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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

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Double Heart | Chapter Six ~ Haldir

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Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 4044

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Happy Thursday! Thanks for all your responses so far -- I’m so grateful! Alright, time to see what Haldir thinks of all this!

We are sixteen days into our journey when we reach the mountains.

We made good time, considering all the stops and adjusting for our human guests. Now that I know they are more capable than I anticipated, I will be pushing us to clear the ranges in five days. I do not want to travel these mountains any longer than necessary.

Everyone feels the tension. My right hand never leaves the hilt of my sword and I know my brothers travel in a similar fashion. While I am always careful when traveling through the orc-infested mountains, this time more so than usual. The stakes are higher. Lavandil is trusting me to deliver her betrothed to her in one piece. My brothers and Baranor are trusting me to guide them safely on this treacherous journey. And the humans…

Well. They can’t possibly know what they’ve gotten into, so that’s on me, too. They have no experience in battle, nor do they seem ready for a fight. I worry they’ve never even seen an orc, at least not that they can remember. I am as responsible for them as I am for the kin that accompany me.

I turn on Faervel to face my companions, trusting Orophin to watch my back as I take in those that follow me. My brothers are watchful like I am, one hand on a weapon, one hand holding the reins. Their eyes constantly observe our surroundings, never lingering on one spot for too long. Baranor looks mildly nervous — this is only his fifth pass through the mountains and I know his mind is running through his previous journey, remembering the warden we once nearly lost to a poisoned arrow. A dull ache throbs in my left shoulder. The wound is long ago healed — the memories, however, are not.

Cosima holds tight to Rumil, looking around worriedly. I never told her what we might face in the mountains, and maybe that wasn’t the right decision. Every sound makes her jump — she’s obviously expecting to be attacked at any second.

My eyes shift to Alexander, the most recent addition to our group, and I fight the urge to narrow my eyes. I don’t trust him. Not that I automatically trusted Cosima, but she hasn’t given me any reason to be suspicious. She helps with the chores and talks with us freely, even if she has been pulling back a little lately. Alexander can’t boast the same. He’s been nothing but standoffish and keeps himself isolated from the group — dragging Cosima with him.

He glowers at me, and I return his glare. Of course, mine has the force of nearly three thousand years as Marchwarden behind it, and the human quickly looks away.

I return to my inspection of the group. Cosima’s cloak is a beautiful, vibrant red—obviously made for style rather than the stealth and durability needed for travel. I haven’t the faintest idea why she would choose to dress that way if she knew she’d be traveling, nor what kind of leader wouldn’t catch it and make her change. This only serves to irritate the thought that’s been budding in the back of my mind since her arrival. Maybe she really isn’t from our world. Stranger things have happened. Alexander, too, has an unusual cloak, though not as bad as Cosima’s. His is a deep forest green — expensive, the kind that would take months of precise dyeing. Still a suitable color for travel, but not at all practical — already, it’s darkening with mud kicked up on our journey, ruining the maker’s handiwork. I don’t understand it and the mystery of their origins are too much to ponder on the road. So I resolve to deal with what I can now and handle the rest later. At present, Cosima can’t travel through the mountains in that bright red cloak.

I get her attention. “Put your cloak away in your bag, it’s too noticeable. If you get cold, someone will lend you theirs.” She visibly blanches at my words but balances herself atop Roch to do as I say. She is so clearly frightened and part of me wants to reassure her, to tell her not to worry, it’s just a precaution. But I can’t. Lying might make her feel better, but it would also set her at a disadvantage. It is better for her to be on edge. It will keep her sharp, and staying sharp can be the difference between life and death. I wouldn’t sugarcoat it for one of my wardens, so I won’t sugarcoat it for her.

Still, I can’t help myself from offering her some measure of security. I instruct Rumil to take position behind me and send Orophin to guard the back of our line. Perhaps Cosima will feel better being towards the middle of the group rather than at the very back — it is safer.

I put on my most well-practiced fortifying look and address the group. “Remember to ration your water — we won’t come across another stream for some time. With luck and perseverance, we will reach Imladris in five days. Cosima and Alexander — if we are attacked, stay on your horses. Rumil and Baranor will protect you.”

Rumil chuckles lowly and leans back in his seat to whisper to Cosima. “I can’t keep you safe if you strangle me first. Relax.”

Cosima laughs sheepishly and seems to make a concentrated effort at loosening her arms around Rumil.

I pull my eyes away, turning to look the right way down the path.

And off we go.

{***}

Weather in the mountains is unpredictable. There’s a faint breeze hinting at the possibility of rain, and I pray against it. Humans are so fragile compared to elves and I worry the two newcomers won’t do well in another day of downpour. I don’t mind the harsher conditions, my brothers, either — Valar knows how many drills we’ve run, battles we’ve fought in the extremes. But the humans, even Baranor, aren’t so conditioned.

I stop our company a little later than usual and send Rumil and Orophin to take first watch. Baranor pulls Alexander aside to redress the wound on his leg. Cosima and I stay to tend to the horses.

She glances at me from where she brushes Roch’s coat. I raise an eyebrow, cleaning my own horse. She purses her lips and I can tell that she’s scrutinizing me.

“You don’t like the mountains.”

There’s no point in lying. “No. Too many places for the enemy to hide.”

She’s silent for a moment, likely thinking through my words. Unexpectedly, I feel the bite of regret — I probably just scared her again. I should have kept my mouth shut.

Thankfully though, she doesn’t seem frightened. She smiles, a sort of serenity settling on her. “It’s kind of pretty though, if you can find a moment to enjoy it. Did you see the sun sinking over that peak way in front of us? It turned the sky purple and gold.”

I did notice the sky, but only briefly. I hadn’t even stopped to ponder its beauty, only checked to ensure no one hid on the horizon.

She sees the answer in my face and grins, shaking her head. “Maybe you’ll be able to relax once we reach Imladris. What’s it like, there?”

Now it’s my turn to smile, recalling my second favorite place in the world. “Beautiful — much more so than these mountains. There are waterfalls taller than any I’ve ever seen and they cast rainbows at sunrise and sunset. The main city rests on those falls and you can see the water sweeping under you, falling over the cliffs.”

She stares at Roch’s coat, a distant look in her eye. “How long are you planning to stay?”

You. Her question hangs between us as I analyze her use of the word. She didn’t say ‘we’ or make any reference to herself and Alexander. She’s making no promise to stay. That realization shouldn’t bother me, but, nevertheless, I feel discomfort settle in my stomach. I try to distract myself by answering her question. “A month or two, three at most. The journey home will take about three weeks and I want us in Lothlórien well before winter sets in.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

I blink, trying to follow her line of reasoning. I’ve got nothing. “How does that relate to what I just said?”

She closes her eyes, the peace leaving her and morphing into a pleading, distressed look. “Please just answer the question.”

The feeling in my stomach worsens and I hurry to say something to try and put her more at ease. “Honeyed breadrolls,” I blurt, not even sure if that’s my favorite.

She laughs weakly, looking at me from the side of her eyes. “That’s not a balanced meal.”

I grin, relieved to see the stress beginning to fade from her face. “You said favorite food, not healthiest.”

“Oh right, my bad.” She rolls her eyes, a playful light there that wasn’t present before.

Evidently annoyed with the lack of attention, Roch bumps his head against Cosima’s shoulder, snorting noisily. She giggles and pets the horse affectionately.

“He likes you,” I observe, the sight of them bringing a smile to my face.

Cosima shrugs. “He just wants snacks.”

There’s a pause and I feel a sense of urgency, needing to fill the silence before the conversation can come to an end. “What’s yours?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Hm?”

“Your favorite food.”

“Oh.” She pauses, looking at the ground in thought. When her eyes return to mine, she looks a little lost. “I don’t know. I don’t mind the lembas bread and fruits, though I couldn’t say for sure if it’s my favorite because I can’t remember much from my homeworld. I guess—well, I do remember some food here and there, but nothing stands out as my all-time favorite.”

Her admission seems to make her sad. I can understand that — it must be terrible to not know who you were or what your life was like. Once again, I feel the need to make her feel better. “Elrond won’t let us go hungry. There will be many new things for you to try.”

She opens her mouth, a spark lighting in her eyes, ready to respond.

The loud, heavy footsteps give away Alexander’s approach. Cosima hears it too and turns to see her incoming friend.

I let my face fall into a neutral expression, not entirely pleased with Alexander’s arrival. He is a lost human in need of help, just like Cosima, so I will offer him my protection and aid, just as I did to the woman at my side.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like him.

From what I’ve observed, he has a manipulative streak that I do not trust. I can understand not being ready to accept his new reality, but Cosima is trying to move on. He shouldn’t try to interfere with her progress.

He addresses Cosima only. “I’ve got dinner for us both. Meet me on the rock when you’re done?”

She shifts her feet, looking uncertain.

“No, you will stay with the main camp.” I hear my voice before I make the actual decision to speak. Cosima nods automatically—and, is it my imagination, or does she look a little relieved?Alexander only grimaces.

“Why?”

A muscle twitches in my cheek. I’m used to leading wardens that follow my every order. In this environment, one that is fraught with danger and requires constant attention and strict regimentation, I don’t like my orders being questioned. It’s not only a waste of time, but a danger to us all. I know well from the battlefield that hesitation—that single moment of questioning—can be the difference between life and death.

I raise an eyebrow, meeting the human’s challenging gaze. “The danger is heightened in these mountains. While you travel with my company, I am responsible for your safety. I will not have you all spread out — it makes it more difficult to protect you should the need arise.”

“I don’t want to sleep on a rock, anyway.” Cosima surprises us both by speaking up.

Alexander squints, looking quite caught off guard that she’s sided against him. “What—“

“Haldir’s right. It’s too dangerous and besides, the grass is softer.”

Alexander opens and closes his mouth a few times, then exhales, shaking his head and stomping back to camp. Cosima turns to Roch and resumes brushing his coat, a new tension in her jaw.

I try to broach the subject delicately. I’m not entirely sure it’s my business, but I suppose any information into the pasts of these mysterious humans is useful. “Do you remember much of your relationship with Alexander from before? Do you know what he was like?”

She closes her eyes—something she does when she’s stressed, I note—and sighs before opening them again. “I’ve been asking myself that a lot recently. I get that this whole…whatever it is, is impossible. I know that. And he does, too, which is why he’s having such a hard time adjusting.”

I bristle at the insinuation that I and my world aren’t real, but then make myself relax, putting myself in Cosima’s shoes. How would I feel if I woke up in a world completely different from the little I could remember?

She continues. “But I like it here. It’s beautiful and exciting and there’s so much to explore…I’m making friends.” She smiles up at me shyly, and I immediately return it. We are friends. I don’t know when or how it happened but we are. I like having her around.

“But with Alex…” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m having a hard time not accepting my life here because it’s all I really know. I don’t have anything else to hold on to. Alex can’t seem to do that…I wonder if he remembers more than he lets on.”

I keep my expression carefully blank. I’ve been pondering the same thing. Something she said does bother me, though. She didn’t say she’s having a hard time accepting our world, but not accepting it. What’s holding her back? I try to dig around. “Cosima, this is your world now. Why wouldn’t you want to accept it?”

She shakes her head slowly, the sadness creeping back. “I can’t accept my life here because there’s no way it’s possible. I trust you and your brothers and Baranor, but something about this place is off. It’s completely unnatural—from what I remember of my world, we don’t have elves. We have cars instead of horses and ways to communicate that stretch across the globe.” Her voice rises in pitch, the first misty hints of tears entering her eyes. “And there’s only one world. There’s no way to go back or forward in time or hop to another planet or—”

“That you know,” I correct, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. Seeing her struggle is not only upsetting, it’s frustrating. She is here, and this world is as real as she is, as real as I am. All this back and forth is pointless. “You said it yourself—you don’t remember much about your home world. And even if you remembered everything, who’s to say that you could know everything? For all you know, you fell asleep in your world and woke up in mine. And, at present, I don’t know of any way to send you back. Elrond or the Lady might, but that’s not a question we can answer until later. So for now, you need to accept this world. Because you are here. This world is real and your life here is real.”

She takes in a shaky breath.

I freeze. Oh Valar. I’ve made her cry.

I hurry to try to undo it. “Cosima—”

“No.” She cuts me off, wiping the corner of her eyes with her sleeve. “I needed to hear that. You’re right. I’m only wasting time and stressing myself out with all this. Because regardless of what I think is logical or possible, the fact remains that I am here in Arda and I feel real and alive. And so does this world. And so do you.” Her eyes, still shiny with tears, meet mine and she offers me a watery smile.

I accept it with a breath of relief and work consciously to soften my tone. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you cry.”

“Oh,” she chuckles softly, still wiping away her tears. “I don’t think it’s your fault. I’m just tired and stressed and—what was it you said again?” She throws me a teasing look and I know she’s about to bring up my earlier comment. “You said I was sensitive. That’s right.”

I hold back a groan. Probably not the most well-advised thing I’ve ever said. “I only meant that you are more expressive with your emotions than I or others that—”

“Nope. I’m gonna stop you right there.” She holds up a hand, thankfully still in a joking mood. “You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

She’s probably right. So I halt my attempts, shaking my head and laughing at myself. “I suppose I should apologize for that too?”

She shrugs off-handedly. “Nah. Because for the record, about the time you decided I was sensitive, I decided you’re way too serious.”

And, with that, she sets Roch free to graze and jaunts back to camp.

{***}

Aside from the brief interlude with Cosima, I don’t allow myself to relax as we continue through the mountains. There are too many peaks and rocks and caves and crevices where the enemy can hide. All it would take is one well-aimed arrow to fell one of my companions, or myself. I have to be vigilant. They’re trusting me, and I must not let them down.

{***}

On the third night in the mountains, Rumil and Orophin stage a sort of intervention, trying to force me into a full night’s rest.

“Brother, you have stood watch every night for the past five nights and most of the nights before that.”

“I am fine,” I retort, straightening my back. “I am perfectly capable of sacrificing rest to keep watch of our surroundings.”

“But without rest you will grow weary and slow,” Orophin adds, planting himself to stop me from walking past him. “You will not be at your best and cannot keep us safe as you could if you had proper rest.” He raises his voice to drown out my protests. “Rumil and I will stand watch all night—we will be vigilant.”

“Now, go lay down and get a full night’s rest willingly, or Baranor is prepared to drug you.” At this, Rumil smiles broadly. He is only joking. And, capable though Baranor is, I have no doubt in my ability to stop him from forcing herbs into my mouth.

But my brothers have a point. Though I am used to many restless nights from battle and my patrol of the borders, I have not slept for more than a few hours in many nights. I feel the heaviness in my eyes, the weariness in my bones, and, though I know I could push through, it is of no benefit to my company. So, reluctantly, I sheathe my sword, nodding to my brothers. “Wake me if there is any trouble.”

Orophin agrees readily. “Of course. You’ve trained us well.”

At this, I must grin, remembering the countless hours I put into developing and perfecting their skills. “I know.”

I leave the outcropping of rocks that has become our watch station and jog the short distance back to camp.

“Wow, look who’s decided to join us for a change,” Cosima jokes. There’s a note in her voice that tells me she had knowledge of, if not a hand in, my brothers’ plan.

I roll my eyes, matching her teasing tone. “I couldn’t leave the three of you unattended for long—who knows the trouble you could have gotten in?”

“Oh, yeah. Baranor was about to redress Alex’s wound — troublesome, indeed.”

I sit on the empty mat in between her and Baranor, greeting my elven friend with a nod. Alexander doesn’t acknowledge me, so I don’t acknowledge him.

Cosima passes me a bundle of leaves containing a ration of lembas bread and a handful of blackberries. I smile my thanks and take the food eagerly—I haven’t eaten since morning.

“Glad to see you resting, mellon nîn,” Baranor nods in my direction then returns his attention to Alexander’s leg. The herbs and healing power in Baranor’s spirit have done wonders, but the traveling aggravates the wound. Really, he should take a few days to rest, but we do not have that luxury.

Cosima breaks a piece off her own bread. “How long until we reach Imladris?”

“Within three days, I imagine.” It’s an estimate, but a fairly accurate one, I’d wager. After many journeys, I know these mountains quite well.

She smiles. “That’s not too bad.”

“Agreed.” Baranor sighs and nods, indicating that he’s done dressing Alexander’s wound. He returns to his mat on the other side of our bags, completing the circle we lounge in.

A particularly strong gust of wind blows my hair around. Cosima shudders, pulling her blanket tighter over her shoulders — her cloak is still in her bag. Temperature doesn’t bother elves in the same way it does humans, I remember. I shed my cloak of deep grey, holding it out for her to take. “Here.”

Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head vehemently. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t want you to be—”

“Take the cloak, Cosima.”

She bites back a smile, and I know why. Even as I was trying to be nice, I still ended up making it an order. Oops. But it did the trick. She takes the cloak, wrapping herself tightly in it and then adding the blanket for an extra layer of warmth. “Thank you.”

I only nod in response. After all, it’s my job to see that each member of my company is cared for. That includes fragile humans who could possibly die from exposure to the elements. And, thankfully, she does look much warmer now — her shivers have subsided and the wind only has the chance to bother her face, as the rest of her body is encapsulated in a cocoon of cloth.

“So Haldir, what do you do?” Alexander’s direct question catches me off guard, as well as the suspicion behind it.

I bristle. “Pardon?”

Alexander raises his chin, eyes narrowed at me. “What is your job? Because you seem awfully comfortable ordering people around.”

I forget how immature humans can be. I push against the annoyance that rises within me. “I am charged with the protection of my realm.”

“So you left it unguarded?”

I speak through clenched teeth. “I took leave.”

“So if you’re on leave then why are you still in charge? We’re nowhere near your realm.”

I feel my pulse quicken. “The others have accepted my authority. I am the most experienced—”

“Have I accepted your authority? Has Cosima?” He raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Uh, don’t bring me into this,” Cosima practically yelps, pulling the fabric tighter around her.

“Yes, this is a good time to stop,” Baranor interjects, looking completely serene — the exact opposite of how Alexander and I must look.

“It’s getting late,” Cosima agrees, darting nervous looks between me and her human friend. “We should all get some sleep.”

Alexander and I stare each other down. I feel no small amount of pride when he breaks his gaze first, then admonish myself for my immaturity. I should have handled that better — I know better than he does. Unbidden, my eyes dart to Cosima. Has my arguing with her closest friend upset her?

But thankfully, she smiles at me when my eyes meet hers, then reclines on her mat. Her voice rings over the small clearing, effectively ending any discussion between us all for the evening. Probably for the best. “Goodnight.”

And, though I am still angry, my body and mind cannot ignore how exhausted I am after days of insufficient sleep. It doesn’t take long for me to find rest.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3! That will notify you automatically when I post there.

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caithyra · 4 years ago

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I’m suuuure he’s shocked /s

GRRM: “Oh woes! I have created a perfect and supporting family for my main characters and I need conflict to make it interesting! What could possibly ruin a good family?”

GRRM: “Ah! A girly girl, of course!” *Creates Sansa.* “And a traitorous bitch at that who would chose to support and protect her child over her birth family who do not rely on her for protection! Surely all shall realize what a bad person she is! It’s not like her own mother would be condemned for abandoning a child that’s not even her own!” *Creates first outline.* “But wait! She shall be prepubescent at the start of the story...” *Starts creating the actual story.* “I shall introduce her through the resentful tomboy’s perspective! And I shall have grown men slobbering over this prepubescent girly girl because we all know that’s ~*historically accurate*~! Oh, people do not like her? I am shocked! Shocked!”

Like, it says a lot about a narrative that when the author wants to create conflict and shake up a healthy family dynamic in a supremely patriarchal world, that he introduces a prepubescent, feminine sister who is unfavored by her father compared to her tomboy sister (even Sansa’s betrothal is a sham even if it would have made her future queen-in-waiting. If everything went as Ned planned, her virtue would have been ruined on the Trident and after he breaks the betrothal with Joff by accusing him of being a bastard, Sansa’s play-acting at love and having been alone with Joff would have ruined her for good, future prospects and the best she would get is either a disinherited second son who no one else wants to marry or a jumped up house who wants some blue blood like the Freys, Baelishes or Westerlings-Spicers that no one important likes.

Arya, by being younger, and more like Lyanna, would have gotten the queenhood and crown prince by Robert’s second wife after Cersei is disposed of, since Robert really wants to marry his child to Ned’s children, so no one better tell me that Ned ever put Sansa ahead of Arya the same he puts Arya ahead of Sansa. He freaking hides behind his prepubescent daughter’s skirts while investigating what he believes are ruthless murderers who had no qualms killing the most powerful men in the realm in a hyper-patriarchy! And it is the other daughter he warns about dangers and gives lessons in fighting! Like what was Ned thinking would happen with Sansa? Did he even care? Did he think he could just sweep it under rugs and forget it? She will need to marry within recent memory of her scandalous conduct since she’ll be twenty in less than a decade! And marriageable age in Westeros is 16! And yet the fandom goes “Poor Ned to have that traitorous bitch for a daughter~” “She should have listened to Ned who never spoke to her and explained himself or the world wouldn’t be ending~” “I don’t hate Sansa but she was sooo stupid for not blindly obeying her loving father who punishes her for her sister’s sins and never explains himself~” is it any wonder my patience with Ned Stark’s parental fuck ups ran out? Congrats, fandom, you made me hate him by excusing his fuck ups and blaming them on his daughter all the time!).

GRRM tries to make it gray, but he knows full well what kind of audience he writes to when he writes the relationships between Cat and Jon, and Arya and Sansa and should have compensated.

Hell, he should have made Joff a good person, prince and promising future king that most girls would like to marry, only to show that’s not what Ned cares about (after all, unless Ned wants Sansa to be abused like half the fandom, he had no idea that Joff was bad when he betrothed them), he cares about birth and truth and “High As Honor” over practical things like “Winter is Coming and Staying for Ten Freezing Years and Does Not Care Who Sits On the Throne So Lets Not Start a Civil War with One of the Most Powerful Families in the Realm, hm?”.

I mean, no one likes Drizzt Do’Urden’s sisters/mother/the matriarchy as a whole, do they? The Dark Elf Trilogy predates ASoIaF by six years, and should have shown a competent writer exactly what the state of womanhood in the Fantasy genre was like. And if you’re going “well, the matriarchy is evil!” I would like to point out that people hate Cattie-brie who is not part of that matriarchy. Yeah. There’s a reason why Menzoberranzan could be written that way and published and become popular, and it was not that Fantasy readers love and support and makes the effort to identify with and understand female characters (nor does most authors, come to think of it... see female friendships in ASoIaF that are without any sexual, incest, or abusive~ Like Arianne and Tyene being as close as sisters in the Later Books Which Are Not Early Installment Weirdness... Oh wait...).

Heck, in the Belgariad, another series predating both of them, things were more subtle but hardly better for female characters; Polgara is a mother figure who gets to have a moment of being imperfect, but to anyone reading the story, it is clear that Garion is the true victim in the circumstances and conspiracies Polgara’s family has woven around him, and that his anger is the immediate reaction of finding out the truth (he just found out how/why he was orphaned and now has the world on his shoulders! And the characters bag on him for not being understanding of the 1000s of years old woman who lied to him and now is sulking. It is blatantly obvious to the readers that it is not the male character in the wrong). The less said about Ce´Nedra (half hyper-sexual dryad, spoiled princess who wants bigger breasts, et cetera) the better. Heck, the less said about the lovable oaf of the hero group committing marital rape on his estranged wife to cure her of being a bitch and turn her loving the better.

The Narnia books predates even that, and Sansa’s direct parallel is Susan, and, yeah... “A silly and vain young woman” with “Plenty of time to mend” sounds very familiar when you hear how people blame Sansa and wants to force her into abusive marriages with repulsive men to mend her.

Not to mention that in Lord of the Rings and related works women are either paragons of virtue, evil, unnamed or are chastised for being ambitious, with a few, notable exceptions allowed to make “wrong” choices, and, well, just see the Elwing discourse in fandom and how her murderers who kidnapped and kept her children (Elrond and Elros, yes, that Elrond for those not familiar with Tolkien’s Legendarium and only watched the movies) as hostages are their ~*real parents*~ after committing a third almost-genocide against her people.

Yeah, no. GRRM doesn’t get to pretend he’s shocked and/or confused by his readers’ reception to Sansa (and Cat). He does not live, read nor write in a vacuum. This shit has been part of Fantasy fandom since long before ASoIaF was an errant idea in his head.

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rainydaymiddleearthimagines · 4 years ago

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The Arrangement pt 2

Strider shook his head with laughter as you fell from a tree. “Owww” you whined. “How is it that you can climb trees but coming back down is an issue?” Strider teased. “I blame lack of balance.” you said. He kneeled next to you, pulling you forward before you winced. He shook his head and you sighed. “When are we heading back?” you asked. “We should be back by nightfall.” Strider said. You almost seemed to pout in response. “Come now, it won’t be that bad.” Strider said, helping you up. “It’s enough that I was born into the the title, but now I have to officially accept it through a ceremony. This is ridiculous.” You huffed. “Buuuttt you can’t get out of it.” Strider said. “I mean... You could kidnap me.” you suggested. He rolled his eyes. “Y/n, you know the deal.” he said. “Alright! Alright. But only if you suffer through the coronation too.” you said. “Y/n, I was already going.” He said. You grinned. “Really? Color me impressed for wanting to be there!” You said. “....I never said I wanted to go, I said I was going” He said.

You two walked, you listening to the trees with a sigh. “What are they saying?” He asked. He wasn’t elven and didn’t have the gift for listening to nature. He had heard from others on how elves could listen to nature. “Others have been through here. Probably on their merry little ways to my official ceremony of suffering.” you said making him shake his head. “Some people would kill for this life.” He said. “When have I been other people?” you asked. “...Fair point.” He nodded.

A wind brushed your face, almost like a caress. You smiled and let out a breath. "It's like the trees know I'm uneasy." You said. "What makes you nervous?" Strider asked. "I have a tendency to... Embarrass myself in front of the royalty in my family." You muttered. "I'm sure it's not--" "I've accidentally stabbed Galadriel with a fork at dinner. Do not finish that sentence." You halted. Strider blinked. "Y/n. Remember, there's at least two friends in that room with you." He said. "Two?" You asked. "I assume you're close with Arwen?" He asked. You nodded slowly but seemed to have a questioning look on your face. "...Yes. You seem to bring her up a lot more, is there something going on between you two?" You asked. Strider rose a brow. "Are you asking me if I'm involved with your sister?" He asked. "Are you?" You asked. "No." He said.

While Arwen was beautiful, she was different. You were more complex, more unpredictable. Arwen was, to put it simply, who Elrond wanted you to be. You had certain similarities, you were unbelievably kind, intelligent, and definitely beautiful. But your beauty was ethereal. It was unreal to Strider how you seemed so beautiful at times where you didn't mean to. When you were pulling back your hair, when you were listening to the trees, when you reading, when you were talking to your sister and laughing with her. It made him question if Arwen was accurate in her thinking.

Something about seeing you actually enjoy home at times made him happy. It let him know that you weren't completely miserable where you were, just not exactly happy with your situation. It was way to assure him that you were okay once he left. At times Strider didn't really want to leave you. Hell. There were days were he actually missed you. He'd keep it to himself but it would show when he'd see you again and he'd smile.

You walked, looking over at Strider who was awfully quiet. "What's going on in that head of yours?" You asked. He realized he had been lost in thought this whole time, being quiet. It wasn't an unusual thing by any means for him to go silent. It was slightly unusual though for him to be silent while staring at you. Course that would be unusual for anyone.

"You'll make a good ruler one day." He said. You let out a small chuckle but realized he was being sincere. "...What makes you say that?" You asked. "You have the heart of a good queen." He said. You blinked, stopping and looking at him. "What?" He asked. "Nothing. Just a odd thing I've heard from a friend." You said. That's when you seemed to perk up. "I just realized something!" You gasped. He blinked. "What?" Strider asked. "Come on!" You ushered him forward. "Wha-- Y/n, what's going on?!" He asked, laughing slightly at your child-like excitement. "One of my friends is coming to this!" You said. "So you do have friends!" Strider teased. "He's actually a prince. Really interesting. Come onnnn!" You said rushing.

You were moving faster now, finally reaching Rivendell as the sun set. Elrond was greeting Galadriel, when he looked over. You noticed the familiar white horse, the elven sigil on inscribed on it's saddle. You dragged Strider with you as you looked around. "Arwen!" You whisper shouted. She looked over. "You're back early." She noticed. "Is he here?" You asked. She rolled her eyes. "I rarely get to see him!" You huffed. She pointed and you dragged Strider by his hand. Arwen shook her head with a small smile as he seemed to laugh. He was in love and she knew it. The question was: did he know yet?

"Legolas!" You called. A white haired figure turned around, a smile falling over him as you hugged him. "It is good to see you old friend!" You said. He pulled away blinking. "There's a man here." Legolas noticed. "Oh, Strider this is Legolas. Legolas this is Strider, my best friend." You introduced. Legolas shook his hand. "I see I've been overthrown as her best friend." Legolas teased. "You're never here to reclaim that title." You said with an eye roll. Strider looked around him, seeing the royalty. He felt slightly out of place but didn't seem to care. "Have you said hello to Arwen yet?" You asked as she walked over. "Not yet-- hello your grace." He answered.

"Good evening Legolas." She said with a smile. "Glad to see my sister is actually enjoying herself." Arwen said. "Is Haldir here?" You asked. "Yes, he's going to be there." Arwen said. She looked at you and sighed. "You need to change Y/n." She said, knowing damn well there would be a struggle. "As do you." She added to Strider. "I--" "I've left clothes in the room you usually stay in, Y/n if you struggle with me tonight out of all nights there will be hell to pay." She said, gritting her teeth while maintaining that sweet smile. "Oh I will wreak havoc." You muttered as she dragged you off, making Strider smile.

"How long have you known Y/n?" Legolas asked, sitting on the edge of the fountain. "A few months." He said. "I take it you're staying for the coronation?" Legolas asked. "Yes I am." He nodded. "Elrond has referred to you as an ambassador of sorts." He said. Strider bit back a laugh at this but nodded. "Word of advice. Stick to the back on the walls with Haldir and me and you should be fine." He said. "You really should change though. Elves in this setting tend to be..." Legolas leaned forward. "Judgmental. Emphasis on the mental." He said earning a silent snort from Aragorn.

Aragorn changed rather quickly, leaving his belongings in what was now basically his designated room. He looked at the ring that rested in one of the pockets in his pack, closing his eyes and remembering simpler times when his father spoke of preparing him for a day like this. Elrond was aware of his identity, giving the ring to him. How Elrond found out was lost on Aragorn, but he knew nonetheless. For some reason, you didn’t know. He wasn’t going to question why but he was confused on why your father wouldn’t tell you that he was the heir to Isildur. He put the ring back in the bag, walking out and back to Legolas.

"Why is Y/n taking so long?" Strider asked. "Have you met her? She's probably fighting Arwen out of the dress as we speak." Legolas said. Truth be told he had never seen you out of armor. Not in royal garb anyway. You were always running wild in your armor, bringing stress to your father when Strider made himself present. "They're making it seem like the coronation is tonight." Strider said, noticing the servants run back and forth. "Tonight is the dinner before it with the leaders. Unfortunately we all must sit and suffer through it." Legolas muttered. "You don't seem to enjoy the royal life like the rest do." Strider noticed. "Me and Y/n share opinions on this. We believe the best way to keep a kingdom safe is to assist the people, making a point to not fear straying outside of the gates to actually protect your land. Instead our rulers don't leave their homes unless it's a political reason." Legolas explained. Strider nodded. "You don't get along with your father, do you?" He asked. "No. I don't." Legolas said. "Hm. I'm really beginning to understand the dynamic of your friendship with Y/n." Strider said. Legolas smiled, nodding. "The parallels of our lives are not lost on us." He said.

Finally you walked down the stairs, air getting stuck in Strider's throat. The dress was blue, sleeves hanging off you. You wore a small silver circlet, really showing your role as princess. "Arwen, this is very uncomfortable." You whispered. "Deal. With. It." She whispered. You rolled your eyes, walking over. "I see she attacked you with a corset." Legolas said. "And my own crown. This. Is. Hell." You muttered. Strider's eyes seemed wide as he looked at you. You looked over at Strider, stopping for a moment. "You... Clean up nice." You said, Legolas noticing the strange tension. "...As do you." Aragorn said. Arwen and Legolas exchanged a knowing look.

Elrond came over, making you cut your attention away. "The dinner is commencing soon, are you ready?" He asked. "Yes father." You said. "Strider is your escort tonight and tomorrow. My gift to you." He said with a slight eye roll. "Thank you father." You said with slight relief. "And you both look beautiful. Your mother would've loved to see this." Elrond said, putting a loving hand to your cheek. You and Arwen gave small smiles. Your eyes seemed to gloss over with sadness. "Strider, a moment please." Elrond said. He followed the lord, speaking with him. "Please try to keep Y/n calm. She has a tendency to... Shoot off at the mouth with royalty. Tonight out of all nights I need her to be proper." Elrond said. "I will do what I can, you know Y/n--" "There is no controlling her." Both of the men said in unison. It was odd really. It was like for a second they were... Bonding? "I can't make any promises, but I will do what I can." Strider said. "Thank you. Oh and if anyone asks, you're an ambassador." Elrond said before leaving. "... Ambassador?" He muttered to himself.

Strider walked back over, you looking at him. He smiled slightly and you smiled back, looking down as Arwen and Legolas talked. "It seems our team is back together." Haldir said, walking over. You chuckled, hugging the man. "team?" Strider asked. "Oh this group usually stays glued to the wall, whispering amongst themselves and trying to break the royal guard." Haldir said. "Break the royal guard?" Strider asked. "Guards here are trained to be very stoic and stone faced. They will stand next to them and get these men with years of training to crack a smirk, smile or laugh." Haldir said with a small laugh. "I believe our record was fifteen minutes, after the words 'flarpy blunderfloof' came out of Y/n's mouth." Arwen recalled making you all laugh. Strider smiled at this. You seemed to enjoy this particular group of people and that was nice, to see a smile like that on your face.

"Y/n, we're starting." Elrond called. You winced. "Shit." You muttered. The group all walked, Strider next to you. Galadriel and Thranduil stood near the table conversating with one another. Your heart pounded in your ears as you stood there, grabbing Strider's hand as an instinct out of fear. He looked over, seeing your frozen features. “Y/n. Breathe.” Legolas said, standing on your other side. “My. feet. won’t. move.” you muttered. “Y/n. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Galadriel said. You let go of Strider’s hand, Galadriel hugging you, She whispered an incantation in your ear, you immediately feeling calmer. “Thank you.” You whispered. “You seemed anxious.” she said softly, pulling away. “Let’s sit.” Legolas suggested. You nodded, Legolas pulling your chair out for Arwen’s chair out before he sat down. Strider pulled your chair out before sitting next to you, you looking at the elves around you. Legolas nudged you, nodding to the stone faced soldiers by the doors and you bit back a smile.

The evening continued with talks of politics, speaking of the leaders. Then the story of the ring made the air tense “Whatever happened to that ring anyway?” One of the ambassadors asked. “Isildur never disposed of it. It’s been lost ever since.” Elrond said. Strider seemed to tense up, swallowing his drink. You seemed bored by the conversation, Strider taking it as you’ve heard this many times. Arwen looked over at Strider who had a unreadable expression. “I don’t think it has been... Completely lost.” you said, earning looks to you. “Are you implying you know where the ring is?” Thranduil asked. You shifted slightly. “I’ve heard rumblings. From the trees and the earth. Something is happening out there. Something strange.” You said. “I’ve heard similar rumblings myself.” Galadriel agreed. Good. So you weren’t on the brink of insanity.

“Considering how long the ring has been hidden, I don’t expect it to turn up any time soon.” Thranduil commented. “Neither do I. Though it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.” Elrond nodded. “It won’t turn up for at least another twenty years.” Galadriel said. “Experiencing your visions again dear?” Celeborn asked. “This is one I can see clearly.” She said simply. “It will come to us in a unexpected form.” She said. “Will we be rid of the damn thing?” Thranduil asked. “That is not clear.” She said with slight disappointment. Legolas looked over at you with a small distain.

“While we’re on the subject of foresight... Is there any way you can examine Y/n or at least Arwen?” Elrond asked. You turned your vision to Galadriel. “Would you mind?” Galadriel asked. You stood up, moving to her. Thranduil moved so you could sit in his seat, you giving her your hands as you sat. “There are many things to see with you my dear.” She said, closing her eyes. “You have a strong will to protect. Very appropriate for a leader to have.” Galadriel said softly. Strider rose a brow as Galadriel opened her eyes, wide with surprise. “Is something wrong?” you asked. “You will sit upon a throne if the future is hopeful.” She said. “with the man.” She added, everyone’s vision going to Strider. “I don’t think--” “There is more to you than you are telling us.” She said. Strider swallowed hard, disturbed by this comment.

You looked at Galadriel and then Strider. “You are--” “stop.” you halted. Everyone looked to you. “I trust Strider. If he truly has been keeping another identity then he will tell me with time.” You said simply. “You put a lot of trust in someone who’s been lying to you.” Thranduil said, a disapproving look on his face. “It was foolish to assume is birth name was ‘Strider’ to begin with. I think it’s more of a title than an actual name.” You fired back. “She’s not wrong.” Strider said, clearing his throat. “We were well aware of the concealed identity.” Arwen said with a sigh. You looked over surprised. “Foresight runs within my veins as well.” She said. “You know?” Strider asked, now realizing how Elrond must’ve learned this. “I have known for two months.” She said, sipping on her elven wine. She must’ve told Elrond... She had to for him to just abruptly give him the ring. “Strider. A word.” You said, nodding to the doors.

You pulled him into another room. “What the hell is going on in there?” you asked. “I...” He sighed. “I will explain after this. It’ll make more sense.” He said. “Promise me that I can still trust you after this.” you said. He paused, looking in your eyes. “Promise me that you are going to be honest with this, and tell me the truth.” You said. He couldn’t lie to those eyes. Those beautiful, telling eyes. “I will try.” he said. You nodded before walking back in.

The evening continued, an awkward tension over everyone as time passed. Finally though, it was over, you and Strider walking to his room. “Are you going to explain?” you asked. He nodded, walking over to his pack. He pulled out the small silver band, it made to look like two serpents protecting the small emerald in the center. You recognized this and stared at him with wide eyes. “You’re... There’s no way.” You gaped. “I am Aragorn. Son of Arathorn II and Gilraen.” He said. You swallowed. “Now I know why you kept it from me. That’s... Quite a lot of information to process.” You gaped. “Take all the time you need, I understand if this makes things tense between--” “Why haven’t you made a claim for Gondor?” you asked. He put his hand on the back of his head, looking away. “I don’t trust myself to be a leader.” He admitted. “Why?” You asked. “My ancestor, the one from which I receive this ring from, is someone who became mad with power.” He said. You frowned. “What if temptation weakens me like it did him?” Aragorn asked. You stepped forward, lifting both of his hands and pulling back his sleeve and placing both of your thumbs on his veins. “You may share his blood Aragorn. But you will never be like Isildur.” you said softly. “How do you know that?” Aragorn asked. “Because Isildur wouldn’t have been worried about messing things up this badly to a point where he walked away from power.” You said. He looked down and you shook your head. “There’s a heart that beats strong in your chest, one that fights every day to be less like his ancestors. For that I find you honorable.” you said softly.

Aragorn swallowed hard, looking at you with wide eyes. “I should go to bed. Long day tomorrow.” you breathed. “Oh! What do you wish for me to call you?” you asked. “What?” He asked. “You’re clearly uncomfortable by your heritage so do you want me to call you ‘Strider’ or ‘Aragorn’?” You asked. He pondered. “Aragorn when we’re here or just you and me, Strider when we’re elsewhere and in the presence of others.” He said. “You got it, Aragorn.” you said, small smirk coming to play upon your lips as you left.

Aragorn looked at the silver band that now rested on his bed. When he first received this ring it almost seemed to mock him with intimidation. Tonight though, he finally had a voice, clear as day give him reason. For the first time, Aragorn didn’t hate his name. For the first time, he could actually breathe.

For the first time, he wore the ring.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine #aragorn #lord of the rings

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writerman · 4 years ago

Note

If you’re still talking prompts i was wondering if you could do one where Thranduil and Elrond accidentally propose to Bard without knowing they did and Bard accepts and starts to plan the wedding so when they go to actually propose to him there’s confusion, misunderstandings, humor and a little angst but a happy ending. Thank you if you do, your writing is the best 🥰

Hi, anon! Thank you for this one, it really made me think on how to word it for the misunderstanding. I truly hope you enjoy reading.

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Would you marry us?

It had been a stark and bold question and it left Bard reeling for a long moment, though his silence did not seem to perturb the two elves sitting across from the table from him.

No, they had remained quite unaffected by the sudden proposal while sipping tea and enjoying the warm spring sun as it shone through the tree canopy above them leaving dappled shadows over their serene faces.

After managing to locate some composure from somewhere Bard could still only give nothing more than a stunted nod.

“Are we even able to marry all three of us?” The words came out more a croak and Bard cleared his throat and took a long drink of his now cold tea. “Is there no law to say it is only between two elves or two humans?”

“Of course not, but remember that we are very important people, who will say no to us?” Thranduil mused with a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. So confident with his words and there was Elrond nodding in agreement!

“Thranduil is correct, who would think to stop us fulfilling a wish that unifies us in nothing but love?” Fair enough but that did smack of a certain amount of overconfidence and Bard really wanted to be sure that in marrying the two elves he would not be upsetting the law of any elven culture.

Not that Thranduil or Elrond seemed to care much.

There was nothing about their whole demeanour that seemed even remotely excited about the marriage. They had all been married before perhaps a second wedding wasn’t something they were wholly interested in.

“When would you like to get married?” Bard asked if he was going to put some plans in motion he might as well get the details right away, even if they didn’t seem overly interested Bard wanted everything to be perfect.

“Autumn has always appealed to me,” Thranduil responded but he added nothing more

It was out of his realm of expertise, especially seeing as fishing was the only thing he believed he was good at, but he was ready to learn the ins and outs of planning a wedding.

Eventually, both elves excused themselves to deal with pressing matters in their kingdoms leaving Bard sat under the canopy of trees wondering why he felt so shell shocked by the whole exchange?

For a moment, he sat and looked at the now vacant seats and considered that perhaps he should have said no to their proposal, everything had felt so casual and Bard had always assumed elves held marriage with a sort of reverence one might have when discussing divinity.

Making his excuses later Bard returned to Dale and spoke with his closest friends and made the decision that even without a date he would at least plan something, even if it was deciding on his own outfit or a venue or flowers, it was something.

Holding off from bothering Elrond and Thranduil with any questions, Bard found the process unappealing and for a spell, he made no further arrangements. The eagerness he had expected simply was not there.

“Da, can I talk to you about something?” Sigrid knocked on the open door of Bard’s door that led to his drawing-room where he was struggling through several correspondences from Erebor.

Thankful for the interruption he nodded and gestured for her to take the chair across from him which she took but remained silent for a long moment as she watched him shuffling papers.

“You don’t seem happy to be getting married.” His shuffling stopped and he looked at her with an expression of surprise that he was unable to veil as anything else. Of course, someone had told her and he had an idea who but that didn’t matter all that much.

What did matter was that she was right. Bold and unapologetic in her statement, so much like her mother had been and at that moment he missed his wife more than he had ever done so in all the years he had been without her.

A keen pain so aching and sudden.

Gone in a second, as fleeting as a wish.

“Just conflicted about a few things, that’s all.” Bard managed to mumble but Sigrid didn’t look in any way convinced and she gave him a hard stare until he crumbled, “I’d like to preface this with the fact that I am not comfortable telling you my love woes, but I am concerned that their proposal was either not meant as serious or they believe that they had to ask instead of wanted to.”

“Da, I don’t think either of them would do something they didn’t want to do.” Her response was a simple one tinged with amusement and it was appreciated as it cut through the mire of worries that had plagued his mind for days.

“You’re right.” There wasn’t much more he could say or rather, what he needed to say was not for her ears and she was well aware of that as she moved to her feet and left him deep in thought without another word.

His kids were too smart for their own good sometimes.

But, by the Gods, having their clear-minded solutions offered without fanfare and with only the purest intentions gave him the healing his heart often needed.

It was early morning when Bard was woken to the sound of his children happily greeting someone in the hallway. The fact they were out of bed and he was not did not bode all that well.

Whoever had graced him with their presence had not announced their intentions to himself or his staff. And now he was sitting up in bed trying to chase away the sleep that still lingered enough that he would seem, somewhat, alert when someone came into the room to update him on the situation.

In reality, all he wished for was another hour in bed and the peace and quiet that came with the dead of night but it wasn’t in his stars to have a quiet day to himself as the bedroom creaked open.

He was greeted by the sight of two very familiar travel-worn elves who genuinely looked relieved to find him in bed still.

Both Elrond and Thranduil stepped in and the door was shut behind them with a purposely slam from someone outside the room. They divested themselves of their travelling gear and without ceremony climbed into the bed at either side of him, their cold hands chasing away the sleepy warmth as they both embraced him.

This was not the first time both of them had shown up unannounced and climbed into bed with him. It did leave him feeling uneasy that they would make decisions without his input that perhaps they were closer to one another than they were to him.

Closing his eyes he accepted the soft kisses to his face in greeting but he said nothing to them of their appearance in his home. Something about the situation ached deep inside him and it was now apparent to Thranduil and Elrond who put space between themselves and him with questions on the tip of their tongues and concern in their eyes.

“I don’t think I can marry you both.” It came out in a rush and the sorrow that overtook both elves was instantaneous to the point that Bard swore he could feel it coming off them in waves.

“What has changed your mind?” Elrond asked softly, his hand covered one of Bard’s and coaxed it from a balled fist so he was able to hold his hand. “I understand that we have not spent much time with you lately, meleth, we hoped to fix this with our visit here. Were we too late?” His gaze darts to Thranduil who is expressionless and does not offer any words of comfort to Elrond.

His words had hurt them both.

Of course, he regretted what he had said, he adored them both but there were too many times to count wherein he would feel so disconnected from them. It just didn’t seem feasible for them to be happily married while being spread across Middle Earth running kingdoms and spending months apart.

“Would it not be better if you both married instead?”

“Is that what you wish?” Thranduil’s voice was cold and his pale gaze studied Bard intently as though looking for something to give away what he was thinking but in the end, Thranduil looked away and gave a tired sigh. “It seems that we are unable to leave you for any amount of time without your thoughts becoming a tangled mess.” The affectionate tone which Thranduil now used was unexpected but the warmth in the words had Bard mentally lean toward the elf.

No relief came to him even when Elrond nodded in agreement.

“You think very lowly of yourself, Bard,” Elrond noted yet said nothing more but instead his hand disappeared into a pocket before producing a silver ring that shone bright like a star with the minimal amount of light that streaked through the shutters on Bard’s window.

“We came to propose to you. Thranduil and I wish to be married to you, we hope that in being wed to our favourite person you would slowly come to realise how precious you are to us.” The words were spoken softly and so filled with love were they it seemed more a prayer than a proposal and that was the reverence Bard had expected from them originally.

A blush bloomed over his cheeks and nose as he understood now that they had not proposed but had warned him that they would. They asked if he would be happy to be wed to them so that he was prepared for such a moment as this.

It took everything in him not to cover his face with embarrassment at the sudden understanding that he had very much misunderstood the conversation back in spring. His thoughts had jumped ahead of him leaving him confused and unhappy.

I should have just asked them about it.

“I don’t have any rings made for you. I wasn’t prepared, I'm sorry.” This didn’t bother Thranduil or Elrond and they merely shrugged while Elrond offered the ring to Bard again who, after being nudged by Thranduil, accepted the shining piece and allowed it to be slid onto his finger.

“Hm, it makes my heart sore to see you accept our proposal. We made the ring with silver from both our lands so that it is from both of us. We wondered if you might like to do the same for one of us?” Thranduil suggested but he didn’t expect an answer because he was too busy removing items of clothing so he could get more comfortable at Bard’s side in the bed.

“I am starting to think you gifted this massive bed to me for visits such as these. We all magically seem to fit in with plenty of space.” Bard mused aloud though in good humour of course. His head had calmed some as well as his heart and unease began to lift and dissipate with each second that passed in the company of his two loves.

Elrond laughed quietly beside him and as he rested his chin on Bard’s shoulder with an arm snaking around his waist to hold him in a tight embrace.

“Of course this was the reason. Your warmth is a constant source of joy to us, and how soundly we sleep when we hear the strong thrum of your heart in your chest. How could we hear it if you offered us the guest quarters?”

He had a point and who was he to argue with such a flawless logic. This was Elrond one of his soon to be husbands, he knew what he was talking about.

“Heartbeat is one of the reasons, however, I for one, like to listen to you talk in your sleep because you are ridiculous in both your conscious and unconscious,” Thranduil revealed as he tugged at Bard’s sleep clothes in a bid to get him to lie down. It worked and Elrond relinquished his hold on him and followed suit, his hand reaching across Bard in search of Thranduil’s.

This was good and right. The world seemed better now, and he was sure the sun was shining brighter up in the sky but for now, he would merely speculate as he had more important matters to attend to.

At that very moment, he was needed to provide warmth and the song of his heart to aid his beloved elves into sleep.

Everything else would just have to wait.

#Bard the Bowman #Thranduil #Elrond #Elbarduil #The Hobbit #Writing Prompt #Anonymous

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guardianofrivendell · 4 years ago

Text

PERFECT SECRETS - CHAPTER 4

Legolas x OC

Requested: Nope

Summary: Mira. A short and unusual name for a short and unusual Elf. After an audience with Galadriel goes sideways, she leaves her birthplace Lóthlorien and the Elves for good. That is until a certain Gandalf asks for a favor. Come along on her journey, as she reluctantly agrees to accompany Gandalf on the quest to destroy the One Ring. She befriends every Fellowship member, except one. Legolas and Mira are water and fire from the very first moment they laid eyes on each other. Will this be an obstacle during the quest or is it going to make everything just a little more interesting?

Warnings: none in this chapter, just a stubborn Elf

Masterlist Perfect Secrets

Guardianofrivendell’s Masterlist

Everyone started to leave after the remaining Council Members had wished them a safe trip. Mira was still trying to wrap her head around it all. It slowly started to dawn on her that she was going to Mordor. Mordor. It’s not that she was afraid. She was brave enough, she had killed her fair share of Orcs. But this quest was nothing like she had ever done before. She had mostly been on her own, and now had to travel with nine others. Two of them being major dickheads.

“What is clouding your thoughts, my dear?” Gandalf’s voice sounded behind her.

“Why, Gandalf?” She immediately shot back.

“Because I was hungry, because I felt like it, it was the right time and because you wanted to. All answers to questions, but none to the one you just asked me. Let me ask you a question in return, Mira. Why not?”

Mira sighed, looking at the other members of the newly founded fellowship. Even though they had volunteered only a few moments before, they all looked so… prepared.

“Because I’m not ready. This is nothing like the quests we’ve done in the past, Gandalf. I’m sure they all have something to contribute like strength and skills. Filled to the brink with courage, all of them…”

She paused before she added, “Well, of one of them I’m quite certain it’s more stupidity and arrogance than courage but that’s not the point right now. Remember that I did not volunteer myself. You dragged me into this.” She poked his chest to back up her words. Gandalf wanted to say something, but she interrupted him immediately. “Don’t even think about bringing Galadriel’s words into this!” He raised his hands in defeat, chuckling lightly. “I was not planning to. Come, child, join me on a walk around the gardens.”

Legolas was talking to Aragorn, briefing him of the escape of Gollum. The reason he came to Rivendell in the first place. Not that he regretted his decision to join the Fellowship, it was the right thing to do and he would do anything in his power to protect the little Hobbit and help destroy the Ring.

He saw Gandalf talking to the hooded lady. Mira, was it? Everyone could see that she didn’t want to go, and he could hear her complaining about it to the Grey Wizard. Why was Gandalf so keen on bringing her along? What was so special about her? Legolas didn’t like her and that was nothing like him. Somehow she annoyed him terribly.

“Legolas?” Aragorn repeated. He looked at him in surprise.

“Welcome back, mellon nin. You were deep in thought! What troubles you?” (My friend)

“Lady Mira. I can not help but have a bad feeling about her,” he stated.

“And why is that?”

Legolas watched them descend the stairs, Gandalf a few steps ahead and Mira trudging after him. Even now she still kept her hood up.

“She is constantly hiding underneath her hood. Clearly she does not want to join us. Yet Gandalf insists. I can’t help but wonder why.”

Aragorn smiled. “It’s Gandalf. He always has his reasons.”

“I hope you’re right,” Legolas sighed. He was going to keep an eye on her, until she proved him wrong.

Mira walked alongside Gandalf through the many little garden paths of Rivendell. She had to admit it was very beautiful and it brought a certain peace to her. She felt almost comfortable being here. Almost.

“You have skills that will be very useful during our journey, my dear. Do not belittle yourself,” Gandalf began. “Your visions are growing stronger.”

She nodded. “They are, but I can’t control them. I’m vulnerable when I have them, they’re blocking my sight. It’s not something you want to happen mid-fight.”

“There are nine others including myself who can keep an eye on you if that were to happen. You have excellent fighting skills. I cannot see a reason for you not to join.”

She looked at the old Wizard, studying the many wrinkles across his kind face. They went through a lot together, and she suddenly felt the need to protect him overcome her. She thought about all the times she saved him and when he returned the favor. Maybe it was for the best she went with him, if only to keep an eye on him.

But then she noticed the twinkle in his eyes.

“Gandalf?”

“Hm?”

“What are you not telling me?”

“These gardens are extraordinary, don’t you think? Let us find Lord Elrond so I can compliment him,” he said with a knowing smile and walked away. Mira stood with her hands down, lost for words. He only did this when he tried to hide something.

“Gandalf!” she yelled before running after him.

Gandalf never told her what he was hiding and after a few days she gave up trying.

He did give her the advice to start getting to know the others before their journey began. Mira agreed, although reluctantly. She didn’t like talking all that much, afraid she would say something that would give her away. But then she realised they probably weren’t even alive back then - well, maybe the Elf was - and she started to feel more comfortable around them.

She slowly warmed up to Aragorn and Gimli, making her feel a little more at ease. She hadn’t lowered her hood, and they didn’t ask her about it. Yet.

During meals she preferred to sit with the Hobbits. Their kind and animated personalities made them ideal companions. She especially got along with Merry and Pippin, since Frodo kept mostly to himself and Sam was too busy worrying about Frodo’s wellbeing. It was nice to see how strong their friendship was. The only two members she tried to avoid as much as she could were Boromir and Legolas and she had the impression they were doing the same.

She sometimes caught them staring at her during meals, but it wasn’t out of curiosity or even boredom. She knew both men didn’t trust her. Legolas’ electric blue eyes turned cold and distant every time they met hers. If looks could kill, Mira would be slaughtered at least twice a day.

So to say the fellowship was one tight big family when they left a few weeks later… that would be part truth, and part lies.

Gandalf kept himself close to Frodo so Mira chose to walk with Merry and Pippin instead, sometimes accompanied by Gimli. The Dwarf took a particular liking towards her humor and sarcasm and sometimes the others could hear his booming laughter echoing over the fields.

Legolas kept walking around the group, sometimes going ahead to scout and report to Gandalf and Aragorn on his return. He never stayed with the group and for some reason that irritated Mira immensely.

She could hear and see everything just as well from her spot in the group, he had no reason to hop around like he was doing right now. He was just showing off.

When they came to their stop for the night on the 6th day, the Hobbits were exhausted. Gandalf and Aragorn hadn’t allowed them to stop during the day, not even for a meal. The days of constant walking without breaks started to take their toll. And she suspected they finally realized this wasn’t just some fun trip to Mordor and back in a few days. They hadn’t spoken a word for hours.

Sam unpacked his trusty pan and started cooking, but not even the foresight of food could lift the other Hobbit’s spirits up.

She let herself drop between Merry and Pippin. They hardly acknowledged her presence.

“Hey, it’s okay to be a little scared you know,” she whispered to them.

“We’re not scared,” Merry said proudly.

“Course not, and Gimli’s beard isn’t even real!” she laughed. When their eyes widened, she assured them that it was only a joke and she begged them not to go test the authenticity of his beard.

“I only said that to let you know that I know you’re lying, Merry. But like I said, it’s okay to be scared. I used to be scared all the time.”

She put her hand in her pocket. “Until I got this…”

She opened her palm and showed them what was inside: a blue-green gem stone, shaped like a small rock.

“What is that, my lady?” Merry asked her, looking at the stone in her hand.

She showed it to them, the blue-green shine reflecting in their eyes.

“It’s my good luck charm. It was a gift from my father when I was only a child. When I have this with me, I know it will all be okay.”

“Does it help you win fights?” Pippin wondered.

“It always does, I never lost one since,” she smiled at him. Pippin’s smile grew wider and it warmed her heart, glad to see her trick had helped.

She took his little hand and placed the stone in it. “Keep this with you,” she whispered to him. It wasn’t easy for her to part with the gemstone, it was the last thing she had that reminded her of her parents. But when she saw his face light up she knew she’d done the right thing.

“Luck has nothing to do with it, only courage, skills and experience can help you win a fight,” Legolas said to Pippin, before he headed towards the other side of the camp.

Mira saw Pippin’s smile falter and it made her angry. Who the hell did he think he was?

She stood up and went his way. Legolas stood tall on the top of a large boulder, scanning the surroundings for possible threats. He didn’t even look down when she reached him.

“What is your problem?”

His eyes met hers briefly, before he continued staring in the distance.

“You should not give them false hope.”

Mira scoffed. “I’m not giving them false hope! They’re capable of a lot more than you give them credit for!”

He didn’t react to that. In fact, he ignored her completely, his eyes locked to a point somewhere in the distance. Completely fed up with his attitude, she climbed the rock he was standing on and stood right in front of him.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she snapped, poking his chest.

“I heard you,” he answered.

“They joined the fellowship to help us destroy the Ring, the least you could do is help them in return. Yes, they aren’t warriors or experienced fighters like you and me.” He snorted at that, but she let it slide. “But they want to learn. And you talking them down like that is not helping!”

She turned around, leaving a confused Legolas behind, not sure how he should react.

When she wanted to jump off the rock, her foot slipped and she would’ve hit her head or made a nasty fall if Legolas hadn’t grabbed her under her arms.

“It seems like your luck has run out,” he challenged, easily slipping back in his previous attitude. “You might want to ask your stone back.”

“You’re impossible!” she grunted, pulling her arm out of his grasp.

When she stomped back to Merry and Pippin, she failed to notice the twinkles in Gandalf’s eyes had returned and the suppressed snickers from the others who had watched their interaction with mirth...

A/N: Let me know what you think! Or if you want to take a guess on what will happen next, be my guest :)

Taglist @ayo-cowbelly @fried-potato-balloon @galileostyles

#perfect secrets #lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #legolas x oc #legolas greenleaf #fellowship #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr imagine #guardianofrivendell

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theelvenhaven · 4 years ago

Text

Surprise Party

Multiple platonic characters x human!Reader

1.7k words

Happy belated birthday to my bestie @fandom-hoe101 ! I hope you enjoy your belated gift from me 💖

* * *

You frowned as you began to walk down the relatively empty hallway. You had been so certain that you would have found Elladan and Elrohir here near the library! This was the direction you had seen them go to! You had even called out for them repeatedly, which Elladan had only walked faster while Elrohir muttered in elvish.

Today was your birthday, yet everyone was gone and busy and you were trying to at least be productive.

You had questions pertaining to your studies and after the failed attempt to get help it was clear that you were going to be stuck with where you were at today. Yet you had been barred entrance from the library per Elrond’s orders, he had explained that there was an important meeting that was being held and that it would take most of the day for them to go over everything.

Considering it was politics and war strategy you had decided not to offer yourself up to assist. Human politics you were well versed in having come from a village where you had a hand in assisting the village elders. Yet elven politics seemed wildly different and well out of your realm of understanding.

You had wonderful teachers, yet not a single one could be found! Not Glorfindel or Erestor who would be in the meeting along with Elrond, you supposed it made sense that the twins would be there too. Yet you couldn’t even find Arwen to assist you or even keep you company.

Elves didn’t celebrate birthdays, so you tried not to be too upset with their lack of prioritizing it at all. That and this meeting from the sounds of it was far more important than you hoped it would be. But that didn’t change that you were feeling down about the lack of remembrance.

With a heavy groan you began to turn to leave until the door began to open and a slew of noisy elvish from two ellons caught your attention. Quickly you spun around at the same time Elladan did,

“Fu-”

“Elladan!” Elrohir hissed out venomously interrupting the expletive that was about to make its way out of his mouth. Then the other set of silver eyes landed on you and he sighed out heavily, a string of elvish coming from his lips as he rubbed his face in exasperation.

“Y/N! What a pleasant surprise!” Elladan began loudly and with grandiose, a charming smile plastered onto his face at the sight of you. You couldn’t help but frown at the suddenness of his charming and polite mood considering he and Elrohir practically ran away from you moments ago. You folded your arms over your chest and raised a brow as you kept the frown on your lips.

“Elladan... Elrohir.” You greeted rather flatley tapping your foot against the wooden floor softly as you stood there,

“I know you both heard me when I called for you. I just don’t understand why you ran away from me and didn’t say anything?” You asked unable to hide the tinge of concern that your friends were being mildly neglectful, they had always stopped before. But today they had made a point to get away from you.

“Forgive us for the grievance, Y/N. It was just that Ada said we must be back straight away, Elladan was late for the lesson.” Elrohir confessed to you gently, yet a faint smirk pulled at his lips as Elladan began to frown at the reveal. Only sighing as he began to nod as the two approached to walk with you.

“Yes.. I was late... for my lesson.” He answered unamused by this, you couldn’t help but feel the smile beginning to creep upon your lips. Considering just weeks ago Elladan had been bragging about how wonderfully educated he was,

“I thought you were fully educated Elladan?” You asked with mild confusion, but with more humor at this. You could see the way Elrohir’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction at your pressing,

“You see, Y/N, Elladan is a horrible strategist. You should see him when we are left to fight without a plan in place. So Ada asked that I sit in on the meeting, while Elladan was to take note and go over some lessons.” He smirked looking to his brother with a satisfied expression, you couldn’t help but begin to chuckle at this. Elladan quickly grumbling with a sigh,

“Oh, Y/N there you are!” A feminine voice piped up from behind you, bright blue eyes sparkling at the sight of you and a small smile pulling at her lips. Arwen, the very elleth you had been searching for before you followed the twins down here.

“Oh Elladan, are you finished with the lesson?” She chimed in making Elladan scowl quickly at her, making you laugh again as Arwen took her place beside you.

“I am afraid not, but Ada wanted to make sure that there wasn’t anything you needed, Y/N before we got back to work.” Elrohir added before Elladan could answer,

“But now that Arwen is here, she can assist. Come brother you have things to do.” Elrohir said, placing a hand on Elladan’s back and beginning to pull him along back to the library doors. He only began to try and squabble with his brother in elvish, hands flying up in exasperation making you and Arwen both snicker.

“I was needing help with one of my lessons, Arwen.” You explained as you turned to face your friend, she nodded in understanding, giving you a gentle smile motioning elegantly for you to follow along with her.

“That will certainly have to wait until Ada or Lindir is done with today’s meeting. For the time being let us spend some time together hm? It is your birthday.” She answered you warmly and you couldn’t help the happiness that began to bloom within. It felt good that your birthday was recognized and cared about by someone you cared about..

“You remembered.” You muttered with a soft smile and Arwen nodded at your words, her black hair bobbing with the motion.

“Of course I did. For such a special occasion you are underdressed, but that is alright we can remedy that mellon nin.” At that you followed in comfortable silence behind Arwen to her chambers, and for the next hour the two of you chatted casually with one another. Arwen sifting through some clothes for you helping you find something nice that you liked to wear for the day.

They were far nicer than what you bought for yourself on average but couldn’t make much of an argument as Arwen insisted that it was a gift. She patiently took her time showing you to to layer the outfit properly since you were used to simple singular layers. Decorating you with simple but beautiful jewelry and taking the time to braid your hair.

Not even an hour and a half later did Elladan come knocking on her door, explaining that Elrond had asked for you both. You couldn’t help but feel curiosity bubble inside of you and didn’t hesitate to follow behind the twin who insisted you both hurry.Though when you got to the door Elladan paused,

“Wait, Ada said he didn’t want you seeing the map.” He said and quickly came over to you and put his hands over your eyes, making you sigh out at this.

“I have been here since I was a teenager, and now I cannot be trusted over a map?” You asked, raising a brow, that came more as a surprise than anything! Then again if this was what Elrond wished, he surely had a reason for it.

“Ada’s orders, Y/N.” Elladan said matter of factly, you only sighed and began to walk forward. Elladan shuffling right behind you as Arwen began to open the door. You couldn’t help but outstretch your hands in search of the wall you may run into though so far it was clear.

For a long moment you were met with silence, even from Elladan who was usually very chatty, perhaps he was just in deep concentration as you walked through the library. Until finally he stopped at some point, as to where you were unsure for the moment.

“Keep your eyes closed until I say...” He breathed softly, slowly removing his hands from your eyes and you did as requested. Closing your eyes and left with only listening to him walk around to the front of you,

“Alright, open!” He said in a giddy voice, and as you did a collective and loud surprise came from the elves before you! Elrond standing in the center, with Erestor and Lindir to his left, the twins to his right and Glorfindel standing right behind Elrond. You couldn’t help but grin widely! Oh Eru were you surprised!?

Plain silver banners hung from the shelves, and a happy birthday banner was strung between them, the others moved revealing a table behind them with a cake that sat in the center. A few wrapped boxes surrounding the small cake,

“Happy Birthday Y/N.” Elrond began with a small smile,

“Is this... what you’ve been working on?” You asked with a bright and happy smile beginning to step forward, it was nothing extravagant but you weren’t complaining! They remembered your birthday and you couldn’t have asked for anything more!

“That it is, though we thought you’d have figured us out when you caught the twins running back here.” Glorfindel added with a soft chuckle, looking over to Elladan who gave the Lord a shrug in return.

“Yes while I am grateful for Elrohir’s quick thinking, he certainly didn’t have to make me look like a fool.” He began to grumble folding his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. Elrohir only smirked,

“Oh come now Elladan, now isn’t the time to squabble. We have a birthday to celebrate!” Elrohir said dismissing Elladan’s feelings entirely, you couldn’t help but laugh again at their squabbling. Gently you began to approach the group with Arwen in tow,

“Yes! No fighting! So let us celebrate and do so with cake!” You beamed, Elrond outstretching his arm and placing a hand on your shoulder to pull you into the circle of friends. Lindir being the one to pick up the knife to begin slicing into the tasty treat. You couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate your birthday than it be like this and you were oh so grateful that they even remembered such a trivial celebration in the eyes of elves.

Eru had truly blessed you with a wonderful life here in Rivendell.

* * *

Tags:

@saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @icarus-fell-in-spring

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chiliadicorum · 7 years ago

Text

Two Dead Husks and a Random Mithrandir

A/N: This is my gift for @datcilly for the @tolkiensecretsanta2017! A fic between two friends is what I came up with. Gandalf and Elrond were requested, with some fluff and fun. This kind of turned out with a little less fluff and fun than originally planned, so I hope you don’t mind that too much! But I loved writing this and hope it’ll make you happy if just a little bit! Merry Christmas! :D

(If reading on my blog is difficult, let me know and I’ll give you a link to a better page)

He had been sitting on that stretch of hilltop for at least an hour. Prone as he was to losing himself in his musings, he was not so lacking as others as to lose sense of the passage of time. And even if so, his grey palfrey happily obliged to remind him of the nearing midnight hour, growing more annoying with each persistent nudge to his shoulder with her muzzle. She did it again and Elrond leaned away, glaring up at her.

“I know! I know we must go. Stop reminding me.” He eased his voice to gentleness, too fond of the horse to be too flustered, though he still refused to pet her. Maybe she just wanted an apple. Maybe it was a sign that the living beings in Valinor were softer than those in Middle-earth, because he could swear that their horses and other such endearing creatures were more demanding of treats than in life before. Or maybe he was just being bitter.

“Elrond, Elrond, where has your warmth gone?” The familiar voice came from behind, warm itself and carrying great fondness.

Elrond frowned as he twisted around. “Mithrandir?” he said with a little surprise and in no little confusion. He had not seen him since their disembarking on the bays of Tol Eressëa all those years ago, when the joys of reunion for himself and all those who sailed with him had grown rapturous and the Maia had gone his own way. Elrond stared at the whitened hair and full beard, at his stooping frame and the wise, olden features of his face. His frown deepened. “Why do you yet clad yourself in that form? Say not you cannot leave it.”

He added the last more in jest and Mithrandir chuckled, shifting his robes before lowering himself to hunker down next to him in the ankle-deep snow. “Hardly. But in my true form, even as I appear to you mirroanwi, you would not be speaking with one whom you know, would you?”

Elrond gave a small smile. “Think you I am so shallow?”

Mithrandir’s own smile deepened, reaching up to his bright eyes. “Ah, I have missed you, my friend. And no. But I know from my Ages of dwelling with you Elves before my coming to Middle-earth that it takes some time to adjust, even though it has been years. For all your life, my People were but names recorded in your lore and seeing us in person is quite different, even one whom you saw in likeness of a Man.”

“It has been years.” Elrond glanced suspiciously behind him at his mount, who was now leaving him be and just swishing her tail. “Years since last we spoke, long enough I no longer count the years.”

“Years you deserved to rest in with your Celebrían,” he said warmly. “But come, you did not answer. What do you here all alone? Are you not supposed to be in Lórien?”

“Yes.” Tension he had not even been aware had left at the Maia’s arrival returned swiftly and it was an effort to not let it rise to the surface.

Mithrandir regarded him calmly, his eyes shining in that all too perceptive way Elrond was never sure if he liked or not. “Hm. Yet you are not.”

Elrond glanced at him and resisted a sigh, looking back out to the sight of legend before him. “I had a disagreement with Lord Irmo’s Master Healers.” He could not resist the sarcastic lilt in his voice. Yes, petty, but he was alone, unhappy, sitting in wet snow in the dead of night, so he did not care.

“Oh? Care to share? You know I will listen.”

Elrond lifted an eyebrow at the tone, the small smile reappearing. “You sound as if you already know.”

“Perhaps I do, but I can see it festering in you. You know talking relieves much restlessness, if you want to.”

“No.”

Mithrandir let out that subtle, rumbling chuckle deep in his chest, one so familiar that it sent Elrond off kilter for a moment. “Oh Elrond, so long has it been since I heard you so aggravated.” He looked both amused and endeared at the same time. “I will speak of it no more tonight, save only to lecture you to be of greater cheer. The Merendë Andohrívëo is in three days and your current mood is hardly one of celebration.”

He sighed truly this time, in chagrin and a little tired. “I know. I am returning to Tol Eressëa to spend it with Celebrían. Gil-galad wrote he is planning a few hearty festivities of his own, so I look forward to it.” He squinted off into the distance, contemplative. ��I am surprised Lord Irmo allowed me to leave. I was hardly polite and I do not believe he approved of my departure, at least in the way I did it. I know not if I am angrier with him or his healers.”

Mithrandir squeezed his shoulder. “I would say his healers for I know Lord Irmo better than you, but let it go for now, my friend. Take joy in the festival and try to spend it in peace.”

Elrond nodded. “Hence my return to Tol Eressëa.”

“And quite the detour you are taking to see yourself there, if I may say, riding this far northward.” Mithrandir turned to him fully, his expression turning serious, maybe even a little concerned. “Why did you come here? This is hardly a place of celebration, or a place to inspire such.”

Elrond looked back out to Ezellohar, at the two dead husks of gigantic proportions standing coupled together on their mound mantled in white. Even from this distance Elrond could easily discern which one was Telperion, for its shade of color was a little subtler, a little more grey even in death than that of Laurelin’s. No one was here, the vast expanse of snow undisturbed save where he had guided his horse. The snow was falling slow and steady and he knew there was a solid layer of it on his hair by now. His exterior was as cold as the snow he sat unmoving in, his clothing soaked through and his rear growing numb, though whether from the position or the chill he could not tell. The Two Trees alive and dead were visions he could only ever conjure in his imagination. While that was still true for the former, the rottenness and gnarled scarring in their lifeless husks went beyond anything he had envisioned and were hardly a sight to induce any good feeling. Mithrandir was right. This was no pleasant place, even in the peaceful snowfall of winter.

“Elrond?”

He gave a small shake of his head and his voice was soft. “Think not it is something profound, Mithrandir. This is not my first visit to Ezellohar, though it is in winter. I was merely curious, trying to guess at the sight of the Two Trees in all their glory during this particular season. How their Light might shine in the snow, in the snowfall….It is a wondrous sight to imagine.”

Mithrandir regarded him for a long moment, pursing his lips. “Winter did not exist in their lifetime, Elrond,” he pointed out. “You are a master of lore as few others. I should not have to tell you this.”

Elrond smiled fully at his laconic tone, his heart lightening. “I know that,” he drawled. “Elladan and Elrohir asked it when they were only three.”

“Did they?”

“Yes.” The smile remained, turning into one of soft affection. “When they learned that Glorfindel had lived in the Light of the Two Trees, they pestered him for details, as far demanding what it looked like during the winter months. In which Glorfindel then explained that there was no winter, which my boys could not understand, which then led Glorfindel into having to explain just why there was no winter.” He harrumphed. “Fathom clarifying that to two children of only three years. He did his best. I cringed. Erestor laughed. It was a good day.” Warmth spread through him at the memory. “I just recalled it all of the sudden today.”

Mithrandir’s voice was tender. “You miss your sons.”

Elrond looked away, hands briefly clenching where they were wrapped around his knees. “Of course I do.” He was quiet for several moments and the lance of pain was sharp in his chest. “It feels so long now that I cannot speak. Nor does Celebrían, but I know her heart, the turning of her thoughts. There are times I am furious I did not remain, regardless of how worn I was. Furious with myself I did not drag my children onto that ship with me. All of them.” His chest tightened and it was all he could do to keep it all at bay, just all shoved down and away. “Arwen decided to stay. My boys know nothing but Middle-earth and their love for those lands is great. A love I know, for I would have stayed a while longer if I had not been so weary.” He closed his eyes tight, the swelling in his chest moving up to his throat and he forced in a deep, shaking breath. “It has been so many years.”

“Many ships have yet to come. I am sure Glorfindel will convince them to board one if they are uncertain. Do not despair yet, my friend. Though you picked a fine place to dwell in despair if such was your goal. You always were good at that.”

Elrond found himself grinning in spite of himself and he looked at the other in mild appreciation. He shook his head, trying his best to shake off the melancholy. “You Maiar do not help. I have seen it enough, one of you approaching an Elf or another to tell them of family who is sailing. Whenever I see one I find myself expecting, hoping the message is for my wife and me, only to discover that it is not.” He paused, turning a curious glance on Mithrandir. “Is it always like that? You coming to us Elves?”

He nodded, beard bristling. “When someone is sailing, the Valar will send one of us to bring the good tidings to the Elf’s friends or family, simply to ensure that they may be greeted by someone known to them when they come ashore. To be escorted, if you will, into this new land and people.”

Elrond was nodding, turning his gaze back out to the Two Trees. “A courtesy any host would bestow upon newcomers.”

“Precisely. That it causes such joyous reunions is but a coincidence, you understand.”

He snorted in good humor. “Coincidence, sure.” Mithrandir’s soft laughter warmed him and the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “Is it also a coincidence you bring such tidings to them on days of festivity more often than not, such as the one in three days and others throughout the year?”

“No. Can you name better days for such announcements?” He grinned cheekily, which quickly relaxed into one more sincere. “It gladdens us when we may deliver true means of celebration. We brought word to your sweet lady of your own voyage across the sea during the Merendë Yavanniëo and she mayhap remembers it every year after on the day.”

Elrond looked over in mild surprise, eyes softening as he thought. “She did not say.”

“No matter.” Mithrandir suddenly stood, evidently not bothering to shake off the snow from his attire, instead holding an aged hand out to him. “Rise, Elrond, and return you home. Sitting here alone with only morose thoughts for company and after what happened in Lórien does you no good. The Merendë Andohrívëo is in three days. Go and make merry with those friends and family you do have with you at the moment. If you continue your journey now, you will just make it.”

Elrond grasped the hand and rose, brushing himself down from the clinging snow, though there was none to sweep off his rear seeing as all of it had melted into his leggings. He raised his eyebrows at Mithrandir, a glimmer of amusement brightening his eyes. “Is that why you are here, to shoo me off?” The palfrey clopped forward at a gesture and he made quick work of clearing the dusting of snow from her back. He mounted, adjusting the saddlebags back into balance.

“Well, you were not listening to your friend.” He gestured towards the palfrey and she jerked her head up with a snort, as if in agreement. “I could only encourage her so much before she began to grow annoyed with me.”

Elrond made a face, though he patted at her neck fondly. “She is annoyed easily.”

Mithrandir reached out to fondle her snout as he looked up, his grey gaze solemn. “If you find it within you to hear me, put your quarrel in Lórien behind you for the nonce. Let it not soil what joy you may find this week, dear one.”

“Perhaps I shall.” Elrond grinned. “Celebrían would not let me remain so sour as it is.” He bowed his head. “Farewell, Mithrandir. I hope to see you again. Soon and more frequently, mind you,” he added pointedly.

He chuckled. “And happily so, Child.” He jerked his head eastward past the Trees. “Off you go.”

And he did. With a fond smile and a wave, Elrond clicked his tongue and the horse responded, going slowly at first to descend the slope of the hill.

Mithrandir stood there, snow dancing around him as he watched him go, riding on and on until he was barely visible in the haze of white. He nodded to himself, humming under his breath. And then his form shifted, growing brighter, taller, both younger and older, beautiful of cosmic proportions and eyes of such radiance they eclipsed that of the stars.

He hummed again in consideration. “And perhaps a fellow Maia with news will be visiting you in three days,” he said quietly. A smile creased his ethereal face even as he faded from sight, the scent of apples and mint lingering on the air.

Merendë Andohrívëo: Winter Solstice celebration, lit. “Festival of the Gates of Winter”

Merendë Yavanniëo: “Festival of Yavanna”, taking place in Autumn or in our September

Mirroanwi: incarnates, those “put into flesh” [Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth MR.350]

#gandalf #elrond #lord of the rings #tolkien #tolkiensecretsanta2017 #datcilly #fanfiction #gwedhiel #merry christmas!

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