#and i’m crying laughing over frodo + looking to the left

[frodo-cinnamonroll]

Deeper than Fate (Part 2)

Prompt/request: **read part 1 first** As requested by @almost-gabrielle: Frodo wakes up the next night (after part 1) and feels pain while his wound is closing. It hurts him too much so that Y/N goes to get Lord Elrond so he can ease the pain in his shoulder. Frodo asks Y/N to stay with him until morning comes again.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: wounds/injuries, some trauma and fluff

-------------------------

“Could it be?”

I felt a gentle touch on my cheek, light but warm. Opening my eyes, I saw Frodo, the little halfling I had aided, looking down on me. My head rested on his bedside and I sat in the wooden chair I last remembered being in. I had fallen asleep.

Frodo pulled his hand back as soon as I opened my eyes, wonder in his eyes but also something close to pain.

“You’re awake,” I said, sitting up. “How do you feel?”

Frodo stuttered for a moment. “You are the one in my dream.”

“Dream?”

“What happened?”

I sighed. “You were attacked by one of the Nine, their leader. The blade almost killed you. Had it not been for Elrond you would not have survived.”

“Elrond? Like the Elf from Bilbo’s tales?”

“Yes.”

“You know Bilbo?”

“Of course,” I said with a smile. “He talks of you a lot. I’ve stayed here in Rivendell for the past two or three months and I knew him quite well before then. I am fond of halflings.”

“But . . . how?” Frodo said. “You were in the dream. After . . . after I was stabbed everything seemed hazy and I couldn’t tell whether I was awake or asleep or worse. But you were there, shining as you are now, in the moonlight. Who are you? An elf?”

“Half-elf,” I said. “I’m Aragorn’s sister. I am adopted, mind you, but we are siblings nonetheless.”

“Aragorn?”

“Ah, right. He goes by many names. I believe you call him Strider.”

“Strider! Is he here?”

“I do not know.”

“What is your name?”

“You are full of questions,” I said with a small laugh. “And rightly so considering all that has happened. My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Frodo repeated. “I like that.”

I smiled again, looking at the halfling in admiration.

Frodo shifted and winced, his hand going up to his shoulder.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

“Like fire on the inside,” Frodo said, taking a breath.

A shadow suddenly passed over the open balcony, an owl swooping low and landing on a tree nearby. Frodo flinched and his eyes widened.

“You have nothing to fear here, Frodo,” I said. “You are safe in Rivendell.”

Frodo said nothing and seemed to be shaking. He seemed dazed with a sudden surge of pain. He let his head fall back on his pillow with uneven breaths.

“Frodo?” I said, looking at his face.

“It hurts,” Frodo said in a strained voice. He moaned softly and tears ran down his cheeks.

I placed my hand on his forehead. He seemed warmer than normal.

“Will you let me look at it?” I said.

Frodo managed a nod.

I pulled back his shirt and reached for the bandage. “This might hurt a little,” I said. As gently as I possibly could, I pulled off the bandage but some of it stuck to the raw wound itself and Frodo let out a cry.

“I’m so sorry!” I said, leaving the rest of the bandage. I didn’t have the heart to finish. I stood. “I am going to find Master Elrond. I will be back soon.”

Quickly, I dashed out of the room and found Elrond’s. He was sitting in his library, pouring over  a book and some maps.

“Master Elrond!” I said, bowing.

He looked up and smiled. “Y/N, what is it?”

“It’s the halfling. He is awake but in much pain.”

Elrond face became more solemn and he stood with a nod and followed me back to the room. Frodo lay there as he was before. It was now that I noticed the Ring on the chain around his neck. I paid it no heed after that, however. Elrond bent over Frodo and put his hand on his head as I had. Frodo watched him with wide eyes. Elrond gently continued pulling the bandage off. Frodo let out another cry followed by more tears and he reached for Elronds arm with his right one. His left one was still limp. I sat on the bed and grasped his hand in mine.

“It’s going to be alright,” I said. “Elrond is helping you. There is only a little left.”

Frodo whimpered, still stricken by the pain that wasn’t easing. “Please” was all he could manage to say.

I picked him up in my arms and held his head to my chest.

“Shh,” I said, rocking a little. “It will be alright.”

Elrond finished pulling the bandage off and brought some of the oils he had used earlier. He gently applied them, Frodo still grimaced and flinched, but he didn’t fight. As Elrond finished, he whispered an elvish blessing over Frodo and the halfling relaxed. Finally, it was done and Elrond applied another bandage.

 “You will be alright Master Baggins,” he said. “Your wound is healing quicker than I had thought. The poison is still leaving the wound. That is what is causing you all this pain. But it should be closed and healed by tomorrow. This is the last bandage you will need.”

“Thank you,” Frodo whispered. I could tell he was fighting the exhaustion. “You are welcome,” Elrond said with a small bow. “Get some rest for tomorrow.” He nodded once in respect and left the room.

I looked at Frodo who sat up, leaning against me. His eyelids were getting heavy.

“I should probably leave now.” I said quietly.

Frodo stirred. “No, please stay,” he said.

“I won’t be a bother to you. You need rest.”

“I will rest better if you are here,” Frodo said. “I know I have only just met you but I am fond of you already.”

I shook my head with a smile. “I am fond of you too. Alright, then. But you must rest. No more talking.”

Frodo nodded, laying his head on my chest. Almost instantly his eyes were closed and he relaxed fully, a small smile on his face. I caressed his curly hair, kissing his head gently.

“Gandalf was right,” I whispered, smiling to myself. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

And there I sat until morning came, with someone who was brought to me by something deeper than Fate.

[ebaeschnbliah]

‘Back to the boats, Sam, like lightning!'

Sam stopped and puffed. Suddenly he clapped his hand to his head.

`Whoa, Sam Gamgee! ' he said aloud. `Your legs are too short, so use your head! Let me see now! Boromir isn't lying, that's not his way; but he hasn't told us everything. Something scared Mr. Frodo badly. He screwed himself up to the point, sudden. He made up his mind at last to go. Where to? Off East. Not without Sam? Yes, without even his Sam. That's hard, cruel hard.'

Sam passed his hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears. 'Steady, Gamgee! ' he said. `Think, if you can! He can't fly across rivers, and he can't jump waterfalls. He's got no gear. So he's got to get back to the boats. Back to the boats! Back to the boats, Sam, like lightning! '

Sam turned and bolted back down the path. He fell and cut his knees. Up he got and ran on. He came to the edge of the lawn of Parth Galen by the shore, where the boats were drawn up out of the water. No one was there. There seemed to be cries in the woods behind, but he did not heed them. He stood gazing for a moment. stock-still, gaping. A boat was sliding down the bank all by itself. With a shout Sam raced across the grass. The boat slipped into the water.

`Coming, Mr. Frodo! Coming! ' called Sam, and flung himself from the bank, clutching at the departing boat. He missed it by a yard. With a cry and a splash he fell face downward into deep swift water. Gurgling he went under, and the River closed over his curly head.

An exclamation of dismay came from the empty boat. A paddle swirled and the boat put about. Frodo was just in time to grasp Sam by the hair as he came up, bubbling and struggling. Fear was staring in his round brown eyes.

`Up you come, Sam my lad! ' said Frodo. `Now take my hand! '

`Save me, Mr. Frodo! ' gasped Sam. `I'm drownded. I can't see your hand.'

`Here it is. Don't pinch, lad! I won't let you go. Tread water and don't flounder, or you'll upset the boat. There now, get hold of the side, and let me use the paddle!'

With a few strokes Frodo brought the boat back to the bank. and Sam was able to scramble out, wet as a water-rat. Frodo took off the Ring and stepped ashore again.

`Of all the confounded nuisances you are the worst, Sam! ' he said.

'Oh, Mr. Frodo, that's hard! ' said Sam shivering. `That's hard, trying to go without me and all. If I hadn't a guessed right, where would you be now? '

`Safely on my way.'

`Safely! ' said Sam. `All alone and without me to help you? I couldn't have a borne it, it'd have been the death of me.'

'It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam,' said Frodo and I could not have borne that.'

`Not as certain as being left behind,' said Sam.

`But I am going to Mordor.'

`I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I'm coming with you.'

`Now, Sam,' said Frodo, `don't hinder me! The others will be coming back at any minute. If they catch me here. I shall have to argue and explain, and I shall never have the heart or the chance to get off. But I must go at once. It's the only way.'

`Of course it is,' answered Sam. 'But not alone. I'm coming too, or neither of us isn't going. I'll knock holes in all the boats first.'

Frodo actually laughed. A sudden warmth and gladness touched his heart. `Leave one! 'he said. `We'll need it. But you can't come like this without your gear or food or anything.'

'Just hold on a moment, and I'll get my stuff!' cried Sam eagerly. 'It's all ready. I thought we should be off today.' He rushed to the camping place, fished out his pack from the pile where Frodo had laid it when he emptied the boat of his companions' goods grabbed a spare blanket, and some extra packages of food, and ran back.

`So all my plan is spoilt! ' said Frodo. `It is no good trying to escape you. But I'm glad, Sam. I cannot tell you how glad. Come along! It is plain that we were meant to go together. We will go, and may the others find a safe road! Strider will look after them. I don't suppose we shall see them again.'

`Yet we may, Mr Frodo. We may,' said Sam.

So Frodo and Sam set off on the last stage of the Quest together. Frodo paddled away from the shore, and the River bore them swiftly away. down the western arm, and past the frowning cliffs of Tol Brandir. The roar of the great falls drew nearer. Even with such help as Sam could give, it was hard work to pass across the current at the southward end of the island and drive the boat eastward towards the far shore.

At length they came to land again upon the southern slopes of Amon Lhaw. There they found a shelving shore, and they drew the boat out, high above the water, and hid it as well as they could behind a great boulder. Then shouldering their burdens, they set off, seeking a path that would bring them over the grey hills of the Emyn Muil, and down into the Land of Shadow.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring,  The Breaking of the Fellowship

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Imagine helping Legolas deal with a sprained ankle

It was all your fault, so Legolas would say.

“If you hadn’t had been so reckless, I wouldn’t have had to jump down from the boulder to assist you with the orc,” he’d complain regularly, from his position forcibly laying down in his sleeping pack with an elevated foot.

Whenever he’d try to rise again to bicker louder with you, a tending Aragorn would push him down again with a hand to his chest.

It was funny the first few days, you couldn’t lie, but now? Well, now it was just sad.

Legolas prided himself on his athletic ability, that much was obvious to you and the rest of the Fellowship early into your journey.

He’d regularly prance ahead like a young foal, or walk across snow with a smug smirk on his face. He was the strongest member there, and never let anyone forget it. This is also why he took injury the worst out of everyone.

It wasn’t, in all actuality, technically your fault. You needed help with an orc, yes, but Legolas timing his jump wrong and spraining his ankle had nothing to do with you.

Alas, he was gaining cabin fever from his immobilised state, therefore anger was bubbling in his chest—directed at you. You didn’t take it personally, but it was starting to wear down on you.

The walks through the days were slower, as Legolas would limp along with a homemade walking stick, fashioned out of a long branch.

Whenever he’d notice you or someone else looking at him over his shoulder, as he bared his teeth in wincing hurt, he’d quickly glare and push on harder.

You’d softly shake your head, but look away regardless.

It was unnatural to see an elf in such a state, like roses freezing over. Even more so, it was unnatural to see Legolas so grumpy. He was quite light-hearted at the beginning of the journey—you remember making a mental note that he’d probably be one of the best to hang around with due to so.

Alas, his sprained ankle and no doubt self-inflicted embarrassment brought the deeply rooted competitiveness out within him.

You were all sat around a fire tonight (save for Boromir and Gimli, who were off scouting the area), like many other evenings—laughing and pulling rabbit meat off of a skewer.

Legolas was a few yards away, pouting in his sleeping bag. You had brought his food to him a few minutes earlier, but he turned you away and claimed he wasn’t hungry.

“You’ll need sustenance to heal, little elf,” you laughed, trying to humour him.

All you received was a gruff grunt, and, “Don’t tell me how elves heal—I’m quite aware of my own race, thank you very much.”

You heard Pippin hissing through a wince, and bared your own teeth in cringe as you turned on your heel and headed back towards the campfire.

“Pay him no mind,” Aragorn said, leaning across to you. “Elves, especially the Mirkwood strain, are very prideful folk. He’ll come to his senses once his foot heals.”

“I can’t imagine it’ll heal anytime soon if he keeps pushing himself every day like he’s doing,” you pointed out.

Aragorn sighed. “That is entirely Thranduil’s blood coming out in him.”

“Remind me to never step foot in Mirkwood then,” you grinned.

Aragorn gave a toothy smile back, and bonked his skewer with yours in a “cheers to that” motion.

You could feel Legolas’ eyes burning into the back of your head, but paid it no mind. You didn’t dare glance over your shoulder, lest Mordor freeze over.

The rest of the camp continued on in low chatter, that is until Boromir and Gimli came rushing back—completely out of breath.

“What is it?” Aragorn asked right away.

“Orc scouts,” Boromir answered, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Thirty, give or take, approaching from the west.”

The camp looked around at each other quickly in fright, before Aragorn jumped into action. Rising to his feet, he grabbed his sword and dictated everyone else to do the same.

“We’ll meet them half way and use the element of surprise,” he said.

Legolas began rising to his own feet, though, a great deal of strained effort was noticeable on his end.

“I’m coming, I just need to get my bow,” Legolas announced, barely able to move the foot resting on a sleeping pack.

“No, not you, mellon nîn,” said Aragorn, upholding a hand and motioning for Legolas to lay down again. “Please, stay behind. Though your valiance is admirable, you will only get in the way of this fight. Rest, and fight when your ankle heals.”

Legolas’ face contorted in hurt, and you imagined this was the first time the athletic prince had ever been sidelined.

You all stood around in misplaced guilt, fiddling with your swords and avoiding eye contact with Legolas.

Finally, the elf’s jaw set, and he forcibly fell back down into sheets—turning over and pulling the covers up over his shoulder.

“We can’t leave him vulnerable,” Sam pointed out, whispering quietly as to not anger Legolas further. However, you could see his pointed ears twitching back, and knew he heard every gut-punching word.

Aragorn nodded, and turned his eyes to you. The hobbits had to stay under the protection of Aragorn, and leaving Frodo and the Ring out of sight and alone behind in the camp simply wasn’t an option.

Aragorn gestured between you and Legolas discreetly. Understanding his words, you dropped your shoulders and sighed.

“I’ll stay back and tend to the camp,” you announced.

The rest of the Fellowship gave you an apologetic look, before running off into the forest towards the orcs.

You were soon left with the silence of the camp, save for the angered breathing of Legolas and the crackling of the dimming fire.

Stood there unsure of what to do in the awkward space, you continued fiddling with the pommel of your sword, and looked at Legolas.

His back was rising and falling quickly—clearly infuriated with the whole situation. You felt bad for him, you really did, but you were still unsure of how to approach him.

Looking down to the fire again, you saw untouched skewers of meat, and arrived at a resolution.

With the food in hand, you walked over to the prince. He could hear you coming, and with every crunch of your boots on the foliage, his eyes twitched.

Sitting down beside his back, you placed a hand on the broad of his shoulder and shook him gently. “The rabbit smells really good, and has that beautiful, slightly charred smoky taste. Seems a waste to not eat it, no?”

“Not hungry,” Legolas grumbled.

“You need to heal your ankle, Legolas,” you said again, this time sterner. “You need to ea—”

“Not. Hungry.”

Thinning your lips, you shook your head down at Legolas in disappointment. “Legolas, I know you’re upset with me regarding your ankle, but holding a grudge isn’t going to—”

He swiftly turned over in his pack, and stared at the dimming fire.

“We need more firewood,” he said, glaring at the dying flames.

You followed his line of sight, and noticed he was indeed right. However, you recalled the orcs and what Aragorn expected of you.

“We’ll just have to wait for the others. I can’t leave the camp to fetch more, and I definitely can’t leave you vulnerable to—”

“Ugh! I’ll do it myself!” Legolas exclaimed. He rose swiftly and tried limping out into the woods with clenched fists and squared shoulders.

“Legolas!” you called, quickly grabbing your sword and cursing under your breath. “Wait! You shouldn’t be on that ankle!”

But he was already marching on.

Heading a few strides out into the forest, Legolas went farther and farther to find the best firewood. You ran behind him, surprised he could go so far for someone who was injured.

“Wait!” you yelled again, finally jumping out in front of him. “Go back to sleep, Legolas. Now.”

He merely glared at you, and stepped around your form—pushing on.

Groaning in frustration, you turned around and pulled on his shoulder. “I’m serious, Legolas! There are orcs out here at the moment, and I need to stay by the camp!”

“Then you can go back,” Legolas growled, forcibly shoving your hand off of his shoulder. “I don’t need to be babysat by you.”

“No,” you agreed, “but you do need my help with your ankle!”

Grabbing the bottom of his cloak, you started pulling him back towards the camp.

“Let go!” he shouted, digging his one good heel into the ground and pulling his cape back—initiating a tug of war between you both.

“No!” you denied, pulling the cloak again. “You’re coming back with me, and that’s final!”

“NO!” Pull. “I’m helping by getting firewood!”

Yank. “You’re not helping at all! You’re putting me in a tough situation instead!”

“It’s not your problem!” Tug.

“Yes, it is!” you exclaimed, pulling the cloak one more time. “It is my problem, because you’ve become a HUGE problem for the entire Fellowship!”

Upon pulling one last time, Legolas lost his footing and tripped, causing you both to fall down.

You each groaned in pain as your backs were sprawled across the foliage. Legolas was the first to sit up, but immediately yelped in pain as he did so.

He held his ankle tight, and bared his teeth as to stop himself from crying out.

“It’s worse,” he whispered, avoiding your eyes. “My ankle—I think I hurt it more.”

You stared at Legolas in horror, as he clutched said sore ankle. You sat up next to him, and ran a finger along it.

He jolted immediately, and fought back another cry by biting down on his bottom lip.

“Dammit, Legolas…” you cursed, furrowing your brows and shaking your head. “Why couldn’t you have just listened to me? You need to rest.”

Upon glaring up at him, you were taken aback, for there were unshed tears in the elf’s eyes. He was clearly holding himself back from letting them fall, as he sniffled and studied his ankle.

“Legolas?” you called softly, reaching a hand up and gently directing his chin to face you. “What’s going on with you?”

Letting the first tear fall, and swallowing the lump in his throat, Legolas spoke up in a quiet voice—finally unbottling his emotions.

“I’m supposed to be the athlete,” he said, studying your eyes before looking down again. “I was always the best in training. I’ve pushed myself through rain, mud and more, because I’ve always been the best. And now? Now I can’t even fetch firewood for my friends...”

Sympathy overtook your eyes, as you suddenly understood the elf.

“You still are the best here, Legolas,” you promised, trying to catch his eyes as he averted them. “A sprained ankle means nothing in the grand scheme of it. You are, without a doubt, the strongest one of us here. None of us think differently of you simply because you’re hurt.”

“But I feel so useless!” he exclaimed, letting a few more tears fall. “My friends are out there right now pulling their own weight against the orcs, and I’m stuck here crying on the ground because I can’t even walk.”

“But you will walk again,” you assured him, turning his chin once more. “And when that day comes—which isn’t too far off, mind you—those orcs will wish they hadn’t ever left Mordor.”

You laughed brightly for a moment in afterthought, earning a smile from Legolas.

“What?” he asked gently.

“Do you remember how you took that cave troll down in Moria?” you chuckled again, thinking of the memory. “You scaled atop the darn thing and shot two arrows into its brain!”

“Three…” Legolas sheepishly corrected, now grinning in a shy way.

“Three,” you annulled, grinning back up at him. “Trust me, Legolas. Your friends think nothing less of you than pure amazing talent. Don’t let it eat away at you.”

Legolas nodded to himself for a moment, before another sheepish grin formed on his lips. “Speaking of eating…are there any of those rabbit meat skewers still left back at camp?”

You smiled warmly, and helped him up.

He tentatively accepted your aid, and slowly wrapped an arm over your shoulder, as you helped him limp back to camp.

“C’mon, athlete. Let’s get you some food.”

[vibesandwonders]

“The what?”

“The Lord of the Rings,” Sam stops dead, and jogs back to him, “You serious? You said you read the Hobbit?”

“Yeah?”

“JRR Tolkien?”

“Yes.” Bucky runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

“But you don’t know The Lord of the Rings?”

“If you keep repeating it, maybe it’ll catch this time.”

Sam’s mouth falls open, “Mother of— they froze you before Lord of the friggin Rings?”

Bucky blows out a blast of annoyed air and moves to run, Sam grabs his forearm, “Stop that, we’re talkin—“

“—We are running.”

“Not anymore,” Sam leans his weight on Bucky and laughs, “Shit. I always forget that they popsicled you,” He shakes his head, “Tolkien, he wrote the Hobbit yeah, but like… ten years later he wrote a Trilogy, the Trilogy, like, the one to rule them all.”

“Are they any good?”

Sam practically squeals with laughter, his arm still looped inside Bucky’s, “Yes.” He says, emphatically, grinning so much that Bucky is tempted to smile back, almost, “The movies are good too.”

“Movies?”

“Moving pictures?” Sam grins wider, “Talkies?”

Bucky tilts his head, rolls his eyes, already ready to run again, Sam’s having none of it, he starts pulling Buck back the way they came,

“What about the run?”

“This,” Sam insists, “Is more important, we gotta head back,”

“It’s 7am.”

“Exactly, which means we’ve got time to hit the store on the way home,”

“Why?”

“Provisions, we’re gonna be busy all day, we need to have snacks and keep hydrated.”

“What?”

“Extended editions baby, this is a 12-hour Lord of the Rings lockdown,” He grins at Bucky, “Consider yourself absolutely blessed that I was nerdy as hell in high school. I gotta text Torres, tell him we are taking the day off.”

“You’re taking a day off, from being Captain America?”

“He’ll understand.”

~ Hours later~

“Bucky,” He sighs, and plants his palms on the kitchen countertop, “James Buchanan Barnes,” Nothing.

He takes his phone out and pauses the damn TV,

The man in question rotates very slightly, his eyes wide, red, in shock, also as pissed as Sam had quite possibly ever seen him, including the time he was kicked off a domestic flight home because of his ‘metal arm’.

“You good?” Sam asks,

“So they just left him? After he sacrificed himself to get them out and across the bridge of Khazad-dûm and away from the Balrog?”

Oh Jesus,

“The bridge of Khaza—" He stops himself, chuckles, can't help it, he shouldn't surprised by this and yet, "Yeah man, they couldn’t—“

“What? Walk out there and grab his hands? There were eight men,” He shakes his head incredulously, “Bilbo’s nephew, wouldn’t walk twenty feet to save Gandalf?”

“Wait wait, Are you crying man?” He smirks, teasing, “There are two and a half more movies to go Buck, and you’re already out here cryin’ your ass off, you gotta chill—“

Bucky regards him sourly, “Have you even read the Hobbit?”

“Not even gonna dignify that kinda hostility with an answer James.”

He unpauses the tv and digs through the fridge, a moment later, the TV pauses again,

“Sorry.” Bucky mutters, “I uh, I’m enjoying them.”

“I can tell.” Sam says, and again, a grown-ass man getting way too sucked in to a High Fantasy trilogy 60 years late shouldn’t be damn adorable, but it is, “You hungry, oh member of the fellowship?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, turns back around,

“Is there coffee?”

Sam grins, and starts filling the water kettle.

“We, are gonna take a break.”

Bucky spins, finger already on the remote to jump to the next movie, Sam shakes his head.

“You haven’t eaten yet, and this is our…shit, third pot of coffee.”

“But they’re taking the hobbits to Isengard.”

Sam cackles, “Yeah, you are indeed correct, that is happening, but, we got 8 more hours of cinematic masterpiece, and you— are gonna eat somethin’”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Would Aragorn not sustain himself while trying to rescue Merry and Pippin?” He asks dramatically,

Another eyeroll, but he stands and stretches, folding one of the new blankets that had somehow started appearing randomly inside his apartment.

“How do you feel about cookies?”

He watches the top of his head twist, but Bucky’s eyes don’t leave the screen, “Thought we were eating lunch?”

Sam laughs, “Thai?”

He texts Sarah, attaches a picture of Bucky swathed in a blanket, staring in fascination at the TV.

“He’s never seen Lord of the Rings.” And then a bunch of laughing emojis.

“So where’s Rohan in relation to Mordor?” Bucky asks over the top of the couch, “They keep talking about the Gap of Rohan, but then…”

“Google it.”

“You’ve got your phone.” Bucky argues, “Do library books still have the maps in the back nowadays?”

Sam’s already got his app open, Complete Works of JRR Tolkien, Hardback

He swipes and makes sure they have maps— New York freakin City, it’ll be delivered before they finish the second one.

“Sam needs to kill Gollum.”

He looks up at the mention of his name, grinning at the screen, then back at the microwave: he lost rock, paper, scissors, so popcorn’s on him.

“Smeagol?”

Bucky purses his lips, unimpressed, “He is clearly untrustworthy, “

“Sam’s also a little jealous of Frodo’s attention, they’ve been one-on-one for a while now,”

“I guess,”

“Frodo also sees a lot of himself in Smeagol, what he could have become…”

Bucky pauses the movie, “they’ve still got those elf-blades.” He mutters, “He’s talking to himself, and creeping off in the night, Sam should kill him, and tell Frodo he found him that way.”

“He was Aragorn’s best friend,” Bucky murmurs, his voice is a little choked up, “He came to defend the men of Rohan.”

“Mmmhmm.”

Sarah’s texted him back:

“Oh god, you found another geek.” She says, “Are ya’ll gonna like have a Star Trek themed wedding?”

Bucky’s got the second book open across his knees, his fingers holding it open so he can occasionally frown down at the maps.

“He died protecting him.”

“They had a bond.” Sam agrees, “Read the appendices, there’s loads more about the elves. Just wait until you get deep in the Silmarillion.”

“Yeah.” Bucky says, only half-listening, “Starting to think his ‘heir of Gondor’ schtick is getting old, man can’t even protect his friends— and where is Gandalf?”

“Are you shitting on Aragorn? Son of Arathorn?”

Bucky shrugs, “Just seems like he’s avoiding his calling, what he’s good at, born to do… running from it, cause he’s scared.”

“It’s a lot of responsibility he didn’t ask for.” Sam replies mildly,

“Tough shit. Sometimes you just gotta use the cards you’re dealt.” Bucky stands, “I gotta pee.”

“You think I should grow my hair out?”

Sam hides his grin, making an effort not to stare at Aragorn on screen, who is currently smoldering with the best of them,

“I think you should do whatever makes you happy, Buck.” He takes a sip of his coffee (decaf this time) and stares fondly (not really) at the side of Bucky’s face. Sure, he’s distracted, but at least this time it’s not damn mission files.

Buck grunts, they’re sprawled next to each other on the couch, knees touching, blankets shared and spread between them. Between bathroom breaks and Sam occasionally poking Bucky to make sure he was still breathing, personal space had become even less of an issue than usual. Not that Sam was terribly bothered by it. They’re roommates, sorta? Partners?

A couple of guys.

“So, Arwen or Eowyn?” Bucky asks, still unblinking, Sam is pretty sure he unleashed a monster, cause this boy is a nerd. He’s already googled other trilogies, on Sam’s phone. Sam is pretty sure movie night might become a thing.

Buck’s still waiting on his answer, it’s a timeless question to be sure, Sam pretends to ponder it.

“Eomer actually.” He says, keeping his eyes on the screen, “Loyal, strong, and the man knows how to ride.”

actual fic here plus others, leave some love, say hi,

[bonjour-rainycity]

Cold Shoulder

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Rating: T 

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable. Also, I edited after a glass of wine. So. I think I shall blame any mistakes on that. 

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence

Request: Aragorn x Reader where he protects the reader but she is mad at him because of that and gives him a silent shoulder. Much fluff please (Anon)

A/n Anon, thank you for the request!! I enjoyed writing this and love me some Aragorn content <3 Also, for context, I placed the reader in the Fellowship. Okay, read on!

The sharp cry pierces the peace of the early morning.

“Orcs!”

Legolas, who had been standing watch and discovered the threat, immediately begins firing arrows, keeping the pack at bay. The rest of us spring into action, drawing weapons and shouldering our bags, looking to Aragorn to determine our next move. Despite the jolt of fear that runs through me, I know that luck is on our side. For one, our group had planned to set out shortly, meaning our camp is packed and we run no risk of leaving anything behind. Second, it was Legolas on watch, and his keen eyesight gave us critical early warning.

I feel a rough hand wrap around mine, and I’m yanked into a sprint. I nearly stumble at the speed Aragorn sets, but force myself to keep pace. A quick look at my surroundings tells me why we’re running — our camp is secluded, but there are too many high spots around us for it to be favorable in a fight. I can assume that we are making for higher or more open ground, so that we will not be at a disadvantage when the orc pack inevitably catches us.

There’s a muffled yelp, and I whip my head around to see Frodo tripping and falling roughly to the ground.

“Aragorn—” His name has barely left my lips when I feel his hands on my back, spurring me on, and he leaves my side, running back to aid our hobbit friend. Closer than I would like, the wails of the orc grow louder, and, at my right, Boromir speeds up, hauling Merry along with him.

The three of us break through the tree-line first, and immediately, an arrow whizzes above my head.

Damn it, they cut us off!

I don’t have much time to dwell on how the monsters got around us unnoticed, because a tall, imposing orc lunges in my direction. I raise my dagger and put all my focus into not letting the orc’s razor-sharp sword pierce my skin.

The shrieks and grunts of battle, as well as the shrill clanking of metal hitting metal fill the air. The orc jabs his sword at me, and I jump to my left. As the orc takes another swing, an arrow soars mere millimeters from my ear and imbeds itself in my attacker’s eye. I don’t even have time to shoot Legolas a thankful glance, because another beast catches my arm and pulls me against his foul-smelling side. I swipe at his arm with my dagger, and with a howl of pain, he throws me to the ground, raising his sword. I roll to the side, narrowly dodging the slice of steel, and push myself back to my feet. The orc is distracted, struggling with his weapon which is embedded in the ground, leaving the side of his neck exposed. I lift my dagger, and step forward, intent on ending this fight—

An arm grips my waist and pulls me back, moving me out of the way and slaying the orc.

I gawk at Aragorn, who, with the focused eyes of battle, rips his sword free of the orc’s neck and spins, killing a beast to his right.

“I had it,” I shout over the noise, unable to contain my frustration.

Aragorn straightens to face me, eyes wide. “Your back!”

Immediately, I turn on my heel and raise my dagger, pushing against the knife meant to impale my unguarded back. The orc is stronger than me, but if I can hold him off for just a few seconds more, I can reach for my other dagger and stab him in the stomach. As my hand twitches towards my belt, a sword passes around my side, impaling the orc with a sickening squelch.

Once again, I fix Aragorn with disbelieving eyes.

What was the point of investing all that time training me if I don’t get to use any of said training?!

The sounds of battle begin to fade, and, with a final swing of Gimili’s axe, the fighting is done.

We take stock of our injuries which are, thankfully, minor, and pull the dead orc deep into the tree line, not wanting to draw attention to our path. After the quickest of rests and a wash-up in the stream, we continue, Aragorn insisting that we cannot take any unnecessary delays now that we have orc interested in us.

We begin our trek, mostly in tired silence.

At the front of the group, Aragorn and Legolas do a mixture of scouting and chatting, seeming more relaxed the farther we get from the site of the attack. Aragorn doesn’t usually walk with me, preferring instead to lead with Legolas and keep an eye out for danger. Usually, I wish he would stay by my side, but today, I am grateful for the distance, as I’m not feeling too kindly towards him at the moment. I can’t stop myself from glaring at his back, resenting him taking away my right to handle myself in battle. But after an hour of lonely overthinking, resentment gives way to insecurity. What if he only jumped in because he thinks I’m weak? He’s probably not the only one…compared to everyone else, what advantages do I have? They probably all, to some extent, see me as a burden.

Gimli jogs up next to me, fixing me with a mildly concerned look.

“You alright, lassie? Not hurt, are ya?”

Aragorn’s head tilts in our direction. He’s listening.

Unable to contain my annoyance at his continued monitoring, I huff. “I’m fine, Gimli, thanks. Just tired.”

Gimli looks at the ground, seemingly unable to reconcile my usual friendliness with this foul mood. “Aye, well, t’is to be expected, after the morning we had. You fought well.”

I cross my arms, cocking my head to the side. “Did I? Because, as I remember it, I was barely allowed to fight at all.”

At this, I hear light sniggering behind me, and whip my head around to see a quickly composed Merry and Pippin looking anywhere but me.

Gimli makes a sighing, almost grumbling noise, and walks off to join his friends at the front of the group. Aragorn hangs back a little, waiting for me to catch up before resuming a slower pace.

“What troubles you?”

Getting right to the chase, then.

I huff angrily, my annoyance from this morning only growing now that I’ve had hours to stew about it. Because really, I am well-trained, I am capable, and he had no business neglecting his own safety to help me when I wasn’t in any actual danger. I had it all under control! And rather than feeling like a warrior equal with my companions, I feel like a girl who just slows them down and needs babysitting.

Aragorn stops walking and grips my elbow lightly, pulling me to stop with him. “I cannot help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

I glare at him. Can I handle nothing on my own?! “Well, maybe I don’t want your help, Aragorn.”

He sighs, sounding frustrated, but lets me go.

Neither of us makes an attempt to talk to the other for the remainder of our hike.

{***}

We stop when it is well and properly dark, making hasty camp. I drop my bedroll and begin preparing for the night, cleaning my dagger and shoes as best I can. The others sit on rocks near the fire, eyeing me warily.

Pippin elbows Merry and hisses in a low voice,“go and talk to her, something’s obviously wrong with her.”

Merry’s eyes grow comically wide, and he fixes his friend with an indignant expression. “Why does it have to be me, then?! I don’t want to get yelled at.”

“Because I checked on Frodo last Thursday when he was in a mood, and now it’s your turn.”

“I didn’t realize we were taking turns,” Merry whisper-shouts, oblivious to the fact that everyone can hear their argument just fine.

Sam fixes them with a pleading look before glancing over to me. “Miss Y/n, do you not want supper?” He hesitantly holds a bowl in my general direction.

“No, thank you,” I respond, cooler than intended. He blinks at me for a moment, and then hands the bowl to an amused Boromir.

I feel the weight of everyone’s questioning stares, hear their hushed whispers, and cannot take it one moment longer.

“I’m going to get more firewood,” I declare, tucking my dagger back into my belt and trudging deeper into the forest.

The woods are dark, but there is sufficient light from the moon, and I pick my way through the trees, looking for fallen logs and branches. I don’t stray to where I can no longer hear the voices of my friends, though — I may be angry, but I’m not stupid.

Less than two minutes later, the sound of light footsteps creeps into my hearing.

Aragorn walks to my side, bending to grasp and examine a log that might make for good firewood. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. “Sam put aside some soup for you, though I would not delay if you wish to eat it. I saw Pippin eyeing it with interest.”

When I don’t laugh or give any indication that I heard him, he shifts on his feet, unsure. “I feel tension between us. I’ve upset you?”

I make a noncommittal noise and go a few yards deeper in the forest.

“Y/n?”

With a resigned sigh, I turn to face him, knowing that my silence is hurting him. “It’s stupid.”

Obviously pleased that I’m speaking to him now, Aragorn takes quick steps towards me, wearing an open expression. “If I have done something to hurt you, you have every right to be upset.”

I resist the urge to groan. Stop being so good and noble, it makes it hard to stay mad at you. I reign in my frustrations and sigh, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “I feel like the weakest link. I’m the youngest, the only woman, I don’t possess any special abilities or extensive battle experience. I put a lot of work into being competent with my daggers, and still there are days when I question my right to be here with you all. So when you jump in to protect me, well-intentioned as you may be, I feel like a child that needs looking after rather than someone capable of standing her own ground.”

His face falls, and discomfort spreads in my stomach. But before I can apologize and take back my words, he offers his hands, and I take them gratefully.

“I did not consider how my actions would make you feel, though I understand now. Forgive me, Y/n?”

At his heartfelt words, my anger ebbs away. I use my grip on his hands to pull him closer and rest my forehead against his chest. “Of course.”

He pulls back slightly to bring my hands to his lips, pressing kisses on my knuckles. “I intervened during the fight not because I think you incapable, but because I wanted to keep you as much removed from the danger as possible. You are precious to me, Y/n. I won’t risk losing you.”

At this, he leans his forehead against mine, and I can’t help how I soften at his words. I didn’t think about it like that. “There is the slightest possibility that I may have accidentally overreacted a little.”

Aragorn rewards me with a deep chuckle, one I can feel vibrating through his chest, and shakes his head against mine. “Are you sure, my love? I think ignoring me all day was a completely proportionate response.”

I roll my eyes at the dripping sarcasm in his voice and raise a hand to smack his chest. Before I can get anywhere near him, his own hand shoots out and grabs my wrist —  an act that has me grumbling in irritation and him shaking with laughter. Once he regains composure, he brings my wrist to his lips and places the softest of kisses there, watching my face carefully for my reaction.

I look away, trying to distract myself from the fluttering in my stomach. He trails a line of kisses up my forearm, and I scramble for something to say before my brain gets scattered beyond help. “For the record, you mean the world to me and I would defend you in battle too, if the need were to arise.”

His lips pause against my skin. I turn my head back to him to see that he’s, much to my annoyance, trying to fight a smile. Unable to school his smirk, he raises his head, still holding my hand in his. “I thank you, dearest, but I hardly believe that will be necessary. I’ve been battling for decades, I can handle a few stray orc.”

I step back out of his embrace, crossing my arms and regarding him with raised eyebrows.

He realizes his mistake.

“Oh—um, I meant, I—”

I shake my head. “No, you know what? Not ‘should the need arise’, I’ll just do it anyway! Next fight, you better watch out buddy, I’m throwing myself in front of anything that comes at you!”

His eyes blow open and his voice takes on a strangled quality. “Y/n, please don’t, that’s just unnecessary—”

“Nope!” I stomp away from him, picking up branches at random. “You brought this upon yourself. Get ready to be defended!”

Before walking back to camp, I turn to give him a sickeningly sweet smile. “I love you.”

Aragorn dramatically drops his head into his hands. “I shall die from stress.”

Our companions, who obviously heard our argument, roar with laughter.

A/n Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, I’d love it if you could check out my masterlist! Thank you :)

[wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse]

A Peculiar Hobbit (Pippin x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 1857

Warnings: fluff, fighting

Requested: by anon

I thought this would be a fun write, and I had a lot of freedom with this one and it was fun! Short and sweet! Might possibly do a part 2, maybe super angsty, who knows?

You walked through the stacks of books, trying to find the right one for your research. “No no no, this isn’t right!” you talked to yourself, almost kicking a stack of papers in your frustration. “They must have gotten lost. These boneheads lost valuable information, they’ll have hell to pay.” This time, you kicked another stack of books, and it fell. It slammed down onto your legs, and you cried out in pain. You fell to the ground, and moved the books off of you, rubbing the sore spot it left.

“Um, excuse me,” You heard from the darkened corner. Whoever was speaking had a peculiar accent. It sounded like a male, but a young one. “I hope I’m not interrupting something. I was sent here to find something, and well, it seems like something happened?”

You rolled your eyes, you had a bad enough day already. Now you had to deal with actual people. “Well, I am fine enough. What can I do for you?” You tried your hardest to speak in a polite manner, but it came out a bit snappy. It was odd to speak to darkness in the corners anyway. Who could blame you?

“Miss, I truly am sorry for interrupting, if you just want me to leave, I will.” The voice stuttered. 

You sighed. “I promise it is fine. Come in.” The fire was dwindling, so you threw some more kindling in, giving the stranger some time. When you turned around you saw a child looking at you. No, he had the height of a child. But he looked older. Clearly, you looked astonished, as the child thing started chuckling. 

“Oh, you have never seen a Hobbit before. For someone that spends much time in here, you haven’t seen much outside. What is your name miss?” He spoke between his laughs. His cheeks were a merry red, and his curls framed his face. 

But something about his statement rubbed you the wrong way. “Well excuse me, you know nothing about me. You don’t know whether I go outside or not, whether I spend all my time in here.” You spoke indignantly, after all, who was he to judge your lifestyle. This only caused him to laugh even more. “And for your information, I know exactly what a Hobbit is, I just have never come across one. Very well then, go find what you’re looking for. Also, my name is y/n, not that you need to know.” 

“Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He grinned and began looking around, leaving you with your mouth gaping.

As he shuffled through the books and scrolls, you looked at him curiously, at his frame, his size. As you scanned him, you noticed things that made him look less of a child. His chest was broader, and his arms were bigger. His face still had a childish innocence about it, one that hadn’t quite been taken during these dark times. His cheekbones were beginning to hollow out though, and the light in his eyes was probably not as bright as they used to be. 

He sneezed, making you jump, and you hurried over to where he was, making sure he hadn’t disturbed too much. You picked up some books, placed them on the counter, and began questioning him.  “Now tell me, what is your name?”

“Peregrin. Peregrin Took,” he stated proudly. 

I cocked an eyebrow, doubtful of that. He seemed to be too much of a jokester to have such a formal name like Peregrin. It was a nice name, no doubt, but it didn’t fit. “Peregrin hm? Are you sure?”

He looked down bashfully, but then looked up with a sly grin. “Ok fine, I go by Pippin. Now that you have seen a hobbit, your life is complete! Especially since that hobbit is me.” He winked, and you suppressed a smile, not wanting him to be egged on. “Anyways, I am the best hobbit for you to meet since I am the most handsome. I have the best smile, except maybe my friend Merry, he has a good smile. Oh also, my friend Frodo, he has good eyes.” His smile faltered for a second.

“Are you ok?” You questioned. 

He looked up from the scrolls he was reading, the happiness he previously had slowly melted away. “Aye, I am alright. I am. But I don’t know about the rest of my companions.” 

You grabbed two cushions and planted them on the floor. “Would you like to talk about it?”

He nodded and sat next to you. It became apparent how much he had lost during this time. He told you about his home, The Shire, and how he ended up on this journey. The encounters he had along the way. How they were in danger very quickly. He also told how he lost many friends, including the Captain of Gondor, Boromir. He teared up, telling the sacrifice he made to save them, even if it didn’t at first. It hurt to see such a fragile creature have the need to toughen up, to harden, to scar. He spoke of his friends leaving, how he was not sure where they might be. If they were still alive. 

Once he was finished, you spoke. “Well, that is certainly a story to tell. And there will be more chapters to your book. I sincerely hope everything goes your way, a person as young as you should not have had to go through all of this.”

He smirked, his happy demeanor slowly coming back. “How young do you think I am? I am 29, a fairly good age if I do say so myself.” 

You spluttered, surprised at that. You remember reading somewhere something about that, but you thought it was rubbish. “You must be joking. No way are you older than me!”

Pippin smiled and nodded. “Well, I hate to break it to you, no, I love to break it to you, I am 29. Not younger, not older.”

“Hmm, interesting,” You hummed, picking yourself up off the ground. “Well, we should probably find what you’re looking for.” You turned around, accidentally slamming into a huge pile of books. Something about that hobbit made you flustered and turned you into a clumsy mess. And this was not going to get better. The pile slowly teetered, and you stayed frozen, unable to move your legs. 

“Y/n, watch out!” Pippin yelled, tackling you to the ground. Just in time, the stack made an earthshattering sound when it hit the ground, sending dust everywhere. Pippin laid on top of you, his head resting on your chest. 

You coughed, and he rolled off, laying next to you instead. “Thank you,” you whispered, brushing some of the dust off of your clothes. Pippin’s curls were covered in dust, and he smiled wryly, brushing some specks off your forehead. You cleared your throat and he pulled away quickly, the slightest hint of pink warming his cheeks.

He sat up quickly, brushing the rest of the debris off of himself. “Well, this wasn’t what I expected when I decided to make my way down here, but it was better than I could have hoped for.” He helped you sit up and then planted a kiss on your cheek. “Until next time!” he joyously called, skipping back up the stairs. You touched where he kissed you, beaming. This was going to be a better day than most days.

Everything was going fine, and you kept on replaying the time you had spent with Pippin until you heard a large boom, shaking the entire city. You heard the war cry of thousands of orcs and realized very quickly that you were under attack. “Damn it! This is why I shouldn’t have holed up here!” You yelled, quickly grabbing your sword from the dustiest, dark corner. It was a gift from your father, that he had trained you to use, but you thought you would never need.

You sped up the stairs, reaching sunlight. You shielded your face, letting your eyes adjust to the brightness, before turning to the pathway. You jogged through, trying to conserve some of your energy, though it might all be in vain. Objects were being thrown at the city, tumbling buildings and humans alike. All was chaos, and it swept you into it. 

You made it to a small alcove where you could see the army that had amassed before Gondor. The army that would bring the fall. Your sword hung loosely by your side, and you saw everything flash before your eyes. Memories forgotten, brought back, people you vaguely remembered. How much you had missed out on the world, hiding out in your book-hole instead. How much you could have seen if you had taken the chance. And now it was your time to go, just like that. You shook yourself out of that stupor, and raced on, trying to get farther up. 

Soldiers were being rallied by a stranger in white cloaks, and you passed by, working your way up farther. Out of nowhere, a person turned the corner, slamming into you. You fell to the ground, your sword clattering. “I’m sorry,” you spoke hurriedly, picking up the sword and moving on.

“Well, are you really just going to run off like that?” Pippin asked in his strong accent. You turned back, your jaw dropped. You had never expected him to be part of a battle, but here he was. You didn’t have time to answer before another crowd of orcs attacked. You took down as many as you could, and heard a cry of pain from behind you. You turned to see Pippin’s sword cutting deep through an orc. He had some bruises on his face but otherwise, he was fine. You grabbed him, pulling him away from the chaos. A battle was no place for a hobbit. 

“What are you doing?” He yelled, thrashing his arms about. You grit your teeth, finally at the citadel. 

You sighed, turning to look at him. “I need you to be safe. If I know you’re out here fighting, it will only distract me.”

He crossed his arms, his face slightly pouted. All of a sudden, his eyes lit up, and a smirk grew on his face. “Fine, I’ll stay here. On one condition. Let me kiss you. Just once.” He laughed, and you looked astounded at his cockiness. 

You had nothing left to lose though, so you agreed. “Okay, I will, but I am warning you Pippin, no tongue.” He grinned, and leaned in, planting a kiss directly on your lips. He didn’t linger for too long, his chapped lips creating a little friction. He pulled away first, leaving you a little dazed. You shook yourself out of your stupor and brushed your hair out of your face. “Goodbye, Pippin. I will see you soon,” you promised, even though you knew it was unlikely. He knew it was unlikely as well, you could see it in his eyes, but he still had a little bit of hope. And even a little bit of hope goes a long way. 

[elvish-sky]

Hope {Aragorn x Reader}

A.N: So no prompts done today cause I was working on this, but I’m proud of it and will get right on prompts tomorrow! This is the completely reader-insert version! I honestly had so much fun writing it and am honored that this person wanted me to do so. I hope y’all like it!

Requested by @ask-the-elf-stuff on Tumblr

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 1,799

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, the smallest bit of angst.

****

Hope

“You’re really leaving?” You gazed into Aragorn’s eyes, hoping that it wasn’t true.

    “I have to, Y/N. The fate of Middle-Earth depends on it.”

Your head dipped in understanding, but also sadness. 

“Do not fear. I will return.” He cupped your chin with his hand, tilting your head and kissing you. It was a light kiss, nothing like the others you had shared before. This kiss was the hope that you’d see each other again.

Breaking away, you forced a smile as you hugged him, trying not to cry. Stepping back, you waved as he followed the rest of the newly formed Fellowship through the gates of Imladris. Your father stood next to you, and as Aragorn passed through the gates Elrond drew you into his side. 

“He’ll be back, hína (child),” Elrond said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you rested your head on your father’s shoulder as you watched the man depart.

Weeks later, you were pacing your room, determined to do something. Arwen stopped short in the doorway as she saw you pack open on your bed as you shoved things inside.

     “Y/N? What are you doing?”

“I do not know why, but I have felt a pull to follow. An ache, almost painful in its strength, has settled inside me and so I knew I must follow. We have not heard from the Fellowship in weeks, Aragorn could be hurt, or someone else could be, or he could be,” your voice broke, “dead.

The elf nodded in understanding. “The ache is telling you to be with the one you love.”

She then clasped your hand. “Y/N. Look at me.”

You looked at her, unshed tears of worry clear in your eyes.

“If he was dead, you’d feel it. And I know as your sister I should be telling you not to go, but I cannot help but notice the pain you’ve been in these last weeks. So go, find him.” She spread a map out onto a small table nearby, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you just carry that everywhere?”

She shot you a look, and you quickly clammed up, peering over her shoulder as she pointed things out. 

“After crossing the mountains visit our grandmother in Lothlorien, the Fellowship had planned to pass through there, and she will know where they are.” 

You took it all in, remembering the route to Lothlorien from visits to your grandparents you had made before your mother went west. 

“Thank you, Arwen.” You smiled up at your sister.

She clasped your wrist before pulling away, placing her hands on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “Stay safe, Y/N.”

You nodded, shoving the last things into your pack before slinging it over your shoulders with your bow and quiver, daggers sheathed on your thighs, hugging your sister one last time before leaving your room.

   You strode down the hallway, dressed in leather hunting clothes as you made your way to the gates of Imladris. You had stopped by the kitchens to gather food supplies, making sure they thought you were only going for a hunting excursion. 

Entering the courtyard, you saw your father standing in the center, clearly waiting for you. Silently cursing Arwen, as you had hoped to slip away unnoticed, you made your way over to him.

“I should not let you do this.”

You frowned at his words, drawing breath to protest, but before you could Elrond spoke again.

“But you are free to go. I feel the ache and have felt it every day since your mother departed. I know that nothing but being with the one you love can ease that pain, and it would hurt me to know you are experiencing it. Go to Estel. I give you my blessing.” 

You hugged your father before turning and mounting your horse, brought from the stables. Turning to wave to your father one last time, you leaned down to whisper, “Let’s go, Daeroc. Let’s go find Aragorn.” The horse broke into a trot, and you left Imladris behind.

Weeks later, you led Daeroc into Lothlorien, waiting for the sentries to appear. One dropped down from a tree, and you smiled at him, recognizing the face.

“Haldir,” you greeted him with a smile.

“Y/N. It is good to see you again. I assume you are here to see the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn?”

You nodded, “Yes. I have not seen my grandparents in a long time. But before we go to them could you find someone to take care of Daeroc?”

Another elf came into view, nodding to you as she took the reins from your hands. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at her.

Later, you walked into the courtyard, bowing to your grandparents standing on the stairs above. 

“Y/N, my daughter’s daughter. What brings you here?” Galadriel smiled at you, descending the stairs with her husband to greet you, each clasping your wrist. 

“To see you, of course, and seek news of the Fellowship that I assume has passed through here.” 

Your grandmother smiled. “It seems you are in luck, for they are here as we speak.”

Your eyes widened. “But they should have been long gone by now. I wonder what has caused the delay?”

Celeborn’s face softened. “Then you do not know.”

“Know what?” You were beginning to grow quite worried. “What has happened?”

“They could not make it through the pass of Caradhras, so they turned and went through Moria, costing them the life of Mithrandir.”

You gasped, heart aching at the grief that must have caused them and the grief you now felt. 

“May I see them?” All you wanted now was to see your friends and the man you loved.

“Of course.” Galadriel beckoned you to follow her, and you did, softly conversing with your grandmother and updating her on the lives of her family in Imladris, as well as others she knew.

Stepping into the clearing, you turned to thank Galadriel, watching her fade from view behind you for a moment before continuing. 

There he was. Tall and handsome still, even grimy with dirt and dust from his travels. You debated casually walking up and greeting him more sedately, but watching him you just couldn’t hold back. All your elvish instincts left you, and you sprinted towards him, leaping into his shocked arms as kissing him for all you were worth. He kissed you back for a moment, and then pulled away, the surprise on his face clear.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

His eyes widened. “You did?”

You smiled at him. “Of course I did, meleth.”

He smiled back at you, and drew you in for another kiss, hands holding you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. Deepening the kiss, he moved so your back was pressed against a tree and his hands were free to slide up your back, tangling in your hair as you lost yourselves in each other.

Sometime later, you sat with the rest of the Fellowship after the nighttime meal, talking. It was good to see them again, you had grown fond of all of them, even the dwarf, during their time in Imladris. But of course, the only person you really had eyes for that night was Aragorn, who sat next to you with an arm around your shoulders. 

Legolas had seemed puzzled with how comfortable you were with affection, it was rather un elf-like. You had explained to him that because of your father’s past, he was slightly more affectionate than a normal elf, and showed it. You hadn’t missed the wistful look on Legolas’ face as you spoke and recalled what you knew of his family, feeling sorry for him. 

Later that night, you sat by the dying embers of the fire alongside Legolas. Aragorn had gone with the hobbits to wash up, and Boromir and Gimli were sleeping, so it was just you and the elf.

“Legolas?” The older elf looked at you. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, and you continued, “I was just wondering, do you know of something like an ache? It began right after the Fellowship departed Imladris, and only subsided when I arrived here. What does it mean?”

He smiled. “Y/N. That was the bond between your soul and Aragorn’s, pulled taught with your fear of losing him. Now that you are reunited, it has gone because you are together. It is every elf’s greatest dream and worst fear to have that feeling.”

You smiled. “Have you?”

The pain in his eyes told you that maybe that was not something to be asked of others.

“I am not sure if it is in my destiny to ever feel that.” He gazed into the distance.

The two of you sat in easy silence for a long time, after that. 

“Y/N.” You turned to see Aragorn beckoning to you, and with a nod to Legolas, you rose.

“You do not have to come with us. It will be a journey of great peril, and I do not want to put you in that much danger.”

You gazed at him earnestly, “Aragorn. I shall be there when the crown is finally placed on your head. I shall be with you until the end.”

He smiled at you again and clasped your hand as you walked through the towering trees.

You had left Lothlorien the day after with the Fellowship, having officially joined up. Lots had happened after that, including almost dying with most of Middle-Earth, but months later, all was finally well. Frodo and Sam had destroyed the ring in Mordor, the forces of Mordor had collapsed along with the Black Gate, and today was the coronation of King Elessar, also known as Aragorn. 

You watched, standing next to Gimli on the dais, as Gandalf lowered the crown onto Aragorn’s head.

“Now come the days of the King!” Gandalf declared before Aragorn turned to face his kingdom. Everyone cheered as he stood there, silencing quickly as he spoke. His words were wise and sincere, and you couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. As petals began to fall, he started singing, the words quickly fading as he turned to you. 

You walked down to meet him at the bottom of the steps, gown trailing behind you. Once you reached him, he grabbed your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist as he dipped you into a spectacular kiss. Unlike the one you had shared in Imladris, this was not a kiss of sadness. This was a kiss of hope, peace, and promise. As the cheers rose around you again you knew that everything you had hoped for had come true.

Everything tag: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

Destiny Calling: Chapter Eight

You sat on a rock, watching over the hobbits. You had been guiding them now, walking through what Gimli accurately described as "A labyrinth of stone.". There was one slight problem with your skills though. You were so unfocused it often led you to have to stop. The hobbits didn't mind it, they were just happy to have a guide leading them in the right direction. "Gandalf!" Frodo gasped, leaning up. You looked over, Sam also leaning up. "Frodo, are you alright?" You asked, your voice gentle as you did. "Yes... It was... It was just a dream." Frodo muttered. He laid back down, falling asleep soon after. You looked at Sam who was still sitting up.

"Sam? Can you not sleep?" You asked. He shook his head, getting up and sitting next to you. "What do the stones say?" He asked. "We're taking the right path... I'm only worried of the dangers ahead." You muttered. "Do you not know a safe way?" He asked. "There is no safe way to Mordor." you admitted. He gulped and you sighed. "I did not intend to add to your anxieties, I apologize Sam." you said. "Aragorn being so far away has affected you hasn't it?" Sam asked. You nodded sadly. "Is it foolish to say I miss him?" you asked, handing Sam Lambas bread. He took it. "I miss someone at home too." He said. "Who, pray tell, captures the mesmerizing gaze of Samwise Gamgee?" you asked with a smile. He chuckled.

"Her name is Rosie... Rosie Cotton." Sam admitted. "You seem fond of Rosie." you said. "I've not voiced my feelings... But when I get back, I will." He said. "The journey has changed you, hmm?" you asked. "Yes. Very much so." Sam admitted. "I wonder what it will be like when I return home." you pondered. "Aragorn will probably marry you." Sam said. You chuckled. "He's asked me before." you admitted. "You said no?" Sam asked. "I actually said yes, my father was the one who said no." you admitted. "Does Lord Elrond not like Aragorn?" Sam asked. "No, he does. But my father's relationship with him is very strained." you explained. Sam nodded, looking at the mountains around you. You looked at Frodo who was sound asleep. "Do you think Frodo will be alright after all of this?" Sam asked. You knew the truth was probably no. You didn't want to scare Sam so you simply replied with "I don't know Sam. I don't know."

Sam eventually went back to sleep, you waking them up as the sun rose. The walking annoyed you to no end, you internally questioning yourself of how much of this you could take. Sam tied a rope to a rock, all of you climbing down into the mist. "Can you see the bottom?" Sam asked you. "No! Don’t look down, Sam! Just keep going." You answered. A box fell from Sam's bag. "Catch it. Grab it Mister Frodo!" He said. Frodo grabbed it, just as your feet touched the ground, Frodo falling. He landed in your arms. "Careful!" you gasped. "Mister Frodo!?" Sam called. "Good news Sam, we found the bottom." you said making Frodo laugh. Sam climbed down to you and Frodo. "Bogs and rope and goodness knows what. It’s not natural. None of it." Sam muttered, looking at his surroundings. "What’s in this?" Frodo asked, holding up the box. "Nothing. Just a bit of seasoning. I thought maybe if we was having a roast chicken one night or something." Sam replied. "Roast chicken?!" You and Frodo asked in unison. "You never know." Sam shrugged making you chuckle. "Sam, my dear Sam." Frodo laughed. "It’s very special, that. It’s the best salt in all the Shire." Sam said in a "matter of fact" tone. "It is special. It’s a little bit of home." Frodo said with a smile.

You looked at Sam's rope. "We can’t leave this here for someone to follow us down." You said. "Who’s gonna follow us down here? It’s a shame really. Lady Galadriel gave me that. Real Elvish rope. Well there’s nothing for it. It’s one of my knots. Won’t come free in a hurry." Sam sighed. He yanked on the rope, it loosening and hitting the ground. "Real Elvish rope." Frodo snorted. You tried your best not to laugh but you couldn't resist. After all of you recovered from the rope incident you walked ahead, Frodo and Sam on each of your sides.

"So, what is the Shire like?" You asked. Sam perked up. "Oh it's much larger than most people think!" Sam said. "You've never been?" Frodo asked curiously. "No, me and Aragorn never saw reason to go." You admitted. "Well, Sam is not wrong, it is really big compared to what most people believe it to be." Frodo agreed. "But it's beautiful! Flowers everywhere!" Sam said. "You say that because you're the gardener." Frodo chuckled. "And a darn good one too!" Sam said proudly. "Is it true you live out of holes?" You asked. "More like we live in the sides of hills." Frodo corrected. "Can I ask you somethin' Miss Y/n?" Sam asked. "Of course Sam." You answered. "What is the other elven city like?" Sam asked. You sucked in a breath.

"Sorry-" "No Sam, it is quite alright." You assured. "it is quite large and the other elves are very pleasant... Unless you're not elven, in which case they tend to be quite hostile." You stated. "My uncle said it was beautiful..." Frodo said. "Oh it is. It is almost like it is autumn all year round though and unless you're gifted with the ability to speak with nature it is far to easy to get lost in the nearby woods." You explained. "Yes, Bilbo mentioned that." Sam nodded. "He's been?" you asked. "Oh yes. Though according to him, he was imprisoned there." Frodo said. "...And escaped? How pray, tell did he manage to do that?" you asked surprised. "Barrels." Sam and Frodo said in unison. "Barrels?" You asked. "He smuggled himself and the dwarves in barrels." Frodo said. "Dwarves- what in the world did your uncle do- Why was he out there to begin with?" You asked. "Uhhh... That's complicated." Frodo said. "eh?" You made a confused noise.

You all walked until nightfall, you looking at the stars. You wondered if Aragorn was safe, wherever he was. Your heart was practically aching, you missed him so much. You sighed, bringing your knees to your face as you sighed, poking the dirt with your fingers while the hobbits slept. The next morning finally came, you all walking through the sharp and dangerous rocks of Emyn Muil. You looked forward. "Mordor..." You muttered, seeing the dark lands. "The one place in Middle-Earth we don’t want to see any closer is the one place we’re trying to get to." Sam said with a sigh. "Do you think Gandalf meant for us to take this way?" Sam asked. "He didn’t mean for a lot of things to happen, Sam. But they did." Frodo muttered. "We cannot lose hope now you two. We must press on." You said to them. Frodo seemed to lock onto something in Mordor, collapsing to the ground. "Frodo?" You asked, kneeling to him. "Mister Frodo? It’s the ring, isn’t it?" Sam asked. "It’s getting heavier." He nodded. He clutched the ring, his breaths slowly relaxing. "What food have we got left?" Frodo asked. "Well, let me see." Sam said, going through his bag. "Oh, yes. Lovely. Lembas bread. And look! More lembas bread." He said, pulling out the bread wrapped in large leaves. He broke off a piece of it and threw it to him and threw another piece to you.

You bit into bread. "Say what you will about my grandmother but she has the best bread." you said, earning laughs from the two hobbits. "I don’t usually hold with foreign food, but this Elvish stuff, it’s not bad." Sam said. "Nothing ever dampens your spirits, does it, Sam?" Frodo asked, smiling. "Those rain clouds might." Sam said with a sigh.

You all walked, following a very odd, yet specific path before you stopped. "What in the world is that smell?" Sam asked. You felt like you were being watched and you remembered one other time you felt like this. "Let's... Keep walking." you muttered. It wasn't long that night came, Sam and Frodo both sleeping soundly. You sat on a rock, sharpening your blade.

Gollum.

You looked up, pretending to be oblivious to the creature climbing down the rocks as he spoke to himself. "They’re thieves. They’re thieves. The filthy little thieves. Where is it? Where is it? They stole it from us. My Precious. Curse them, we hates them! It’s ours it is, and we wants it." Gollum said, climbing down the rocks. Then he reached for Frodo and was met with a blade. "Lay a single finger on him and I will cut it off." you hissed. Frodo shot up, Sam and him scooching back.

As cruel as it may have seemed, you put the elven rope to use, tying it around the creature's neck due to Frodo's insistence that you leave Gollum alive. You walked, Gollum yelling and crying. "It burns! It burns us! It freezes!" You sighed at this yelling. "Oh by the Valor do you ever SHUT UP!?" You snapped. Gollum stopped walking, Sam yanking on the rope and making Gollum fall. "Nasty Elves twisted it!" Gollum spat, looking at you. He turned to Frodo and Sam. "Take it off us!" Gollum begged. "Quiet you!" Sam hushed. Gollum let out another yell. "It’s hopeless! Every orc in Mordor’s gonna hear this racket. Let’s just tie him up and leave him." Sam suggested. "I think Sam is correct, this is extremely annoying and my sanity is deteriorating very quickly." You said. "No! That would kill us! Kill us!" Gollum wailed. "It’s no more than you deserve!" Sam snapped.

Gollum rolled around, squirming to get the rope off. "Maybe he does deserve to die. But now that I see him, I do pity him." Frodo admitted. Gollum hushed at the sound of this, looking at Frodo on his knees. "We be nice to them, if they be nice to us. Take it off us! We swears to do what you wants. We swears!" Gollum pleaded. "There is no promise you can make that I can trust." Frodo said. "We swears to serve the master of the Precious. We will swear on…on the Precious!" Gollum said before hacking out a noise similar to his name. "The ring is treacherous. It will hold you to your word." Frodo said. "Yes on the Precious. On the Precious." Gollum said, inching closer to Frodo. "I don’t believe you!" Sam yelled, forcing Gollum back. Gollum attempted to run away, Sam yanking back on the rope and pulling Gollum back. "Get down! I said, down!" Sam shouted at Gollum. You sighed. "Sam!" Frodo yelled. "He’s trying to trick us! If we let him go, he’ll throttle us in our sleep!" Sam said. Gollum coughed, grabbing at his throat.

You stumbled, Sam looking over his shoulder as you dropped.

Visions bombarded you, war being the subject of the vision. It was Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn, fighting a battle. A banner soon filled your mind, one of a horse... Then you suddenly returned to your normal state, Frodo standing next to you. "War." you whispered. "What?" Frodo asked. "War is brewing in Rohan..." you muttered. Sam turned. "Do you wish to turn back-" "No... I-I promised you I'd help see this through." you muttered. Frodo looked over at Gollum. "Maybe he can lead us through the Marshes. You made a comment saying it was dangerous." Frodo recalled. "Frodo... I do not trust him." you admitted. Still, Frodo was right, even if you were being guided by nature itself you didn't have confidence in the marshes. "You know the way to Mordor?" Frodo asked. "Yes." Gollum responded. " You’ve been there before?" Frodo asked. "Yes." Gollum repeated, this time more anxious. Frodo removed the rope and you sighed, closing your eyes. Sam shook his head with a frown. "You will lead us through the Marshes, and anywhere else we may need guidance." Frodo said. Gollum nodded.

He was weirdly quick, rushing across the rocks as you all tried to keep up. He rushed off, taking a moment to talk to himself. "To the gate, to the gate! To the gate, the master says. Yes!" He muttered. Another version of himself seemed to take over. "No! We won’t go back Not there. Not to him. They can’t make us." He said, hacking out his name again. "But we swore to serve the master of the precious." He said, feeling guilty. "No! Ashes and dust and thirst there is and pits, pits, pits. And Orcses, thousands of Orcses. And always the Great Eye watching. Watching." He said. He turned to the group that was distant before screaming and running off. You all followed, running after him. "Hey! Come back now! Come back! There! What did I tell you? He’s run off, the old villain. So much for his promises." Sam sighed. Gollum popped up behind a stone making you gasp in surprise. "This way. Follow me!" Gollum said. You and Sam exchanged a look, sighing before following the creature.

You ended up taking a break. "Why we stop?" Gollum asked, looking at you who was sitting upright against a rock with your eyes closed. "Y/n watches over us at night, she needs rest." Sam sighed. Your face was so peaceful when you rested. If only Aragorn was here, you'd probably be sleeping better. Your heart missed him terribly, every time you closed your eyes you could see him. "I think she misses him." Sam muttered looking at your sitting figure. "Elfie misses someone?" Gollum asked. "A friend..." Sam sighed. "She misses friend?" Gollum asked. "Yes." Frodo muttered. Frodo too, thought of Aragorn. He always felt some sort of levity when looking at you and Aragorn together. You two were the sliver of light in a very dark time. Truth be told, you didn't need rest. You wanted to see if there was another vision. Another hopeful message or outcome. Instead you were met with darkness and silence.

It took about thirty minutes before you sat up. Sam looked over. "Let's go." you muttered, clearly deep in thought. You followed Gollum through the mountains before finally seeing the Marshlands. "See! See! We’ve led you out. Hurry, Hobbitses, hurry! Very lucky we find you." Gollum said. Sam passed him. "Nice hobbit." Gollum said to Sam. Sam walked alongside you, accidently slipping his foot into the water. "Ooh! It’s a bog. He’s led us into a swamp!" Sam gasped. "Swamp. Yes, yes. Come master, we will take you on safe paths through the mist. Come hobbits come. Real quickly. I found it, I did. The way through the marshes. Orcs don’t use it, orcs don’t know it. They go round for miles and miles, come quickly, swift and quick as shadows we must be." Gollum said.

You walked for a while in silence, trying to listen to nature to be met with silence. This unsettled you to no end. Nature was always talkative. Never this silent. "I hate this place, it’s too quiet. There‘s been no sight nor sound of a bird for two days." Sam muttered. "No, no birdses to eat, no crunchable birdses. We are famished, yes! Famished we are, precious!" Gollum said before picking a worm up out out of the ground. He ate it making you gag. "Here." Frodo said, tossing him a piece of Lambas bread. He took it confused. "What does it eats? Is it tasty?" He asked. He at it before choking and spitting it out, making you all jump. "It tries to chokes us! We can’t eats Hobbit food! We must starve!" Gollum wailed. "Well, starve, then. And good riddance!" Sam huffed. You had put it together earlier why Frodo was so lenient to Gollum. He was terrified the ring was going to turn him into Gollum.

"Oh, cruel hobbit! It does not care if we be hungry. Does not care if we should die!" He cried as you went through your bag. You pulled out a jerky like food. You knew Aragorn had a tendency of leaving somethings in your bag and this was definitely his. "Not like Master. Master cares. Master knows. Yes, precious. Once it takes hold of us, it never lets go." Gollum said. He reached for the ring but you stopped him, handing him the food. "It's meat. Not something any of us eat, maybe you'll like it." You said. He looked at it, taking a small piece and eating it. He seemed to actually like it and you handed him the rest. "Elfies gives us good food. We thinks the elfies is good." He said. You sighed and stood up, pulling your backpack back onto you.

You all made your way through the swamp, Sam looking into the waters around you. "There are dead things, dead faces in the water." Sam said. You looked in the waters too, seeing the armor. "Elves... There are... Elves out here." you breathed. "All dead. All rotten. Elves and men and orcses. A great battle long ago. The dead marshes. Yes, yes that is their name. This way. Don’t follow the lights." Gollum warned. Sam slipped, nearly falling into a hole before you gripped his cloak, pulling him up. "Thank you." He breathed. "Careful now, or hobbits go down to join the dead ones and light little candles of their own." Gollum said, unsettling you. Frodo wandered off, looking into the waters. He saw an elven corpse. He leaned forward, falling into the water. You gasped, sprinting over and yanking him out of the water. Gollum stood next to you. "Gollum?" Frodo asked. "Don’t follow the lights." Gollum repeated, this time more sternly. "Gollum." Frodo called. "Mister Frodo, are you all right?" Sam asked. He nodded slowly.

Night soon came, you sitting against a rock with your eyes closed. You didn't actually fall asleep, despite feeling strangely tired you were very alert with Gollum near. "So bright. So beautiful. Our Precious." Gollum said, making you open one eye. Frodo leaned up. "What did you say?" Frodo asked. "Master should be resting. Master needs to keep up his strength." Gollum muttered. "Who are you?" Frodo asked him. "Mustn’t ask us, not it’s business." Gollum said before hacking again. "Gandalf told me you were one of the river folk." Frodo said. "Cold be heart and hand and bone, cold be travelers far from home." Gollum sang in what you assumed to be an attempt to block Frodo out. "He said your life was a sad story." Frodo said. "They do not see what lies ahead, when sun has failed and moon is dead." Gollum sang. "You were not so very different from a hobbit once. Were you? Sméagol." Frodo asked, earning silence from Gollum. "What did you call me?" Gollum asked. "That was your name once, wasn’t it? A long time ago." Frodo asked. "My name? My name? Ss… Ss… Sméagol." He asked, genuinely not recalling his own name.

The smell of blood filled your nose and you felt the dread. You leaned up, opening your eyes. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, groggily before the loud scream from a Nazgûl. "Black Riders." You muttered. "Hide! Hide!" Gollum yelled. Frodo let out a yelp, grasping where he was struck with the Nazgûl blade.

You hid under a bush with Sam and Gollum. You motioned for Frodo to run. "Come on Frodo, come on!" Sam called. "Hurry, they will see us, they will see us." Gollum said panicked. "I thought they were dead." Sam said to you as Frodo laid next to you. "You cannot kill a ringwraith." You whispered. You watched the wraith fly overhead, your heart pounding. "Ah! Wraiths, wraiths on wings!" Gollum yelped. You noticed Frodo reach for the ring. "They are calling for it, they are calling for the Precious." Gollum said. You stopped Frodo from putting the ring on. "We're still here Frodo... it's alright." You whispered. the Nazgul flew away. "Hurry hobbits, the Black Gate is very close." Gollum said after you all climbed out from under the bush.

You all walked, following Gollum before you fell again, this time being sent into a shock. You were practically blinded, a white light filling your eyes. You heard a voice, barely audible at first. Distant. Very distant. "Y/n" It called. You knew the person's voice you just couldn't remember. "Y/n." The voice repeated. "Rohan is in danger. This is the start of many wars, people need you. Turn back now." it said. "I can't." You whispered. "You can. Reach the river on your own. A boat is waiting. If you run without stopping you can make it before the orcs do." The voice said. Then you realized who it was.

"Gandalf, how are you speaking to me?" you asked. "I am not yet dead my girl." He said, his face coming to light. You breathed. "You want me to go to Rohan, why?" You asked. "Because the further into Mordor you go, the more corruption kills." He said. "The corruption is killing you. Why do you think you feel exhaustion?" Gandalf asked. A good question. "Aragorn needs you. Rohan needs you. We need you." Gandalf said before your vision returned to normal, Sam hanging over you.

"Are you alright? You just fell back! I was worried." Sam said. "Gandalf is still alive." You said. Frodo turned around. "What!?" He asked. "He's alive... War is coming to Rohan and... Something bad is happening, I can feel it." You breathed. You wondered if you should turn back. "Go." Frodo said. You looked up. "What?" You asked. "If there is war in Rohan and Gandalf is alive, it's most likely that Aragorn will be in the center of all of this. You deserve to be with him through all of this. Go." Frodo said. "But-" "Y/n, he's right. You should go, you've looked more exhausted here than anywhere else... This is destroying you. You don't think we can tell but we can." Sam admitted. You sighed. "Any messages you want me to send to them?" You asked. "Yes. Good luck." Frodo said. You nodded. "Elfie remembers the way?" Gollum asked. "I do. Thank you." you nodded to Gollum before tossing him the rest of the meat. He took it before you hugged both Sam and Frodo. "If you two weren't so damn stubborn, I would've marched into Mordor with you." you said. "We know." Sam said before hugging you again. "Don't let us down Frodo. Fight strong. Keep your hope." you said softly. He nodded before you turned around, looking at the area you just came from.

"Alright." You told yourself. "Here we go again."

[mordoriscalling]

A Bench (and A Bunch) of Confessions

My first dialogue-only story. A meet-cute modern AU Bagginshield, hope you like it :3 You can also read this fic on AO3.

“Fíli! Remember not to push Kíli on the swing too hard!”

“I know!”

“Frodo, be careful on the slide!”

“Yes, uncle!”

...

“Good morning.”

“Hello.”

“I’m sorry to bother you but... your sons seem to have made friends with my nephew.”

“They’re my nephews.”

“Oh, forgive me, they look like they’re yours.”

“I get that a lot.”

“You’re not offended, I hope?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Good, good. Should we sit? There aren’t many free benches left.”

“Good idea.”

“Maybe that one?”

“Yeah.”

....

“I heard you call your nephew Frodo. Interesting name.”

“Well, thank you, I suppose. My family has a history of... interesting names. I’m Bilbo.”

“I’m Thorin.”

“Nice to meet you, Thorin.”

“You too, Bilbo.”

“Your nephews are Fíli and Kíli if I heard that correctly?”

“Yes. Fíli is the older one, with blond hair. Kíli is the little dark-haired terror.”

“How old are they?”

“Fíli is seven, Kíli is four.”

“Little terrors indeed.”

“How old is Frodo?”

“He’s six. Not that much of a little terror but still mischievous.”

....

“By the way, Fíli and Kíi are lovely names, I think.”

“Their father’s name was Víli, the boy’s names are derived from his. Family tradition.”

“His name... was?”

“Yes... car crash.”

“O-oh goodness, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. It was a few years ago, my sister and the boys are better now.”

“They’re your sister’s sons, then?”

“Yes. She’s a single mum but I try to help her as much as I can.”

“How lovely of you, Thorin.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Hah, I don’t think so, but let’s leave it at that.”

...

“What about you, Bilbo?”

“What about me?”

“You’re helping a sibling too?”

“Oh, no, actually. Frodo is the son of my cousins, Primula and Drogo but... they’re gone.”

“My condolences.”

“Thank you.”

“He calls you uncle, though.”

“It’s easier this way.”

....

“Uncle Bilbo, uncle Bilbo!”

“What is it, my dear boy?”

“I’m hungry!”

“Well then, let’s go home. Say goodbye to your friends.”

“Bye Fili! Bye Kili!”

“Bye Frodo!”

“Bye Frodo!”

“Goodbye, Thorin. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too, Bilbo. I will see you around?”

“I should hope so, yes. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

***

“Good morning, Thorin.”

“Hello, Bilbo.”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Sure.”

“Go play with Fíli and Kíli, Frodo.”

“Yayyy!”

“He seems excited.”

“If only you knew, Thorin. He refused to stop talking about Fíli and Kíli for the past week. He dragged me here every day because he wanted to see them again but you weren’t here. We slowly were losing hope.”

“Fíli and Kíli talked about Frodo a lot too but I couldn’t take them here. Work was busy.”

“Oh? What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“I run a jeweller store, we sell the jewellery we make. I had three commissions for engagement rings only this past week. The clients had vague ideas about how they’d like them to look, so we spent a lot of time on each project. At least I started making the first one.”

“That sounds fascinating.”

“Just the family business I took over.”

“I think you’re far too humble, Thorin.”

“Indeed?”

“Well, that’s what I think about you.”

“You barely know me, Bilbo.”

“We could... we could change that, i-if... if you’d like?”

“Okay.”

“What? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I said, okay. I’d like that.”

“Oh. That’s wonderful.”

...

“So, Bilbo, what do you do?”

“Nothing as exciting as making jewellery, I’m afraid. I’m a literary translation professor at Rivendell University. Oh, and a landlord. That takes much more work than you’d think.”

“A professor? That’s something.”

“Why, thank you.”

“You look young for a professor.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Are you –”

“Uncle Thoriiiiiiin!”

“What is it, Kíli?”

“I want to pee.”

“Okay. Fíli, come, we’re going home! Kíli, have you said goodbye to Frodo?”

“Goodbye, Frodo!”

“Good. There you are, Fíli. You’ve said goodbye to Frodo, have you? Good lad. Come on, you two.”

“Thorin?”

“Yes?”

“Same time next week?”

“Sounds good. Have a good day, Bilbo.”

“You too, Thorin.”

***

“Is this seat taken?”

“Oh, hello, Thorin!”

“Hello.”

“Please sit down. Frodo is already waiting for you on the playground, boys.”

“Woohoo!”

“Goodness, Thorin, look at that. They really like each other, don’t they?”

“Yeah. I think we should exchange numbers.”

“Oh?”

“We could arrange a play date some time. The boys do like Frodo.”

“That’s a lovely idea. Could you give me your phone, please? I’ll add my numbers to your contacts.”

“Sure.”

“Now add your number to mine.”

“There you go.”

“Wait. Thorin Durin? The Durin?”

“No other Durins in Eriador.”

“Wow. You mentioned a jewellery business but I’d have never thought you meant the biggest jewellery company in the area.”

“Now you know.”

“Indeed.”

“Does it intimidate you?”

“Not particularly, no. I think you should learn that it takes much more to intimidate me, Thorin.”

“Good.”

...

“Bilbo Baggins?”

“That’s me.”

“I recall a famous travel writer whose name was Belladonna Baggins.”

“That would be my mum. Goodness, I can tell you all about her. Actually, are you free this weekend? Because I am, so I thought –”

“Me and Dís are taking the boys on a hiking trip.”

“Oh, all right–”

“You and Frodo can come. I’m sure Dís won’t mind.”

“If you say so.”

“She wants to meet you anyway.”

“Does she?”

“The boys talk about mister Boggins a lot. She’s curious.”

“Mister Boggins? Oh goodness me.”

“Yeah – Bilbo. Your laugh’s beautiful.”

“O-oh, um. Thank you... Well, but look at the time! It’s getting late. Frodo! Time to go!”

“But uncle!”

“No buts, my dear boy! We’ll be late.”

“But!”

“You’ll see Fíli and Kíli on the weekend.”

“I will?”

“He will, Mister Boggins?

“Yes, Fíli, me and Thorin are taking you three on a trip!”

“YAYYY!”

“YAYYY!”

“YAYYY!”

“My ears.”

“Indeed, Thorin, indeed. Well, then. See you soon?”

“See you soon, Bilbo.”

***

“Thorin!”

“Bilbo.”

“Long time no see!”

“We saw each other three days ago.”

“It’s called a joke, Thorin.”

“You didn’t make it clear.” 

“Oh, hush. Our bench is free, let’s go.”

“Fíli, Kíli, don’t get Frodo into trouble!”

“They won’t listen to you if they don’t want to.”

“Thank you, Bilbo.”

“Glad to be of service.”

....

“Saturday was fun.”

“It was. Dís likes you.”

“Really? Here I thought she only tolerated me.”

“She just likes being scary. She’s a hell of a woman.”

“Oh, yes. She reminds me of my dear Primula. It’s a shame they could've never met.”

“Yeah.”

...

“Dís’s scariness reminds me of her brother.”

“I don’t like being scary.”

“True, you just are.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it. I’m sure there’re many who would definitely consider your scary looks appealing. I definitely do see the appeal.”

“Bilbo, what–”

“Do you want a cupcake?”

“A what?”

“I’ve brought cupcakes. My dad’s secret recipe. Here. Help yourself, please.”

“It’s... it’s really good, Bilbo.”

“Thank you. I’m a good cook, if I do say so myself. I love cooking and baking. I like food in general, I... well. I think it shows.”

“I like it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I like it. I like the way you look.”

“That’s... really nice of you to say, Thorin, but –”

“Bilbo.”

“Yes?”

“We could cook something together.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t cook often, I don’t have time for it. You could teach me, though.”

“Teach you?”

“We could meet at my place. We would cook together, then have dinner, talk or watch something –”

“But Frodo... I don’t have anyone to babysit him.”

“Dís said she could.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She said that I’m an idiot because... Bilbo, listen. I’ve been smiling for the past few weeks more than I had been for the past years of my life. Your text brighten my day and–”

“Thorin–”

“I want to date you, Bilbo.”

“Oh.”

“I understand if you don’t want that–”

“Thorin, you silly man. There’s nothing I want more.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.

....

“Thorin, your smile is breathtaking.”

“Look who’s talking–”

“UNCLE BILBO!”

“UNCLE THORIN!”

“Goodness, Frodo!”

“Kíli! What happened?”

“Fíli jumped from the swing and he fell and...”

“Let me look... It’s just a scraped knee.”

“But he’s crying, mister Thorin!”

“It’s because it hurts, Frodo.”

“Oh.”

“I think we should all go home.”

“Good idea, Bilbo. Let’s go, boys.”

“Come on, Frodo.”

“Bilbo?”

“Yes, Thorin?”

“I’ll see you at the weekend?”

“Of course.”

***

“Bilbo.”

“Good morning, Thorin.”

“Now it is.”

“Goodness, Thorin my dear, just sit down and don’t say such things.”

“You didn’t mind it two days ago.”

“Sunday was different.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes.”

“Thorin.”

“What is it, Bilbo?”

“Don’t look at me like that. Just kiss me, damn you.”

...

“YUCK, UNCLE!”

“EW, MISTER BILBO!”

“Hey, Fí, Kí, you know what? We can do whatever we want while uncle Bilbo and misterThorin are being gross!”

“Yes!”

“YES!”

[lilacandladybugs]

hi there!!! in your desc you say that your down to talk about your relationship w God, so could you please share some of your thoughts/experiences?? no need to answer if you don't feel like it, i'm just curious. have a nice day! <33

hey anon thanks so much i love asks like this and i just am very excited about it :D also sorry for the delayed response i was thinking about what to say because i think its important, saved my initial response to drafts, and then didn’t come back to it. I don’t know what i was thinking my drafts are not a safe place . they are where posts go to die. anyway—

i guess some people , think of god as a person. like he's some man who's gigantic in the sky somewhere who made humanity and then left us behind. and i think to me ive come to understand that God isn't like a person really. he is what was when there was nothing, and he is what will be after everything. in the Bible, the voice of God is so powerful that when he spoke, all of matter, light, momentum come into existence.

so when i talk about hearing God I don't feel like he's limited to vocally speaking to me. Since God is literally love, like the word love is used to describe things in relation to God. Like things are loving because they look like God. Things are beautiful, good, kind, wise, because they’re like God. 

until i realized this about him i didn’t think i had very many experiences with God. I remember saying that if God were just going to write us a letter (the Bible) and then cut off all contact, it didn’t matter how good of a father he claimed to be that’s a terrible thing to do to anyone. 

But he’s not like that. Eventually I figured that out, God is what was when there was nothing. If he spoke creation into existence, then the world around us is like the sound of his voice. So he isn’t limited to communicating by “speaking,” he can talk to us in so many ways.

I think the first time I noticed him was when three of my family members* died in a crash and a friend of mine was very depressed, and i went to a speech and debate tournament. and the lady who was working lunch was the first person to really look at me and i knew when she looked at me that she could /see/ me. she knew what was going on. her name was mrs. smith. I love Mrs. Smith so much, and she loved God so much. She loved people so much and so well, there wasn’t anyone else who could have done what she did she could pick out people who were struggling, and she could reach into their lives and draw the out and be the hands of God to them. Something bad happened while I was there and she like held me while I cried. I think that since then I’ve really been able to appreciate her, I see that as God’s placement of her in my life. There are not people like Mrs. Smith out there very often that I’ve been able to find. She had seen God too, and she knew what needed to be done and said to love people. She looked like God.

One thing Mrs. Smith told me was when I had a call with her because I was doing real bad and I told her I just wanted to be happy again. And she said, “why do you think kids are happy?” and I said, “They don’t know they dont have things to be sad about.” And she said, “yes but more specifically? What makes kids happy?”

And so I thought about it and I said, “Well like my little sister is happy about bubbles.”

And she said, “You still have bubbles, don’t you?” 

That’s not like a cure for depression or anything. But her point was that there are things everywhere that we can smile about. Like even when it feels like there’s nothing at all, there is always at least one thing that exists that you can find a second to just smile at.

That idea also helped me to see God. When I went to church my pastor talked about all the ways that God created Earth for us to enjoy, how the sunrise and sunset has been going on continuously around the world for it’s whole existence, how it has been an ongoing promise of God’s presence since the beginning.

I just started to notice him ig. Like in Mrs. Smith, in my friends who were the only people who could have talked to me about certain things, happy coincidences, and small promises and small hellos from God over and over in a thousand different ways.

K but. . That didn’t stop me from being really depressed right? I remember over the summer I realized that my just all surrounding pressing anger was at God, and that I felt like he had abandoned me. I was just like seething in anger like how he FUCk could he have left me alone to watch my friends die like that? Like I was in so much pain? @/God wtf? You know? I was telling a friend about this one night and I like intellectually I was so convinced God existed so I was really struggling with reconciling these two ideas, God is real and also he /feels/ like he isn’t. He feels so absent and he feels like he doesn’t care.

The next morning I went to Church, and the guy talking (he was a guest speaker) was talking about grief. The topic was so upsetting that I left the room to go and like cry and I texted my friend, “hey this is really upsetting, i genuinely dont know if i can do this.” (it was making me feel panicky) and my friend said, “you’re really going to tell me that last night you were saying that you aren’t sure if God cares about your grief, and then God SHOWS UP puts an answer in front of you on a fucking silver platter, and you aren’t even going to LISTEN?”

and i was like oh well when you put it like that lmao—

I just felt the presence of God when he was talking idek how to explain it. He used the lord of the rings as an analogy and I cried because I had been using lotr as a way of explaining my experiences to people as well. And he said that God loves us, and that we are promised that we will live together in heaven, and that he will say well done my good and faithful servant. because I guess okay, sin, death and suffering are all as a result of what Christians call “the Fall” which is basically humanity walking away from God. When that happened, death entered the world, because when we separate ourselves from the giver of life we die. But God refused for that to be the end of the story, sacrificing himself in our place, dying, and then three days later rising again. So the point is that we already have assurance that we’re going to be with God again one day as believers. And so even as we grieve we have this assurance that God has already conquered, and while we’re suffering we know what the end of the story is going to be already. When we allow God to be in the center of our life, we enter into that promise. We already know that we’re going to be like Sam and Frodo, when Aragorn comes down to them and says, “You bow to no one.” God will say, “Well done my good and faithful servant.”

And I know that I’m doing a bad job of explaining it but the sermon wasn’t for my mind. My mind was convinced. It was somehow for something way harder to do, it was for my heart, and it did that. I felt at peace.

I’ve said before (x) (x) that I felt like when I experienced God, it was like I was lying outside in a gutter beat up staring up at the stars. But it’s also like going on a walk through a meadow and looking at flowers, and laughing with your friends, and sitting in the summer night listening to cicadas. God is there, in the whisper. He loves you.

[anghraine]

For some reason, I woke up thinking about the f!Aragorn verse I came up with years ago.

The idea is that all the Númenórean throwbacks in LOTR are genderbent, so it’s also f!Denethor (Steward Andreth), f!Faramir (Lady Míriel), and f!Imrahil (Lady Imraphel). I never wrote much of it, and I don’t care for everything I did write, but I'm still fond of two pieces: 1) a prompted fic in which Aranor (f!Aragorn) has a nightmare of herself as Queen, and 2) Aranor finding Boromir’s body.

So here they are!

1.

Aranor drummed her fingers on the arms of her throne, the rings on her hands glinting in the brightly-lit hall, bracelets jangling a little. Even that small gesture was enough to make Arwen, standing behind and to the left of her, stiffen with fear. The other nobles in the court shifted uneasily, but for Boromir and a woman who looked very much like him; both of them gazed at Aranor with pride and admiration.

Andreth herself stepped forward to stare down at the four men kneeling before the throne.

“Tar-Elessarnë will hear you,” she said, then retreated back to Aranor’s right hand, malice curling her mouth.

They were tradesmen from Esgaroth, stammering that they were no spies of Sauron, and only wished to offer treasures from the Lonely Mountain to the great Queen. Aranor turned the dwarvish trinkets over in her hands.

“We well know of the Dwarves’ craft,” she said coldly, and held up a bright stone. “What is this? Not armour or weaponry. A bauble for a child. Do your masters take us for one? Do they think we shall be placated with such treasures?”

“No, of course—we only—” said the leader.

One of the men lifted terrified eyes to her face. Another crawled back; the last and youngest sprang up and ran towards the doors.

Boromir and Míriel laughed outright, soon joined by the rest of the court.

“Send them all to be questioned,” said Aranor indifferently, while the guards seized the young merchant. “Then put them to death.”

She tossed the baubles at Arwen.

“They should be sufficient to amuse you.”

The Ring gleamed bright on her hand.

Aranor woke slowly, the starry sky blurred above her. Frodo, who had kept the last watch, was bending down to shake her awake. The Ring on its chain swung right past her eyes.

She jerked away.

Frodo, looking hurt, said, “It’s your turn, Strider—”

“Forgive me! You woke me out of a nightmare.”

“Oh! I hope it wasn’t too bad?”

Aranor swallowed. It was everything she wanted, reflected in a broken glass.

Not like that, she thought. Never like that.

2.

It was months before Aranor and Boromir spoke privately again, once more beneath the trees. This time, they did not sit peacefully in the light of fair Lothlórien. Boromir now lay sprawled not far from Nen Hithoel, propped up against a massive tree. Aranor, after one glance, raced across the glade, crying,

“Boromir! Boromir!”

She fell to her knees beside him. He lay in a dappled pool of sunlight, and she had seen everything the moment she laid eyes on him: the black arrows piercing his chest, his sword broken in his hand, the great Horn of Vorondil cloven right in half.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. She knew already that not all the healing in her hands could save him; Elrond, greatest of their kind, could not have done it.

“I … tried to take the Ring from Frodo,” he said, his voice weak and faltering: not Boromir at all. But the Boromir she knew would never have threatened Frodo. Aranor swallowed her shock and horror, and was always grateful that she had done so, for he went on, “I am sorry. I have paid.“

His gaze drifted to the two dozen orcs lying at his feet.

"They have gone. The halflings. The orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them.”

His eyes drifted shut, and her last command sprang into Aranor’s mind. Whatever else had happened this day, Boromir had died a faithful soldier, following orders: her orders. It was now her duty to comfort him as she could, but all words stuck in her throat.

He managed to lift his eyelids once more. “Farewell, Aranor.” Anguish twisted his face, and his grey eyes looked directly into hers. “Go … to Minas Tirith … and save my people. I have failed.”

“No!” Aranor seized his hand and leaned down to kiss him. “You have conquered! Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall.”

Her words rang out with all the power of an oath. So be it. She owed that much to Boromir, the greatest warrior of Gondor, dying in her service and Gondor’s. Had any other fallen to the Ring and returned? It was, indeed, a great victory. He had reclaimed himself.

He smiled up at her.

“Which way did they go? Where is Frodo?” she asked. But he said nothing more: he was dead.

No longer distracted by soothing Boromir’s last moments, Aranor cried out in grief and despair. She should have seen this coming. She could have sent Legolas or Gimli with him, or gone herself; mighty a warrior as he was, how could she have done this? Why indeed had Gandalf trusted that she could? She could not have betrayed his trust more utterly. It is I who have failed!

And now Boromir was dead, her comrade and—yes—her friend. She had not known it.

Boromir’s hand lay still warm in hers. Aranor began to cry, painful wracking sobs that tore out of her throat, drawing the strength out of her until she was bent with weeping. It was there that Legolas and Gimli found her, and from her anguish thought that she must have taken a fatal wound.

Aranor just managed to regain some semblance of self-command: enough to explain some part of what had really happened. She kept Boromir’s confession to herself. He had repented; none else need know what he had done before.

Together they raided the bodies of the fallen orcs, to lay their weapons at Boromir’s feet. There was no time to bury him properly—much less as he would have been consigned in Rath Dínen—but they could send him home in honour and glory. As quickly as they could, they carried Boromir to the shore, labouring under his weight, and lifted him into the only spare boat remaining. Aranor combed his long dark hair while Legolas folded his hood and cloak under his head, for a pillow. Gimli, stern and reverent, placed the orcs’ weapons at his feet, and Boromir’s own across his lap. Then they cut his boat free, watching it float down, disappearing into the falls.

It was Aranor and Legolas who sang for him, her voice soaring high into the desolate air.

“Oh, Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze—” She remembered all of Boromir’s kin, Andreth’s fierce face softening as she swung her son up into the air, Gwindor kneeling beside him, teaching him to read, Prince Túrin and Lady Imraphel leading him by the hand, showing him paper boats. She remembered him tugging at her leggings, demanding to know but what next? And she remembered him in Lothlórien, haughty and suspicious until he began to speak of Míriel, the sister he had loved and protected through all the days of their lives. Boromir the tall, the fair, the bold, had died, and his treasured sister lived on; what was Aranor’s grief to that?

May the news of his loss come to you swiftly and kindly, jewel-maiden!

Aranor’s voice nearly broke at the thought. She forced herself to continue:

“—to Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days!”

[moony-artnstuff]

In my arms

Request: A Frodo x hobbit reader song fic in which she and Sam both accompany him all the way to Mount Doom and she does everything she can to comfort and help him? The song I had in mind was In My Arms by Plumb since I feel like it fits him so well 😢

Note: @fandomsarefamily1966​ I had so much fun writing this! It is a really beautiful song and I think it really fits Frodo’s character and the journey he had to make. This is the first time I wrote a songfic like this, so I would really appreciate your feedback. I hope you like it!

The song that is used is called ‘In my arms’ by Plumb. I do not own the lyrics, only the story (excluding the characters of course)

Your baby blues

so full of wonder

your curly cues

your contagious smile

And as I watch

you start to grow up

all I can do is hold you tight

“Boromir, give Frodo the ring.” You looked down to see Boromir holding Sauron’s ring, and dread filled your stomach. Frodo stood a few steps away, Aragorn protectively behind him as the Gondorian handed him back the ring. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before looking back at Frodo. His once bright eyes seemed tired, his damp curls poking out everywhere from being ruffled, and you felt worried thinking about the toll carrying the One Ring to Mordor would take on him. Walking up beside him, you took his hand into your own and brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

“Ya know, when I said I wanted to know what snow was like this wasn’t what I had in mind.” You had always wanted to see snow, it being a foreign thing to you, seeing as winter wasn’t really a thing in the Shire. Frodo chuckled.

“What do you mean, y/n? I thought being buried knee-deep in the snow on top of a mountain would be an excellent experience.” And you both let out a cheerful laugh.

Knowing clouds will raise up

storms will race in

but you will be safe in my arms

Rains will pour down

waves will crash all around

but you will be save in my arms

It was dark. And it was quiet. The elves long since having stopped singing their lament for Gandalf, leaving your grief over his death hanging over you like a deafening silence, until somewhere in the darkness, your heard someone cry. Rolling on your left side, you could faintly make out Frodo’s figure, his shoulders shaking as he softly weeped, trying to smother the sobs with his pillow. You reached out to him.

“Frodo?” instantly the crying ceased, and Frodo’s body stilled.

“Sweetie, I heard you crying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.” You watched as he turned around, his big blue eyes filled with tears, and you immediately gathered him in your arms, stroking his hair as he softly cried into your neck.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay my love,” you whispered, as to not wake the others, “You’re safe here in my arms.”

Story books full of fairy tales

kings and queens and the bluest skies

My heart is torn just in knowing

you’ll someday see the truth from lies

Knowing clouds will raise up

storms will race in

but you will be safe in my arms

Rains will pour down

waves will crash all around

but you will be safe in my arms

“Hurry slowpokes! We must hurry before they come back!” Your heard Smeagol calling from a small distance. Looking up you could see Frodo and Sam, still shaken from almost being found by the ringwraith. First you helped up Sam, who gratefully accepted your hand, before making your way over to Frodo. Reaching out a hand to him, he held onto it tightly while trying to steady his breathing, the ring’s voice echoing loudly in his mind. You just held him close, providing what little comfort you had by rubbing his back and pressing kissed into his hairline.

“It’s okay, Frodo, I’ve got you.”

Castles they might grumble

Dreams may not come true

but you are never all alone

because I will always 

always love you

You guys had done it. You had actually done it. Who would’ve thought three little hobbits would actually be able to destroy the one ring, but you had done it. And even now, amidst all the chaos, watching the land of Mordor fall apart, your felt relieved. You, Sam and Frodo held on to each other tightly, talking about the Shire, about home, despite knowing you would never get to see it again. And as the three of you one by one succumbed to exhaustion, you heard Frodo say,

“Sam, my dear y/n, I’m glad you guys are with me. Here at the end of it all.” And right before darkness overtook you, you answered,

“There’s no place I’d rather be.”

Clouds will raise up

storms will race in

but you will be safe in my arms

Rains will pour down

waves will crash all around

but you will be safe in my arms

[avery-foxglove]

FrodoSam Moments in The Lord of the Rings (Books): The Fellowship of the Ring

 I would definitely say that The Two Towers and The Return of the King have more tender (and romantic) moments, but The Fellowship is the first volume, so:

Note: This is mostly for my own pure interest and reference. 

  1.

He [Frodo] looked at Sam Gamgee, and discovered that Sam was watching him.

‘Well, Sam!’ he said. ‘What about it? I am leaving the Shire as soon as ever I can - in fact I have made up my mind now not even to wait a day at Crickhollow, if it can be helped.’

‘Very good, sir!’

‘You still mean to come with me?’

‘I do.’

‘It is going to be very dangerous, Sam. It is already dangerous. Most likely neither of us will come back.’

‘If you don’t come back, sir, then I shan’t, that’s certain,’ said Sam. ‘Don’t you leave him! they said to me. Leave him! I said. I never mean to. I am going with him, if he climbs to the Moon, and if any of those Black Rulers try to stop him, they’ll have Sam Gamgee to reckon with, I said. They laughed.’

‘Who are they, and what are you talking about?’

‘The Elves, sir. We had some talk last night; and they seemed to know you were going away, so I didn’t see the use of denying it. Wonderful folk, Elves, sir! Wonderful!’

‘They are,’ said Frodo. ‘Do you like them still, now you have had a closer view?’

‘They seem a bit above my likes and dislikes, so to speak,’ answered Sam slowly. ‘It don’t seem to matter what I think about them. They are quite different from what I expected - so old and young, and so gay and sad, as it were.’

Frodo looked at Sam rather startled, half expecting to see some outward sign of the odd change that seemed to have come over him. It did not sound like the voice of the old Sam Gamgee that he thought he knew. But it looked like the old Sam Gamgee sitting there, except that his face was unusually thoughtful.

 2.

‘Where did you come by that, Sam?' asked Pippin. 'I've never heard those words before.'

Sam muttered something inaudible.

 'It's out of his own head, of course,' said Frodo. 'I am learning a lot about Sam Gamgee on this journey. First he was a conspirator, now he's a jester. He'll end up by becoming a wizard - or a warrior!'

'I hope not,' said Sam. 'I don't want to be neither!'

    3.

At that moment there was a knock on the door, and Sam came in. He ran to Frodo and took his left hand, awkwardly and shyly. He stroked it gently and then he blushed and turned hastily away.

`Hullo, Sam!' said Frodo.

`It's warm!' said Sam. `Meaning your hand, Mr. Frodo. It has felt so cold through the long nights. But glory and trumpets!' he cried, turning round again with shining eyes and dancing on the floor. 'It's fine to see you up and yourself again, sir! Gandalf asked me to come and see if you were ready to come down, and I thought he was joking.'

'I am ready,' said Frodo. 'Let's go and look for the rest of the party!'

`I can take you to them, sir,' said Sam. `It's a big house this, and very peculiar. Always a bit more to discover, and no knowing what you'll find round a corner. And Elves, sir! Elves here, and Elves there! Some like kings, terrible and splendid; and some as merry as children. And the music and the singing-not that I have had the time or the heart for much listening since we got here. But I'm getting to know some of the ways of the place.'

'I know what you have been doing, Sam,' said Frodo, taking his arm. 'But you shall be merry tonight, and listen to your heart's content. Come on, guide me round the corners!'

  4. 

`But you won't send him off alone surely, Master?' cried Sam, unable to contain himself any longer, and jumping up from the corner where he had been quietly sitting on the floor.

`No indeed!' said Elrond, turning towards him with a smile. `You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.'

Sam sat down, blushing and muttering. `A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in, Mr. Frodo!' he said, shaking his head.

   5.

Elrond summoned the hobbits to him. He looked gravely at Frodo. 'The time has come,' he said. `If the Ring is to set out, it must go soon. But those who go with it must not count on their errand being aided by war or force. They must pass into the domain of the Enemy far from aid. Do you still hold to your word, Frodo, that you will be the Ring-bearer?'

'I do,' said Frodo. `I will go with Sam.'

   6.

Frodo felt something seize him by the ankle, and he fell with a cry. Bill the pony gave a wild neigh of fear, and turned tail and dashed away along the lakeside into the darkness. Sam leaped after him, and then hearing Frodo's cry he ran back again, weeping and cursing. The others swung round and saw the waters of the lake seething, as if a host of snakes were swimming up from the southern end.

Out from the water a long sinuous tentacle had crawled; it was pale-green and luminous and wet. Its fingered end had hold of Frodo's foot and was dragging him into the water. Sam on his knees was now slashing at it with a knife.

The arm let go of Frodo, and Sam pulled him away, crying out for help. Twenty other arms came rippling out. The dark water boiled, and there was a hideous stench.

`Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick! ' shouted Gandalf leaping back. Rousing them from the horror that seemed to have rooted all but Sam to the ground where they stood, he drove them forward.

   7.

`Whoa, Sam Gamgee! ' he said aloud. `Your legs are too short, so use your head! Let me see now! Boromir isn't lying, that's not his way; but he hasn't told us everything. Something scared Mr. Frodo badly. He screwed himself up to the point, sudden. He made up his mind at last to go. Where to? Off East. Not without Sam? Yes, without even his Sam. That's hard, cruel hard.'

Sam passed his hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears. 'Steady, Gamgee! ' he said. `Think, if you can! He can't fly across rivers, and he can't jump waterfalls. He's got no gear. So, he's got to get back to the boats. Back to the boats! Back to the boats, Sam, like lightning! '

Sam turned and bolted back down the path. He fell and cut his knees. Up he got and ran on. He came to the edge of the lawn of Parth Galen by the shore, where the boats were drawn up out of the water. No one was there. There seemed to be cries in the woods behind, but he did not heed them. He stood gazing for a moment: stock-still, gaping. A boat was sliding down the bank all by itself. With a shout Sam raced across the grass. The boat slipped into the water.

`Coming, Mr. Frodo! Coming! ' called Sam, and flung himself from the bank, clutching at the departing boat. He missed it by a yard. With a cry and a splash he fell face downward into deep swift water. Gurgling he went under, and the River closed over his curly head.

An exclamation of dismay came from the empty boat. A paddle swirled and the boat put about. Frodo was just in time to grasp Sam by the hair as he came up, bubbling and struggling. Fear was staring in his round brown eyes.

`Up you come, Sam my lad! ' said Frodo. `Now take my hand! '

`Save me, Mr. Frodo! ' gasped Sam. `I'm drownded. I can't see your hand.'

`Here it is. Don't pinch, lad! I won't let you go. Tread water and don't flounder, or you'll upset the boat. There now, get hold of the side, and let me use the paddle!’

With a few strokes Frodo brought the boat back to the bank. and Sam was able to scramble out, wet as a water-rat. Frodo took off the Ring and stepped ashore again.

`Of all the confounded nuisances you are the worst, Sam! ' he said.

'Oh, Mr. Frodo, that's hard! ' said Sam shivering. `That's hard, trying to go without me and all. If I hadn't a guessed right, where would you be now? '

`Safely on my way.'

`Safely! ' said Sam. `All alone and without me to help you? I couldn't have a borne it, it'd have been the death of me.'

'It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam,' said Frodo, “and I could not have borne that.'

`Not as certain as being left behind,' said Sam.

`But I am going to Mordor.'

`I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course, you are. And I'm coming with you.'

`Now, Sam,' said Frodo, `don't hinder me! The others will be coming back at any minute. If they catch me here. I shall have to argue and explain, and I shall never have the heart or the chance to get off. But I must go at once. It's the only way.'

 `Of course it is,' answered Sam. 'But not alone. I'm coming too, or neither of us isn't going. I'll knock holes in all the boats first.'

Frodo actually laughed. A sudden warmth and gladness touched his heart. `Leave one! 'he said. `We'll need it. But you can't come like this without your gear or food or anything.'

'Just hold on a moment, and I'll get my stuff!' cried Sam eagerly. 'It's all ready. I thought we should be off today.' He rushed to the camping place, fished out his pack from the pile where Frodo had laid it when he emptied the boat of his companions' goods, grabbed a spare blanket and some extra packages of food, and ran back.

`So all my plan is spoilt! ' said Frodo. `It is no good trying to escape you. But I'm glad, Sam. I cannot tell you how glad. Come along! It is plain that we were meant to go together.”

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 3

Summary: You, a fantasy-loving LARPing human from Earth, got dropped into Middle-Earth with no recollection of the place except for bits and pieces. Lord Fabulous Elvenking has given you three days to find the portal from which you came, with the aide of his son Legolas, who you've taken to calling "Blue-Eyes." If you don't find the portal, you're to be taken back to the palace for a swift execution...

Chapter No.: Chapter 2

Key:

[Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: I actually researched the languages using a website called elfdict,but I don’t know if the orcish is correct...

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

Starting at dawn every day, you, Legolas, and the troop of Elves searched repeatedly for the portal. You threw yourself off of the tree countless times. You laid in the spot for hours. At one point, the Elves had even used some kind of sheet made of leaves and their supernatural strength to fling you up like a trampoline to see if the portal was aboveground.

Nothing happened.

As the days wore on, you grew more and more bitter. Every move felt exhausting, and like there was no use: you couldn't get back to your family.

You couldn't live here. There seemed to be no point of your existence anymore.

Somewhere around sunset of the second day, Blue-Eyes noticed your sudden lack of enthusiasm. "May I ask what troubles you?"

You scoffed. "Why do you care? I'll be dead in about forty-eight hours anyway. What I feel doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ," Legolas took a seat beside you; you scooted a couple of inches away. "You are in our world now, so you will go to our gods for judgement when you die."

You frowned. You'd always been kinda an atheist. "The Valar?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes. The Valar. Your feelings before death will determine whether or not you'll be given a good place among them."

You rolled your eyes. "You're kidding, right? They'll judge me for being pissed off and upset 'cause I can't get back to my own world to see my family, then killed just for breathing on Lord Fabulous's precious trees? They can go fuck themselves."

His face was priceless. If you hadn't been so pissed, you might've laughed. "...Lord... Fabulous? And, while I have my doubts about your recent hand gesturing, I do know that what you just said is most likely vulgar. Have respect for the Valar."

You snorted. "First of all, fabulous means somebody who loves dressing in the best and most well-liked outfits of the time, while also being very uppity and acting like they're God's gift to humanity. Second of all, yeah, that is vulgar, and no I will not take it back. Third, how fucking dare you, sir, to tell me to respect some candy-ass bitches up in the sky who'll judge me for having feelings."

Legolas shook his head. "Alright, ass is a word we do have here, as is candy. I can get the gist of that meaning. I cannot force you to have respect for them, especially when they brought you here."

You glared at him. "Yeah, whatever. Just leave me alone."

Blue-Eyes sighed. "As you wish."

You turned away, scrunching up into yourself against the night chill.

On the edge of night...

All shall fade...

With a huff, you curled up where you were and tried to fall asleep.

**

A beautiful copper dragon sat before you on a mound of gold. "Do you think flattery will keep you alive?"

"N-no..." Said the silhouette of a very small person.

"No indeed," Confirmed the dragon. He began to prowl around. "You seem familiar with my name, but I don't remember smelling your kind before. Who are you, and where do you come from, if I may ask?"

The dream flipped.

You stood between two Elves in silver robes, one of which was Blue-Eyes, looking sullen. "Tell me," Said the other Elf, "Where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

Legolas's crystal blue eyes glistened with tears, but he held them back. He'd never seemed like one to cry. "He was taken by both shadow and flame. A balrog of Morgoth."

The dream--no, vision-- changed again.

Before you was an old man in blue-gray robes with a long gray beard and pointed hat, smiling kindly up at what looked like a child. You couldn't turn your head to see. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins, nor is he ever early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

The visions flashed in your mind quickly now, too fast for you to discern much from them.

"Sauron's forces are massing in the east."

"This is no mere ranger! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. You owe him your allegiance."

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

"I ain't droppin' no eaves, Mister Frodo!"

"I choose a mortal life."

"The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"

"He is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the true King under the Mountain."

"You have the gift of foresight. What did you see?"

"Arwen..."

"What did you see?"

"I saw death. Your death."

"But there is also life. You saw my son."

"You have my sword."

"And my bow."

"And my axe!"

"If this is what the council decides, then Gondor will see it is done."

"Things that were... Things that are... And things that have not yet come to pass."

"Did he offer you a bargain?"

"Yes. I refused."

"A bargain was our only hope..."

"Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?"

"I am fire... I am...Death."

~ominous as fuck time skip~

You woke with a start, the dragon's words still echoing in your head. You knew over half of those names, deep in your mind... Sauron, Morgoth, balrog, Thorin, Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf... You knew the voices, too. But you couldn't place any of them.

The Elves were already awake (With the sun as usual.), readying their breakfast of weeds.

You frowned. Why should you be concerned with why this place sounds familiar if you weren't going to be here much longer? You got up, and prepared to search for the portal-- you didn't want any breakfast, especially when it was nothing but dandelion fluff and sparkles.

"You are not breaking your fast?" Blue-Eyes asked you, and at first you thought he was using Elvish slang.

"You mean I'm not eating breakfast?"

"If that is how you say it in your world, yes."

You shrugged. "I'll be dead later anyway. What's the point?"

Legolas sighed. "To keep up your strength to find your way back. What if you arrive back on your world in the middle of the wilderness, like you did here? You will have no supplies, and I doubt you know much about foraging."

You huffed. "You know what? Screw off. I don't want anything to eat, and you can fucking deal with that."

He looked up in exasperation, probably praying to his Valar for you to stop being such a nuisance. "You use that word an awful lot."

"What word?"

"Fuck."

Then you almost busted out laughing, because a fancy pretty sparkly Elf, even if he was deadly, saying a modern cuss word was too funny.

He blinked. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

You snorted, crossing your arms. "Do you even know what the definition of that word is?"

"No." You gestured for him to come closer, then whispered the meaning into his ear. He sprang back wildly with wide eyes and a profoundly disgusted expression. "Dear Valar, I will never repeat a word you say again unless I am sure of what it means!" His eyes widened even further. "Wait... You just told the gods to perform impossible sexual acts on themselves! And the day before you told me to..." He stopped short, appalled.

"Yuh-huh. Just now gettin' that, goldie? For shame upon me." A thought struck you. "Wait, do Elves even have sex like humans? Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

He blushed a little. "Find the portal. Quickly." He awkwardly left, sparing you a quick glance like "wtf."

You grinned maliciously, then went back to your search.

By sundown, nothing was found. You stared down at the patch where you'd originally landed, wishing for all the world that you'd been born normal, with maybe a slight love for fantasy. Why? Why had you wished, for all of your life, that you'd been transported elsewhere? Now you were, but... You didn't have your family. Without them, you couldn't function right. You just couldn't imagine never seeing them again.

The Elves were already leaving, except for Blue-Eyes. He stood by your side for a minute, as if you were both staring at a grave. You might as well have been. "Bury me here, will you? Maybe my family will find my body. And kill me as non-messily as possible, please? Like, an arrow to the heart'll do."

Blue-Eyes stiffly patted your back. You went ramrod straight-- you'd always hated touch contact. "I will pray for you." He followed his comrades, who were already a good ways back to the river, spread out through the forest. You half considered running in the opposite direction, but you'd be dead before you even so much as got to the ridge where the first of the big dogs had attacked you.

You sighed, and forced yourself to move forward; you gasped as your ankle slipped into a rut, and you yanked it out, arms spread wide for balance. You gave the ground the dirtiest look you could muster, which quickly faded to stunned silence. You leaned down, and scraped more of the dried leaves away...

Your breath caught in your throat. "Blue-Eyes!"

Legolas was at your side in a moment. "Did you find it?"

"I don't know!" You stood and gestured to what you'd found. An inscription, in a language you couldn't read. "It was buried under the leaves."

"Can you read it?"

"Obviously not, dumbass. Is it Elvish?"

Blue-Eyes knelt, tilting his head slightly to read it. His hand grazed the writing. "It is a form of old Elvish, used in the time of Gondolin. This has been here for a very, very long time." He gave you a look. "Forgive me, I'd thought you'd written it at first." You thought about smacking him upside the head, but with everybody suddenly around you again and ready to attack, you thought better of it. Legolas turned back to the writing.

After an almost unspeakably long amount of time, you got impatient. "What's it say, dammit?!"

Legolas shook his head slowly. "I am sorry. Truly, I am. If we had seen this earlier..."

"What does it say, Legolas?!"

He stood, and looked you in the eyes, sympathetic. "'The way is shut. There is no going back. The way is shut, until next fiery moonlight.'"

Your face lit up. "R-really?! Then that means all we have to do is wait for a full moon, right?! That's usually what it is! Full moon at midnight for stuff like this, in all the books! Do you think Lord Fabulous could extend my sentence--"

"[Y/N]," It was the first time he'd used your name, and it made you freeze. "The night you arrived, the moon was full. But it was also a Firemoon. It means you cannot return to your world until the next Firemoon."

Your hopes slowly fell, but you were determined not to succumb to the panic that was quickly rising. "H-how much longer till the next one?"

Legolas put a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to understand.

"Firemoons only happen once every thousand years, [Y/N]." The words were like being hit by a semi going full speed on the highway-- sudden, fatal, and unbelievable. "You cannot go home."

Everything suddenly seemed far away, like you were seeing this from someone else's perspective. Everything went quiet, at least to you. The world seemed to spin. You dropped to your knees, and you were vaguely aware of Blue-Eyes saying, "I am sorry..."

You didn't know what to do. I can't go home... I can't go home...

I can't go home.

Your breaths came in panicked, short bursts. Even if it killed you, you took off running. Maybe if you ran for long enough, you'd wake up from this nightmare. Then you could pretend you were in some fantasy world with your family this time. You expected to be shot in the back, but you heard Blue-Eyes shout an order in Elvish, and instead, about three or four individual Elves followed you. You don't know how long you ran; tears streamed from your cheeks. Your lungs burned. Your legs felt like Jello. You collapsed at one point, and screamed, though you couldn't hear it. You screamed until your throat was raw. You were vaguely aware of a few Elves nearby, but you ignored them.

All shall...

In all the chaos, it wasn't long before you blacked out.

...Fade...

~emo time skip~

When you woke up, it was midmorning. Birds chirped endlessly on, the happiest goddamned creatures in the world. A couple of Elves talked quietly amongst themselves in hushed voices and in Elvish. You were laying on your back, and somebody had covered you up in a blanket. The smell of something good-- not that anything was, at this point--filled the air. It smelled like cinnamon and walnuts, like Christmas.

With a sigh, you cracked your swollen eyes open. Legolas sat cross-legged beside you, checking his bowstring and polishing the wood. He smiled half-heartedly at you. "You are awake."

Obviously. You didn't say anything. You didn't want to talk. Or think. Legolas sighed, placing his bow across his lap. "We must head for the palace. My father will wonder what is keeping us."

Yeah, gotta kill me as quick as possible... Death is better than this, anyway.

Legolas gave the order, and the Elves started to pack up. You laid monotone and still for the length of it, until Blue-Eyes gave you the signal to get up. Then you walked slowly behind them, every step a chore. You'd barely reached the river, and you were exhausted. And still, that damned song was going through your head...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

All shall fade...

You knew that your dream last night had been connected to this place, whatever it was. Did that mean this song was, too? You were half tempted to ask Blue-Eyes, but you decided you weren't worthy of talking to any of these fantastical fantasy beings, even if they were going to kill you in t-minus some hours.

The company suddenly halted. Blue-Eyes had a hand raised, and all the Elves's weapons had materialized in their hands. Blue-Eyes was quiet, listening...

An eerie howl cut through the trees, chilling you to your bones. Was that one of those big dogs that carried orcs? A horn followed the howl, and all the Elves strung their bows and readied their weapons. "Gundabad yrch!" Legolas proclaimed-- you were going to assume that yrch meant orcs. He went on to give a bunch of other orders, and the Elves took off running; if it were up to you, you'd've stopped running and let the dogs have you for dinner.

But apparently Legolas seen that, and grabbed your upper arm to drag you along beside him. Damn him... The rest of the Elves were suddenly ignoring Blue-Eyes's orders. Half of them went off into the trees in the direction of the horn and howl, and the other half formed a protective circle around him-- and you, coincidentally.

Blue-Eyes barked an order at them which they ignored, but all of you stopped short when you seen what awaited you on the far bank; the way back to the palace.

Six massive wargs, more wolflike than the ones from before, with orcs a hell of a lot uglier than the ones from before sitting atop their backs, with black bows and jagged, haphazard swords. In the direction the other Elves had gone, there was more howling. Shit. If you cared about your survival right now, you'd've been terrified. But you almost enjoyed the thought of death, if it hadn't been so gruesome.

Blue-Eyes scanned the bank. There were more orcs nearby, on foot, and several more wargs. One of the Elves moved faster than you could see, snatching a sleek gold horn on his hip and blowing hard before Legolas could stop him.

The Elf-- it was the one that'd found your hair dye repulsive the other day-- hardly got a note out before an arrow lodged itself in his throat. The note trailed off into a gurgle as blood sprayed from the wound. Droplets splattered onto you, and you recoiled; you'd never seen death. You'd been to a funeral once or twice, but never this. He fell backward, and the river swiftly carried his body away.

Legolas shouted an order, and the Elves readied themselves for battle. But there wouldn't be one just yet, despite the death of that Elf. The lead orc-- a nasty, pale gray orc with swollen eyes and a protruding mouth, tall and thick, his forehead covered in scars-- stepped off of his warg, which was bigger than the rest.

He came about halfway before stopping. "A truce?" One of the Elves asked-- Common was probably hard to speak for orcs, so they resorted to it to keep from being understood. It made sense.

Legolas didn't take his eyes off of the orc, but shook his head. "That is Bolg, spawn of Azog the Defiler. He would not make any truce with us, nor would any other orc. They are beyond reason, and think only of blood and death." Bolg... Azog... Now you really knew these names... But why?

"Albai," The orc snarled; his voice was deep. "Dorzog ajog lum trov!"

"Emme uva!" Legolas cried. "Sin nor yara ana Aran Thranduil!"

Thranduil... You knew that name. But the fact that they were conversing in orcish and Elvish was astounding. One must've came from the other, and you were just going to assume that it was the orcish that came from Elvish.

Bolg's already disgusting face scrunched up into a frown. "Vol lat diig!" The orc raised an arm; you recognized the movement as a signal to fire. The Elves scrambled around wildly yet gracefully to avoid the arrows, but you barely moved; an arrow got you right in the bare part of your upper arm, and another grazed your ear. Still, you didn't move, praying for one to hit you in the head or heart or something. You hardly felt the pain.

As the battle took place around you, you zoned out. You caught glimpses of a bloodied Elven corpse, or a dismembered orc, and of course, blood was everywhere. The river ran red. You just wished it would end...

A grunt nearby brought you out of your trance.

It was Blue-Eyes, being pinned down by a warg's paw on his chest, another on his left arm. He flipped the dagger in his good hand and stabbed it violently into the warg's shoulder. The beast howled in agony, but only pushed down harder; Legolas's eyes widened as he realized the knife was stuck. The warg snarled, and opened its jaws, savoring the taste of fear before it would bite down...

None of this is his fault. He shouldn't have to die.

The warg had dismissed you as unthreatening. One of the Elves lay dead on the rocks nearby, a longblade in her hand as she stared with unseeing eyes to the sky, mouth agape. You snatched the weapon from her already-stiffening grasp. It was heavy. But it was sharp as hell.

In two leaps, you'd reached the warg, which looked to you in confusion, then recognition, with a growl. You brought the sword down, slicing deep into the creature's face. It wailed in an echo of a voice, and released Legolas, pawing at the wound; Legolas whipped his bow out like an OP follower and shot that dog point blank.

You let go of the hilt, stunned. Blue-Eyes inclined his head. "You have my deepest thanks, [Y/N.]. You saved my life."

You just nodded in shock.

Legolas raced back into the battle, leaving you to your own. Another horn blew, this one like the one the Elf that'd been shot first had blown. A barrage of arrows flew from the trees, felling every orc and warg in seconds. Some grazed you, but none touched any of the surviving Elves.

A she-Elf in a dark green tunic, carrying a longbow, loped out of the woods with her comrades. She was beautiful, with red hair so long it went past her waist. "Legolas!" She cried, and he responded in Elvish; again, you couldn't understand what they were saying, and it was really starting to piss you off.

"[Y/N]," Blue-Eyes called to you, and you belatedly looked up. He and the ginger were approaching you sollemnly. "This is Tauriel, Captain of the Guard. She will take you back to the palace and explain what happened here." Ah... Death at last.

"Tauriel," Legolas turned to her; something shone in his eyes. You recognized his spark, but not hers, but the thought quickly left your head when you registered what he was saying. "Tell my father that they saved my life."

"What?" Tauriel looked impressed, and bowed her head to you. "You have my thanks, mellon."

"Perhaps he will spare them from execution in repayment," Legolas pointed out, and Tauriel made an 'o' face.

She bowed respectfully. "I will make sure of it, my prince."

Wut.

Oh, right. Blue-Eye's dad was Lord Fabulous, king of these Elves. Of course that'd make him a prince. Prince Legolas Gr... Of the Wood... Rea... The thought was like an echo. You couldn't catch it.

Legolas nodded to you, and Tauriel lead you away from the carnage of the river battlefield.

~time skip~

"Saving my son does not grant you my utmost favor," Lord Fabulous glared down at you like you were a nasty piece of gum he'd stepped on in flip-flops. "But it does warrant some form of reward. I am sure you wish for your execution to be cancelled?"

On autopilot, you nodded. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live. You just wished you'd never have existed in the first place, that way none of this would've happened.

Lord Fabulous Elvenking snorted, like he was hoping you'd just ask for cake before you were beheaded. "Of course. Take them to their cell."

Tauriel wasn't as rough as Legolas, or even any of the guards had been, but she still held you firmly. "Would you like a change of clothes? I could also arrange for a washbasin to be brought to you."

You just nodded. Couldn't you just dissipate? But, if it'd taken nineteen years for this wish to come true, then it'd take another nineteen years for you to disappear. You were an Elf now, so that should pass in one painful blink of an eye...

"I am sorry that you could not find the portal," Tauriel told you as she locked the door to your cell. "I will have the guards bring you something to eat at once."

You laid down on your cot, curled up, and closed your eyes. You heard the guard come and deliver the food, then leave quietly, but you still didn't move. You didn't move when Tauriel brought you clothes and a bucket of water and rags, you didn't move when Blue-Eyes came to thank you again, you didn't move when a rat came and took your cheese. You just laid there, staring and feeling dead on the inside.

You refused to eat or drink for the next few days. You slept, mostly. When you were awake, you were crying silently. You dreamed of your family. You grieved. Your muscles cramped from sleeping in one position for days. Your stomach felt like it was going to eat you alive. Your mouth was as dry as sandpaper. A hollow ache had settled in the core of your torso, between your heart and lungs; a pulsing orb of sadness, regret, and the wish to disappear. A couple of times, you passed out from hunger while laying down. But you were an Elf, so it'd be hard for you to starve.

You kept count of the days by the cycle of guards exchanging meals. Every tray held different things for different mealtimes: fruits and bread for breakfast, cheese and bread for lunch, and a thick vegetable soup for dinner. About nine days went by before anyone came to check on you, and by that point, you were hysterical on the inside. On the outside, you were catatonic.

And you reeked, because you hadn't had a shower in like, awhile.

After two battles.

So you weren't at your best.

"My guards tell me you refuse to sustain yourself." It was Blue-Eyes. "Do you realize how much of an offense that is to his majesty? He allows you to live, and yet you seek death out deliberately."

You said nothing. Hell, your eyes didn't even move. With a sigh, Blue-Eyes moved to your bedside. "Ah, I see you have also refused to bathe..." You didn't crack a smile. Even on the inside, you hardly felt a twinge of amusement. You felt... Empty.

Legolas surprised you by placing a hand on your cheek. "You miss them, don't you?"

Tears welled in your eyes. Dammit stop making me have feels. Ah, but feels you had, my friend, and you started bawling into your pillow. Legolas shushed you, and petted your head and told you it would be alright. You don't know how long you cried, but at one point, Legolas and Tauriel switched places, even though she clearly didn't want to and sucked at emotional talking.

When it was Legolas's turn again, you'd finally gotten to the nearly-finished state of hyperactive wheezing. "How long were you holding that in, I wonder?" You still didn't answer. He gave you a sympathetic smile. "You saved my life. Let me help you save yours. Get up. You will eat, even if I must force it down your throat, and once you're full, you'll bathe. After, I will take you for a tour of Mirkwood. You'll be living here, now... I suppose it's only right you learn how to navigate your homeland."

Finally, it clicked.

"Wh...What did you say...?" Your voice was hoarse from underuse and crying, but it still worked.

Legolas gave you a concerned look, like that much crying might've damaged your hearing. "I said I will take you for a tour of Mirkwood--"

You sat up; too fast, but you sat up. Your sugar dropped. But you had to know. "Mirkwood... Where is that?"

Legolas frowned. "East of the Misty Mountains, west of Erebor, home to the dwarves and the King Under the Mountain. North of Ithilien, Gondor, and northeast to Lothlorien, Ithilien, and Rohan."

Oh fuck.

"Wh-what is this place called? In general? Collectively? Like, the whole continent?"

Legolas seemed to finally realize that you were crazy. "Middle-Earth."

Oh hell.

"Holy shit..."

"What is it?"

You couldn't remember it clearly. Hell, you could hardly remember it at all. But what you did remember finally made sense. Tolkien's fantasy masterpiece that no one can surpass... The Hobbit... Lord of The Rings... The Fellowship... Smaug, Thorin, Bilbo... Aragorn, Arwen... Thranduil, Legolas, Tauriel... Oh gods, Legolas! "I-I... The books... Oh, gods..."

"Mellon...?"

You promptly fell face-first off the bed before any half-assed explanation could be given to poor Golden Boy.

"[Y/N]?!"

...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

And there are many paths to tread...

Through shadow, to the edge of night...

Until the stars are all alight...

Mist and shadow...

Cloud and shade...

All shall fade...

All shall...

...Fade...

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​

[elvish-sky]

Happy {Merry x Reader}

A.N: I did not get way into writing Merry’s speech. How dare you? ...so yes, I may have pulled up all my romantic proposal speech ideas and memories from books and combined them into this monstrosity. I’m actually very much not ashamed, it’s fricken adorable and I really don’t care if you don’t like it because it makes my heart flutter every time I read it. Anyways, I looooved this request and I really hope you like it!

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Hi Maia! This is the anon who thought she pressed submit two days ago 😅. May I please request a fluffy fic between Merry and hobbit reader where they’re already courting? Maybe post scouring of the shire where he sees her playing with the children and makes plans to and proposes? Hope you are well and thank you for putting in all the time and effort to write these fics! ~abeautifuldayfortea

Word Count: 925

Pairing: Merry x Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff

****  

Happy 

“Pippin!” Merry burst into his friend’s home, an excited grin on his face as he grabbed his friend’s arm. 

“Today’s the day!” Merry was practically bouncing with excitement, causing Pippin to lead him to a chair and sit down.

“I know, Merry, but calm down. We don’t want her to find out too early, now, do we?”

Merry shook his head. “I know, Pip. I’m just so excited! I’m going to ask Y/N to marry me!” 

Pippin was laughing at his friend. “Is everything ready?”

Merry nodded. 

“I’m going to bring her up to the hill at dusk, where you’ll be waiting. You better head up soon to double-check everything!”

Nodding at his friend, Merry rose and left, hugging his friend in thanks.

Later that day, Merry was making his way through Hobbiton to the hill he had planned to propose on when he saw you, sitting in a circle with a group of hobbit children. They were rapt with attention as you spoke, and Merry could tell that you were telling a story from how your face was alight with excitement. He watched as you mimed a knife being brandished.

“...and then the brave Meriadoc stabbed the Witch-King in the leg, felling him before the Lady Eowyn, who with one blow slew the evil creature!”

The children erupted in cheers as you pretended to die, and Merry smiled at your retelling. After that fight, you and Pippin had pulled him back from the brink of death. Now, gazing at your face lit up with delight as you moved on to your next tale, he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you. Smiling to himself, he turned and continued his walk.

You stood, brushing off your skirts and waving at the children as they departed. You loved telling stories, particularly those of your journey with the Fellowship, and the reactions you got were always delightful. 

“Y/N! Hi!” Pippin skidded to a halt in front of you, beaming, before grabbing your hand.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He then proceeded to start dragging you along, and, laughing, you let him. 

When you reached the top of a hill, you let out a gasp of surprise. Someone had strung small lanterns in the bushes, so the whole clearing glowed. Flowers were artfully arranged in the grass, and in the center of it all stood Merry.

You looked back at Pippin, wondering if this was what you thought. He winked at you, and turned and disappeared back down the slope.

You made your way into the clearing, marvelling at the small details, the flowers strewn in patterns that you were now noticing. 

“Merry… what is this?”

He grasped one of your hands in his, and you noticed the small rose tucked into his lapel. Your favorite flower.

“Y/N. I’m sure you can guess where this is going, because you always know what I’m up to, sometimes even before I do. But let me speak, because I have been waiting so long for this.”

His eyes were overflowing with love for you, the soft grin on his face melting your heart even more as he continued.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you, well, not since the first time I saw you, because you smacked me on the head for messing with the papers you carried, but sometime after that, after pranking you and trying my very hardest to get you to notice me, I realized I had fallen, and fallen hard. It was the greatest joy of my life when you agreed to court me, and it was the greatest honor of my life when you joined me on that quest and saved me a thousand times. I owe you my life a million times over, but you already own my heart. You are my greatest joy, the one person that I know I would not be here without. And it would give me the greatest pleasure if you would consent to become my wife.”

He bent down on one knee.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” 

You smiled at him as you nodded.

“Yes!”

After you spoke, he swept you into what you considered the greatest kiss of all time. It was a kiss that promised love, a future, trust, everything you didn’t know you needed until you had found it in this slightly ridiculous, absolutely wonderful hobbit.

You broke apart to the cheers of hobbits, who had made their way into the clearing while you were distracted.

“Congratulations!” Sam burst from the crowd, gathering you up into a hug before moving on to Merry. You gently hugged Frodo, laughing as he whispered in your ear, before moving to hug your new fiancee again. 

You gasped as a firework exploded above.

“Gandalf!” Hobbitlings immediately mobbed the grinning wizard, but not before you glimpsed a nod from him, with a smile of congratulations accompanying the twinkle in his eye. 

Merry wrapped an arm around your shoulders as the noise died down, everyone focused on the wonderful firework show above. You couldn’t believe that you were engaged, and were so happy to have found your wonderful hobbit.

But the peaceful silence was broken by a honking noise, and you spun to see Pippin, eyes swollen from crying, blowing his nose into a handkerchief. 

Sobbing, he spoke. “I just am so happy for you two!”

You burst out laughing, giving him a big hug before letting him embrace your future husband. You did agree with him though. You were so very happy, and couldn’t foresee yourself ever being anything else as you gazed at your future husband.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1

Fic tag <3: @abeautifuldayfortea

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Cries - Eomer

Requested by two different anonymous asks.

Pairing: Eomer x Reader Word Count: 1,236 Synopsis: Eomer returns for a long journey, only to find his pregnant wife going into labor, with him locked out. As he waits outside and hears the reader’s cries of pain, he thinks back on their memories over the past few years.

As Eomer approached the thatched roofs of Rohan, he smiled to himself, thinking about surprising you today. Perhaps he would find you lost in a book and could creep into the room silently just to take you in his arms and kiss you. Oh, how he longed to kiss you.

It had been two whole months since he had even heard from you in letters, much less kissed and held you. Aragorn had called him away once more, promising only a few weeks from home. What was supposed to be a few weeks turned into five months.

Last he saw you, you were just barely showing. He hoped that he had not missed the birth of his child, but knew that your delivery was fast approaching.

As he rode into the stall, the stable workers all greeted him formally. He dismounted, and gathering up the flowers he had picked for you just outside of Rohan, he strode into Meduseld.

“Gamling, where is the queen?” His old friend’s face paled when he saw Eomer. “No kind welcome to your king and friend?”

“I’m sorry, my lord, it is good to have you back.”

“That’s more like it,” Eomer said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now where is Y/N? I wanted to surprise her.” Before Gamling has a chance to answer, a scream echoes through the golden halls. “Y/N!” Eomer gasps, forsaking the flowers in his hand and running after your cries.

He raced down the halls, your cries only getting louder until he reached a locked door to the nurse’s quarters. He banged on the door and demanded to be let in.

“Open up!”

“My lord Eomer.” Eomer glanced down the hall, finding Gamling struggling to run after him. 

“Why won’t they let me in?”

“Eomer!” you cried from the opposite end of the door. He pounded his fist against the door but once again it wouldn’t budge.

“I’m going to knock it down,” Eomer thundered, taking a few steps back. 

“Sire, before you do anything, just hear me out.”

“Fine,” Eomer sighed.

“The queen is giving birth, and they’ve instructed that no one else is allowed in the room.”

“I’m not anyone else I’m the king, and more importantly, her husband.”

“I understand, but to ensure that there are no complications, the nursemaids have decided no one else is allowed in until your child is born.” Eomer seethed but understood their instructions. He leaned against the door, hearing your recent cry of pain and sunk to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Eomer only nodded his head in response, listening to the other side of the door intently. “I’ll leave you be.”

It felt wrong to be out in the hall when you were in there, bringing the biggest change of your lives into the world. You had been through absolutely everything together, and he didn’t want to be apart from you for this moment. 

He thought back to when you met, both eager to help Aragorn and Frodo bring the Ring of Power back to Mount Doom. When you met, he knew you were a formidable woman, but the longer he got to know you, the times he had seen you fight, for your lives and to be with him, his love and admiration for your only grew. 

He remembered proposing to you, quickly and improperly after the battle of Pelennor Fields, too excited by the fact that you both survived. It had been in a crowded hall with all your friends and even though you were embarrassed, you said yes right then and there. And then, once everything had settled down, he took you out onto a romantic outlook in Gondor and proposed in the proper way.

Your marriage wasn’t too long after you returned to Rohan and Eomer finally took his place as king. It was a glorious occasion, only because he knew that he would always be by your side, and you would always be by his during awkward royal occasions. 

Another heart-shattering scream came from the other room. Eomer banged his head against the door, wishing he was in there to comfort you. There was nothing he could do to ease your pain, but if he was in there, at least he could ease your mind. He was never far from your side unless he had to be.

When Aragorn asked him to help disband a group of orcs causing trouble outside the walls of Gondor, Eomer was hesitant to help. You had just found out you were pregnant, and Eomer didn’t want to leave you during that time. You had encouraged him to go though, assuming that he would be back in time.

“Eomer! Where are you?” you cried again, ripping Eomer from his thoughts.

“I’m here, love! I’m right here!” he yelled back. Tears began to fall down his face. He knew there was a lot that could go wrong with pregnancy, and he didn’t want to be out here if something went wrong. He pushed that thought away as another cry came from the other side of the door. 

“Just hang on, love, I’ll be with you soon!” he called.

He didn’t know how long he waited in agony, but it felt like hours. He only had his memories of you to keep him company, interrupted every so often by your cries. Just when he thought he was going to rip his hair out in worry, he heard another cry erupt from the room. Higher pitched than any of your cries, Eomer knew he had just heard the cry of his newborn child. He waited a moment to hear a sound from you, a sign that you were alright. When he didn’t hear anything other than his child’s cries, he broke open the door. 

The nurses all turned to look at him in shock, aghast that he would barge in like so. He didn’t care what they thought, though, as he looked to the bed and found you, perfectly fine, holding your child. 

“Eomer,” you said breathlessly. He crossed the room in two steps and soon wrapped you and your child up in his arms.

“Oh, are you alright?”

“I’m wonderful,” you said, pulling out of his arms. He took you in. Your face was flushed and you were sweaty but other than that, you looked just as you did when he left you, except for the newborn in your arms. He grabbed hold of your cheeks and kissed you deeply, trying to make up for lost time.

As if he needed attention, your son cried out in your arms, drawing both of your attentions.

“Eomer, meet our son.”

“Son?” Eomer asked, his voice dropping softy. You nodded your head as he sat down next to you and held his son for the first time. “Welcome to the world,” Eomer said sweetly. Your son replied with a scream, making him laugh.

“Well, what else can you expect?” you asked tiredly. “He came into the world hearing both of his parents screaming, it’s probably how he thinks we communicate.” Eomer laughed and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“I don’t care how we talk to each other, screams or not,” he said, wrapping you in his arms, “As long as I get to talk to both of you each and every day.”

“I missed you so much,” you said, kissing his cheek.

“I promise, I won’t leave you alone ever again.”