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warriorofthought · 13 days ago

Text

The Pendant

Summary: A Pendant holds memories, but can it bring back your happiness?

Word count: 6461

Warnings: Sentimental but practically no one

Adar x Female Elf Reader

Inside the dimly lit tent, Elrond sat tense yet composed, his gaze fixed on the unsettlingly calm Adar. The distant crackle of fires and orcish murmurs filled the night outside, but his thoughts were solely on Galadriel, held captive nearby, as you and two elven guards stood watch behind him.

“You must release her,” Elrond demanded, his voice low but edged with urgency. “This fight is between us. She has no part in it.”

Adar’s lips curled into a bitter smile, his scarred face barely illuminated by the firelight. “No part? She is woven into the very fabric of this world's decay, just like you, Herald. Her light dims as the shadow rises.”

Elrond stepped forward, eyes hardening with resolve. “You may have twisted your own kind, poisoned them with your hatred, but you will not break her spirit.”

Adar stood slowly, leaning closer, his voice a dark whisper. “Spirit does not survive the darkness, Elf. It withers, like everything else.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, but Elrond remained a pillar of strength. “Not her. You underestimate what endures in the light.”

Adar’s eyes narrowed, his smile fading as silence filled the space between them. “Give me the Ring and we can finish Sauron.”

“It would be a foolish act to bring it here,” Elrond replied, his voice serious.

“You are a couturier. More suited to wielding a scroll than a sword,” Adar mocked.

“You’ve never seen me wield either,” Elrond countered.

Your eyes watch both discuss and then Your eyes flicker to your dear friend Galadriel.

Your form is mostly hidden under the cloak.

When she spoke, Adar immediately ordered, “If she speaks again, cut her tongue.”

You and the guards stiffened, hands instinctively moving to your sword handles, a strand of your hair slips from the cloak.

He lets his eyes move back to Elrond.

Elrond watched you intently, silently communicating a warning to keep your composure. His gaze flitted back to Adar, his expression stern and tense, his hands clenching into fists.

Adar leaned on a pole, eyes flickering to you, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “She’s quiet,” he drawled. “A rare quality in these lands.”

Elrond tensed further, anger flickering across his face. “Leave her out of this, Adar.”

Adar's eyes flicker back to Galadriel.

Under the intense gaze of Adar, Galadriel's eyes met his, a storm of defiance and anger burning within them. Adar let out a small chuckle, seemingly satisfied with the reaction.

As Adar walks, a pendant slips out from beneath his clothes, catching your eye.

The pendant, an unusual piece of jewelry, had your curiosity piqued. Adar had turned his attention back to Elrond, seemingly unaware of the item that had slipped out.

“That pendant…. who gave it to you?” The question lands with a weight that leaves little room for an answer.

The Pendant displays a trio of purple, blue, and green stones, seamlessly arranged and etched with intricate elven runes, exuding an air of mystical elegance.

The moment your voice cut through the tense air, Adar's eyes flickered towards you, his face hardening as he became aware of your attention on the pendant. He quickly shoved it back into his clothes, but the damage was done.

"It is none of your concern," he responded gruffly, his fingers still lingering on his chest, where the pendant was hidden.

"It's a rare elven Pendant and clearly doesn't belong to an Orc. From whom did you took that." You snarl.

It looks like the one you have made centuries ago. Could it be your's?

A brief flash of surprise crossed Adar's face as your words hit their mark. He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tensing as he contemplated how to respond.

"It was a... gift," he finally replied, his voice low and guarded. "From an old friend.”

You scoff, about to step forward, but Elrond’s hand catches your arm, grounding you. “Remember, we’re here for Galadriel,” he murmurs, steadying your resolve. With a quiet sigh, you hold back, though the curiosity in your gaze remains sharp.

Adar watched the interplay between you and Elrond, his expression guarded.

"Enough," Elrond said, his voice firm. "We're here to discuss the terms of Galadriel's release. Nothing else.”

Adar's eyes flicked between you and Elrond, his gaze lingering on you both. He took a few steps closer, studying the two of you.

"And what makes you think I'd let my prisoner go so easily?" he said, a hint of challenge in his voice.

Adar continued "You don't have the ring I want. I see no reason to give Galadriel back to you.”

Elrond took a moment to process Adar’s words, his expression hardening with resolve.

"We cannot give you the Ring," he said firmly. "It is not an object to be used for trades and exchanges.”

Adar let out a bitter laugh at that comment.

"Ah, the honorable Elf. Always righteous, even in defeat," he taunted. "But you forget, this War isn't about honor. It's about survival.”

“If you have no intention of setting her free, then grant them a moment for a proper farewell,” you state.

Adar paused his gaze flickering between you and Elrond, weighing your words. After a long moment, he waved a hand dismissively.

"Very well," he said grudgingly. "Let them say their goodbyes.”

———————————————————

You and Elrond exited the shadowy tent, the cool night air a welcome relief from the suffocating atmosphere within.

His face was drawn with concern, eyes cast downward as you walked silently beside him.

With the guards, you made your way away from the Orc camp.

Soon after, you settled into a tent at the elven camp, where Elrond soon walked in.

You sat quietly in the simple elven tent, the silence broken only by the rustle of fabric and the quiet breathing of the guards stationed outside.

As Elrond entered the tent, his usually composed face now lined with tension and worry. He sat down across from you, his eyes meeting yours, a wealth of unspoken thoughts reflected in them.

Elrond glanced at you, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes as he realized you had momentarily lost sight of Galadriel’s plight, distracted by the pendant Adar wore.

His gaze searched yours, revealing his concern. He knew you well enough to notice how your attention had shifted, captivated by the pendant instead of focusing on Galadriel's fate.

"You focused more on the pendant than Galadriel," he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of frustration.

“Galadriel is safe. You gave her the key along with your farewell kiss, so she’ll be here shortly.”

Elrond let out a surprised huff at your comment, his frustration replaced by a touch of amusement. "You're more confident in my tactics than I am," he replied, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

You slightly chuckle. "You are smart, Elrond. You should have more thrust in yourself.”

Elrond's smirk softened at your words, a hint of warmth in his eyes. "Coming from you, that's quite the compliment," he said, the teasing tone back in his voice. "You've always believed in my abilities more than I have myself.”

The atmosphere between you and Elrond shifted slightly, the tension from earlier melting away in the quiet tent. Elrond leaned back, his gaze softening further as he looked at you.

"Speaking of sharp minds," he said with a touch of wry humor. "You're awfully interested in that pendant.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” you reply.

Elrond raised an eyebrow at your denial, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't play coy," he replied, his tone a tad playful. "I saw the look on your face when you first saw that pendant.”

"It's like it held some secret, some hidden meaning," he continued, watching your expression closely. "Why were you so intrigued by an orcish pendant, anyway?”

"That’s an Elven Pendant," you nearly spat.

Elrond's eyes widened slightly at your sudden vehemence. He leaned forward, the previous lightheartedness gone from his expression.

"How can you tell?" he asked, an edge in his voice. "And why does it anger you so much?”

"You can't dismiss it as a filthy orc pendant when it's clearly elven," you retort.

Elrond's surprise at your reaction to the pendant slowly morphed into understanding.

"But why does it bother you so much?" he asked, more gently this time. "It's just a piece of metal and jewels. Why does it matter so much to you?”

“It’s more than just a chunk of metal or jewelry. I created it,” you say, a hint of pain in your voice at being reduced to something so simple.

Elrond's eyes went wide with shock, his composure slipping for a brief second, before it returned.

"You made it?" he echoed, disbelief and realization dawning on his face. "You made that pendant?”

"Tell me, are you slow on the uptake or what? I said I did make it, what's so difficult to understand about that?”

Elrond shot you a glare at the blunt jab to his intelligence, but he took a deep breath, collecting himself before replying.

"No, I'm not slow," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I just can't believe that you, of all people..." he trailed off, his mind still sorting through the implications of your revelation.

"What? Make jewelry. That was centuries ago.”

"I know it was centuries ago," Elrond said, his voice growing more heated. "But you never told me you made jewelry before, and now you're suddenly upset that someone is wearing something you made?"

He stood up, beginning to pace the small space of the tent, his frustration growing with every step.

“Because I gave it to my husband,” you say, frustration creeping into your voice, unaware that you've just revealed something you had intended to keep hidden. The weight of your words lingers in the air, shifting the atmosphere between you.

Elrond's pacing came to an abrupt halt, your words freezing him on the spot.

"Your husband?" he repeated, his voice a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "You were married?"

He turned to look at you, his gaze intense and searching.

“I... What?” you breathe out, struggling to process your own words. A mix of surprise and confusion washes over you, leaving you momentarily speechless.

Elrond stared at you, his mind swirling with questions and realizations.

"You were married," he repeated, a note of incredulity in his voice. "You, the fierce warrior who has been by my side through countless battles and dangers, you never thought to mention having a husband in all that time?”

Your stunned silence confirmed his suspicion. Elrond let out a long breath, his expression shifting from disbelief to something more resembling hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice quiet but filled with a mix of disappointment and confusion.

Your mind is racing but you don't get a word out.

Elrond sees the turmoil in your eyes, the struggle to find an explanation written all over your face. His expression softens slightly, but there's still a hint of betrayal in his eyes.

"How many years have we known each other? Fought together, bled together, shared meals and tales and laughter?" he asks quietly, still waiting for an answer.

"Almost 1800 years." You answer with a sigh.

Elrond falls silent for a moment, processing the magnitude of that number. 1800 years. More than a millennium of friendship, trust, and adventures together.

"1800 years," he echoes quietly. "And you never thought to mention a husband. Why?”

You look over at the fire.

Elrond's gaze follows yours to the flickering fire in the center of the tent. For a moment, there's a tense silence, filled only by the crackle of the flames.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions before inquiring further. “Who was he?”

You exhale softly, lost in thought.

“He was a strong elf, mischievous, but with a kind and gentle heart.”

“He had black hair that always caught the light, shimmering like polished obsidian in the sun.”

Elrond listens intently to your description, his face betraying a mixture of emotions as he pictured the mystery man.

"He sounds like an impressive individual," he says quietly, his eyes still fixed on the fire. "And yet I've never met him, nor have you ever mentioned him before.”

“I had a mission to complete, and before I left, I gave him the necklace as a parting gift. Then I set off from the village. When I returned after the mission, I found the village in ruins, completely destroyed.”

Elrond's expression darkened as you related the tragic tale of your return, destruction and loss where there should have been home and comfort.

"You came back to find everything gone?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nod. " I found my parents body, his parents but not him.”

Elrond's expression was grave as he listened to your words. The pain of losing your loved ones was clear in your voice, your eyes distant as you remembered that day.

"You never found him?" he asked softly.

"no, not a glimpse”

Elrond reaches out, a subtle gesture of comfort, his hand gently touching your arm. There's a look of understanding in his eyes, a painful empathy for the loss you've suffered.

"Do you..." he begins, his voice hesitant. "Do you think he survived?”

“That could be possible. He was always stubborn. I suppose it’s possible he simply has amnesia and forgot me or something along those lines. It’s hard to believe he wouldn’t remember.”

A small flicker of hope crossed Elrond's face at your words. The possibility of a loved one lost, but still alive, igniting a spark of optimism.

"It's possible," he said, his voice holding a note of comforting encouragement. "People have survived worse, with their memories intact. And if he's as stubborn as you say, then he may yet be out there, somewhere, waiting to be found."

“It unsettles me to see Adar wearing his pendant,” you say, a knot forming in your stomach. “Every glance at it reminds me of what I’ve lost and the memories I wish I could erase.”

Elrond nodded, his mind returning to the original topic of discussion. The fact that Adar wore the pendant you made was clearly weighing heavily on your mind.

"It must have been a shock to see someone else wearing something so personal," he said quietly, understanding the depth of your emotions.

“I didn’t forget Galadriel, but when it fell from Adar’s clothes, I thought I had lost it for good,” you say, your voice laced with sorrow.

Elrond listened intently, his expression a mixture of sympathy and understanding. He knew you well enough to know that your feelings were complicated and deeply personal.

"I understand," he said softly. "You didn't forget Galadriel, but seeing that pendant brought back memories, emotions long buried.”

"I think you both would have been good friends..”

Elrond gave a small, bittersweet smile at your heartfelt comment. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes as he responded.

"I agree," he said quietly. "If he were still here, I think we would have gotten along well. And Galadriel would have liked him too.”

For a few moments, Elrond and you sat in silence, both lost in your thoughts. The memory of your lost love hung in the air, a poignant reminder of what had been lost.

Finally, Elrond spoke up, his voice soft and gentle.

"Can I ask you something?” You nod.

Elrond looks at you intently, his gaze full of unspoken questions and emotions.

"Why haven't you ever spoken about him?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm. "All the time we've spent together, through battles, feasts, and quiet evenings, you've never once mentioned having a husband, a love who you lost.”

“First of all, you never asked, and second, I don’t want to dwell on it. I searched for centuries and still haven’t found him.”

Elrond listened to your reasons, his expression unreadable as he took in your words.

"I never asked because I never realized," he said quietly. "You're my closest friend, my sister in arms, and yet you've kept this part of your life hidden. I don't blame you for searching, but..." he trailed off, his eyes filled with a mix of understanding and melancholy.

"All those centuries of searching must have been so difficult," he continued. "Did you ever think about giving up? Moving on and finding someone else?”

“Moving on? No, that would feel like a betrayal to his memory and everything we shared.”

Elrond nodded silently, understanding the depth of your loyalty and devotion.

"It must have been lonely, though," he said quietly. "All those years, alone and searching…”

“He could be alive somewhere, still thinking of me, longing for me, and unable to find me. I can’t break the promise we made to each other without knowing for sure that he’s gone.”

Elrond's heart ached at the depth of your devotion to your lost love. The idea that he could still be out there, somewhere, remembering you, aching for you, touched a part of him that understood loss all too well.

"I admire your loyalty," he said softly, his voice filled with both respect and sadness. "But the odds of finding him, after all this time…”

“I don’t want to hear that,” you interrupted, frustration rising in your chest. “It feels like giving up on him, and I can’t do that.”

Elrond fell silent, realizing that his words, though driven by concern, were not what you wanted or needed to hear. He changed tact, his voice softer now.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just don't want to see you hurt any further. But I can see that your spirit is strong, your hope unbroken. I will not question your path any further.”

A bit later Galadriel walks into the tent.

Galadriel's slender figure appeared in the opening of the tent, her gaze immediately falling on you and Elrond. She looked tired but unharmed, a hint of relief present in her eyes.

Elrond stood up, greeting her with a warm smile, his worry for her evident in his expression.

“So, Elrond’s little farewell kiss actually worked...” you chuckle softly, recalling the key he had given her. It had proven invaluable, enabling her escape when she needed it most.

Elrond shot you a look, his cheeks reddening slightly at your teasing comment. Galadriel chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Yes, his little trick came in quite useful," she said, a hint of amused gratitude in her voice.

Elrond rolled his eyes at your playful banter, his cheeks still slightly flushed.

"Well, I'm glad it helped," he said, trying to maintain a hint of dignity. "But let's not make a habit of using my romantic overtures as a tactical maneuver, shall we?”

"Why not?" You slightly giggle amused and make place for Galadriel by the fireplace.

Elrond shot you a mock glare, his lips twisted into a half-smile despite himself.

"Because it's humiliating," he replied, a hint of mock seriousness in his voice. "I have a reputation to maintain as a leader, not a pawn to be used in escape plans."

Galadriel joined you by the fire, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

“You can be both a leader and someone who knows how to share a kiss.”

Elrond stifled a laugh at your impudent remark, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"Is that so? I suppose I might have to start a new strategy, then: using kisses as persuasive tactics in war councils," he said, his tone joking but with a hint of challenge.

You laugh. "Would be a surprise for them.”

Elrond chuckled, his earlier embarrassment giving way to a light-hearted banter.

"Yes, it certainly would," he agreed, "imagine a council of hardened warriors being left with a bunch of blushing fools after a particularly effective...tactical kiss.”

The image of a bunch of flustered warriors stammering and blushing after witnessing a strategic kiss was too much. All three of you shared a hearty laugh, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the fire and friendly banter.

————————————————————

A few days later, you slip away from the elven camp, moving quietly into the orc camp undetected. You make your way into Adar’s tent, finding it empty. As your eyes scan the space, they land on the pendant, and you reach for it, studying its details closely.

The familiar sight of the pendant lying innocently on a small table sent a wave of emotions through you. The delicate craftsmanship, the intricate patterns, all spoke of a past you longed for and a love that still echoed in your heart.

You picked up the pendant, cradling it carefully in your hands. The cool touch of the metal against your skin felt strangely familiar, as if it was your own heartbeat against your fingertips.

"the same metal and stones.”

You turn the pendant over, your eyes going over every detail. The metal, the setting, the stones - they were all so familiar, so deeply ingrained in your memory.

"The same," you murmur softly, your voice filled with a mixture of wonder and nostalgia. "As if not a day has passed since I made it.”

Before you can react, a hand seizes your hair, and a dagger presses against your throat. Adar's gaze roams over you, assessing your presence.

Your heart jumps into your throat as you feel Adar's hand grip your hair, pulling you back against his chest. The cold steel of the dagger against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. You had been so focused on the pendant that you didn't hear him enter.

"What are you doing in my tent?" Adar's voice is low and dangerous, his breath hot against your ear. He tightens his grip on your hair, the dagger's edge digging slightly into your skin.

"aren't you seeing what I'm doing?”

"Yes, I am seeing what you are doing," Adar replies, his voice cold and menacing. He gives your hair a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at him. "You're sneaking around in my tent without permission.”

Your eyes meet his. "That's true..”

Adar's gaze locks onto yours, his expression a mix of curiosity and malice. He leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he speaks.

"And why, pray tell, are you sneaking around in here, looking at my things?”

"The pendant is mine.”

Adar's eyes narrow at your assertion, his grip on you tightening. He gazes down at the pendant in your hand, then up at your face, suspicion in his gaze.

"You're claiming ownership of this pendant?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

“I am. I crafted it myself,” you reply, standing your ground despite the danger.

Adar's eyes widen slightly at your declaration, disbelief and intrigue flickering across his face. He gazes down at the pendant clutched in your fingers, the realization of your connection to it sinking in.

"You...made it?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of surprise.

You draw your dagger, but Adar is quicker, forcing you to your knees and disarming you with ease. The sudden shift catches you off guard, and a startled gasp escapes your lips as your dagger clatters to the floor.

The pendant, once clutched tightly in your hand, tumbles onto the pillow, its fragile presence contrasting sharply with the tense power struggle unfolding between you.

Adar stands over you, his tall figure imposing in the dim light of the tent. He looks down at you, a mixture of anger and interest in his eyes.

"You have quite the nerve," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "Sneaking into my tent, trying to claim a pendant as your own, and then pulling a blade on me?”

Adar watches you closely, his eyes taking in every detail of your expression. He can see the frustration in your eyes, the anger and defiance in your body language.

He crouches down next to you, his hand reaching out to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Look at me," Adar commands, his voice firm and authoritative. "You're in my tent, you tried to steal from me, and then you attempted to attack me. And all because of a pendant you say you made.”

“Hold it to the fire, and the inscription will become visible.”

Adar's eyes narrow as you mention the lettering, his interest piqued. He releases your chin, his gaze flickering to the pendant on the pillow.

"And what does this lettering say?" he asks, his voice suddenly intense.

“In the quiet whisper of the wind through the trees, you may find what my heart dares not speak aloud,” you reply, feeling Adar’s heart lift slightly as he recognizes the words he once heard centuries ago.

As your words float through the tent, Adar's eyes widen, a flicker of recognition passing over his face. The inscription, the words you uttered, hold a significance that can't be denied. It triggers something in him, a memory, a feeling he thought long buried.

Adar's gaze remains fixed on you, his expression cautious, as he holds the pendant over the fire. The metal warms against the flames, and slowly, the familiar lettering begins to become visible.

With each flicker of the fire, the words he once thought forgotten are slowly revealed.

Adar's breath hitches in his throat as he stares at the now-visible lettering, his hand beginning to shake slightly. The sight of the words, written by your own hand, stirs something deep within him, memories and emotions long suppressed bubbling to the surface.

“The pendant isn’t yours,” you declare.

Adar's gaze snaps from the pendant, back to you. There's a flicker of anger in his eyes, as if your words have somehow insulted him.

"And it doesn't belong to you either," he says, his voice quiet but tinged with irritation.

He holds the pendant up in front of your face, the letters now fully visible against the metal's surface.

"This pendant was made centuries ago, yet you claim to be its creator," he says, his voice laced with a strange mixture of curiosity and doubt. "How can I be sure you're telling the truth?”

Adar's gaze roams over your form, taking in every feature, every detail. There's a hint of recognition in his eyes, as if something about you seems both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

His eyes linger on your features - your hair, your beautiful eyes, your elvish ears, your pale skin, your cherry-red lips. Something about your look triggers a memory, a feeling he can't quite place.

He reaches out, his fingertips lightly tracing the edge of your ear. The touch is almost tender, his fingers exploring the shape, the texture, as if trying to confirm his own suspicions.

Adar's touch causes your ear to twitch slightly, a small reaction that doesn't escape his notice. A hint of a smile touches his lips, as if he finds this small detail somehow endearing.

He continues to explore, his fingers tracing over your cheek, your jaw, as if committing every feature to memory.

"You look so familiar.." he murmurs, his voice betraying curiosity and a hint of wonder.

As he studies your face, his gaze intent, he slowly circles around you.

"Very familiar.." he repeats, his voice quieter now, as if he's speaking more to himself than to you.

His eyes roam over your hair, your ears, your slender neck, and a frown of concentration forms on his face. Something about you is stirring memories, awakening something in his heart he thought long dead.

He stops in front of you once again, his eyes boring into yours. The expression on his face is a mix of confusion and realization, as if the pieces of a puzzle are slowly falling into place.

"Who.. Who are you?" he asks softly, his voice holding a tremble of uncertainty.

“Y/n”

Adar's eyes widen ever so slightly as you give your name, your simple answer triggering something within him.

"Y/n.." he repeats, your name rolling off his tongue like a long-forgotten melody. The sound of it seems to ignite something deep within him, stirring memories and feelings he'd thought lost to time.

"the pendant, how did it get into your hands?”

Adar's expression hardens at your question, his jaw clenching as if you've hit a nerve.

"That's none of your business," he snaps, his voice sharp. "It belongs to me, and I don't have to explain its origins to you.”

“It belonged to my husband,” you snap.

Adar's eyes narrow, his anger tinged with a hint of curiosity.

“Your husband?” he echoes, disbelief evident in his voice. “You’re claiming this pendant was his?”

“Yes, I gave it to him before I set out on a mission,” you assert firmly.

What neither of you realize is that this moment resonates with a deeper connection, Adar had received a pendant from his own beloved before she embarked on her journey, but neither of you recognizes the shared history that binds you.

As your words sink in, the realization of their significance hits Adar like a ton of bricks. The way you describe giving the pendant to your husband, just as he had received a similar piece from his own loved one, sets something off in his mind.

His eyes widen as the pieces of the puzzle start falling into place.

"Who.. What was your husband's name?" he asks, his voice suddenly shaky.

“Sytal”

Adar's heart seems to skip a beat as you say your husband's name.

"Sytal..." he repeats, the name rolling off his tongue like a long-lost song. Memories, feelings, and realization swirl in his eyes, the connection becoming more apparent with each word you utter.

He takes a step closer to you, his gaze intense, studying your face with an almost desperate look.

"Describe him, your husband," he demands, his voice taut with emotion.

You frown slightly.

“He had black hair that shimmered in the sunlight, and a scar on his right ear from when my arrow grazed him. His mind was sharp, a true warrior like me... Mischievous, gentle, and kind.”

A wave of nostalgia washes over you as you remember the moments you shared, each memory a bittersweet reminder of what you’ve lost.

As you describe your husband, Adar listens intently, his expression becoming more and more captivated.

Each trait you mention ignites a memory within him, each word drawing pictures in his mind's eye. The description of the scar on your husband's ear, the one caused by your own arrow, hits him hard, awakening an ache in his heart.

"I have been searching for him, since centuries and now you have his pendant.."

Adar's eyes flicker with a mixture of guilt, anger, and confusion. The realization that the pendant he has cherished for centuries belonged to your husband - the same man you have been searching for - creates a maelstrom of emotions in his chest.

His grip on the pendant tightens, his knuckles turning white as his own memories of his loved one flood his mind.

"Who gave it to you?" You ask again.

Adar hesitates for a moment, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Reluctantly, he speaks again, his voice low and heavy.

"A female. A Warrior," he begins, his words slow and measured as if the memory is painful to recall. "She gave it to me before she left on a dangerous mission. She said she would return.”

You slowly stand up from your kneeling position.

"Do you have her name or a nickname?”

As you rise to your feet, Adar tracks your movements closely, his eyes wary and conflicted. At your question, he falters for a moment, as if the memory stings.

“Her nickname...” he begins, his voice rough with emotion. “I called her... moonshine... She adored it.”

“Because she lit up like the moon whenever she saw you, right?” you add, a knowing smile tugging at your lips.

Adar's eyes widen slightly, your words hitting him with an unexpected force. It's like you had read his mind, like you know the very thoughts he had harbored in his heart.

"Yes.. that's exactly why.." he responds, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

You look at him and move closer. You know it's a bold move but you cub his face and look at his right pointed ear, having a hunch.

As you approach him, Adar tenses slightly, unsure of your intentions. But your touch is surprisingly gentle, your gaze focused on his ear.

He doesn't pull away, instead he allows you to inspect his ear, his heart hammering against his chest.

The sight of the healed but unmistakable scar on Adar's ear makes your blood run cold. It's the same scar you had inflicted on your husband, a mark as unique as a fingerprint.

"The scar.." you murmur, your voice tight with emotion. "It's the same..”

You meet Adar's eyes. "Who destroyed our village, my love. Who killed our parents? Who was the one that took you away from me?”

Your words strike Adar like a dagger to his heart. They're filled with a mix of anger, accusation, but also love and sorrow.

His eyes widen as he realizes the truth you're hinting at, the words catching in his throat.

"How... How do you know-”

"You are my Sytal.."

Adar's eyes are wide and disbelieving, his mind struggling to process the truth that's crashing down around him. He looks at you, really looks at you, truly seeing you for the first time.

Your eyes, the color of which he could never forget. The way you hold yourself, the familiar curve of your lips... it all resonates with him so deeply, it's like a part of his soul that's been lost is finally being returned.

But alongside the realization, there's a deep well of guilt and self-loathing.

"You were once an elf, right? Centuries ago?"

Adar nods slowly, his expression still one of shock and disbelief.

"Yes... I was once an elf. Before..." he hesitates, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Before I was made like I am now.”

"and your elven name, do you remember it..”

Adar's eyes flicker as he calls upon the distant memories of his past life. It's been centuries since he's dwelt on them, and it takes him a moment to retrieve the name he once held before he was... changed.

"My elven name..." he murmurs, the syllables of his long-forgotten name coming to his lips. "It was Sytal.”

"You are him.. you're really him..”

Adar nods slowly, a mix of guilt and heartbreak etched on his face.

"Yes..." he whispers, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I am... I am him."

The weight of realization settles between you, the truth of your identities and shared past crashing over you both. Emotions churn through you, too overwhelming to bear. Your vision blurs, and before you can steady yourself, everything fades to black.

Adar’s eyes widen as you sway unsteadily, then collapse. Reacting instantly, he lunges forward, catching you before you hit the ground. His arms wrap protectively around you, and he gently lowers you, his hands cradling your head in his lap.

“No... no, no...” he murmurs, his voice filled with panic and regret. He strokes your hair, his heart racing as he gazes down at your unconscious face. Emotions he had buried for decades now break free, shock, guilt, worry, and an ache he can barely contain. The memory of who you were to him, who you still are, pierces through him, raw and real.

“I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking as he studies your face, taking in every familiar line and feature. Trembling, he lifts a hand to your cheek, his fingers brushing tenderly over your skin, as if hoping this touch could somehow bridge the years of separation, the pain he’s caused.

As he holds you, you stir slightly, a faint movement that sends a flicker of hope into his eyes. He cradles you closer, his hand cupping your face with a gentleness that belies his strength.

“Y/n...” he whispers, his voice soft and aching. “Can you hear me?”

As your eyes flutter open, Adar’s face comes into focus above you, his features softened by worry and a tenderness you recognize but thought you’d never see again. His hand rests against your cheek, as if assuring himself that you’re real, here, beside him.

“Y/n,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. You smile faintly, grounding yourself in his presence, and your gaze drifts down to something glinting at his chest, the pendant.

“You kept it?” you murmur, surprise and warmth mingling in your voice.

Adar’s expression falters, and he glances away, shame flickering across his face. “It was all I had left of you,” he admits, voice thick with regret. “But you… you’re unchanged, as beautiful as the day I last saw you. And I.." He hesitates, looking down at himself, the scars and hardened edges from years in darkness weighing heavily on him. “I don’t know if I’m the man you gave it to anymore.”

You tighten your hold on his hand, your voice gentle yet resolute. “Adar, you kept that pendant because you never let go of who you were. And I haven’t, either. You’re still the man I loved, no matter what time and the world tried to do to us.”

A tear slips down his cheek as he looks at you, both surprised and touched by your words. “But… you deserve more than this broken shell,” he whispers, the insecurity in his voice breaking your heart.

“Then let’s be whole together,” you say, reaching up to stroke his face, your thumb tracing a gentle line over the scarred skin. “I spent lifetimes longing to find you again. Nothing else matters to me now. Nothing.”

At this, his composure finally crumbles. With a soft, trembling breath, he pulls you into his arms, holding you as if anchoring himself in the storm of emotions. “I never stopped loving you,” he murmurs, his voice a mixture of awe and relief. “I never will.”

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that feels like a promise, a reconciliation, a homecoming. The weight of all those years, all the missed moments, falls away.

When you pull back, you’re both smiling, a shared, quiet joy that speaks of acceptance, of strength, and of an unbreakable bond. You rise together, hand in hand, stepping out of the tent into the fresh light of dawn. The path ahead may still be unknown, but it’s one you’ll walk side by side, as elf and orc, bound by a love that time and trials could never sever.

#adar #adar rings of power #Adar #adar x reader #rings of power #elf reader #dark elf #orc #happiness #happy ending au #adar fanfic #adar x you #adar x oc #Adar x y/n #love #rings of power s2 #trop x reader

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shirefantasies · 8 months ago

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Hello, may I please request fem reader x Elrond? With reader that is quite avoidant when it comes to touch, but accepts hugs and kisses from Elrond? I hope it is okay 👉👈 thank you so much in advance, have a wonderful day 💕💕💕💕

Yes, sorry this took so long but here we are! Hope you enjoy how this came to me, a one-shot featuring a third party POV as well as ‘yours’ 😊

The Steel Lady of Imladris- Elrond x F!Elf!Reader

It was known to the surrounding lands that in the Last Homely House one might be surprised by whom they meet; the lord of the land, after all, had a lady by his side, one whose presence was said to carry the chill of a harsh wind with her presence. Resolute as her home's walls, she cut quite the contrast to the hearths always said to be awaiting visitors of the fair valley. Perhaps she was even a witch like the one dwelling in the woods of Lórien.

Such were the rumors swirling in the mind of Rivendell's dwarven visitor, called there as he was to offer his people's wise council. Ha! What was it that had those pointy-ears finally asking for their help Gimli did not know, but happy was he to attend with his father at his side.

Riding in with his kin, he took in sailing white arches and a very well-constructed bridge, hearing his father mutter all the while about how nothing had changed. He had stopped there once before some sixty years ago, after all, during the dragon incident.

A whole gaggle of elves awaited there, some armored but most just decked out in their pretty finery, one clad in white emerging from the center with a deep blue-clad figure upon his arm. Long, elaborately twisted strands of dark hair hung onto his raiment and a circlet of silver crossed his forehead. Likewise, the woman at his side had what hair she could done with equal finesse, a matching headpiece, and a dress more closely tailored than the lord's robes. Elrond and his consort, the so-called Steel Lady of Imladris.

Sure enough, fair as you were your face was resolute as you stepped forward, practical even as you curtsied, surrendering the smallest of smiles. Ready for a fight as he was, Gimli wasn’t sure he’d want to take you on. At least, not without the proper head start and all.

You flinched as Gloin clapped a hand to your back, stepping forward in utter avoidance of his touch. Disrespectful though it may have seemed, you equally avoided one of your elven fellows’ advances. Gimli shook his head. Cold as they came.

Alright, fine, maybe this wing of the place was a little confusing. He still could figure it out for himself. One more corridor and it would be golden-

“Trouble yourself not, My Lady.”

Tilting his head, Gimli took a few steps forward, was availed the sight of Lord Elrond…holding you at the elbows, pulling you closer? The sound of… you giggling?

He’d turned away, but that sound along had Gimli swiveling around the corner again. Your head tilted and leaned onto the dark-haired elf’s shoulder. A smile cut further across your face as his lips fell to the crown of your head.

“You needn’t spend any more time in the crowds than you must. It was simply right to have you at my side for greetings.”

“I like being at your side, though,” you whispered, peeling your head from Elrond’s chest to kiss him once, twice, and far more lingering.

All right, that was enough. Off to bed. Gimli turned, trying the other fork in the hall with a faint smile playing upon his lips. Steel Lady indeed.

“Greetings, Madam.”

Frowning slightly, you turned to see if your eyes had deceived you; they had not- one of the visiting dwarves removed his helmet in your presence, giving you a jolly little bow.

Generally you were…unsuccessful, shall you say… with guests. Aversion to touch had bloomed from the harsh experiences of your past life, making trust a challenge. No bearing upon their race or character, but outsiders posed a threat. Disrupting routines, bringing louder, brasher customs. Viewing you as either held in thrall to their impositions or else some myth beyond their metaphorical touch.

Elrond was the anchor in your vast sea of anxiety, the only one who saw through story, perceived emotion seemingly unexpressed. Displayed hope and kindness abundant as the cleanest of springs.

But now stood a dwarf of all people fixing you with earnest hazel eyes. Understanding. What should you do?

A smile shook its way to your lips. “Good morning,” you chose a customary greeting. Standard, safe.

“Aye,” the dwarf nodded, “it is, isn’t it? Well, I know you elves like to keep time, so I'll be off to breakfast before there is none. Tell me your favorite and I will save you some if I can."

Stranger or not, you were sure anyone could have read the shock upon your face. Shaking it quickly aside, you kept your face neutral as you named it and gave a thanks. As the dwarf went on his way, he bid you his final farewell by your title, yes, but also your name. They didn't usually use your name.

Light footsteps rang out behind you, barely perceptible even by your sensitive ears. "And what was that about, hm?" Elrond.

Tension melted from your shoulders as the curious little quirk of your lips burst into a wide smile. Turning on your heels, you slid your arms about your husband's waist, relaxing when his hand caressed the top of your head.

"The dwarf," you answered, "he was so kind. Not in that rough way so often seen, but...genuine. Caring. Like he wanted to see me smile. Could someone have challenged him?"

You feel your husband's head shake. "How many times must I remind you," he teased, "of the light that lies in your eyes? That which reaches deepest into the heart. Surely he felt no challenge than that. Indeed, I would say he simply sees you as I do."

Heart thumping, you loosened your grip on Elrond to meet his lips in a loving kiss, safe in the warmth of his words and his hold upon you. Bit by bit he encouraged you to be brave, never leaving you adrift for long, you reflected as he took your hand, bidding you lead the way to the greater halls at your ready.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #elrond #elrond x reader #elrond x female reader #female reader #elf reader #one shot #ask #anon #requested

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justmasblack · 14 days ago

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Mirage

Sauron/Annatar x Female elf reader, Celebrimbor x Female elf reader -Is it?-

Summary: Your husband Wants the rings but Some smith is getting on his nerves in so many ways.

Word count: Almost 2.5k

Author: This is my first ever published fanfic for any fandom, It hasn't been beta. I really hope to know what you think of it, Have fun I guess.

Warnings: Blood, Slight smut, Graphic scenes, Less than 18 please Don't read.

"This all can stop, All of it." I kneeled by Celebrimbor's side, He doesn't have much, I know it, He knows it and therefore my words are empty and my promises are hollow to him.

"If only I gave you the nine rings." He tiredly nodded."Name what you want, I will make sure you get it."

"Anything?"

"Anything" I caressed his face gently.

"Kill your husband" My hand retracted as if it was hit by lightning.

"Kill my husband and have the rings And live lonely, Just like you did." I replied coldly.

"Is it the only reason you are with him? So you wouldn't be lonely?"

"You can never understand, He loves me Celebrimbor, He Loves me." I viciously replied.

"But who do you love my dear friend?"I swallowed hardly the lump that formed in my throat because of his question and the fact he still calls me his friend, I didn't know if he actually meant it or not, But Who do I love indeed?. Am I still in love with Mainor?, Or Is it just just a habit by now?. Centuries passed since we were last together. Is he even still in love with me?.

Celebrimbor sensed my hesitation and decided to twist the knife deeper."He doesn't love you, He never did, He isn't capable of that and you know it."I was having enough of Celebrimbor's games and decided to focus again on my mission. He will never know how far Mairon can go for me.

..............................................................................

Five courses lied on our dinner table."I know you don't have much of an appetite but you will definitely love what I had prepared for you" He grabbed my seat for me to sit down and went to sit in his seat.

He pointed to the servants to uncover the five courses that was put in front of me to find 5 elven heads. Not just any elfs, I will always remember the elfs who killed my family, Their heads now lie in front of me. I chuckled and couldn't help the tears that streamed down my face. I got up of my chair and he met me half way.

" I promised you to quench your revenge fire, Now I promise I will never let anyone hurt you again"

"And I promise that you would never be alone again"I didn't know who needed that promise me or him, But I knew something for a fact that night. I knew He was the one for me and I would do anything for him.

...............................................................................

"We will never let anyone know that it was you who gave them to us, The massacre of your people and the destruction of your legacy will stop and......" Celebrimbor chuckled at my promises.

"Or......" I put my index on my mouth "We could deny you death and he would let me keep you as a pet." I caressed his face delicately and whispered in his ears "Trust me my dear celebrimbor, You will hate it."

My husband entered the forge at this very moment "What's taking so long?." He was impatient and agitated.

"His head is indestructible." I grimaced at celebrimbor and got up leaving him for my husband to deal with. I watched the city being brought to ashes from the window.My husband took pleasure in tormenting Celebrimbor. He was always good when it came to that.

..........................................................................

"Do we really have to do this?"

"We must do this, Otherwise we can lose each other any moment again and this time, It could be forever" Those were the words of my husband who came back as Annatar, Lord of the gifts.

Centuries of mourning, During them I built my life in Eregion, Had a new name, New identity and new feelings for the master of the city.

Mainor taught me some craft in our leisure. He loved teaching me everything and I always wanted to learn quickly and be perfect for him.

The things I learnt from my husband were the things that drew Celebrimbor's attention to me. I felt seen for the first time in centuries. So when my husband showed up again and told me of his plan, I hesitated but eventually agreed as he told me it was the only way to be together again. I never thought that this plan would involve tormenting Celebrimbor that much or that long as he wasn't supposed to discover the true identity of Annatar that quickly.

................................................................................

"You will never reach whatever mirage you are seeking Sauron".

"You will be surprised how resourceful I can be Celebrimbor" Celebrimbor snickered at Sauron's vanity.

"You can't even see what you lost even when it's in front of you" Sauron followed Celebrimbor's gaze and his eyes widened.

"Enjoying the view".

"What?" I frowned as I was snapped from my train of thoughts by his comment.

" I ... Said.... Are you enjoying the view?" He approached me with the coldest stare in his eyes, I didn't know what urged it but I knew something was wrong as I was perplexed by his question and his next words planted terror in my bones.

"Finish him".

"What?" I looked with horror at celebrimbor who was barely conscious.

"Why?, We didn't get the rings yet" I hid my panic as my breath started to hitch.

"We won't get them from him, I will get them the hard and traditional way, I will look for them myself, NOW...- He shoved a blade into my hand- Finish him".

I hesitated and he caught that hesitation, He grabbed my arm.

"Are you defying me?" I frantically shaked my head. "Just let me convince him, I know I can" My husband's grip almost broke my arm before he let go of it. "You have only one try and you will kill him" He pushed me towards celebrimbor whom I kneeled beside and held his face gently. "It doesn't have to be this way, Please Celebrimbor, I don't want to see in hurt, It doesn't have to end this way" My forehead rested against his head while I whispered my words into his ear.

" Leave..... I don't want you to witness this". Celebrimbor whispered in pain.

" We will eventually find them, With your help or without it, Your life is too precious to be lost this way".

"Leave for good" He looked at me while saying his last words to me.

...............................................................................

Sauron was barely containing his anger and jealousy, Did his wife actually betrayed him?, Did she stop loving him and left him like that elf had said?, She is begging the elf and he is shamelessly telling her to leave him, Her husband while he is witnessing all of it.

"That's it, You failed, Finish him" I looked at my husband who approached us, His face darkened and I knew there is no room for any more delay. I held the blade again but it felt so heavy in my hand, It wasn't the first time I kill but why I couldn't lift my hand as it felt so numb. My husband gave me his back waiting for me to finish my mission.

Celebrimbor noticed my hesitation and he decided to spare me such cruelty.

"Asking your wife to kill me instead of you is kinda beneath you, I thought we had special time Annatar Or shall I say Shadow of Morgoth. Listen to me very well Shadow of Morgoth, Listen to the Dying words Of Celebrimbor, The last prince of house Fëanor, Those Rings of power shall be your destruction and your ruin, You lose everything because of them Lord of Rings and EVERYONE"

................................................................................

I couldn't take the teasing of that elf anymore, I grabbed a spear, stuck it into his abdomen and lifted him with it. My wife screamed and covered her face. I looked at her and the blade that fell of her hand then looked at Celebrimbor.

I told him the last words he will ever hear "I WILL WIN EVERYTHING BECAUSE YOU GIFTED ME THEM". Then I fixed the spear to the ground. I decided to put all my focus on my wife or whom I thought was my wife, I uncovered her face with my hands to find her crying.

"Are those tears for me or for him? Answer me." She flinched and tried to free her face from my grip. "You are hurting me", She grabbed my wrist. "You loved him, Didn't you?. Do you love him?", I let go of her chin and dug my fingers in her arms holding her in place, She shaked her head, closed her eyes and let her tears stream.

"I want to hear you say it, Do You Love Him?"

"No" She whispered but her thoughts screamed yes, My eyes widened and a tear fell down my cheek. My hands fell by my side, She opened her eyes at the loss of my touch and cupped my face.

"You are my husband, We swore long time ago for better or worse. Mairon, I choose you, It's always gonna be you. Please let's go home. Please."

................................................................................

I woke up in my bed in Mordor, I don't how I got here, I saw my husband standing at the head of my bed looking at my lying figure, I sit in my bed with my head spinning. "How did I come back here? When?."

He took his time before answering. "You felt overwhelmed and lost your consciousness, Apparently you have grown soft with time"

I looked at my lab, He lies straight to my face, He knocked me down, I know it but he would never admit it.

"It's good to be back home" I whispered but he never commented. I got off my bed and walked to him, He refused to meet my eyes.

"I missed you, I Missed us, I missed this" I put my hand on his heart and took his hand to put it on mine. " Mairon" I whispered his name but he still didn't react, I tried to kiss him but he wasn't kissing me back so I was about to head back to my bed before his hand grabbed my wrist. He pulled me closer to him and hungrily kissed me. He threw me back on our bed, We both lost our garments quickly. His moves were harder than anytime and my moans of his name were louder.

I wanted him to have me, with his mouth and his touches. I wanted him to remind me of what we had and make me forget the mirage of what I almost had. I wanted his touches to cleanse me of my forbidden thoughts, Claim me as his and make me repent from any feeling or smile or even a word of affection I targeted anyone else but him with it.

Tears fell down my face and I didn't know if it was because I am finally with my husband for the first time in centuries or because of his moves that felt like punishment or because I had a hand in the demise of Celebrimbor. My heart was clenching in my chest and I couldn't place the reason, A feeling I thought I had forgotten, Could it be guilt? Or something else?.

After coming down from multiple highs, I rested my head over his chest listening to his heartbeat. I always loved doing that. His heartbeat was always relaxing and hypnotizing to me.

...............................................................................

I watched as he was experimenting his ideas. He always preferred the early hours of the morning before the forge gets crowded.

"Don't you have some work to finish or Are you gonna watch me all day?" I smirked at the lord who haven't spared me a look yet.

"I finished it yesterday". He sighed and left what he was doing and I advanced to stand by his side.

"You never listen, I thought I told you to finish it today and go get some rest." I smiled at his frustration, Did he actually care about me or was it all in my head?

"What? You can't blame me, It's not my fault I have a master that inspire that devotion in me."

"You are taking the day off, When did you finish your work?"

"Two hours ago" I smiled admiring his feature from this close.

"And why aren't you in bed already?"

"I couldn't sleep, Not when I know I can get a front seat to watch that inspiration before the forge gets crowded." He sighed but decides to fiddle with some of the papers in front of him.

"I will never surpass you, Will I? You will always be the master and I am the pupil." "That's not right, One day you will be even greater. You need more experience and to never rush time wanting to grow up quickly, Who knows you could be my heir or my successor." I shaked my head at his words, I knew what he meant but I grew tired of that game.

"But I don't want to be your heir or successor."

"Y/n" He whispered my name

"Celebrimbor" I held his face gently.

"Listen I will not act on my feelings if it's not mutual and be assured I would never embarrass you by any indecent action but Please stop dismissing them as if they don't exist or they are vile. It hursts me." His worried eyes looked down then looked at me again.

"I never said they were vile. You are young"

"I am old celebrimbor" My hands left his face.

"And I am even older. You deserve someone younger."

"Don't tell me what I deserve, Especially when I know exactly what I want, But I get it now, You will always be married to your craft and I don't like to share."

"You will find someone more proper than me."

"No, There's no one like you." I lowered my gaze and turned my face the other way snickering at my ridiculousness. There's actually someone like him and I am tied to him. Already.

"It's just you are different." I painfully smiled at him and before I leave the forge , I turned my face with sad smile over my face.

"You would have been a great husband and a magnificent father celebrimbor."

...............................................................................

The bitterness in sauron mouth increased. He wanted to kill his wife in her sleep. How dare she touch him while thinking and dreaming of another?He won, He really won, celebrimbor. Not only he denied him the elf rings but also he stole from him his most precious thing. Sauron only saw it now that no matter the outcome to the situation. It's celebrimbor who won.If he had killed him or If he hadn't. If he killed his wife or If he didn't. Sauron lost this battle

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misstycloud · 2 years ago

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Yandere!Hunter x Elf!Reader

Yandere!hunter who is the village’s loner. He rarely talks to anyone else, instead he prefers to keep to himself in his cabin secluded from the town.

Yandere!hunter who has heard legends about the kinds of creatures living in the forest nearby, the one that almost no one goes into. Well, except him of course. The place was gianourmus and hard to find the way out the moment you set foot inside. It was like a maze. One you’ll be trapped in forever if you weren’t careful.

Yandere!hunter who regards himself as a logical man and therefore doesn’t believe a word of those silly tales. They were just bedtime stories for kids, something parents used to keep them out of the woods.

Yandere!hunter who goes into the woods in hunt for prey, he needed meat to sell at the market; also he was in urgency of food on the table. He had to eat and lazing around the cabin wouldn’t solve anything.

Yandere!hunter who definitely doesn’t believe in things like elves. Ethereal, intelligent and magical, how could a perfect being be real. They don’t exist. But how come he met you?

Yandere!hunter who was just as surprised as you to come across another creatures on your adventure through the high trees. You immediately raised your guard when you saw him. He was a stranger, a potential threat to your life.

Yandere!hunter who was taken aback by your beauty. No one he’d ever seen before could compare to you. There was just something about you that instantly drew him in like a moth to a flame. You were obviously not a mortal, that was for sure. The hunter started thinking back to the legends, perhaps they were in fact true. There really were magical creatures such as elves living in the woods.

Yandere!hunter who lowered his weapons to show you that he wasn’t intending on harming you. Then he slowly inched closer to you, barely daring to breathe in fear of you simply being an illusion of being there for too long.

Yandere!hunter who is overjoyed when you don’t run away and chose to stay and talk to him. It had been a while since he last held a conversation longer than two sentences.

Yandere!hunter who is desperate when you say you needed to go home and begs you to meet with him in the same spot the next night. He had to speak to you again, he must get to know you more. Luckily you agree to his request, albeit a bit reluctantly at first while looking over your shoulder deeper into the forest. As if you were worried about something in there.

Yandere!hunter who is thoroughly enjoying the conversations you two share every night. Not only were you wonderful on the outside, you were heavenly on the inside too. So kind and full of life, always curious about things and willing to learn.

Yandere!hunter who thinks your pointed ears are just adorable and let’s you feel his own rounded ones. How your face lits up when you are allowed to touch his ears is so cute, he thinks.

Yandere!hunter who absolutely loves when you ask him questions regarding his life. You showed interest in him! He answers all questions honestly, only wanting to reveal himself to you. You were the first person to ask him about his day and his likes, it warmed his heart to the point of it feeling like it’s going to explode.

Yandere!hunter who is sad when his inquiries concerning your life is responded with vague and short replies. You say that you can’t really tell him that much about your society, that it would be unfair to the others.

Yandere!hunter who realises he can’t live without you in his life. He must have you with him. What if you’re not safe? What if someone’s being mean towards you? What if another comes for your hand?

Yandere!hunter who won’t let anyone else have you when he needs you the most. The next time you meet, he supposed he’ll have to convince you that he is a much better option and you’ll be happier with him.

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soralinklokidottirofmirkwood · 3 months ago

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Daddy’s little girl: Dad Thranduil x teen (turned into baby) daughter reader part 2.

Reader Chan being coddled by Dad Thranduil.

It had been 3 weeks since your de-aging transformation and boy did it have its ups and downs.

The down side is that you had to go in a diaper, your father or maids washed, dressed and feed you, you had a sleep schedule, you constantly needed adult supervision but worse of all you had to be carried all the time since you can’t walk anymore.

On the upside you get a lot of undivided attention, you got to take naps and you get to be near your father more.

You were napping in your bed that now had bars around it so you wouldn’t fall off with a mobile that had crescent moon, duck, elk, butterfly and elf archer plushies on it, cuddling an elk plushie with a pacifier in your now toothless mouth.

You slowly opened your eyes after an hour of sleeping to see that your father, Gandalf and Lord Elrond were talking with your father sitting at your desk “Looks like someone’s awake from their beauty sleep.” Elrond said smiling making Gandalf chuckle while your father got up from your desk chair and took you out of the crib while you let go of your elk “Tis almost time for luncheon anyways.” Your father said gently propping you on his shoulder while you sucked on your pacifier that was probably driving him crazy.

You sat on your fathers lap in the dinning hall with Elrond, Gandalf and the boys, Legolas and Elladan were poking your cheeks making you puff them out “Boys!!!” Thranduil and Elrond said in a warning tone while giving them stern looks “But she looks adorable when she pouts like that.” Elrohir said taking Legolas’s place in poking your chubby cheeks until you had enough and bit his and Elladan’s fingers as hard as you could making everyone chuckle as your father hugged your tiny body gently.

After eating your father and Elrond had a meeting and they brought you with them which ticked you since you hated meetings because nothing was ever done and the diplomats in their were very immature (You sometimes wondered how your father can stay calm through all that without exploding) not to mention the never ending arguments on what should be done.

This meeting was the only time you were thankful to be de aged because of the return of your short attention span you forgot you were in the meeting and just played with your fathers rings as he and Elrond talked with the men, dwarves and other elves from different kingdoms “And that closes today’s meeting. By the way Thranduil, what happened to the princess?” One of the elves asked making you snap out of what you were doing and look up to see that the meeting was finished “She accidentally drank a de aging potion that Gandalf brewed for a prank on the boys.” Your father said spinning a little white lie “Oh, That makes sense. But she does look adorable.” Said a she dwarf smiling at you gently while your baby mind took over.

After the meeting you, your father and Elrond went outside to see how the boys and Glorfindel are doing in their training but instead you were met with three fully grown ellon arguing on who got the most shots until the two even older ellon spoke “Ahem.” Your father and Elrond said together with you getting distracted by a butterfly as you reached out to touch it but it flew away making you whimper “You boys have upset Y/N.” Your father scolded patting your back gently “You three will have extra training for three weeks.” Elrond said making Thranduil nod while you played with his spider broach with curious eyes while sucking your thumb “Um, Thranduil!?” Elrond said pointing down to you making the older elf look down to see you sucking on your thumb “This is new.” Your father said in surprise “She’s never done this as an infant.” He said making realization hit you ‘What in Eru’s name is wrong with me? It’s embarrassing enough that everyone in the palace knows that I’m a baby again for a month.’ You thought in your head burring it in you father’s burgundy robes making him chuckle a bit and pat your tiny head as the boys snickered “I’ve never seen her suck her thumb, she never did that as a kid.” Legolas said making Thranduil give him a death look “May I remind you, Legolas that you yourself are punished as well for bringing Y/N with you on Patrol knowing that she’s not allowed!?” Your father said making you smirk and stick your tongue out at your big brother “Oye She just stuck her tongue out at me.” Legolas said “We saw her to.” The twins said pointing to you still curled into a tiny ball in your father’s arms making the even older elves give Legolas and the twins annoyed looks as you rested your head on Thranduil’s shoulder.

A month later:

It was finally your last day of grounding and being a baby, tomorrow you will be free from grounding and be turned back into your actual age.

Though it was fun being a baby again and getting more attention, though you found too much attention embarrassing.

That night:

You are being held by Thranduil as Gandalf gave him the potion that will turn you back into a teenager that is in a baby bottle.

Thranduil sat on your bed that now had the Bars removed since it was your last night as an infant with you still in his arms but your now dressed in one of your big nightgowns, after feeding you, Thranduil burped you then put you to bed while saying “I’m going to miss this.” He said placing a kiss on your tiny head for the last time.

The next morning:

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the sun rays shining through your window.

You sat up from your bed and felt that your feet can finally touched the floor, looking at your body mirror you’re happy to see that you’re a teenager again “Finally.” You said going to your private bathroom without your fathers and maids help.

After bathing you got dressed and did your hair for the day “Finally, no more adult supervision.” You said happily until you heard your father’s voice “All though you’re still not allowed anywhere without at least three guards with you, even around the palace.” He said waking into your room “I will be joining you during your training time from now on to determine when you’re ready to join the patrol, you will also be staying with me in the throne when you’re done with your training and you will be dining with me. Do you understand little one?” He asked “Yes Dad.” You said as your brother who looked frazzled walked into the room “Legolas, I hope this experience has taught you both a lesson and Legolas if you or Tauriel put Y/N in danger like that again you both will face the same punishment as Y/N. Am I making myself clear?” He asked “Perfectly father.” Legolas said with a blush then all of you walked out to the dining hall for breakfast ‘I can finally eat different foods again instead of baby Porridge.’ You said in your head.

Once in the dining room Legolas went to join the patrol while you and your father joined Gandalf “I see that you’re back little one.” Gandalf said “Indeed, and this time She’ll be under my strict supervision so the dangerous stunt Tauriel and Legolas pulled doesn’t happen again.” Thranduil said absentmindedly pulling you onto his lap “Umm, Ada!” You said making him realize what he’s doing “One more time wouldn’t hurt.” Thranduil said digging into his breakfast with you and Gandalf doing the same with Gandalf chuckling in amusement.

During the past 2 weeks since you’ve been turned back to normal Thranduil has kept his word on you being under his strict supervision because everyday he would watch you and your new mentor (Tauriel and Legolas weren’t allowed to train you for awhile.) training on your archery skills along with your personal guards who now accompanied you 24/7 by your fathers orders and Thranduil has you with him in the throne room or with your guards, Tauriel and Legolas were also off their punishment though they ended up smelling like horses and elk for awhile along with having straw in their hair.

#platonic #the hobbit #thranduil #middle earth #mirkwood elves #legolas #tauriel #x teen!reader #elf reader #elrohir #elladan #gandalf #the lord of the rings #x y/n

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chamomiletealeaf · 7 months ago

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Guys guys guys guys I need to write a whole series on elf reader x hunter! Simon where they are like paired together on some big adventure or something and there’s just a lot of tension omg

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #elf reader #elf x human #simon ghost riley x reader

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animatorweirdo · 1 year ago

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Imagine Maedhros comforting you from a nightmare

Requested by anon

Maedhros x female elf reader, where Maedhros comforts her after she has a nightmare. Thank you 💛

Warnings: Mentions of torture, past imprisonment, death. Nightmares. Comfort. Angst. Maedhros being supportive.

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- Unfortunately for you, nightmares were a common thing.

- They have tormented you ever since you escaped the hellish caves of Angband. It was like your torture still continued even if you had long escaped the place. They weren’t bad when they first started. It was likely just your mind adjusting to the freedom, but they didn't leave after a month — they only got worse.

- Maedhros had been a dear and tried to help you. Having been a thrall himself, he understood you better than anyone. He comforted you, kept you company, and even tried ways that helped him deal with his nightmares.

- However, despite your efforts to use calming teas, scented candles, medicine to prevent you from dreaming, and even trying to open up about your experiences in Angband. The nightmares only kept coming.

- They would switch between your memories to the horrible visions of torture and the fate of those who were not as lucky as you. Sometimes – they even woke you up and made you question reality – If you had truly escaped Angband.

- You didn’t want to bother Maedhros as he already had a lot on his mind, running his fortress, dealing with affairs, and even with his own nightmares. You desired his presence and comfort but couldn't bring yourself to add your troubles to his list, so you kept quiet.

- You managed to keep it to yourself for some time, but apparently, you looked more tired each day, so Maedhros began to suspect.

- He started visiting you many times to check on your wellbeing. You always told him you simply didn't sleep well and claimed you would start taking naps to get enough rest for the day. It was a lie. You were afraid to see another nightmare, so you didn't even dare to take naps.

- Maedhros seemed to see through your lie and told you to come to him if the nightmares began to be too much for you.

- You appreciated his thoughtfulness, but you continued keeping to yourself. You didn't want to appear weak to him till one night -- you saw the worst possible nightmare of your life.

- It woke you shaking, crying, and nearly unable to breathe. You needed several minutes to calm down, but the nightmare had left you paranoid about the dark.

- Giving up, you decided to go to Maedhros, unable to handle the emotions that flowed out of you like a wild river.

- Maedhros often worked through the nights, so he was there to receive you when you knocked on his door.

- He let you in and made you sit on the chair. You told him what you had seen, and he looked at you with sympathy when you shared what had happened during your time in Angband.

----

Maedhros gently wrapped his arms around you and then pulled you into his embrace. You rest your head against his chest, taking in the scent of his shirt. He strokes your hair in comfort.

"It's okay. You're safe here," Maedhros said as tears began to fall from your eyes like a waterfall. You wrapped your arms around him and began to cry, clinging onto him like you would fall if you didn't. Maedhros allowed you to weep and sob in his arms.

"(Name)..." he said after your weeping began to calm down. "It's only been a couple of months since your escape. It will take more than that to heal from what you have suffered. You do not need to act strong. Take all the time you need." he softly explained. "You may rest here if you like... if it makes you feel safe," he said.

"I'm sorry..." you uttered against him. "Don't be," he hushed. "There's nothing you need to apologize for... you didn't do anything wrong. Just tell me from now on whenever you need me the most," he said as you two spent the night together in each other's comforting arms.

#maedhros #maedhros x reader #elf reader #silmarillion x reader #silm fic #maedhros headcanon #nightmares #middle earth x reader #middle earth #maedhros imagines #silmarillion imagines

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backtothefanfiction · 2 months ago

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Just to say…

I am going to post part one of a Legolas, Lord of the Rings fanfic I have been working on for a bit. Was going to post it all as one but the two towers section is getting very long so gonna divide the story by the trilogy. This is a reader insert with a universe appropriate name. Reader is half elf half man and has a complicated history with a certain elf. I am so excited to finally share, so if it’s something you’re interested in and want to be tagged, drop me a note on here and I’ll be sure to tag you when it goes live some point tomorrow.

The series is titled GREEN LEAVES as a reference of course to Legolas’s surname but also it is a play on Green Sleeves because I am an Anne Boleyn fan through and through. Anyway, can’t wait to start sharing this with you all.

#Legolas #coming soon #Legolas x reader #Legolas x you #lotr #the lord of the rings #fellowship of the ring #the two towers #return of the king #Aragorn #reader insert #fic announcement #Orlando bloom characters #my first love #childhood crush #elf reader #legolas fanfiction #Lord of the rings fan fiction

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cosmos-coma · 2 years ago

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Hey!! If it's okay for you, may I request something about elf&innocent!reader and Geralt? Like they know each other and meet often in Novigrad. She helps Geralt when he is injured and so on 🥺

Blossoms of Beggartick

A/N: Of course!! I hope this works for what you were thinking of because I absolutely loved writing this little ficlet!

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Words: ~700

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The day had felt like a sack of bricks on your mind, squishing all of your grey matter into one flat and exhausted pancake. You just couldn’t wait to get home so you could relax and unwind a bit.

As an elf, you had made the hard decision to take some time away from your people and were currently taking courses at the Oxenfurt Academy. You were already well-practiced as a healer in the use of elvish medicines but had yet to fully delve into the ways that humans and other species used theirs. There was a lot of overlap between them all, so you were making your way through your classes without too much trouble, but the three-hour lectures were starting to wear on you.

You crossed the bridge into Novigrad, bag slung over your shoulder, medical kid in hand, and made your way up the stairs to the balcony of your apartment.

“Oh..?” you paused as you noticed the beggartick blossom tucked into the door frame and the droplets of blood leading up the steps from where you came. You knew it could only mean one thing.

“Gwynbleidd?” you asked as you poked your head inside, excited to see him again after so long.

“In here…” he mumbled from the other room, sounding tired and gruff.

You set down your bag of books and brought your kit in towards the living room where you found Geralt sitting on the couch, holding a head wound that was still dripping blood- amongst other injuries.

“Oh, Geralt… you’re bleeding all over my rug,” You said with a smile as you came over to look over his wounds, fingers wrapping around his wrist as you gently but firmly pulled his hand away. You rummaged your free hand around in your kit before finding what you needed and pressing a gauze against his forehead.

He snorted, “Well that’s one way to say hello, I missed you too.” He said and rolled his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s been a little longer than usual, how are you holding up?”

You smiled and kneeled down to his level as you got to work fixing him up, your gentle and easy hands working over his already scarred and time-roughened skin. “It's good. I’m almost finished with my certificates actually.” You said with a proud smile as you handed him a mortar and pestle. “Would you crush this, please? Thank you. I actually finish this spring… but I’m thinking of sticking around for a while. How would you ever know where to find me otherwise?” You said with a bit of a playful scrunching of your nose as you spoke.

As Geralt crushed and helped you prepare what you needed, you began stitching up the wounds too deep to heal on their own properly. “You’re right on that. I’d be shit out of luck in Novigrad without you around.”

“Language, my dear Witcher,” you warned and tied off a line of stitches, straight and concise just like you had practiced hundreds of times before.

“Oh, ‘your dear Witcher’ am I..?” he teased, with a cheeky smile about him. You never understood the rumors of witchers having no emotions- dulled? Maybe. But you look at the smile he gives you now and you know the rumors can only be that. Rumors.

“Not if you keep that up.” You said with a gentle swat to his arm before taking the mortar from him, ”Thank you for your help.” You slathered the poultice over his wounds before bandaging them up with care. “There you go, all fixed up,” you said with a warm smile and stood once again, wiping your hands on the front of your dress.

“Really though…. I don't know what I would do here without you.” Geralt paused to say, his hand now wrapping around your wrist to make sure you stay beside him just a little longer.

Your smile softened and grew even wider as your free hand came up to graze his cheek. “Then it's a good thing you’ll never have to worry about that, My dear Witcher. Now rest up for a bit and then maybe you can help me get to work on dinner?”

Geralt smiled an easy smile and nodded, hand loosening away from your wrist and lingering on your hand before fully dropping away. “Of course, my little elf….”

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Taglist: @open--till--midnight @writingmysanity @dark-academia-slut

#i really loved writing this!#I wasnt 100% how you meant by innocent #but i hope this works!#writing requests #i just love getting requests it doesnt happen super often and it makes me feel like a real writer #geralt of rivia #geralt x you #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt imagine #the witcher #geralt fluff #Geralt #Elf reader #Innocent reader #geralt z rivii

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fl3shm4id3n · 2 years ago

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𝓐 𝓓𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓔𝓵𝓯

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 ��𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ ᴛᴇ ꜱᴜʟɪ ᴛꜱʏᴇʏᴋ'ɪᴛᴀɴ x ᴅᴀʟɪꜱʜ ᴇʟꜰ! ᴍᴀɢᴇ! ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: blood magic, mentions of cutting palms, demon, reader had facial tattoos, reader is between 5'1-5'3 in height, reader has pointy ears and big eyes, reader is an outcast, racisms towards elves, slur is used such as knife ears, some angst.

A/N: I always had the idea that the Omaticaya were a bit similar to the Dalish Elf from dragon age, so I thought of something involving an elf and an alien.

Masterlist

It all started with a demon, you had been in the forest doing your daily hunt for food. It should of been fast, but instead you had come across a voice. This voice sounded very nice and not so demonic, this voice had promised you knowledge not even the Clan's Keeper knew. So being the foolish child that you were, you had accepted since it sounded promising. That was a huge mistake.

When the rest of your clan had found out about what you did, they were not happy. They wanted you to leave, considered you a danger since you had made a contract with a demon and they feared you might bring the clan into it's down fall. But the Keeper did not allow this, she knew what you did was wrong, but it could of happened to anyone, you were a victim of this demon.

You had also began to practice blood magic, this kind of magic was still Taboo since it was dangerous and could attract bad luck to yourself and others. Since then, the Keeper had been keeping an eye on you, making sure that you are kept in line and not cause any danger to yourself or others, she knew that you did was wrong, but you were still a part of the Clan as well as a child.

Day by day, the other members were not afraid to show you that they disliked you for the magic you now processed. They didn't want you near them, or their children. You had been basically isolated from everyone except for the Keeper, majority of the time you were seen with her, she was the only person who didn't see you in a bad light like everyone else did. The demon had began talking to you, trying to convince you into using your magic to harm others for their mistreatment towards you, but you didn't let the demon get to you. It was understandable since the clan was afraid.

That day you had gone into the forest to clear your head from everything, you hated being the black sheep of the clan due to your new magic. You've also been learning some basic and less dangerous spells that didn't involve you cutting your palms. You had also heard of a spell that allowed you to teleport from one place to another, you had been meaning to try it, but you didn't know if this could attract demons due to the spell involving blood.

This was a risky spell, but you were curious about it, so you decided to perform it. You got your hunting knife then you began to work on the spell, as you chanted the spell you then cut your palm, allowing the blood to leave your hand. Then everything had began to shake drastically, but you didn't noticed since you were very focused on your spell, until a light had began then hit you, causing you to get knocked out.

Who knows how long you had been knocked out, all you knew that you had been asleep for a while when you woke up. You were still in the forest, but something didn't feel right about this forest, sure it was just as green as the one back home, except this place was much bigger and brighter. Could the spell had possible worked? You noticed how your palm had been healed, it must have happened while you were asleep. You thought it would be best to explore the forest, just to get a good look at it.

As you explored, you saw some unusual animals that you had never seen before, they were strange yet beautiful and colorful. You now knew that the spell had worked, this forest was not the forest that you were used too. You continued to explore, seen the different plants that you came across, they were unique and beautiful just the animals you had seen. You got a better look when you had began to climb on the trees and jumping from one to another, this place was beautiful in your eyes, maybe because you were from the forest and not the city, your clan had always avoided going to were the humans were, since they had done horrible things to your kind. You remember when you first came across a human, they had called you knifed eared and a tree huger.

What you didn't know was that you had been watched by someone. That day Neteyam had wanted to go hunting, to get away from his duties for a bit. What he didn't expect was for you to show up, he had been hiding around some bushes, trying to catch something, but you had scared it off. Then he saw you, a human? Wait, you were not human, sure you were small like one, but your features were unusual. You had pointy ears, your eyes were almost as big as his and you had face tattoos. Neteyam grew curious about you now, he had never seen anyone like you.

The whole time you had been exploring, he was right behind you, watching your every move. He also noticed your love for the forest, you were almost similar to the people, who loved and cherished the forest, except your appearance was different. Now he really wanted to know where you were for sure.

Dusk had began to show, the sky was going from that blue into one of yellow, orange and purple. You were exploring the forest, you noticed how the plants were now glowing, some more than others, It was a very pretty sight to see. Then you began to hear noises coming from the bushes.

Alarmed you got your bow that had been on your back and two arrows that your quiver that was also tied to your back. Looking around, you placed the arrow on the wood, ready to aim. Then you heard someone step out of the bushes. Right away you pointed your arrow at them, causing their figure to lift heir arms.

"It's okay, I'm not going to harm you" he said, getting closer to you. Thanks to the light you saw how tall he was, and not to mention his features. He had wide yellow eyes, his skin was blue like the sky with some stripes on the cheeks, forehead and allover his body, his ears were also big and had feline like nose. His hair was black and styled in braids that really suit him. His attire involved a loincloth, a leather waist band, an arm band and he also had a bow but he had it on his back.

You lowered your down and placed your arrow back on the quiver, but you noted that you had your hunting knife on your hip. "I apologies, I have no Idea where it I am, I was practicing a spell then something went wrong." You rambled, now feeling embarrassed. "It's okay, let me help you." Neteyam said kindly, keeping his distance to not scare you any further. "How rude of me! I'm y/n, of the Sabrae clan" You said politely, seen his look of confusion. "Sabrae? I've never heard of that clan" he said. "Oh, It's my delish clan, we live in the forest... but I don't think what that is either" you smiled shyly.

"Well, I'm Neteyam of the Omaticaya clan" he said sending you a toothy smile which made your face heat up a bit. "Nice to make your acquaintance" you said still a bit shyly, forgetting about how you were just about to shoot him. "It's already dark, it's not really safe out here, we should head to my village." Neteyam mentioned in which you replied "oh! its okay, I'm out in the woods almost all the time" you said, but Neteyam raised his non existing eyebrow. "I believe you, but here, it's not really safe." He mentioned, he was right, you didn't know these woods. "Alright then" you said.

Neteyam lead the way back to village, he was pretty fast for your comfort due to his long legs. You had to catch up as much as possible. Until finally you both arrived at a small camp. You followed behind him, seen that others like him, they eyed you and murmured in a language you didn't understand. He lead you to a much larger hut, which had people in them. A much older male, a young female and a elder.

"Where were you?" The male asked the boy who had lead you here. "I was out into the woods then I came across the her, she was lost and needed help." He pointed to you, now you got their attention. Their yellow eyes were on you now, you felt smaller then you already did. Before anyone could say anything, the older woman was the first to approach you. She looked like a leader, she must be leader due to her attire and not to mention that wisdom she carried with her. "What are you called?" she asked, in a heavy accent. While she examined your features, you answered "I'm Y/n, of the Sabrae clan" you mentioned feeling her touch your pointed ears, then she moved to your big eyes and face markings.

"I see that you're not from here" she mentioned, seen your attire. You stayed silent while she continue to look at you. "How did you end up here" she asked. "I was doing a spell, then it backfired and sent me here." You told the older woman, you felt her eyes go right through you, as if you felt her seen your soul. "I sense that you mean no harm" she asked, in which you nodded. "I see, you will be allowed to stay, my grandson will teach you our ways, but I do see that we are not very different from your kind" she mentioned. In which you nodded respectfully.

Afterwards you were introduced to his parents, Jake Sully and Neytiri, who were still a bit not very trusting of you but were willing to give you a chance. Then you met his younger siblings. Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk, they were curious when they saw you. They had seen humans but never an elf until now.

Your time with the Sullys, they were just like any other family back home. Except they didn't avoid you like the plague. You were introduced to Miles Socorro, but he prefers to be called Spider. Just like the kids he was curious about you since he's never seen an elf. The kids actually made you feel as if you were one of them, sure you were the size of a human and had different features, you weren't really any different from them.

You climbed trees, loved the forest, knew how to wield a bow, ate almost the exact same food, and so on, what really needed work was you learning the language, it was easy to learn since the dalish also had their own language. Just like how they taught you na'vi, you thought them how to speak it as well. Even though you were away from home, you still did things you'd normally do. You crafted your own clothing and arrows, hunting, worked on your magic, along with weaving other materials that perhaps the Sullys could use.

When they heard about the magic you processed, you weren't sure in showing them at first since you had a demon literately living in your head and your magic was blood magic. But it wouldn't hurt showing them some safe magic tricks. You showed them how you can manipulate some plants, creature illusions, make plants grow and so on. They were hooked in seen your magic, they were really interested in seen your perform magic tricks.

When it came to Neteyam, things were more different, besides him teaching you more about the Omaticaya, he also spent a lot of time wish you. With the excuse that he needed to teach you this or that, but anyone with common sense knows full well what his intentions are. You and him exchanged info about both your clans, along with other things. He had been the one to take you on a ride on his Ikra, it was scary since you weren't used to heights, sure you have been on tall mountains but never had you floated on the sky. Not to forget how kind he is towards you, he is kind to everyone, but when it came to you, he was just the sweetest.

He also began to give you extra arrows he makes, as well as giving you a new knife he had made for you as a welcome gift. Soon you began to think that he was actually courting you, in delish costumes gifting was part of the courting rituals. Maybe that wasn't the case, he was just being friendly, but you couldn't help but also feel some kind of attraction towards him. It also felt wrong since you were both different species, it wouldn't work. He was a Na'vi, the Son of Toruk Makto and Paluluka Makto. You were no one, you're an outcast in this land, you were just a mare dalish elf with a curse.

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nine-of-words · 1 year ago

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(Naga + Four of Swords)

M Naga x Demisexual M Elf Reader

Wordcount: 6004

Content Warnings: Old Injury/Chronic Pain, Scars, Religious Themes/Trauma, Cloacal Sex (Reader Tops); As a baseline, all Drakkith have both sets of reproductive organs and are typically bigender. Sometimes individuals choose to identify as solely one gender, as is the case with Salim in this story.

This one ran a little long, and personally I blame inherited catholic guilt.

Rain again today.

A loathsome drizzle.

You watch it patter down from your post by the door to the grand hall, the water pooling on the autumn leaf litter you haven’t had a chance to rake in days. You rub out your aching, fussy shoulder.

"My, it's really coming down out there. No end in sight.” Mother Abbess appears at your side and clicks her tongue, as if chiding the weather might make it stop. “And the station broadcast said because of the magical nature of this cold front, that it’ll carry on like this for several weeks. Weeks! Can you believe it, Ser?”

"Hmmh." You grunt in acknowledgement, not really feeling the desire to socialize; the burning ache from your shoulder to the fingertips on your casting hand- your former casting hand- is more than enough to turn you off from pleasant conversation. The rain only makes the aching and the stiffness worse.

"Perhaps it'd be smart to prepare some of the extra beds, just to be safe?" She says thoughtfully, in her usual cheery, warm tone. "Any travelers unfortunate enough to be caught on the road now will want to shelter here until this awful downpour finally stops."

You came to this temple to recover from the injury that took you out of service. Once a knight-sorcerer, you’re now, technically speaking, only a knight, and a very underworked one, at that.

You used to be able to help people. Now you are another glorified doorstop, guarding a sleepy temple that not a single beast nor bandit has dared to touch in the time you’ve been here. They seem to be repelled from the place, regardless of your presence.

The longer you’re here, the more you realize your recuperation time seems to not have an end. You come to suspect that you’ve been left here to rot.

You let out a long, withering sigh. You’re still far too young to have been politely yet forcibly retired in everything but name- shoved in a corner to collect dust. But while you crave the bloodrush of combat, you know that realistically, you would not be able to hold up the way you are now.

Evening meal time rolls around, the chattering of the young initiate priestesses carrying over even to the end of the long table where you solemnly eat.

“No, that’s impossible. You’re just making things up for attention-”

“I’m telling you, it’s haunted!”

Then Mother Abbess joins the table, interest sharply piqued.

“What’s this silly business I hear about ghosts in the temple? You know, our good knight goes to great lengths to make sure the temple is safe for all of us.” The older woman turns her attention to you with a playful smile; what you now know is her way of trying to rope you into joining in on the conversation, like a mother trying to goad her shy child into speaking up. “Have you seen any ghouls or spectres on your patrols lately, Ser?”

“Not one.” You shake your head, then continue to chew in silence.

“See ladies, there’s nothing to worry about!”

“No Mother, not the temple- the crypt. It’s coming from inside the tomb! We heard it!!”

“Hilde and I went to refresh the altar for the dead, like you asked, but- oh, the sounds! Banging, scraping, groaning like pain! It was far too terrifying. We ran back before we could even think of finishing.”

“Well, that’s no good. This certainly isn’t the time of year to slack on honoring the dead, either.” She taps her chin in thought with the hand not holding her spoon. “Ser, do you think you might be able to go check the crypt after supper? So we might have some peace of mind.”

Obedient as always, after you’ve eaten, you re-don your armor just in case, and slog out into the rain and water-logged mud, towards the temple for your obligatory ghost hunt.

You’re not going to find any ghosts, you’re sure. At most, perhaps a weak, trapped lesser spirit that can’t even communicate properly- but even that seems unlikely. At least the younger residents of the temple will be able to sleep soundly at night; that is enough of a reason for you.

The main door hangs ajar, left to creak as the wind moves it back and forth.

You click your tongue. The young sisters must’ve fled in such a hurry they left the door open. Still, you steel yourself and sharpen your senses despite the lack of obvious threat, just as your training has taught you.

You light the lamp and kick the excess mud from your boots before you descend the stone stairs into the darkness. You’ll take a look around, then you’ll be back up to the dry warmth of your bed, trying to sleep through the dull pain in your arm.

Inside, the crypt is dark, damp, and smells of old incense and lamp oil. The only thing that lives here is spiders and mold, surely. But the echo of your footsteps and the haunted atmosphere makes you feel starkly like you’re not alone here.

But in your search, you find nothing amiss. You only find the silence of the dead. Whatever was here must be long gon-

A noise in the silence, like a pained voice.

Was that a groan?

The hairs on your neck stand on end, your pupils constrict, sweat beads on your forehead. Your heart starts racing, gripped by a cold fist of terror.

Your good hand flies to the hilt of your sword.

“REVEAL YOURSELF!” You boom into the supposedly empty crypt, projected voice reverberating off the stone walls.

You are an extensively trained, battle hardened knight. Few things can shake you.

But perhaps you were wrong to doubt the young priestesses, this time-

The cold-burning torches in the chamber seem to flicker all at once.

Stone grinds on stone. The lid of a nearby sarcophagus moves in front of your eyes.

Your hand clutches the gas lamp, feeling your knuckles go white under your gauntlet, watching the stone lid continue to move back. You expect to see some spectral or skeletal hand rise from the gap, someone long dead disturbed from their eternal slumber.

You half-pull your sword from its sheath, ready to deliver this revenant to its second death as soon as the rest of your body breaks out of your fear induced paralysis.

Instead of a translucent or rotting set of digits, though, a slender, intact and solid olive-skinned hand reaches out, grasping aimlessly, followed by the other one.

“What in the Lady’s name-” You sputter, trying to make sense of the seemingly living person currently inhabiting the tomb.

With a pained groan, the rest of their body rises out of the dusty sarcophagus. They’re wobbling fiercely, barely able to support their own weight, but you get a good look at them.

Smooth, cinderous dark brown hair. Sleepy, heavily lashed, almond shaped eyes. Expensive looking clothing far too thin and flimsy for proper insulation needed for the beginning of the wet, cold autumn in the Rowenian wilds.

…And the bottom half of a serpent? Specifically, scales of a vibrant gradient of variated oranges and yellows, with splotchy black stripes running horizontally down, from trunk to tail.

You know people like this exist, but you’ve never interacted with one in person, even in your travels during active duty. A type of the dragon-people. Naga, if you recall correctly.

“What in the blazes are you doing in this crypt, serpent?”

“Pleassssse-” Their voice trails off weakly, slurring and nearly incoherent, grabbing at you in desperation. “Heeeelp.”

Desire to help those in need wins out over your own hesitance and shock and perhaps small bias, and you reach out the arm that they seem to be gravitating towards, despite it being your bad one. Their skin is cold as ice where they hold onto your neck for balance, their thin clothing still damp and clinging to them.

They immediately collapse against your body, laying their face on your shoulder. You can’t help but think that the weight feels good against your plate. When was the last time you were touched like this…?

You can’t remember.

You quickly shake the thought away. There are more pressing matters.

You help them back to the temple, through the soggy ground. Mother Abbess and the rest of the priestesses still milling about after supper are surprised to say the least, and you set the stranger to rest in front of the main fireplace in the dining hall, hopefully sufficiently fulfilling their request for heat.

After Mother Abbess has shooed away the rest of the prying eyes and only you, her and the new visitor remain, she addresses them.

“Let me fetch you some hot broth and some blankets, dear. That will help you warm up while we have a chat.”

You watch the naga closely, arms crossed and feet planted, while Mother Abbess goes to retrieve some broth from the kitchens. Given the naga’s incapacitated state, you doubt they could be a threat right now even if they tried, but you are trained to be ready for one, regardless.

After a few minutes, they shudder and stretch out their limbs, seeming to come back to life a bit. They turn their head to look at you, the sharp lines of their features backlit by the fire.

“Here you are, dear.” She hands them the wooden bowl full of heated broth.

“Thaaaank youuuu.”

A long, slender black tongue creeps out from between their lips and dips into the liquid, sampling it with a gentle flutter.

Seemingly finding it to their liking, they retract their tongue and start to sip from the edge of the bowl like a civilized person.

Then they smile at you, as if to silently address the fact that you’re staring, making your face flush in uncharacteristic bashfulness. Prickly heat creeps up the back of your neck- from standing so close to the fireplace in plate armor and nothing else, you’re sure.

“My name issss… Sssssalim. I am a man… and a healer by trade.” He manages to speak slowly, his voice gradually losing the harsh hissing noise and settling into a more subtle, faint accent as he pulls himself together. “Thank you for the… assisssstance…”

Mother Abbess gives him a brief introduction to the temple, herself, and even you, much to your chagrin.

“However did you come to be inside our temple’s crypt, Salim?”

“I had paid a merchant to transssport me through the mountains, for a job placement from the order I have waiting in the city. But during a break for the oxen… I spotted some mushrooms that are an essential ingredient for a rare curative balm, so I went off to collect them… The merchant seemed to have left me behind during that time,” He recounts the story, surprisingly even-tempered while recalling it when he’s described essentially what amounts to paying someone to leave you to die in the woods. “I wandered for what must have been days, it started raining… it didn’t stop raining… then I saw the stone marker for the temple… it seems as if I took the wrong door in, but by then I was too dazzzed by the cold to find my way out… but I got here all the same.”

He lets out a hiss of a laugh at his own folly, a sound you can’t help but find downright charming.

…Charming? What’s gotten into you this evening?

“Oh, what an unfortunate experience you’ve had! Good thing we prepared those spare beds in the guest dormitory earlier.” Mother Abbess beams, placing a wrinkled hand on her sternum. “The good knight will show you where you can sleep, Salim. You’re free to stay here as long as you need.”

He thanks her profusely for the hospitality, and then they indulge in a bit of idle chatter which quite honestly, you could do without. Once he seems to have recovered enough to move around, you escort him to the guest dormitory.

“You will sleep here.” You say curtly as you direct him to one of the made-up bunks closest to the small hearth in the guest hall you stoked earlier. Then, before you can even second guess why you’re saying it, add; “Do not even consider sneaking into the sisters' dormitory, or I will not hesitate to cut you down.”

“Ah, that won’t be a problem- if you’re implying what I think you are.” They say in the most polite manner possible for such an unprompted accusation. Their black tongue flickers in consideration, seeming to taste the air like any other snake’s would. “Even if I had nefarious intentions… There’s nothing that suits my particular interests to be found there…”

“Right.” You say, then think to yourself; Perhaps he only finds others of his kind suitable as potential mates.

…Good.

Over the next few days, Salim seems to begin to make himself right at home at the temple. He enjoys spending time in the library and chatting with the sisters in the dining hall, while you prefer to spend your time as far away as you can while still keeping a watchful, distrustful eye on him.

…Only for the sake of security, of course.

Despite him claiming he has no interest in them, the young priestesses are all a bit too interested in him for your liking. Instead of their usual chatter when not doing their duties, they’ve started gathering to listen to stories about his travels with the rapt attention a child would give a shiny new toy, or a schoolgirl would dote on their first crush.

If you thought that Mother Abbess trying to force you to socialize was bad before, you now know the strife of having to endure conversations with Salim, as well. It’s nearly every time he lays eyes on you, it feels like, with the curious looks and the incessant questions.

His presence in the temple makes you feel… strange.

Wrong, somehow. A benign sort of malaise.

You try to bury it, and just go about your normal routine.

Mother Abbess has the bright idea to enlist Salim into doing health check-ups while he’s here, which he readily agrees to do as gratitude for the aid he’s already received. Over the next few days, everyone has had their turn having a physical, while you have been conveniently busy every time that you might be called to have yours done.

But as the rain continues to pour without signs of relenting, and the surrounding wilderness grows saturated and flooded, the aches and pains are only getting worse and worse, harder to ignore by the day. It hadn’t interfered with your duties yet, but one day, you finally slip up. The Mother Abbess finds you struggling to collect the stack of dry firewood you’ve dropped across the stone floor of the main hall, then proceeds to tear into you in her characteristic, most loving of ways.

"-And don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re avoiding having your physical. But you need to have your injury looked at, at least! It has been causing you pain; I see you struggling with it, even if you hide it well, Ser." Mother Abbess scolds you after helping you to pick up the logs, complete with finger wagging. "We finally have a healer in the temple again after old Mother Alys passed, so stop being so stubborn and make use of his services while he's here! He may only be here until the rain lets up, as far as we know- and then you’ll have lost the opportunity completely. You will go, if I have to see you there myself!"

“Yes, Mother.” You grumble out your reluctant agreement. As much as you wish it wasn't true in this case, she rarely guides you wrong. “Escorting me will not be necessary. I will go of my own accord.”

"It would not hurt you to make a friend, either.” She adds, emotionally kicking you in the ribs while you’re down. “There is nothing in the scripture forbidding having a friend."

Obedient as you are, you force yourself to pay him a visit in the quiet, mostly unused infirmary. You part the privacy curtain, walls drawn up and ready to get through this experience- but instead you’re met with a precious sight.

Salim seems to have fallen asleep in the padded chair in the corner of the room near the hearth, serpentine lower body coiled up around himself, a book propped in the dip between layers of scaled tail.

He finally seems to wake. Warm toned eyes blink open, their pupils constricting into lines as they take you in.

“Oh, why hello. My last patient finally arrives…” Salim yawns and rubs at one eye. “It was so quiet and serene back here, and the fire so pleasant- It seems I couldn't help but doze off…”

He rises lithely and arches his back like a cat waking up from a good nap in a sunny spot. The book on his chest slides down his body, seemingly forgotten.

Reflexes sharp as ever, your hand snaps out to catch the book before it falls. You don’t need to read the title to recognize it, but you skim it anyway.

Lady Night’s Good Knight, and Other Courtly Tales

You’re very familiar with this book- it’s a collection of old knight’s tales, simple parables that are intended to be bedtime stories for children. What is he doing reading this, of all things? You would assume a healer as erudite as he’s shown himself to be would be reading one of the numerous dusty old historical manuscripts or books cataloging flora and fauna of the area.

“Oh! Have you read this book before?” He gestures to the tome you’re now pondering in your hands. “I found it in the library and was far too intrigued to pass it over.”

“Back when I was a boy and not once since.”

“The tales inside are quaint, but enjoyable. I had never given knighthood much thought before coming here, but I admit I’m quite intrigued by the idea now. …Back home, there are no knights. Or I suppose everyone who is physically able is a knight, in some regard- it depends on how strictly one considers the definition of chivalry.”

“A kingdom full of knights sounds like a blasted nightmare.” You find yourself speaking far too candidly before you can stop, remembering what your more active days in the order were like. “That’s a recipe for far too many pissing contests for my liking. Everyone wants to ride in and play hero, and not a soul can fill out a single page of paperwork.”

“Healers never want to do their paperwork either.” Salim’s face lights up in amusement, a soft hissing laugh escaping his lips. You experience a short moment of pride that you’ve made him laugh, followed by that strange feeling- some mix of joy and terror and confusion filling you once again.

Suddenly a ball of nerves forms in your stomach, realizing you’re about to let him touch you.

“Let us get this over with quickly,” You gripe, setting the book on the end table and taking a seat in the chair across from him. “I still have duties to see to before night falls.”

“Of course.” He says politely, and efficiently prepares what he needs to get down to business.

It’s a needlessly vexing experience; being poked and prodded, performing tricks on command like a well-trained hound, with Salim uttering the occasional hum that may be a good hum or a bad hum, for all you know- And the invasive sensation of his hand on your chest to auscultate your heartbeat and breathing has your skin prickling under your collar.

“My, are you a wonderful specimen. Steady heartbeat, clear lungs, good color to your gums.” Salim praises you after he’s finished examining your general health with the medical kit still left over from the old healer. He now motions for you to undo your shirt. “You are an exceptionally healthy man. Barring this one glaring area, it would seem. Let us take a look…”

You hesitate, but you relent and untie your loose, simple linen shirt just enough to slip your arm out of the sleeve. One hand gently slinks up the back of your firm upper arm, the other holding your elbow.

It’s a dreadful, ugly thing, your bad arm. Discolored and shiny from the healed burn from your fingertips all the way to your clavicle. To make things somehow more ghastly, the veins on your arm are ruddy black and fully visible from where the overloaded mana scorched through your blood.

"And your magic is fire." He says, a statement, not a question, as he manipulates your arm to inspect the way your scarring behaves. "Mine, as well."

You can already tell his alignment is fire; if not clear from the familiar hum within you in acknowledgement, it is clear from the pleasant smell of recently extinguished candle that seems to always permeate his general vicinity.

"It was. Why does it matter?"

"The raw power still radiating from this…" The way he looks at your arm feels almost reverent, his eyes glimmering. "You would have been quite the sight to behold, were you not? Before all of this damage."

“Does this endless prattle have a meaning?” You say, your nerves forever raw when it comes to this subject. “What are you seeking?”

"I simply thought since we share the same mana alignment, that you'd enjoy speaking about it. And that we could perhaps come to know each other better…" He hopefully looks up his brow at you, still holding your arm aloft in his elegant hands as he inspects you like some piece of meat for slaughter.

You grit your teeth, pulling your scarred limb away.

“My magic was a gift from the Lady. Now, it is gone- Revoked. Of course I don’t want to dwell on that fact. What more is there for me to say about it?”

"...I apologize if I have caused any negative feelings to resurge. I only wished to propose… a mutually beneficial arrangement between us. We could be of great assistance to one another, even share some comfort-"

"I don't want or need your comfort," You snap, pulling your shirt sleeve back on, confusion at your own feelings bubbling up into anger. "Unless it's bloody healing. Can you help with this pain or not?"

"I am capable, and the solution is related. Being a sorcerer, your mana is continuing to generate internally- perhaps moreso than normal to overcompensate for the weather. However, the damage to your arm is preventing the natural release of that unused accumulation, also due to the weather. Due to the age of your injury, I'm sure you already are familiar with the treatment for this particular predicament; Siphoning.” Salim pauses, waiting until he sees your nod in understanding before continuing. “…While my own mana stores have not fully recovered from my jaunt through the woods, not in such damp conditions as these. So, I could take this excess from you, through touch… If that was a prospect you found appealing…"

“I do not.” You say, standing to depart so abruptly that the chair scrapes the stone loudly. “I will wait this out, just as I always do.”

“I do not think that is very wise...” Salim says grimly. You see concern etched in his features.. “But I would never force a patient to accept treatment.”

You don't want to think of it. Nor do you want to think about why your heart starts racing when you are close to him, or why your eyes always seem to catch on the sheen of his scales like they do on a well polished blade, or why the simple act of a gentle examination of your weakest part feels so good, so right, when he was the one doing it.

Giving up the chance to have a wife or a family never felt much like a loss when you were first training to be a knight. You had never felt much desire for one or the other, either way. But now… you finally feel this carnal sort of desire… and it’s for some monstrous serpentine abomination.

Another test of your virtue? Fine. You won’t give in.

Cold, wet days pass into cold, wet nights. Tonight you lie in your bed awake, overheating from the inside out, the blazing heat radiating from your arm. Your good hand clutches at your shoulder, knuckles white from the grip as your writhe, blankets fully kicked off and biting a spare scrap of leather to keep from waking the whole temple with your screams.

This is certainly the worst flare up you've ever had, the old scar burning nearly as terribly as it did the day the explosion happened, when a magical attack overloaded your system and destroyed the ability for your own mana to properly cycle through your body. A broken circuit.

Typically flare ups only happen around excess of the corresponding element. But in such oversaturated conditions of the opposing element- in your case, the water in all this blasted rain- what remains of your mana becomes volatile, trying to overcompensate for your surroundings with nowhere to naturally leech off to.

But you are strong. You can weather this pain, like you have time and time before…

It just needs to pass already.

So close to the brink of being driven to complete madness by the torment, you almost fail to notice the door to your chambers slowly creaking open. The only light filtering in is from the window, as you've left your hearth unlit to avoid making your pain worse. But even in the low light, you can recognize those undulating movements anywhere now.

"...I can feel the energy cresting all the way from my bunk," Salim's soft, worried voice says from the shadows- as if it was ever going to be someone else, slithering into your private chambers in the dead of night. "Please… allow me to help you."

"Fine! Fine. Do what you will to me, serpent," You growl, barely snarling back tears as the leather strap falls from your gritted teeth. "Just make it stop."

You expect maybe for him to come to your bedside and lay his hands on your arm from there, but instead you feel the weight of Salim slithering into your bed beside you.

He entangles your arm with his upper body, pulling your hand towards his face to gently cup his cheek, your forearm tight against his body in its bent position. Every part of his exposed skin that he can feasibly manipulate into touching yours finds its way there; arms, hands, chest. Even his long tail winds itself around one of your legs.

Normally being pinned by another person’s weight like this might cause you to want to escape from the claustrophobic feeling, but it doesn’t seem to appear this time, only a strange sense of security after all the thrashing in pain you’ve been doing this evening. You find a comfort in it that you didn’t know you could crave.

The heat in your arm continues to grow, but it flows with purpose now. The molten energy flees your body, in favor of migrating into the naga’s body instead.

Sweeping tingles run over the surface of your skin in waves, wherever it has contact with his. The sensation is so overwhelming, almost like the ground falling out from below you, despite laying securely on a bed, but with an added layer of temperature fluctuating wildly.

Then… Relief. Finally, some modicum of relief.

This is what your sword must’ve felt when the blacksmith pulled it out of the forge, you hazily decide.

You're nearly euphoric in the simple absence of the white-hot needles jabbing into your flesh from the inside. It might as well be ecstasy, compared to what you’ve been enduring.

Thank the Lady- you think to yourself, before correcting yourself mentally. No, she gets sufficient enough praise the rest of the time. This time, it is 'thank Salim'.

You barely have the sense to care that that’s probably blasphemy, blinking the rims of your eyelids dry. Your heaving breaths finally start to even out into their normal, resting rate of rise and fall.

Finally in a calm, bearable state, you become acutely aware that you're now left in this close, pointedly intimate embrace with him. Shining starkly in the darkness, his irises have started to glow in a saturated vermillion hue, no doubt from the copious amount of magical energy he’s just taken in.

"This should suffice," Salim finally says, sounding sleep-drunk from all of the warmth of the mana he’s absorbed. He seems hesitant to actually let your arm go and depart, still holding your hand to his face, fingers weaved in yours. "I can leave now, if you wish."

"I do not wish for you to go." You admit, taking nearly all of your strength to keep your voice from shaking in fear of what that means.

"Oh?" He traces the fingers on his free hand down the inside of your forearm. How pleasing that simple pressure feels on the parts of your body usually used to the weight of heavy armor- which is most of it.

The feeling of the smooth, bare skin of his chest on your arm is just too enticing to let go, and your resolve crumbles.

The temptation is finally too much, and you're overtaken by the desire that's been gnawing at you despite your attempts to quash it.

You seize him at the back of the neck, pressing your mouth to his.

Salim seems shocked into stillness for a moment, before he relaxes in your grip, moaning his approval into your open, greedily searching mouth, and grasping the back of your own head with his hand. His fingers immediately catch in your hair, the sensation sending a flash of pleasure over your over-sensitive nerve endings.

That long tongue you've thought about so much over the last several days glides across yours, winding around your own like his long serpentine tail is wound up between your legs, coiling around you.

Your free hand searches his side, grabbing anywhere you can find purchase. You want to take in everything; the sensation of soft skin that you know, though starved of, but also the new, enthralling sensation of hard reptilian plate underneath your fingers. It's smooth and rigid, yet still malleable as his dense muscles move underneath.

You trace every crevice and crest you can reach where scale meets plate meets skin, investigating all the differences in texture. His body is positively drenched in warmth now- your warmth- and hot to the touch underneath your hands.

The solid feeling of Salim's tail between your legs feels dangerously good. You find yourself grinding against him to meet the rolling movements of his hips, already this close but desperately wanting to be closer, somehow.

You don't have to see it to know the thin linen sleeping trousers you wear to bed are not concealing anything at this point. The fabric is pulled taut against your arousal, barely even forming a barrier between the smooth plates of Salim's underbelly.

You barely feel any shame now, brazenly rubbing your hard cock against him. It simply feels too good to be embarrassed about at this point.

"This isn't a result of mana," Salim rasps in a moment taken to breathe, lips still hovering over yours. You can feel his dexterous fingers fiddle with the laces, and his tongue flicking at your neck. "But I can treat this heat as well…"

"Please," You growl.

Salim quickly loosens the laces just enough to push the fabric down as much as he'll need to, every minute trace of contact stoking your desperate need.

The darkness doesn't deter him all. His darkvision clearly must be better than yours- making lining up the wet, soft crevice between his belly scales with your waiting member trivially easy.

You can barely contain your excitement as your throbbing cock catches on the edge of his slick vent. The only thing you've felt before has been your own hand, in the times when you've needed release. You need to know how being squeezed inside him feels.

Salim doesn’t even extract himself from the coiled embrace he has you in, nor shift his weight. Once he is sure he's got the tip lined up where it needs to be, he simply starts pressing his hips flush to yours, taking you in.

A low, incomprehensible noise of approval escapes him as presses himself forward, all the way to the hilt. His fingertips grip at your chest while your own seek purchase in the dips of his hips.

Your jaw clenches involuntarily. He's hot, almost unbearably so. You knew he would be, but you weren't ready for the sensation of being enveloped by such sweltering, magically augmented heat.

If the siphoning felt like your sword being pulled from the forge, this is being plunged back into it.

Your lack of experience doesn’t seem to matter anywhere near what you thought it would, not with Salim doing most of the hip movements. You thrust forward as much as being on your side and wound up by him allows, not content to be completely idle.

You're not going to last long like this, but you’ve got to try.

The writhing continues, locked in a slightly damp, molten knot of limbs and starved kisses, until you’re clenching every muscle just to let it continue a bit longer. The grip of Salim’s tail only gets tighter and tighter, until it culminates with a series of forceful contractions around every part he has you captive. That does you in, your own pelvic muscles violently tightening as Salim’s hole saps you of everything you have to give.

Afterwards, Salim doesn’t say anything, but the ragged breathing into your neck is just as good as any words he could say, anyway.

You lie there, skin still tingling all over with heat and a burn deep in your muscles- a pleasant kind in comparison. Eventually you drift off in the darkness, still holding a firm grip on the serpentine body entangled with you about the hips.

You sleep like the dead.

When you wake in the morning you feel revitalized, like you're a new man.

It doesn’t take you long to notice your visitor from last night is nowhere to be seen. You briefly consider if it was all a lewd, feverish, hallucinatory dream…

Only it couldn't have been a dream- your arm is nearly devoid of pain as you clench a fist and flex your muscles, and you can still hear the rain pattering against your chambers' window.

Just as a small twinge of panic starts to set in, you hear someone slip into your chambers.

It’s exactly who you expect it to be, and he’s carrying what looks like two servings of warm breakfast on a tray. When your eyes meet, his mouth curls into an enigmatic smile.

“Good morning.”

“There was no need to coddle me like this.” You protest, sitting up in bed as he sets the tray down on your desk and takes a seat on the paired wooden stool. “I’m perfectly capable of making it to the dining hall.”

"You are sorely in need of time to recover… I've told the Mother that you are to do nothing but rest today."

"And I'm sure she found that terribly agreeable." You say, running your hand down your face in frustration. She's constantly chiding you to take more breaks as it is, and now she has reinforcements.

"Of course she did. Healer's orders," Salim says very seriously, though the glimmer in his eyes is clearly playful. "Though perhaps, depending on how you're feeling now… you may require additional treatment..."

Despite the exasperation, you can’t stop the twitch of a smile on your lips.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster romance #monster lover #monster x reader #naga #naga x reader #male monster #male reader #elf reader #knight reader #mlm #mxm #oc: salim #oc: ser benoit #tarot oneshots #nine of words

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shirefantasies · 6 months ago

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I wanna kiss Feren and comb his hair while he relaxes after a long day 😞 he looks so tired of everything (Love Thranduil but I would be on my last strand of sanity if I worked for him too)

I also feel like he greatly adores cats, like he's definitely snuck a kitten into work because he couldn't leave it all alone

You know what? Yes. Also, ✨two posts✨ from drafts this week because this one is so small (gif by @lokidlaufeyson, will delete from here if asked to!)

Breathe You In- Feren x Elf!Reader Drabble

Not an uncommon sight was it to catch Feren with a look of exasperation or even exhaustion upon his face. The king may have been fair, not quick to inflict harsh punishments upon his people, but that did not preclude him from making streams of demands, words which sent Feren this way and that, often after to inquire after or warn the prince. Certainly it came about due to Thranduil’s trust of your beloved-a status you were unsure the woodland king was even aware of- but sometimes you just wished you could march up to the great throne and tell him to quit treating such a wonderful and capable soul like an errand boy.

As he sat upon the bed, Feren breathed quite the sigh, shaking his head. “I must have ran across the entire kingdom and back today.”

Hands falling to his shoulders, you ran them lightly down, applying a bit of pressure and feeling tension melt from his muscles beneath it. With a look of bliss, he turned his head to meet your eyes, and the both of you shut your eyes and melted together into a kiss the moment gazes locked. Your hand slide down to run along his toned chest, his breaths coming slowly and languidly as your long kiss.

Feren held you against his forehead with a hand as you disconnected, both of you drawing a longer breath in unison. Clear as it was by his sudden grip what Feren's desire was, there you remained, hand over his heart and lungs filling with his air as it mingled with yours.

Finally, you broke the silence. "Turn around, my love."

Obeying, Feren rotated, shifting to accommodate you as you loosened his cape and set it aside, taking instead his flowing locks of brown hair and draping them like a long, silky curtain along the line of his spine. You felt a slight tense of protest beneath his tunic when your hands lifted from his body completely, but they returned posthaste, an ivory comb in hand. Fingers running delicately through his soft hair, you pursued each motion with the teeth of the comb, one never catching the other before another lock was taken in hand. Once again, you felt your beloved's body melt against you.

"Tell me more about your day," you encouraged, voice soft, "unless you would rather not."

You feel Feren sigh before you hear it. "Oh," he waved a hand, "so first I am sent to speak on behalf of the king to some suppliers of some sort-"

Smiling softly, you shook your head a bit, reaching over to the nightstand to dab some oil on your hands and humming disapprovingly at the obstinate shipmen. Your home was never short of stories, that was certain, you reflected as you worked the oil through Feren's hair.

"...But it was all worth it to come home to you, my darling."

"Oh, you flatterer."

"No," taking your face in his hands, Feren shook his head, his dark eyes fixed firmly upon yours, "verily. I mean it, that were I not so lucky in your companionship, your unyielding love and care, I am quite sure Thranduil would have driven me mad by now. Thank you for loving me."

"It is the easiest thing on this earth to do," you whispered back, leaning in closer and pecking his lips, "but you are more than welcome, my dear."

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit headcanons #feren #feren x reader #elf reader #drabble #ask #anon

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cilil · 2 years ago

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AN: @edensrose remember when I told you the horny threads are always at risk of being turned into random fics? well. here you go. this is what you get for refusing to drink water and thirsting for bird dad💙

shout out to my co-conspirator @singleteapot for motivating me to write this and helping me out!

˳༄꠶ Taking care of you ˳༄꠶

Pairing: Manwë/femElf!reader

Synopsis: Reader is a poet and one of the Vanyar, yet her works are not the only things Manwë finds delightful about her. He decides to make sure she's well taken care of.

Featuring: Cuddling, kissing, some smut, Manwë gently enforcing a little self-care session, POV 2nd person

Short oneshot (~1.2k words)

"You have not been properly taking care of yourself, little dove."

You shift on Manwë's lap as he scolds you, worried that he's displeased with you. Thankfully his tone is soft and there's a sparkle of mirth in his eyes when you look up to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine, my lord," you insist, but he merely shakes his head in response and reaches for the glass of water placed on the nightstand next to his bed.

"You forget that little is hidden from my eyes, especially within my own halls. Now drink."

You pout a little and consider refusing, but his mien and the warm wing draped over you make you reconsider. Manwë is gentle as always, but there's a certain firmness in his demeanor that lets you know he means it. Lowering your gaze in defeat, you accept the water he hands you.

"My lord, I'm flattered, but you don't need to concern yourself with my wellbeing," you utter one more protest before he places his hands over yours to guide the glass to your lips.

Ever since your first time being invited to one of the poetry nights Manwë likes to host for Elves and Ainur alike, he has been showing a particular interest in you, welcoming you into his halls more and more often and having his birds deliver little gifts to you. It didn't take long until you found yourself spending time with him alone as well, sharing stories and conversing for hours on end, wrapped in the warm, loving embrace of his arms and wings. Like you were doing until a few minutes ago.

You stop drinking and lower the glass to take a break, only for Manwë to present you with a few pieces of chocolate.

"Here. For you," he coos in your ear. "And promise me you won't skip dinner again to work on your next poem."

"How do you–"

You freeze for a moment, then realize he must've been keeping an eye on you for a while now and continue to enjoy the treat he's giving you. Manwë's fána is so wonderfully warm, tall and strong, and you feel like you could spend ages just sitting in his lap and snuggling up to him, enjoying the safety and comfort of his presence.

"So good for me, my favorite little poet," he praises you and you blush; being complimented by the Elder King himself is something you have yet to get used to.

You make sure to empty the glass once you're done eating and are rewarded with a bright, approving smile. No matter how grumpy you are, Manwë always manages to make you soft and do as he says.

His hands let go of yours as you put the glass away and roam your upper body instead while lowering his head to nuzzle your hair and kiss your parting.

"You know that I love your writing, my darling dove, but it breaks my heart to see you working day and night and being so hard on yourself," he says, pulling you as close as he can.

"But I do so gladly, my lord," you reply, allowing yourself to lean against his chest, sinking into soft feathers and the fabric of his robes. It feels like lying down on top of a cloud.

Manwë gingerly tilts your chin upwards to pepper your face with little kisses.

"And I am glad that you enjoy yourself, yet today you will rest," he says. His tone makes it clear that the matter is not up for debate.

"As you wish."

Your breath hitches in your throat when he pauses to admire your face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. His touches begin to make you feel heated, and you wish for him to continue kissing and touching you.

"Would you like to be rewarded for being such a good girl for me?" Manwë croons, leaning down to let his breath ghost over your skin.

"Yes, my lord. Please."

A smile graces his lips before he leans down to kiss you, tender at first, then with more and more passion as he takes his time exploring. Your heart flutters, and the heat inside you grows even stronger, causing you to press your body against his fána and wrap your arms around his neck. You continue kissing him back until you are almost out of breath and feel him lifting you up from his lap to place you on the bed.

Before you know what's happening, he lies down next to you and draws you into his embrace again. A warm hand slips underneath your dress, eliciting a surprised gasp from you.

"My lord–"

"Hush, little dove."

Manwë is still smiling, but his eyes hold a mischievous glint and his pupils dilate, an unmistakable sign that he's enjoying himself greatly.

"When I said that little is hidden from my eyes, I wasn't merely referring to your long hours of writing..."

His fingers caress the inside of your thigh, steadily wandering upwards.

"I also saw how many hours you spent dreaming about me, my name on your lips as you composed poems about love and passion..."

A tiny whimper escapes your lips when he starts tracing your folds through your panties. Your arousal is palpable by now, your body eagerly responding to Manwë's touch; and how could you not succumb to that radiant smile, those beautiful sapphire eyes, the divine beauty of the Elder King himself.

"Seeing you yearn for me was delightful, yet it cannot compare to how sweet and lovely you are right now," he whispers and slips one finger underneath the fabric of your panties to slowly push inside you.

"I want to hear you saying my name, like you did when you thought of me. Can you do that for me, my darling dove?"

"Y-yes... my lord... Manwë..." you manage, and he rewards you with a kiss.

"So beautiful, so good for me..."

Another finger enters you, and you allow sweet noises of pleasure to fall from your lips. They seem to be music to Manwë's ears, encouraging him to move faster and push deeper inside you. Reflexively, you spread your legs wider for him and move your hips, desperate for more.

Images from your dreams make their way into your mind, fantasies about riding his cock while he sits on his throne, being held down and shoved into the sheets of his bed while he fucks you, choking on his cock while you pleasure him, eager to taste the essence of the Vala you adore so much. You want to beg him to take you, but your ability to formulate any coherent thoughts and voice them is taken from you by Manwë rubbing your clit with his thumb, happily drawing more moans and gasps from you.

"M-Man... wë–"

A broken whisper of his name is all you manage before your back arches off the bed and your hips buck against his hand. It doesn't take long for you to come undone around his fingers, whimpering into his chest, your body going limp in his arms. After so many hours of dreaming and fantasizing, you simply couldn't help yourself, yet you are still embarrassed that the Elder King saw through you so easily.

"You see, little dove, if you don't take good care of yourself I have to make sure you do better," Manwë coos, withdrawing his hand and tucking your head underneath his chin.

"And rest assured, next time you might not receive a reward so easily, so be a good girl for me, will you?"

tag list: @eunoiaastralwings @edensrose

masterlist | tag list form

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years ago

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Hello hello! Could I request Ink Bendy x elf reader? Maybe she heard of everything awful that had went down at the studio and wanted to help him heal from all the trauma? Maybe she brought him home to let him hug her and hold onto her as long as he needed?

'Huh..I wasn't expecting to find any Christmas spirit down here..but I guess some folks are still holding onto it,' you mused as you ventured through the inky realm of Joey Drew Studios.

Everywhere you looked, there were Christmas trees, decorations, and presents all around.

Unfortunately nothing here was colorful, being only in sepia tones. It seemed like you stepped straight into a 1930s cartoon, but clearly this place was anything but happy like one.

There were sad inky people all around, wearing santa hats as if it could help them feel at least some holiday cheer. Yet their attitudes remained the same: hopeless, lost..and even angry. Any one you tried talking to would only snap at you, or mutter about an evil ink demon stalking them.

It proved to be useless no matter how much optimism you showed.

You barely escaped the clutches of one inky person who was half-melted and barely looked human anymore. Its hollow eyes and horrid groans scared you into hiding inside a small locker that so-happened to be along your escape path.

Being an elf, small spaces weren’t any problem for you. But you knew you couldn't hide forever, as you were on an important mission.

Yep. You didn’t stumble into this world by accident.

You came here willingly to seek out a lonely impish creature: Bendy himself, a lovable toon who was brought to life, but had a lot of misery in his heart because of how he’s been treated. And he was very unhappy down here.

You vowed to help him escape from this awful place. As much as you wanted to help every single lost soul trapped here, sadly that was impossible. There could be hundreds..or even thousands of them around.

It has to be Bendy, the one who felt the most pain.

So once it was safe to continue, you explored the studio some more, eventually coming across a city. And further within it resided a factory.

Hearing a loud roar, you jumped and hid behind a wall, looking towards the entrance to see a large and lanky ink demon that resembled the fellow you were trying to find. Some bizarre humanoid creatures with spotlights for faces and pipe tentacles for legs were dragging him towards the doors with snares and chains--as if they were trying to wrangle a wild animal.

You noted the strange electrical towers in the area as well, wondering what their purpose was.

But the demon broke free and punched a hole in one of their faces, immediately killing them as they dropped dead on the spot. The other robotic creature seemed afraid, backing away and putting their hands out, yet they weren’t spared either as they were killed in a similar fashion.

You were impressed by his strength, though you quickly became startled as the towers suddenly sprung to life, surging with an unusual energy that seemed to be harming Bendy.

He collapsed to the ground, seemingly melting as he made a feeble attempt to crawl away. For a moment, you were worried that the machines were killing him, yet you had no clue how to intervene or stop them.

Until you saw the excessive ink melting away to reveal none other than...

A certain small toon imp--with pants, a vest, and a bowtie to boot.

Bendy. It truly was him all along!

Your eyes widened in awe, but you frowned slightly upon seeing the poor guy was sad, his eyes teary. He seemed to have hurt his hands from punching the robotic creatures, as he rubbed his knuckles, wincing in pain and checking his gloves for any damage.

Whatever magic or energy radiated from those towers didn’t seem to affect you, so you entered the area quietly and saw him frantically trying to break off the metal clasp around his neck.

As the chain kept clinking around, he began to struggle more and more--

Until suddenly it turned into ribbons and fell onto the floor, freeing him.

Wait..

Ribbons?

Bendy was perplexed as to how they suddenly turned into that. But only then did he hear footsteps and realize you were the one who helped him. And he turned to you, looking at your festive costume..and your pointy ears. Were you a demon, too?

“Bendy? Hi..I’m [y/n]. An elf from the North Pole.” You kneeled down in front of him, smiling sweetly in greeting. “You know about..Christmas and Santa and all that?”

For a moment he didn’t react, before nodding shyly in response. He apparently couldn’t speak, but that was fine by you.

“Well, I see folks down here are struggling to spread Christmas cheer, but..seems like it’s all for show. I can’t do much for them, but I can help you experience a real Christmas. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Although confused, he nodded again, before blinking in surprise as you extended your hand.

“Well, Bendy..I can get us out of here with my powers. You can leave all of this behind. No strings attached. Whatdya say?” While this might be a lot for him to process in such a short amount of time, all you wanted was to get him out of here as soon as possible.

Every second spent down here was dangerous for you both.

He was completely stunned by your offer. You barely knew him, and yet...

You came all the way here to help him?

‘Is there actually a way I can leave this place..forever?’ He pondered, part of him fearing this was some kind of trick--or that it wouldn’t be possible.

The towers were still active, and he gestured to them with a frown. But you just waved them off. “Oh don’t mind those.” You chuckled. “They have no effect on me, since I’m not really from this world. I know this is..a lot to take in right now, but I promise I can help you. Obviously I won’t force you to come if you-”

Suddenly, Bendy’s gloved hands flew to grasp yours tightly, nodding his head repeatedly in a desperate plea to leave this awful place.

The Keepers almost captured him again..as they have for several Cycles. And with every Cycle, they found a new way to torture him, to contain him, to control him.

He couldn’t suffer through that again.

At this point, he’ll take any chance of freedom that may come his way.

You could see he was ready to go, so you told him to hang on, closing your eyes and focusing on escaping this place.

Before either of you knew it-

You were warped out of that hellish cartoon studio, landing in a rather colorful world--more specifically, your home at the North Pole.

“Ah, we made it! Thank the stars.” You sighed in relief.

‘I’m gonna have nightmares about that place for sure..’

Letting your hands go, Bendy looked all around him, seeing that you were both inside a cozy cabin decorated with everything Christmas-themed. From a beautiful tree in the corner to the tinsel and stars hanging around and above every doorway visible to him. Several stockings also hung safely over a warm fire.

You noticed his bowtie was red and his clothes were actually dark blue, with some ink stains and patches all over them.

“Whew..it’s so good to be home.” You sat down on the comfortable sofa and picking up your mug of hot coca. Fortunately it had cooled down a little bit. Bendy joined you, gazing at the drink curiously.

For a moment, you paused, before looking at him and deciding he deserved it more. “Here. You can have this..assuming you can drink, of course.” You gave him the mug. “It might be hot still. Just be careful.”

Nodding, he took a sip, savoring the chocolatey taste. You were astonished that he never opened his mouth to drink it. Apparently he could just..absorb food and drinks. But either way, he seemed to be enjoying it and finished it within seconds.

‘So this was the “Ink Demon” everyone down there feared?’ You mused. ‘I think they misjudged him. He’s not evil. He’s just..a lonely guy who needed some Christmas cheer.’

Once he was finished with the hot coca, Bendy set down the mug, turning away from you to look out the window and admire the light snowfall.

You smiled fondly. “It’s beautiful out, isn’t it? That’s the real world, my frien-”

-Plop, plop, plop-

Suddenly, you heard some small splattering noises coming from him, seeing them drip onto the sofa’s arm chair. And you were concerned when you noticed his shoulders shaking, before he covered his face with his hands.

“Bendy? Are you alright?” Reaching over worriedly, you put your hand on his shoulder. And he finally looked back at you.

He was crying, eyes shiny as black goopy tears leaked from them. But he was smiling this time.

Only now he realized that he was truly free. He didn’t have to worry about Joey or Wilson or Keepers...or anything associated with that horrific studio anymore.

You saved him from that eternal hell.

“Awh, it’s okay, buddy.” You opened your arms up. “C’mere. You’re safe now.”

The imp practically flung himself into them, squeezing you tightly so you knew how much he appreciated your help. He managed to sit in your lap, hugging you as he left inky tears on your shoulder, staying that way for a long time (but of course, you had no intentions of letting him go first).

You were such a kind and sweet elf--a literal angel that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t know how you discovered him or knew anything about the studio.

You saw what he was, what kind of monster he is...yet you risked everything to help him.

All just to give him the Christmas he always dreamed of.

#hope you dont mind reader being a christmas elf #i just remembered the xmas update and how cute it is ghshgh #clanask #batdr x reader #bendy and the dark revival x reader #batdr bendy #elf reader #female reader #platonic #fluff #christmas #hurt/comfort

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