#beleg x you

[lovefairymina]

BELEG YOU'RE TOO CUTE IM GONNA SQUISH YOUR CHEEKS *squishes his cheeks*

“Not before I squish your cheeks!” he exclaimed through puffed cheeks as your hands had already clamped down on his cheeks. Automatically, his hands clasped your adorable cheeks and repeated the same actions. “You’re so cute, meleth-nîn!”

[daily-smol-silm]

Day #1 - Turleg/Helmbow

Yk I had to sneak my fav tragic boys in here (headcanons included) before pride month ends :3

[winds-of-zephyr416]

*Looks at clock* ooh! it’s time to cry about Beleg Cúthalion again!

[thelien-art]

Omg Túrin x Beleg for the grid pls🙏

Turin is my little disaster boy who does everything wrong unintentionally, I think he´s simply too busy for romance. Sure, he likes a quick fuck now and then and he does have crushes on people, he´s my little bisexual disaster man, and he definitely had one on Beleg when he was younger, maybe still has one, but I don´t think he ever did something real about it.

I´m always torn between Beleg being aromantic or a romantic fool who falls for everyone he lays eyes on.

So in conclusion - it depends on the day.

[doodlinglisy]

Winter Dance

Mablung and Beleg for @thegreatstrongbow I hope you will like it! Happy Holidays :) @officialtolkiensecretsanta

[tolkieen]

The Children of Hurin

aka The Curse of Turin

[milkywaystarboy]

for the prompts, if you are willing: Turin and Beleg and "the shadows grew long in the forest"

thank you for the prompt!!! i didn't expect to get one which is why this took me a while, but i hope it doesn't disappoint. (link to silmarillion prompts post)

---

túrin stood just inside the treeline, where the slender birch trunks rose from the forest floor to reach towards the stars. he did not lean on one of them, as he might’ve when he was younger; instead his back was straight, gaze fixed westward. beleg wondered if he thought to pierce the girdle of melian with sight alone, to once again behold the home he’d left.

“the king truly does miss you,” the elf says softly, his steps soundless as he approaches his friend. “surely you miss him as well?” beleg had known túrin for most of the man’s life - how like a drop in a vast river that time feels to him, though no less precious for it - and knows his mind better than most. he watched him grow from recalcitrant child to restless teen to… well, there were too many words to describe his friend as an adult. bull-headed might be one of them. he had wondered how much of túrin’s refusal in the hidden halls of amon rûdh had been due to the fact of their audience, his gathered outlaws. so here, he hoped, the mask might fall.

the man didn’t respond, for so long that any other might think the question had gone unheard, but beleg knew better. and in his own time, túrin responded, “i did, once. when first i fled and still roamed the forest on my own, oft i would find my thoughts straying back to menegroth. i would wonder if there might be a chance to explain my actions, or if i would even be heard out. i remembered the warm meals around the table, when my belly would growl with hunger. and many times did i find myself recalling king thingol’s wisdom when talking with strangers, or your teachings as i hunted for my next meal.” he shook his head, finally turning to look at his friend. “but it faded, beleg. truth be told, i hadn’t thought of the king or menegroth for over a year when you arrived.”

his hand clenched, the only outward sign of túrin’s internal struggle. how could he forget? thingol, who had taken him in as a child and raised him as his own son. his heart ached to remember the peace he’d felt in his younger years, tinged with the grief of leaving his mother - but that too had faded, hadn’t it? was that all his life was? a series of connections, forgotten as soon as he was separated from them for long enough. even now, he wasn’t sure if he could pick his mother out of a crowd. and even beleg…

túrin looked up, and found the question he expected shining as a star in his friend’s eye. “yes, beleg,” he murmured, looking away in shame. “even you.” i forgot the shine of sunlight in your hair, he thought, daring not to betray his own heart even now. i forgot the way the muscles of your back shifted as you bent a bow; forgot the way your smile lifted my heart. 

beleg was also quiet, the sun starting to set and painting the trees and his hair with golden-red light. it stung to know he had been forgotten, in the time that túrin was gone, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected. he’d been the one to bear witness as a freshly fifteen-summers túrin tore himself apart for forgetting the paths he’d walked as a young child, the sound of his mother’s voice, his father’s presence. he’d wondered then if the tendency to forget after so short a period of time was simply a part of being adan; now he believed it simply to be some unique characteristic of túrin specifically.

“i understand,” he said at last, closing the distance between himself and his friend to place a hand upon his arm. “i did not come here to force you to return, for i know your mind rebels at demands. the king wished you to know that you are welcome home, and now you do.” túrin looked at him, brows raised slightly with surprise at being so understood; beleg placed a hand at the nape of túrin’s neck to bring their foreheads together. “be well, aa'menealle nauva calen ar' malta.”

túrin’s eyes closed at the farewell, and though he leaned forward to meet the pressing of skin to skin, he was still as beleg pulled away and began to make his way westward. the shadows grew long in the forest when he opened his eyes again, watching the wind blow through the trees and ruffle the elf’s cloak. “cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'.” túrin spoke the words quietly, and the leaves caught them to make them silent.

[batsyforyou]

Awww these are all so cute!!! 🥰

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆You Have Heterochromia Eyes

Headcanons: Curufin, Argon, Finarfin, Egalmoth, Thingol and Beleg

A/N: First of the event to go up. Been thinking of doing one with reader having starry eyes, but that’s an idea for another time. Enjoy!

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Curufin

Known for his keen senses, the moment you entered the room, he was able to distinguish the difference in your aura from everyone else, and it was all because of your eyes.

“Your eyes are quite captivating,” he remarks as he stares into your orbs, wondering which to focus on. His inquisitiveness causes him to slightly lean into your space to gain a closer look.

Of course, you respond informing him that your eyes were more unusual than captivating. To which he shuts down politely, informing you that ‘unique’ and ‘majestic’ were the proper words to describe your eyes.

Curufin usually finds it impossible to leave your side, wanting to learn all that he can from you while gazing off into your eyes and getting lost as the conversation continues. He finds it difficult to remain focused, especially when you meet his eyes with an equal stare. “Which eyes should I stare into today?”

As a way of appreciating your eyes, he doesn’t waste a moment launching himself into the forge to whip up a piece of jewellery that matches the shades of your eyes and your personality.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Argon

The youngest Prince of the House of Fingolfin becomes a stuttering, blushing mess as he morphs into a poet while lying about his poetic skills being terrible. He can’t take his eyes off yours to the point that he gets scolded for staring too hard.

He always finds excuses whenever he’s around you to look into your eyes, so he doesn’t come off as creepy. Mostly making jokes or performing some stunts so your eyes can always be on him.

Compliments roll off his tongue ten times every ten minutes because you deserve to know that he adores your eyes and how much they suit everything about you. Loves to make comments about Eru not knowing which colour to give you, so he gifted you the two/three most beautiful.

“It’s almost as if your eyes match your mood as well,” he’ll mumble while pushing his face closer to get a better look as if he wasn’t already an inch away from your face.

As a way of showing his appreciation, he could commission a piece of jewellery for him to wear with the respective gemstones that match your eyes. That way, whenever you’re apart and he looks at it, he’ll remember your eyes (because they’re also sparkly and bright).

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Finarfin

He has seen his fair share of heterochromatic eyes before (his eldest brother), so it wasn’t a big thing when he heard people speaking about yours. That was until he stumbled upon you for the first time and blurted out that your eyes were the prettiest to ever exist, better than his brother.

Finarfin makes it his business to ensure that you don’t ever forget that your eyes are filled with the essence of the Light of the Two Trees, and if anyone disagrees, he’s having none of that.

Poems and songs written by yours truly and recited on the cliffsides or beaches during sunsets and sunrises because your eyes sparkle and light up even more. Gets lost in your eyes, literally, because they’re the windows to your soul.

Loves to observe you as you speak due to your expressiveness which becomes enhanced by your eyes. Every micro-expression, he picks up and fawns over because how can someone look as beautiful as you do when blinking.

Can never be upset with you because all you have to do is pout and flash him those puppy and BAM, the argument is over. It’s worse if you cry because you look beautiful when you do, and he forgets that you’re sad, caught up in your gorgeousness.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Egalmoth

He tells you immediately, right off the bat, that your eyes were the blueprint for the reason behind the name of his House (lies obviously) because he’s starstruck by the magnificence behind them.

Egalmoth deeply appreciates your eyes and the significance they hold (in his opinion). As a Lord of exquisite taste in art and all beautiful things, he makes it his business to turn your eyes into a passionate subject of admiration.

“Your eyes are as captivating as a starlit night,” he would whisper one night while stargazing. “I have never seen anything like them, for I do not know if you should share them with the world or be selfish and share them with only me.”

He can’t figure out which eye he should focus on as you speak because both are equally captivating, it’s impossible to pick one, so you’re stuck with his tropical bird dance. At least he has impressed you, so it worked in some ways.

Like the others, he easily finds himself under hypnosis the minute to flash him a sweet expression whilst using your eyes to do most of the work. Whatever you want, just say the word and Egalmoth will get it for you.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Thingol

“You must be a Maia or Vala, for no ordinary person can possess such beauty all at the same time.” Smooth words to greet you with upon your first meeting, and it did work. Thingol feels as though you have cast a spell and placed him under it upon first sight.

It’s impossible to deny you whatever you want when you bat those pretty lashes and flash him puppy eyes to have your way. You’ve found his weakness, and he isn’t ashamed to say that he enjoys it.

Praises unlike any other and worships the ground you walk on, ensuring that you don’t ever feel ostracised. He wants you to understand that your uniqueness should be cherished and understood.

Like the others, he believes that there must be something extraordinary about you, hence the reason you possess those eyes. It’s as if they enhance a special ability of yours (yeah, getting spoilt).

To him, beyond all the weakness they make him feel, they also bring about a sense of tranquillity, similar to the forest of Doriath. He seldom finds himself strolling throughout the forest, deep in thoughts about you.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Beleg

The moment he met you, he almost fell to his knees, believing that you were some deity come to bless or speak with him. Turned out even better, you were sent to be with him, and he is thankful each and every day.

He claims that whenever he looks into your eye, he sees the forest and suddenly calmness washes over him. It’s as though you bring to forest with you, wherever you go, and Beleg is eternally grateful your gift.

Doesn’t like to disagree with you, so even if you were to agree, those eyes were enough to end the dispute. He crumbles so easily while clinging to you and pouting about not liking the look your beautiful eyes are giving him.

You’ll be speaking to him, and his eyes are just like ←↑→↓ because he doesn’t know which one to focus on. He finds it difficult to focus on one eye when both deserves equal attention at the same time, yet with all the hunter skills he has, he can barely focus on both.

He believes that with eyes like yours, you probably see the world differently, hence why he enjoys listening to your stories of adventures. There is a level of privilege he feels when he is told off the world through your eyes.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @aconstructofamind @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life @hermaeuswhora @eunoiaastralwings

If you which to be tagged, click on the Taglist link to join.

[lamemaster]

The MOVs

AN: I remember making this entire scenario up with @animatorweirdo and this has lived in my head ever since...it's been years I think. RIP Argorn you would've loved this.

Genre: Fluff

Summary: A society of mortals in Valinor

Pairing: Mentioned Maedhros x Reader

You knock twice on the looming wooden door, mimicking the rhythm of Varda's ancient hymn. Glancing around nervously, you wait. A sliver of light appears as the door creaks open, revealing a glimpse of the man within.

“Password,” a gruff voice whispers.

“Eonwe for president,” you reply softly.

The door swings open wider, pulling you inside.

“Dramatic as ever,” you grin, embracing your friend. Tuor of Huor was the only one who knew the secret to a perfect hug in the land of Aman.

You both turn to nod gratefully at your elven escort, the incomparable Beleg Cuthalion. Trusted with guarding the Mortals' secret meeting place in Valinor, he was a master of blending into the crowd. He disappeared into the alley without a backward glance.

Inside, a warm hearth, steaming tea, and tempting snacks greeted you. Bilbo was already eyeing the food with interest.

Bilbo, Frodo, Gimli, Tuor, and the recent additions of Dior, Earendil, Elrond, and yourself comprised the Mortals of Valinor Society,MOVS,  a secret that continued to baffle the Elves. Peredhel, the newest member, added an intriguing element to their exclusive group.

"What support could you need when you have me?" Maedhros asked, leaning over a counter, trying not to overshare his disapproval of the society that seemed to have his spouse, your attention every other week. He followed you around like a sulking cat. Making his discontent clear.

Ignoring his prying questions, you reign in your smug smile wrapping yourself in a warm scarf, “I know I have you,” you stand on your toes pecking his cheek, “it’s nice to have…my kind. Just to talk, you know.” You try explaining without giving up the meaning behind the meetings.

The meetings started with normal gossip away from elven hearing. This soon morphed into an evening full of dirty jokes, card games, unfiltered messy dances, anecdotes, or the simple pleasure of relishing the ardent, unsettling ire these meetings seem to stir in the hearts of the elven population of Valinor.

So, the challenge came to be. Mortals against the immortals. In their home field.

There have been tries of thwarting the meetings, of spying, and figuring out the secrecy behind the doors. But the MOVS, equipped with quite the team of players had been quick to employ their own elven player. Beleg Cuthalion, the only elf with the patience to hold on to the secrecy and never pry into the matters of mortals.

A reliable ally, who had for now been the reason behind the winning streak behind the mortals. His motives- simple, the smile on Tuor’s face that mimicked Turin’s. And that had been enough for your trusted elf.

Breaking away from Tuor’s hug, you wander into the room filled with the hearty aroma of good food. And today’s object of interest is coveted by the looming figures of Dior and Gimli. “That cannot be,” the half-elven man exclaimed.

“It is not possible in that position,” the Peredhel and dwarven master debate over the crudely drawn porn that you truly were not proud of.

All the while you catch Tuor’s fleeting jest- “The man sighed and replied ‘My left arm is stronger than my right arm’ ” To which Elrond stared back at him confused while Bilbo snickered next to a blushing Frodo.

A mischievous glint sparkled in your eyes as you observed the heated debate. "Gentlemen, gentlemen," you interjected, your voice cutting through the tension, "any thoughts on the last week’s fest?"

"They would not stop singing!" Earendil exclaimed animatedly, his face flushed with a mix of exasperation and amusement. "For two damn days, it was like a chorus of larks had taken up residence in my halls!"

Frodo nodded vigorously, his face mirroring Earendil's exasperation. "I believe the verse was too dense for musical notes," he added, shaking his head.

And the hall of MOVS erupted into chaos.

[velvet4510]

I ship every canonical Tolkien couple - except Aerin & Brodda, Aredhel & Eöl, and Tar-Míriel & Ar-Pharazôn. Those poor ladies deserved so much better than those pathetic a-holes. And of course, no Turambar and Níniel, NOOOOO. (Honestly anyone who does somehow ship them needs some serious help.)

I also kinda think Melian could’ve done better than Thingol.

These are the “non-canonical” Tolkien pairings that I ship, since nobody asked.

Frodo x Sam (it’s literally canon, period, forget the “non-canonical” category, it’s right there, it’s real)

Frodo x Sam x Rosie (Sam being shared during that year in Bag End; also all but spelled out)

Bilbo x Thorin (obviously; even in the book, it’s subtextual, but it’s THERE)

Fingon x Maedhros (Beren/Lúthien + Frodo/Sam parallels are no joke; yes yes i know i know they’re first cousins and that should be a dealbreaker, and for a while it was for me, but technically they’re HALF-cousins, they only share one grandparent, and it’s not like they can procreate together, so it’s very different from what it would be if one of them was female)

Túrin x Beleg (also, obviously; just read their scenes and you can tell - ALSO the fact that Túrin never mentions Beleg again after Glaurung’s attack … do y’all realize that Glaurung is canonically a memory-eraser … that dragon wiped his memories of the love of his life and the reason he was triggered into romantic feelings for Níniel was because he saw a blond person lying on the ground under a flash of lightning which was also the way he saw Beleg for the last time and his heart remembered that even though his mind didn’t!!!!!!)

Mablung x Nienor (he just did so much for her and never gave up on searching for her until he then had to live with the knowledge that she was dead and he failed her … she lost all her memories of him and married her brother … the idea that they fell in love in Doriath before all this makes for a practically perfect tragic love story. Best part is he knew and loved her for her real self, whereas Turambar and Brandir both fell in love with an amnesiac shell of herself.)

Finrod x Bëor (yes, Finrod loved Amarië too …BUT look at how Bëor gave up everything to spend the rest of his life with Finrod, and how Finrod lost Bëor to mortality but then laid down his life for Bëor’s descendant; the angst is just too juicy to ignore)

Maglor x Daeron (two nasty but guilt-ridden minstrels who deserve each other, perfect)

I do not ship Merry and Pippin at all; not only are they full blooded first cousins, but since Merry is an only child and Pippin only has sisters, they very clearly fill that “brother” role in each other’s lives.

After a lot of thought, I’ve decided that queerplatonic Legolas & Gimli makes the most sense to me. They also fill the “brother” role in each other’s lives since they both have no blood siblings. I understand why many people do ship them romantically/sexually, but the thought of anything sexual between them just doesn’t feel right to me, personally. Even the thought of kisses just doesn’t seem to fit them, IMO; they’re about mutual respect and sharing quality time, rather than anything physical. To me they exemplify “heterosexual life partners” perfectly. It is important in this shipping-obsessed culture to never undermine platonic friendship.

[silmarillion-stats-polls]

Edit: 67.9% of people support this ship. Most do.

Aredhel x Celegorm

Caranthir x Haleth

Melkor x Mairon

Finrod x Bëor

Túrin x Beleg

Curufin x Finrod

[lovefairymina]

Y/N lying in bed with Beleg on his day off and currently tracing the veins of his arm.

“Your arms are so muscular Beleg, so yummy,” she said before leaning in to bite his arm.

Blinking once, then twice as he slowly became aware of what you were doing, he looked at you. “You know what happens when I return the favour, meleth,” he laughed and unfurled himself out under you, quickly wrapping his legs around your waist and pinning you to him, leading to an explosive round of laughter, before his teeth descended and littered bite marks across your arms as well.

[felagund-the-valiant]

In All Shapes and Sizes - Beleg x shapeshifter!reader

Love comes in all shapes and sizes. Beleg got to experience this first-hand.

Words: 612

Tags: fluff

A/N: a tiny little something I wrote for @doodle-pops underrated character event :D

A chill lay in the air, announcing the slow approach of autumn. The leaves crackled ever so slightly under his boots as Beleg tread the narrow path that led to your shared home, humming absentmindedly. The birds overhead seemed to pick up on his song and joined in with cheerful chirps and coos, entirely unbothered by his presence. A couple of deer trotted through the forest, watching him curiously before going separate ways. He spotted fresh paw prints on the same trail he was walking on – his tracking abilities told him they were left by a fox. A knowing smirk crossed his face, and he sped up his pace ever so slightly, wondering if he could catch up before either of you reached home.

Mere moments later, Beleg heard a rustle in the bushes but couldn’t spot anything moving, or so he thought. A flash of red fur appeared in the corner of his eyes out of nowhere and he felt a pair of arms and legs wrap around his body as you leapt into his arms. He stumbled back a little and let out a breathless laugh.  “Slow down there,” he gasped as he set you back on the ground, but you paid him no mind. “How I have missed you, meleth. Are you well? Any wounds that need tending to?” You scanned his body and did a gentle pat down. “I’m fine, no need to worry.” Beleg stopped your hands from wandering by taking them into his own and smiling reassuringly at you. “You know I’m always careful. And more than capable of tending to wounds, as you should know.” You lowered your head bashfully at his comment, catching the reference to your first meeting.

It had been more than unexpected. One rainy day, Beleg had found himself nursing a poor hurt fox he had encountered while on patrol and was more than surprised when a couple of days later an Elf was sitting in his hut with no sign of the fox. He had heard rumours of so-called shapeshifters from other wardens but never thought he would see one in the flesh, much less fall in love with one. Many a times he had asked you if you wouldn’t come live with him in the city, but you refused, preferring the solitude of the forest to the hustle and bustle of civilisation. It wasn’t difficult for him to make the decision to join you in living in nature and he had never once regretted it. Living with the one he loved was worth more than any comfort the city could ever hope to offer and he had already spent large portions of his life in the forest anyway.

“Race you home?” You asked excitedly and he snorted. “I return after a long watch, and you want me to physically exert myself even more? Also, we both know I don’t stand chance. You just want to brag about winning again,” Beleg teased. In your Elven form he might have been able to outrun you with ease, but foxes were faster than the Elves and he knew you would not pick the easy route for him. You sighed dramatically and he halted any complaints you might voice by bending down and kissing your forehead. “All I want right now is to be home, enjoy a good meal and cosy up with my beloved. Does that sound good to you as well?” You bit your bottom lip and pretended to ponder his request before nodding. You stood on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his lips and interlaced your fingers with his. “That sounds wonderful, actually. Let’s go.”

[mairon-goth-minion]

Intro

(idk what to put here)

-please don’t ask for money, I can’t donate-

Name: you can call me Evan (or Ev)

Pronouns: I don’t really care I’m fine with whatever (slightly leaning towards he/him but idgaf)

Fav music genres: pop, rock, metal, indie, alt rock, punk

Fav color: uhhhh I guess green / black / silver / blue / purple

Fav author: Tolkien (and ao3 writers because that shit is AWESOME)

Joined: I think around September 20th 2024

Fav ships: (oh dear I’m 99% sure I’ll forget one and be disgusted with myself) Kim Dokja x Yoo Joonghyuk, Barty x Evan, Remus x Sirius, James x Regulus, Glorfindel x Ecthelion, Túrin x Beleg, Bilbo x Thorin, Mairon x Melkor, Katara x Zuko, (oh no my mind went blank I can’t remember anymore)

Likes: reading, writing, scrolling on Tumblr, procrastinating, my cat, watching TV, playing video games

Dislikes: spiders, working, being bored

Sexuality: idk probably bi

💍 I’m married guys (my darling bitch, husband is crime, undercooked baguette and sickly victorian child (affectionate) @l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft )

oh here’s a cool name aesthetic that I made for another post and that I really like

Btw I’m a spam-liker XD

[lovelylovebug]

Rules

♡ nsfw and sfw (but nothing "questionable" like e.g. non-con, pedophilia, violence ...)

♡ stay friendly

♡ asks are welcome too, but please direct them to my other blog @elficially-done-with-life

♡ sometimes I won't answer right away, sometimes I will. It depends on how much time I have

♡ only Interactions, if you have fic requests I would be glad if you send those to my blog @elficially-done-with-life

♡ also, only Interactions between reader and characters (both platonic and romantic is allowed)... no character x character

♡ no rings of power characters (because I haven't seen the show yet and won't be able to portrait them right)

♡ Characters:

Valar:

Yavanna, Oromë, Melkor, Nienna

Noldor:

Fëanor, Nerdanel, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, Amras, Celebrimbor, Gil-Galad, Aredhel, Maeglin, Eärendil, Idril, Elenwë, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Lalwen, Findis, Indis, Míriel, Anairë, Earwen, Finrod, Argon, Celebrían, Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Arwen, Finduilas

Sindar:

Luthien, Beleg, Nellas, Elwing

Other Elves:

Glorfindel, Erestor, Rog, Egalmoth, Haldir

Dwarves:

Thorin, Bofur, Kili, Fili

Humans:

Eowyn, Faramir, Boromir, Haleth

[vibratingskull]

Incorruptible

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

Tags : Angst/hurt/comfort, trial, reader is disabled

Nather's trial starts and you're on the witness bench. May justice be in your favor.

FemaleReader x Thrawn

You’re completely and utterly

disgusted.

You’re sitting in silence on the witness bench of the trial, seething as the time goes by. If you needed another proof that Nather was influential you had a whole display today.

Confined at residence.

That’s all.

You look at him in disbelief, comfortably seated in the dock, fanning himself with a satisfied smile, he looks like he’s enjoying himself. A single scar across his cheek is the only proof he got a bit shaked by the interrogators. You dig your nails in the fabric of your pants, fixed on him. Saying that you want to throw your fist in his jaw is an understatement. The media renamed him the butcher of Tyrahn, which appears to amuse him tremendously. 

The church pushed back, lamenting that they didn't know about the situation on Tyrahnn, that such conduct was against all they stand for, that it was an heresy. The Beleg was quickly covered by the community and cleared by trial. Maybe the church as a whole was not a fuckfest of degenerates but each member of Nather's little playground is also a church member. At the start of the trial, the population was outraged and the backlash against the church was huge, in return it started its own defense movement. A lot of families and members left the cult either to create a fresh new church or to cut ties definitively. Other stayed and tried to salvage the honor of the church, denouncing the acts of Nather and his inner circle. In some weird way it actually strengthened the bond between the members, and they started huge protests to defend their faith.

Concerning yourself, this faith is dead. 

You're a witness in this trial, not a victim. You quickly understand via Tarkin's agents that the trial would be about the damages he has done to the Empire as a whole and not to his victims, his "collaterals" as they called you. And despite that, he just lost his position and is consigned to residence, which basically means vacation under the sun for him. Oh, all the other members of this traffic are punished, the mere underlings will be sent to prisons like Narkina 5, but the instigators just got a slap on the hand, protected by Nather Satlove. Your only hope is that the lawyers of the plaintiff are not happy about it and will surely appeal that judgment. 

But for now you're sickened by the verdict, you feel it down your stomach, the inner turmoil bubbling under the surface ready to spill out. You're so angered you feel a cold sweat down your spine. You wipe your forehead with the back of your head when you feel a burning gaze on your neck. You turn back to see Thrawn looking at you with an inquisitive stare. He exposed his testimony in an earlier session some days ago, as you did. It was clear and concise, exposing the fact of the matter, but even a grand admiral testimony was not enough to bring Nather's down, and you had the disagreeable impression it's because Thrawn is an alien. Not only that, the lawyers tried to remove his credibility by bringing his gestion of the attack, that he recklessly threw his troops against Nather's, creating a massacre. You have full trust in Thrawn's strategic abilities and know this to be untrue and grotesque, but the judges don't know him like you do and are sensible to suggestions. Nather's lawyers attacked him on his supposed attempts to raze the city to the ground for a "lowly Lieutenant Commander" much to Thrawn's confusion, he didn't understand the political repercussions this could have and the political trap he just stepped into. For an awfully long moment it became Thrawn's trial until the judge put the court back in order. 

But the Empire is supposed to bring peace and justice, surely it can't contempt itself with such condamnation.

Surely it can't… 

But for now you're witnessing this joke under your eyes, and you're not sure you can take much more of it. 

You silently rise from your seat and squeeze yourself between the different witnesses to get out. You feel two pairs of eyes on you as you discreetly exit the room. 

You walk as quick as you can with your crutches in the prestigious corridors of the courthouse and end up in some sort of square edged by some well maintained bushes. Each of your steps is echoed by the sound of your new metal legs against the stone. You're out of breath, at the end of yourself. You want to scream, to break something, anything to expunge your frustration, this injustice. You sit down on a bench, trying to get back control over yourself but the ire is so strong, it is unbearable. People avoid your bench as your aura is so bitter and dark, or because of your murderous stare. You’re so tired, you want to bury your head under pillows and not wake up for several days. You want to be left alone.

You're squirming and agitating yourself when a hand grabs yours. You spin on yourself, ready to give whoever this is a piece of your mind when you stop dead in your tracks. 

“Thrawn… “

“Why did you leave?” He asks softly. 

You sigh

“Because I couldn't take it anymore, it was too much. Seeing him with his dumb happy smile plastered on his face like that… I couldn't.” 

You feel tears rising. 

“What will I say to Vez? To his family? ‘Sorry, the man who destroyed your lives will live drinking cocktails under the sun ?’“

You fully broke sobbing at this thought and Thrawn embraces you in his reassuring arms. You snuggle yourself against his chest, hugging him back. He caresses the back of your head and the low of your back, cradling you gently. 

“Oh maker, what will I say… “

“The truth, you will say the truth. You owe him that.” He murmurs. 

You cry as you never cried, wetting his elegant trench coat. You ugly cry loudly with no regard for the people starting to leave the law court. You earn some strange gaze from them but you can't care less. 

You hear numerous steps speeding in your direction then suddenly you're blinded by flashes and mics being pushed at your mouth. 

“You're one of the victims of the butcher of Tyrahn ? What are your sentiments on the verdict ?!”

“Do you think the plaintiff should appeal !?” 

“Miss, what can you tell us-”

You yelp and bury your head in Thrawn's neck, trying to protect yourself from the vultures. 

“Miss ! Please just one word !” 

“Enough!” Thrawn shouts “Get out of the way.” 

He pulls you forward, away from the deranged crowd of journalists when some more deliberately put themself in front of you. 

“Miss, just a word on the verdict: do you feel like you and the other witnesses still at the hospital have been heard ?” 

“Move. Out. Of. The. Way.” Thrawn speaks slowly, almost softly but with an icy cold tone sending shivers down even your spine. And his eyes… 

The journalists are taken aback, and even scared. All the flashes stop and they reluctantly move out of the way silently under Thrawn's flaming gaze. Only a faint strangled murmur crosses the group. With an arm around your shoulders, Thrawn guides you to the car, promptly takes off the ground and speedly flies away. 

You let your head against the window with tears rolling down your cheek, eyes roaming aimlessly in the void. 

You sigh. 

“Is it what am I fighting for ? A half baked justice with two speeds ?” 

“If it can reassure you, the plaintiff will most probably appeal that jugement. I had a quick discussion with Tarkin a moment ago and he is dissatisfied with the verdict.”

You have a little snarky snarl. Tarkin vs Satlove, the combat promises to be epic. But it could sign the downfall of Nather, for real this time. You don't want to get let down once again but you can't stifle that little spark of hope. 

You let your head bounces against the window as you silently fly to Thrawn's apartment. It is full of your boxes waiting to be open to finish your installation. You push one out of your way with your foot passively angry. You fall face first on the couch with a sigh, letting your crutches fall on the floor. You curl over yourself, hugging yourself. You hear Thrawn doing things behind your back, respecting your pain by not talking, letting you and your reflections alone.

It was early in the evening but you must have fallen asleep because the next time you open your eyes the sun is high, you find a fuming cup of caff on the tea table beside you and a plaid has been laid over you. You observe the closed door of the bedroom, Thrawn must be working at this hour…

You just take the cup and pray for a fresh start as you sip on the drink.

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