornaments woven into the long curls clinking against one another, flashing in the pale sunlight as he did. “The first time I was here, it took almost no time before I felt as if I was drunk. Drunk and disoriented and it wasn't at all pleasant. We wandered about, lost and growing angrier by the moment. It was… an adventure.”

“I remember hearing about it,” she smiled when he offered up a confused look, “from Tauriel. She and Legolas were both there when you were… well—” she winced—“captured."

“Oh,” he chuckled and nodded, “right. You would think I’d remember that. I went from staggering about in the woods to the dungeons of Mirkwood in the span of a few hours.”

His laugh was unexpectedly low and velvety, and her initial irritation at being bothered faded away. “I remember all too well. My father was quite satisfied with himself.”

“I’ll wager he was.”

“If it’s any consolation, he was impressed with how you stood up to him, even if it didn't work for you in the end. He respects strength.”

“Oh, that was respect, was it? It was difficult to tell at the time.”

“How did you manage to escape at all?” She looked over at him. “The dungeons are impermeable. Or so I’m told.”

“They are, except we had a hobbit who was good at being sneaky. I don’t know how he did it, but he swiped the keys and next thing we knew, we were in barrels, floating our way toward the Long Lake.”

“No wonder he was so furious. You not only got out of his dungeons, but snuck out of Mirkwood altogether?”

“Oh, yes. Master Baggins got your father’s guards drunk, lifted their keys, and we were on our way.”

Eirlys couldn't hold back her laugh. “Got them drunk? All of them?”

“I was locked away, remember, but yes, I believe it was all of them.”

“You’re joking with me, right?”

“I’m not, no.” He turned to her, his blue eyes actually dancing with mischief as he added, “We sailed down the river as if with wings. And if that wasn't enough, we were chased by orcs as well. It would have been exhilarating, were it not for the fact that we were being hunted.”

“Exhilarating?”

“Yes.” An emphatic nod accompanied his reply and his smile softened. “It was like flying, we sailed so fast. I’d never felt that free and I’ve yer to feel it again.”

A hint of a sigh accompanied his words and she nodded slowly. “I know that feeling. I used to have a horse, a mare called Willow, and there was nothing I loved as much as I did being in the saddle. The world was mine to explore and I did, from here to the Long Lake.”

“And your father allowed this?”

She nodded. “Oh, he encouraged it even. He knew I could defend myself if the need arose. I trained alongside Tauriel and Legolas, you know. And my mother—”

Her throat closed unexpectedly and the backs of her eyes stung mercilessly. She didn't often allow herself to think about her mother, telling herself she barely remembered her. But the truth was, thinking about her stung as much now it ever had. It never really went away, but until now, it never hurt as much.

“You don’t have to say any more if you’d rather not,” Thorin broke in softly.

“No,” she shook her head, “it’s all right. I simply need a minute.” She swallowed hard, and forced a smile as she said, “I miss her, is all.”

“Is she the reason you no longer ride?”

Eirlys nodded slowly, swiping at the tear that ran down her cheek. “I was out one day, on Willow and that’s when we realized orcs had finally ventured down to our borders. I had no idea they were there. Our scouts hadn’t seen them, otherwise neither my mother nor my father would have allowed me beyond the woods.

“But, they were there. I never saw them. Never heard them. An arrow whistled from nowhere and struck Willow through the eye. I sailed forward, over her head, and landed flat on my back. When I looked up, I was surrounded by them.”

She looked up and met Thorin’s sympathetic blue eyes. “My detail must have gone rushing back to get my father, for the next thing I knew, both my mother and father were there, running the orcs down, chasing them back to wherever it was they’d come from. I don’t know. I was whisked back here. I don’t even know where or if anyone took the time to bury Willow. I didn't know anything until my father returned. He was alone. She’d been killed up in Gundabad. They’d chased that bloody pack all the way back there.”

“I’m so sorry, Eirlys,” he said softly.

“I don't know what happened. Neither Legolas nor I do, really. All Papa would say was she’d died honorably, but we had no body to bury, no funeral. Just… nothing.” She pressed her lips together to try to keep them from quivering, to no avail. “I lost my horse, my mother, and my freedom, all in one fell swoop. Now, here is as far as I usually venture and I am terrified of what awaits me beyond these borders.”

“You have nothing to fear from me,” he told her, his voice low and growly. Her heart skipped a beat when his hand came up and his fingers curved gently against her cheek. “And you have nothing to fear from orcs, for I will not allow them within a league of you. I give you my word.”

“I’ve never been far from Mirkwood, you know. And—”

“You will be free to return whenever you wish. Eirlys, I’ve no intention of making you a prisoner in Erebor, you know.”

“I didn't think you would.” Her eyelids grew heavy as his thumb gently swept along her cheek. Her instinct was to lean into his touch, to let her eyes close and simply let the heat from his hand sink into her skin.

But she couldn't do that, and so she drew back. “Tell me about your family. Who awaits your return?”

He lowered his hand. “My sister Dís, and her sons. Fíli is the oldest and you’ve seen Kíli, as he’s the one Tauriel married. And I’m loosely related to most of the dwarves of Erebor, but it’s mostly distant.”

“No mother or father?”

“No. My mother died when I was very young and my father was killed in battle at Khazad-dûm. It seems you and I have that in common—family killed by Gundabad orcs.”

“It’s a terrible common ground to have.”

“It is,” he nodded slowly, “And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, to be honest. But, it is what it is.”

“True. It is pointless to dwell. So instead, I come here and I think.”

“And what do you think about?”

“Right now? This wedding. Moving to live under a mountain. Wondering what it’s like there. That sort of thing.”

He smiled as he rose and held out a hand. “Come and walk with me and I will tell you what to expect.”

She laid her hand in his, allowing him to draw her up. They were nearly eye to eye, and as she stood, she caught a hint of leather and snow. His fingers tightened about hers and as she met his gaze, she leaned in and without thinking, brushed his lips with hers.

Eirlys had no idea what possessed her to do such a thing and jerked back in horror. “I beg your pardon, Thorin,” she blurted, staring at him. “I didn't mean—that is, I don’t know why I did that.”

A hint of color rose along his cheekbones, but he smiled and subtly shook his head. “Please, there is no need to apologize.”

“Of course there is.” She stepped back as an embarrassed heat swept through her. She couldn’t believe she’d acted so impulsively. What was she thinking, being so… so forward… with him? He was a virtual stranger to her and yet she couldn't help herself. “Thorin, I—”

“Princess Eirlys?”

She spun about to see Arel, her guard, heading their way. “What is it?”

“Your father sent me.” He spoke in Silvan, the language of her people. “Miss Rania said you did not show up for your appointment. He was concerned, is all.”

“I needed a bit of fresh air,” she replied in kind, but then switched to Common Speech as she scowled at him. “And it’s rude to speak that way in front of His Majesty.”

Arel didn't look at all remorseful as he said, “He wishes to see you, Princess.”

“Of course.”

Arel turned to go back the way he came and as he disappeared around a bend in the trail, Eirlys met Thorin’s gaze. “I apologize for his rudeness.”

“Worry not,” he told her, then offered his arm, “I expect no less from some of your kin. But I should hate to have Thrandy annoyed as well, so I’ll see you back.”

“Thrandy?”

Thorin’s grin widened. “It suits him, don’t you think?”

“Actually, yes.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and without thinking, hugged his thick arm as they made their way back toward the palace. She hadn’t expected her morning to go this way, and for the first time since learning Thorin of Erebor was to be her husband, she wasn't really dreading the coming days.

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If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

#Richard Armitage #AU #The Hobbit #Thorin Fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Is it hot in here?#Hobbit Fic #Romance #Hobbit Fanfic #Thorin x OC #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

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