#Whenimaunicorn

[sansaorgana]

Thank you, darling! Yes, I really like how they contrast with each other and how she brings the best out of him 😊

— PROTECTING THAT WHICH IS MOST FRAGILE

PAIRING — Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Sent to patrol the area where the Orcs' settlement was, you find an abandoned baby. Perhaps most Elves would remain unbothered but you have always loved the imperfect things, the ugly ones, the unwanted ones. You take care of the baby, not knowing yet that taking him with you will change your life forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I missed writing for Adar, so here we are! 🤭 I also really wanted to write him with a pure, good Elven woman that would be a bit like Galadriel in the way she radiates light because I love the contrast between them two. 🙈

WORD COUNT — 6,020

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

PROTECTING THAT WHICH IS MOST FRAGILE

You had always loved the imperfect things, the ugly ones, the unwanted ones. What was making other Elves look the other way or wince out of disgust, would make your heart clench deep inside your chest. You felt the need to protect such things, to take care of them and to love them.

Because who else would?

Living in the Southlands and being responsible for protecting humans was an easy task for you because you never looked at them with contempt or superiority. However, being immortal and watching them get old and die – that was the most difficult part.

Lately, the human villages under your protection had been threatened by the Orcs – filthy, evil creatures. A mockery of your kin.

For them you had no sympathy. Or at least you thought so.

On the night before your friends had found a primitive settlement made by a few Orcs by the edge of the forest. The Elves had destroyed it and killed the Orcs but you were sent there to patrol the area to make sure no other Orcs had come in the meantime and settled there instead.

You were quick and swift, nearly inaudible as you sneaked around the woods you had known your whole life. Your bow and arrows attached to your back as you remained observant towards every leaf shivering in the wind and every howl in the distance.

When you arrived at the settlement, it was visibly empty even though the stench of the Orcs still remained. There was no light, however, although the smoke from the huts being burnt still lingered on.

You looked around one last time before turning around to walk away when a sudden and unexpected sound caused you to freeze.

Pathetic and weak wailing.

There was something pitiful about the sound and you found yourself looking for the source of it inside the burnt huts. And, finally, you found it in a basket under the table – a baby.

An Orc baby, naturally. The ugliest little creature you had ever laid your eyes on with sharp teeth and small, watery eyes as its hand was reaching out for you. Your heart clenched deep inside your chest at the sight. You couldn’t abandon it but you also couldn’t take it back to your Elven friends. They wouldn’t feel the same sympathy you did. After all, it was a child. Still innocent and still uncorrupted. And it was not its fault that their kin was a mockery of yours. 

You picked the baby up gently and shushed it. You looked inside its diaper made of rags and found out he was a boy.

“Don’t cry, little one,” you tried to calm him down and caressed his little head. “Are you hungry perhaps?” You asked and walked outside to sit on the rock.

You weren’t sure if small Orcs could eat lembas bread but you had nothing else to offer. To your relief, the small piece was enough to make the baby stop crying and you watched him fall asleep in your arms now, clinging to you. You sighed, trying to figure out what to do now.

Coming back to your friends was not an option, which you had already known. Leaving the child behind to die was not something you would consider either. Therefore, all you could do was to sneak deeper into the forest, find another settlement of the Orcs and simply drop the babe off there, hoping to remain unnoticed.

You adjusted the baby in your arms and stood up, determined to continue with your plan as you walked into the woods calmly, trying not to wake the exhausted little boy up.

The deeper you went into the woods, the more lost you felt. Even though you had known these forests ever since you were a baby, they had changed recently as the Orcs’ presence seemed to corrupt the woods’ energy significantly. You no longer felt safe and the fact you were not only responsible for yourself but also for a small child was not helping.

However, you did not want to give up. If you were to get hurt or lose your life while trying to do the right thing and protect something so small, vulnerable and innocent… so you would. That was every Elf’s duty even if some had forgotten already what the source of their light was.

The little Orc baby started crying all of a sudden and you stopped in the middle of the path to stand by the huge tree nearby as you were trying to shush him gently. Too focused on him, you didn’t hear the leaves creaking behind you and the next moment you felt a dirty, crooked blade being held to your throat. You swallowed thickly and your eyes widened as you pressed the child closer to your chest.

When you turned your head around, you found yourself face-to-face with an Orc with a few more standing behind him, snarling at you like wild animals. You swallowed thickly and looked down at the baby in your arms.

“What do you have there, Elf?” The Orc asked you and lifted up an edge of the blanket the baby was wrapped in with the tip of his knife.

He was visibly surprised at the sight and he looked around to say something in the filthy Black Speech to his companions. At his words, they all gathered around you and kept staring at the baby. Little boy was looking back at them with big eyes.

“Where did you get the baby from?” One of the Orcs asked you with contempt.

“I… I found him abandoned inside a burnt settlement,” you answered, purposefully not mentioning who had burnt the very village although the Orcs did not need to be told because they snorted at that.

All except for one, who squinted his eyes and approached you quite aggressively. He pointed his blade at you and you put your heads around the baby’s head to protect him.

“Why did you take him?!” He asked.

“I… I wanted to bring him to you… I assume his parents’ are dead but I thought you were taking care of your own, so…” You started, your voice trembling slightly.

“Stop lying!” The Orc snapped and you got startled. “You stole him and wanted to take him to your kind. To hurt him,” he emphasised and his friends looked at each other as if they had just realised something.

“I would never hurt a child, no matter what kin they are!” You protested.

“Shut up,” the Orc growled and tore the baby from you. The boy started to cry immediately and you reached your hands out for him as your own eyes filled with tears but the Orc threatened you with his blade once more.

“Don’t,” one of his friends laid his hand on the Orc’s shoulder. “We should take her to Adar. Let him decide,” he said and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

You had heard that name before… Adar. It was being said with fear and mystery. A leader of the Orcs. What could you expect from him?

The worst, you assumed.

You were led by the Orcs through the mud with shackles around your wrists. You were stumbling and falling a lot as they laughed and kept pulling the chains, which caused your whole body to end up bruised and dirty. Your hair was filled with mud and leaves that got stuck to your matted hair strands. You were exhausted and humiliated but what kept you motivated to keep going was the baby boy you had rescued. The most aggressive of the Orcs had been carrying him and trying to shush him but the baby was crying and wailing all the time.

Poor little babe, he must have been exhausted from all this screaming and he kept reaching his little hands out towards you whenever he saw your face. However, when you had once dared to suggest that you could carry him instead, one of the Orcs had slapped your face with a hilt of his dagger and cut your cheek open.

You were led inside a village in the middle of the darkest part of the forest. There was a clearing but enormous, old trees surrounded it, therefore their leaves provided the lack of sunlight even in the daytime. In the middle of this settlement there was a huge fire burning and most houses resembled more of simple tents but near the fire there stood a more proper hut made of wood that most certainly belonged to someone important.

Everyone froze at the sight of you being dragged by the Orcs and they were curious about the crying baby, too. When you arrived at the small empty space pretending to be some sort of a market place in the middle of the village, you were thrown on the hard ground made of stone.

“Tell Adar to come here,” the aggressive Orc ordered his friends and they nodded before rushing away to the inside of the wooden hut.

In the meantime, some female Orc approached the man and took the baby from him but the boy kept on crying and your heart ached more and more with each of his cries.

“We found this she-Elf on our land with this baby,” the Orc announced to everyone gathered, pointing his dirty finger at you. “She stole him from the settlement her kin had burnt and she wanted to take him to the Elves, so they could experiment on him.”

“That is not true!” You sobbed at the sight of angry Orcs walking up to you. They were standing in a circle around you and staring at you with nothing but intense hatred inside their eyes. “I wanted to bring him home and to protect him!” You tried to convince them as tears streamed down your cheeks. “Please, I would never hurt him…”

One of the Orcs was already crouching down to you and grabbed you by your dirty hair to pull on them while he threw your head back and you winced out of pain.

He licked his lips as you watched him with terror in your eyes but your hands were in shackles, therefore you could not push him away when he reached out for his knife.

You shut your eyes close and swallowed a sob when suddenly you felt the Orc being pulled away. When you dared to open your eyes again, you saw a man standing above you instead and your jaw dropped slightly at the sight of him.

He was… No, he could not be, could he?

An Elf.

But not an ordinary one, no. His skin was unhealthy pale in an odd shade of grey and it was covered in scars that only emphasised he had been through a lot. His blue eyes were ice cold and full of contempt but also sadness and wisdom. His long, black hair contrasted with his skin but it also suited his clothes made of black leather mostly.

He crouched down slowly as the Orcs kept observing your interaction. You tried to move back slightly from him but he reached out for you and brushed your dirty hair out of your face.

“What brings you here, child?” He asked in the Quenya language.

The way he called you and the speech he chose to use made you realise he had to be very old.

“I… I didn’t want to hurt the baby… I promise… I… I found him and I couldn’t abandon him there, so I…” You tried to explain nervously while crying but the man was patiently listening to you. “I wanted to drop him off near one of your settlements but I got caught… I… I would never hurt a baby…” Your lower lip trembled. “Please, believe me…”

“I believe you,” the man nodded, calmly. Some of the Orcs sighed with relief but others looked at each other, angrily. “Can’t you see, my children?” He stood up and turned around to face the Orcs. “She scares you but not because of what she had done but because her light is blinding you. Worry not, her light cannot hurt you like the sun,” he assured them and turned around once more to nod at one of the Orcs.

The Orc released your hands from the shackles and you massaged your sore wrists before trying to stand up, a little clumsily. The man who had to be a mysterious Adar offered you his hand to help you with it and you froze.

After a short while of hesitation, you allowed him to grab you and pull you up.

“You are my guest now,” he told you. “Stay with us for dinner and then I shall let you go. What do they call you, my Lady?”

“(Y/N),” you told him. “And I’m not a Lady,” you added and he smiled gently. “What do they call you?”

“Adar,” he said just like you had assumed by now.

There were many questions you were dying to ask him out of curiosity but you knew you should be leaving this settlement. You were not safe there and you did not trust his invitation for dinner. Also, you had never been a nosy person and everyone had their right to keep their secrets. You didn’t expect him to suddenly tell you the story of his life.

“I appreciate your invitation but I believe I should leave now,” you told him and he tilted his head slightly. For a short while you had a feeling that you could spot sadness there but then he nodded at you.

“She can’t!” A female voice made you both turn around. It was the female Orc that had taken the baby you had rescued. He was still crying. “She is responsible for him now. She was the first person he saw after his parents died and now he has a bond with her,” she explained. “He won’t stop crying unless…” She approached you and handed you the baby, nearly aggressively.

Oh, what a sweet silence suddenly occurred as the baby boy stopped crying immediately when he found himself in your arms. He yawned and clinged to you as he closed his eyes. He was finally falling asleep.

It filled you with warmth as this innocent little creature chose you as its protector but it also burdened you with responsibility and… it was surely creating a dilemma. You looked up to meet Adar’s gaze and his ice cold eyes seemed to be so gentle at that moment, you nearly melted under his gaze.

“I cannot take him with me. My kin would never understand,” you whispered.

“Stay here then,” Adar proposed and you shook your head.

The female Orc walked away now and you saw one of the male Orcs being angry at her for handing you the baby but she exclaimed something at him in the Black Speech and he shut his mouth.

“My children are mortal,” Adar explained. “He will be grown in a few years, then you can leave him. To us, a few years are like seconds to them,” he added. “But I won’t blame you if you decide to leave.”

At this moment, something about him made you trust him more. As you looked even deeper into his eyes, you saw so much pain. Pain of watching them all being born and then die – the ones he was calling his children. Like you felt towards all the humans that you had befriended. The fact they were all mortal was sometimes too painful but you had your Elven friends to grieve with. This man – Adar – he was alone.

“I shall stay for some time and make my decision,” you nodded at him and cuddled the baby a little tighter. The bond that had been forged between you was not one-sided by any means.

“Thurga,” Adar called for the female Orc and she came back to you. “(Y/N) will stay with us for some time. Can you spare a room in your tent for her?” He asked and you looked down at the baby so he could not see how terrified you actually were of sleeping inside one of those tents, surrounded by the Orcs.

“Aye, I can, Lord Father,” Thuga nodded. “Come with me, Elf,” she ordered you around and you cracked a smile at Adar before unsurely following her into one of the tents.

Just like you assumed, it was filthy and cold inside as all the Orcs sitting by the table were looking at you with hatred or curiosity. Unfortunately, the aggressive Orc who had been the most awful to you was actually Thurga’s husband. They also had a few children sitting there and they all went quiet at the sight of you.

“Lord Father says she-Elf stays and he wants her to stay here,” Thurga announced and her husband snarled.

“Here, Elf,” Thurga pointed at some rags on the ground next to the fire. “It’s warm here. That’s your spot,” she said and you blinked a few times.

“Um…Thank you, Thurga,” you smiled at her and sat there. Thurga’s husband was visibly angry and he left the tent in a hurry.

“Don’t mind him,” Thurga sat next to you and caressed the baby in your arms. “I know him. I knew his mother. It’s a shame she died,” she sighed and you pursed your lips since you knew that it was your friends who had been responsible for that.

“What is his name? Do you know?” You asked her.

“Aye, I know,” Thurga nodded. “It’s Glûg,” she told you.

“Glûg,” you repeated out loud and smiled gently. “That’s a pretty name.”

“You think so?” Thurga asked as if she found it hard to believe.

“I do,” you nodded at her and leaned in to kiss the baby’s forehead.

“Do you have children of your own?” Thurga furrowed her brows and you looked at her, surprised. “You’re probably thousands of years old, you could have hundreds of ‘em,” she said and you chuckled softly.

“I’m not that old, Thurga,” you told her. “A few hundred.”

“Practically a baby yourself then,” Thurga rolled her eyes. 

“And no, I don’t have children,” you confessed and looked down, a little sadly.

“Why not? You seem to be good with little ones,” Thurga pointed out, apparently not knowing that it was inappropriate to ask such questions so openly.

“I have never met my match,” you told her. “It works differently for the Elves. A small fascination is never enough to marry. It must be something… Something much deeper and I have never experienced it,” you smiled sorrowfully.

“The hell you need a husband for to make a baby?!” Thurga laughed and you looked at her in a scolding manner.

“Us, Elves, we do not… We do not get intimate before the wedding,” you explained to her and she snorted at that.

At that moment, Adar entered the tent and Thurga’s angry husband was standing behind him. He had complained to his Lord Father apparently about you staying at his tent.

“How do you find your new place to stay?” Adar asked you and you looked up at him.

“It is enough, thank you,” you answered, politely.

“It was a foolish idea of mine, though. You should not interrupt the peace of Thurga’s family. Come,” he waved his hand at you and you stood up carefully with Glûg asleep in your arms.

You followed Adar outside the tent and he led you inside his wooden house. It also was not luxurious by any means but it was way more decent and it resembled the human huts you knew from the villages. 

“You will be safer here. It will be a sign for them that I accept you,” Adar explained and you nodded as he pointed at a wooden bed near the fireplace. “For you and the baby.”

“His name is Glûg,” you told Adar and laid the baby on the bed with a smile before turning around to look at the man. “Where will you sleep?”

“I have told our carpenter to make me my own bed,” Adar explained. “It will be ready for tomorrow but I do not need to sleep tonight. You, on the other hand, are exhausted,” he pointed out. “How many nights without sleep?”

“Four,” you answered and Adar nodded.

“Sleep, you must,” he approached the door. “I shall not disturb your rest. Are you hungry?”

“I am fine. I still have lembas bread in my pocket and Glûg can eat it, too,” you answered.

“Lembas… I have not had it in centuries,” Adar whispered.

“Do you want some?” You offered him but he shook his head with a sad smile.

“Go to sleep,” he only answered before leaving you alone with Glûg inside his house.

Weeks have passed inside that settlement and with each one, you were growing more and more used to that place. And you certainly were very close with Glûg now. He was really like your son – you slept cuddling together, you fed him with the food prepared by the female Orcs, you played with him and you gave him baths. The others were laughing at you that he was the cleanest Uruk baby out of all because you were giving him a bath every other day. 

You would only leave him sometimes to play with the other babies and to spend time around his own kin, so he could learn the Black Speech, which was a skill you could not teach him yourself although the language was so easy that you were starting to understand some of it already.

It seemed like lots of the Orcs actually started to accept and like you – with a few stubborn exceptions, obviously. Like Thurga’s husband. But other than him and a few other grumpy men and women, you were quite liked. You radiated pure light that was impossible to ignore. Despite being dirty creatures of darkness, they were drawn to you.

They wanted you to tell them stories and to cut some of your hair to wear as an amulet. They were teaching you Uruk lullabies in return that you could sing to your son and they showed you how to cook the food that he would surely enjoy. 

Adar was keeping his distance from you, though. Despite sharing the same house he was treating you like air most of the time. He was respectful when it was needed but nothing more than that. He seemed to be a mysterious and quiet man and you did not wish to interrupt his peace either since you knew it was a result of lonely centuries he had spent all alone. However, most of the time you could feel his eyes on you. When you were dancing with the Uruk babies, when you were carrying your little baby and singing him lullabies, when you were praying each evening to the Valar by the moonlight. His eyes were constantly on you but there was nothing unsettling or malicious about his gaze. In fact, it was rather… shy? But he never approached you.

Therefore, you were surprised to hear Thurga’s words that evening when you helped her to cook the food for her babies and for Glûg.

“You know, Elf, I can mind the little one some evenings when you and Lord Father wish to be alone,” she winked at you.

She winked.

And you froze.

“What are you talking about? Don’t be daft,” you scolded her. “Why would we want to be alone? It is awkward enough already between us,” you explained.

“Aye, I know, I know…” Thurga sighed. “An Elf like you would never look at an Uruk like that but he’s so lonely. Always has been, ever since I remember and had to be for centuries before I was born,” she said. “And he once was your kin, they say,” she lowered her voice as if it was a secret and not something obvious.

Well, perhaps to the Orcs it was not. To them, it was a myth.

“I abandoned my people to raise an Uruk child. You cannot possibly be accusing me of being prejudiced,” you defended yourself.

“I’m only sayin!” Thurga rolled her eyes and you watched her for some time from the corner of your eye before going back to cooking.

When the meal was done and kids were fed, you took Glûg with you back to the house because it was time for him to go to sleep. However, when you walked inside, it was incredibly cold there.

“What happened here?” You asked and adjusted Glûg on your hip at the sight of Adar crouching down by the fireplace and cursing in the Black Speech. “Why is it so cold?”

“The wood has gotten damp and the fire does not want to start,” he explained as he stood up. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I can handle the cold,” you said although you were not so sure as the silver went down your body, “but what about Glûg?” You asked, worryingly. 

“Here,” Adar offered you his blanket and you took it.

For that night, you did not change into your nightgown you had made for yourself a few weeks earlier out of an old linen you had managed to find. You decided that staying in your clothes would be a better idea and you put two blankets over you and Glûg, keeping the baby close to make sure he was warm but at the same time you didn’t want to hold him too close and suffocate him by accident.

You were trembling out of coldness, especially in the middle of the night. It was winter, after all, and the house was poorly made so the wind was getting inside through the cracks between the wood.

Your shaky breath had to keep Adar up because you heard him on his own bed, turning over. You wondered if he was cold, too or was he immune to such harsh weather after everything he had been through.

“Are you cold?” He asked in a raspy voice.

“Y-yeah,” you admitted. “Y-y-you?”

“A bit,” he admitted and you smirked. He had to be as cold as you, apparently, but he would never admit it.

Long silence occurred between you and then you heard his bed squeak as he stood up. You moved a bit closer to Glûg and made space in your bed, which was your silent consent for him to join you, so he did.

You felt the mattress sinking when Adar laid behind you and the moment he put his arm around you made you sigh out of relief. It was much warmer in an instant and you reached your hand out to pull the blankets over him as well.

“Do you think your friends are looking for you?” Adar asked suddenly, in a whisper, straight into your ear.

“Surely. But they will not find me. Not so deep in that forest,” you answered quietly. “And in a few years, I shall rejoin them.”

“What will you tell them?”

“The truth,” you confessed and you felt his arm squeezing you a little tighter.

“That you raised an Uruk? They will outcast you for that, Elf,” he pointed out.

“It is not in my nature to lie,” you answered. “And if they do outcast me for such a thing, then I shall be an outcast then,” you shrugged your arms.

“What will you do then? As an outcast? Where will you go?” He asked more questions and you quite enjoyed the fact he had gotten so talkative but at the same time you wondered what had caused it.

“I will go back to the place where I am accepted,” you answered without giving him an answer too obvious and too straightforward.

“Perhaps you could skip the part in the middle,” Adar whispered.

“Perhaps. We will see,” you nodded and leaned back as your muscles relaxed after getting warmer. You could feel his chest rising up and down and his steady breath calmed you down. “What happened to you?” You asked. It was your turn to inquire.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re an Elf like me,” you pointed out.

“I am an Uruk,” he protested.

“How did it happen?” You changed your question. “You don’t have to tell me,” you quickly added. “I am simply wondering.”

“I was tempted by Morgoth’s promises and followed him,” he answered and you felt a shiver go down your spine at the mention of his master’s name. “I paid the price for my own choice, so do not pity me.”

“How do you know I would pity you?” You cracked a smile.

“Because I know you enough, (Y/N),” he brushed your hair with his rough fingers. “I have been observing you. You are made of pure light like you are straight out of Valinor but I no longer have access to such holiness. Even my children are drawn to you. You are a blessing for us. Our miracle.”

“Perhaps it was no coincidence that I am here,” you sighed.

“How so? You grace us with your light but what are you getting out of it?” He wondered out loud.

“I have Glûg,” you answered. “I have a son,” you smiled and caressed the side of the baby’s sleepy face.

“He does not disgust you,” Adar pointed out.

“How could he?” You chuckled softly. “The more time I spend with all of you, the more I wonder how could any of you ever disgust me,” you confessed.

Adar’s fingers froze on your cheek in the middle of brushing your hair and then you felt him turning your head softly so you could face him. You saw his eyes looking deep into yours with a hint of hesitation and lots of gentleness that made your heart clench and quicken its peace.

You knew what he was thinking of but he lacked the courage so you took the matter into your own hands and reached out to join your lips together in a short and sweet kiss.

Suddenly, you felt as if there were fireworks going off deep within you – honey-like warmth spread all over your body and your soul sang the most beautiful tune. When you broke the kiss, you blinked a few times, surprised.

“Have you… Have you felt that, too?” You asked, surprised. Was it possible that he out of all was the one for you?

“I do not have a soul any longer,” Adar confessed with a sad smile.

“You do. You must. Otherwise my soul would not call out for yours; it would not be drawn to the abyss,” you breathed out. “Perhaps you haven’t felt it then,” you cracked a smile and turned your head around because you couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, too embarrassed.

“I have,” he whispered finally and put his hand on your hip to pull you closer. “But I do not wish for that.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay here,” you sniffled your fresh tears back.

“I do but it is a selfish need. You deserve much more than this. Than me,” he explained.

“Let me decide what I deserve and what I do not,” you lowered your hand to squeeze his as your fingers intertwined. “I do not care about anything else but the fact I have waited centuries to find you and I am finally here. Now I am sure. Perhaps I was made for you – born with this flaw of loving the imperfect things, the ugly ones, the unwanted ones. Perhaps the gods have pitied you and created me for you,” you explained.

“I have slain Elves and humans that were so dear to you,” he reminded you but not without a hint of guilt in his deep voice.

“And I have slain your children with my bow and my arrows. I have been slaying them for centuries,” you remarked. “But I will not slay any more. Can you make a similar promise?” You wondered out loud but there was silence on the other side and you sighed.

“I wish I could. But my children need home. They need a place they can call their own. No Elf and no human will accept them as neighbours,” Adar explained.

“I have,” you pointed out.

“You are exceptional.”

“Can we cast these people out and allow them to take their belongings instead of killing them then?” You bit on your lower lip and squeezed Adar’s fingers even tighter.

“We?” He asked, shocked.

“Yes, we,” you nodded.

“Together, we can do anything, my love,” Adar nodded and leaned in to kiss the back of your head. “Anything you want.”

“I want us to have a proper home,” you assured him. “But I do not want the violence and the murder.”

You watched Glûg with a smile on your face as he was running around with his friends and pretending to be at war with them as they all screamed and trained their combat skills. You were leaning on the doorframe of your house and enjoying a cup of tea out of the mint leaves you had gathered earlier this morning.

You cheered for him when he was winning and his eyes sparkled at the sight of you watching. When he was done with playing, he ran up to you happily and you smiled down at him.

“Have you seen me win, mother?” He asked and you nodded as you squeezed his cheek lovingly and he rolled his eyes at the gesture.

He was growing fast and you hated that because the older he was getting, the closer you were to saying goodbye to him forever. But he was still a child and you did not want to think of it now.

“Yes, I have. You are so strong, Glûg,” you complimented him and he grinned at your words. “Go, wash your hands now because dinner's nearly ready for you,” you instructed him and he groaned. “What is it?”

“None of my friends wash their hands before a meal,” he sighed and you chuckled at that.

“But you are my son and you do,” you teased him. “Go, wash them,” you ordered and he lowered his head before obediently walking inside the house to wash his hands in a bowl on the counter.

You turned around to watch him and then you approached the fireplace where the food was being heated up for him inside the cauldron. Glûg sat by the table and you poured a portion of the soup for him inside the bowl before placing it in front of him and he thanked you in the Black Speech before starting to eat eagerly.

The door to the hut opened and Adar walked inside. He smiled gently at the sight of you and Glûg as you approached him to give him a hug and he leaned in to kiss the top of your head.

“How was your day?” You asked him with a gentle smile and he cracked a smile back while caressing your cheek with his rough thumb.

“Every day of mine is excellent since you’re here with me,” he answered and reached into his pocket to hand you a few flowers he had gathered earlier on that day. “I have something for you.”

The years you had spent with the Uruk were enough to learn that picking flowers for their women was not their custom. But despite everything, when it came to courting you, Adar remained faithful to his old and Elven ways. And even though you were his companion for life now and nothing would change that, he courted you every day still. 

“Thank you,” you chuckled and took the flowers from him as you approached the mirror to put them in your hair.

Glûg took one last sip of his soup and looked up at you while you were adjusting the flowers between your hair strands.

“You look pretty, mom,” he admitted and you looked at him in the reflection of the mirror with a big grin on your face.

“Thank you, darling.”

MASTERLIST

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The Alliance

Summary: Princess (Y/N)'s hunt has finally come, and Ivar has more than a country to explore.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

A/N: I know I haven't been uploading and I'm sorry, I've been working and this story in particular requires a LOT of research (like literally so much). That said please enjoy this chapter, remember if its bold that means it is spoken in the foreign language. This chapter does include a hunting scene so trigger warning if it applies.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Taglist:

The celebration of Princess (Y/N)’s homecoming was indeed an event that would be talked about in Tunisia for months, and the Norse travelers would never forget it. The beach, the dancing, the music, the food that was served was all breathtaking and bordering comfortably on the edge of overwhelming.

It was only when the feast was entirely eaten and the performers were physically unable to continue that everyone agreed to retreat to their own homes to rest.

Ivar found himself on the back of his father, he couldn’t fathom hauling his weight on his crutches after he had exhausted all his energy during the festivities. However; it seemed Ragnar had reserved just enough energy to help his youngest son to the palace.

He even carried Ivar’s crutches in his arms as Ivar clung to his back, and Ivar saw how his father’s grip on them left his knuckles pale white.

‘You do not like my crutches.’ he said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of them as they lagged behind the royal party on the way back to the castle.

‘I do not like them.’ Ragnar confessed casually.

‘Why?’

‘You do not need them, Ivar; you move slower with them. I can tell it exhausts you and you break more bones by standing upright.’

‘I haven’t bro-’

‘You have.’ Ragnar interrupted the lie, his voice suddenly stern.

‘I am not your mother, I don’t need to see and hear you crying to know when you have pushed your body too far for its limitations. Every time I tried to hold you for the first year of your life I broke a bone in my rough handling.’

At his father’s confession Ivar was left speechless; how many times had his mother drunkenly rambled that as a babe Ivar cried whenever Ragnar picked him up? Of course Ivar had not known why he did this, he was too young, all he knew was his mother was telling the truth about it. Aslaug’s drunken complaining made up a large amount of Ivar’s childhood and sometimes her drunkenness made her dramatize the events but this was one of the few that never changed; Ragnar never spoke of it in front of him.

Not once in all his life.

‘Even the night I left you in the woods, it was your right ankle, it cracked as I tried to swaddle you. I hadn’t intended to leave you that night, I was just trying to hold you and I couldn’t do even that without hurting you.’ Ragnar continued.

‘You must not be used to the palm wine these Tunisians serve, mead has never made you drunk enough to tell me this before.’ Ivar tried weakly to joke.

He hadn’t been prepared to hear this, he had long ago come to accept that he would die without ever having had this conversation with his father.

‘I must not be.’ his father let out a humorless breath of laughter.

‘How do you know when I break a bone? Is it the blue in my eyes?’ Ivar asked.

‘No, son; it is not your eyes, it’s your nose.’

‘My nose?’

‘It scrunches up in a wince whenever a bone breaks, even as a baby before the cries could fall from your lips your nose would give you away. I also know because whenever I see you break a bone I feel it.’ his father confessed.

‘I feel the same sickness rise up in my throat, the same guilt. My guiltiness led me to abandon you, my guilt kept me from loving you. Guilt over how you were born, guilt that my impatience and disregard to your mother’s warning cost you your health.’

Ivar did not need any elaborations on what his father was referencing.

“His mother said he would be a monster.”

“Not even ten and already a killer.”

“There is something not human in him, I just know it.”

“She wasn’t even pregnant yet and she knew he’d be vile and twisted.”

“He even slithers around like the great serpent, he will bring Ragnarok to us all!”

Phrases like these were whispered around him all his life; his mother’s prophecy that if Ragnar had her too soon she would birth him a monster.

‘I do not blame you, or mother, I am not angry with you father. I never have been… I never could be. I-’ Ivar felt like he was physically choking on the words he was trying to say.

It was the first time he’d ever said them out loud before.

‘I love you Father, even if you broke my bones holding me I never wanted you to put me down.’ he said pressing his face into his father’s shoulder, and let Ragnar feel the tears soak into the fabric of his tunic.

‘You do not have to blame me, I will even allow you to be foolish enough to forgive me, but son, I will never forgive myself for the way I treated you. You and your brothers are one of the very few things that keep me in Midgard, and I do not deserve the love and respect you all show me. I have wronged you all, in unforgivable ways.’

‘I have never heard you admit to being wrong.’ Ivar said around the lump that had formed in his throat as he at last got a hold of his emotions.

‘Do not get used to it, it will never happen again and I will deny it if you tell any other living thing.’ his father said, his voice once again becoming lighthearted.

Their emotional conversation had ended, and he knew that neither he nor his father would ever mention it again. Not to each other or to anyone else.

Not even the Princess would hear of this, he would keep this moment selfishly to himself for the rest of his life.

A comfortable silence fell over the two men and lasted until they were finally in the palace, where Ragnar placed his son down and placed the crutches down, sending them a distasteful glance.

Ivar looked over at the others and saw that they were still raving over the festivities and their eagerness for sleep and he looked back to his father.

‘I know I do not need them, father, but I do want them. I want to stand tall among other men, I'm tired of looking up at those I know are beneath me.’ he whispered as he pulled himself up on his crutches.

‘I will not use them forever, I will improve them…and myself.’ he promised.

Ragnar sighed and placed a sudden, unexpected kiss on Ivar’s temple and whispered into his ear in confidence.

‘You will be a man to be feared one day, Ivar the Boneless. Your broken body will never be able to contain your mind and violence.’

With those last words Ragnar went back to the group and he along with Aslaug retired to their chambers.

His brothers and the Tunisians all quickly followed suit, and gave quick and polite goodbyes before going their own ways as well.

‘Let us also retire. I am absolutely exhausted.’ (Y/N) said and indeed she looked like her will alone was keeping her upright.

‘Yes, I’m sure that kind of dancing used up all your energy.’ Ivar agreed and soon they began their journey to their newly shared chamber.

‘I enjoyed dancing to your heart beat. It beats in alignment with my own.’ she remarked as they entered.

Inside they were met with their respective servants who must have brought in their things before joining the feast, as all their things were now properly in place in the chamber.

To Ivar’s surprise and delight the princess sent them both away.

Occasionally on the journey the princess would feel very affectionate and would like to undress Ivar herself; it was another thing he came to rely on while they shared space on the ship.

He would always eagerly offer to undress her in return, she would graciously accept and they would lie in each other’s arms as they slept through the night.

Tonight, however, she was more slow in removing his tunic than she usually did and he could tell by the distanced look in her eye as her hands moved that her mind was not truly in this moment.

‘I will not be at your side when you wake my love.’ she said as she discarded the clothing.

‘How long will your hunt last?’

‘As long as it takes, after the hunt is complete I will be taken to the Skinner's hut to fashion the cloak alone. Every three days a hunting party will be sent after me, if I were to forfeit, they would escort me back safely. In which case I will have failed, and we would not have the blessing of the Great and Many.’

‘Then we would not marry.’ Ivar concluded.

A pregnant silence set in over the two of them as they undressed and remained even as they lay in each other's arms.

‘Can I make a request for my cloak?’ Ivar said at last.

‘Of course.’

‘Something warm. I will want to wear it often and the weather back home is not as nice as this.’ he said with a smile.

He hoped she understood what he was saying between his words; prayed she understood that he had confidence she would succeed and they would marry.

Ivar only needed to meet her watering eyes to know she did understand him, and more than anything else she needed his confidence in her.

‘I’ve trained since the day Sven left with his party, and I am even bold enough to call myself a warrior, but I have never hunted alone.’ she confessed.

‘I had never known true combat until our Matrimonial Fight.’ Ivar returned.

He was surprised that she looked so surprised.

‘Are you trying to console me?’ the princess accused.

‘I am being truthful. Sure on occasion my brothers include me in a bit of roughhousing, or I may even initiate a scuffle but they are never actually aiming to overtake me. Our fights are never true.’ Ivar replied.

‘I knew when I fought with you there would be no holding back on your part, you fought me as an equal and you hit where it hurt.’

The princess’s accusing eyes softened before she hid her face in his chest.

‘I did apologize. ‘ she yawned sleepily.

‘Nothing to forgive, I loved it. I loved fighting you, watching how skilled you are, seeing that look in your eyes as you look for a new place to aim. And if you hunt as well as you fight I imagine I won’t be waiting a full week.’ Ivar encouraged.

Ivar whispered soft assurances and praises until he heard her soft snores, and even still he kept silently praising her, hoping that his Gods would hear his love for her and give her protection.

As he himself finally fell into slumber he even hoped the Great and Many would watch over her as well.

When Ivar woke up he had known (Y/N) wouldn’t be there, but he was still disappointed by her absence.

A small pebble was suddenly thrown into the room, noisily hitting the floor.

‘I am awake, Trya.’ Ivar sighed as he sat up to see his thrall entering the princess’s chamber holding a Tunisian shield.

‘My Prince, did you not sleep well? Should I call for the healers?’ the woman asked, the concern for his legs showing on her face.

‘My legs are no worse than I can handle, and my sleep was sound.’ he assured her as she began to dress him.

‘You have gotten used to her being there.’ Trya realized, but immediately she went red with embarrassment at her impulsive speaking.

‘I’m sorry Prince Ivar.’ she said quickly.

‘No need to apologize when you are right, if anything I should apologize in advance for my bad mood while she is away.’

‘If I may say, I think she will return sooner than you think and with a noble animal fur just for you. In the meantime there is a beautiful village to explore and such wonderful people to meet.’ Trya offered.

Ivar knew the old woman was simply trying to cheer him up, and she was even right; but he found little comfort in her words as he left the room on his crutches.

Just as he began to wonder where he should go without (Y/N) to guide him through the unfamiliar palace, one of her servants, Kya, rounded a corner and approached him.

‘Meal before.’ she mumbled in broken Norse.

‘We are in your homeland, no need to speak a foreign language for my sake.’ he said in perfect Derja.

The girl let out a sigh of relief and began speaking in her mother language.

‘It is time for first meal, I will take you to the great hall .’ she said, her tone very confident and proper in her own dialect, before leading him through the labyrinth of halls.

Ivar was led into a large room where both royal families were sitting on the floor in a circle, all of them eating some type of bread and dipping it into something steaming hot from their bowls.

‘Ivar you must try this porridge, their spices are so flavorful.’ Hvitserk said as Ivar lowered himself down as gracefully as he could.

‘I must agree, we will definitely be trading a great deal of spices in the near future.’ Ragnar agreed, his own bowl nearly empty before Ivar had even received his portion.

The flavor of the porridge was very strong and delicious, and the bread was more grainy than the bread back home.

‘It is delicious.’ Ivar complimented as he ate with a bit more vigor.

After all, he had a long journey on the ship and had drank far too much at the feast.

‘I’m sure if my future daughter in law were here she would be flattered.’ Aslaug said, surprising everyone.

‘(Y/N) made this meal?’ Ivar asked, truly questioning how his mother knew this.

His mother sat aside her now empty bowl and looked at him in earnest, as she always had. As if she hadn’t ignored him from the moment he decided to sail here.

‘I was unable to sleep through your father’s snoring so I had a servant show me around the palace. The princess was in the kitchens, helping the cooks as they prepared her rations and first meal. We had a talk.’ the Norse Queen answered.

Ivar sent a look to his brothers, who looked equally as stunned, even his father had wide eyes.

Every word she just said went against everything they knew about their mother. Aslaug was often so drunk she could sleep through the harshest winter storm, she despised watching thralls work, and in all their lives they had never seen her set foot in any kitchen.

It hadn’t been a convenient coincidence, Ivar was certain his mother had snuck out of bed in the wee hours to speak to (Y/N) privately before her departure.

However, if anyone was waiting on Aslaug to explain her conversation with the princess, they were disappointed when she went back to her wine in silence.

‘Well then, what will you all like to do today?’ King Akashi asked the Norse royals.

‘We would like to walk through your markets. Your daughter tells us it was her most important duty as a child. The concept is both foreign and intriguing to all of us, plus we are eager to see in person the beautiful kingdom that raised our new princess.’ Ragnar replied.

‘Excellent, I shall give them a tour.’ Prince Ayo beamed as he stood excitedly.

‘Sit down.’ the queen said in a quiet but stern tone, the kind that came only from mothers and queens; and considering that she was both, her tone was truly powerful.

The child prince sighed in his defeat and sat back down on the floor.

‘You are not old enough yet my son, and you are not far enough along in your studies to walk the village and converse with the people. Until then you will spend your day with your tutors.’ the king said, seeing the upset on his son’s face.

‘I will send a servant to escort you through the markets, she will meet you at the castle gate.’

‘If I may.’ Ivar spoke up, politely asking to speak directly to the royal family, something (Y/N) had informed him was considered extremely polite.

The queen looked at him with a raised eyebrow before nodding her approval.

‘As my father has said, we are all eager to see your markets and kingdom today, but may I join the young prince with his tutors tomorrow?’

Now the queen was downright studying him, her gaze alone making the cripple straighten up his posture.

‘You wish to study here?’ she asked.

‘I have a great thirst for knowledge, like our All Father Odin, who traded his eye for it. It seems I already traded my legs at birth.’Ivar smiled charmingly, making a humorous face at the prince, who let out a small breath of laughter.

The queen smiled, seemingly against her better judgment.

‘Yes you may join the lessons tomorrow, I will have Bintu accompany you both to the library together tomorrow. She seems to want to get acquainted with you better.’ Queen Aza agreed.

‘Are you close with Bintu as well?’ Sigurd asked.

‘Of course, I personally chose Bintu to protect my daughter. She was my closest friend as a girl, had I ever chosen to propose a Matrimonial Fight she would be my instructor.’

‘I must say, while there are so many fascinating customs in your country, the one that fascinates me the most is your approach to your inferiors.’ Aslaug confessed.

‘No no no. I have no inferiors, my Queen Sister. I am Queen and I am the highest authority, but there isn’t one subject in all my kingdom that is inferior to me. Do you know how most commoners address queens in this country?’ the Tunisian Queen questioned.

When none of the Norse answered she smiled to herself.

‘Queen Mother; that is how I am addressed by every single one of my subjects. Queen to show me their respect, and Mother to show their love. Of course now the title is more than fitting.’ she explained, rubbing the roundness of her belly.

‘I may not know you well, Queen Sister, but I feel that the title was well earned. For I have never seen so many happy commoners, and I have certainly never met a young woman more amazing than your daughter. Truly you are Queen Mother, if I may, I’d like to accompany you today. I have been a Queen almost as long as I have been a Mother, but I am not blind to my shortcomings. I would like to learn from you, Queen Aza.’ Aslaug requested, her eyes never leaving the other woman’s.

At this Ragnar had to cover his mouth to silence his own gasp; Ivar was happy they were already sitting on the floor, had they been in chairs he is certain his brothers would have all fallen out of them in shock.

Years and years, all their lives, they all sat watching their mother drink away her affections and love for anyone other than Ivar. They had stopped expecting her love before they had even gotten their armrings. They never in their wildest dreams thought she cared enough to notice their disappointment in her as a mother.

Ivar looked over at his brothers and surely enough each of them had different expressions of shock.

Ubbe looked as if he simply couldn’t process what he’d heard, Hvitserk had dropped the grainy bread into his nearly empty bowl, Sigurd was wide eyed and his face was becoming red.

‘I would love your company, Queen Aslaug. In fact, I am quite done with first meal. I will await you in the throne room. I will send for Kya to accompany the rest of you through the markets.’ Aza said before holding out her hand to her husband.

King Akashi, who had been silently eating the last of his own meal while observing his guest, set aside his empty bowl and helped the queen rise to her feet.

The Tunisians bid their farewells, instructed a servant girl to give them a tour of the markets and departed.

As soon as the retreating footsteps could no longer be heard all eyes fell on Queen Aslaug, who had met their eyes confidently.

‘Do not look so stunned, have you not all wished for a better mother? A better woman to sit beside your great father on the throne? As I have no intention of losing my status, I must improve; at least that is the advice I was given.’ she said in Norse.

‘Why did you seek her out? You have been spiteful to all of us since the fight; you ignored us all nearly completely since she suggested sailing here.’ Ubbe asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

The hint of accusation was still noticed by his mother.

‘I had no ill intention, my son, I only meant to see her before she left for her hunt. A servant led me to the kitchens and there she was gathering her rations, we spoke and she left.’

‘What did you say to her?’ Ivar asked, not bothering to hide his suspicion.

‘She spoke to me, and I saw what about her you love. She is intelligent, wise and almost annoyingly well spoken. Though she hasn’t seen one of your fits yet, Ivar, I’m sure she will be able to control even your rage.’

The princes all looked between each other, wondering if the others believed a word of this; even Ragnar had been studying his wife to see if there were any visible signs of deception.

‘Mother, she is going on a hunt, alone, I don’t even know what kind of animals they have here. I need you to tell me with conviction that you did not upset her before she left to do something so dangerous.’ he was pleading with his mother.

Aslaug stood from the floor and looked around at her family.

‘I do not know why I sought her out, I don’t know what I wanted to say to her. I know what she said to me. That she can see the weeds of hate growing in all of your eyes when you look my way. That your frowns deepen when I speak to you directly no matter what I say…and now I can see how right she was.’ Aslaug said with a truly hurt expression painting her face.

‘You think I would be so spiteful to try and sabotage her hunt Ivar? Even you? It seems I have been far worse a mother than I thought.’ she said, her voice beginning to shake as her eyes misted.

Before Ivar had a chance to let the guilt take hold of his heart fully his mother had turned and left the rest of them to their now unappealing bowls of porridge.

The room was quiet, everyone needed to digest more than the food; Aslaug’s words had left a bitter taste in their mouths.

‘Do you believe her?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Of course not, she has been wretched since she birthed us, that doesn’t change after one talk.’ Sigurd dismissed with irritation.

‘She seemed upset, maybe she does regret the way she raised us.’ Ubbe said in her defense.

‘How could you think so, Ubbe? What raising did we get from her? It was while she was meant to be raising us that you and Hvitserk fell through ice and nearly died. In her “care” Bjorn lost his first daughter! The only time the truth comes out of her mouth is when she knows it will hurt.’ Sigurd spat angrily.

‘She is your mother, Sigurd. You owe her your life and respect.’ Ragnar said, a hint of a warning in his tone.

The circle was tense now, despite the fragility of their marriage Aslaug was still Ragnar’s wife and not many Viking men allow their wives to be insulted in their presence.

‘I had no say in who my mother was Father, did I? Even still you are right, I owe her respect…just as she owes us her love, but unfortunately for her I no longer want it.’ Sigurd replied just as stubborn as he had been as a child as he stood up.

‘I will wait at the gate for the escort.’ he said formally before leaving.

Ivar watched Sigurd in a mixture of annoyance and understanding, no one could deny that Sigurd had been the most hurt by Aslaug’s neglect growing up. He was always the one to interrupt their chess games to ask if they could have a walk all together, and he was always turned away.

‘I know your mother was…is a hard woman to understand and that it was hard growing up when I would sail away, but I know her. For better or worse I can read that woman’s heart like fresh carved runes, and I think she is being genuine. Now if you excuse me, I believe I need to have a private conversation with my son.’ Ragnar sighed tiredly before he followed Sigurd.

‘What do you think, Ivar?’ Ubbe asked his youngest brother.

‘I think…my betrothed did speak with her, and I think the conversation went more or less the same way she says it does. What I don’t know is if she is accepting that conversation as a friendly warning or a threat.’

‘You think she would sabotage (Y/N)’s hunt?’ Hvitserk asked in shock.

‘At first I will admit I did think her capable of it, but in my heart I know that isn’t like her. I know I should have no say in it seeing how she doted on me, but she has never gone out of her way to hurt any one of us. I don’t think she ever would.’ Ivar answered honestly.

‘He is right, Mother never cared enough to be cruel to us, sure she poured love onto Ivar, but Ivar is going to marry. Who will be there for her to pour on to? Ragnar?’ Ubbe said strategically, as if he were discussing a battle in a war room, not his own mother.

‘So she wants our love now that Ivar has his own woman.’ Hvitserk realized.

The room fell into one last long silence before Hvitserk noisily slurped down the very last of porridge in his bowl and stood up.

‘Well,I’m flattered to finally be worth her affections, however, what she does will have no true effect on me, but I will not discourage her efforts.’ The middle son declared before he too left.

‘What about you Ubbe? Do you still long for Mother’s love?’ Ivar asked.

‘You know, I remember the day we fell through the ice.’ Ubbe said, surprising Ivar.

Neither Ubbe or Hvitserk ever spoke about that terrible day, no matter how strategically he and Sigurd asked about it growing up; and they had asked quite often back then.

‘We had followed mother and Harbard, because why not, it was too cold for fishing obviously and we were too young to hunt back then. They went into a hut and we went to get a closer look but there was a noise…a calling so inviting and pleasant it carried us away.’

Ivar didn’t want to reply and pull his brother out of his sharing mood so he just listened and let Ubbe speak freely. He had never seen his eldest brother look so lost in his own mind while talking before, it seemed as if he was doing more than remembering. He was there all over again, a small boy out exploring with his brother on a winter's day.

‘It promised such fun and we were so excited we didn’t realize how far we had walked, but we did notice when the snowy grass became ice beneath our feet, but the call assured us and on we walked further out on the ice. Siggy, do you remember her?’ Ubbe asked.

‘Of course, Rollo’s wife.’ Ivar provided.

‘She was a kind woman to us, mother often left us in her care and she had seen us on the lake, she tried to call out for us but what was her small far away voice to a call only we could hear? A call that must have been from the Gods? She chased after us but it was too late, the ice cracked and the call stopped as soon as we fell into the freezing water.’

Ubbe seemed to not even see Ivar sitting across from him anymore, he was lost in the memory of coldness.

‘The water was so much colder than the ice had been, or at least that’s how it felt, cold all over my body, cold water in the lungs. In that cold do you know what I thought, Ivar?’

Ivar shook his head no, and waited eagerly for the answer.

‘I want my mother.’ Ubbe said softly, leaning in closer, as if this was his most precious secret.

‘I wanted to feel the warmth of her embrace and for her to whisper soothing words into my ear to assure me I would not be forced out of Midgard so soon. I even thought maybe she’d heard my silent cries and rescued us, but it was only Siggy pulling us out of the ice. Harbard was there, and she managed to give us to him before her own life was taken by that cold water. After Harbard had brought us to Mother she asked him to heal us and once he had she sent us off to bed for rest…without ever touching us.’

Ivar, who of course saw that his mother showed him more love than his brothers, was stunned by just how cold the woman had truly been to her other children.

As Ivar chewed over his rapid change in family dynamics his bride to be was walking vast dry hunting grounds.

She was brought some comfort in the fact she wasn’t in completely new territory. She had gone on at least a dozen hunts in this area. Of course those hunts had been with full hunting parties of at least ten.

Hunting in large groups was a common practice throughout the world because the simple fact was that there is power in numbers. More hunters mean more game can be caught, and the hunters had a stronger sense of security knowing that there would be more people able to watch their blind spots in case of predator attacks.

More than that, for (Y/N) at least, hunting in a group simply made the experience of hunting much more pleasant. She remembers talking with the others as they walked for hours to the waterhole where most game favored to drink and bathe.

Now she was alone and could not afford any such pleasantries. She had to keep her ears and eyes sharp, there was no one there to assist her in spotting anything that may be lying in wait.

Another benefit of hunting parties, she had come to understand quickly, was that it entailed more provisions. She had a large canteen of water that weighed heavily on her hip, but she knew it would be all she had until she reached the water hole.

And that was a half day’s journey and as heavy as it felt the canteen only had so much water inside. So she ignored the dryness of her mouth, resigned not to drink until the sun was fully in the sky.

Along with her water canteen she had a variety of tools and rope to make shelter, her father’s blade, an ax, twenty ready made arrows to go with the bow she carried by hand and a fortnight's worth of food in the pack she had on her back. One fortnight’s worth of food.

One fortnight worth of food.

One fortnight, that is two weeks.

Two weeks is fourteen days.

She repeated these things mentally every mile or so, she was determined to keep track of the time. If she allowed herself to lose her senses she could find herself out here alone with nothing to eat, no water and no choice but to wait for the rescue party.

No. Even if it did come to that she would refuse to return, and that would mean staying not only to hunt for a beast but also hunting to survive.

The thought of scavenging for berries in the dry lands was almost as discouraging as the thought of wasting arrows on smaller prey before finding her true target.

Whatever that target may be; she thought guiltily.

She had promised Ivar a grand cloak worthy of his Gods but she had no idea what that even meant yet alone what animal she would hunt. Luckily the water hole would be sure to have a variety of beasts to choose from.

After what she guessed had been four hours the sun was finally shining at its highest point in the sky. She took the canteen from her side and took a singular large swallow of cool water before closing it off again, but she held the container to her forehead to feel the coolness of the water inside.

It had to be at least noon now, that meant about six more hours until she was at the water hole, but that would mean arriving at by nightfall and that wasn’t wise. She would have to stop and make her shelter for the night.

A large cluster of boulders and a tiny cluster of palm oil trees in the distance told her she had in fact remembered the path from her previous hunts.

The rocks were where her hunting party usually sought shelter. The formation of the boulders created a sort of rocky valley and with wood and leaves from the trees a roof and walls can be fashioned.

(Y/N) took special care in looking around for any signs of a predator before she removed her pack and dug out some dried biltong and a piece of plantain bread.

She kept alert as she ate quickly, wanting to make sure she didn’t stay here long enough to be found by any thing, but she also wanted to savor the chewiness of the antelope meat, and the bread was so filling on her empty stomach it felt as warm as an embrace.

Once the last of the bread had been eaten (Y/N) picked up her pack again and continued on, still chewing the last bite of biltong, trying to extend the longevity of its flavor and the mere illusion of eating. After she had finally resigned to swallow the over chewed meat she again took a single drink from her canteen, this time only a sip as it was less about true thirst and more a desire to wash down her brief meal.

The further she walked the more she thought over her plans for when she reached the boulders.

First she would find the best spot in between the rocks that required the least amount of material to fortify. Then she would go and gather the wood and palm leaves to make the roofing and walls, after that she would go again to the trees for firewood to keep her warm once night fell.

She tried not to get too comfortable or confident but so far she was pleased with her progress. She had yet to come across so much as an antelope so far and if there were no prey animals near her that meant the chances of predators were much lower.

Of course that also meant if she did encounter a hungry meat eater it would probably be extremely eager to eat the first thing it found.

With that in mind she kept her grip firm on her bow as she pushed on.

It was when she was only about an hour away from her destination that she heard a rustling in the grass behind her that was too isolated and sudden to have been wind.

With an alarming quickness she pulled an arrow from her pack and raised her bow, aiming at the direction of the noise.

It was quiet again, but she was certain she’d heard something and she wasn’t going to turn around or move on until she found and killed whatever had made that sound.

She focused her gaze and scanned through the tall yellow grass for anything out of place. She kept a special look out for spots and stripes; this was big cat territory.

A final second of quiet passed before finally the grass rustled again, and this time she had seen exactly where the grass moved.

Without hesitation she released the arrow and several things seemed to happen all at once to her.

Of course things had happened one at a time, and they happened in this exact order.

First; the arrow flew like lightning into the tall grass, second; a loud pitiful roar cut through the air, and thirdly a lion had leapt out of its hiding place.

With no small amount of fear and an even larger amount of alarm the princess readied another arrow and began back stepping, she knew better than to turn her back to this beast.

Now that it was out of the tallest grass she could see it was a truly pathetic thing. Its mane was shaggy and matted, several scabby bald patches that had been licked raw from over grooming littered his back legs and it was so unsightly thin even in her panic she could see its protruding rib cage.

Her arrow stuck out of its left front leg in a vulgar way as it tried weakly to chase her down, but already her fear was subsiding.

Even as she backed away to put distance between her and the lion so that she could have a clear clean shot, (Y/N) could see that the arrow wasn’t the only thing slowing down her attacker.

Yes it limped on its injured front leg, but it made a huffing whimpering noise every time his right hind leg hit the ground. Clearly something had tussled with this frail thing before she had and it seemed that unknown creature had done her a great kindness.

Once she was confident in the distance between them she released the second arrow and watched it land true as it sunk into the lion's skull and the weak body fell into the dirt with a soft thud.

A final breath escaped its mouth and sent up a small cloud in the dry dirt it now laid lifelessly upon.

With the beast taken down she found herself breathing hard, her adrenaline still racing as she approached it.

Up close she could better inspect it to see if this had been it, if this could be THE beast.

However, no amount of optimism could allow her to overlook the matted shabby dark mane, the many bald patches she could see in the lion’s coat or the clearly visible bites they exposed.

No, this wouldn’t even be worth skinning, not for her husband's cloak, but still leaving it here was not an option, it would attract scavengers and most of those were pack animals. So she took out her ax and made quick work of dismembering the lion and then did her best to wrap the remains in the blanket she intended to sleep under.

It was too heavy to lift alone so she attached the sack to a rope and dragged it the rest of the way to the boulders. By the time she had reached her destination her legs and arms were more sore than they had ever been in all her years of training, but she didn't stop to rest.

Just as she had planned she found a small rectangular spot that was perfectly spaced between two boulders that stood twice as high as she did. There she sat the lion sack before she went to fetch the wood and palm leaves. The sun would be setting soon and she would not be out in the open with a fresh kill at her side when it happened.

She chopped and dragged long branches for one hour, then she fashioned two walls about one foot taller than herself using rope to tie the branches together, tying the leaves together to keep out the wind. She installed her walls by burying the branches in the dirt making sure they were firmly planted. The roof was easier to make since she had to leave a spot open for smoke to escape.

Finally, just as she had tied the last bit of rope securing the roof to the walls the sun was beginning to set. She made her final trip to the grove of trees for firewood and quickly returned to her newly built shelter.

Her fire was burning strong as the sun set, but she did not lay down, she sat beside the fire watching the flames as she thought one thing over and over.

What beast was worthy of Ivar the Boneless?

[celebrimborsapron]

The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which two characters are you shoving in the closet together and how do they pass their seven minutes? Give me three rounds of this game (three pairings, repeats ok)

Thanks for the ask @whenimaunicorn !!

I decided to pick one character and pair them them a few different people because I thought it would be fun to write :)

Gil-galad x Elrond

Cirdan x Elrond

Rian x Elrond

Gil-galad x Elrond

The door closes behind the two men and they take up places at opposite sides, as far apart as possible.

"I will never forgive you for this."

Elrond laughs. "It's hardly an unforgivable stain on your reputation- you only look like a good sport."

"I don't mean for that. I mean for this." He steps closer to Elrond for a moment and finds his hand, raising it to his lips and kissing it. "For making me see how it could be if our friends knew about us."

The air rushed from Elrond's lips in a sigh. "We could tell them," he said softly.

"I suppose that's true. It needn't leave our circle- they wouldn't tell anyone if we asked."

"Perhaps we will, then, Ereinion. But not tonight. I don't want to draw the attention away from the party."

Ereinion smiled and squeezed Elrond's hand, stepping back. "No, not tonight. Soon though, we should tell them soon."

Outside the closest Galadriel counted down the minutes.

"That's seven. Should we open the door, or do you think he's got Elrond over that barrel in the back."

"How do you know it won't be Elrond bending Ereinion over the barrel?"

Galadriel laughed. "Call it a hunch. Remember, I've kissed Elrond before."

Celebrimbor spoke up from the corner. "And I've had the pleasure of kissing the king."

All eyes turned to him. "Well, which is it then- whose bent over the barrel in there?" Galadriel asked.

Celebrimbor laughed and took a drink of his wine. "Oh, I'm not going to tell you."

Galadriel huffed and turned away to bang on the closet door, "Okay you two, time's up!"

She completely missed Celebrimbor making eye contact with Círdan behind her back and silently mouthing "Ereinion" at him.

Círdan x Elrond

"So, what do we do now? Seven minutes doesn't seem like much time."

Elrond blushes. "I think most people kiss? Make out? Um."

"I enjoy kissing. Would you like me to kiss you?"

Elrond is stunned momentarily speechless. "You- you want to kiss me?"

Círdan laughs. "Of course Elrond. That's the point of the game, right? Besides, you are the descendant of Melian- you have her otherworldly beauty. Who would not want to kiss someone like that?"

Elrond swallows and nods, standing up straight. Círdan steps up to him and raises a hand to cup Elrond's face.

"Relax Elrond. This is supposed to be fun." He says and leans in, pressing his lips to Elrond's gently, as if he is trying not to startle him. Elrond leans into the kiss, but too soon it is over and Círdan is stepping back.

"That's all?" Elrond can't help the question from slipping out of his mouth. This earns a real laugh from the shipwright.

"For tonight. I told you, I need much longer than seven minutes for anything...more."

A shiver snakes its way down Elrond's spine but then the door opens and he has to compose himself quickly. For tonight, anyway.

Rian x Elrond

The door closes with an audible click and then the silence just...stretches.

Elrond clears his throat but Rian beats him to it, holding up an hand "Over my dead body."

"I wasn't going to suggest we do anying.

"I don't know what you mean."

"We all know how short of a leash the king keeps you on."

Elrond blushes. "That's- there's-" He gives up and looks around for anything- anything- to change the subject.

"Hey, did you tell me you were using new points on your arrows? I feel like you mentioned it the other day but I got busy and forgot to find you after the council."

Rian's eyes light up and she pulls away from the wall, suddenly animated.

"Yeah, you have to see them- a smith in the Gwaith-i-Mírdain made them for me. They're like, twisted? Ugh, I can't explain it- you just have to see them." She grabs his hand and yanks open the closet door, dragging him through it and out of the party while everyone looks on in confusion.

[varda-starqueen]

send this star to your favorite accounts to show that you love them! time to spread the love! ⭐️❤️

I had this lovely note drop in my inbox today from the very kind @lady-wyrd and it instantly put me in mind of Adar's quote "Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo"

(No surprise there, as I think about Adar an unholy amount of times every day!)

It also made me think of what that quote means and how it applies to so many people here! A star shines on the hour of my arriving in this fandom where every level of unhinged is accepted and welcome.

Never before have I interacted with any fandoms, and was always a bit scared to because of all the dramas, but this fandom doesn't do drama, just awesomeness!! I feel blessed by Eru to be here.

I'm sending a star here to people who regularly interact with my posts and also to some of the blogs I enjoy looking at for art, writing, fanfics, memes, thirst posts, and more!

Stars to you all - and if you see this and aren't mentioned, I send you a star too. 🤩⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐🤩

(In no particular order!) @lady-wyrd, @gauntletgirlie, @valar-did-me-wrong, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88, @wowstrawberrycow, @itwillbeourswansong, @laurarcrazystrange, @heckate-hexx, @geezhigoquae, @multifangirll, @loulialy, @gingeragenda, @eowyn7023, @whenimaunicorn, @nikinikori, @orehuna, @nekroticism, @thiddleston, @marilynshamu, @greenleaf4stuff, @margauxmara, @baddybaddyadardaddy, @o0-snowdrop-0o, @iwanderbecauseimlost, @hikarielizabethbloom @catz4ever

[kind-wolf]

Posting that while I'm at work?! That was torture!

Had to wait 5 hours to read it! 😭

‐ - - - - -

Hope wonders if he knows they’re not quite as charming as he thinks. 

Ha! 😂 Someone finally said it!

While I absolutely love Jack as a character, I can't imagine really finding him charming.

Anyway....

It was a perfectly written ending (beginning) to their story! Through all the chapters you managed to keep their characters/traits consistent. The pacing was impeccable!

A true delight!

I'm glad and grateful that you managed to finish this tale! And while it's sad that you don't have much time to write anymore, I hope life is good for you and you're contend.

Thank you! 💗

The Heart of Admiration - Conclusion

Coming in juuuuust under three years in the making, my epic OC collaboration with @acebreathesfire​ is finally complete and posted! it didn’t sit right, to leave this unfinished.

As my choice of photo may imply, this is an Explicit chapter. I am who I am, and my slow burns must culminate in all the details. Hope that doesn’t turn anyone off! There is more plot after the naughty bits, if you prefer to scroll to the end…

taglist: @kind-wolf​ @ladyhubris @summertimesadness101 @23orso @n3rdybird​ @bitchyikes​

Hope is fairly certain that Charles meant for her to follow. And the fire that his heavy look ignited in her core certainly is impelling her to rush after him, but she doesn’t let her feet move. If she enters that cabin with him now, after everything that’s been said, his touch still hot on her skin, there’s only one thing that can happen.

And that thing will be irreversible.

“Hope,” Jack calls across the table, interrupting her moment.

She turns to him, blinking, hoping any trace of moon-eyed girlishness has cleared before he can catch her throwing any more looks after their captain.

Read on

[gauntletgirlie]

The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which two characters are you shoving in the closet together and how do they pass their seven minutes? Give me three rounds of this game (three pairings, repeats ok)

Oooooh thank you for this ask! I was incredibly excited to receive it and my mind has been feverishly trying not to just stick me in with different characters 😆😂🙈 so here goes!

I’ve done this as if they’re at a party, spinning a bottle and it’s all chance and fate, rather than me physically choosing and shoving them in (even though it’s totally me choosing them and shoving them in 😂).

First spin is Miriel and it lands on Elendil. Elendil tells his queen they don’t have to do anything, he thinks the game is silly and for children. Miriel tells him to shut up and kiss her. He does. She’s thrilled it landed on him and she has a legitimate reason to kiss him and not feel guilty about it. He’s over the moon too. They don’t go all the way as they are both still quite conservative and reserved, but the kissing gets intense and hands be wandering.

Second spin is Gil-Galad and it lands on Elrond. They are both mortified. They stand in the designated closet fuming at their situation and refusing to look at each other for the first two minutes. Eventually Gil-Galad asks Elrond who he wishes the bottle had landed on and Elrond just stammers a non-committal noise before returning the question. Gil-Galad pauses then says “anyone but you, Galadriel, and Celebrimbor to be honest.” The seven minutes feels like an hour.

Third spin is Galadriel and it lands on Adar. Adar isn’t even playing, he’s watching in the background, but the bottle lands between Sauron and Kemen pointing straight at Adar in the back. Galadriel sure as hell isn’t going in an enclosed space alone with either of those two, so she leaps up and yells at Adar to follow her. Smirking, he does so. They don’t talk, they just look at one another once the door is shut and next thing they’re kissing. They spend so long on foreplay that the seven minutes is up before they get any further. Glûg regrets being the designated door opener after the seven minutes is up.

I picked #1 because those two cuties need a break, #2 because I find it too funny 😂, #3 because I had to include Adar somewhere and I like the Adariel ship if I’m not shipping him with me.

This was so much fun! Thank you @whenimaunicorn! 🖤

[greenleaf4stuff]

The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which two characters are you shoving in the closet together and how do they pass their seven minutes? Give me three rounds of this game (three pairings, repeats ok)

Hi @whenimaunicorn and thank you so much for your ask! :D Oh that is a very interesting thing to consider. I slightly deviated from the original premise in the 1st one I think, I hope that's okay! Also this got a little longer than I anticipated, so I am using a cut to put my ideas behind to protect everyone else's dashboards.

The pairings are:

Adar/Celebrimbor (canon divergence!AU)

Adar/Elrond (modern!AU)

Adar/Celebrimbor (modern!AU)

Adar/Celebrimbor (canon divergence!AU)

They end up hiding in a storage closet/ shove themselves into a tiny space together while hiding from Sauron as they try to flee Eregion together; Adar has snuck into the city to steal the elf right from under Sauron's nose and Brimby has been *very* happy to go with him. 'You don't have to carry me, I'll come willingly. In fact, we should hurry up, I know a way we can take-'

They have to wait out guards and a pissed off Sauron hurrying by the closet multiple times, the shouting outside getting increasingly loud and strained with anger.

Adar is trying to keep the smith quiet, maybe he even places a hand over his mouth and steps close to stop him from wriggling around so much. They cannot get caught! Meanwhile Celebrimbor is so very intrigued by the mysterious 'elf' who has just saved him and tries to figure out who he is, and also cannot help realising the other is both attractive and has a good physique under that armor. They are squished together okay, it's not like he can help taking notice!

Adar also cannot help but realise the elven smith's pretty haircolor, the warmth of his eyes, the strength of his grip as he clings onto Adar. That the other didn't hesitate or argue but came with him. Other elves certainly wouldn't have been so reasonable.

They are both a bit flustered when they can finally leave the closet and quickly hurry along to get out of the city. But the stint in the closet keeps lingering in their minds even as they make a break for the relative safety of the uruk army.

Adar/Elrond (modern!AU)

They both aren't sure how they got chosen to get shoved into that closet together, certainly both Gil-Galad and Galadriel aren't entirely happy about it. Adar knows he'll have to fear bodily harm if he makes a wrong move but he actually-kinda-maybe has a crush on Elrond? The other is just so kind, and smart, and sharp-witted. And also pretty. Also flirting him with makes Adar feel giddy inside; Elrond hasn't told him to stop and actually reacts with blushes and smiles when Adar does it.

Elrond is desperately trying to play it cool but it's not easy - Adar is attractive, and so cool with his whole rebellious getup; the leather jacket and metal band t-shirt and long dark hair and how he's unafraid to mouth off at anyone who tries to argue with/antagonize him. But he's treating Elrond like an equal and takes him seriously where others might remark on his half-elven parentage for example.

They try to wait it out, make light of the situation. Elrond makes awkward jokes, Adar's jokes accidentally get way too flirty due to nervousness, after a short while they do end up staring at each other's lips and it's Elrond going 'I can play it off as part of the party game if he doesn't want me' and then they kiss.

...the elves eventually have to investigate because those two are *not* leaving that closet again. For the sake of their sanity, they leave the two in peace. It's Brimby and Círdan who mutter "finally" to the shock of the others.

Adar/Celebrimbor (modern!AU)

People think it's funny, to put resident-rebel Adar and prim-and-proper Celebrimbor in the closet for Seven Minutes of Heaven together. It's good natured fun! Totally hilarious! They are going to be so flustered (Brimby) - or annoyed (Adar).

Instead, Adar is kinda flustered because he actually likes Celebrimbor and admires his skills, his wit, his kindness. But the smith would never be into him like that, right? Meanwhile Celebrimbor is all serene, makes a joke about how 'cozy' the closet is, then walks over to Adar and essentially goes 'I think we are supposed to kiss. Do you want to?'

Adar has a bit of a bluescreen moment, is a bit skeptical at first, but when Celebrimbor holds his gaze and smiles encouragingly he agrees. They kiss. It's *really* nice.

Adar is a bit flushed at the end of it. Brimby breaks the kiss, also affected, but then puts on a mischievious grin. And suggests they should pretend that nothing happened, act completely clueless and as if they just chatted. Because that the faces of the others will be priceless.

The uruk thinks he likes where this is going, and agrees.

Everyone else is sooo disappointed! The two of them smirk knowingly at each other later on though.

'Maybe our next kiss can be outside a closet?' Adar suggests. Brimby smirks back at him and agrees enthusiastically.

[wowstrawberrycow]

The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which two characters are you shoving in the closet together and how do they pass their seven minutes? Give me three rounds of this game (three pairings, repeats ok)

(inspired by @whenimaunicorn sending me the same ask game)

Elrond(Lotr/Hobbit)XThranduil

It’s no secret that Thranduil throws the best parties in Middle Earth. He always makes it a point to invite his “good friend” Elrond. See, everyone thinks Elrond merely puts up with Thranduil’s antics out of obligation. Most also believe that he attends those ridiculous events to be polite. So everyone thinks it would be hilarious to shove them both in the closet together.

Once inside Thrandy is the first to lock lips with Lord Elrond. “I’ve been dying for your touch all evening. It isn’t fair... I miss you.” Thranduil presses his lips to Elrond's again.

This time Elrond slips his tongue between the blonde's soft pair deepening their embrace. “I know darling… I wish I did not have to long for you from afar… at least we can have a moment's peace, by indulging in this silly game.” Elrond easily scooped the taller elf into his arms.

Thranduil whimpered, lifting a leg for Elrond’s gentle fingers to caress. “Dearest… I need you properly later. I’ll be a perfect doll for you. No fits this time. I just want you.” He hummed moaning as his rump was gently petted.

Elrond's Fingers traveled across his thigh and back down to his posterior for a loving grope “Good boy. I look forward to that.” Elrond’s hand traveled up to brace his doll’s back before pressing him against the wall.

Thranduil wrapped his legs around his waist pulling Elrond closer. “I love you, Daddy…More than you’ll ever know.” His whimpering grew louder as Elrond continued to massage the blonde’s ass cheeks.

Upon falling into another long deep kiss sprinkled with heavy moaning and longing the door had opened. Silence fell upon the room as the shocking sight filled the party goer's eyes. Many confusing things had been explained in that instant about their strange relationship. After hearing Lindir clear his throat Elrond turned quite unphased by the situation.

Thranduil felt a tinge of fear come over him as he was usually guarded with his affection. The blonde clung to his dom shaking with uncertainty as he had been fully exposed. Without his cold steely exterior, he felt like a target for all who saw him.

Elrond however kept his wits calm. He pressed his doll's face to his shoulder and carried Thranduil out of the closet. Then he promptly left the room for a place of privacy. It was very clear Thranduil, his beautiful submissive, needed to be soft and required strong support.

Legolas X Gimli (Same party)

Legolas upon seeing their father being whisked away in the arms of Lord Elrond, extended a hand to their short dwarven lover. “I believe you owe me, my love.”

Gimli huffed, placing a handful of his precious handmade sweets into his hand.

“We volunteer to be next.” Legolas carried their lover much like one would hold a teddy bear into the closet without waiting for an answer from the still-shocked crowd.

Lindir rolled his eyes.’Naturally, they would.’

It was no secret that Legolas and Gimli were more than just an item. They were bonded together. They were married to one another not long after the ring had been destroyed. Neither of them bothered to close the door. Legolas dropped to their knees to pepper their husband’s face with kisses. It was Lindir who then slammed the door with a blush on his face. This made the couple smirk.

“My dearest wish, will you not feed me those sweets? Like you often do?” Legolas opened his mouth waiting right after he returned the handmade goods to the dwarf.

“Of course my prinxess. How could I refuse?” Gimli chuckled, getting lost in his spouse's eyes. How beautiful they were. He plopped a piece of candy on their tongue savoring the sight of their darling’s enjoyment of it. As expected this feeding turned into a wild stream of playful kisses.

A loud sweet squeak escaped Legolas as they were tackled to the ground. “Don’t you dare you silly sneak!” Legolas spoke dramatically before he erupted into laughter.

“Oh, ye should expect this by now little gem! Daddy does as he pleases! And right now, I wish to hear that lovely voice ringing like a bell. Let them hear how happy I make you.” Gimli rained tickling fingers across his spouse’s stomach.

All while he was tickling, he began to kiss his lover's face repeatedly. Not long after the two of them were hauled out of the closet. However, their loving antics did not cease. They snuggled each other happily seated by the fireplace in the party hall. Each was content in lightly exchanging kisses and gentle caresses as the party continued.

Adar X Celebrimbor (Brimby) (Also at the same party. Because in my perfect lil shipper world, these two have happy lives together!! They also are a subXsub couple. I need this to be clear.)

The next pair to be chosen was a pair the crowd was sure would have an awkward time together. This was a game after all. Amusement was ultimately the end goal.

Adar was dragged from his hiding place in the corner. He had been eyeing the chatty mouse Celebrimbor all night. Much to Adar’s awkward protest, he was shoved into the closet with him. The door slammed shut.

Celebrimbor stared at the man nervously letting out a breath “ I’m so sorry they forced you into such a predicament. I’ll have a word with them.” Brimby looked shyly in his direction.

“No. no there’s no need for that old friend. I think I actually enjoy this small space with your company.” Adar closed the gap between them. He laid his head upon the other’s shoulders. “ I dare say I may even be glad you decided to take me with you to this get-together,” Adar spoke in earnest, his heart swelled. Maybe now could be his chance.

“Are you quite sure? I know being the center of attention is not exactly something you-” Brimby's words were cut off with the shy kiss of Adar’s lips. Brimby melted into the uruk’s touch.

“I’ve waited a very long time for that,” Adar spoke in a soft tone. He pulled back, twiddling his fingers. Immediately expecting rejection he sighed “If It’s too much I under-” Adar was soon cut off by the sweet embrace of Brimby’s arms.

“No sweet one, it is not too much. In fact, I would say that it’s just right. Though perhaps we might do it again.” Brimby very gently cupped the side of Adar’s face then leaned forward for a deep more meaningful exchange. He shyly worked the uruk’s lips open sliding his tongue inside to explore his mouth.

Adar’s face flushed with soft pink colors dashing across his cheeks. He couldn’t resist snuggling into Brimby’s embrace. Silent tears of happiness spilled from his eyes “So… This is happiness I’m allowed to keep?” he stroked Brimby’s gentle face.

“Yes sweetheart, It is. I wouldn’t have it any other way, my beautiful dusk.” Brimby gently leaned in to nuzzle his nose against Adar’s. “Why don’t we talk somewhere privately? You seem to have much on your mind.” He gracefully wiped away his new lover’s tears.

“Yes… I think I would like that very much. This isn’t the most romantic location in any sense.” Adar leaned on the mousey man. “Please.. Will you hold my hand as we exit?” he asked nervously.

“Of course dearest, I’ll be right here with you as I always have been. I will never leave your side.” Brimby hummed sweetly while combing fingers through his kitten’s hair, in hopes it would soothe his nerves.

After a moment Adar nodded, gripping his mouse’s hand tightly. They walked out receiving questioning looks as they excited room for a safer place to snuggle.

--------

Omg!! I had such a blast writing these!! Thank you for the prompt!!! Hope you liked them!

[gingeragenda]

mutual something’s going on

"The others are mostly crowded around an Elf he has not seen before, her wide eyes glistening with tears, and at once he knows they will insist he be the one to initiate her as they inevitably do. He does not understand their motivation in this, does not want to be the one to defile her so, but after all he has done to their unhappy kind already, he cannot deny their sole request of him."

I AM NOT READY FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! UNGH IT'S MY EXACT KINK

I have to save this for when I'm alone, maybe with a glass of red and really savor it ...

About to re-read this specifically to get me in the mood for writing a voyeurism themed chapter of Curiosity

Hope Infatuation does not disappoint 🍷

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

🫖

So the question is "if you had a tea party with the blorbos you write the most, how would it go?"

The answer is:

Adar would serve me with papers for emotional damage. 🫣

Erenyë would propose a three-way. 🥵

Thanks @whenimaunicorn for the ask ��

[mylovelylittleobsessions]

WIP Wednesday mini-edition

For @lazyneonrabbitt & @whenimaunicorn , a behind the scenes look at an upcoming fic - Ainur With Filthy Souls

(It’s Sauron vs the Uruk kiddos, Home Alone style)

The kiddos have left Celebrimbor with a guardwarg that Sauron tries to tame. Unfortunately, this warg happens to be Eru’s Specialest Creature…

What Sauron says in Black Speech: I am your master now. You will obey my orders. Your fangs are my weapons to wield.

What RanRan hears: Blah blah blah chicken, blah blah tax evasion, blah blah blah Good Boy.

[gingeragenda]

Interesting what pops up on twt

@whenimaunicorn @maironscrotchlessbreeches 😆

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The One He Chose

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Summary: After all this time has Ivar finally caught his wife's trail?

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Anyone working under the delusion that Ivar would accept the fact that his wife had escaped him eventually learned that would not be the case.

His men had stopped their violent search of Kattegat, just as he had promised Bjorn, but he was still searching for her.

Even as the months went on to become nearly a full year.

(Y/N) had been missing for ten months, one week and four days, Ivar was keeping count of his lonely nights. Despite how the people talked he had not let Freydis warm his bed in his wife’s absence.

Instead he spent most of his days and nights in his war room, looking over all the maps of other cities and villages that Kattegat traded with the most. He was furious at the fact that there had been no news from any of his informants, and his relationship with his brothers did little to comfort him.

Bjorn was, as he expected, furious at his sending off warriors to such vital trading cities. He had shouted himself nearly blue when he’d arrived at Ivar’s estate; of course he let the King do his whining and even allowed him to smash his war table in his tantrum, because to him none of it mattered.

His ships had sailed, his warriors deployed and there was nothing to be done about it; not by Bjorn or even himself. Hvitserk, like he always had, chose to remain neutral in the argument. Ubbe was clearly on Bjorn’s side, but unlike Bjorn, Ubbe seemed to understand why he had acted so hastily even if he disapproved of the actions.

Currently Ubbe was the only one of his brothers who had friendly conversations with him, and Ivar would never be able to express how much he appreciated the company in these hard months.

‘Still no news?’ Ubbe asked as they both sat on the beach and watched a merchant ship approach.

‘Nearly a hundred spies and no good news.’ Ivar sighed.

‘No good news?’ the eldest questioned.

‘My spies reported at last that they had a difficult time keeping track of (Y/N) in my time away, she would leave town alone around midday…and would not return home until nearly sunset.’ Ivar confessed, laying back in the sand and covering his eyes.

Ubbe felt his heart begin to beat faster, but he was not sure how much information Ivar truly had on the subject they were discussing.

‘You think she had an affair?’

‘I do not know, that is what tortures me brother. Not knowing things has always angered me, and now it seems I know less than ever. I don’t know if she was unfaithful, I don’t know where she is; all I know is she isn’t here.’

Ubbe had such conflicting feelings battling in his chest as he watched a few easy to miss tears roll down his brother's face. He was relieved to not have been discovered as (Y/N)’s lover, but still he was upset to see his brother in pain and know he was at least partially responsible for it.

‘If you think she was unfaithful why continue the search? Let go of your devotions and remarry, you have no obligations to her.’

'Why would I ever think such a thing?' Ivar asked, his anger visibly raising.

‘I will not let go, Ubbe.’ Ivar said as he sat back up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.

‘Not of her, not my marriage and not my anger. I will find her and she will answer every question I have.’

‘But what if you don’t find her? So far it has been nearly a year and you have had no progression in your search. It pains me to see you destroying yourself and your reputation for one woman you can replace so easily.’

Ivar looked over at his brother incredulously.

‘She can’t be replaced, not by Freydis or any woman in this world. She feared me Ubbe, do you understand that? From the day we stepped into that insignificant Christian kingdom, she looked at an army and still she feared me the most out of them.’

‘Ivar, every woman you have spoken to fears you. It would be impossible to find a woman in Kattegat you did not terrify.’

‘I know that, but how many of them would be brave enough to marry someone as vicious as me? How many would make that sacrifice? She could have stayed quiet and let any of those women be dragged away, but she stepped forward. Those Christian men offered her up like a lamb for sacrifice and still she wanted them to live, and was even smart enough to know how to play my mind games.’ Ivar explained.

‘How could I replace a woman like that, a woman that brave, who fears a filthy cripple like me?’

Ubbe sighed and stood up, looking out at the sea and saw that the ship was nearly at the docks, but he decided he could offer his younger brother some advice.

‘You shouldn’t want her to fear you, Ivar. How can anyone love what they fear?’

Ivar looked taken aback, as if he’d never considered not terrifying his wife, but instead of responding he turned his focus over to the ship crew that was unloading the boat.

‘I don’t see how he thought he was secretive?’ one of the men said casually as he helped to dock the ship.

‘He’s young, he’s never smuggled a damn thing and it shows,’

Ivar’s ears perked up upon hearing this conversation and he quickly called the two merchants over; abandoning his own chat with Ubbe.

The two men looked over at the princes curiously; as they had not been aware of the chaotic search for the Christian nun that had occurred while they were at sea.

‘Prince Ivar, Prince Ubbe.’ one of them greeted and the other nodded in agreement.

‘I’m happy that the Gods brought you all back to us, I would like to treat your crew to a small feast on my estate in the next fortnight.’ Ivar said cheerily.

Ubbe quickly understood the game Ivar was playing and he decided he wanted no part in it at all.

He bid his brother a less than polite goodbye and left the two men to Ivar’s manipulation.

A feast for a simple unimportant ship crew was unheard of, especially a feast given by a prince. It would have been considered a great sign of disrespect to decline his hospitality.

The two men thanked Ivar for his unwarranted kindness and went to let the others know that they would all, along with their families, be expected at the youngest Prince’s estate.

Ivar watched the ship crew discuss their surprising treat and he pulled himself up onto his crutches and began to walk back to the markets.

As he limped along his way he subtly motioned for one of his spies, a thrall working outside of the butcher’s stand, to walk along side him.

Obediently the man followed the wordless order and matched Ivar’s pace.

‘Everyone under my purse is to watch the men on the merchant ship that just docked. Every man is to be followed for the next fortnight. I will expect daily reports if anyone fails to report even one hour of their actions I will have them hung.’ Ivar said strictly not looking at the man at all.

As he had wished, his warning went a long way in getting the results he wanted. He received reports in the crewmens’ every action, he’d even gotten reports describing their trips into the woods to relieve themselves.

Still no news of his wife or of what the two men suspected a crew mate of smuggling, but Ivar was sure that this was the right ship.

He had discovered the ship had sailed off the morning after (Y/N) had vanished.

Ivar tasked his thralls with preparing for the feast and he was impressed with how well they had performed.

By the night his feast was set to happen he had large tables sat outside under a cloudless starlit sky and there were heaps of fine dishes and mead as well as wine from England.

The crewmen were all in awe of the extravagant show of hospitality and everyone gave him their thanks in person.

Ivar mingled among them and was pleased that the news of his wife's disappearance had become common knowledge to all of the men.

‘May I speak with you Prince Ivar?’ one of the men asked as he approached the high table.

Ivar was quick to recognize the man as one of the men he’d spoken to on the beach.

‘Of course come with me.’

With a great amount of control Ivar calmly led the man into his home away from the festivities.

‘What would you like to discuss?’ the prince asked.

‘Forgive my intruding, but I have heard of your wife’s disappearance, and I- I think I have some information to give.’ I asked.

This was what Ivar had planned; to give the crew such a grand feast that at least one man would be grateful enough to betray one another.

‘Please, I would owe you an unimaginable debt if you could help me find my wife.’ Ivar said cunningly.

‘I can’t be sure if it was your wife, all I know is that Amund had someone in that crate. We more experienced in smuggling saw him speaking with it, sliding his rations into it even.’ the old man said.

‘A crate?’ Ivar asked.

‘Yes, big crate, it could easily fit one person, maybe even two.’

‘Two?’ Ivar said, feeling his grip on his crutch tighten in his anger.

She’d had an affair and ran off with some nobody; she’d decided weeks locked in a crate with another man was better than the rest of her life with him.

‘You said this man’s name was…?’ Ivar questioned, struggling to keep his anger hidden.

‘Amund, strong boy; he went ahead of the rest of us and the first thing off the boat was the crate.’

Ivar took in all this information, trying to piece together what all this implied and he determined he needed more to work with.

‘Tell me, what happened after the merchandise was unloaded. Did he hide the crate?’

‘No, the crate was in the assigned room when we all brought in the rest, still nailed shut too. The Earl granted us his hospitality to rest after our journey.’

Again Ivar was silent, trying very hard to picture in his mind what could have happened. If (Y/N) was in the crate and this Amund was the one responsible for getting her out why did he leave it sealed?

‘Big enough for two…’ he mused, thinking that if there was a man strong enough inside with her he could break out of the crate with her then she could have escaped with him.

‘Was this crate ever damaged, or moved?’ he asked the crewman.’

‘No, at least not to my knowledge, but the journey had been harder on my body than usual in my advanced age. When the Earl offered us rest I rested, but I did hear rumors.’ the man continued.

‘Rumors?’

‘The merchants spoke of one of our crewmen walking into the Great Hall carrying an unconscious woman. I never saw her, but she was the topic of much gossip while we restocked the ship.’

‘Did anyone on your ship see this woman, even a glimpse of her?’

‘I can not say with certainty, I can only say that Amund smuggled someone out of Kattegat.’

The anger for the old man’s lack of knowledge was red hot and only cooled by his relief of finally having a lead.

Thank you for telling what you could, please enjoy the feast with your family. It is a celebration in the honor of you and all traders like you, what would our world look like without brave men like you all.’ the prince complimented as he dismissed the man.

As soon as the man was out of earshot Freydis, silent as death, immerged from the shadows of the dim lit room.

‘Spread the word, I want this man, Amund identified, and followed. He shouldn’t be able to sneeze without me knowing when and where.’ Ivar ordered, his voice much harder than it had been mere seconds ago.

‘For how long?’

‘As long as it takes for him to let down his guard and let the information slip.’

While Ivar’s spies began to focus on Amund, all the way in Denmark, (Y/N) was adapted into her new life.

In the first week of her new life as a thrall she quickly realized two things.

The first was that the life of a nun and the life of a thrall was eerily similar in many regards. An older, more hardened and experienced woman would assign tasks to her and then would judge if the task was completed correctly and met her standards. If she did well she would be given another, often more challenging task, but if it did not meet Hilda’s standards there was punishment.

It was a rare occasion when (Y/N) was on the receiving end of Hilda’s wrath, which was why her punishments always seemed so harsh in comparison to the other girls.

The second thing was that, even despite the hatred the head thrall clearly had for her, she greatly preferred the life of a thrall over the life she had fled from.

Sure the shed the thralls all shared was cold and hardly much of a shelter at all but she slept fine knowing she wouldn’t wake up to Ivar’s rage.

And even better she found other Christians among the women she now shared status with.

It felt as if she had been welcomed into a new church, even if it had only been a small circle consisting of three women of various ages.

There was Kendra, the youngest being only around nineteen who had been captured and sold from York. Dawn was in her mid thirties and was a cook, she had never said where she was from originally, just that she had been only thirteen when she became the old cook’s apprentice. Finally there was Megan who was closer to (Y/N)’s age being twenty four, she was originally from Essex.

After two years of hiding her faith from her tyrannical husband, praying amongst others was euphoric. Holding hands in prayer was what she looked forward to most when she awoke at first light.

Every morning she would be awakened by Hilda whacking a wooden stick against the walls of the shed from outside before the doors of the shed were thrown open.

‘Get up! Work to be done!’ she boomed unnecessarily.

It was common knowledge that anyone still laying down by the time the doors opened would not only be promptly hit with the stick but they also would get no first meal.

The term meal was used loosely, it was only gr Rx bone broth and uncooked crops or, if they were so lucky, scraps from feasts.

Today’s meal was bone broth and carrots, after receiving her portion (Y/N) went to the corner with her small group and they shared a brief prayer over your meal before eating quickly.

‘What is your chore list today Kendra?’ she asked the youngest.

‘Caring for the Earl’s stock.’ was the answer she was given.

‘Be sure you give the chickens enough, the last few we’ve cooked were more feathers than meat.’ Dawn sighed.

‘I will be…preparing for a visitor.’ Megan said quietly, hardly touching her small meal.

At this all of them went silent.

Megan was often used as a cleaning girl around the great hall, but on the rare occasion that the Earl had important company she was a bed warmer.

It was a truly horrible fate for any woman but it seemed to be an especially cruel task for a Christian.

Every night before Hilda came in to order everyone to sleep they all joined hands in a silent prayer, but even still it was obvious Megan only prayed for God’s mercy and forgiveness.

(Y/N) reached out and took Megan’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

‘God knows your heart and he knows your mind and spirit. He knows what sins you choose to commit and he knows the sins done against you. He will always forgive your sins and in time he will punish those who have sinned you.’ she encouraged.

Megan held onto the hand that she had been offered. Of course all the women of this small congregation were close, but Megan had such a strong connection and admiration for (Y/N).

The lie that Amund had told the Earl was widely believed and widely discussed in the markets. Meaning it was well known that (Y/N) was a runaway bed warmer herself.

It was for this reason that Megan looked at (Y/N) such wonder and great respect. In her unknowing eyes (Y/N) had done the impossible; escaped a lifetime of being nothing but a common whore for Pagans.

‘Hurry up you dogs! There's work to be done and if even one task isn’t completed then no one eats tonight!’ Hilda’s voice boomed.

Realizing that she hadn’t been focusing on her already cooling broth (Y/N) quickly drank the remaining liquid in the wooden bowl and stuck her carrots into her skirts.

Hopefully she would get a moment to sneak away and eat them before nightfall, if not then she would give it away to a beggar.

They all arose and set out to their assigned work locations.

Hilda sent a glare of pure malice at (Y/N) as she passed her on the way out of the shed.

‘If I hear so much as a word against you from the healers I’ll have you flogged.’ the old haggish woman warned.

‘Yes Hilda.’ (Y/N) replied, the air of respect and responsibility in her tone before she went on.

She had been assigned as a healer’s apprentice due to her telling the Earl she had some experience in that field of work.

Her days were spent gathering herbs and roots, mixing and brewing, occasionally there will be a person who is injured or falls so ill they need physical care and when that happens she would be the one to give them care. She would clean them, try to close up or disinfect their wounds and feed them remedies.

Today when she entered the healer’s hut she was met with the now familiar scent of living rotting flesh.

‘Girl.’ the healer, an old ragged woman named Skadi, called to her from the table where she was laying out her supplies.

‘Who is it?’ the thrall asked as she approached.

‘One of the Earl’s blacksmiths; got his foolish self cut and didn’t think to clean the sore.’

‘Infection, can it be treated?’

‘No, but he’ll survive.’ Skadi said sadly as she placed her necessary materials on a tray.

There were ropes to tie off the blood flow and restrain him, a leather strap to keep the man from biting off or swallowing his tongue, and a red hot ax in order to both remove the limb and cauterize the wound.

You hated doing this but it was necessary, the hut stunk with infection but it didn’t smell of death quite yet.

The man was older, maybe forty but clearly he’d lived a hard life to reach that age. He was quiet but his chest was heaving as if he had been fighting for each breath. His eyes were screwed shut and his head was turned away from his rotting hand.

It truly was disgusting to see a hand that mangled. The wound was still open, but no longer bleeding leaving an open gash caked in blackened blood and crusted puss.

She went about tying him down, making sure to be extra precise when restraining the arm that would soon be handless.

This was how she spent her days, in the hut with the sick and injured. It was a far cry from her old life in Kattegat. She was no longer a prince’s wife that was tended to by a full staff of thralls. Now she was herself thrall and she was called upon to do hard, truly hard, work and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaving the hut for the day (Y/N) found herself exhausted but hopeful that the man would be ok once he was rested.

As she made her way back to the shed she chomped on the carrots she had stored away from breakfast, thankful to have them at least in case someone really didn’t finish their chores and no one was given dinner tonight.

It was as she finished her last carrot that something compelled her to look over at the beach as she neared the shed.

There was a ship, of course there was a ship at the beach; where else would a ship be if not at sea. That wasn’t what made her stop in her tracks, it was undoubtedly a Kattegat ship.

By no means was (Y/N) an expert on such things but after two years she could single out Floki’s handiwork from any other boat builder.

Those sails, the dragon figurehead…that was not a merchant ship.

With her heart racing she hurried into the shed and huddled into the corner where she slept, but she did not lay down.

She just sat with her hands fiddling with the threads of her skirts, as she thought back to the morning conversation she’d had.

A visitor, an important enough visitor to be offered a bed warmer.

How had she not thought to ask who this visitor was? She prayed with all her heart that it wasn’t Ivar, but there was no way to be sure.

No, Ivar couldn’t know which boat you snuck onto, even if he did he wouldn’t just devote himself to hunting you.

At least not personally.

Ivar was a prince of a wealthy kingdom, as well as a respected warlord in his own right. What man would dare to disobey him if he ordered them to find you.

Everything was hitting her all at once.

She would have to leave tonight…run until she made it to the next town.

With what? No food, supplies or weapons to protect yourself? This wasn’t like the cold journey to Floki’s that last night. This would be a three day trip by foot. Not to mention it was no longer winter. It was spring and roads would be busy and therefore dangerous. A woman in rags traveling alone was little more than an invitation for a rapist on his way.

It wasn’t ideal by any means but it was either risk the dangers of the road or stay and be turned over to Ivar by whatever man Ivar had sent after her.

‘(Y/N), you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ Kendra said as she sat beside her.

‘Not to be dramatic, but it feels as if I have.’

[gingeragenda]

@whenimaunicorn for real

yeah bro it's a character study. the 2 thousand words of blowjob is vital to the study of the character

[greenleaf4stuff]

Decided to spontaneously edit and publish the 2nd round of ideas for the ask game by @whenimaunicorn (original post here)

"The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which two characters are you shoving in the closet together and how do they pass their seven minutes? Give me three rounds of this game (three pairings, repeats ok)"

The answers are a little bit more suggestive this time, in that they hint that the characters might continue their activities and add some non-G-rated ones, but nothing of that kind actually happens in these snippets. It's just more smooches. Enjoy!

The pairings are: Adar/Elrond (modern!AU, ver2) Adar/Gil-Galad (modern!AU) Adar/Elendil (modern!AU)

I also already crossposted these to the AO3 drabble collection for my ask game answers.

Adar/Elrond (Modern!AU) (Ver 2)

Adar and Elrond have to go into the closet together. Elrond seems pretty pissed off about it, Adar affects an air of nonchalance – in part because he has absolutely no idea what the peredhel’s deal is.

After a few silent, somewhat awkward moments in the closet, Adar quirks an eyebrow and turns to Elrond, who is glaring at him. When he asks what Elrond’s problem is, he snarks about Adar making moon eyes at Galadriel, and then breaks into a tirade about the uruk better leaving his best friend alone.

Adar is a bit stunned – he’s flirted with Galadriel, yes. He’s also flirted with all the other elves. Including Elrond. He first tries to calm Elrond down, but when the other starts turning red-headed starting from the cheeks (and the tips of his ears, funnily enough) because of his anger, Adar turns fully towards him and they start getting heated.

Eventually, they are standing pretty close together and Adar snarks something about how 'actually kissing would have been far preferable to whatever this is', and then Elrond suddenly just stops, purses his lips, glares, takes Adar’s head and – kisses him. And then walks him backwards into the closet wall and practically climbs into his mouth.

(Elrond is indeed protective of Galadriel. It just so happens that he also maybe-kinda-sorta has a crush on Adar too. His wasn’t a blush of anger.)

Adar doesn’t know what is happening for a good moment, before he starts kissing Elrond back. The other can hold his own against him, is a good kisser, and Adar cannot deny that he actually thought about kissing Elrond before (and more).

When they leave the closet, kiss-bitten and flushed, Galadriel and Gil-Galad look ready to kill the uruk. Who actually hasn’t been much for serious relationships for quite a while now. Seeing their glares – and even more importantly, Elrond’s flustered face – Adar knows something casual is not going to cut it with this one.

However, when Elrond does indeed put himself between Adar and the wrath of two overprotective elves and then gives him a small, apologetic smile afterwards, the uruk finds he doesn’t actually dislike the idea of going steady with the other. Quite the contrary in fact.

Adar/Gil-Galad (modern!AU)

They are both side-eying the other as they enter the closet. The others seem a bit apprehensive – as if the two could get into an epic fight or even a brawl if left alone for too long. Galadriel of all people tries to make Gil swear not to cause a scene. He refuses to answer.

The two quickly start throwing barbs at each other. Anything they can imagine that would be better than being stuck in that closet with the other one – getting mauled by a warg. Starring in one of Sauron’s beige instagram videos. A drinking contest with a group of dwarves.

Still, they gravitate towards each other. It turns to boasts about their own prowess. "You‘d have to work hard to impress me," Gil-Galad claims. "I could make you melt with just my mouth," Adar retorts.

"Is that so? Well, if you are more than just big, empty words – prove it."

Adar knows it’s a trap, but the bait is too good not to take and he’s assured of his 'victory', so he goes all in and they kiss.

Adar thinks he has the superior strength on his side, which might indeed be true – but Gil-Galad has a little something called a 'refined technique' and it’s quickly turning Adar to mush in his hands and under his mouth. The uruk barely knows up from down when they break the kiss for a moment, and readily submits when Gil goes for seconds.

Safe to say, when the other elves open the closet doors to let them out after some very high-pitched moaning, a decidedly smug if unflappable Gil-Galad and a very confused and dishevelled Adar step out.

Gil goes back to drinking his wine as if nothing happened. Adar is tickled enough that, once the evening is over, he stalks up to Gil and demands a 'rematch'. Gil is only too willing to kiss Adar into the ground a second time, but this round, he’ll take him back his place instead of a closet.

Adar/Elendil (modern!AU)

They both groan when they get chosen to go into the closet together – not because they hold any antipathy for each other, but because they think the whole game is pretty ridiculous and they cannot believe they got roped into it in the first place.

Still, they decide not to be a spoilsport. Elendil makes a whole 'after you' gesture and holds open the closet door for the uruk when they enter the closet. It’s kind of goofy but also endearing in Adar’s opinion.

They stand there awkwardly for a while, before they end up complaining to each other how this whole situation is a baloney. They are too old for this kind of bullshit, and anyways, whoever thought it would be fun to put people in a tiny, stuffy closet together? Whoever thought kissing in a tiny, stuffy closet would be nice?

They don’t get it. However, Elendil ends up turning to Adar with a curious expression on his face. Adar raises his eyebrows at him. "Wanna try?" the man asks, expression completely serious and sounding as if he doesn’t just ask for the sake of it, but because he might actually be interested?

After a moment, Adar shrugs and goes. "Sure, why not." It’s not exactly romantic at first, but when they end up kissing properly, they quickly lose themselves in it – both of them are actually good kissers, both know what they want, and once they’ve figured out where to put their hands and what works, it is actually pretty enjoyable to kiss in a tiny, stuffy closet.

After a moment, Elendil draws back, panting heavily and goes: "As much as I like this, I am indeed to old to go further in the confines of a cupboard without regretting it in the morning."

Adar just smirks. "Then you might be glad to know that I have a perfectly servicable bed back at my place that we could make use of. If you wanted to."

Elendil grins at him. It’s incredibly attractive, Adar thinks. "Is that so? Well, I can hardly just take your word for it – seems like I’ll have to check out that fabled bed of yours for myself."

They are slightly flushed but deliberately casual when they exist the closet. However, after a short while, Galadriel notices that neither Adar nor Elendil can be found anywhere, and it is Celebrimbor who points out that Elendil’s car is missing from the parked cars outside, while Adar’s bike is still there.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Weird request. I want a comfort fic snippet specifically about zombie Adar. Subtle and poignant is fine. If you have it in you on this darkest of days.

okay @whenimaunicorn ask and ye shall receive (and thank you for successfully getting me to concentrate on something artistic and distracting on this darkest of days.)

so you asked for "zombie adar comfort fic" so i'm giving you... a missing scene from "sister golden hair" from Zombie Adar's POV where he is kinda heart-eyes over Mirdania and her hair, and tries his best to comfort her.

He's not super great at it, though. On account of he is, in fact, a Zombie.

Gold. That is what he follows. Golden hair, like afternoon sun. Streaming out behind her, lifted by wind, the same wind that he feels, icy cold upon his face. It steadies his step, having something to follow. But she is fast. She evades. Among the trees, it had been easy. There had been one clear path, and she had taken it. But now there are too many. Streets that intersect and curve. Tall buildings that obscure the way ahead. Dead bodies to step over. He loses her. He stumbles. Unsteady. Yet still he walks. Lumbers. Searches. He sniffs for traces of her scent. Light and sweet, like a glade of flowers. He had memorized it in the forest, when she had rested against him. He had been content to lie there, like a stone fringed by fragrant columbines. The forest had been quiet. Peaceful. Nothing to do but watch the fluttering leaves and the shifting sun. He could have stayed. Something tells him he was meant to stay. But she had gone. And he had followed. … He finds her scent near an open courtyard and follows it into one of the buildings. There are stairs that wind and he struggles. Lifting legs. Climbing up. Then there is a scream. It fills him with cold. It steals his breath—like stepping outside to snow and ice. His limbs remember a cold like that. The sound changes. It shatters into a cry. Many pieces. Many tears. He thinks of wetness on his neck. Mournful noises. Little phantom hands that had clawed, noses that had nuzzled against his chest. He remembers holding. Young ones. Sometimes older ones, too. After battles. After births. Always too many tears. He reaches the top of the stairs. He sees golden hair waiting, and something inside him lifts... ...then it falls, as she lets out another sob. The sound is a snare. It pulls him toward her. A word comes to him as he draws near. A word that means falling tears and shaking shoulders and quivering lips. Sad. She is sad. She cries out again, and he can feel the place in his own chest where his own sobs are stored. But he cannot make the sound himself. Instead, he reaches for her. To comfort. To help. He catches a few strands of her hair. It feels soft beneath his fingers. She sways and falls and he is not fast enough to stop her. … The cause of her sorrow is a body, riddled with arrows, raised high on a pole and pinned against a column. In its face, there is suffering. Death’s ugly stain. The familiarity of it stirs something inside him. His hands know what to do. How to handle the body. How to prepare it for burning. Flames, into darkness. … She cries out in her sleep. It jerks him from the stupor that had settled over his limbs. Another sad cry. Another pain sprearing his chest. As he moves toward her, he hears her teeth chatter. The curse of cold. He knows it well. He had wandered long in a frozen wasteland. Many had followed him. Their sharp teeth had rattled through the long, moonless nights, and there had been little to cover them. He searches. He finds. A cloth—soft and thick and warm. Something to shield her from the sting of cold. In the center of the darkened room, he kneels and drapes the covering over her. Beneath the moonlight, her hair is a different color. Until the first light of dawn, he lingers by her side, under the spell of its silvery sheen.

ANYWAY, I HOPE IF YOU'RE SAD, ZOMBIE ADAR COMES TO YOU AND COVERS YOU GENTLY WITH A WARM BLANKET.

also, bonus track that's just too perfect for Them: