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meganlpie · 3 years ago

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Helm's Deep

Based on this request: Lady Meg! 💜💜 may I request an Aragorn x female!Reader platonic fic? I’m trash for drama and action so I was thinking a rescue-ish fic. The reader and Aragorn have known each other for years (since his and her time at Rivendell) and at the battle of Helms Deep he sees her struggling against some Uruk-Hai alongside Haldir (her father figure). Aragorn makes it in time to save her. Then after the battle a bit of fluff/comfort for both of them loosing someone they care about? Thanks, lovely! from my dear Lady Kate @iwillbeinmynest

Here you are!! My apologies for the wait! *I do not own ANY LotR characters. They are the property of Tolkien!*

Warnings: Angst...just angst. With a semi-happy ending?? I hurt myself writing this, okay? Mentions of battle, violence, blood, death.

Pairings: Aragorn x fem!reader (platonic), father figure Haldir

You knew the cries of the Uruk-Hai were a sound you would never forget the rest of your life. They echoed all around you as you fought against the enemy with everything you had. Steel met steel, arrows sunk into flesh, battle cries carried on the air from both sides, wood splintered, and stone crumbled. All these sounds met your ears while you gave it your all protecting the people of Rohan sheltered in Helm's Deep alongside your dearest friend and the elf you'd come to see as your father.

Rain clouded your vision, but you were practiced with your bow and nearly smiled in satisfaction when you heard yet another arrow met its mark. Still, the legion of Uruk-Hai were closer than you wanted. It was time to abandon your bow in favor of your sword. You unsheathed your blade and made your way to where Haldir was fighting.

You fought long and hard, but soon came to understand that you were outnumbered. Retreat was the only way. Unfortunately, you all realized too late and were overcome by the sheer number of Uruk-Hai. Arrows whistled as they flew passed your ears. Every swing of your blade as met with another. Your muscles were sore. Your entire body was beginning to betray you. Haldir saw this and acted.

You felt yourself being pulled up a set of steep, stone steps as more of the enemy's arrows met their targets and more Uruk-Hai infiltrated the stronghold. You had no idea how closely you came to death until you heard the ringing of steel above your head. You glanced up to see Aragorn standing over you, his own blade dripping with rain and blood.

He helped you to your feet only to freeze in place. You opened your mouth to thank him, but noticed his gaze was not on you rather on something behind you. You turned just in time to see Haldir falling to the smooth stone below his feet. A strangled cry escaped your throat as you leapt forward, running your sword through the Uruk-Hai that had dared to take your father away from you.

Aragorn tried to pull you away, but you slipped out of his grasp, collapsing to your knees next to Haldir. He smiled up at you and whispered something in his native tongue before he breathed no more. As tears began forming in your eyes, you softly told him goodbye.

Your grief was short lived for the moment as Aragorn once again pulled you to your feet and began practically dragging you away from Haldir's lifeless form and into the stronghold. Your body moved almost mechanically for the rest of the night and, when the sun rose, there was Gandalf with the Rohirrim at his back. The battle was won that morning and that evening was a celebration, but your heart remained heavy.

At first, you remained by yourself off to the side of the celebrations. Haldir's death weighed on you. If he hadn't been trying to protect you, would he still be alive? Or was his death at the hands of the enemy fated? The questions and guilt bounced around in your head and heart until it was almost too much to bear. You needed to get away from everyone.

You were stopped by Aragorn. His eyes regarded you with concern. You simply shook your head, not wanting to speak. You couldn't. If you did, you knew you'd start crying. There was no time for tears in this war. You knew that. But apparently, Aragorn didn't agree.

He took your arm in his and lead you from the room, stopping to grab two bowls of food along the way. You let him lead you silently until you were once again outside to the ramparts. The horrors of the night before had been completely erased except for the funeral pyres of your loved ones. From where you stood, you could see Haldir's.

"It is alright to grieve," Aragorn told you, "Haldir would expect you to grieve instead of keeping it locked away. Keeping it a distraction." You grew angry for a moment. How dare he tell you what Haldir would expect?! You turned to yell at him, but were met with a soft smile. It was times like this that you remembered how well Aragorn knew you. He had been your friend and confidante for a very long time.

"Let it out, Y/N. Grieve and let Haldir be at rest." At those words, the dam broke and tears fell down your face. Aragorn set the bowls down and opened his arms without another word. In an instant, you hugged him close. You often forgot that you weren't made of stone, but like a brother often would, Aragorn would vex you until your emotions had no choice but to show themselves. That's what was happening now.

You cried until you had no more tears left in you. Aragorn never said a word, but you swore at one point you felt tears in your hair. It dawned on you that he needed this too. Not even the comfort, exactly, but the permission to let go of everything for just a little while.

When you were all cried out, you let go of him. "Will we survive this?" you asked in a soft voice. Aragorn smiled again. "I do not know. But we will not let Haldir's death be in vain. Nor any of the others. We will protect each other and we will fight for the world. And, should we survive, we will be entirely changed." You nodded. "But we will fight?" Aragorn chuckled and agreed. "We will fight," he repeated, picking up and handing you a bowl of stew, "For Haldir." You tapped your bowl against his.

"For Haldir."

(a/n: I hope you like it even though it broke my heart to write it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @esoltis280 @motleymoose @dark-angel-is-back @stories-by-shanna-p

Tolkien Tags: @jotink78 @thealbersclan @wanderinglittlefangirl @justcallmecinammon @evyiione @legolaslovely

#tolkien #lord of the rings #lotr #aragorn #aragorn x reader

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 4 years ago

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Imagine helping Legolas deal with a sprained ankle

It was all your fault, so Legolas would say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” Aragorn asked right away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not hungry,” Legolas grumbled.

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

“Not. Hungry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he was already marching on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not your problem!” Tug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asked gently.

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

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

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

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

You smiled warmly, and helped him up.

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

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

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faerune · 3 years ago

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16 for ceridwen & legolas 👀👀

— a kiss on the back of the neck

The moment before she let loose her bowstring, that was the feeling she was seeking.

The tight anticipation, the silence. The world narrowing down to the steady inhale, exhale of her breath. She could feel the wind at her back, the brush of a stray hair at her cheek. The knuckle of her forefinger resting as a firm anchor just below her cheekbone.

"You're restless, órenya."

Ceridwen's finger slipped from her bow string and the arrow shot like a bird from brush, across the courtyard till it stuck solidly in the larger outskirts of her target.

Her body unfurled, her held breath leaving her in a soft curse.

She turned to find Legolas, leaning and languid against one of the courtyard's pillars, watching her.

"Perhaps because of the princeling lurking after me," Ceridwen answered dryly with a little crook of her lips. Legolas returned a smirk and wandered over, turning her to her side again before placing himself behind her.

He steadied his hands on her hips after tapping her shoulder, signaling her to string her bow again.

"I do not lurk," he bemused, warm breath at her ear.

Ceridwen pleaded for her heart to stop its rapid fluttering as she strung another arrow.

"What would you call it, then?" she asked.

"Pine. Lovingly gaze," he replied, peeking his face over her shoulder so she could properly see his lighthearted, cocksure smile.

Ceridwen smiled and fondly rolled her eyes, forgetting her stance for a moment to tap her elbow back against his chest.

“Go on then. We can not have you lose your skill.”

“That would delight you.”

His mouth was back at her ear again, raising goosepimples on her arms.

“I have grown fond of how you look flushed with victory.”

Ceridwen opened her mouth in retort but he tapped her gently on the hip, “Focus.”

She let out a huff and nocked her arrow in a clean, practiced motion.

Legolas' hand placed flat across her stomach, his other still at her hip, and for a moment, they breathed together all playful bicker lost between them. In, out.

It came again. That cool, easy calm.

In. Legolas' hand pressed into her lower belly to ground her.

Out. His chest solid behind her, a frame for her own body.

He did not help her or readjust her. Despite his prodding, Legolas respected her skill. Ceridwen did not mind the excuse to be close either.

Ceridwen loosed on an exhale, the arrow soaring to find its mark at the very center of the straw target this time.

She grinned and straightened, resting the bottom of her bow on the ground to give her hands a rest, cradling the top between her palms.

Ceridwen felt Legolas push her heavy braid over her shoulder and his rose-soft lips brush against the back of her neck.

“Good. Feel better?”

Ceridwen turned in his grasp, staring up at him an uncharacteristically soft and grateful look upon her.

“I fear I am the only one unhappy even when this war is finally done,” she confessed.

Legolas clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“War is not so easily forgotten,” he told her evenly, brushing a stray hair from her face, letting his knuckle drag against her cheekbone. Ceridwen’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch and she dared to lean into his hand that unfolded to cradle her cheek.

“And you have been at war longer than most.”

Ceridwen’s eyes fluttered open to gaze up at him, laid bare by his words.

Suddenly, Legolas quickly stepped back from her, folding his hands behind his back. He stood straighter, as he had been bowing over Ceridwen like a flower to the sun.

Before Ceridwen could catch her breath, her look in askance to him only answered by a small apologetic smile, the doors opened.

“My lady, King Elessar wishes to speak with you in the main hall,” bowed a breathless servant quickly. No doubt the poor girl had been looking all over the keep for Ceridwen.

“Of course,” she nodded, racking her bow and pulling off her leather gloves. No doubt Aragorn wanted to speak about the trip to Endoras to escort King Théoden to his final resting place.

As Ceridwen passed Legolas, she asked as soft as can be, “Tonight?”

“Tonight,” he smiled softly with a nod though the reluctance to her departing was clear in his eyes, bowing to her exit.

It left her with a small, unshakeable smile that carried through the rest of her day.

#is anyone in character? no #am i having a good time? YES #soph thank you so much oh my god i love writing them they're so #clenches fist #ship: thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more #writing*

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tyrantisterror · 1 year ago

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#i've said before and i'll say it again: one of the great skills stephen king has is establishing his characters before the horror starts#establishes them as well-meaning as losers as goofy as loving#and then when they are threatened by the horror force in a story - when the creeping dread sets in - you get scared because you're#scared FOR THEM#because you care#a lot of concepts in stephen king novels would be ridiculous in a different context - or with a different writer#a lot of things in IT are objectively stupid and not scary#and yet i ended that book scared of manholes and orange pompoms#because i cared#he established the warmth of the characters and the characters as vulnerable people you want to root for - and not just#because they're kids#there were plenty of unsympathetic kids in that book#and then the horror was more horrifying because it threatened something you cared about#he established the warmth and it made the cold of the horror more horrifying in contrast#it reminds me of that post that goes around sometimes about how people copying tolkien often end up with stories that don't work as#well because they try to make aragorn the hero rather than the hobbits#and try to make it a power fantasy rather than a struggle#vulnerability - well-written - hits harder than power#you need a balance - but if you forget the vulnerability you're probably not going to have the impact you want#or much impact at all

@purplehairsecretlair thank you for letting me do the "how dare you leave that good analysis in the tags!" thing!

I feel like Godzilla Minus One is the clearest example I can give that any monster, no matter how well-known and "unthreatening" they've become in pop culture, can be an effective source of horror if you make them menace characters we actually give a shit about. Like, for all the directors and writers who want to blame well known monsters for no longer having the element of surprise and thus no longer being scary - "Oh, the xenomorph is the problem, people know it too well to be scared" "Oh, vampires can't be scary anymore, they're too corny, too overexposed" et cetera - it's pretty clear that the real problem is that they didn't want to put in the work to make us care about the characters the monster is menacing. It's a skill issue, honestly.

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Evil Does Not Sleep

Pairing: Leoglas x Reader Ft. (platonic) Aragorn & Gimli

Warnings: Mentions of blood, mentions of torture.

Summary: The Fellowship was broken. You were stolen amidst a battle and held captive by Saruman within the walls of the Second Tower of Isengard. Now, that you’ve escaped, you finally make it to Helms Deep.

Blood trailed your footsteps onto the grey stone as you walked deeper into the realm of men. You didn’t know them. All you wanted was to find someone you trusted, someone who cared.

Your ragged and ghostly state drew the attention of many and soon, the whispers grew. You didn’t know what you would find at Helms Deep. You heard Saruman speak of destroying it and that Aragorn was present which quickly became the hope that you clung on to.

You didn’t realise that your thoughts had brought your legs to the Keep of the mountain fort. You half-expected the doors to fly open, but you did not look like yourself and were questioned by the guards.

“What business do you have with the King?”

Looking at the men, you stared at the one who spoke, almost forgetting that you had a voice.

“(Y/n).” You whispered, feeling the painful scratch from your dried-up throat. “Gandalf’s apprentice.”

The men’s eyes widened and they clamoured over one another, rushing to open the door and let you pass.

Warmth from the room hit your exposed skin like a furnace, the step onto the smooth ground pricked your bare and sensitive feet. You felt more pain in your body in the King’s hold than you did running through the forest.

You saw King Theoden at the very centre of the room, drawing close with each breath. Then you started to notice more familiar figures to his side. A stout red-bearded dwarf and a man with a firm and regal posture. The dwarf was the first to notice the additional person and you saw the colour drain from his face.

“Bless my beard.” He exclaimed, prompting the man to his side to turn. Aragorn felt his blood run cold at the sight too. He knew of the evil of Saruman but never had he thought to see it being inflicted on someone he regarded like family.

Taking a step forward, Aragorn whispered your name but his voice was quickly drowned by a third voice - a much louder one.

“(Y/n).” The sound of swords clattering to the ground filled the air from behind the King.

Your attention was pulled to Legolas Greenleaf and you froze entirely. He abandoned the weapons at his feet and ran over as fast as his feet could take him. He dared not wait to place a hand over your cheek and one over your waist gently. His eyes filled with love and fear and anger.

“What have they done to you?” He asked. You wanted to speak - to explain - but seeing three people that you cared for proved to be too much. Emotional and physical pain overwhelmed your senses and you fell forward, clutching onto the elf as a quiet sob escaped your lips.

All you wanted was to close your eyes and rest in his arms, safe and away from the war. Legolas was the same. He had been parted from you for too long. He wanted to take you away from the impending battle on Men. In his thoughts, he had not realised that Eowyn had been called upon to take you to be cleaned up.

“My Lord?” She requested. Legolas squeezed gently around your shoulders before relinquishing his hold. As reluctant as he was, he knew that you needed to heel before the darkness approached their doorstep. Very carefully, he helped Eowyn take hold of the wizards apprentice and as just like that, you were taken from him again.

Eowyn helped you bathe and dress, growing worrisome when she saw the scars on your body. Bruises littered your skin while stab wounds were held together with thick staples. Eowyn did not speak of it, instead she led you to an empty room and let you sleep for an hour.

You woke with a startle.

You didn’t remember when you had been placed in a bed, nor did you remember how long you had been asleep. Slowly, you sat up and pulled the covers off. Looking around, you found some clothes laying in wait for you. Carefully, you dressed yourself and walked over to the door, pushing it open.

The sound of metal filled your nose and goosebumps trailed up your skin. You recognised the uneasy feeling - war. Helms Deep was on the brink of a battle.

Turning a corner, you walked past several soldiers who rushed by with swords, shields and spears. Fear started to creep into your muscles at the thought of another battle - you barely survived your last one.

Slam! A body smacked straight into yours as you rounded a second corner.

Stepping back, you shook your head and blinked the stars away when the other person placed their hands on your shoulders.

“You’re awake.” They said. Looking up, you found yourself staring at Aragorn. He looked exhausted and battle worn. “How are you?” He asked.

You glanced around the corridor and at the mess that had become of the Men.

“I don’t know... what’s going on?”

Aragorn took in a deep breath and seemed conflicted on whether to tell you the truth. Placing a hand over your back, he guided you outside onto the fort. The rabble outside was far worse than what you saw within the Keep walls. Old men and young boys were being shown their defence positions by soldiers, catapults were being pushed into place, women and children were being ushered off the lower levels. They were preparing for a siege.

Aragorn led you to the top of the wall where you could see beyond the stone.

“Saruman plans to attack.” He explained. “We are preparing a defence to hold them back but they will be upon us by nightfall.”

You placed your hands on the cold, rough stone and closed your eyes.

“Where do I stand?” You asked. A second pair of footsteps joined them and you felt his Elven aura radiate.

“You need to join the women and children in the mines.” Legolas said, his voice quiet and serious.

You opened your eyes and turned to the Woodland Prince and Aragorn - if they thought that you would sit on the sidelines, they were mistaken.

“I won’t.” you defied. “You need me out here while help is in short supply.”

“(Y/n), you’ve barely rested upon your return. Your wounds have not healed.” Legolas had strong arguments - valid points too - but you could not stand by idly while Saruman destroyed lives again.

“I have been at the mercy of evil for too long. Let me turn the tables. I have strength enough for this.”

Legolas frowned and looked to Aragorn for some back up but the rightful king of Gondor bowed his head in respect.

“You are the maker of your own decisions. I trust that you understand the toll this will take on you.”

“I understand. Trust me, the Uruk-hai from Isengard will not see tomorrow’s sunrise.”

Aragorn could say no more on your choice and patted your arm gently before taking his leave. You turned to the Woodland prince and saw that he had not taken his gaze away from you. “Legolas, I’m fine.”

“I heard Lady Eowyn describe your wounds to the court. (Y/n), you were barely held alive with those Orc staples.”

“I did what I had to then and I shall do so again now.” You replied, looking out at the soon-to-be battleground.

“But-”

“Evil does not sleep and nor will I.”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #theladyofmanyfandoms #gif is not mine #legolas x reader #legolas imagine #legolas greenleaf x reader #legolas greenleaf imagine #aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine #gimli x reader #gimli imagine #lotr imagine #lotr x reader #lord of the rings imagine

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rosemary-morgan · 4 years ago

Text

Boromir X F.Reader - Crying heart

(Pictures found on Pinterest - Collage made by myself)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

Summary: After you almost lose Boromir, you avoid him so as not to experience the same pain again. The thought of seeing Boromir die in your arms again scares you incredibly. But Boromir doesn't want to give up on you so quickly ...

Warning: Angst, mention of death (I guess), but also some fluff ♥

Crying heart

"Boromir... Boromir?"

She was in complete shock as Boromir lay bleeding in her arms. The man she had learned to love. Now he was to pass away from her already? Bitter tears ran down Y/N's cheeks as she stuttered and tried to formulate a half-understandable sentence. She wanted to tell Boromir that everything would be fine and that everyone would take care of him. He would just have to endure, to wait out the pain a little longer, and yet the young woman knew that Boromir had forfeited his life. Three arrows were stuck in his chest. Three arrows that those damned Uruk-hai had fired. Y/N didn't want to believe it was over. She couldn't believe that Boromir was dying. Y/N didn't leave his side, stroking through his dirty blond hair, which was stained with mud and blood.

"You are not going to die now. Do you hear me? Don't you dare!"

Boromir smiled up at her, he seemed so peaceful despite the pain and that was only because he saw the young woman's face. He saw her tears, he saw her pain.

"Y/N... I..."

Talking was hard for him. Very hard. The only thing he could do now was to enjoy the last moments with her. There was something comforting about dying in her lap. He was not alone. Y/N was with him, Aragorn was with him. He was not alone and he would not end up like a lonely dog.

"I love you..."

It was three little words that caused an incredible feeling in Y/N. Happiness, but also sadness and unbelievable anger that life had decided to take Boromir away from her. Eventually, the young woman burst into tears and sobbed in reply, that she loved him too. She had wanted to tell him so many times how much she loved him, but had never found the right moment. And now? Now she would have nothing more of Boromir. Their story together ended before it had begun. That Y/N returned his love meant everything to Boromir and he smiled as he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent once more, feeling the warmth of her body. There was nowhere he would rather be than with her. The battle against the Uruk-hai had been turbulent, wild and risky, but now it no longer mattered.

Aragorn remained somewhat in the background, out of respect for their togetherness. But the words of Boromir had not escaped the ranger, and it pained him to see that the love of these two people would be destroyed. Aragorn thought of Arwen, thought of how terrible it would be to lose her. And that is exactly what happened between Y/N and Boromir. He lay dying in her arms and her pain had to be unimaginable.

"I love you, Boromir!"

Sobbing and full of despair, she hugged Boromir to her as she rocked him back and forth. He couldn't be dead, he wasn't allowed to be! Bitter tears ran down her face, mingling with her own blood and dirt.

Y/N felt Aragorn's warm hand on her shoulder, felt him squeeze her and express his sympathy without words. However, Aragorn knew it was time to say goodbye to Boromir, even if it was hard for him too.

"Y/N... I am so sorry..."

"He can't be dead... Oh, God... No, no!"

Her pain was clearly audible and it literally froze the blood in Aragorn's veins. Aragorn knelt down to Y/N, caringly stroked her head, and looked to his friend Boromir, whom Y/N was carefully laying in the dry leaves. Her face showed her pain, and her tears had left definite marks on her cheeks. She would never forget him. She would never forget her first love and in all probabilities, she would not get over this enormous loss. Y/N was convinced of that. A soft sigh escaped Aragorn when he saw the expression on her face. The strider wished there was something he could do, and yet Aragorn knew that no words could have comforted her at the moment. Just then, Aragorn sadly turned his eyes away from Y/N and caught a glance of Boromir. Instantly, Aragon's sad expression slipped away and his eyes grew wide.

"He lives," he whispered, almost shocked. "He is alive!"

When Y/N heard that, she couldn't believe it at first, but now hope burned within her. She watched as Aragorn took Boromir in his arms and looked for any sign of life. So Aragorn brought his face closer to Boromir's and he heard the breathing of the supposedly dead man.

"He lives, Y/N!"

Relief was evident in the strider, however, Boromir was badly injured, so they had to take good care of him and not expose him to unnecessary danger. However, they all had to keep in mind that the little hobbits were in the hands of the Uruk-Hai...

Two days had passed. Boromir was still not conscious, fever plagued the man. Y/N never left his side, taking care of Boromir and forgetting to sleep or even to eat. Aragorn sat together with Legolas and Gimli at the warm campfire, which they had lit for the protection of the night. The Ranger watched Y/N, worried about the young woman since she was by Boromir's side all the time. Aragorn and the others had offered to take care of Boromir, but she had refused, assuring them that they need not worry about her. However, you could tell the young woman was very tired and in urgent need of sleep.

"We can't risk putting Boromir in danger."

"So, what do you suggest, Aragorn?" the blond Elf asked, glancing at Boromir before turning back to the Ranger.

"With each passing minute, Pippin and Merry are in the greatest danger. However, one of us should stay with Boromir and Y/N," Aragorn replied, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing flames.

"I will stay with them!"

"No, Legolas. I need you to go in search of the two Hobbits. Neither Gimli nor I, have eyes as sharp as yours. I will stay."

"What?!"

Gimli grumbled lowly as he looked up at the blond elf. However, the dwarf understood Aragorn's decision and also that Y/N could not be left alone. While she was good with weapons, she still had a sick Boromir at her side to protect. It was a difficult situation, but Merry and Pippin could not be left to their fate. The group had to split up.

"Ngh... All right! Me and the young elf will go find the two boys."

Aragorn was pleased with the decision and gave Gimli a gentle smile. But now the ranger had another matter to attend to. Calm and understanding as he always was, he went to Y/N to speak with her.

"You should rest. You don't have to carry this burden alone, Y/N."

"It is not a burden for me, Aragorn. I just want him to get better."

"We all want that. But you have to understand that we can't afford another patient."

He meant her, and Y/N knew it. In the end, she understood and she also thought of Merry and Pippin. Worrying about Boromir was stressful enough, but the fact that they hadn't found the two Hobbits yet was also scary. All of them were aware that they would put Boromir in a dangerous position as soon as they would find the Uruk-Hais. But what could they do? Boromir, the little Hobbits, all of them were dear to them and they didn't want to leave any behind. The only option was to split up among themselves.

"I know" she whispered weakly, and now she too felt how tired and exhausted she actually was.

"Boromir will be fine. Three arrows have not been able to stop him. He won't give up now, Y/N. Now that he knows someone special is waiting for him."

Aragorn always had the right words and for the young woman, they were a great comfort. Still, the events of the last days and weeks had shown that anyone could die at a moment's notice. They had seen it with Gandalf and that was painful enough. Boromir had survived, but the horror that he could have been dead had shaken Y/N to the core. She had fallen in love with Boromir, had often imagined what it would be like to lie in his arms at night, to exchange caresses with him. She had imagined all this and the feeling of being in love had made her more than happy. But Y/N had realized how painful love could be. With how much fear and grief that was connected to it. Could she once again bear to see Boromir die before her eyes? In her arms? No, no human could bear that one more time. Maybe it would be better to just let go. But even that would be difficult for Y/N, because feelings could not simply be turned off. She loved Boromir, but she knew that if Boromir really left this world, she would die inside.

"He was in my arms, Aragorn. I never want anything like this to happen again... To any of you," she whispered as she wiped a damp cloth over Bormoir's heated skin. Gently, she let it slide over his forehead as she looked at him.

"That he's alive is a miracle. I don't want to see him die again."

Aragorn understood her fear, also thought he knew what the young woman was getting at. It was the same for him with Arwen. His thoughts were constantly with the beautiful elven woman.

"Aragorn, I can't..." Y/N sobbed softly as tears slid down her cheeks. "It hurts so terribly to see him lying here."

"Y/N. You're tired and you really should go to sleep. It's been a rough day. You need to rest."

But sleep would not change her mind. She would distance herself from Boromir. But this decision was not Y/N's alone, but Boromir's as well. For Boromir had heard her confession of love quite carefully before he lost consciousness. And he should be damned to let his happiness slip away.

So it happened; after two more days the son of Denethor woke up and his first thought was about Y/N. And the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to look out for the beautiful woman. It hadn't escaped his notice that she had taken care of him. Every now and then he had awakened from his deep sleep, had seen her face again and again. Perhaps he had only dreamed of it, yes, but much more Boromir hoped that he had not only dreamed of her.

"You were unconscious for a long time. How do you feel, my friend?"

Aragorn's calm and pleasant voice drew Boromir's attention.

"Aragorn..." Somewhat confused, Boromir stroked his dirty blond hair, sighing softly. How did he feel? Well, he was in pain, barely able to move in his condition. Still, he sat up, wrapping an arm around his stomach as he hissed softly.

"Careful, Boromir. Your wounds have not healed yet. We have done our best, yet scars will remain."

"I'm lucky to be alive at all!"

And Boromir was glad about that. But all at once, he remembered Pippin and Merry. Startled, he looked around for the two Hobbits, but he couldn't spot them anywhere.

"Where are the little ones?!"

For a short moment, Aragorn turned his face away from Boromir, before looking at him again.

"We have not found them yet. Legolas and Gimli are searching for them."

"And you are here? Where is Y/N?"

Aragorn smirked a bit as his friend asked about the young woman. Yes, he could well understand that Boromir longed to be near Y/N.

"She is preparing dinner." With a slight movement of his head, Aragorn indicated the young woman's location. She was not far away, and Boromir now saw her as well. Instantly a smile crept onto the warrior's face. He looked at her for a moment, watching her prepare the food in the pan, lost in thought. He wondered if this was a good idea. Boromir was looking forward to a good piece of meat and it would be a shame if it burned, because of her distraction. He wondered what she was thinking about?

"Y/N? Boromir finally woke up!"

When Y/N heard this, she instantly looked in the direction of the two men and her eyes grew wide. For days, the young woman had been waiting for her Boromir to finally wake up, and when the time finally came, she dropped everything. She rushed to the warrior, but at the same time, she reminded herself not to get too excited.

"Y/N!"

It was obvious that Boromir was more than delighted to see her. He smiled joyfully at her, but Y/N only gave a saddened smile, which Boromir noticed immediately. Somewhat disappointed, he frowned, yet he said nothing.

"I'm so glad you're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, Y/N."

Aragorn cleared his throat as he excused himself and let the two of them have their privacy. After Aragorn made his way to the fire, Y/N looked shyly at the young Boromir as she knelt down to him. Carefully, he reached out and touched her cheek and Y/N felt how hot she suddenly became. Her heart pounded madly against her chest as she closed her eyes, while she enjoyed his touch.

"You gave us all a big scare, Boromir," Y/N said softly and she couldn't stop tears from running down her cheeks. It touched him deeply that the young woman was shedding tears because of him, but he liked her better when she smiled. Silently, Y/N nuzzled her face against his hand. It felt so good to be touched by him, it just felt right and yet Y/N didn't want to let her romantic feelings guide her. But when she opened her eyes again and looked into his, she felt weak again. She didn't want to escape Boromir, she wanted to finally be able to call him hers. It wasn't an easy decision and Y/N was almost on the verge of despair.

"It's good to see such a beautiful face. Such a friendly face."

Y/N knew Boromir's words were meant for her and she blushed immediately, even making her smile.

"Boromir..."

With his thumb, Boromir gently caressed her cheek before pulling his hand back and sighing softly. For a while, they just sat together, silent, and again and again, Boromir touched the young woman. Tenderly and almost carefully, but Boromir could be sure that Y/N enjoyed it very much.

"You should rest some more, Boromir. Your body needs a lot of recovery," Y/N said softly as she gently stroked through his strands of hair. Just as she turned away from him to leave, he grabbed her wrist and begged her not to leave his side.

"Please. Stay with me a little longer, darling."

Actually, she shouldn't. But, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she even lay down next to Boromir, her body lightly snuggled against his, while she closed her eyes and listened to his steady breaths. Without another word, Boromir wrapped his arm around her body and even pressed her a little closer to him, causing tears to run down the young woman's cheeks. God, how much she loved this man and how happy she was that he was still alive.

Days passed, Boromir was getting better and better, so they were all able to continue their journey. The fact that Boromir constantly sought Y/N's closeness had of course not escaped Aragorn's notice and he was happy for them, but he also saw that the young woman avoided Boromir's closeness and Boromir had also noticed that. He didn't want to force himself on her, respected her when she asked him to be alone. However, the frustration was clearly visible in his face. As it was at this moment. While he was sharpening his sword, his eyes kept falling to Y/N. She looked very thoughtful and also very unhappy. Boromir wondered why. Had he said something wrong? Did he do something to upset her? He was so sure that she returned his feelings. Had she not testified with her own words that she loved him? Sighing heavily, Boromir stowed his sword back in its scabbard before putting it aside. It could not go on like this. She was always running away from him, even if he only wanted to exchange a few words with her. This time, however, he would not let the young woman slip away so quickly. He would not give up until she had answered his questions. So the warrior rose from his place and approached Y/N, who was sitting on a small rock with her back turned to him, gazing into the distance.

"Y/N?"

The young woman looked up at Boromir, her heart beating fast as she did so. He seemed different than usual. He made a very serious impression and Y/N immediately understood why Boromir was with her. He hadn't missed her behavior and Y/N knew that she couldn't always run away from him.

"Can we talk?"

Y/N was silent for a moment before she nodded and rose from her seat. She turned to him, looking up at him, and Boromir's gaze immediately softened as he looked into her face. Her eyes had such a sad expression that he almost forgot what he had actually wanted to confront her with.

"You are avoiding me. Why?"

"..."

No answer. Y/N gave him no answer and Boromir slowly lost patience. He sighed softly, looking up at the sky for a moment as he reminded himself to stay calm. Y/N, on the other hand, noticed quite clearly that he was tense and she knew it was her fault. She was sorry, but she tried her best to banish Boromir from her mind. But most of all, out of her heart.

"And now you won't even talk to me?"

His voice was calm, but you could tell the man was hurt by her behavior.

"Then... Didn't my words mean anything to you, Y/N?"

Oh, they meant the world to her. They meant so much to her and now that Boromir confronted her, she couldn't bear to be around him any longer. She took flight from him again, but this time the young warrior would not let her get away.

"No!"

He quickly caught up with her, grabbed her arm and brought her to a stop.

"I want a clear answer, Y/N!" he said angrily as he spun her around to face him and she looked at him, startled.

"You treat me like I'm not even present! Turning your back on me! And I want to know what I did to deserve your hatred!"

She didn't hate him after all! No, no, no! But that's exactly what Boromir was thinking, and could she blame him? Y/N didn't try to run away from him this time, but looked up at him. Visibly startled by his words, she wanted to say something in her defense, but the words stuck in her throat. However, her tears told him that something was very wrong with the young woman. Instantly his gaze softened, no longer looking so angry.

"If I did anything wrong, I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm really sorry..."

"No. No, Boromir. You have done nothing wrong."

Boromir frowned, clearly confused by her words. Now he didn't understand anything. How was he supposed to understand? There had to be a reason for her to reject him!

"You almost died in my arms, Boromir," she whispered, and still she could feel the fear and desperation she had felt the day she thought Boromir had died.

"Believe me Boromir, your words mean the world to me. That you love me makes me so happy, but..."

Then she placed her hand to his cheeks, stroking them gently, and Boromir looked at her hopefully.

"I can't bear the thought of really losing you next time. Do you understand? I never want to have to feel such fear, such pain, ever again!"

Boromir understood, yet he found it was nonsense to hide his own feelings because of the fear of losing someone he loves. He, a proud warrior of Gondor, should be damned, If he would just let Y/N go. Without a word, Boromir leaned out to her and kissed her, gently cupping her cheeks.

"Boromir..."

She pulled away from his kiss, however her fingers dug tightly into the fabric of his dark cotton shirt. Boromir searched the look in her eyes as his breath brushed her lips and his thumb caressed her soft skin.

"You mean everything to me, Y/N. And I know you feel the same."

Her soft lips brushed his and she longed so much to just give in to her urge, to all her feelings. In the end, it was stronger than her and this time it was her who kissed him. Passionately and almost desperately. Boromir didn't waste a moment, wrapping his arms around her feminine body and pressing her against him. Her fingers clawed at the dirty blonde hair as his tongue slid over her lips, taking her in completely. Gasping, she gave him what he asked for and by God, she couldn't get enough of his kiss. They both seemed to have forgotten that Aragorn was near them. He just grinned contentedly and finally turned away to give them their privacy.

Y/N clearly heard the low growl coming from Boromir, whereupon she gasped arousedly and released the kiss. Her eyes gleamed as she looked at him. Her face was delicately flushed and a smile slipped onto her lips as the back of his hand caressing her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Boromir."

But Boromir only shook his head, for there was nothing to forgive. Her motives he had understood and could understand, yet he did not want to have to give up on Y/N. He loved her too much for that.

"No, my heart. Nothing to be sorry for."

Overjoyed, she wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed happily as she hugged him. This moment belonged to them alone and she would enjoy every moment she was allowed to spend at Boromir's side.

#boromir #boromir x reader #boromir x female reader #lotr #lotr fandom #fanfictions #my fanfictions #romance #love #angst #fluff

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weariedwightarchive · 3 years ago

Text

@nightacquainted - continued from here

A burning bitterness flickered like flames in Faegalad’s throat - her eyes narrowing in disdain at the mention of fiction. It was not at the stranger she was upset with. No, it was out of his control what the race of Men decided to remember by as fiction, but the very idea was insulting. And... unsettling. How willing had they been to forget the reality of Sauron? Of how their very future had balanced upon the edge of a sword? How the Dominion of Men almost never came to be? It had to be long after Aragorn’s rule, but... just how long? Her race, she knew, had been destined to leave Arda, but... had the Hobbits gone as well? The Dwarves, even? The thought alone made her mournful, and she did best not to dwell on it.

There were too many questions, and she had a feeling answers would not be readily available from the stranger before her, despite how different he was. Although his features remained hidden in the shadow of his cloak, she could still make out his appearance was that of no Man, but... certainly of no race she knew of. Had another race came to Arda upon the leaving of the Elves? It was possible, but she dare not ask, either, until she could better judge who he was. Besides, she wished not to offend him, not when he was the first soul willing to speak to her, and not simply stare or walk away. The world was strange, and not just in architecture and culture.

The magic she had once felt no longer felt... there. And that... scared her.

But, Faegalad did well to hide it. Did well to keep her composure, despite the threat of the unknown looming down on her - threatening to suffocate her. She was the stranger, was she not? Not the man before her. And as much as everything around her encouraged her to disappear as swiftly as she could, she stood her ground, and gave a slight dip of her head to break her stare on him, and to show she was not upset with him. “That, I’m afraid, I am uncertain of,” she said at last, though her soft voice was taut with stress. “I have a faint recollection of how I ended up here, but... why I am unclear of. You are the first willing to speak to me with some respect, and take me seriously. But... if what you say is true of my kind being seen as myth, then I suppose I should not be surprised. So, if I may, where is here? Not even Minas Tirith could rival this city. Though...”

Something in her expression shifted. Her gaze dulling - a heavy grief weighing heavy on her heart. “This is not Arda.” It was a statement, not a question, but even still, a quiet plea that she was wrong. That it was Arda, just... a different part of it. An unexplored corner of the world she had not seen before.

Because the very idea that she was no longer in Middle-earth was too much to bear.

#nightacquainted #auv; oh how far you are from home

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a-lonely-dunedain · 3 years ago

Note

27, 28 and 38 💛

27. "Do you have any memorable stories about interactions with other people? Nice, funny, just plain weird?"

oh I sure do! man it's hard to pick tho.... ok so here's one! a looong long time ago back when Ethedis was just a level 20-something baby, I was doing the Baggins Birthday quest and needed to get to Rivendell. well, baby me didn't know about the Gandalf port, so I ran all the way across the overleveled Lonelands and through half the Trollshaws, up until I crossed the Ford. well there's stealthed lynxes up there and poor Ethedis was no match for them and got booted back down to Tornenhad. luckily there happened to be a level 50 Bear over there and I begged him for an escort through the last leg of the journey. long story short we made it and I got my scribe's stand 😊 but that's not where the story ends!

see, a few months ago I was on my hobbit hunter Belta, and when I logged in at the West Bree Gate I encountered some friendly roleplaying hobbits who were about level 6, like we're talking baby alts. we exchanged greetings and I went on my way, expecting not to see them again. I forget what errands I was doing on Belta at the time, but I eventually ended up at the last bridge, and who should I find there but the Fellowship of the Level 6 Roleplayers! they had adopted a level 20 human at some point, and were trying to make it to Rivendell and asked my hobbit for help. naturally I obliged, after all, I was wearing my "Honorary Ranger" title at the time so I had to live up to it! the rangers' reputation was at stake! so after a daring trek across the Trollshaws my hunter finally had her Aragorn Moment(TM) and got this group of tiny little hobbits all the way to Rivendell!

and that night it all came full circle, and in escorting these low level characters though a place they Should Not Be, I finally repaid the favor I had asked from that level 50 bear all those years ago (looks like we also picked up an elf at some point too)

28. "Have you been playing during any major changes? How did you feel about those? (LI revamp, major class skill resets, etc.)"

a few yes! I was here for the new LIs of course, and some class changes (rip sic 'em, you will be missed 😢)

38. "Do you have any favorite soundtracks from around the game?"

do I??!??!?!?!!!? yes. yes I do :)

I think just about everyone would put something from Rohan somewhere on their lists so that pretty much goes without saying. personally I love the Dale Lands music! well everything in the strongholds of the north actually. but if I had to pick a track that stood out to me as like, my favorite favorite, it would currently be Solitude of the Northern Vales or The Beorning Lands. like those songs are just so peaceful. I was going through a pretty rough patch when that area was released and LOTRO was the best escape I had, so those songs just feel like the musical equivalent of a warm hug to me. Anytime I'm sad I usually just end up in the Vales of Anduin to listen to that music and like, look at trees, it's great I would recommend it

#lotro #ask games #not me getting emotional about viddy game music haha couldn't be me

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sonxofxgondor · 1 year ago

Text

Hand to the shoulder, linen shirt covered in the color of rain clouds, the touch from Frodo was a welcomed one. Comfort for the pain that darkened Boromir and his heart, peace that was offered in both the physical and word alike. Tribulations of the past were to remain as so. Cast into the shadows which had reclaimed the Dark Lord - blackened blood that painted the lands - from where hope would be reborn. From the soil that had once been dry but was no longer; unfolded from the ashes, Elanor bloomed from a single seed. A movement from one point of life onto the next, just the spark that was needed for change. Evil come to an end, Frodo had been that very seed that blossomed. Developed, made stronger by the trials and hurdles that dared to block his path, had lost just as much as he had gained. Frodo was not the same Hobbit that he had been. Older - the lines under his eyes had become quite pronounced - doleful. Boromir was not blind.

Wished for nothing more than to take away the pains of his friend, Boromir did what he could until. Dried his face of tears, brushed them away with the back of his hand, smiled to Frodo. Stood upon his feet, a proud soldier once more, embraced in the night as a Man revived. Life was good.

Boromir hailed, "you Hobbits never fail to impress me. Especially you, Frodo. Your kindness and friendship are precious to me. I will never forget that nor you for as long as I live."

Head cocked to the side in study, a tilt to the left direction, eyes roamed across Frodo with the interest of a concerned companion, green fields dimmed by storm.

"Forgive me, I have not asked how you have been." Boromir apologized. "How are you, Frodo? Your hand, it doesn't bother you now, does it? I am not Aragorn, my knowledge of healing does not go beyond the basics, but I would be more than happy to do what I can to ease you of your hurts. I could call the healer back, too, if you would like. What the creature did to you... Gollum... I am sorry. I cannot begin to think what you must be going through. Would you care for some tea or water? Maybe a little ale? I've found, from my experience, that nothing heals hurts faster than a fresh mug of good ale. May I get a small pint for you, my friend?"

The intensity of Boromir's grief at his actions caught the Hobbit entirely off-guard. Frodo winced slightly, though did not recoil from the Man now on his knees before him. He simply stared, a concerned furrow forming in his brow, as Boromir professed his guilt and even begged forgiveness. All this, Frodo could hardly bear, but it seemed to him that Boromir felt a need to say it, and so he bore it anyway.

"My friend..." Frodo began, and he lay a gentle hand on Boromir's shoulder. Not the one bandaged and held close to his chest, finger missing, but the one that remained whole. "None could understand the power of the Ring as I do now. I know its effects, and how its presence harmed you. It is why I chose to leave when I did. I couldn't bear to watch the Ring destroy each of you in turn."

Frodo took a slow breath, and there was a certain haunted look about him. The journey had changed him, irrevocably, but perhaps there was still hope for those who had not carried this burden so directly. "You told me once, I must not carry the weight of the dead. Now I say to you, Boromir of Gondor: You must not carry the weight of your mistakes while under the influence of the One Ring."

It is what Frodo wished he could do for himself: Forget his final failure at the end of his quest and remember how many hard steps it took to even make it that far. It would be the only way to find peace, if there was any peace left for him in this world. But hope wore thin.

"Please, believe me when I say: There is nothing to forgive." The Hobbit offered Boromir a small, if melancholy smile. "From what I've heard, you did right by my kin, and nearly lost your life defending them. Whatever dignity you might have lost in accosting me, I think you more than proved your true honor, in the end."

#heartsdefine #Muse \\ Frodo Baggins #Verse \\ Alternative Verse #Timeline \\ The Return of the King

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tolkien-feels · 3 years ago

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Gimli (my beloved) and grima? (I'm a hobbit and lotr books only kind of person sorry for the lack of niche characters)

Nooo don't say that, characters aren't better just because they're niche, Frodo is literally my Tolkien Blorbo!!

I'm also loving the alliteration of the character choices

Gimli

one aspect about them i love: His deep love for all that is beautiful. I love beautiful things myself, but on a very superficial level? Things are pleasant to look at, that's all. But Gimli often speaks of beauty which stirs emotions and I love seeing the world through his eyes in that way. Give me a bow and call me Legolas because I would visit the Glittering Caves after being moved by Gimli's speech

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: He has so much depth! I've mentioned before that I feel like Gimli is beloved in the fandom but not taken seriously by it. He seems almost an interchangeable dwarf? Or maybe the Platonic ideal of a dwarf, actually. But Gimli has a very specific personality. He's sensitive and wise and courteous and full of regrets. He's complex, damnit!

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: He's slightly cynical and pessimistic. Hoping against hope doesn't come easily to him. Like Frodo, he does what's right not always because he thinks there's any hope of it making any difference, but just because it's the right thing to do

one character i love seeing them interact with: Listen, Legolas is the most cliche answer I can give and I know it but. It's Legolas.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: Pippin. You know that scene where he just sends Pippin off to bed while randomly saying how much he loves him? Give me more of that please!!

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: He makes so many toys for Aragorn’s children it's frankly obnoxious. Aragorn has asked him to tone it down more than once but he will not, thank you. He would make jewels for Arwen but she's too much like her grandmother's, he doesn't dare to presume he could improve on her beauty. But kids are free real estate to be spoiled :D

Grima

one aspect about them i love: If I'm being entirely honest, I haven't spent as much time thinking about Grima as I have about characters that are objectively much more minor than him (sorry Grima!) so this is probably a veeeery basic answer, but my favorite aspect is that he shows me the importance of what Faramir says, that war must be while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all. Seeing the value of kindness comes very easily for me, but Grima teaches me a veeeery value lesson that kindness is not the same as avoiding conflict. If you don't stand up for yourself you end up allegedly eating a hobbit, you know? Sometimes you just have to take a stand

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: I'm hardly the one to be opinionated about him! One aspect I wish I understood more about him is that he's just a very scared character. Like I said a while ago, his a poor meow meow like Gollum, and I keep forgetting that just because I spend less time with him :/

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: Finally something I can answer easily! I love to take the Wormtongue epithet and taking it to its logical extreme. I think of other dragons of Tolkien and can't help wondering if Grima isn't actually an excellent judge of character. Like, far above average, could give Gandalf a run for his money. He's afraid of people like Saruman and Eomer because he's keenly aware of how dangerous they can be in a way other people suspect but don't know for sure.

one character i love seeing them interact with: Theoden. I find it fascinating how Theoden tries to walk a line between justice and mercy, and how Grima doubles down on treachery at every turn

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: Hm... Good question. I've always thought of him as a bit of a foil to Faramir, but I can't see how they'd interact in canon? But hypothetically, I wish they would, I think that'd be interesting

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: It's much, much easier for him to be cruel to the men of Rohan than to the hobbits. You'd think not, right? But he doesn't feel guilty about fighting back against strong Men who would kill him in a heartbeat, while hobbits unfortunately make him feel like he's kicking puppies. He'll do it because he sees no other options, but he gets no satisfaction out of it

Can I just thank you, btw, I think I like Grima more now lol I'm going to pioneer a couple therapy style where you just have to take an active and good-faith interest in someone and write out answers in detail

#ask game

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sylvanfreckles · 4 years ago

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Departing Shadows

You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you? Here it is, another rescue from my doomed fanfiction.net account.

Summary: Legolas arrives to winter in Imladris after an ill-fated patrol in Mirkwood. But when the prince's refusal to accept the truth of what happened affects his healing, Aragorn is determined to break through the shadows that threaten his friend's spirit. No slash. Second-place winner of the December 2005 Teitho contest.

This is one of the angstiest things I've ever written, so...it'll be right up someone's alley, I'm sure. Please check the warnings if you're concerned. It was apparently partly inspired by The Pretenders' "I'll Stand By You".

And like I always say. I may cringe, but I will never regret! On to the fic!

(I should warn you...I made up the horse's name just so Aragorn could call him Smokey. He first appeared in another fic that I'll post one of these days. His name might look decently elvish but it's total gibberish.)

...

"Legolas!"

Aragorn refused to let the knee-deep snowdrifts impede him as he surged forward to greet his friend. The prince had come to Imladris for the winter, arriving, it seemed, just ahead of the heavy snows.

"Hello, Estel," the blonde elf said wearily, dismounting from his horse and nodding to the groom that had come to take care of the animal.

"I see Smokey is well," Aragorn commented, referring to an old joke they had between them about the horse's name.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "For the last time, Ranger, his name is Simoliké."

Aragorn laughed, throwing an arm around his friend and pretending not to notice the elf's flinch. "It is wonderful to see you again, Legolas."

The elf sighed, relaxing just slightly as the man guided him down the cleared walkway up to the house. "Are your brothers home?" he asked with a hint of hesitation.

"They're out until this evening," Aragorn explained, biting back a grin as he remembered the twins' protests at being sent away the day the prince was due to arrive. "Ada wanted them to help some of the other homes prepare for winter."

He noticed Legolas seemed relieved to hear this, and wondered at the elf's reaction. Then again, he thought, knowing the circumstances behind the prince's journey perhaps it was not entirely unexpected that he would be hesitant to face the rather exuberant greeting that Elladan and Elrohir would cook up.

"How are you, Legolas?" Aragorn asked as they entered the house, turning his friend to face him.

Legolas looked down, and for the first time Aragorn noticed the dark shadows under the elf's eyes, the deep pallor of his skin, and the almost haunted look in his eyes. "I am fine," the prince said softly.

Rather than outright scoff the elf's answer, as he was used to doing, Aragorn simply nodded. "I believe my father asked to speak with you when you arrived," he said. "He's in his study...just leave your bags, someone will take them up later."

Aragorn walked the elf to his father's study, and was surprised when Lord Elrond asked him to remain. He sat easily in a chair, noting with some concern that Legolas was perched as though about to bolt.

"Legolas," Elrond greeted, setting aside the scroll he had been studying. "How is your father?"

"He is well, Lord Elrond," the prince replied, fidgeting a little.

"Are you aware that he sent me a letter to tell the reasons behind your arrival?"

Legolas flinched. "I had guessed as much."

"Can you tell me what it says?"

The younger elf frantically shook his head, his eyes wide. Aragorn looked on in concern, and only a restraining glance from his father kept him from jumping to his friend's side.

"Then shall I tell you?" Elrond asked, not even waiting for a response. "In his letter he mentioned that your patrol suffered a devastating attack by a party of orcs. All but three of the elves under your command were killed in battle, and those of you who survived were taken captive. The orcs recognized you as captain of that patrol and slowly tortured the other three survivors to death in an attempt to get information out of you. Is this correct?"

Aragorn's eyes widened, and he glanced at his friend. Legolas was trembling, his gaze fixed on Elrond as though afraid the older elf would attack him.

"Legolas, you cannot hide from what happened," Elrond said kindly. "Yes, six of your people are dead...six good elves that should not have suffered so. But you must not blame yourself, Legolas. You must face what happened and—"

But whatever else Lord Elrond was going to say was forever lost as Legolas chose that moment to bolt from his chair and flee the study. Aragorn was after him in a heartbeat, not so much to bring him back to Elrond as out of honest concern for his friend.

Luckily, in his haste Legolas was less stealthy than usual and Aragorn could easily follow him. He found the elf just outside the door, bent over on his knees with his arms around his stomach. Aragorn knelt beside his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling the prince's hair back as Legolas was violently sick.

"I can't, Estel," Legolas whispered, his voice shaking. "He asks me...I can't."

"What happened?" Aragorn asked. "You don't have to tell me if you don't wish to," he added as Legolas tensed. "I want to help you...tell me what I can do."

"I..." Legolas shivered. "I can't, not yet."

"All right," Aragorn nodded. "What do you wish to do, then?"

Legolas sighed and sat up just enough to lean against Aragorn. "I want to forget than any of this ever happened."

"I know," the human said soothingly. "But my brothers will be returning soon," he added, squinting at the setting sun. "Do you want me to tell them you've retired early?"

"No," the elf said, standing shakily to his feet. "I do not wish them to suspect something is wrong."

Ai, anyone who looks you in the eye would know that you are not well, Aragorn thought. "Perhaps you would like to bathe and rest before dinner, then?" he asked, ever mindful of all the lessons he'd received on being a gracious host.

Legolas smiled, and in that smile Aragorn finally saw a glimmer of the elf who was his best friend. "You would not mock me for my 'obsessive bathing'?" he asked.

"Not today," Aragorn said with a laugh. "I believe you know the way...or would you prefer me to escort you so you don't get lost?"

"No, Aragorn," Legolas sighed. "But if you could apologize to Lord Elrond for my behavior..."

"Of course," the human nodded. "I'll speak with him immediately," and get him to tell me just what is going on, he added mentally. "See you at dinner, then," he called before making his way back to his father's study.

"Come in, Estel," Elrond called, not even bothering to look up.

"Ada, what is going on?" Aragorn asked, not even bothering to pass on his friend's apology as he knew Elrond would not hold Legolas' behavior as offensive in any way.

Elrond sighed and motioned for Aragorn to close the door. "In his letter Thranduil told me that Legolas has refused to speak of anything that happened during his captivity."

"He said he doesn't want to talk about it," Aragorn said.

"He is burdened because he feels responsible for six deaths that were beyond his control...six elves who would have gladly given their lives to keep the secrets of Mirkwood safe."

"Did the orcs know he was a prince?"

"No, they thought he was only a captain. Had they known, however, they might have tried to use him as leverage. In that case the results may have been different," Elrond sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"Different?"

Elrond met the human's gaze, a depth of sorrow in his eyes that Aragorn had not expected. "When the deaths of his comrades failed to get him to speak, the orcs resorted to torturing Legolas. He spent three days in their grasp, until another patrol found and rescued him."

Aragorn sat back in shock. "He was tortured..." he repeated softly. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Only time will tell. I will say this, though," Elrond held up one finger. "If he does not come to terms with what happened he will break. His spirit is already shadowed, and I fear what will happen if he does not begin to release this soon." The elf-lord sighed. "I believe he is on the brink of fading."

The young man felt his resolve harden. "I will not let that happen," he said fiercely.

Elrond's gaze saddened further. "I hope so, ion-nin."

Aragorn turned to leave, but hesitated and looked back to his father. "You were wrong," he said softly. "You should not have confronted him. He is not ready."

The elf raised one eyebrow, his gaze tightening slightly. "And how do you know this?"

"He told me," the man said simply. "He will talk to us when he's ready...not before. For now, the best we can do is simply listen and wait for him to tell us. I dare say there have been enough healers trying to draw him out."

Elrond nodded to acknowledge Aragorn's argument, though the human could tell he hadn't convinced his father of anything. Sighing, he left the study and jogged down the hall to the one elf he knew he needed to see: Legolas.

Legolas was not surprised in the least when he came out of the bathing chamber to find Aragorn perched on his bed. He had almost expected the human to come barging in while he was still bathing, as though thinking that catching the prince unawares would make him reveal what he had gone through.

He shook his head, dispelling that thought. Aragorn would never do that to him. "Are you waiting for something, Human?" he asked, forcing a playful tone to his voice.

"Just wanted to see if you needed anything else."

Legolas sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

Aragorn's brow furrowed in concern. "I wasn't going to ask."

The elf paused, trying to keep his hand steady as he reached for his hairbrush. "Why not?" he asked bluntly.

"I don't want to rush you," the man said simply. "I want you to talk to me when you're ready."

Legolas caught himself blinking back tears, his emotions stretched too far at this point for any sort of restraint to last. "What if I'm never ready?" he said in a whisper.

"You will be," Aragorn said confidently. "Take some time...take a few days to rest, if you like. You're safe here," the man added, resting his chin in his hand and studying the prince as he brushed his hair.

The elf sighed, setting the hairbrush aside and lying down on the bed. "I know," he murmured, fighting the bone-chilling exhaustion that seemed to follow him everywhere.

"My father's healers," he said after a few moments, "spent every day trying to convince me to talk about what happened...what I saw, what I went through. Every time I saw them I just started retreating further and further within. It was out of desperation that my father sent me here. He hoped your father could do something."

Aragorn grunted an acknowledgement. "He wants to help," the man said quietly. "And he could probably understand what you're feeling...but I know what you mean."

Legolas turned a curious eye on his friend, waiting for the human to continue.

"In my first months out with the rangers," the man explained, "we came across a pack of wolves. They were bent on destroying us, and managed to kill two of the younger rangers before we killed them. One of those men was my friend," Aragorn added softly. "The first human friend I'd ever made. We were near Imladris, so they brought the wounded here. I knew my brothers and my father had lost friends before...but having so many try to help me recover from my friend's death was just overwhelming and I shut them out. It wasn't until one of the other rangers simply told me that he would just listen if I ever needed to talk that I found myself willing to share anything."

He turned a saddened gaze toward the prince. "If you need to talk, Legolas, I will listen. And whatever you share, I will keep in secret as long as you wish. If you need me, I will stand by you through whatever you face."

Legolas sighed and nodded. "Thank you," he whispered, the world darkening as he drifted off to sleep.

Elladan and Elrohir cornered Legolas later that night in the Hall of Fire, demanding an account from their friend of his journey and the latest news from Mirkwood. Aragorn was relieved to see Legolas at ease, laughing and joking, but disheartened when he saw through the facade to the crumbling spirit within the prince.

He could see that the elf was exhausted, though he wondered if that was more due to the journey here or to the terrible weight he carried. "All right, enough," Aragorn declared, smoothly stepping in and maneuvering his friend away from his brothers. "You can speak with Legolas in the morning, the hour is growing late and I wish to have a word with my friend before he retires for the night."

Ignoring the protests from the twins—half-hearted and jovial though they were—Aragorn steered Legolas to a vacant balcony.

They stood in silence for a while, looking out as a light snow fell throughout the valley. "Everything is so peaceful here," Legolas finally said, sighing and leaning heavily against the railing. "Not like home...there is no shadow over Imladris."

Aragorn grunted softly in agreement. "You know, tomorrow the first thing my brothers will do is drag me out of bed and bury me in the snow. They've done it during the first snow every year, but I wasn't here for the first snow so they'll probably do it with this one. They used to try convince me it would teach me to walk atop it as elves do...but I've long since learned that was a lie."

Legolas chuckled. "And I suppose you'll wish me to come to your aid?"

"Of course," Aragorn grinned. "What else are friends for?" he added, and lighthearted though his tone was he hoped Legolas would understand the hidden message.

The blonde elf sobered immediately. "I know," he said quietly. "I have been struggling all day...here I have a friend who has promised to stand beside me no matter what I face, yet when it comes to facing myself I have not the courage to ask."

Aragorn's heart went out to the elf. "You don't ever need to ask, Legolas," he replied gently. "I will always stand with you."

"Always?" the elf asked, turning to Aragorn so the human could see the tears glistening in the elf's eyes. "I am afraid, Aragorn. Afraid to face what is inside of me...afraid that the memories will be too much...but most of all I am afraid that if everyone sees this they will know I am a coward."

The elf turned away, covering his face with one hand. Aragorn immediately pulled his friend into an embrace, letting the elf sob into his shoulder. "You are not a coward," he said firmly. "Fear is just another battle, Legolas. You must face it, and you can defeat it."

When his friend had calmed down enough to release his death-grip on Aragorn's tunic, the human gently steered the elf through a set of fairly empty corridors to his chamber.

"Now sleep," he ordered, taking a look around the guestroom in which Legolas was staying. Sudden inspiration struck, and he turned to his friend's pack and began digging through it.

"What are you doing?" Legolas asked.

"It is far too cold in here," the man complained. "Even for an elf...you'll catch your death of cold if you stay in here tonight," he stood up triumphantly, a set of Legolas' sleeping clothes in his hand. "Come with me," he ordered, grabbing the elf by the arm.

Ignoring his friend's protests, he ushered Legolas down to his own chamber where a fire was already roaring happily in the fireplace. "This is much better, isn't it?" Aragorn asked, swiftly changing into his own sleeping clothes.

Legolas raised one eyebrow. "My room is not cold, Aragorn."

"Well...maybe not to you but I'll rest much better knowing that you're not sleeping in a room so frigid it could freeze a dragon," Aragorn retorted, climbing into his bed. It was large enough for three or four people, so he knew the elf couldn't protest because of lack of room.

The elf shook his head in amusement, and turned his back to change. Aragorn's stomach somersaulted when he caught sight of a few still-unhealed wounds on the elf's back—marks left from a whip and burns the size of his thumb. Whatever shadow had fallen on Legolas' spirit had left his friend unable to fully heal.

Legolas finished changing and slid into the other side of the bed. "Happy now, Human?" he asked.

"Of course," Aragorn laughed. He blew out the lamp on the bedside table, and waited until Legolas' breathing evened out to slip into sleep.

And when the nightmares struck, as he had known they would, he was right there.

Lord Elrond paused outside of Legolas' room—the prince was a frequent enough guest that one of the rooms was considered his—and knocked softly. Not hearing an answer he quietly opened the door and peeked in, a bit surprised to see that the room was vacant.

Then again, he mused, he shouldn't have been surprised at all.

Chuckling inwardly he stealthily opened the door to his youngest son's room just enough so slip in, and couldn't hold back a smile.

They were still sleeping, Aragorn with his arms wrapped around Legolas and the elf's head tucked under his chin, as though his mere presence could beat back the shadow that hung about the archer's spirit.

It was the nature of their friendship—of the friendship of two friends closer than brothers—for each to protect the other.

This time, Aragorn was the protector...against whatever demons preyed on his friend's spirit.

Elrond held back a sigh as he approached the bed, not wanting to wake either prince or ranger. He knew what he had said in his study had sounded unfeeling and harsh, but he had been hoping to force Legolas to face what had happened. He could now fully see the distress his words had caused the younger elf, and standing at the end of the bed he could make out distinct tear-trails left on the prince's face from whatever horrors he'd endured in his dreams.

And his eyes were closed, as though that would keep the images away.

Elves could usually control their dreams, but Elrond knew that Legolas had been repressing memories of his captivity and those memories would seek to break through, mostly in the form of nightmares.

But perhaps...perhaps his son could succeed where all of healers of Mirkwood and Legolas' own family had failed. The love of a brother, extended without hesitation or condition, might be just what was needed to break through the shadow.

As though knowing he was being thought of, Aragorn opened one eye and regarded his father with a raised eyebrow. Elrond pressed a finger to his lips to indicate silence, and slowly retreated, pausing just long enough to throw a smile over his shoulder at his son and the sleeping prince.

He would not speak about these things to Legolas again, he decided, unless the prince approached him. Perhaps Aragorn was right, and the best cure would be to listen and wait until Legolas was ready to speak.

Aragorn had dozed off when his father left, but woke suddenly with a yelp when a pair of hands seized his feet and dragged him off the bed.

"EL!" he shouted, not knowing which twin it was. Laughing gray eyes peeked into his as the less-responsible twin perched on the bed.

"It snowed last night, Estel," the twin—Elladan—said cheerfully.

"It is far from the first snow," the human grumped, trying to wrestle his feet away from Elrohir.

"Ah, but it is such fresh snow," Elrohir exclaimed, chuckling and pulling Aragorn a few more feet when the ranger tried to sit up and pry his hands away.

"Couldn't the snow wait a few hours?" a fourth voice asked groggily as the prince sat up, awakened from his exhausted sleep by the commotion.

"Legolas! Help me!" Aragorn called, ignoring the surprised glances of the twins who had evidently not seen Legolas when they entered the room.

"Aye, help him!" Elladan shouted, jumping to his feet and grabbing Legolas by the wrist. He dragged the prince off the bed, ignoring the protests and finally managing to dump the blonde elf, along with several blankets and a few pillows, onto the floor.

"What do you say, 'Dan?"

"I say the smelly human needs a bath!" Elladan exclaimed. "Shall we go?" he added, easily flinging Legolas over one shoulder and opening the door.

The prince was helpless with laughter in spite of his protests by this time, as every time he tried to wriggle away Elladan managed to poke him in a ticklish spot.

Elrohir followed, still dragging Aragorn by the ankles. The ranger began protesting that they would have to go downstairs—surely Elrohir would let him walk that much?

But he had forgotten his brother's tenacity. Elrohir did let go of Aragorn's ankles, but only to grab him around the chest and haul him down the stairs backwards, leaving his feet to drag behind.

Elladan was waiting impatiently by the door when Elrohir finally arrived with his struggling captive. Together they took their prisoners outside, Elladan depositing the prince gracefully in a clear spot in the yard and running to aid Elrohir.

Aragorn shouted in protest, but was no match for the twin elves as they managed to bring him to the ground, burying him in the snow and wrestling with him until he was completely soaked, shivering in his sleeping clothes.

"A-ada will b-be angry with y-you if I c-catch cold," Aragorn muttered through chattering teeth, hugging his arms tightly to his chest to preserve some warmth. Why did he let them to do this to him every year?

"Ah, but it is winter and you have nowhere better to be," Elladan said with a grand shrug. "What better place than the healers' wing?"

Legolas laughed at this, still sitting aside atop a patch of unbroken snow.

"The prince is amused," Elrohir commented.

"Yes...perhaps before he judges this as amusing he should experience it for himself," Elladan suggested with a wicked grin and in a flash the two had jumped to their feet and ran for the prince.

To Aragorn's alarm, the prince reacted with wide, fearful eyes and turned to flee.

The twins laughed as they chased him down, gleefully giving him the same treatment they'd given their brother. But Aragorn heard Legolas' protests grow more frantic and fearful, until he was in a high state of terror and begging the twins to stop.

Ignoring his own discomfort, Aragorn plunged into the unbroken snow and drove his way forward to the three elves, angered when his brothers treated the younger elf's fear as part of the game.

"Get off him!" Aragorn shouted, somehow pushing both Elladan and Elrohir away. Legolas lay curled up in the snow, his arms over his head and his breath coming in terrified pants. "Legolas?" he asked softly, placing a hand on the trembling shoulder.

The prince recognized Aragorn's voice and launched himself up into his friend's arms, burying his face in the man's sodden tunic to muffle his sobs of fear. Aragorn was shocked to see a small amount of blood on the snow, and more on the back of the elf's tunic.

With a warning glance at his brothers to stay back, Aragorn wordlessly gathered up the archer in his arms and trudged back into the house, heading straight for the healers' wing.

The moment his son entered the room carrying the trembling elf, Elrond knew the twins' yearly prank had gone tragically wrong. He sighed to himself, pulling back the blankets on one of the beds and nodding for Aragorn to set the prince down. He would have to explain this to his sons later...it wouldn't be fair to them to leave them wondering.

Then, as Aragorn showed him the reopened wounds on the archer's back, his concern grew.

"Ada, he was terrified," Aragorn confessed in a low voice, hoping they were far enough away that the blonde elf couldn't hear them. "He was pleading for them to stop, but they were just joking."

"I should have told them," Elrond sighed.

Aragorn agreed with his own sigh, bringing a few rolls of bandages over to bind his friend's wounds. Elrond dispensed a servant to bring down dry clothes for his son and the prince, seeing that both were cold and wet.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked, kneeling beside the bed to look his friend in the eye. Elrond glanced over and was startled to see the prince pale-faced, tears streaking out of tightly-closed eyes. "It's all right," the human said soothingly, placing a hand on the elf's shoulder. "It's over...they're gone."

The servant returned with the clothes, and Elrond politely turned away, pretending to be hunting for something on the herb table, as Aragorn helped his friend change before changing himself.

"A-aragorn?" the prince whispered.

"Yes?" the man was kneeling again in an instant, grasping the white-fingered hand that extended toward him.

"Will you stay?"

Aragorn smiled tenderly. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

Several hours later, after hearing the story from their father and shoveling all the paths from the house to the various outbuildings, Elladan and Elrohir peeked into the healing room to see how the prince was faring.

Legolas was sleeping again, Aragorn in a chair at his side with a book in hand. He glanced up at his brothers and offered them an apologetic glance.

"We came to apologize," Elrohir whispered.

Aragorn shook his head. "You didn't know," he murmured.

"Still...when he asked us to stop..." Elladan's voice trailed off when he thought of how he and his twin had unintentionally hurt their friend. "Is he all right?"

"He will be," Aragorn nodded. "He finally told me what happened," he added with a sigh. "He slept a bit just after you...after we came in, but woke up after another nightmare. This time, though, he told me what it was about."

Elladan raised one eyebrow, unconsciously imitating his father. "Another nightmare?"

Aragorn nodded sadly. "He had four last night. Ada said it was repressed memories trying to break through, and now that he finally told me what happened it seems he's sleeping peacefully."

The twins agreed, both noticing that the prince seemed more at peace than he had been since his arrival. "I hope can forgive us," Elrohir murmured.

"He already has," Aragorn replied gently. "He knows you didn't mean to cause him pain."

Elladan nodded, eyes suspiciously damp-looking. "Well, I guess we'd better get changed if we want to be warm and dry for dinner," he commented wryly. "Ada has had us clearing the paths for the past few hours as punishment for reckless behavior."

Aragorn couldn't keep a broad grin from spreading across his face. "Doesn't he do that every year?"

"Aye," Elrohir shrugged. "I'm beginning to think it's less punishment for throwing you in the snow and more because he knows we'll actually do it."

"You do deserve it," Aragorn interjected laughingly.

Elladan just snickered. "It's worth it every year to see your face, though," he teased. "Come on, 'Ro, unlike some humans we don't enjoy playing in the snow," he added, leading the way out of the healers' wing.

Neither he nor his twin caught the devious smile spreading across their brother's face.

Clean, dry, and impeccably dressed, Elladan and Elrohir sat at the table in the dining hall merrily chatting with the other elves in the hall. Their father sat at the head, as usual, either conversing with the elves to either side of him or just watching out over the hall.

Legolas and Aragorn were not in their places, but given the prince's frail condition of late the twins expected them to be taking dinner in the healers' wing.

And so neither one suspected anything until two rather large buckets filled with snow were upended over their heads, the buckets left to sit like oversized hats.

Pushing the bucket off his head and shaking the snow out of his eyes in fury, Elrohir glared about the room to see who had done such a thing. His eyes lighted on Aragorn and Legolas, sitting across the table with suspiciously-innocent faces.

"Why, Legolas," Aragorn said in mock amazement. "I do believe it is snowing indoors."

Legolas nodded, looking up at the ceiling as though it were a wonder to behold and valiantly holding in his laughter.

His heart was lighter than it had been in weeks. Aragorn had listened, offered what strength he could, and simply stood with Legolas as he faced the fear in his soul.

And beyond that fear was the peace he had thought he lost.

Finally, the shadows were departing.

#lord of the rings #fanfiction #teitho writing contest #rescued from ff.net #aragorn #legolas #elrond #angst #hurt/comfort #friendship #aftermath of torture #platonic bed sharing

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