#haldir lotr

[gloomwitchwrites]

Gentle Dark

Haldir x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: romantic tension, yearning, passionate kissing, fade to black, admission of feelings, fluff, light angst

Word Count: 1.3k

On a patrol together, Haldir confronts you about your feelings for him even though you’re promised to another.

A/N: For @childofyuggoth

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

The stars twinkle through the gnarled canopy. White. Bright. Bathing the forest floor with iridescent light. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, savoring the scents of the forest around you. Caras Galadhon dwells behind you, sleeping and silent in the peaceful dark.

You are attuned to every sound in the deep wood, and as you filter through it all, you find nothing out of place or suspicious. But the disturbance of the wood is not of your immediate concern. There are greater trials and closer bodies that seek your attention other than the animals that softly move through the underbrush.

Haldir of Lórien is a beacon in the dark. You sense him before you see him, standing just shy of your right shoulder.

“The night is quiet,” he whispers.

You open your eyes, turn to face him. “It is indeed.”

Haldir’s gaze casually drops to your lips and then back to your eyes. A gentle heat radiates up your body to encompass you in its embrace. You have little control over your body’s reaction to him.

The answering of your flesh when he is in your presence is unfair. It is a cruel joke. You are promised to another, but not one of your choosing. If you had a choice, you would pick Haldir.

Always.

But that is not to be. That is not the path set out before you.

Him standing here next to you, alone in the gentle dark, is agony. The heat of him is so near, so alive that it sends your senses tingling with anticipation. The clashing beat within you is a deafening drum.

Can Haldir hear the racing of your heart? Can he sense your need and your aching tremble?

You hope he can’t, but you also silently hope that he does. What would he do then?

Haldir’s gaze finally leaves you to glance out into the wood. “We should begin the patrol.”

“Of course,” you murmur, inclining your head, allowing Haldir to take the lead.

He returns his gaze to you briefly before taking a step forward to walk between two trees. You follow him at a short distance, watching the distance, keeping a constant pivot. The two of you walk in relative silence, moving like phantoms amongst the towering trees.

At a small clearing, Haldir pauses. You cozy up beside him, a question starting to form on your lips.

“Do you remember this place?” he asks softly, gaze fixated at the center of the clearing. A sharp beam of moonlight illuminates the ground. The flowers glow under its lunar light.

You do know this place. On one of your many patrols with Haldir, he confessed his love in this very clearing. He held your hands in his, kissed your knuckles and each of your fingers. He whispered in a longing of gentle song that soothed your nerves and calmed your soul. In that moment, you didn’t want anyone else, you only wished for him.

But how things change.

“It is etched upon my heart,” you answer truthfully.

Haldir’s silver hair shines like starlight. “I’d like to stay here. My memories of this place are happy ones.”

The two of you have come to this clearing on multiple occasions. It is no coincidence that Haldir’s patrol includes you. He selects you on purpose, and you go with him willingly because you desire the closeness. It will not last forever, not when you’re promised to another.

“We can only linger here for so long,” you remind him.

Haldir sighs heavily, and turns to face you. He has always been stoic. Calm. Even in your presence, even when he whispered gentle words of love to you, Haldir never appeared…desperate.

The look on his face now is anything but calm. It is intense—a billowing storm tightly contained.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you murmur, startled by the sudden change.

Haldir’s gaze goes to your lips, lingers, and then flicks up to your eyes. “Why do you deny yourself what you want?” he asks.

You swallow and tuck your clenched fist behind your back. Haldir’s directness is too much. He knows that this is not of your own choosing.

“You cannot ask this of me,” you answer, hating yourself for sounding so weak.

Haldir entirely shifts his body in your direction. Taking a step forward, he moves into your space. Your back bumps up against the tree next to you. Haldir places his hand against the trunk next to your head.

You are trapped, but by all the stars in the night sky, you do not care.

His scent is woodsy and clean. You lean in a bit, inhaling, attempting to remember his smell since this might be your last opportunity to do so.

“You stay loyal to him.” Haldir bends at the elbow, pressing in. “And yet you know that he lusts after another.” The center of his brow furrows slightly. “Why not be with someone who will always worship you?”

Him. Him, meaning, your betrothed. The one you’re supposed to be with in the end. The selection made for you. This is an expectation placed upon you.

And Haldir is right. He does not love you. While you intend to be loyal in your upcoming marriage, you also know his heart will yearn for another. But you also yearn for someone else, and Haldir is standing right here, questioning all of this, wanting to know why you won’t pick him.

“Sometimes duty comes before happiness,” you reply softly, gaze cast downward.

“Does it?” he counters quickly.

You keep your face turned toward the ground. Stare at your feet.

The two of you have lain in this clearing, limbs draped over and around each other. There has always been closeness between the two of you. There has always been touching, skin pressed to skin, lips brushing but never fully meeting. Yet, the two of you have never completed the act itself.

That is binding. That is forever.

But you see it in Haldir’s eyes now as you sneak a peek of him. That desperate hunger. The desire to be with one person for the end of your days. It is an arrow through the heart, piercing and sharp and stinging.

You wish to satiated it, to admit to what you want most in this world. Because it is him. It is Haldir that you crave more than anyone else.

“I would be breaking my oath,” you reply softly, finally having the courage to look at him directly.

“Would you?” he asks. “You have made no vow. You have created no bond. The choice is yours. Utterly.” He gestures at himself with his free hand. “And I am right here.”

With a shaking hand, you reach up to cradle his cheek. Haldir turns into your touch, sighing gently, and that snaps your resolve, dissolves it like the winter snows melting in the sun. Haldir must sense the change, because the two of you meet, lips finally joining in what they’ve been longing for.

He tastes perfect. Wonderful. A match made for the ages.

Haldir’s hand upon the tree departs, leaving the bark to encircle your waist, to draw your body against his. You do not resist. You surrender to him, opening like a flower, wanting nothing more than to forget all your fears and sorrows in this little clearing.

The night is long, but it is not forever. For now, the two of you can have this.

Haldir drags you even closer, pressing you firmly against him as he learns the contours of your lips. His hands discover the planes of your body, and yet it’s not enough for him. Haldir is charged like lightening across the sky.

The two of you have been denying these mutual feelings for far too long.

This is a tremor. Earth-shaking. A star bursting into dust.

Haldir guides you to the center of the clearing, easily removing his cloak with one hand. He breaks away a moment to lay it down on the dewy grass, reaching for you the moment it fans out to hold the two of you.

You sink down with him, buckles and straps, and armor disappearing as you go.

It is everything.

It is nothing.

It is all you need in the gentle dark.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

[passingfaes]

[ourlonelymountain]

Limbo

Sorrow hung in the air. An overall feeling of heaviness, like being trapped, unable to escape, creeped into her heart. She studied him as he added logs to the flames, the warm glow reflecting off his face.

The scenery felt somehow familiar to her. The pouring cold rain in contrast with the fire's warmth, the shelter and…being there with him.

“I must have loved you very much.” Her whispering voice trembled, and if it wasn’t for his elven sharp senses, he wouldn’t have heard her.

He stopped his actions and stared blankly into the fire for a while. “You did.”

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

Since it is my birthday today, I decided to risk and post this mostly for myself. Just to prove myself that I can.

gif from Pinterest

[autistook]

Craig Parker on the set of Fellowship of the Ring

[dagordagorath]

[metamorphesque]

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

LOTR and Hobbit NSFW headcanons

(I’m in my lotr horny era and this list could probably be added to 😂)

Boromir:

- His favourite position is missionary with your ankles on his shoulders so he can see your body, especially your tits

- Sex during sparring sessions

- Isn’t very rough in the bedroom but when you fuck during sparring he loves to grab you, force your head down and grab your hips hard

- Can be a little subby

- Loves to be put in his place

- Doesn’t like being or giving spanking but isn’t opposed to getting a couple face slaps

- Likes being bossed around but not degraded

- Wants you to call him ‘captain’ in the bedroom

- “Who own your cock, captain? Who fucks you this good?”

- Is a big ol tiddy boy

- Hand over the shoulder and lightly touching your boob

- “Boromir not in public”

- Not super sexual but after a long day he falls to his knees in front of you for you to hold him

- Will say “oh fuck” as he slides into you

Eomer:

- Very typical but loves when you ride him, loves being able to see and grab all of you

- Lots of riding dirty talk

- “Ride my cock hard, darling. Come on and fuck me hard. Use those gorgeous fucking hips of yours”

- Will guide your hips as you ride him

- Seeing you ride an actual horse turns him on too

- Loooovveesss having his hair pulled

- Especially when hes between your legs or against a wall

- Bending you over his desk and taking you by flipping your dress up and fucking you hard

- When you get a bit drunk you grab his ass and biceps and he loves it

- Loves when you tell him how strong he is, like almost over the top flirting gets him for some reason

- “Oh Eomer, you have such big arms” you tell him all breathy and grabby

- Is so sweet and gentle with you

- But

- When he returns from a battle he will fuck you hard and make you scream

- Very possessive

- “Scream my name, baby, let everyone know who fucks you this good”

- Constantly grabbing you to sit on his lap, especially at parties

Legolas:

- Sensitive ear kiinnnkkk!

- He definitely whimpers during sex

- No matter who’s on top or if he’s being submissive or dominant he always says ‘thank you’ when his cock slides inside you

- Loves to run his fingertips over you so gently and sweet

- Could gently play with your pussy for hours

- Straddling him while he’s on his knees is easily one of his favourite positions

- Being able to hold you so close to him

- Loves listening to your heart beat after sex

- Holding you and pressing his head to your chest

- Loves after sex head scratches too

- When he is a sub he loves edging

- Begging little baby

- “Please, ma’am, please let me cum. Please I’ve been such a good boy”

- Is a good boy

- When he’s dominant he’s very gentle

- Doesn’t really fuck you fast but more hard and bruising thrusts

- Mutters things in Sindarin when he’s lost in pleasure

- Whispering dirty talk in Sindarin in your ear, whether you understand it or not

Aragorn:

- Isnt opposed to tying you up but prefers to bond you by manhandling you

- Says such sweet things to you while fucking you hard

- “Oh princess, you take my cock so good”

- Having to put his hand over your mouth while he finger fucks you

- Forced quiet sex

- “Be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. Don’t want these people to hear you do you?”

- For some reason it turns him on when you smoke his pipe

- Doesn’t like to fuck when he’s been drinking but loves to watch how you dance when you’ve been drinking

- It usually ends with heavy makeout session and touching each other but he doesn’t like full on sex when one of you is drunk

- He loves to watch it from afar too, sit in the corner and watch how your body moves

- Even when you dance with Merry and Pippin on top of tables he thinks it’s so hot

- Will just start saying full sentences and dirty talk in Sindarin while he takes you from behind

- He gets so lost that he can’t help himself

Haldir:

- Outdoor sex

- Pulling your hair while he takes you from behind up against a tree

- The good old sensual archery lessons while he whispers in your ear

- Loves teasing you, especially by standing behind you and whispering in your ear

- “Yes marchwarden!” “Thank you, sir!”

- Slight degradation kink but nothing that actually hurts you

- “Oh look at how you blush just from my words, darling”

- Height kink

- Corners you and standing close and above you just to look you down and make you blush

- Fucks you stupid

- Like your head lulls and your eyes go all misty

- Chasing you down in the forest and fucking you when he catches you

- One of the few lotr fellas I can see being into violent fucking

- He’s rough with how he fucks but he’s just as if not more gentle and caring with aftercare

- Degradation to raise real quick

- “Take my cock just like the whore you are” “Oh my darling, you did such a good job, Meleth. Such a good girl for me”

Thorin:

- This man has the biggest breeding kink

- “Give me an heir, my queen. Let me fill your womb”

- Staring you right in the eyes while he finger fuck you

- Obviously throne sex

- Almost cums in his pants when he sees you in your crown for the first time

- Isn’t usually submissive but you can make him do anything when you wear that crown

- Holds you down by your hips while I fucks you from behind

- Will whisper Khuzdul into your ear while he fucks you

- Fucks you rough but doesn’t want to actually ever hurt or scare you

- The second you’re uncomfortable he will stop and hold you, he’ll even sing to you

- Loves to know he can take care of you

- Such sweet dirty talk

- You’re either his queen or his good girl, no in between

Thranduil:

- Is dominant 99% of the time

- Doesn’t always like when you’re on top but when you are he likes to force your hips to move while he fucks into you

- Wants you to say ‘thank you’ when you cum

- Does want to fuck you hard and rough but will wait and double, triple check before even trying

- Face fucking you stupid

- Is so gentle and soothing with aftercare

- Treats you like a sweet princess during aftercare

- Cockwarming while he does work

- Size kink, loves how much taller he is and how his cock barely fits in you

- “Look how your tiny pussy takes my big cock” “oh, darling, I don’t think it will fit”

- If you’re a human he also has a massive age kink

- “You’re such a sweet little girl for me”

- Staring down at you with your face covered in cum

- Not opposed to some good old pet play

- Is both cruel and loving

- Degrades his dirty little slut pet while he uses them just for his pleasure

- Loves having you sit in his lap and have you curl up to him and hold his sweet little darling

- Holds you and kisses you while you ride his thigh

- Strokes your hair while you hump his boot and look up to him with big desperate eyes

Kili:

- Biggest turn on for him is seeing you dance and jump around

- The way your face flushes and your tits bounce makes him crazy

- Loves being both babied and degraded

- If he could live between your tits he would

- Sitting in your lap, panting and whimpering as he thrusts his hips into your hand

- Mutual masturbation

- Doesn’t like to be hurt too badly but does love spanking and overstimulation

- Shows off whenever you watch him train

- Even if he’s shorter than you he still loves showing his strength by carrying you

- Carry’s you to the bath after sex and takes his time washing your body and your hair

- Just wants to be your good boy

- No thoughts, just be good boy and love boobs

- Does not have mommy issues but does have mommy style kinks

- Loves sucking on your nipples

- (honestly that gif does things to me 🥵🥵)

Fili:

- Knife kink!

- He’d never use his knife on you in a dangerous way but does love to cut your clothes off you

- His beard braids feel amazing and ticklish between your legs

- Hand on your thigh always, during sexual times or not

- Polar opposite things will turn him on

- While you’re fighting he gets hard and wants you to grab his hair and use his cock

- When he sees you taking care of babies his breeding kink comes out hard

- “I’m going to fuck a baby into your womb. We’re not leaving until you’re full of my cum”

- Loves to fuck you in the woods especially when it’s risky

- While on the journey to reclaim his home he liked to take you into the woods and fuck you

- He loved that you had to be so quiet but still he could hear your little whimpers

- He is a prince and next in line to the throne so he has to keep PDA to a minimum

- That doesn’t stop him from grabbing at your thigh under the table and whispering dirty things in your ear in the middle of a party

- Playfully slaps your ass while you’re changing

- Skinny dipping 👌🏻👌🏻

- He has no problem keeping you warm 😏😏

Bard:

- Loves to cum all over your face

- Lots of pet names during

- “Oh darling you feel amazing” “cum for me sweetheart”

- Forced quiet sex

- Packing your wet underwear in his bag while he’s away, he does smell it while he touches himself

- Such a dirty man but great at hiding it

- Loves the noises you make when his beard scratches your neck

- Bit of a caretaking kink

- Gets really horny when you massage him, cook for him, bandage him up, wash him in the bath

- Takes you fishing so he can finger you on his boat

[inthiskingdomwewillendure]

The Elves arrive at helms deep 4k

[rivendell-poet]

i absolutely adore ur headcanons posts with the lotr characters but i didn’t know how many characters you take requests for per headcanon post so i’ll keep it very short ehehe

how would the elves (legolas, thranduil, lindir, glorfindel, meludir, haldir and feren) react to human who is just affectionate even before courtship starts? morning hugs, lemme braid ur hair, surprise tackle hugs or see u later forehead kisses? just thought it would be funny to see the elves go beet red with perked up ears since y’know, they’re not as affectionate as humans

thanks so much! (and so sorry for the wait, completely my bad) legit an honour to have you request from me/say you like my works. and I completely agree with the thought being funny, and here it is as headcanons!

(full disclosure, i've written once/not at all for the last three characters - please tell me if they're ooc)

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « headcanons »

○ Legolas ○ Thranduil ○ Haldir ○ Lindir ○ Meludir ○ Feren ○ Glorfindel ○

GN!Reader | TWs : None | Wordcount : 1.3k

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ Depends on if he’s travelled with the Fellowship, or if he hasn’t.

✧ Either way he’ll go still for a second, eyes gently going to you as if to check you’re actually doing what you’re doing. And of course there’s a light blush that’s spreading across his face.

✧ He gingerly hugs you back, unsure whether or not to squeeze you in it like you’re squeezing him. And when you give him a little forehead kiss he simply freezes in your arms. 

✧ Wonders, just for a second, if you somehow started courting and he didn’t realise. Then he simply stays there and gives a smile.

✧ It isn’t forced, just slightly uncertain - he’s never experienced this before.

✧ Later comes up to you and awkwardly thanks you before retreating backwards.

✧ If he’s been in the Fellowship for long enough he starts to reciprocate the gestures on a smaller scale.

✧ Legolas can very easily be convinced to braid your hair as well, and he takes it very seriously.

✧ Lays out his cloak so you can sit on the grass. Does a few small ones so you can see which one is preferable.

✧ When you’re not courting he feels a little guilty doing it - as your hair falls through his fingers it’s almost like you are together. And he doesn’t want to take advantage of that. But he likes you too much to stop, and you braid his hair as well.

✧ Is probably the quickest of the elves to get used to it, aside from Glorfindel.

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥

✧ In an odd way, he’s one of the elves who craves it the most.

✧ Everyone else has some casual touches, a reassuring gesture by a friend. But no-one is brave enough to touch the King of Mirkwood. Until you.

✧ He’s missed warmth, he’s missed the sense of other people that you can now bring.

✧ Thranduil finds himself at first leaning into the hugs, before remembering that he should be proper. That he’s maintained a colder persona for so long. (He still can’t fully hide his reluctance as he pulls away.)

✧ The people who know him well are surprised when he doesn’t admonish you, before they realise why. You don’t understand why the king is suddenly glaring at someone behind you.

✧ Eventually he starts to return the gestures as well, although to start they are more careful.

✧ As begins to braid your hair - the light touches causing some strands to escape and generally become loose - you remind him that you’re not made of glass.

✧ You’ve been able to almost tackle him with a surprise hug, he can touch you with more than a feather-light weight.

✧ Once the two of you start courting he accepts the gestures more easily, although he’ll never become quite as good at spontaneous physical gestures of affection.

✧ Throughout the entire time he remains impressively blush free, although he does tense quite a lot.

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ You’ve seen how the poor elf froze when Aragorn simply hugged him. He’s very unused to gestures like this.

✧ He does like them - or at least, judging by the way he’ll steadily grow red he thinks he does. Or maybe he simply likes you.

✧ You have almost certainly triggered his fight/flight/freeze instinct on more than one occasion with a surprise hug, although he’s getting better at it. There’s a low chuckle, and a small smile when he realises it’s just you.

✧ People being this naturally affectionate is a curiosity to him, but when it comes from you it’s something he’s eager to know more about.

✧ Although the gestures, the small kiss on your forehead in greeting and such, are at first stiff and uncertain he gets better with them.

✧ Half the time when he’s greeting you with a forehead kiss, his lips really want to ask you ‘what are we?’. Or perhaps kiss yours.

✧ Still, Haldir is content to wait for a while. Even if he freezes up, your gestures still mean so much to him.

✧ Things become clearer when you eventually start courting, and all the affection feels more natural to him.

✧ There’s moments where Haldir simply blushes as he stands next to you, but every day the elf becomes more sure of your bond - and gives more expression to it.

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ Also blushes a lot, his breath slightly catching before he tries to amend whatever he’s done. A small cough, or perhaps a bow to you in greeting - a vague hope some of the red will have gone when he comes up again.

✧ How you greet him, the quick kisses or the hugs, pulls him straight into romance stories he hasn’t read (or at least acknowledged reading) since he was a young elfling.

✧ And even then the gestures where between those already together, not like the two of you.

✧ Yet he doesn’t ever draw away, finds his gaze lingering on whatever has occurred.

✧ After the first time you’d braided his hair he’d nervously approached you again, asking if you braid it the following day as well.

✧ What you’re doing is unusual, but he can’t bring himself to care. Even the worries he has about seem to dissipate when you smile at him, or say goodbye with a kiss.

✧ Even after you start courting he still can’t stop his face from blushing horribly. Although he no longer hides it - he’s proud to be that deeply in love with you.

𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ When you first meet him, your interaction is brief. Not too many words exchanged as he talks to you, and then again as you disappear. Except for ‘goodbye’ kiss you give him.

✧ It’s feather light, but as an elf he could feel it so clearly. The brush of your lips against his skin, the way your eyes had sparkled. How quickly blush had rushed to his cheeks.

✧ Meludir lifts a hand to the spot you touched him, almost as if expecting something. But there is nothing, just the memory of your affection.

✧ Unlike the other elves, he can’t help but try to seek out your affection. Returning a friendly kiss with a gesture of his own, even if he can’t quite bring himself to kiss you back.

✧ There’s always a smile on his face after you’ve done something, big or small, and a sprinkling of blush to accompany it.

𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧

✧ The first time you do such a gesture to him he’s quite certain that it’s by mistake.

✧ The second time you do it, or something similar, you can see him freeze for a second (trying to process it) before he turns to you. Almost confused, trying to understand why.

✧ Feren eventually just accepts it, although that doesn’t stop him from getting slightly flustered.

✧ As a diplomat the brief kisses, the friendly greetings aren’t too bad. He can adapt, he can get used to this new social interaction. What he can’t get used to is the more intimate gestures of affection.

✧ You truly see him flustered for the first time when you offer to braid his hair. The way he looks to you, words suddenly gone as you smile at him.

✧ It’s also these interactions he craves more than anything else.

𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥

✧ There is a small part of you that’s, quietly, intimidated by the golden warrior. But when he laughs with you, a rich, lighter laugh than you expected accompanied by a radiant smile, you realise you have nothing to be afraid of.

✧ Still, the goodbye hug you give him is slightly shy.

✧ There’s a moment where he simply lets you hug him, before he ever-so-gently returns the gesture; careful to be light and to not trap you.

✧ The smile he had on his face is still there when you pull away, which gives you a little more confidence.

✧ And Glorfindel is so happy you have the confidence. He’ll still blush when you’re affectionate, but it’s more because he likes you than he’s embarrassed.

✧ (One exception is the kisses, which do turn his ears red. He still looks forward to them from you, however.)

✧ Will return quite a few of the gestures, although like Thranduil you have to remind him that you’re not made of glass.

A/N : Comes back to drop this fic with no explanation, leaves immediately again- Just kidding. I should be back again, sorry for the long wait; I've been very ill & then my laptop broke, so. 2025 been going... interestingly

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan ✧ wish to be tagged?

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[n0tamused]

How elves deal or even feel jealous? What/how easy is to make them jealous?

A/n: Hello, yes I can! You didn't specify which elves you wanted this for, so I just picked a few of the ones I thought would go nicely with this idea. Also, I am trying these different styles of hcs, so let me know if you prefer lenghtier headcanons or shorter ones like these? I'm trying to find some balance with requests and my ability to write them in time.

Contents: (all separate) Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir, Haldir, Glorfindel x GN! Reader. Jealousy hcs, not proof read lol

⋆𓄃Thranduil

-Thranduil can be quite jealous and, more so, protective over his beloved and he does not care to ever admit it. He is quite avoidant of his subjects and feels a bit shocked (or looks like it, he did expect you to point it out eventually tbh) when you point it out to him

-Would make sliding comments about your attention lingering too long on someone, or even something at times. 

-A play of words is sure to ensue if you keep pressing him for his reasons, and throughout he never raises his voice or anything of that sort, he is rather calm and eventually you come to understand that he is enjoying this, both the banter and the attention. This can be sometimes flustering or frustrating when he begins to smirk and offer sass and teasing words. 

-The Elven king has seldom ever expected to ‘fall into’ love like this, or to behave like this while loving someone, but even through his long years of living he is still learning some things. 

-Thranduil is quite wary of others, especially outsiders even if they are his distant kin. So he may keep you away from meetings or tedious dinners with any delegates or visitors that may seem like ‘too much’ for you to be exposed to them.

-He is stubborn, so chances are it would take a long time for him to let up on his views, as he deems it all necessary for your protection and happiness

-But even he cannot deny that he does carry a great weight on his heart and consciousness, and long, late night conversions are not something rare with him. He enjoys them more than anything else because he feels more justified to be vulnerable when the rest of the world falls asleep. He is more open to physical touch as well, and he tells you his worries and his feelings clearly then. 

🍃Legolas

-The prince of Mirkwood is still quite green in the area of emotions and how one deals with them, despite his years. But he is notably much softer in comparison to his father. 

-He would find it odd that he feels this way and would hide it away from you for the longest time until he can bear it no longer. It is like poison to him

-Although you would be able to see it all happening and coming down on him with the way he stares out at nothing, sometimes at the people besides you, the way his lips pull into a deep carved frown and how his jaw sets, almost uncomfortably, even for an elf - especially for an elf. His shoulders are so tense you can put a table on him

-Once he expresses his feelings to you he does apologize as well, he doesn’t want you thinking that he doesn’t trust you or that he believes you’d go behind his back and take the offer of another heart - he truly can’t explain the feelings and where they stem from.

-It’s multiple things all at once - he wants you safe and happy, and the people around may not have the purest intentions, but at the same time he feels odd that you sometimes seem to be having much more fun with someone else than him. So there’s quite a lot to unpack with him, but he is not impatient or unwilling to learn.

♬Lindir

-Lindir is more prone to fits of jealousy that strike seemingly out of nowhere, he is quite dense with it too although not nearly as secretive as he would like himself to be. He may be quiet, but the face he stays quiet with is a completely different story..

-His jealousy does stem from a sense of insecurity in his own ability to be a good partner for you, it eats away at him at times and he can take up to saying witty responses to the individual/s that he perceives as sources of his feelings. He is never malicious of course, neither to you or them, as he understand these feelings can quickly turn to poison

-He may require some more support from you at times like these, and in private he feels utterly defeated in face of his own jealousy. He is not the one to openly ask for attention from you, but at times like these he may ask you questions that may reassure him again. Hold his face in your hands and just kiss the elf, that would be my advice, plainly delivered 

-He would grow flustered at such actions, and he may even give you some sass for it, but he is never refusing your advances at pouring some more of your love on him 

°˖➴Haldir

-The Marchwarden of Lorien is not the most open when it comes to his own emotions and it can be difficult to read his exact trail of thoughts at times. But jealousy is not foreign to Haldir, he knows how it feels and he has long since come to truly dislike(hate) it.

-It is unbecoming of his station and just of his own character in general. Nonetheless, this jealousy he feels holds its roots in worry for your safety rather than any kind of distrust of you, and it's greatly amplified by the distance between the two of you when he is away on duty. 

-Haldir doesn’t act out on his jealousy, although he makes his opinion known if he agrees or disagrees with you on your choice of companions. If he is at home with you, he would also tag along with you, if you so desired or if he just really, really did not like the company you’re going to be with. He knows nearly everyone in Lorien, and so he knows who to be wary of. That is not to say anyone from there would be a liability when it comes to physical harm, he knows that much is less likely to happen, but when it comes to needs that are more from within, love, need for attention - then he is not so sure. He cannot read the minds of others, and everyone changes over time, even elves. 

-His jealousy does lessen up when he is with you, as he is not as worried when he has you in his eye. If there is danger, Haldir would do whatever was in his power to eradicate the source of it. 

-You may notice this particular mood on him by the stiffness of his jaw and the hard look he sometimes directs at no one in general, as if holding an internal monologue with himself over what he’s experiencing and feeling

☼Glorfindel

-The Slayer of Balrogs is not susceptible to jealousy, and he was never a jealous individual to begin with. And that’s also without mentioning that he trusts his partner as well, otherwise he would not be with someone he did not trust.

-After his re-embodiment he may come off as a little clingy - he stays with you for as long as he can, not letting any moment go to waste, even if you are an immortal being as he is. He leaves kisses on your hands and your forehead when no one is around to see, it is intimate and he simply wants you to know that you will always have his love and support

-He is also very clear in his communication with you, and trusts that you’ll tell him if anything is bothering you, although sometimes he does know to postpone telling you something if he believes it could put a strain on you. 

-He is quite free spirited though and open minded at that, just a chill guy, the chillest on this list I dare say

-All in all.. 10/10, would recommend 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[kat651]

How your elven lover kisses you/ shows affection 

ℒℯ𝑔ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓈：

in public he’s a model of maturity. He offers you his hand and holds the door. 

Will occasionally place a kiss on your hand or cheek when he can. 

Will put an arm around you if you’re feeling uncomfortable. 

When alone, he’s still gentle and caring. 

Kisses all over your face. 

Cuddles if you want them. 

Thranduil:

he doesn’t care if your in public, he is going to kiss you. 

Constantly pulling you to his chest. 

Would carry you all over if he could. 

Teasing you constantly. 

Alone he’s insane. You’d think he’s been touch starved.

Holds you in his lap

Neck bites 

Long passionate kisses

Falls asleep with you in his arms. 

Haldir:

isn’t big on PDA the farthest he’ll go is gently holding your hand, but only if you ask him to or he senses your uncomfortable. 

Uses a different tone with you than he does everyone else. 

Once it’s just the two of you, he’s a completely different person. 

Snuggles

Lets you play with his hair (always falls asleep if you do)

Butterfly kisses for days. 

Clings to you like a child. 

Elrond:

Will gently squeeze your shoulder as he walks past. 

Soft smiles when no one is looking. 

Not big on PDA. 

once it’s just the two of you, its gentle snuggles usually while he reads you a book or plays with your hair. 

Occasional kisses on the top of your head. 

Is a softy. 

Lindir:   

to the untrained eye, you and lindir just seem to be good friends but there are signs, though only the people he’s really close to can see the signs. 

He shows you subtle PDA by simple acts of service such as bringing you tea or grabbing something from another room that you may have forgotten. 

If you’re sitting at a table, he’ll occasionally take your hand when he knows no one can see it. 

Once alone however, if you aren’t each others center of attention he gets clingy. 

Pulls you away from what you’re doing so he can have quality time with you. 

Goes from soft and submissive in public to straddling you in the bed while placing kisses over your entire body. Is still gentle with you though. 

Then suddenly, he needs you to baby him and hold him tight. 

Loves to play lay with your hair. 

[my-deer-legolas]

Haldir: Can you please keep your human friends quiet in Lothlorien?

Aragorn: They’re on an adventure, they’re excited.

Haldir: One of them just asked if he can ‘pet an elf.’

Aragorn: *sighs* Yeah, that’s Pippin. Sorry.

[shirefantasies]

LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

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[edges-of-night]

I’m so happy you’re back I adore your writing! I wanted to request one where the reader comforts the lotr characters after they have a nightmare💕

Thanks love

This is a sweet request, anon! It turned out a bit angsty, at least in parts... I hope you’ll enjoy the read ♡

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn frequently dreams of Narsil, Isildur, and the shadows of his ancestors. Those nightmares leave him distraught and at first even disoriented. It takes you a while to get through to him with soft Elven whispers and gentle hands to steady him. When you do, he does calm and holds onto your hand tight and keeps mumbling weakly, “Meleth nín…”

.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Nightmares are worse for Elves than Men, due to their gift of foresight which amplifies the bad things they see in their dreams. The dark future Arwen sees at night haunts her during the daylight, too, but you are there to hold her hands and offer a shoulder to cry on. While she won’t lose hope easily, the shock in Arwen’s heart is deep every time.

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir won’t tell you about his nightmares until he would start crying one morning, seemingly out of the blue. You are there to comfort him with a gentle hand on his back and all the silence he needs to collect himself, before finally opening up about his fears and the nightmares they conjured. “At least I have the certainty you would not think less of me, knowing what you know now…”

.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

You wake by Elrond’s side when his nightmare punches him out of sleep. For long, terrible moments, he was back amidst the fires of Mount Doom, desperate lungs filled with poison smoke and disbelieving eyes on Isildur’s back. Now you can provide him with air and water to bring him back to the cool calm of Rivendell.

.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

It has taken you far too long to wake poor Éomer from his nightmare. His feverish, sweaty, desperate face would have broken your heart had it lasted any longer. But war leaves its invisible wounds, and Éomer wasn’t spared. He holds onto you for dear life as if he was only half-way back to reality, but you tell him everything would be all right.

.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Upon waking her from her nightmare, Éowyn draws her sword at you, staring you down with a fury you have never seen in her usually so kind eyes before. You back away slowly, speaking softly to bring her back to reality and away from whatever has been haunting her. When she recognises you, Éowyn bursts into tears, hiding her face. “Oh, forgive me! Forgive me, love…!”

.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Childhood trauma has often kept Faramir awake, but creeping its way into his dreams was even worse. When he wakes, he needs only seconds to reorientate himself, but would then cover his mouth to not wake you with his sobs. You, of course, are not bothered but concerned by what you hear and offer Faramir to spend the night awake with him until he would fall asleep in your arms as you watch the sunrise.

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo tosses and turns in his sleep with big sighs and sobs which eventually wake you up. You know that Frodo isn’t an easy sleeper, but his nightmare phases still shock you anew every time. You gently wake him up to tell him everything was fine, and at first Frodo genuinely seems relieved. However, you know that the following hours won’t be easy for him, so you keep supporting him with kind words and his favourite tea, taking it easy all day.

.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Nightmares are so rare for Galadriel that she has no way of dealing with them. They bring tempests not only to her heart but Lórien, too. You stay with her throughout and guide her back to the light in the days afterwards. She is weak but leans on you for incorrigible support. Thanks to your care, closeness, and words of affirmation, the Lady of Light can return to her normal life.

.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf’s nightmare has summoned thunder and lightning, keeping you from sleeping. When you try to deliver him from whatever evils keep chasing him, a magical fire flames up. When you try to touch Gandalf’s shoulder again, it diminishes, and you manage to wake him up. The storm is gone almost in an instant, and Gandalf’s face is as soft and friendly as ever. He won’t talk about his nightmare right away.

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

One night, you would hear quiet sobs next to you and realise Gimli was crying in his sleep. He would not wake up easy when you pat his shoulder or caress his arm, but eventually his eyes would open and he’d meet yours with a sad and tired gaze. Perhaps he would like to talk to you about his nightmares of Moria’s fall at a later point, but for now, he is content with you letting him cry without judgement, stroking and kissing his hair gently.

.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Out of fear of giving others leverage against him, Haldir won’t tell anyone of his horrible nightmares. Since your sleep has always been light though, you notice very soon that something is wrong with dear Haldir. While he would deny your offers of comfort rather coldly at first, he eventually asks you to simply listen to his sorrows so that they no longer weigh down his heart. You know how bad the sentiment is for Elves, so you thank him genuinely for sharing it with you.

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

As with all Elves, nightmares are poison to Legolas due to his Elven abilities. Darkness and terror spread in his heart, and it will take him weeks to recover. You are always there to hug and kiss him – physical touch is what comforts poor Legolas the most in these times. He is as restless as ever, but you remind him that he is safe with you. “Indeed, there no fortress in this world where I would be more secure than in your arms, my love.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry always tries rationalising his nightmares, to the point where he won’t allow himself to be vulnerable and let his fear sink in. That is where you can help your poor Hobbit the most: by reminding him that you will always be there for him, no matter if it’s the middle of the night and some random “nonsense darkening his mind”. You sit down with him by a fire and talk about it all.

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

After nightmares, Pippin is often still scared for a longer time. After helping him calm down, you make sure to light as many candles and lamps as possible. Food is also a good comfort for Pippin, which has led you to make strawberry sandwiches at three in the morning twice already. To ground himself further, Pippin would also sometimes sing to you quietly.

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam’s nightmares are intense but thankfully leave as quickly as they come. He usually sleeps well whenever he is with you, and you comforting him after a traumatic dream reminds him why: You take him seriously, sometimes more than he himself does, and don’t ridicule the encounters of his nightmares. Cuddles and a bit of talking usually do the trick, and the two of you fall asleep again soon ♡

[earthlybeam]

Wait, oh my god. If you don’t mind, could you possibly write the oversized tunic prompt for Haldir, Legolas, and/or Thranduil?

Or possibly, their SO in their tunic?

Thranduil, Legolas, Haldir version below.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

The flickering light of the hearth bathed the guest chamber in a warm, golden glow, the shadows of the flames stretching across the polished stone walls and draping the room in quiet intimacy. It was peaceful—until the door opened, revealing the imposing figure of Thranduil. He moved with effortless elegance, his long robes trailing in his wake as his sharp gaze swept over the chamber. For a fleeting moment, his expression was serene, his features carved from ice and marble, betraying nothing. But then his eyes fell on you.

You stood in the doorway, caught in the firelight, the oversized tunic billowing slightly as you shifted under his gaze. The garment—his tunic—hung loosely on you, its fine fabric pooling in some places and clinging in others, betraying the fact that it had not been tailored for you. The neckline dipped low, and the material had slipped off one shoulder, baring the curve of your collarbone and a hint of your skin. The hem barely reached mid-thigh, your every move revealing just how precariously it sat. Though the look was accidental, it carried with it an unintended allure.

Thranduil stopped mid-step, his ice-blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they trailed over you, taking in every detail of your appearance. His expression was unreadable at first, the practiced neutrality of a king who had seen and weathered all things. But then his lips curved into the faintest of smirks, a spark of amusement glinting in his gaze. “Is this…” he began, his voice low and smooth, laced with an almost imperceptible edge, “intentional?”

You froze, your heart stuttering in your chest under the weight of his scrutiny. “Intentional?” you echoed, heat rising to your cheeks. You felt your embarrassment bubbling over, but you did your best to keep your tone even. “You make it sound like I’ve planned this.” You gestured vaguely to the tunic, the sleeves so long that the cuffs nearly swallowed your hands. “I didn’t exactly have many options. My clothes are being washed, and this was the only thing I could find that didn’t reek of travel.”

Thranduil took a measured step forward, the soft sound of his boots against the stone floor echoing faintly. There was something predatory in his movements, though not unkind—a quiet, deliberate grace that left no room for misunderstanding who stood before you. His gaze softened slightly, though his intensity did not waver. “And you thought it wise to wear this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as though the question were for himself as much as it was for you. “My tunic?”

You bristled, a mix of defiance and self-consciousness sparking in your chest. Crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to shield yourself, you tilted your chin up. “It’s not like I expected you to walk in unannounced,” you countered, though your voice wavered slightly under his piercing gaze. “Besides, it’s not that revealing.”

At that, one of his thick brows arched elegantly, the faintest quirk of his lips betraying his disbelief. “Not that revealing?” he repeated, a note of dry humor slipping into his tone. His eyes flicked down briefly, lingering on the exposed curve of your shoulder where the fabric had slipped, then lower, taking in the hem that rested just a little too high for propriety. “It barely clings to you,” he said plainly, though there was something warmer—something almost dangerous—beneath the cool cadence of his voice. “It is… distracting.”

“Distracting?” You scoffed lightly, though your pulse quickened under his steady gaze. You had meant it to sound dismissive, but the nervous edge to your tone gave you away. “You sound offended. Or…” You allowed a playful edge to creep into your voice, though you knew you were treading on thin ice. “Or maybe you’re just jealous that I pull it off better than you.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, your words echoing in the chamber. Then, to your surprise, a deep, rich chuckle escaped him, the sound resonating low in his chest. His smirk deepened, his gaze glinting with what could only be described as admiration. “Brazen,” he murmured, almost to himself, though the amusement in his tone was evident. “Only you would dare to jest with me in this way.”

You took a tentative step forward, emboldened by the flicker of humor in his expression. “Would you rather I cower?” you asked, your voice soft but steady now. “Or apologize for borrowing something clearly too fine for someone like me?” The teasing edge in your tone was deliberate, but underneath it lay something more vulnerable—something unspoken, though not unnoticed.

Thranduil tilted his head, his gaze never wavering as you drew closer. When he spoke, his voice was lower, quieter, as if the moment demanded it. “I would rather you be more aware of what you provoke,” he said, his words measured but weighted with meaning. “For once tempted, I may not so easily let it go.” You blinked, the air in the room seeming to thicken as his words hung between you. He took another step forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. His hand rose slowly, hesitating just for a moment before brushing the edge of the tunic where it had slipped from your shoulder. The gesture was so light, so fleeting, it could almost have been unintentional—but the look in his eyes told you otherwise.

“It is not the garment I mind,” he said softly, his fingers lingering just a moment too long against your bare skin, his gaze locking onto yours with a startling intensity. “It is the thought that others might see you like this. That I might have to share what stands before me now.” Your breath caught, the heat of his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Thranduil,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, “it’s just a tunic.”

His lips quirked into a small, knowing smile, though his gaze never softened. “Perhaps to you. But to me, it is far more than that.” His hand fell away as he leaned in, his face mere inches from yours now. His voice dropped lower, barely more than a whisper, but it carried the weight of a command. “Be more mindful of how you tempt me. You may not like where it leads.” Your heart raced, your words catching in your throat as his meaning settled over you like the heat of the firelight. “Who says I wouldn’t?” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered with the tension of the moment.

For a moment, he froze, his gaze sharpening as if searching your expression for the truth behind your words. His hand, which had fallen to his side, tightened into a loose fist as though reining himself in. Then, slowly, he straightened, the icy mask of the elven king sliding back into place with practiced ease. “Be ready for supper,” he said, his voice cool and composed once more, though his words carried an undeniable weight. “And wear something less… distracting.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel, his robes sweeping behind him as he disappeared into the hallway, leaving you standing there, breathless and warm, the echo of his touch still lingering on your shoulder.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

The quiet chambers of Mirkwood were bathed in the warm, flickering glow of the hearth, the light casting golden shadows on the stone walls. The faint scent of cedar lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest beyond the balcony. Legolas stepped through the carved wooden door with his usual Elven grace, the gentle creak of the hinges the only sound that broke the stillness. His sharp eyes, gleaming with the light of the fire, immediately sought you out.

You stood in the center of the room, hesitant, your fingers brushing nervously at the hem of the oversized tunic you wore. It was one of his—a garment you’d found folded neatly atop the guest bed, clean and soft but unmistakably his. The loose fabric hung down past your knees, its neckline slipping off one shoulder to expose more skin than you were comfortable with. The tunic billowed lightly with your every shift, and though it covered you, the way it clung in places and revealed too much in others made you feel distinctly… vulnerable.

Legolas froze mid-step, his crystalline blue gaze locking on you as if you’d stolen all the air from the room. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first, his expression flickering between surprise, concern, and something far more unreadable. He tilted his head just so, as though trying to make sense of the sight before him. “Is… is that my tunic?” His voice, usually steady and serene, carried a hint of bewilderment, the faintest quirk of his brow betraying his confusion.

You shrugged, trying to feign indifference but failing miserably under his piercing gaze. “I didn’t really have anything else to wear,” you explained, your voice quieter than usual. “My clothes were still drying from the river, and this was here, so…” You gestured vaguely to yourself, feeling the heat creep up your neck and cheeks. “It’s fine, right?”

Legolas stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. The flickering light of the fire danced in his eyes as they roved over you—not with judgment, but with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He stopped just short of you, his tall frame towering yet somehow gentle in its proximity. “It is not… improper,” he said carefully, though the faint flush blooming at the tips of his ears betrayed him. “Though I must admit…” He paused, as if searching for the right words, his gaze drifting to the exposed curve of your shoulder. “It is… revealing.”

You laughed softly, a nervous edge to the sound as you pulled the loose fabric back up your shoulder. “Revealing? Says the elf who walks around in robes with slits up to—” You stopped yourself with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think your standards for modesty are a little… flexible.”

His lips parted in a soft exhale, and you swore you saw the faintest twitch of amusement tug at the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps,” he conceded, his voice low, almost teasing. “But when it is you wearing my tunic…” He trailed off, his words hanging in the air like a string plucked on a harp. “When it’s me, what?” you challenged gently, meeting his gaze, though your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “Do I wear it poorly? Should I have asked for something less ‘revealing,’ your highness?” You added the last part with a playful lilt, trying to ease the tension that had settled between you.

“No,” he said swiftly, too swiftly, his tone softening immediately after. “No, it is not that. It is…” His hands twitched at his sides as if unsure whether to reach for you. “It suits you. Better than I expected.” You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “Better than you expected?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “You make it sound like I’ve been parading around in your clothes for weeks.”

“Have you?” he countered, his voice dipping into something teasing, his sharp gaze briefly flicking over you again. The faintest ghost of a smile played on his lips now, though his posture remained composed, regal. “No!” you said, shaking your head. “I just—” You sighed, gesturing helplessly at the tunic. “It was either this or sitting around freezing in a damp shirt. And it’s not like anyone else is here to see me.” You hesitated, catching the way his eyes softened. “Except you, apparently.”

Legolas tilted his head, his expression gentling further, the faint blush on his cheeks lingering. “I would not fault you for choosing comfort,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “Though…” He reached out, his fingers grazing the fabric where it pooled loosely over your wrist. “I must admit, I am unused to seeing you so… unguarded.” “Unguarded?” you echoed, a small laugh escaping you. “I’m wearing your tunic, not armor.”

“It is not the tunic,” he said, his gaze steady and earnest. “It is… you.” His fingers brushed against your wrist again, feather-light but enough to make your breath hitch. “You wear it with a grace I did not know my garments could possess.” You blinked up at him, momentarily speechless, before narrowing your eyes slightly. “You’re just trying to distract me from the fact that you think I look ridiculous.” He smiled then, soft and genuine, the kind of smile that could break down even the strongest walls.

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, shaking his head slightly. “No, Mellon nîn or shall I say meleth nǐn.” The Elvish slipped from his lips like a melody, and though you didn’t know the meaning, it made your heart ache in the best way. “Far from it.” And for a moment, as he stood there in the firelight, his fingers lingering near yours, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever be able to look at that tunic the same way again.

🏹𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓻

The quiet serenity of the guest chambers of Lothlórien is broken only by the soft crackle of the hearth. The golden light dances on the smooth, pale walls, casting flickering shadows that shift as if alive. Outside, the faint hum of the Elven woods persists, a sound so subtle and ancient it feels as though it could weave dreams.

Haldir steps in, his presence commanding yet measured, as always. His silver hair gleams in the firelight, and his sharp, discerning gaze immediately sweeps the room before settling on you. He stops short, and for a moment, the mask of stoicism that is his constant companion falters. His eyes widen, just slightly, betraying his initial surprise.

You stand there, clothed only in one of his tunics, which hangs loosely around you, brushing against your knees. The neckline dips further than you expected, the fabric slipping off one shoulder to reveal your skin beneath. The garment is clearly oversized, its looseness making it far more revealing than you intended. You shift awkwardly under his gaze, both self-conscious and oddly amused by the rare moment of silence from the Marchwarden.

“Haldir,” you start, breaking the tension. “I didn’t expect you so soon. I didn’t have time to… change.” Your voice carries an air of calm, though your heartbeat quickens. His gaze snaps to yours, his usual composure quickly returning, though a faint flush lingers high on his cheekbones. “I see,” he says, his tone carefully even, though there’s a tightness to it that suggests he’s restraining himself. He takes a step closer, his eyes darting—unbidden—back to where the tunic slips off your shoulder, exposing a sliver of collarbone.

“I trust,” he begins, clearing his throat as if to steady himself, “that you are aware how… unconventional this attire is.” His voice is low, calm, but there’s a tension beneath it—a mix of protectiveness and something more hesitant. “Such a sight might… cause distraction to others. Particularly in my halls.”

You arch a brow at him, crossing your arms over your chest, which only causes the tunic to shift further, sliding a bit higher on one leg and baring more of your skin. “Your halls?” you counter, a faint smirk playing on your lips. “And here I thought these were the halls of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn.”

Haldir’s lips press into a thin line, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He takes another step closer, his voice softening but losing none of its authority. “You know what I mean. Such…” he gestures vaguely at your attire, clearly uncomfortable even addressing it, “an ensemble is not… fitting.”

You tilt your head, letting the smirk grow. “Oh? And who decides what is fitting, Haldir? You?” There’s a playful lilt to your tone now, and you can see the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, as though he’s torn between exasperation and amusement. “It is… unbecoming,” he insists, though his voice has lost some of its sternness. His gaze flickers once more to the slipping neckline, and he quickly averts his eyes, clearly wrestling with himself. “What if one of my brothers or the sentries had seen you like this?”

You take a step toward him, your bare feet silent on the stone floor, and tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “But they didn’t,” you say, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re the only one who’s seen me like this. Shouldn’t that be enough?” Haldir freezes, his breath hitching at your words. For a moment, the guarded walls he keeps so firmly in place seem to crack, and he looks at you—not as the Marchwarden of Lothlórien, but as Haldir, the Elf who feels so deeply yet shows so little. His lips part slightly, as though he’s about to say something, but no words come.

You take another step closer, your movements deliberate now, emboldened by his reaction. “Haldir,” you say, your voice softening, “you don’t have to pretend to be so composed all the time. It’s just me.”

He exhales sharply, as though your words have pierced through the layers of his restraint. “You test my patience,” he murmurs, though his tone lacks any real bite. There’s something almost tender in the way he looks at you now, his gaze lingering on your face, your eyes, before flicking back to the tunic once more. “You… shouldn’t wear things like this,” he says finally, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Not when you don’t understand what it does to me.”

The confession hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you’re both silent. Then, a slow, mischievous smile spreads across your face. “Oh,” you say, your tone light but pointed. “And what does it do to you, Haldir?”

He steps closer still, his composure unraveling further with each passing second. The faint flush on his cheeks deepens, and he looks at you as though you’re the most dangerous thing he’s ever encountered. “It makes me forget my duty,” he admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that is something I cannot afford.”

You reach out, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. “Maybe forgetting your duty, just for a moment, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Haldir’s breath catches again, and for a moment, you think he might close the remaining distance between you. But then, with a deep inhale, he steps back, his usual composure snapping back into place like a shield. “You should change,” he says, his voice firmer now but still soft. “Before someone else sees you.”

You watch him for a moment, the tension still palpable, before nodding. “As you wish, Marchwarden,” you reply, a hint of teasing in your tone. As you turn to gather your clothes, you catch the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—a smile that’s gone almost as soon as it appears. But the way his eyes linger on you, even as he tries to compose himself, tells you that you’ve left him thoroughly shaken.

[evilyaoiblast]

Got Aragorn and Haldir for the random pairs wheel, aragorn finds him in time