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okay-j-hannah · 2 years ago

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Part 4: The Griever

The Lord of the Rings : Multishot

Samwise Gamgee x Reader

Word count: 6138

Warnings: 😢 talk of grief and loss. 💙 slight depression. 🥰 love. 🥰 love. 🥰 love.

Request: “Could I request a multishot with samwise gamgee x reader and sam has always had a crush on her, but on their journey he realizes she's even better than he imagined her to be (like when you stop crushing but actually fall in love)” @the-narnian-sea

A/N: I’ve skipped Caradhras, the mines of Moria, and the river Anduin

Part 3: The Heroine

Part 4: The Griever {You Are Here}

Part 5:

S.R. 1395

The sun was beginning to sink below the grassy hills of the Shire, warming the hobbit holes with the orange summer night air. Little (Y/N), not yet old enough to be considered a tween, was stretching her fingers towards the warm orange glow.

Her not so little hobbit feet were directed towards the distant tree line, a rust colored leather and linen pack across one shoulder.

She was quite determined this time. This time she meant it. She was going to run away – for real. The trees sang for her with their shimmering leaves made golden by the setting sun. The nimble squirrels and clever foxes called to her with their scurrying steps. The wild berries, round and bright, begged to be picked and eaten.

There was absolutely, positively, no way she was going to chicken out and return home within a fortnight. Not like the other four times.

She felt her steps become lighter as she neared the forest edge, excitement making her feel as weightless as a cloud. She audibly giggled, “I wonder if the owls have still nested in the great northern oak,” she muttered to herself.

The forest meant she could discuss these serious matters aloud without the fear of pointed ears searching for tavern gossip.

“Surely they’ve protected my stash of poisonous arrows.” She flounced as the crickets began to speak to her in turn, as if she adorned one of her mother’s custom hobbit dresses instead of the trousers she stole from Merry’s dresser.

“Poisonous arrows?” boomed a voice, “I had no idea you were so skilled in such alchemy.”

(Y/N) became stiff, choking on her own giggle. She tilted her head and slowly trailed her eyes up, up, up… to Gandalf.

The bearded old man smiled, blue eyes twinkling, “On the hunt for Wargs, no doubt.”

She began to smile sheepishly, “Master Gandalf…”

“I see you’ve come prepared.” He nudged her leather pack with the end of his staff, “An attempt to run away?”

“No!” she said loudly, “I… I just went to pick some summer berries for my mother’s jam. She’s been preparing the jars all day.”

Gandalf gave a gruff, “Humph,” as his staff poked further and lifted the pack flap. Just on the surface was a checkered cloth of bread and cheese and a set of flint and steel, tied together with string.

“Do you need a fire to prepare these summer berries?”

(Y/N) added rosy cheeks and downcast eyes to her sheepish face. “Did my parents send you?”

“No, my dear,” Gandalf said warmly, “I was merely on a stroll myself.”

“Are you going to take me home?”

The wizard scratched at his beard as if blind to the young hobbit’s embarrassment. “I don’t see a reason why. I would hate to disturb such a beautiful evening by escorting an excellent forester to reprimanding parents.”

(Y/N) tucked a bundle of crazed hobbit curls behind her ear, hopeful eyes returning to the old man, “I quite agree, Master Gandalf.”

“Wonderful,” he said, planting his staff forward, “Then I would like to invite you on my stroll into the woods.”

Her head perked, “I would be delighted!” And she bounced alongside his considerate pace. “I thought for sure my plans were dashed.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Gandalf said, leading the way as the sky darkened from lavender to indigo. “But now that we are on our way, I would inform you of a splendid clearing just ahead, nestled in a grove of trees.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to catch the wizard’s face, “Is that so?”

“Perhaps we could put that flint and steel to good use?”

“I thought you could conjure fire with your magic.”

Gandalf concealed a warming chuckle, “I have lit the occasional smoking pipe, it is true. But a young forester learns nothing by watching a wizard use magic.”

Little (Y/N) and Master Gandalf then spent the majority of the night in the beforementioned clearing between the trees. (Y/N) showed the wizard how she fashioned crooked arrows from fallen sticks. Gandalf taught her to blow through a blade of grass to produce a whistle.

The pair of them gathered kindling for a small fire beneath the canopy of leaves and starlight. (Y/N) attempted to create a spark large enough to set the dry grasses aflame, but after a few attempts Gandalf sent a concealed spell that made the wood smolder and light instantly.

He didn’t say anything as (Y/N) turned to him positively beaming, “I did it!”

“That you did, my dear,” he laughed, “That you did.”

They each told stories of their adventures – Gandalf’s considerably more grand with his talk of mountains and mines and the sea. Although, (Y/N)’s were far more enjoyable as she required the use of her entire body to describe exactly how large the fish was that pulled her into the Brandywine River.

Gandalf revealed a cloth bundle of his own that revealed a few sausage links and tomatoes. It sent (Y/N) down another imagined adventure where she was a famed chef of the most noble kingdoms of old. A traveling cloak she packed for the cold now tied around her waist, she prepared the food and handed a roasting stick to the wizard.

Feasting on smoked sausage, grilled tomatoes, and fresh bread, (Y/N) found herself falling dangerously close to sleep, her eyes becoming heavier and heavier.

Gandalf removed the cloth being used as a plate from her lap and sat closer in case she fell to her dreams. “I’ve enjoyed our evening together, Miss. (Y/N).”

She smiled, “I’m grateful I ran into you, Master Gandalf.”

He matched her smile, “Might I inquire of something, my dear?” At her tired nod he continued, “What prompted you to make such a journey to the wood?”

Searching for the words, she hummed. “Pervinca Took spread an awful rumor at the pond today.”

Gandalf arched a bushy eyebrow, “Your cousin?”

“Pippin’s older sister,” she said quietly, feeling the heavy effects of sleep, “She told everyone that the reason I’m so peculiar is because I’m not actually a hobbit at all. I am some halfling troll adopted into a generous hobbit family.”

Gandalf frowned, softly placing his arm around the young girl, “As you said, it is but a rumor. A form of trickery to satisfy ignorant and jealous feelings.”

“Pervinca’s jealous of me?”

“She doesn’t know how to have fun,” Gandalf tickled under her chin, and she squirmed with laughs, “And doesn’t know who she is, unlike yourself.”

“Who am I then, Gandalf?” She ended her squirming with nestling beside the old man, wrapped in the grey drapery of his cloak.

He watched her drift off to sleep, having stayed up too late for a child so young. “An excellent young forester and admirable companion. You are someone who is just beginning, yet wise beyond your years. I have no doubt that you’ll surpass the legends you create within your mind just as you have surpassed the expectations of the hobbits in this Shire.”

The old wizard sent another concealed spell of magic through the trees, requesting his waiting horse and wagon to appear. The wide expanse of the wagon filled with fireworks and other tinkering objects, Gandalf rose to carry (Y/N) to the riding bench up front.

He extinguished the fire and retrieved their supplies, giving an encouraging pat to the horse that waited so patiently when the wizard asked it to graze while he approached the wandering hobbit girl he spotted running to the woods.

They made a slow journey home, (Y/N) snug in Gandalf’s side. The old man returned to her parents, assuring them she was quite all right. He ensured her safety and peace of mind before escorting her to the hobbit hole.

They expressed their gratitude, but Gandalf merely waved them off and said, “She is a remarkable girl, that (Y/N). I look forward to the adventures we’ll have together.”

~~~

Present Day

Gandalf was a great deal many things to many people.

He was a disturber of the peace, wise councilman to all races, a mysterious traveler that peddled his fireworks, and a symbol of aid and magic.

But to (Y/N) he was her friend. A friend that spent many evenings distracting her from the ignorance and pity of the Shire through adventures in the wood and lessons of the world. Besides her family, her three cousins, and her scattered friendships with those like Samwise, Gandalf was of the few that was genuinely kind.

He was a gateway to outside the Shire – she adored and revered him.

Now he was gone.

The fellowship was somberly making their way towards the woods ahead, leaving the damnable remains of Moria behind. The only motivation to move was the fear of orcs and goblins daring to venture outside the sanctuary of their mines.

And to not shame Gandalf’s sacrifice to get them out.

(Y/N) lingered at the back of the group, scratching at the mixture of tears and earth smeared on her face. Dirt and coal and grime from beneath the mountain caked her knuckles and smudged her complexion.

It smelt of damp caves, coppery tangs, and death.

She dug in her pockets for a scrap of cloth to clean her face and relieve her of the horrid remnants of the mines. She found a square white handkerchief with the initials S.G. sewn in the corner with blue thread.

She rubbed at her eyes carelessly and rough, pulling the handkerchief away to see large blotches of black. She couldn’t make a sound as she cried, folding the dirtied cloth to a clean side and scrubbing at her chin and neck.

“Here.”

Her ruddy, blotched face found Samwise approaching, hand outstretched. The rest of the slow moving fellowship was venturing deeper into the woods.

(Y/N) bowed her head as she realized he was asking for the handkerchief. He retrieved the cloth and dampened it with his waterskin. Slowly and gently he used the wet corners to clean her face.

“We should stay close,” he said quietly, “I understand not wanting to be near the fellowship, but I don’t want you straying from my side.” He washed beneath her eyes and around her cheeks, “Please.”

She couldn’t reply, her throat strained from trying to contain her cries. She nodded instead, which seemed to lift Sam’s spirits. Boldly he offered his hand and ensured they both made it back to their companions.

He didn’t ask her to speak, only supported her sorrowful heart with his hand in hers.

The fellowship was quiet and heavy the following nights, recovering from their harrowing journey into the mines of Moria. With such a close scrape with death among everyone in the company, each member had a revigorated sense of their own mortality.

(Y/N) could see the realization within her boisterous cousins. Merry put on a brave face, but Pippin struggled to keep his cries quiet at night. (Y/N) had the suspicion that the burden of the Ring had put Frodo in this dark mindset before.

It seemed to only press Samwise to be more candid about his affections towards her. As if small confessions and the fear of loss caused him a new sense of protectiveness for (Y/N).

During another long night of troublesome sleep, (Y/N) found her eyes open at the sound of the lookout being switched.

“You’re the last,” came Boromir’s gruff, lowered tone. “You’ll be here til daybreak.”

Sam replied, “Thank you.”

It was now common that the sound of Sam’s wakeful voice stirred (Y/N) from her sleep. And this night was no different as she waited for Boromir to crash on his bedroll.

She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and rose for the log that Sam was sitting upon. After a few nights of this routine, he wasn’t so surprised to see her shadow grow from behind. He kept himself busy with something in his pack.

“Good evening,” he said quietly.

She sat beside him, eyeing the small smoldering flames of the campfire. Her words were sparse these days.

Sam was simply happy with the fact she desired his company. He pulled a thickset book from his pack, full of fresh, stocky pages. Digging further, he extracted a corked bottle and a smaller booklet wrapped with a belt.

(Y/N) watched him with an expressionless face. Since the events with Gandalf and the near death of her cousins, her lips held a slight frown in the corners. Her eyes were duller and heavy lidded.

Her heart felt stuffed in a too small chest.

Sam opened the first few pages of his book and revealed flattened flowers, glued and labeled with his quick scrawl.

(Y/N) found a piece of her buried beneath the sticky grief of memories perk up with interest. Perhaps Sam was compiling a botanical journal of plants he’d found while on the journey. She strained her eyes to read what the labels were saying.

Turning to a clean page, Sam retrieved the smaller booklet, undoing the buckle of the belt holding it closed. It opened to a page of print, but also more flowers pressed until they were flat. He delicately moved the dried plants to the garden journal.

Opening the corked bottle, a brush was pulled out stringy and thick with glue. He painted a section of the page, laying the flowers as if a prized possession. He ensured to brush the entire plant with the glue, keeping it in place.

In the upper corner he glued buds of blossom pink and speckled white, crisp and crinkled with being dried and pressed. In the lower corner he glued a few wildflowers adorned with rough grasses and wide leaves.

He recorked the glue bottle and traded it for a feathered pen, finding ink to carefully write in a clear space.

“Since you miss your gardens.”

(Y/N) blinked, “Is this a gardening journal?”

Sam hid a soft smile, “No.” He laid the book open to allow time for the new entry to dry.

“Are those…” (Y/N) continued, “Are those flowers I’ve given you?”

“Over the years,” Sam replied.

She felt her lips quiver, perhaps a smile attempting to make an appearance. “I knew you were sentimental, Sam, but that takes dedication.”

He shrugged, “I told you I’ve been dancing with the idea of you for years.” He gave her a tentative look, “It feels nice to tell you that now.”

She had to turn away to hide the warming smile on her face, “I always had my suspicions.”

“Did you really?”

“Well, when you’re tripping over yourself every time you see me and can barely speak to me, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with me.”

Sam drew in a deep sigh, “It was frustrating, is what it was. I couldn’t act like anything but a fool when you were around.”

She hummed thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t call you a fool. Twitterpated maybe.”

He nodded, “Twitterpated without a doubt. There’s always been something so enchanting about you.” His heart was quaking in his chest, but with his secret out in the open, speaking didn’t seem as impossible. “Gave me a silly crush.”

“Merry teased me about it when we were younger,” she mused, feeling the darkness of the past few days fade away, “Called me a damsel in need of a prince. He would joke that your nervous state was only ever when I was around. It sometimes made me think you didn’t like me.”

“Heavens, no,” he chuckled, “It was because I liked you too much.”

The seedlings growing in her heart had stretched into tall green stalks and broad leaves. They quivered at Sam’s tender words.

“I wish we could’ve explored it while still in the Shire.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, “Though I agree making something official now would make the journey more difficult… I hope my being candid in my affections isn’t overstepping.”

(Y/N) gazed at the glowing embers between them, a soft smile adorning her face, “In truth it makes me more determined to complete the mission and return home.”

Sam made an effort to contain the earsplitting grin trying to overtake his face. “I hope I didn’t imagine those words.”

She reached a hand over and placed it on his wrist, “Sam, I would be amiss to say I haven’t wished something more than friendship between us.” She grinned to see the wonder light in his eyes, “I’m glad to be here with you, Sam.”

He grabbed her hand between his and pressed a kiss there. “I’m going to ensure you’re by my side the remainder of this journey. I’ve got to make sure we return home together.”

~~~

Having ventured deep into the surrounding grey wood, elven friends found them quickly. Under the rule of the queen of Lothlorien, these elves led the fellowship to the heart of their forest.

The colors seemed to dim to sage and grey, somehow sparkling in the dull glow of the ancient magic of the elves. It was slow and peaceful and steady. (Y/N) could feel every beat of her heart and every breath enter her body.

Mighty Mallorn trees grew taller and thicker than all the others. Those of Lothlorien hollowed out the trunks and resided there. Small, rounded windows spiraled up the home trees, revealing candlelight and birdsong.

An elven leader, Haldir, led them to the inner city. Pale walls adorned in green, and silver sheltered them from the soft light of the sun.

It was put to shame by the entrance of the queen, the Lady Galadriel. She floated down the main staircase, a shimmering droplet of starlight descending from the heavens. She radiated elegance with every step.

(Y/N) found herself bowing her head without a prompt.

Another elf, grave and beautiful, spoke first, “Nine there are, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him.”

A hand squeezed (Y/N)’s heart.

Galadriel turned her piercing eyes from Frodo to (Y/N). “He has fallen into shadow,” she spoke quietly to her husband. She sought more answers in (Y/N)’s face and saw the dark blue rings beneath her eyes – the sunken state of her cheeks.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. You are guests here and will be treated as such.” Her mouth continued to move, but it didn’t match the words that (Y/N) heard in her head.

Galadriel was now speaking within her mind. Her hand jumped into Sam’s on instinct.

“Hello, forester. Spirit of the wood. I see your grief. I see it eating at your being.” The crystal blue of her eyes peered down at the hands of Sam and (Y/N) together. “I see your heart. It seeks comfort. Please find rest and reprieve in my home.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times before giving a simple nod. Sam squeezed her hand.

As if they’d always been there, an elf maiden motioned for (Y/N) to follow her. Making an effort to keep hold of Sam’s fingers until the last second, she whispered a farewell and followed her guide.

She was taken to one of the spiraling tree trunks, the soft white gold light of fireflies lighting their path. She was surprised to be given an entire bedchamber and ensuite washroom all to herself.

“Does this seem adequate to serve your needs?” the elf maiden asked quietly.

“More than adequate,” (Y/N) mumbled, sinking in on herself. “Where are my companions?”

“They have their own quarters,” the elf said, making her way to the washroom, “The Lady Queen thought it appropriate to give you your own room. Weeks in the wilderness with nine men seems a worthy enough reason for a girl to receive special attention.”

(Y/N) snorted, “How very gracious of her.”

But her heart yearned with a sudden pain of the moments she’d grown to love with Sam in the middle of the night when he took his turn on lookout. There wouldn’t be any need for that there.

“There are hot natural pools where we secure bathwater,” the elf maiden returned from the washroom. “Please take your time. You are free to anything in this room. I won’t disturb you until morning.”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what else to say other than, “Thank you,” before she was left alone in the large, decorous room. At the sound of a bath she suddenly felt every inch of grime on her like never before.

It was a wonder that Sam still felt affection for her with the awful state she was probably in.

Slowly, as if every step was a heavy weight that required immense effort, she walked into the washroom. It was refined with pale green and silver grey. A large, wooden bathtub resided near a window with the most magnificent view of the pearly forest.

As if the tree grew in that manner, branches circled the tub, like a bird nest securing hot water. It provided a bench of sorts for support and shelving for tasteful bottles. Not the ceramic and clay bottles of the Shire, but colored glass adorned with gold.

Picking one up, (Y/N) uncapped it to smell a beautiful concoction of strawberry and vanilla. Her mind was drawn back to the famous strawberries and cream from her home.

She promptly dumped the whole bottle into the bath.

Steam billowed as the water was mixed with the milky pink soap. It bubbled where she poured.

She relieved herself of the dirty, stained clothes she’d worn the entire journey and folded them neatly on a bench cushion. And with a great sigh of relief, she slipped into the perfumed bathwater, feeling the heat instantly work at her tired feet and knotted shoulders.

It was quiet and warm and cleansing. Not just of the dirt coating her body, but of her mind. It was like taking care of herself in that moment reminded her of a time before the darkness of Gandalf’s demise – the fear of almost losing not just her life, but of those around her.

It might have been one hour, it might have been many, but as she scrubbed her skin clean with strawberry suds there was a definite lift in her mood.

She found a long sleeved pearlescent nightgown to wear as she grabbed a comb to untangle her unruly hobbit curls. Nails polished with soap and skin dewy with berry creams and lotions, (Y/N) found herself drifting to bed on a dream cloud.

The mattress was feathered and cool with silken sheets. The pillow was even more wonderful as she sunk her face into its down stuffing.

And she drifted off instantly – exhaustion and grief pulling her eyelids close.

It was the soundest she had ever slept. Although still missing the hour when she could awaken to steal precious moments alone with Samwise.

True to her word, the elf maiden didn’t return until late the next morning. (Y/N) peacefully woke from the deepest of slumbers to a platter of meats, cheeses, and fresh fruits. Silken in the white lace dressing gown, she rolled off the bed to reach the platter by the window.

Plucking a grape she heard the door open to reveal the elf maiden. She brought with her a silver trimmed dress, fashionable to the elves of Lothlorien. It glittered like starlight on a smoky-grey sky.

“I don’t normally wear dresses,” she said quietly.

The tall elf smiled warmly, “I did notice the trousers.” She laid the fabric over her arm, so it shimmered, “But I assure you that trousers are not needed for your stay. Enjoy your time out of the wilderness with a few luxuries.”

(Y/N) smiled, eyeing the dress with a sudden heat in her stomach. The last time she admired a dress was one her mother had handsewn for Uncle Bilbo’s party. The lake water dress.

Strawberries in her hair and vanilla on her skin, she felt the desire to wear the dress. Taking a step outside of her life gave her that reprieve she sought.

“Very well,” she said, “I’m all yours.”

An hour later (Y/N) found herself descending the tree woven staircase, ashen branches guiding her steps. She had been away from the fellowship – and Sam – for longer than she ever had since the journey started.

And now she missed them.

“Bloody hell!”

She turned towards the dining hall to find Merry and Pippin.

“What happened to you!” Merry chortled, “You look like a flake of snow.”

(Y/N) looked down at her shimmering silver dress, “Compliments of our host.”

“I’m amazed,” Pippin said, wide-eyed, “It usually takes the fury of your mother to have you put on some skirts.”

“Never understood it,” Merry said, frowning at the volumes of fabric, “How are you supposed to climb any trees in that getup?”

“My thoughts precisely,” (Y/N) said, hands on her hips, “But might as well enjoy a few comforts while we’re resting.”

Merry’s nose started twitching, “Is that you?”

(Y/N) pouted her lip, lifting her arm to smell her wrist, “Orange blossoms?”

“Incredible.” Merry shook his head in wonder, “They’ve turned you into a girl.”

She punched him in the shoulder, “I was always a girl, you dingbat.”

Pippin was still trying to wrap his head around it, “Whatever happened – you’re beautiful, (Y/N).”

“The proper response,” she replied, glaring at Merry, “Thank you, Pip.” She continued on her way, following the path the elf maiden said led to the other guest quarters.

“Oh, I don’t suppose you wanted a spot of second breakfast?” Pippin called out.

Merry laughed heartily, “She didn’t come down to visit us.” He raised his brows, folding his arms, “She’s going to see Sam.”

“Sam?” Pippin muttered, “Well, he can come to breakfast too.”

“No, Pip,” Merry said exasperatedly, “She fancies him. Wants to show him her pretty new dress.”

Pippin gasped, “Well, I’ll be…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” (Y/N) said, “I don’t want to show off the dress.”

Merry shared Pippin’s gasp, more dramatically, “But you confess to fancying him.”

She put a hand to her temple, “I would say so, but I’d fear you choke on the next breath you’d take.”

“I knew there was something suspicious about how close you two have gotten.”

“Has he said anything?” Pippin inquired, leaning in as if the biggest secret was being discussed. “Has he stated his intentions?”

She flickered her eyes between the two cousins before nodding.

“Has he really?” Merry laughed, “Wasn’t sure he had it in him – I’ve only been teasing you both about it since we were children.”

“You’re insufferable,” (Y/N) sighed, “I’ll meet you all for teatime.”

After a couple winding hallways, she found herself at a stone gazebo, vines of rose buds climbed the columns. A bench sat in the center and supported the figure of Sam gazing over the railing at the ashen grey forest, glittered with white firefly light.

She went for the couple stone steps, thinking of sneaking up on him. But in a thunderous turn of events she stepped on the hem of her dress, falling to her knees with an “Ahmph!”

“(Y/N)!?”

She started giggling, a rosy, red color blooming on her cheeks and across her nose. “If I ever needed another reason to never wear a dress again…”

Sam ran around the stone bench to reach her side, “Are you all right?” He took her hands and guided her to a standing position.

“Other than my pride, yes I’m fine.” She laughed a dazzling laugh. “I came to find you.”

But it appeared that Sam was at a loss for words. His eyes were wide, and (Y/N) couldn’t tell if he was terrified or surprised – perhaps a bit of both. His lip started to quiver as if he was trying to get a word out, and his hands were becoming limp around her own.

“Sam?”

“You… you’re…”

She widened her gaze expectantly, “Yes?”

He took a deep breath and broke out in smiles and giggles, “You smell of strawberries.”

She started giggling too, “Goodness, I thought you’d forgotten how to work your voice.”

“Strawberries and cream,” Sam said merrily. He lifted her hands to his lips and closed his eyes, humming, “Orange and florals?” he smiled brilliantly, “You smell of home.”

She squeezed his hands, “The service here is immaculate.”

He pulled her towards the stone bench, a hand on her lower back and eyes on her feet to ensure she didn’t trip again.

“(Y/N), you look like a star,” he whispered, “How did you manage that?”

She pulled on the collar of her shimmering gown, showing the blush blossoming down her neck. “I assure you I had nothing to do with it. These elves know a thing or two about living high society.”

He sat beside her, mesmerized by the sight of her. “You’re positively breathtaking,” he laughed, “As made evident just moments ago.”

She smiled, brushing a shiny curl behind her ear. “I missed you last night.”

It was quiet for a few moments before Sam replied, “I missed you too.” He just couldn’t take his eyes off her, “I dreamt of you instead.”

“Did you?” she wrapped her arms around his, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Just the usual.”

“The usual?” she giggled.

He continued his gaze of the surrounding forest, “We’re sitting in a garden I planted for you. I say something that made you laugh. You press a kiss to my cheek. And I wake with a pounding in my chest.”

She hummed, “Sounds like those dreams are going to give you an affliction of the heart.”

“That’s right,” he mused, turning his head to speak into her hair, “I’ve become lovesick.”

“How terrible,” she played along, “Is it curable?”

“It’s chronic,” he sighed, “It will be an ailment I have for the rest of my life.”

She tilted her head up, “Perhaps there are ways to alleviate the symptoms.” And she pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

He smiled wide, cheeks as red as his hair. “I do believe that helped.”

~~~

The fellowship stood before the queen of Lothlorien, clean and refreshed for the next part of their journey. The young hobbits were all clad in dull green cloaks, fastened by an enchanting, forged leaf. And each were being given special gifts.

Crystal phials, little daggers, and charmed elven rope.

When it came to (Y/N)’s turn, the queen placed a delicate hand on her shoulder, guiding her to a private corner of the entrance hall.

Back in soil colored trousers and a tunic the shade of old parchment, (Y/N) truly looked like a creature of the earth beside a twinkling elven star.

“The journey you take is treacherous,” the queen said quietly, as to not be heard by the surrounding company. “But it is one that must be accomplished.”

(Y/N) nodded, “I’ve been told of the horrors possessed within the Ring. I do not take it lightly, my lady queen.”

She bowed her regal head, “Your cousin Frodo will not be able to take the Ring without help. He is alone with its torment, but he should not be alone in guidance.” She moved her crystalline eyes towards the fellowship, “The companion, Samwise… he will be sorely needed by the end.”

“Sam means a great deal to all of us.” The conversation was putting an uneasy feeling within (Y/N)’s stomach.

Galadriel returned her gaze, “Yes, I knew as much.” She cupped her hands together as if to summon something, “There will be a time when you take your separate paths.”

(Y/N)’s brow became furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You are meant to go your own way,” Galadriel smiled, but no warmth came from her. “In the distant future. But the companion Samwise will need strength as he cares for the ringbearer.”

“Why would I leave to…”

Galadriel opened her hands and two pieces of crystal rested there, “He will need your love and support to get him through the lands of Mordor.”

The crystal, no bigger than a skipping stone, was translucent and full of little fissures and fractures. The lines cracked within the crystal took shape as a petaled flower. (Y/N) felt immediately drawn to it.

“In the days before Numenor,” Galadriel continued, “A star fell from the heavens, beautiful and great. It split in two along its journey, making it incomplete and vulnerable. Each fell to their own crater, devastating surrounding forests – but encasing themselves around the flowers beneath them.”

She lifted the crystals and revealed that each was melded to a silver chain. She extended them to (Y/N), who felt hesitant to accept the gift.

“Though separated by a perilous journey, the pair never lost contact with each other. There is an ever constant link between the two. Should one be held and whispered to, the other will grow warm and empowering.”

(Y/N) finally took the crystals and felt an instant weight in her hand – a comforting weight like a hug. For the oddest reason she felt her chest fill with an inconsolable warmth, as if everything was going to be all right in the end.

“I feel something.”

Galadriel nodded, “It is their connection. Both pieces of the same star, they’re destined to be together. That is a great comfort to them; to not be alone in the world.”

“You speak as if stars have a conscious.”

“Perhaps they do,” the queen twinkled, “Give one to Samwise. There will come a time when he’ll need your empowerment. Hold the crystal close to your heart and he’ll feel it in moments of great peril.”

(Y/N) nodded, placing one crystal around her neck and tucking it down her tunic. It lay protective over her chest.

“Thank you, my lady. Thank you for your care and hospitality.”

“Farewell, dear forester. Keep your other half close.”

And (Y/N) had the sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t meaning the crystal halves.

Later as the fellowship approached the River Anduin, (Y/N) lagged at the back of the company, prompting Sam to do the same.

She untucked the crystal flower from around her neck.

Sam widened his eyes, “Where did you get that?”

“It was my gift,” she said, smiling, “I have one for you as well.” She drew the other from her pocket and stood on her toes to put it around Sam’s neck.

“What is it?” Sam questioned, picking the crystal up from his chest, “It… it feels warm.” He started to smile, and not purposefully.

(Y/N) smiled too, holding her crystal to her heart, “It’s a token of my love.”

Sam went still, but his eyes whipped to hers, “Hm?”

She spoke softly, trying to contain her widening smile, “I have it’s equal. They’re a bonded pair. Whatever is held in the one will be felt in the other.”

“And you are…?” he seemed edging on desperation to get to the base of the subject.

“Holding it with love,” she said, “Can you feel it?”

Sam swallowed, “I feel as if my heart might burst.”

“Again with the heart affliction,” (Y/N) laughed quietly, “If I had known loving you would cause you such danger…”

Sam was getting more and more frantic the longer she talked, “I… you – gracious…” he held the crystal tight on his chest, his face the epitome of beaming.

(Y/N) started to giggle, the crystal beneath her hand growing heavy and warm, coursing through her whole body until she ached with the sight of him. “Sam, are you trying to tell me something?”

Her head began to swim with airy thoughts of East Farthing roads and Party Tree dances, all while in the arms of Sam. Her chest was full of flower buds just beginning to bloom.

Sam was almost quaking with the ache of his heart. He was desperate to touch her. Desperate to hold her. His chest was blossoming into something great and irresistible, and it gnawed at him.

She loved him.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, “For how long I could not say. But it is undeniable at this point.” He took a step towards her.

She took a shallow breath. “I’m not sure I can wait until the Shire for us to be together.”

“I thought it a silly notion to begin with,” Sam said almost breathless, raising his hands to cup her cheeks. “I don’t want to waste another second not declaring my love for you.”

She raised her own hand to cover one of his on her cheek. She remembered Lady Galadriel’s prediction that (Y/N) would eventually leave the fellowship for her own path. She did not think it possible to make such a decision with Sam at her side. He was leaning in closer, the heat of his face making hers warm.

It made the connection of their lips all the more searing.

~~~

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frodo-with-glasses · 2 years ago

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I have a rule in my audiobook reviews that I can only use them to comment on the sound design, voice acting, mixing, etc. Y’know, things the audiobook is adding to the book, not the book itself. I can’t use those posts to comment on Tolkien’s writing; that is reserved for my chapter reviews. But I listened to this bit the other day, and I just can’t get it out of my head, so I need to scream about it some more.

For context, I encourage you to listen to Phil Dragash’s recording of “The Ring Goes South”; Merry’s section here happens within the first two minutes, and I promise it will be two minutes well spent.

All done? Good. Now let’s talk about that voice acting.

@tolkien-feels described Merry as “probably the least warm and fuzzy of the hobbits, but you’d have to be extremely dense to fail to notice how deeply he loves”. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Out of all the hobbits, I think Merry can be accurately described as "the Smart One"; he seems to be the leader of the Conspirators, definitely the logistics and details guy, and the best spoken out of the four main hobbits, second to Frodo. Compared to Sam and Pippin's big emotions, and Frodo's whining melancholy, Merry stands out as the most reserved and even-tempered, almost stoic for a hobbit.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't have some deep emotions under that calm surface, and I think Mr. Dragash's voice acting in this passage brought that out fully—in subtle, but unmistakable, force.

Listen to Merry at the beginning. He's so quiet at first. “I don’t wonder [that you want to rest], and I wish you could.” My mind immediately conjures an image of him with his elbow on the sill of the open window, pipe in hand and smoke milling around his head, but a little furrow between his eyebrows that could only be seen if one knew what to look for.

He sounds so thoughtful. So pensive. Like he’s still thinking about how it felt to watch Frodo suffer from the wound in his shoulder. The quiet thrum of anxious fear as he watched a member of his family, someone he loves nearly like a brother, grow pale and weak and listless over the long weeks. The little twinge in his chest every time Frodo winced while climbing onto the pony; the hatred he felt for every step that Frodo had to take over rough terrain, stumbling and weary and nearly blind.

Did Merry feel any phantom pain in his own shoulder, or in his heart? Did he offer a hand to Frodo when he stumbled, or let him lean on him when the path was wide enough for two? Did he weep in private like Sam did, or simply sit in silence, and stay up as late as his exhaustion would allow him, staring into the growing darkness and worrying? How did he feel in that instant when they found Frodo's crumpled body face-down on the other side of the Ford, pale and still, and the horrid thought flashed through his mind that "maybe he's dead"?

Three days, Frodo lay in a bed, talking to himself but not awake, and slowly growing more translucent. Three days, even the Elves couldn't find the cause. Three days, Merry sat around like we do in hospital waiting rooms: biting nails, or pacing, or reading as a distraction but not really able to pay attention to what's on the page, feeling tiny and helpless and terrified and silently praying that people smarter and more skilled can save the ones we love.

And then, the splinter was found. Frodo recovered. If Merry had been holding his breath the whole time, he could let it out now. Frodo was up and about in no time, eating and walking and laughing, and there wasn't a thing in the world that Merry could possibly worry about.

And then, all this happens.

Yes, Merry wishes Frodo could just rest. Both for Frodo's own sake—because he's been through enough already, by heaven—but also to ease his own worries, because he loves him, and the thought of Frodo walking off into more danger is yet another burden on his mind.

It's a burden he takes up willingly, of course, and with aplomb if anyone needs convincing. He just wishes it wasn't necessary.

But now his mood shifts. He turns his head away from the window and addresses Frodo directly, and a little more lightly in spite of the subject matter. "But we are envying Sam, not you."

There's a little bit of rueful humor and fond annoyance in his tone here. "Not everything is about you, all the time, you dramatic half-wit." At the same time, he's speaking plainly his frustration with the situation, with a little humor to soften it.

"If you have to go, then it will be a punishment for any of us to be left behind! Even in Rivendell." Yes, he knows it's lovely, yes, the waterfalls are beautiful, yes, he has more food than he could possibly want here, but that doesn't matter. He made a decision—heck, he made a promise. "We are coming with you, or following you like hounds."

"We have come a long way with you, and been through some stiff times." He sounds proud of this, and he has right to be. Frodo's three companions have been "tested by fire", so to speak—or rather tested by tree, and barrow, and a very long walk—and they've proved themselves of sterner stuff than first imagined. That should be credentials enough to allow them to stay at Frodo's side, and to risk even greater danger. Even if that's not a very impressive résumé to the wise and the powerful, it should still be enough to convince Frodo of one thing: "We love you, darn it, and you're not getting rid of us that easily."

"We want to go on." Oh my word, this line. Five little words, and so much nuance in them.

One of the simultaneously lovely and infuriating things about LotR is the scarcity of italics used in dialogue; it leads you to use your own imagination to determine the way each sentence is delivered. Most of the time, it's fairly obvious, but here, Mr. Dragash's reading completely changed the way I interpreted this sentence.

First of all, the emphasis on want. An affirmation, and sort of a spotlight, on the fact that this is their free will, and also a slight challenge to oppose it. "You think you have our best interests at heart? You want to make us happy? Then respect our decisions and desires. Namely, our desire to stay by your side.”

Secondly, the little rise in his voice in go on. It's a tiny, tiny thing, but it hit me upon listening to this again. His voice doesn't drop into a determined but grim growl; he doesn't think of "going on" as a gauntlet of hardships to be feared but grudgingly endured. He says "go on" like it's an opportunity, another step in the adventure, the ultimately happy continuation of their journey thus far. There's a little touch of hope and optimism in the way he says it. Will it be difficult? Yes. But fundamentally, he believes it will be good, and that outweighs the difficulty.

Both of those things put together chances the tone of the sentence—now it’s not just a simple restatement of the thesis of the argument, but also an impassioned plea for Frodo to understand just what this means to his companions, and how important it is. You can almost hear Merry leaning forward for emphasis when he says it. “We want to go on.” And the implication is, “please understand this; it’s very, very important that you do.”

Did Mr. Dragash think this hard about the delivery of these lines when he read them? Probably not. But maybe it's even more of a testament to his acting that I can pull so much meaning out of a few sentences. As someone who is also fairly reserved on the outside but has huge emotions under the surface, I relate to Merry, and I'm delighted to see him portrayed like this. We quiet ones always have a lot we're thinking about, and it's there if you know how to read us.

Or maybe I'm just rambling nonsensically about nothing because it's nearly 3 AM and Merry and Frodo apparently own my heart now LOL

#meriadoc brandybuck #merry #frodo baggins #my writing #lotr audiobook #audiobook #phil dragash #lord of the rings #lotr #long post #in which i wax eloquent about tiny vocal inflections for WAY too long

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luna-redamancy · 2 years ago

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Hi, I am so excited and happy that your requests are open. Can I ask for a Legolas x hobbit reader. Where the reader is Frodo Baggins twin sister. Legolas and reader both are in love with each other. The onlything is that they don't know how to confess to each other so they dance around the fact they both are in love with each other. The group is annoyed that neither one of them won't confess their feelings so they try to get them together but it doesn't work. Every time somthing bad happens. You can write the rest however you like just a happy ending at the end, please.☺😊😄😃

Hi Nonnie! Forgive me if this fic isn't the best, I still feel like I've been hit by a bus but hey! I can sit up now with relatively small effort! I do hope you enjoy it:

“Be careful next time, alright?” Legolas’ voice was soft as he gave you a once-over. His eyes drifted from the crown of your head to the bottom of your feet, scanning meticulously for any injury that needed attending.

“I’ll try,” A cheeky response is what your words would have been if you weren’t constantly in danger on this journey from wargs to orcs to bandits, even ringwraiths. You truly could not help if you got banged up from time to time.

“I know you will,” His eyes found themselves back to yours, seemingly entranced by you, his expression going from one of worry to something more gentle.

“May I tell you-” Legolas began to ask only to be interrupted by Boromir crashing through the camp, Merry on his right leg with Pippin on his left.

“Get his arms, Pip!” Merry yelled, and the two launched themselves from his legs to his arms, dragging the son of men down to the ground with triumphant yells.

“Dinner is ready!” Sam called out as a cue for everyone to make their way over.

“I guess we should go, then,” Legolas smiled at you, question forgotten as the two of you approached the group again. Little did you know, the group was tired of waiting for Legolas to stop dancing around the subject and began to take action.

That was the first time of many that Legolas attempted to tell you his feelings. The second time was at a pub that the Fellowship found themselves at to escape the rain, where his attempt quickly was flushed out when a drunken Merry spilled ale down the back of your tunic, your expression morphing quickly to one of horror and then to rage as you stood.

As you left, you failed to hear Merry call out to Pippin; “It didn’t work!” Their plan to get you into Legolas’ room for some private time failed as you stormed off to your own.

The final attempt was after Helm’s deep, the situation being oddly similar to the very first attempt with Legolas ensuring your safety, however, this time, Gimli has had enough.

Legolas was mindful of your bruises as he wrapped your injuries where luckily blades only scraped at your skin rather than successfully stabbing you, eyes swimming with worry as he scooped salve onto your bruises after he was finished.

“I’ll be alright, Legolas, no need to worry too much,” You grinned, “I think Aragorn may need some more medical attention, I swear I heard his shoulder pop out of place,” You grimaced as you recalled the sickening ‘pop’ noise that rang through your ears as he shielded you from an orc ax.

“I think Legolas is too preoccupied,” Gimli chuckled, making you raise your brow. “What do you mean?” You inquired, not catching how Legolas’ face hardened into a death glare at the dwarf.

“Oh y’know, just the fact that he is too wrapped up in his own feelings for you that he’s blinded to anything else, he probably wouldn’t even realize it if his own arm was chopped off.”

Legolas moved to interrupt him but you placed a hand on his shoulder, shifting to fully look at Gimli.

“Gimli, are you saying-”

“The elf is in love with you, little one.”

“Gimli.” Legolas’ voice was harsh as he stood, towering over the two of you- an intimidating sight to behold, but Gimli only chuckled and waved him off.

“Good luck,” He whistled as he left, ax flung over his shoulder as he went to go sharpen his weapons.

Legolas turned to watch him leave, his back stiffened and shoulders squared.

“Is he right?” Your voice broke him from his murderous thoughts, Legolas turned to look at you once more.

“Do you love me, Legolas?”

Legolas couldn’t deny you, no, not when you looked at him like that. Eyes so full of hope and love.

“I do, with all my heart.”

The grin that broke out on your face made the irritation from Gimli worth it, in Legolas’ opinion, heart thumping wildly in his chest as you beckoned him to crouch so you could hug him properly.

“Finally,” Aragorn whispered with a grin, his lit pipe resting on his lip as he watched the two of you hug.

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schrijverr · 3 years ago

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Promises You Made to Me

Chapter 1 out 3

Aragorn falls for Boromir on their journey. When they realize they share their affection, they also know that the time is not now to act upon them. Both promise to share love once they see the quest done, a promise that long seems a broken oath. Still, the horn was heard in more lands and the Elves have not yet forsaken this world

A Boromir lives AU where they fall in love before Boromir falls at Amon Hen, but Aragorn only learns of his survival after the defeat of Sauron.

On AO3.

Ships: Aragorn x Boromir

Warnings: thinking someone died, injury

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: I Can’t Promise You Fair Sky Above

It was hard not to like Boromir, Aragorn had soon found. Despite their introduction and the vast amount of unspoken issues between them, he could not help but like the Son of Gondor.

The man spoke of his home easily and with much enthusiasm, keeping the Hobbits entertained with stories from his youth and history. He walked without complaining, making sure everyone could walk with him and watching over them steadily when it was his turn.

He was always ready to lend a helping hand and Aragorn appreciated how he would help think about the next step and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and offer insight or protest when he thought a foolishdecision was being made.

Not only that, but he had taken up the duty to teach the Hobbits to fight. Merry and Pippin took the most interest in the craft and it was a joy to see Boromir in his element when he taught them. He would grin and a proud aura would surround him.

Boromir kept the spirits high and was unmissable when muscle was needed.

It didn’t hurt that he was not bad to look at eitherand Aragorn found his eyes often wanderingto Gondor’s finest. Though he would look away when their eyes met, for he felt guilty about the reason behind his gaze, since Boromir was a Lord and not someone for Aragorn to gawk at.

However, it didn’t come as a surprise that Boromir had noticed this. He was a trained soldier and was aware of how to read people at a court. So one day, he came up to Aragorn keeping watch and sat down, saying nothing for a short moment.

“I know I did not make the best impression when we first met, but I had not realized that my behavior caused this much strife between us,” Boromir opened. “I apologize. I hope we can move past this.”

Aragorn still looked up in surprise. He had not realized that this was how Boromir would interpret his gazes and it startled him for a moment. “Yes, I see your gazes,” Boromir chuckled sadly when he saw Aragorn’s reaction. “I’m no Ranger, but I know when someone is avoiding my eyes.”

Quickly gathering his bearings, Aragorn replied: “I- It was not my intent. I do not have hard feelings about our introduction, I know I cannot ask blind following when I have not been present in Gondor. Legolas gets ahead of himself.”

“Ah.” It was clear Boromir had not expected that reply and he took a moment to rethink his strategy. “Well, then I do hope we can come to some agreement in companionship. Unless there is another reason for your avoidance of my company...” he trailed off, not in question, but in request of Aragorn to speak up if there was something else bothering him that prohibited any further friendship.

“No. No, there is not,” Aragorn said, for there was no reason to deny Boromir’s friendship, save for his heart speeding up as he felt Boromir heat beside him.

“I am glad,” Boromir smiled and Aragorn thought to himself: ‘I had not yet seen him smile at me before now. I should change that. It is a very good smile. His eyes crinkle and the feeling of kinship comes to mind when I look upon it.’ And what else could he do, but smile back?

The smile still lingered on his face as he looked back out into the wild for threats and it did not seem to leave until sleep claimed him once his watch was over. Since Boromir had watch after him, hedecided to keep him company until that time came.

As they sat next to their camp, keeping watch in the day for they only traveled through the night, they talked of such normal things that the contrast with their mission seemed absurd.

Boromir, for example, recalled the drunken tale of him and his brother, who had left a farmer very confused as of why his goats had bows upon their horns. In turn, Aragorn told Boromir of his foster-sister Arwen using him in a plot against their brothers, for they dared not to turn against the youngest of them all, who they viewed as innocent and how the he and Arwen had used that against them for manyyears.

It was a merry hour and it saddened Aragorn to see it over. But he did not deem it wise to stay seated next to Boromir any longer, since looking at him with a reason, made it harder to look away when there was none.

The other man was hypnotizing in a way Aragorn had not encountered before. He was sturdy in his frame, open in his manner, both smiling easy, while hiding a thousand burdens in his eyes that Aragorn longed to understand, but did not feel entitled to unwrap.

Looking at Boromir seemed both simple and too complex.

Aragorn yearned for a friendship with the other, a relation beyond mere traveling companions, but he did not know how to keep it a friendship, nor how he should hold himself around Boromir whilst knowing that at one point in their journey, he might become Boromir’s King.

Was it wrong for a King to look upon one of his subject with more affection than platonic? Most Kings did not marry out of love, but politics. And in dark times like these,would allowing the possibility be wise?

Questions Aragorn did not know how to answer kept him busy while they marched ever closer to the Misty Mountains over which they would have to travel.

During their journey, Boromir was frequently closer than before, choosing to walk at the rear alongside Aragorn and sitting next to him during the small leisure time they had.

And when Boromir was close, he had the tendency to talk. It was something most of the Fellowship had noticed early on, but the Son of Gondor did not like the silent marches and would often strike up conversation or talk to everyone in general, leaving it up to his audience whether they would listen or tune him out.

When Boromir talked, Aragorn often found himself amongst the ones who listened. Boromir had a nice, soothing voice that was great for telling tales of splendor, while at times being near philosophical as he pondered the goings of the world in times like these.

Listening to Boromir was both stupid and smart, for if he listened, he would not have to talk and mess things up, but listening made the affection he already harbored for the other grow.

Where he had first believed Boromir to be more muscle than brain, he was soon disproven. From his tales it became clear that Boromir had a sharp mind. He was a sound strategist and he easily weaved in the social complexities of history into the tales he told of the valor of Gondor.

It was interesting to talk to Boromir and Aragorn did so gladly. He found himself talking of his own home and the Dúnedain as well as the way of the Elves that housed him for so long along with his days as a Ranger. And while he talked, Boromir listened.

That was another factor he had not counted on when he had first met Boromir. The man had seemed steadfast in his own ways, stubborn to a fault and unwilling to listen when needed. Yet, here he was disproven once more.

Boromir would remember little details conversations later and recalledpeople that Aragorn had mentioned sparsely before. Aragorn did not know this was a skill the Steward’s Son had picked up as Captain, for men are more willing to follow you into battle when they know you care about their well being and person.

So, they both talked and both listened, until Aragorn sought out Boromir’s company of his own accord. He had not noticed he did so, until he came back from gathering edible plants and found that the seat next to Boromir had been saved for him, since it was his usual place in the camp.

It made him still for a moment, before walking on and settling down, focusing more on dinner than his company that evening.

And that night as they walked, he was amongst the ones tuning out as Boromir started his talking again. At this point he must have recited his entire military career, moved through much of Gondor’s history of the Third Age and gotten to know everyone’s life. Aragorn now knew more of the Toby Leaf’s history than he ever thought was needed for one, but Merry had been happy to explain in detailand Boromir had listened equally content.

But Aragorn did not know which tales he graced them with that night, for his mind was wondering when he had become so close with Boromir.

He did not recall when he got used to settling down next to Boromir every day, nor when listening to Boromir became more important to him than listening for threats, but he found it to be true. The affection he had for Boromir had blossomed into natural closeness.

At first he thought that the embers of a crush he had before, were nowextinguished ashe got to know the other man and form a friendship with him. Upon closer inspection of his feelings, however, he found instead that the opposite was true.

The speeding of his heart had become normal whenever Boromir was near and he felt the heat upon his cheeks with every grin send his way. His feelings had shifted, sure, but they had shifted from attraction to a deeper affection. He had become more infatuated with Boromir through their friendship.

It was a startling discovery, for while Aragorn was used to appreciating the physique of those around him, it did not often happen that he was enthralled beyond their features.

Yet here he was and he had discovered that it was not just Boromir’s strong arms or handsome face that kept him ensnared. Instead it was the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, the gleam in his eyes when he talked, the softness when he listened and the comfort in his presence. He cherished their talks more than their practice fights.

He caught Legolas’ eyes and the Elf smiled quietly, eyes quickly flitting between Aragorn and Boromir, before turning away. It would seem others had caught on quicker to the will of his heart than he himself.

When Legolas held watch that day, Aragorn checked to see if those around them were asleep. With Boromir laid next to him, it was easy to determine his steady breaths as true.

“So there is still time for old friends, I see,” Legolas jested, mirth in his eyes when Aragorn sat down next to him. Aragorn looked away in shame, for he had not realized how much he had been ignoring the Elf.

“Do not be so dour, Aragorn,” said Legolas. “No one here blames you for being drawn to the Son of Gondor. And your oblivion has been my entertainment for the past weeks. It’s been long since a story like this has beenwritten.”

Aragorn glared at Legolas and huffed. “No story like this is being written, for it would not be just for a King to look upon his Steward like this.”

“I did not know you had accepted your destiny, my friend.”

“I- I don’t. I haven’t,” Aragorn protested. “But it is a path we might walk on, no matter our beliefs or desires and if that is to become my future, I should know better than to act like there is something owed to me that is not. I will not put him in a position where his choices are to ignore the wishes of his King or do something he does not want to.”

Legolas was quiet for a moment, mind processing Aragorns outburst. Then he smirked: “I do not think he’ll be doing anythinghe does not want to, if you were to ask him.”

“What?” Aragorn looked up in shock. He had not detected any reciprocation in the eyes of Boromir, just friendly affection that he shared with everyone of the Fellowship.

“You are blind,” Legolas sounded surprised. “For one who claimsElven decent and senses beyond normal men, you havenot seen that Boromir loves you too?”

He had not yet used the word love to describe his affection for Boromir, though the word had been echoing in his mind, but he did not think it wise to use that word, for it made what he had been attempting to avoid more real.

“I do not, nor does he,” he answered. “And we know my senses were not meant for internal factors, but threats.”

“If my Elf eyes are not mistaken, you have not been watching for many threats as of late, my friend,” Legolas had again that knowing look in his eyes and Aragorn found that he did not care much for that look upon his friend’s face.

“You do not know what you are talking about, Legolas.” It was a pitiful attempt at deflection and Aragorn knew it.

Legolas raised a pointed brow, but said no more of it, save: “We both know that is a lie, but I shall not further pressure you, for it is clear to me that you are not ready for it.”

And after that he stayed true to his word and said no more during his watch of Boromir, no matter if it was Aragorn, who opened up the topic. Instead choosing to comment on the landscape and the many nature wonders he had seen on this journey.

Aragorn did not try then, just taking the opportunity to talk to his friend, but the conversation had left much on his mind.

Did Boromir carry the same affection?

He did not think so. Still he watched Boromir carefully as they climbed the Caradhras. The man did not act differently than before, he walked with Merry and Pippin, making sure the two Hobbits did not falter. From time to time, he looked back, checking the rear like a good Captain would, smiling when his gaze met Aragorn’s.

Much to his embarrassment, he found that he smiled back without thinking whenever it happened. So, he focused on Frodo in front of him, the Ring-bearer should be his biggest priority.

Still it was hard not to let his gaze wander back every time. It was a strange thing to look to Boromir like he was a puzzle instead of his friend. He did not know which clues to look for, there were not tracks for him to read and he found himself thrust into unknown territory.

He started to wonder whether Boromir’s gaze on him was the same as the gaze he had for the Hobbits, a glance to ensure they were okay. Or if it were a gaze for Aragorn alone, one of special weight, with deeper meaning.

Aragorn could not decipher it. After all he had seen in his life so far, this was the mystery that stumped him. No matter what Legolas said, he could not see in Boromir’s eyes what had seemed obvious to the Elf.

It was a frustration, he did not know how to deal with.

Much to his chagrin, or maybe not (he did not know how he felt about it), Boromir noticed. It was even more frustrating that that was the only part he was able to pick up on in regards of Boromir, the fact that the man noticed he was watching him.

He loathed a confrontation that might come of it, so he kept close to others of the Fellowship, hoping that being with another person would discourage conversation about the topic.

Luckily, despite the misfortune, the topic was soon of the least import in their mind, for the evil will of the mountain had turned against them. Snow came down heavily and soon they had to cease their ascent and wait until they could turn back.

Boromir kept Merry and Pippin close, pulling his cloak around the three of them as they huddled close to the fire. Aragorn did the same with Frodo and Sam. Boromir had not lied when he’d called outthat this would be the death of the Hobbits.

If they made it through, it would be a miracle. This was a truth that was heavily felt throughout the entire Fellowship and it was not the moment to talk about trivial things as a few extra gazes. So instead Boromir tried to keep up the Hobbits’ spirits by telling them of the snow men he and his brother had build in the past and the epic snow battles they held.

As was custom, Aragorn couldn't help but listen, smile stretching over his face as the image of a young Boromir, already thinking himself a great Captain, leadinga charge in the snow came to his mind.

Soon the Hobbits’ slept, but the two men could not rest, for they feared that if they did not keep watch, their fickle lives would slip through their fingers.

So they sat in the cold of the mountain, counting the hours until the snow let up enough to turn back, a tactical retreat as Boromir called it. He also spoke again of going through the Gap of Rohan and again Aragorn had to refuse.

“The Gap is too dangerous a road to take now, Boromir,” he said.

“And this is not dangerous? Was it not folly to try this mountain? We are snowed under and our Ring-bearer might not make it through. Was this not a mistake?” Boromir countered. “And what other road can we take?”

Aragorn understood Boromir’s frustrations. From a tactical standpoint it would seem wise to seek out allies, for their road was already full of perils and a place to replenish strength would be a good place in the eye of any captain.

But they did not know how far the hand of Saruman had reached in those lands and they could not risk exposing more hearts to the clutches of the Ring. It would be unwise to think they would be safe in those lands.

Now just to make Boromir see that.

“Our road is dangerous, yes,” Aragorn said. “And this was a risk we should not have taken, but the Gap of Rohan is a risk we cannot take also. Saruman has betrayed us and it is not worth it to test how well he protects his borders.”

“I do not hear you offer another road. We also cannot risk staying on this side of the Misty Mountains. We have to cross.”

Aragorn had no answer to that, but he did not have to, for Gimli answered: “There is another road that we can take. We can go through the Mines of Moria.”

Both looked up in surprise. They had not realized anyone was listening to their conversation and having the private moment broken up startled them. So they said nothing as Gandalf replied: “I have told you before, Master Dwarf, that I hope to avoid that passage, but it will be up to the Ring-bearer to decide.” And both stayed silent after those words.

The next morning Frodo decided their fate and Boromir and Aragorn busied themselves with clearing a path back through the snow.

Neither said a word to the other, both too exhausted by their labor and unwilling to talk. Though, much to his dismay, Aragorn found himself getting distracted by Boromir doing his part and would sometimes have to be snapped back to work when Boromir looked his way.

Still, they made it off the Caradhras and safely down to the entrance Gandalf did not agree with, which made Aragorn uneasy, though he tried not to show it.

His unease was validated by the Watcher, lurking in the water. Yet, he was glad, for it was Boromir at his side when he charged and he knew Boromir would not falter in the face of this danger and have his back.

And in the darkness of the Mines, it was Boromir once more that eased his mind. He was there with him as they walked through thepitch black and while Gandalf had urged them to be quiet, it was the familiar steady footfalls of Boromir that kept Aragorn focused on the road ahead.

They had not spoken again since the Caradhras peak, but despite Aragorn’s attempts to avoid any lone conversation, it was during his watch that Boromir came to him once more. He was aware that Boromir used strategy of trapping him while on watch and he couldn't help but smile at the tactic solution Boromir had for such a simple thing.

“First you have been looking at me, then you have been avoiding me. I do not know what I have done to earn your suspicions, but any ill willed accusations you have of me, say out loud, for I am not welcoming of this backhanded wariness.”

Again, it would seem, Boromir had misinterpreted his gazes and again Aragorn found himself having to choose between Boromir’s hurt or opening a bit of his heart. It was an easy choice to make.

“I do not distrust you, Boromir. You are a dependableally and I am grateful for your presence.”

“Then why do you avoid me? Why do you first stare only to avert your gaze a moment later? You smile at me only to fight me then evade me after. What am I to think of that?”

Aragorn was glad for the darkness, for he did not think he could have lied, if he had seen Boromir’s gaze restheavily on him. And he did not think he could have been honest, when looking into those piercing eyes.

“It is not easy, Boromir. I might become a King one day, but I do not wish for that to be my fate, for my blood is that of a weak man, who gave in to corruption. Yet it seems that I am the one of my bloodline that is to reclaim the throne. It is difficult for me to know how to act around you and getting a glimpse of who my people are, is confusing at times.”

Boromir was quiet, the words churning in his head. The he hesitantly said: “Are you judging our people based of me? Am I an assessment to decide if you’ll go through with you destiny? Because I care not for being a pawn, when you have done nothing to protect Gondor and her beauty.”

This was not how Aragorn had envisioned thisconfrontation to go. His mind scrambled for something to say, so that he would not lose the companionship he had with Boromir. In that moment he cursed his cowardliness that had made him lie and not tell Boromir the truth.

“No, Boromir. No, that was not my intent with my words. I- Let me think how to explain,” he begged. “I hold you in high regard, but I know you do not wish to see me on the throne of Gondor. If more think like you, then I do not see why it is my destiny to take a throne no one wants me to have. I know not what you think of me nor how I am to act around you and it seems my attempts to try and figure it out have not been as subtle as I had hoped,” he finished helplessly.

Again Boromir was quiet and Aragorn braced himself for whatever reaction he would get from the Captain. Then, softly at first, then a bit chocked as Boromir tried to quiet himself, he started to laugh.

Relief washed over Aragorn at the first sounds of the joyful giggles, though confusion was on his mind for he knew not what humor Boromir found in his explanation.

“I- I apologize,” he finally got control of himself. “There is no humor in your attempts to try and better understand your position in the world. I merely find amusement in how we manage to misinterpret one another yet again. And the fact that a skilled Ranger such as yourself has difficulty with the subtlety of signs, you would think came normally.”

The latter part was obviously a jest and Aragorn found himself flushing at the teasing, once again grateful for the darkness that cloaked him.

He chuckled as well and said: “It would seem so. The tracks of people’s faces are quite different than those of animals in the ground.” Then he got serious once more. “I do not know, if I’ll fare well in a court with my skills.”

“I think you’ll fare as well as any man,” Boromir said. “Maybe even better. If you truly want to know my thoughts, then I think you have much to learn, or maybe much to show you already can do, before you are ready.”

“Aye?” While it had not been his primary reason, now that Boromir was offering, he was curious for any input to the other issues that had been plaguing his mind.

“It is clear that you are a great warrior, though I have not yet seen you in a proper battle, nor with men under your command. I have not seen you negotiate, though I have seen at the Counsel that you are willing to listen to those with expertise. I know not how you will be with the people of Gondor, nor that you know of her customs, but you seem to listen to my tales, so there must be a willingness to learn,” said Boromir. “For now, you are too much on an unknown, who has not been there for Gondor in her darkest days. I cannot judge you wholly, but you have earned my respect and I am also grateful for your presence.”

Aragorn thought that a just assessment. He had told Boromir that he did not expect blind following when he had done nothing to earn it and it would be fair to say that Boromir did not need to see him as King until he had proven himself worthy of the title.

“Thank you for telling me, I will try my best to get ready for the burdens that come with a title I might one day carry,” he said. “It is good to have you here, Son of Gondor.”

He could not see Boromir smile, but the bump of their shoulders was friendly and it was audible in his voice when he spoke: “You’re as much a Son of Gondor as I am, Aragorn, but I still welcome your efforts. I will not gift my City lightly.”

“Will you tell me more of her people?” Aragorn asked. He was not sure if the question came from genuine interest or because he wanted to please Boromir and liked listening to his stories.

Still the gesture was appreciated. “I will, but only if you promise to tell me more about yourself. I am quite curious about the Ranger of the North that dwelt in Elven courts.”

And to that, Aragorn agreed. There in the darkness of the Mines of Moria, with no other indication of the other beside light touches and the warmth that the other radiated, they talked softly.

Boromir told him of the markets, the people of the lands, the Lords in their mansions and the soldiers when in their barracks. In every word he spoke, Aragorn could hear the fierce love Boromir held for his people. He heard how Boromir was not just a prince in a castle, but a man of the people, who loved him dearly for that. He got swept up in Boromir’s tales and a part of him wanted to see the City as Boromir described it, instead of the one he had seen long ago.

Aragorn supplemented Boromir’s stories with tales of his own. Small stories of the people of Bree and his fellow kinsmen, who protected the North. It was easy to talk to Boromir as he had long since discovered. Boromir was approachable and likable.

In fact, it was hard to keep much from him. It was as if he subconsciously interrogated you, easing your mind while asking probing questions. And Aragorn found himself wanting to tell Boromir the less than proper thoughts that had been on his mind.

“Boromir, I-” He did not finished the sentence, unsure of what to say. ‘Boromir, I actually have been in love with you since Rivendell? I thought you were merely attractive at first, but you’re also kind and I cannot help but fall for you? I’m afraid to become King, because then it would be more stupid for me to love you?’

It seemed he had been quiet for too long, for Boromir inquired: “Aragorn?” with concern tinting his voice.

“Oh, uhm, well-” he started out once more, mind torn between telling Boromir it was nothing or confessing. He never got to choose, because the sound of a stone falling into the well came from behind them and soon the armies of Moria were upon them.

They fought, they won, they ran, they lost.

Gandalf fell and for a while grief and getting further was all that Aragorn could think off. Boromir was on his radar, but more as someone to keep everyone going and watch the rear as Aragorn now had to lead.

It was much later, in Lothlórien that they even considered talking normally again.

“Take some rest. These borders are well protected.” Aragorn did not like Boromir’s posture, normally so proud and tall, now miserable. He wanted to ask what was plaguing his mind, but he did not dare for it was not his place.

“I will find no rest here,” said Boromir, stubborn set of jaw, yet anxious in his speech. “I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me ‘even now there is hope left.’ But I cannot see it.”

Aragorn’s heart clenched for the utter hopelessness that was in Boromir’s voice and he wondered what had happened that had made Boromir so distrustful in the hope of others.

“It is long since we had any hope. My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing and our people loose faith.” It was clear Boromir was partially talking to himself and needed someone to listen to him more than someone to talk with, “He looks to me to make things right and- and I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored.”

The burden that Boromir carried was clear, though he seemed to cover it up by want. As if he was proud for the weight on his shoulder, not willing to acknowledge that it was too much and Aragorn did not know how to ease it.

Boromir took a breath. “Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?”

“I have seen the White City. Long ago.” Aragorn sensed that Boromir needed a bit of familiarity, someone, who could understand his home. While Aragorn was not wholly that person, he longed to be it, so he tried.

“One day, our paths will lead us there and the tower guard shall take up the call: The Lords of Gondor have returned.” There was again that glimmer in Boromir’s eyes when he spoke of his home and Aragorn’s heart gave a fond beat, wanting to keep that look there. “One day we will,” he agreed, “but it might not be for many months that we may do so.”

Boromir looked desolate again. “No, it might not be.”

“Hold your head high, Lord Steward. Our road may not lead to Minas Tirith, yet we do serve her and her protection,” he said. “You’ll see your home in due time.”

“Aye, you are right, Aragorn. Still, my heart tells me that I will not see my home as it is now ever again and my fears would have me believe that the next time I see it, it will be in ruin,” Boromir confessed. “There is not much else to think now that our wisest member has fallen. What chance is there to succeed now?”

While he had not dared to ask what was plaguing Boromir’s mind, the man had offered up the answers himself. Now Aragorn was left with a raw soul that he could not soothe. He could only offer platitudes. “We will try our best to do what we set out to do,” he replied, knowing it was nothing.

“That is your answer? We’ll walk into our death, for there is no other road you’ll consider?” Boromir asked, bitter anger dripping from his tongue. “What more do we have to loose before you realize this is folly?”

On a rational level he could understand that this anger came from the grief of losing Gandalf, but his mind was not ready for the rational and he snapped back: “I am not a punching bag for your grief, Boromir, son of Denethor. I know your opinionsand just because you are hurting over the loss of Gandalf, does not mean that I am not. I miss him, he was my friend. But he is gone now and I will see his will through to the end, no matter how much I love yo-”

He cut himself off, eyes becoming big as he had realized the revelation that had plunged from his lips in his moment of upset. He had never meant to tell Boromir. He had decided so when the darkness claimed their leader. There was too much to loose and he could not risk getting more attached. It was only grief fueled anger that made him confess.

“…Aragorn.” Boromir had equally wide eyes as he reached out to him, but his fingers never touched the arm that was quickly retreated, for Aragorn fled.

Behind him Boromir called out again, but his attempts to follow were made in vain, since Aragorn was more familiar in Elven lands and his longer legs with long strides carried him away. He could not believe how foolish he had been, nor how he would face Boromir or the rest of the Fellowship again.

Swiftly he walked through strange, yet comforting woods, until a small alcove hid him from prying eyes that would notjudge his tears to be from something other than grief.

Today he had made another mistake to go upon his list of regrets. Boromir did not love him, he was still on trial to become a King, love would not be considered by Gondor’s favourite Son. It was but a wishful dream in his mind and now he would have to endure the rest of this quest, with painful distance and obvious rejection.

It hurt more than he had expected, even if he had prepared himself for loving in silence. Not knowing if it could ever be, was less hurtful than knowing that even if everything had been different, it still would not come to pass.

He curled up into himself, reminiscent of hiding in the halls of Rivendell when he had been upset as a boy.

Of course, in Rivendell Arwen or Elrond or even Elladan or Elrohir would come find him and cheer him up, but there was no one to cheer him up here. He was all alone once more and the crushing loneliness had never felt more prominent.

He had not wanted to tell Boromir, for he feared he’d get too attached that it would cloud his judgment. However, a part of him had known it was too late and he was already attached to the smile of Gondor’s finest. Now, he just had to bear the fact that the smile had never been for him at all.

Why had he let his emotions get the better of him? He should know better as Isildur’s heir, he should have learned that desiring something did not mean he got to keep it. Was he not meant to learn from the mistakes of his forebears?

What if this ruined the quest? What if his mouth got them all in trouble and the rift between him and Boromir would never truly heal? What if Boromir would not have his back anymore, now that he knew what was in Aragorn’s heart?

Aragorn let himself linger in the halls of doubt that were inside his mind, never realizing that he had never confirmed his rejection before he fled.

So it came to be that familiar footsteps broke Aragorn out of his exile of self-pity when it was already far too late to turn back. He still attempted to do so, but before he could flee, a heavy hand stopped him in his tracks. “Please stay for a moment, Aragorn.”

And Aragorn stayed, for he had not yet mastered the art of saying no to Boromir on the little things regarding himself.

He sat Aragorn back down onto his seat and took the one next to it. Boromir was quiet for one antagonizing moment, before in an unsure voice he spoke: “I do not know if it was but a trick you are playing on me, but your reaction to your own words seemed genuine enough that I am inclined to believe them to be true. Would that be correct, Aragorn?”

Boromir stayed quiet and it became clear to Aragorn that he was indeed waiting for an answer. After a moment’s hesitation, Aragorn softly confessed: “Aye.”

“Then why did you run?” Boromir asked.

Aragorn snapped his head his way and fixed Boromir with a glare. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Aye, I want to understand, Aragorn.” Why did he have to sound so earnest?

“Because, I might become your King one day, Boromir. Because you would have to choose whether you shall obey me or defy me, while you know not whether you shall accept me as a King at all. I cannot expect my feelings to be reproached when you still need to judge my worth. Not to mention the dangers of the road. I cannot love you only to loose you, Boromir.”

Once he had started speaking, he found it hard to stop and Boromir listened attentively as was his custom. For once Aragorn did not know whether he was grateful for the quality or if he wished Boromir would shut out the too honest words.

When all the words that had been bottled up inside him had deserted him, he breathed heavily and awaited Boromir’s response.

“You are a fool, Aragorn.” At this Aragorn winced. “You are a fool to think that I would judge my King by the same standard as my lovers. You have earned my respect long ago, my affections maybe earlier. And I am not of the kind that will do something against their will. As I offer myself to you, know that I mean it wholly.”

Aragorn looked up in shock and Boromir chuckled at his face. “Yes, Aragorn. I never indented to act upon it, but it is hard not to fall for your charm. The tales of your exploits in Lord Elrond’s Halls make me smile fondly and your tracking skills make me awe. You also are closer to being my King than you believe, I just wish to see Gondor in good hands. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“Of course.” It was easier to react to the part least concerned with his heart while his mind spun to incorporate this new information. “I- I can’t- I can’t loose you, Boromir,” he repeated.

“I know, Aragorn. I know,” Boromir said. “It would kill me to see you gone as welland I know not how to proceed from here. I would have you as mine, if the time was so not dark and the hour not so pressing.”

He leaned his shoulder against Aragorn’s and Aragorn rested his head upon it, his hand clasping Boromir’s. If he could be granted a wish, he would have wished to be in that moment forever, his body warm against Boromir’s as he thought. Secure that in the quiet, Boromir loved him.

Then he slowly moved to loosen the clasp of his necklace, before gently gifting it to Boromir’s neck, fastening the clasp with tenderness. “This was given to me by Arwen,” he explained. “It is so that I would not forget the Elven Halls that were my home.”

“Aragorn, I cannot take this,” protested Boromir.

“It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart. And Igive this to you as a promise,” Aragorn pressed on. “I promise that I will try to see this quest through alive and keep you alive through it also. I swear by this that once our land is safe, we can try to see what can happen between us in times of peace.”

There were tears pricking in Boromir’s eyes, for he knew Aragorn was right. While they were on this quest, they had not the time to act upon the affection between them, save the conversations that were already commonplace and their bedrolls besides one another.

He grasped the Evenstar brooch softly in his hand. “I swear to live to see your promise to me fulfilled.” Then he smiled and his face became less formal. “Still, I hope you’ll allow me one kiss, before we start our agreement.”

That Aragorn could most certainly agree to and he leaned in closer waiting for Boromir to close the gap between them. His lips were chapped, yet soft. They pressed firmly against Aragorn’s, but they did not demand more than Aragorn could give as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

It was a permission, Aragorn granted eagerly and he was swiftly carried away by a gentle hand cupping his cheek, while the other clutched at his clothes. He lost his breath in the kiss, yet he had never felt more alive.

When it was over and Boromir pulled away, he had to gather his wits about himself for a moment. As he did so, Boromir smiled: “That is one memory to keep me walking on long roads ahead. We should head to dinner now though, I do not think Pippin will forgive us, were we to miss a meal now that we have it. Hobbits are quite peculiar about food.”

Aragorn remembered four Hobbits wanting to stop for a second breakfast, now already ages ago and smiled. He would not let go of the memory of the kiss either, but he knew better than to linger on it while they emotionally could not. Instead he agreed: “They very much are,” before leading the way through winding paths.

At dinner it was only Legolas, who noticed the jewel now sitting on Boromir’s neck and raised a brow at Aragorn, who shook his head softly, urging the Elf not to ask.

And so they lived with the knowledge of a potential future held close in their heart. It might be war, but was war not the place for love? For if there was no love in war, who did they fight for?

The only indication of their newfound closeness that was kept platonic for the sake of the quest was their bedrolls that found their waycloser to each other when they camped on the shores and watchesspend together, gazing at the stars and the eyes of the other.

Yet not all things that were good, were meant to last. The darkness was ever growing and no matter the love Boromir held in his heart for Aragorn, he had long since learned that his duty came first. Andthe voice of the Ring had twisted that love for his people into something ugly beyond recognition.

Still Aragorn had not yet accepted the gleam in Boromir’s eyes as corruption, perhaps blinded by love and unwilling to accept it as something other than the proud stubbornness he knew the other man held as well, perhaps it was the Ring influencing him to be blind.

No matter their affections, there were points they fundamentally disagreed on. “Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know that. From there we can regroup. Strike out for Mordor from a place of strength.”

Aragorn pictured the Ring surrounded by hearts that had been corrupted like Isildur’s, the land that had been the origin of the weakness in his own blood. “There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us.”

“You were quick enough to trust the Elves,” Boromir shot back and Aragorn said nothing, while rolling his eyes mentally, willing Boromir to see his point of view. “Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that.”

In that moment Aragorn found himself becoming irrationally angry yethe did not want to snap at Boromir, even if he bristled at Boromir judging him to be less of his perception of men, when he already judged him if he was worthy of a throne he had not asked for. How much more judgment would Boromir need to pass on him?

However, Boromir was not done with him yet and gripped his tunic, his touch for once not comforting, but aggressive. “You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows.” And Aragorn was trying not to react as he let Boromir rave. “Scared of who you are, of what you are.”

With that Aragorn wrenched himself free. He was not listening to this. He was trying so hard and Boromir knew that, Boromir knew what was stopping him, what scared him. He was being viscous on purpose.

He began to stalk off, but a small dark voice whispered in his mind to snap, to make Boromir feel that hurt pit in his chest that Aragorn felt now. “I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your City.”

That night their bedrolls were on opposite sides of the camp and neither held the other company during their watch. They did not speak the next day either.

As they peddled he did not look at Boromir, though his eyes wanted to stray over to see if the Son of Gondor was safe still. He fought it. While he might have said things to hurt, it had been Boromir who started the confrontation and took it too far. It had always been Aragorn apologizing or explaining himself on this journey and he would not be the one now.

So with clenching heart he kept to himself, hoping that this would not unmake whatever chance they had at an us.

“Where’s Frodo?”

Merry’s words snapped him out of his despairing thoughts and his eyes scannedthe campsite for their Ring-bearer. Instead of a Halfling, they fell upon an abandoned shield and a cold wave washed over him as he realized what it had been that made Boromir unnecessarily cruel yesterday.

When he found the Ring-bearer, his words made the cold that was already upon him, burrow into his bones and flow through his veins. Would Boromir ever recover from the corruption of the Ring or would he never again be the man Aragorn met and fell for?

It were not questions he had the time to ponder, because Uruk-hai were marching ever closer and he had to ensure he would see Frodo to safety for as long as he could. Still, he could not help but think of his promise to Boromir as he tried to stay alive on the hills of Amon Hen.

As he was driven back Legolas and Gimli joined him and he looked back frantically for Boromir, fear clouding his heart as he envisioned an out of his mind Boromir, encountering Frodo aloneonce more, or even the other Hobbits alone and unprotected.

Then a loud horn blow echoed over the hills and another outcome he had not considered gripped his heart and twisted it. It was undoubtedly Boromir’s horn, the same horn he had blown when they left Rivendell for he refused to be a thief in the night. The horn that meant Boromir was in trouble too large for him to handle on his own, while they were with three.

A new vigor he did not know he possessed settled intohis soul as he ripped through the forces of the enemy, trying to reach the sound in time.

Boromir had multiple arrows in his chest and a large Uruk-hai pointing a killing shot at his face when Aragorn arrived.

Laterhe could not tell how he got there, but soon he found himself dropping down next to the body ofBoromir, eyes filled with unshed tears and a thousand apologies upon his lips. If only he had talked to Boromir, if only he had seen, if only he had paid attention.

Still as he laid there, it was his Boromir. He knew that no Ring could ever care about the well being of the Fellowship, especially the Hobbits, the way Boromir haddone. And even if he laid there, pierced by many arrows, he said: “They took the little ones.”

It was not Aragorn’s concern for now, as he desperately tried to staunch the bleeding of too many wounds.

“Frodo?” Boromir was panicked, which was not helping his condition. “Where is Frodo?”

“I let Frodo go.” Aragorn would not lie to him in what might be his final moments. He squashed the thought, but it was still prominent in his mind.

“Then you did what I could not.” It was a laboring speech, lungs filling with blood. “You need not worry about your blood, for it was I, who was weak and gave into corruption. I tried to take the Ring from him.”

His words about Isildur reflected back at him in this moment soundedout of tune in his ears and he cursed himself for giving Boromir the idea that he was ever weak. Aragorn knew he had not been free from the Rings voice and it was mere luck that saved him from being its main target. “The Ring is beyond our reach now.”

“Forgive me. I did not see… I have failed you all.”

Aragorn hated to see Boromir like this. He had always been so sure of himself, relishing his history with the pride of a man, who valued his honor. He would not let him lie there and speak ill about himself, not while he was still breathing. “No, Boromir. You fought bravely. You have kept your honor.”

He could not let it end like this. He would not let it end like this. They both made a promise and the jewel on Boromir’s neck was a token of this. He would not allow this to be the end of the tale of Boromir the Bold.

While he did not have much, he made the best attempt to bind the wounds, but it was a foolish attempt and cloth colored deeply and fast.

“Leave it! It is over… the world of Men will fall and all will come to darkness and my City to ruin… Aragorn…”

No, Boromir could not give up on Gondor. Aragorn knew the hope had been fading from Boromir’s heart for many years, but not a day ago he was telling him about the courage and honor of Men and when he spoke of the White City, he only spoke with love. Aragorn would not let him die, thinking all he loved was lost. “I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you… I will not let the White City fall, nor your people fail…” It was an oath he intended to keep.

“Our people,” Boromir corrected. “Our people.” And Aragorn could cry. He had stopped trying to tend to the wounds, but this made him try again. He could not give up on Boromir after he had given him so much of himself.

Still, when Boromir’s hand reached for his sword, he helped him even if he knew why the other reached for it. He chocked through the blood his final words: “I would have followed you, my love… my Captain, my King.”

And then Boromir was no more.

For a moment the world did not move. All was silent around him as he looked upon the fair and quiet face before him.

A bout of aggression came over him and he shook the limp form of Gondor’s favourite Son as he cried and raged. “You promised me you’d live. I promised you that I would protect you. I command you to live, Boromir. Do not make me an oath breaker. Do not make me loose you… love, please, come back to me.”

No matter his rage or cracking voice, there was no reaction.

Aragorn suddenly felt far removed from the forest, the hills, the stench ofthe dead. He was floating above it, not grieving, but pausing, as if he could make the world rewind until it was right again if he just distanced himself enough.

From above he saw himself kiss the forehead of his beloved, the skin still warm under his lips as it had been in Lothlórien, yet completely alien. “Be at peace, Son of Gondor,” he whispered and left athelas on his wounds, even if he knew it would not bring Boromir back. It was a waste of resources to make him feel like he had done something for Boromir when he had failed him so.

Behind him Legolas and Gimli appeared, both seasoned warriors and understanding what had just happened to their comrade. They fell silent. Legolas knew what Boromir had meant to Aragorn and Gimli had most probably put the pieces together as well.

Softly Aragorn brushed the hair out of Boromir’s face and straightened the jewel on his chest, before taking the bracers of his arms and strapping them to his own. It felt fitting, a piece of his home in exchange for a piece of Boromir’s.

“They will look for his coming from the White Tower, but he will not return,” he said, swallowing hard.

Yet he knew what he had to do. They had not the time to bury Boromir like the Kings of old and Aragorn vowed he would return for him. If not to bury what was left of him, then to build a monument in his honor where he had fallen.

For now he had a promise to fulfill.

“Boromir did not die in vain. I will not let him,” Aragorn said. “While Frodo, Sam with him, is beyond our help, Merry and Pippin still need us. I will not abandon this Fellowship so easily. Take only what you must. We travel light. Let’s hunt some Orc.”

Within minutes they had ditched all that they must and were on the run, an hopeless rescue mission that was mind-numbing in the chase, while vital for Aragorn’s heart. He would not fail Boromir, he would win in Boromir’s name and be the best King he could be for their people.

What the three hunters did not know was the soft beat in Boromir’s chest, for he had not been an oath breaker and he could not disobey a command from his King. Brought back from the brink, he lay there with athelas keeping him on the edge of life.

They also did not know about an Elven group, hurrying down the river to answer the call of a horn that demanded aid.

The three hunters could not know that slowly Boromir was heaved into a boat, loosing his horn to the river as the Elves rowed him to their forest, where the one who could heal him resided, if he were to survive the trip.

So, they fought for a friend they thought dead.

A/N:

Thisis not really based in canon, but I like the idea of Boromir talking during marches. It might have started as a way to ease the minds of the soldiers under his command, or just something to stave of the boredom and a habit he picked up after marching often.

Also I like the idea that Aragorn is a great King, who is v good at negotiation and stuff, but the moment it’s abt Boromir, he looses all chill and skills he has. He’s a gay disaster, ur honor and I love him.

It has not as much dialogue as I would like, but there seemed no place to fit it in and this style of story comes natural to me now and I am quite happy with it still :D

I tried really hard with Tolkien’s writing style and while some parts are better than others, I am happy with my attempt bc it was a bit of an experiment.

The title and chapter titles are from Hadestown, the number Promises, bc I have emotions about it.

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swanimagines · 6 years ago

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TO-DO LIST: IMAGINES/ONESHOTS

I do my requests in order I'm inspired in, so your request might get written today or after several months.

Legolas x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine teaching your and Legolas's children how to use bows and arrows.

Nancy Wheeler x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine Nancy protecting you from the Mind Flayer.

Steve Harrington x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine Steve constantly holding your hand when you’re in danger.

Ben and Klaus Hargreeves & reader [The Umbrella Academy]

Imagine being a ghost and being good friends with Ben and Klaus.

Steve Harrington x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine Steve not wanting you to see him in his Scoops Ahoy uniform because it makes him insecure, but when you finally see him in it, you can’t help but tell him how good he looks in it.

Natasha Romanoff & reader [MCU]

Imagine spending your time on the run with Natasha after Civil War.

Polly Gray & child!reader [Peaky Blinders]

Imagine being an orphan on the streets and Polly Gray taking you under her wing

Barley Lightfoot x reader [Onward]

Imagine playing board games with your boyfriend Barley Lightfoot, and getting competitive at it

Kurt Wagner x fem!Summers!reader [X-Men]

Imagine being Scott's sister and immediately hitting it off with Kurt when you visit the school.

Kurt Wagner x reader [X-Men]

Imagine being a student at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters and Kurt falling in love with you

Kurt Wagner + Warren Worthington x reader [X-Men]

Imagine Warren and Kurt fighting over you, because they both have a crush on you

Hank McCoy x reader [X-Men]

Imagine being Hank’s assistant and the whole school shipping you together, because you two are always constantly flirting in the classroom

Archie Hopper x reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine owning Perdy the Dalmatian and Henry doing all he can to get you and Archie together, like you were in the Enchanted forest

Jefferson x princess!reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine being a princess and running away with your true love Jefferson after your parents refuse to let you marry him because he is a commoner.

Aragorn x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine meeting Aragorn in Rivendell and the moment he lays eyes on you, he falls helplessly in love

Stiles Stilinski x reader [Teen Wolf]

Imagine you and your boyfriend Stiles finally agreeing to get matching tattoos, despite your fear of needles.

Bard x fem!reader [The Hobbit]

Imagine suffering an injury during Smaug’s attack that leaves you blind. But to your surprise, Bard insists on making you his Queen anyways, because he loves you

Luke Patterson x reader [Julie and the Phantoms]

Imagine your boyfriend Luke discovering you have a talented singing voice that you never realised you had, because you are too shy to sing in front of anyone, so he encourages you to record an album in the recording studio

Jaskier x reader [The Witcher]

Imagine Jaskier looking at you with love while you are singing to your daughter

Yennefer of Vengerberg x reader [The Witcher]

Imagine dancing with Yennefer at a ball

Geralt of Rivia & reader [The Witcher]

Imagine being making sure Geralt always feels welcome and safe in your village

Loki Laufeyson x reader [MCU]

Imagine Loki teasing you when he sees that you can’t take your eyes off him, whenever he is in a suit

Steve Rogers x fem!reader [MCU]

Imagine being Steve Roger’s girlfriend and him threatening a group of HYDRA agents who have taken you hostage

Bucky Barnes x reader [MCU]

Imagine Bucky always getting flashes of you when he escaped HYDRA and having no idea who you were to him, and later learning from T'Challa that you two had been dating during he was a Winter Soldier, and you had been killed by HYDRA.

Tauriel x fem!reader [The Hobbit]

Imagine being Legolas’s sister and falling in love/having a crush on Tauriel

Frodo Baggins x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine being Frodo’s childhood friend who he has a crush on and him getting irritated when Merry and Pippin flirt with you

Regina Mills & sister!reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine being Regina’s younger sister, and helping her escape her marriage to King Leopold

Gideon x reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine falling in love with Gideon and helping Belle and Rumpelstiltskin get his heart back

Lambert x fem!reader [The Witcher]

Imagine being a female warrior and catching Lambert’s eye after he sees you take down a man twice your size

Peter Maximoff & reader [X-Men]

Imagine being a new student at the Professor Xavier's School of Gifted Youngsters, and becoming friends with Quicksilver, but he keeps getting you into trouble with his pranks.

Rey Skywalker & reader [Star Wars]

Imagine Rey teaching you everything you need to know about being a scavenger after you are stranded on Jakku.

Luke Skywalker x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine constantly trying to admit to Luke Skywalker you have a crush on him, but you get nervous whenever you try to tell him.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine reuniting with your husband Poe, after you believed he died during a mission.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine comforting Poe after he has nightmares about being captured by The First Order.

Nina Zenik x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine sharing waffles and hot chocolate with your girlfriend Nina Zenik.

Jesper Fahey & reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine gambling against Jesper.

Nina Zenik x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine having a mental breakdown and Nina Zenik helping you through it.

Matthias Helvar x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine petting baby wolves with Matthias Helvar.

Lydia Martin x reader [Teen Wolf]

Imagine leaving romantic poems in Lydia’s locker everyday.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine Poe protecting you from danger.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine being a friend of Poe Dameron and after you crash your X-Wing and wake up at the med bay, Poe is there and confesses his love to you.

Bruce Wayne x reader [The Dark Knight]

Imagine your boyfriend Bruce Wayne patching up your wounds after he rescues you from the Joker.

Alfred Pennyworth + Bruce Wayne & reader [Gotham]

Imagine being Bruce Wayne’s older sister and Alfred teaching both you and Bruce how to fight.

Peter Parker x reader [Marvel's Spider-Man] 🌙 anon

Imagine having a crush on Spider-Man and being friends with Peter through college, and him confessing that he's the Spider-Man.

Stiles Stilinski & Martin!fem!reader [Teen Wolf]

Imagine being Lydia’s little sister and always solving cases with Stiles.

Selina Kyle & sister!reader [Gotham]

Imagine being Selina Kyle’s older sister and playfully teasing/hinting that Selina is in love with Bruce, as much to her stubborness.

Pietro Maximoff x reader [MCU]

Imagine Wanda knowing how Pietro feels about you so she tries to talk him into asking you out on a date, because she knows you like him too.

Jonathan Crane x fem!reader [The Dark Knight Trilogy]

Imagine being Jonathan Crane’s girlfriend and you being the more observant, quiet type and you like watching what he is doing with his experiments than participating in them.

Peter Parker x reader [MCU]

Imagine getting kidnapped by Thanos, and your boyfriend Peter Parker rescuing you.

The Joker x reader [The Dark Knight Trilogy]

Imagine the Joker taking an interest in you at one of Bruce Wayne’s parties.

Jaskier x reader [The Witcher]

Imagine being in love with Jaskier, but feeling hurt/heartbroken when you see him and Yennefer together, because you think they’re together, unaware that Jaskier is in love with you too.

Thor Odinson + Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader [MCU]

Imagine Thor and Loki both falling in love with you, a stable girl at Asgard who looks after their horses.

Éomer x fem!reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine being Faramir’s sister and Éomer going to him to ask permission to court you.

Samwise Gamgee x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine planting a tree with Sam on your wedding day, and watching it grow together over your long years of happy marriage.

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader [X-Men]

Imagine having a newborn child with Kurt, and your life as new parents.

Newt & reader [The Maze Runner]

Imagine Newt trying to help you feel comfortable as the new addition at the Glade when you come up in the Box.

Kurt Wagner x reader [X-Men]

Imagine being flexible and knowing gymnastics and showing off your skills to Kurt, who's amazed by them.

Sly Cooper & reader [Sly Cooper]

Imagine Sly cheering you up after you didn't do good on the field.

Max Mayfield & reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine being Max’s older sister who’s dating Steve, and supporting Max get through her depression by reminding her that Lucas and the rest of her friends love and care about her.

Eddie Munson x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine making out in bed with Eddie.

Archie Hopper x reader [Once Upon A Time] @funkysora

Imagine Archie finding you upset when he's on a walk with Pongo and reassuring you he's not pretending to care about you.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine Kaz recruiting you to the Crows, but you refuse because you have cats to take care of in your apartment. (Might extend this so Kaz could make a compromise)

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Kaz has a crush on the reader and the Crows try to get him to confess his feelings for her.

Rewrite of part 1 of “Hugging for the first time” with Kaz Brekker [Shadow and Bone]

The prompt + Kaz work better as a oneshot so rewriting it, the original is kinda cringy to me now XD

Rewrite of part 1 of “Bed sharing” with Kaz Brekker [Shadow and Bone]

My most popular Kaz fic but again, kinda cringy now when I know more about Kaz and I want to rewrite it because I’m a basic bitch and love one bed trope…

Kaz Brekker x fem!Starkov!reader [Shadow and Bone]

The reader is Alina’s older sister and a very powerful witch, but only Alina and Mal know about it. The Darkling tries to manipulate her into his schemes but after the Crows kidnap her, Kaz finds himself developing a deep attachment for her. (Might alter the idea a bit because the original request is a bit messy)

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @marvel-sixofcrows

You are slowly left out from the heists, and you don't know why. One day, you fight with Kaz about it and decide to leave the Dregs. You just didn’t think what would follow from you leaving…

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @system-to-the-madness

A heist mid-winter near the docks was already something that made things freezing, but you would have rather skipped the ice bath dip. At least you thought so, before your boss showed you his rare piece of affection…

Pin Hawthorne x fem!reader [Free Rein] @brekkers-desigirl

You are in a relationship with Pin, but you haven’t had the need to advertise it around as it’s still fresh. When the Mistletoe Ball is coming, your best friend Jade tells you that they all know that Pin is finally going to ask Zoe to the ball, which makes you feel insecure. Would Zoe really be better option for Pin?

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Based on these headcanons.

Benny Watts x reader [The Queen's Gambit] @col0rlord

You're gambling at a casino where Benny attends a chess tournament and he's impressed to see how much money you win.

Morpheus x fem!reader [The Sandman]

You're suffering from depression, your child happens to get Morpheus's attention while dreaming and it results in Morpheus attempting to help you.

Morpheus x fem!reader [The Sandman]

You get stood up on your 4000th marriage anniversary because he's helping Calliope.

Sherlock Holmes x reader [Enola Holmes]

Imagine Enola and John Watson playing matchmaker for you and Sherlock, when you’re both too stubborn to admit your romantic feelings for each other

Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader [Narnia]

Imagine being Lilliandil’s sister and Edmund falling in love with you

August Booth x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine buying August a new typewriter for his birthday

Regina Mills x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine trying to go on a nice normal date with Regina, but some trouble or another always interrupts

August Booth x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine August teaching you how to ride his motorbike

Killian Hook x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine Hook/Killian/Detective Rogers desperately trying to find you after Mother Gothenburg kidnaps you, and him comforting you afterwards, when you’re saved

Peter Pan x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine meeting ex lover Pan again in the underworld and he convinces you to help him get out

Peter Pan x fem!reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine being Hook’s daughter on Neverland and somehow ending up being the lost boy’s mother instead of their enemy, in which Pan falls in love with you

Mr. Tumnus x reader [Narnia]

You're friends with the Pevensies (another war orphan the Professor too in) and go with them to Narnia, you're kind to Tumnus and it results in him falling for you.

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone] @trfanglophile

Opening up about your asexuality to Kaz.

Kate McCallister x fem!reader [Home Alone] @multifandomfix

Kate loses Kevin again at a shopping mall and panics, but you step in to help her.

Pin Hawthorne x Phillips!fem!reader [Free Rein]

When Raven goes missing, Zoe pushes you and Pin find him, telling you she's too busy. Something tells you there's something more to it though.

H2O: Just Add Water gang & reader

When you strand ashore after a storm, you're terrified to be seen by humans - and just your luck, there's four humans standing around you when you wake up. But your misfortune turns out being luck after all.

Pin Hawthorne x fem!reader [Free Rein]

When Pin is sick, you step up to help Arthur in healing him.

Ellis x fem!reader [The Convent]

When demon-turned-Catherine tries to kill Ellis, you decide you won't let it happen.

Rupert Travis x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

Rupert being jealous of you and gets insecure.

Connor x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

Connor being jealous of you when your colleague at the precinct and gets overprotective over you.

Markus x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

Markus being jealous of you when Leo flirts with you.

Rupert Travis x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

You meet Rupert and end up helping him after discovering he's an android. He's distrustful of you at first but then slowly warms up.

Wylan Van Eck & reader [Shadow and Bone]

You're his sister who finds out he's working for Kaz Brekker after months of searching for him.

Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @hotforloki

You bring Aleksander back from the dead because you need his help for a plan you have to destroy your enemy. (Note for the requester: "vague evil plans" + a oneshot request don't match as a oneshot is meant to be a longer piece, so I made up a scenario, sorry if that's something you don't like)

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Nikolai was in love with you when he was a teenager, a servant Grisha at the palace, but you ran away when you had problems with the king. Years later, he meets you again and realises he never stopped loving you.

Nina Zenik x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine having a panic/anxiety attack and Nina Zenik comforting you and calming you through it

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Kaz saving you from ending up in crossfire.

Lance Sweets x reader [Bones] @number-0-iz

An AU where he survives.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @eiandreia

You're both powerful gang leaders and natural enemies because of that, but when you save Kaz during a heist you ended up together, your feelings for each other shift.

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x goddess!reader [The Sandman] @lovingclare

You and Morpheus had this casual relationship for centuries, occassionally using each other purely for pleasure, but then Morpheus realises he has fallen in love with you. You reject him, which ended in Morpheus banishing you from his palace and disappearing completely. A century later, he comes back... and has a new view on things. But can you forgive him?

Luke Patterson x Molina!fem!reader [Julie and the Phantoms]

Being Julie's sister wasn't always glamourous, seeing Carrie was pouring her frustration towards Julie's success on you. But when you show up to the garage with bruises after you refuse from stealing one of the songs Luke wrote for Julie, the boys get concerned and decide to teach Carrie a lesson.

Luke Patterson x reader [Julie and the Phantoms]

Luke and you pretend being a couple for your upcoming album, but then you realise there's a seed of truth to your lies...

Rachel Roth x reader + Jason Todd & reader [Titans] @hikaru1188

Jason gets a sniff on how you feel about Rachel, and that results in an awkward situation.

Jack Dawson x fem!reader [Titanic]

You see how Jack and Rose become friends, and after befriending Rose too, you wonder if she would be better fit for Jack. But fortunately, he's there to make you feel better.

Markus x fem!reader [Detroit: Become Human] @n-nubxs

Having feelings for your uncle's android caretaker is unfortunate. When you think he's out shopping for groceries, you decide to relieve your pain and sing a song you composed about your feelings - but you have certain someone listening in.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @cant-help-simping

Your compulsive lip picking when you're stressed or anxious has been a problem for a long time, and now at your new workplace at the Crow Club, you're worried your strict boss has something not-so-nice to say about it.

Sitara Dhawan & sibling!reader [Watch Dogs]

Having Sitara as your big sister wasn't always fun, especially when you also joined DedSec against her wishes. You know she's just worried for your safety, but... sometimes you wish she'd let up. But her worries become reality one night when you decide to take on a mission by yourself by sneaking out.

Rey Skywalker & sibling!reader [Star Wars]

Having a literal war hero as your sibling definitely doesn't help your depression - you feel smaller, more insignificant than ever before. But fortunately she's also the best comforter when you feel that way.

MJ x reader [MCU]

When MJ finds you crying and bruised in the closet, she demands to know what happened. You confess you're being bullied after months of trying to hide it, and fortunately she has the right person to solve the situation.

Morpheus x fem!Burgess!reader [The Sandman] @kpopgirlbtssvt

Your grandpa's always forbade you from visiting the basement ever since you were a child, but when you reach adulthood, curiousity gets the best of you. And what you find, completely turns everything you thought about your grandpa's upside down.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @lucien-calore

Seeing you sick, feeling you cold and clammy... rotten. Jordie. That was something Kaz didn't want to feel when touching you.

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Kaz gets jealous when he sees you and Nikolai get close after you save his life and cuddle up to him.

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x fem!reader [The Sandman]

You think Morpheus doesn't like you so when a handsome, kind guy shows interest in you at a party, you end up kissing him. But when Morpheus sees it, it results in a serious talk and his feelings might not be as platonic as you thought.

Pin Hawthorne x reader [Free Rein] @alabamasweettea

Cute moments with Pin and you, budding romance.

Barley Lightfoot x reader [Onward] @cartoonykat

Having a movie night with Barley.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @thepoetsdiedatthislake

When Kaz manages to upset you once again, Nina dives in to scold Kaz. It takes a bit, but eventually Kaz agrees to try and apologise.

Jin Sakai x fem!reader [Ghost of Tsushima] @hufflepuff-girl-1996

You've been Jin's personal servant ever since you were both teenagers, and you've developed deep feelings for him since. When he comes back from the war, you're overjoyed - but also heartbroken when you see he has a woman with him.

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

You're just a servant whose employer's daughters managed to smuggle into a royal ball. And of course, the prince Nikolai himself catches your eye, and apparently the feeling is mutual. But you know he wouldn't accept a servant girl... right?

David Friedkin x reader [Masters of the Air] @mysoftboybensolo

Being assigned to nurse a wounded soldier back to health isn't an unusual task, but this one is a little trickier than others, especially when unexpected feelings start to emerge.

Daniel x reader [Detroit: Become Human] @lazysnitch

After a stressful day at work, you get a panic attack during a phone call with your roommate Daniel and he makes a beeline home from shopping groceries.

Aragon x fem!reader [Lord of the Rings] @camilaguayo6789-blog

You participate in the fellowship even though your boyfriend doesn't approve, but he knows he can't stop you. That doesn't stop him from taking care of you though.

Rachel Roth x reader [Titans] @hikaru1188

Rachel apologises for ignoring you.

Susan Pevensie x wife!reader [Narnia] @fairy-geek-ackerman

One night before bed, you spontaneously decide to dance together in your bedroom.

Enoch O'Connor x fem!reader [Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children]

Your mother took Miss Peregrine and the children into your loop with your own family, as she's very good friends with Miss Peregrine. You're not sure what to think of these strange, sometimes even scary, children, but then one of them gets interested in you when he hears about your experiments...

Wylan Van Eck x gn!reader [Shadow and Bone] @chaos-notclaire

Kaz pairing you up with Wylan was usually a pleasant thing as you get along so well, but heists were a different thing, as your feelings for the merchling distracted you a lot. And when you almost get caught by a guard, Wylan does something you don't expect.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Late night talks with Kaz while he works are fun, but this night the discussion turns into something deeper. And on a quiet moment, you drift off, which makes Kaz want to do something he has to psych himself for.

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

When there's a violent outburst between Grisha and Otkazat'sya and Nikolai fails to contain it, you need to do a sacrifice you don't know you can recover from.

Raven Reyes x fem!reader [The 100]

You and Raven are totally into each other, everyone sees it — except for you two. When Raven starts acting weird after seeing you and Emori spending a lot of time together, you try to get closer to her again, and that eventually makes you blurt out something you don't mean to.

Hank McCoy x fem!reader [X-Men] @thatonehotguy15

A figure skater's worst nightmare is falling on ice and ending up with a sprained ankle, but fortunately you have Hank helping you when you struggle.

#to-do list

25 notes · View notes

elvish-sky · 4 years ago

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Shut Up, Aragorn {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: So this was a whole lot of fun to write! It’s literally just pure, self-indulgent fluff but whatever, it’s what I needed. I’m a sucker for this trope, and I obviously love including shipper Aragorn so this was just a dream come true. I’m sorry it’s kinda short, but I hope you like it, Anon!

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Hi, so I was cooking something yesterday and came up with an idea for Legolas x reader fanfic!!! I'm really hoping you could write it... So I don't usually like cooking and it's not something I'm very good at I came up with an idea that reader is with the fellowship and one day she decides to cook the meal but she's in fact a terrible cook and she completely ruins the stew/meal/whatever they were having that day, and everyone tries it and like ~ they see it's very very bad but Legolas pretends to like it and forces himself to eat the whole thing just to avoid hurting her feelings (fellowship (ahem Aragorn ahem) teases him for that later cause they ship them sm!!!) and like later maybe reader and Legolas can have the talk or something like "You didn't have to do that I knew I cook terrible..." and I don't exactly know what they can say and how they confess bUT IT CAN as usual INCLUDE ARAGORN CAUSE HE IS LITERALLY THE BEST SHIPPER IN THE WORLD, and with fluff!!! I know this is too much to ask and I'm sorry; also: you don't have to include any suggestions of mine if you don't like them, make it however you want and wish to - you always succeed to make it fluffy and so sweet!!! And THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

Word Count: 983

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Summary: It’s your night to cook for the Fellowship, and while you haven’t had much success with food in the past you think it’ll go well.

Warnings: Pure fluff

****

Shut Up, Aragorn

You ladled stew into the bowl, passing it to the waiting Sam before moving onto the next. The Fellowship had been on the move for several weeks, and it was your first night cooking. You had never been particularly skilled when it came to food, but you thought you’d done a decent job this time. Ladling the last bit into your own bowl, you moved to your spot around the fire, waiting to see everyone’s reactions.

Aragorn was the first to take a bite, and he smiled at you, so you assumed the best. You looked around the circle as everyone else ate, all of them giving you the same sort of grin that Aragorn had.

“It’s delicious, Y/N!”

You missed the looks of confusion everyone else gave Legolas at his words.

You finally took a bite and spat it out in disgust.

“This is awful!”

And then, “What did I do?”

The entire group burst out laughing at your face.

“Stop eating that, it’s disgusting!” You proceeded to dump your bowl out onto the grass next to you, not caring that it was wasteful because you had completely ruined it. Everyone else sheepishly tilted their bowls to show that they were all empty.

“We, uh, kinda already got rid of ours when you weren’t looking,” Boromir admitted.

You laughed again. “Well, I’m terribly sorry to have put you all through that. Sam, could you scrounge something else up?”

The hobbit was nodding, already grabbing some herbs from his pack, but your attention was drawn elsewhere.

“Legolas, why are you still eating that?”

The elf was in fact still shoveling the stew into his mouth.

“I told you! I think it’s great! Y/N is a wonderful cook.”

Your mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

“Huh. Well, I’m gonna go get more water for Sam from the stream.” You stood and grabbed the buckets, humming as you walked down to the water.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group was busy teasing Legolas.

“I knew you liked her, but I didn’t realize you were completely devoted to her!” Boromir nudged the elf, beaming.

Legolas was blushing. “I am not devoted to her, I just felt bad about the stew!”

“Please! I’d only eat that stew if it was the last thing in the world! You’re clearly very much in love with her to do that.”

“Shut up, Aragorn,” was the only response Legolas had to that.

Aragorn shrugged, unconcerned, and stood. “I’m going to go see if Y/N needs any help with those buckets.”

“So, Y/N, I noticed you talking with Legolas earlier.”

“Uh, yeah, he’s one of only nine other people to talk to. So?”

You were ankle-deep in the stream, filling up one of the buckets.

“Well, you seemed to be having a good time with him.”

“Yeah, he’s really nice. He also loves to talk about archery.”

As you put the bucket on the shore, reaching for the second, Aragorn wasn’t sure if you were purposefully being like this.

“And then just now, you were blushing a lot when he complimented your stew!”

You walked out of the water, picking up both buckets and starting to walk, the ranger keeping pace easily.

“Again, so?”

“I’m just saying I think the two of you would be very good together,” he observed.

He noticed you were struggling with the two buckets and grabbed one, careful not to slosh the water out.

He continued, “I mean, with his love of archery and your skill with the sword, you two are perfect for each other!”

You noticed the smirk on his face.

“Shut up, Aragorn.” You sped up, leaving him behind shaking his head at you in mock disappointment.

“C’mon, Y/N. You know I’m right!”

Back at the campsite, you dropped the buckets next to Sam, smiling as he gave you a nod of thanks, before pulling Legolas aside.

“You didn’t have to eat that. I know it was awful.”

“I wanted to, though. And it was actually pretty good!”

You laughed at the earnest look on his face. “C’mon, Legolas. Stop lying. Why did you do it?”

He looked down, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you could love him any more than you already did, but with this, you were just helpless. You didn’t care about getting your heart broken, at this point, so you went for it.

You whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

He blushed again. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Legolas bent down and slanted his head so that his lips met yours. It was gentle, sweet, exactly what you’d expected from the kindhearted elf. Then, he pulled away. Looking into his eyes, you saw something spark but didn’t have time to think about it. His mouth was on yours again, a deeper kiss than before as he backed you up so that you were pressed between him and the tree. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and tangled your hands in his hair, kissing him as enthusiastically as he was you.

A whistle sounded from behind him, and you quickly broke apart, flushed, to see the rest of the Fellowship lined up. Merry and Pippin had their hands over Sam and Frodo’s eyes, and Boromir had his hands over theirs, making for a very amusing picture of blinded hobbits.

Legolas shot Boromir a look.

“What? I’m protecting their innocence,” the man declared, finally removing his hands. Merry and Pippin blinked at the sudden light, even though it was dusk before Pippin smirked at you.

Whatever he was about to say was stopped by Aragorn, who stepped forward, wiping fake tears from his eyes as he slung each arm around your and Legolas’ shoulders.

“Ahhh, my two best friends, together at last. I might cry.”

You each smacked him and then spoke in unison.

“Shut up, Aragorn!”

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

Legolas tag 💕: @sheriffgerard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl

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msotherworldly · 3 years ago

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Characters Arcs

When writing a story, whether it be a novel or an epic film, it’s important to have subplots. While all stories should have, in addition to the main plot, something called a “B Plot,” C plots, D plots, and E plots should play a role too. Smaller plots wouldn’t change the entirety of the plot if removed...but when included, they can enhance the main plot, deepening it, and providing a greater meaning to the overall story.

While it isn’t always the case, the B Plot is often the “romance” of a story. While the hero is trying to defeat the bad guy, he develops a friendship or rivalry with a companion, before ultimately falling in love. Of course, romantic or platonic, the best sub plots explore the characters in relation to one another.

These character arcs - the changes to not only the characters themselves, but the evolution of their connection to others - give readers a reason to root for not only your hero, but the whole cast.

The film which exemplifies this point well is the first Lord of the Rings. While the groundwork for these characters, and their relationships, are laid in the book, I will be focusing on the movie version. When adapting Tolkien’s story, Peter Jackson knew the characters had to be more than names on a page. In order to foster a connection between the audience and each member of the fellowship, bonds were strengthened, or even invented, between the various members.

Merry and Pippin & Boromir

The bond between Merry and Pippin is solid in the books, but little is known about Boromir - beyond knowing he’s Denethor’s son, and a future steward of Gondor who attempts to steal the ring from Frodo, there is little else. In the books, he is a tragic figure and a lesson in how destructive the craving for power can be.

In the films, though, he becomes a friend to Merry and Pippin. He teaches them how to fight, and laughs when the two hobbits doggy pile him. It’s only one scene, but it gives us a relationship. When Boromir is later overwhelmed by orcs, it isn’t as punishment for his actions - instead, he redeems himself. He races to the defense of Merry and Pippin, giving his life for them. His death is that much more tragic because of his connection with the two. When they see him fall, he isn’t just their companion - he’s a good friend, who once laughed with them and ultimately died for them.

Aragorn & Boromir

Boromir also has a connection with Aragorn. The sub plot between the pair, which focuses on Aragorn’s mistrust in Gondor and Boromir’s belief in Gondor, is set up before the Merry and Pippin arc, beginning when Boromir drops the fragments of Isildur’s sword to the ground. His comment that these shards are no more than the remains of a broken sword underscores his lack of faith in Gondor needing a king - a point of tension between him, and the man who could be king if he cared to.

Boromir is an idealist, seeing the best in Gondor and loving it to an almost blind degree. Aragorn, by contrast, seems to care more for the elves than his “own” people. He leads the party towards Lothlorion, home of the elves, but makes a point of avoiding Gondor. He seems to hate Gondor, connecting it with the failure of his ancestor, Isildur; like Aragorn’s antecedent, Gondor is weak. When Aragorn refers to Gondor, he calls it “your city,” to Boromir, rather than theirs.

Following the capture of Merry and Pippin, and the seeming conclusion of their arc, Aragorn swoops in to fight off Boromir’s assailants. Though Aragorn wins, Boromir is fatally wounded. He dies, but not before regarding Aragorn with the respect he would to a king. Aragorn, in turn, seems to have hope for Gondor, promising to do what he can for their people.

This arc enhances Aragorn’s own character arc in accepting not only Gondor, but his role as it’s king. Boromir is a metaphor and embodiment of Gondor, and Aragorn’s feelings towards him are actually the feelings Aragorn has towards Gondor itself. His relationship with Boromir allows him to verbalize his inner conflict about his homeland, and who he is. In the end, he accepts Boromir as his fellow - along with accepting the city as his.

He hasn’t accepted his role as king yet, but Boromir’s relationship with him has set him in the right direction.

Gimli & Legolas

Though the relationship between Gimli and Legolas has little effect on the main plot, it adds both humour and character development to the story. Initially, being a dwarf and an elf, the pair are resentful towards one another. Gimli more or less joins the fellowship to one up Legolas, and the two aren’t above making snide remarks towards one another.

After Gimli’s own experience in Lothlorion, though, when the dwarf realizes that elves can be both kind and beautiful, the dwarf is able to soften towards his companion. Their enmity transitions into a rivalry - they aren’t friends, but they make battles fun by beginning a competition where they try to kill more orcs than the other. As they fight in more battles together, and swap kill numbers at the end of each fight, they develop an actual friendship (in the extended edition of the third film, they even end up drinking together). Their relationship is light hearted, but it adds depth to the story, and makes the audience want to root for the pair.

Both characters are enjoyable on their own, but together they are that much easier to love.

Frodo & Sam

In the books, Sam is Frodo’s gardener and servant. In the movies, he is Frodo’s best friend. While there is still a master and servant relationship between the two, with Sam addressing his friend as “Mr. Frodo,” the term comes to feel more habitual than formal. At the start of the film, the hobbits share drinks. Frodo pushes Sam into his crush, Rosie, and gives Sam assurance when he’s fretting over the competition he has for her affections.

When Sam eavesdrops on the conversation between Frodo and Gandalf, the wizard decides Sam will pay for his listening in by accompanying Frodo to Bree. On their journey, Sam panics at one point when he thinks he’s lost Frodo. He explains that Gandalf made him promise he wouldn’t “lose” Frodo.

Even when he’s no longer obligated to follow, Sam insists on joining the fellowship. Elrond notes there is no separating them, secret meeting or not. Later, towards the end of the story, Sam tries to comfort Frodo, citing his promise to look after his master. When the fellowship splits, Sam chases after Frodo. Frodo can go alone, but Sam is coming with him. He repeats the line that is the crux of his bond: he made a promise to Gandalf not to lose Frodo, and he’s going to keep it.

Sam stays with Frodo to the end, even coming back after being sent away at best (and betrayed at worst) by his master in the final movie. While their bond is implicit, the repeated promise, and the ups and downs their relationship takes, adds another layer to the story. Destroying the ring is challenging - not only because of it’s effect on Frodo’s health, but because of how it tests his friendship with someone who proves to be more loyal than most.

The bond Frodo has with Sam is also integral to the plot. After all, if it weren’t for Sam, Frodo would have been killed. With such a role, Sam needed to be more than a dedicated servant. He needed to be a loyal friend, capable of being tested and still willing to fight for their friendship.

In Conclusion

The set up of these sub plots allows the rest of the movies to be deeper too. While it goes without saying that establishing a connection between Frodo and Sam would improve their shared story arc, other sub plots are revived.

The connection Boromir shares with Merry and Pippin, for example, becomes integral to Pippin’s own arc. With Merry removed from his side, Pippin is then influenced by none other than Boromir, when guilt over his death pushes Pippin to pledge himself to the service of Boromir’s father, Denethor.

Gimli and Legolas go on to have journeys together, and start another body count contest in the third film (where an elephant “still only counts as one” when Legolas dispatches it).

New sub plots are also introduced, such as the bitterness between Faramir and Denethor, but most of the plots are established in the first movie. The relationships between characters make the story matter, and carry it through; the groundwork laid by these bonds even sparks new storylines. Even after his death, Boromir’s relationship with Pippin influences his actions.

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self-indulgency-n-fries · 3 years ago

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General headcannons of the au

a/n: i'm working in the kitchen of the restaurant this year, for the first time, and it's being a bit traumatizing to adapt to it. honestly i mostly feel like shit while working, so i decided that this is going to be my stupid way of coping with it when i'm home. enjoy.

anyway, here's some headcannons to start with:

- Aragorn is the one who orders the food. I don't know why I am so sure of this, but he would be the one coordinating the whole group when it comes to interaction with the waitresses. Even if Gandalf is there with them.

- Legolas is a perfect gentleman with the waitresses, and the same goes with Frodo and Sam. They're always polite, and kind, no matter what of situation occures, in their table. Legolas and Frodo thank the waittesses at least twice whenever they do something. (e.g: a thank you when they come to the table with the food, and a thank you when they leave).

- Sam thanks the waitresses everytime too, but he's most entertained thinking about the food almost in a chef/food critic way. He will always tell the waitress what he thinks of the dosh, and it's always a short but sweet compliment - he always asks to compliment the chef.

- Gimli and the hobbits in general scare the shit out of the staff with how much they eat, but especially Merry and Pippin. They are the living hell of the kitchen and the staff washing the dishes.

- Actually the whole group ends up being problematic because: Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas eat the normal amount of food for a person, but the elf usually asks for a vegetarian dish that has to be made at the time; Gimli, Frodo and Sam eat for two people each, (though, upon noticing how tiresome it is for the staff tge two hobbits start ordering less food for them) and the dwarf usually prefers the rare meat; then there's Merry and Pippin who eat for about 3 people each, and are either blind enough not to understand how it weights down the restaurant or too hungry to feel guilt in their innocence; then there's Gandalf who somehow is satisfied with like... a soup? It always ends up with a gigantic and stupidly diversed order that takes ages to make and makes other clients wait longer to be served.

- Merry and Pippin are like children in two specific ways, they are a bit too loud and enthusiastic sometimes, and they order the same food as children usually do ("and a plate of fries, please!!").

- Gimli is always safisfied, and will always compliment both chef and waitresses for the food and the service, always wifh some kind of story that the waitresses usually don't have time for, but he is lovable and appreciated everytime anyway, because of his kindness.

- Gimli always laughs at jokes that Boromir makes that tend to scare the shit out of some of the staff (*coughs* me.). Boromir is borderline annoying with it, and Aragorn usually ends up apologizing for him, but he is nevertheless nice to the waitresses, and always gives the staff a new story to laugh at each other.

- Gandalf is so nice to the waitresses, speaking politely and kindly, though, after he eats his soup he octen spends quite some time smoking his pipe. Aragorn joins him for a few minutes sometimes.

- Aragorn is to this day the salvation of the waitresses because of how helpful he is. Precisely because he controls the dynammic of everything, whenever they need to ask anything, the waitresses can just go directly to him. He is the parent of the group.

- Once he becomes more acquaintance with the staff, he tends to ask about the easiest/most convinent hours for tbrm to come and always books for that time, because he is aware of how complicated the group is - he comes to a point of apologising for everything that Merry and Pippin order, everytime.

- Merry and Pippin even get to go with the waitress to the see new deserts, and the kitchen staff find hilarious how they eat like 3 grown men and still look like children.

- Sam goes with them and is amazed. He also gets to know the staff that makes the food he adores and gives them all the positive feedback. He eventually makes a habit lf saying hi to the chef after his meal, sometimes accompanied by the other hobbits.

- Aragorn is always the one who pays, but Gandalf is usually the one to leave the tip - always a good amount.

- Frodo always eats the same desert: biscuit cake. All the times he went to the restaurant that was what hr would have.

- Gimli tends to go for the restaurant's exclusive dessert. He and Sam are trying to guess what is the recipe and ingridients that even most staff doesn't know. Gimli tries to make them tell him what it is but he is never successful.

- Every single waitress loves Frodo. He is baby.

- And every single staff person finds Legolas attractive. Some of the people in the kitchen are always trying to sneak their way to the room where he is just to take a look at him. It always makes him confused and Boromir teases the shit out of him but nevertheless he smiles at them.

- Whenever something breaks, or falls, or is mistaken, or whatever happens Boromir is the first one to reassure the waitress that it's alright, and not to get anxious :).

this is will be edited, and there's probaly more to come, but flr now it's 2 am and I need to sleep.

#lord of the rings #lord of the rings au #lotr #lotr au #lotr headcanons

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years ago

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Under the Stars - Legolas

While traversing Middle Earth, on a quest to deliver the One Ring to Mount Doom, you and the Fellowship try to move stealthily. Some are better at sneaking around than others. For instance, you seem to struggle in masking your feelings for a certain Elf. The rest of the Fellowship can so easily see the affection you hold for Legolas while you believe you’re being quite slick. Turns out, you’re the only one that was fooled.

AN: This is purely a selfish writing endeavor. I’ve been stressed and watching the LOTR and Hobbit movies to relax...I forgot how much I love Elves��.Human!Reader X Legolas...

“I’m sick of smelling of grass and grime!” Merry announced. As he spoke, he dropped his cloak on a patch of nearby dirt beside the fire Boromir had begun to build. Silently, you hoped for Aragorn and Legolas to return with supper soon. Once the Hobbits’ stomachs were full, they would quiet.

Legolas had described them as ‘children’ to you one evening: once fed, quick to bed. It had been one of those first nights, back when you were too nervous, too giddy, to sleep. You would stay up with Legolas as he took watch. Despite what Gimli had told you about Elves, you found Legolas to be good company during those restless nights, a great comfort even. He would tell you stories from the centuries he had lived through and you would listen, hang off every word. When you finally did fall asleep, rare as it was those first days, it was because you felt safe with Legolas by your side.

If you dwelled too long on the memory, your face would warm with longing. How simple it had been before your heart began to complicate matters. Luckily, the Hobbits, hungry and noisy as ever, pulled you from your thoughts.

“We’re all sick,” Sam sighed as he took a seat next to haggard Frodo. “But we’ll be back at the Shire soon. Drinking and eating Rosie’s lovely supper roast.”

Boromir scoffed and shook his head at the Hobbit’s squabbling. “We have many more weeks of travel yet. Do not kid yourselves.”

Pippin frowned and plopped down beside a freshly disappointed Merry. This was the first time any of them had been away from the Shire, from their home; especially for so long. Due to that new homesickness, Boromir’s true words hit hard for the Hobbits. You gave them a sad smile before looking to Boromir. You bumped your shoulder against his to get his attention.

“Take it easy on them,” you said softly. “They’re not like us, not ready to leave home to save it at a moments notice.”

“They’re not fighters, you mean,” he countered as he struck the flint and steel. Sparks shot out from the metal and stone. After another strike, small flames began to burn. With a sigh, Boromir set his tools aside and sat back.

“You could change that, you know.” Boromir stole a glance at you, an eyebrow raised at your words. “You could teach them to fight, to defend. It would make things easier.”

“Easier?”

There was an edge to the man’s voice that caught you off guard. It was the same tone his father had used with you and Faramir when the pair of you tried to get Boromir to ditch his ‘steward prince’ duties as children. You cringed that familiar cruelty. Boromir was annoyed and you, already tired from the days travels, were not equipped to handle his irritability. You started to stand, brushing the dirt off of your trousers.

“Easier?!”

“It was just a suggestion, Boromir,” you explained, already starting to turn your back to the man. As you started to take steps into the forest, to find Aragorn and Legolas, Boromir let out a hearty laugh.

“It would be easier if you did not fawn over our dear Elf companion as well, but you seem to be falling just the same.”

You stopped dead in your tracks and felt your skin, every inch of it, warm with embarrassment. Slowly, you turned to meet Boromir’s bright eyes and knowing smirk. His expression resembled his younger self, the boy that affectionately tease you as you trained with Faramir. Growing up in Gondor with Boromir had toughened your hide to his ribbing; but this struck a chord. This was not the good-natured jokes you were used to.

Despite the truth in his teasing, Boromir’s tone was changed, twisted into something kissed by darkness.

“I know nothing of which you speak,” you replied through slightly gritted teeth. You had gone so long without anyone seemingly noting your admiration of Legolas that you were clambering for a defense.

“Oh deary me,” Gimli, groaned. You looked over at the Dwarf and saw his saddened eyes. Behind him, the Hobbits watched, wide-eyed, as you seemed to seethe.

“Everyone here sees it,” Boromir continued, “except for possibly the Elf and yourself. Blind to your own feelings and you talk of making things easier.”

Your heart leapt in your chest. For a moment, your thoughts are clouded by Legolas.

His blonde hair, flicking with the wind as you walked towards destiny, towards Mount Doom. Those first nights spent chatting about adventure. His eyes, soft as he explained to you the significance of his braids and recounted the sternness of his kingly father. For the past few days, when he wasn’t scouting ahead, he was walking by your side, letting his hand brush ever-so slightly. In those moments, you tried your hardest to keep calm, stay steady while Legolas seemed wholly unfazed by the incidental touches.

If anything it was the Elven prince who was blind, oblivious to how his mere presence was driving you mad with want. No, Boromir was wrong. You were not blind to your feelings, you were just ignoring them. Or, at least, trying to ignore them. After all, how could an Elf like Legolas, beautiful and immortal, want you?

“You are mistaken, Boromir,” you snap coldly. “I have no...inclination towards the Elf. Perhaps it is you, who is blind.”

Boromir shook his head and sighed. “You are grasping at thin air, Y/N. Even from the low spots at which they stand, the Hobbits can see your fonding eyes towards the archer.”

“Hey!” Merry stood in a flash, “we see lots of things.”

“So you agree with him?” You asked, turning to the four halflings perched beside the fire. Frodo was stunned in silence, as was Sam who had even stopped nibbling at his lembas. You imagined such human drama rarely reared its head in the Shire. Merry and Pippin, however, used to causing chaos, nodded.

“I mean, it’s the truth. Is it not?” Pippin asked, a hopeful half-smile on his lips. Despite his kind expression, you felt a bolt of hot anger in your heart.

“Not!”

“Aye, the man is right,” Gimli stood before you. Stout and strong, he looked up at you with true Dwarven candor. “Everybody sees how you look at ‘im. I don’t begin to understand it, the pointy ears and all, but-”

“Neither do I.”

The words left your lips edged with a saddening truth you were not expecting. You didn’t understand how you could fall for someone so hard, so swiftly. Let alone someone who was an Elf, an entire world away from yours. The thought brought stinging tears to your eyes. To hide them, you turned your back to the camp and started to walk into the surrounding forest.

As you left, you heard Frodo finally speak up.

“It feels that we have just begun and we are already crumbling.”

For a moment, you’re tempted to stay. Whatever feelings you had for Legolas, they were not worth tarnishing the Fellowship. But the thought of facing Boromir, the others, after they so plainly set your heart’s affection on display made you feel ill. So, you kept walking.

You walked until you found a clearing lined with grand, old trees. They towered but their branches did not dare to obscure the stars that shone down. Moonlight gleamed along the green blades of grass in the center of the clearing. The glow was soft, inviting, and you felt drawn to it.

When you moved to stand in the light, you found yourself looking up. Away from the fire light and pyres of Minas Tirith, the stars shone with abandon. Never before had you seen anything as breathtaking. Though, that wasn’t quite true.

You had seen Legolas in the heat of battle: graceful and deadly, slinging arrows with startling accuracy. From the first moment you saw him at the Council of Elrond, you knew there was a fire beneath his skin and you felt honored to see it burn in battle. You had seen his gentleness too as he studied particular flowers along the trail. As you walked with the Fellowship, you would steal sneaky glances at the Elf when he wasn’t at your side.

Apparently, your awe and stolen looks had not gone unnoticed. You winced as you thought back to the camp, to Boromir’s borderline cruelty. He had seemed different ever since you left Rivendell, ever since he learned of the Ring. Could a little band of gold, a promise of power, change a man so quickly?

You pushed the thought from your mind and tried to focus solely on the stars. In the silence, there was a brief peace. Worries slipped away, melted under the light of the Moon. The next day would come and bring fear with it. For this moment, you closed your eyes to better savor the quiet and its strange joy.

“Stars never seem to shine as brightly outside Mirkwood.”

Your eyes opened wide at the sound of Legolas’ voice. When you craned your neck and saw the Elf standing at the edge of the tree line, your breath caught. In the starlight, he looked all the more fair and handsome. His eyes, darker in the limited light, met yours and he dipped his head.

“I did not mean to frighten you,” he raised his open palms and approached you.

“No, you didn’t, I...I wasn’t expecting you.” You tore your attention away from him and looked back to the sky. It took all you had to keep your breathing steady as Legolas moved to stand at your side. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his strong shoulders, his chest, so close. Why must he stand so near?

“You were expecting someone else then?”

“I-I,” you looked back to him and saw that he was looking at the stars. Though your floundering reaction to his question did not go unnoticed. The slightest of smiles played on his pale lips. “No. No one.”

You moved your eyes back to the stars in the hopes of recovering some of your dignity. A sudden fear flooded your senses. Had he returned to camp with Aragorn? What had the others told him? You thought back to Boromir’s attitude and tensed. Before you could ask after anything, Legolas spoke up.

“Tonight, they remind me of home.”

You swallow hard before you dared to look his way. “What do you mean?”

“The stars,” he whispered, turning his gaze to yours. There was a gentleness in his features that made your chest warm. “And the company.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. “I fear I don’t understand.”

“You remind me home,” Legolas replied smoothly. You let out a forced laughed and frowned at him. Elves, by nature, were poetic but did Legolas did not see how his words could have a double meaning? He must see the pain on your face, the desperate hope his words gave you. Everyone else did, apparently.

“How could a human remind an Elf of his woodland home?”

“You are beautiful.” Legolas didn’t miss a beat with his reply.

“Legolas.” When his name fell from your lips, it was heavy and full of warning. Yet, the Elf seemed to care less as he turned his eyes back towards the sky. Silently, you cursed yourself for thinking he meant anything by the compliment.

“When I was younger, my father would bring me to the canopy to study the constellations. He would tell me the stories that accompanied them.”

Frown still firmly planted in your expression, you commented, “that doesn’t sound like the grim man you described to me.”

“He could be bitter, but beneath the asperity there was always love.”

His words stirred up for you an image of Boromir. While you heart still stung from his teasing, you could not forget the childhood you shared with him. The boy you once played with, trained with, alongside his younger brother, was still there. Buried beneath the hardened, stubborn man, but he was there all the same. There was hope for him yet.

“Love endures,” you added softly. The chilled night air gave your breath the form of a small cloud. Instinctively, you pulled at your cloak and fastened it a bit tighter around your shoulders.

“It endures all of Time and wild weather,” Legolas agreed. His eyes found yours once more and, with a look of concern, he leaned close to you. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m not, I…”

You trailed off, unable to think clearly with Legolas so near and looking at you like that. His eyes were kind, framed by the long, fine strands of his blond hair. With his dark brows furrowed together with worry, he looked older despite the Elven gift of eternal youth. How tempted you were to reach out and pull his lips to yours. Your fingers twitched and itched to do so, but you forced your hands to stay still. Bitterly, you imagined that those in the Fellowship would smirk at you if they could see how you were acting.

“Y/N, you sh-”

“Did they tell you?”

Legolas cocked his head to the side like a confused hound. “Tell me what?”

“The Fellowship did they...I am tired of being played for a fool,” you pressed. “I have been parading about as if I have masked my every feeling yet I could be read as plainly as any tome. I refuse to believe you, with your Elven sight, could not see what mere men and Hobbits have.”

At you plea, Legolas’ straightened his posture. While he leaned towards you no longer, his eyes remained soft and as watchful as they ever were. You took in his furrowed brows and slight frown before pressing a hand to your forehead with shame. In an attempt to calm yourself, you hung your heavy head and took a deep breath.

“I, I am sorry, Legolas. I think it’s time I had some rest.”

With your hand hiding a portion of your downturned face, you did not see him move closer to you until you saw the toes of his boots before your own. Still embarrassed because of your outburst, you did not dare to move. Only when you felt slender, warm fingers wrap around your wrist did you allow your hand to fall away. When you lifted your head, you were met with Legolas’ eyes focused solely on you.

“Do not apologize, you are right. They did not tell me; they do not need to. I have seen the feelings of which you speak and I am sorry that I have been so quiet.”

A breath was hard for you to find, but when you did you used it to ask the question balanced on the tip of your tongue. “What do you mean?”

“I mean to say there are many differences between your world and mine. I should have made my feelings more clear.”

Legolas’ grip on your wrist loosened slightly and you thought he was going to let go. Your stomach dropped with the dread of an affection gone unrequited. Then, just as you felt true doom, Legolas joined his hand with yours. Your gaze fell to watch how his fingers entangled with yours. Nervous, you looked back to Legolas and found there was a tender smile playing on his lips.

“At night I do not sleep but with these long evenings, with you slumbering so near, I have wished to. I have lived through many centuries and never once wanted to sleep. Never once did I see a beauty and longed to hold it dear until I met you.”

“Legolas,” you whispered, breathlessly, “I now truly feel like a fool.”

He lifted his free hand, the one not holding yours, to your face. Light as feathers, Legolas’ fingertips traced along your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine that you did not even try to hide. There was no point now. Everything was clear for everyone to see. You did not want to hide from Legolas any longer.

“Perhaps we are both fools,” he said softly. This close to Legolas, even in the dim light of the stars, you could see the depth of blue in his eyes. The itch in your fingers returned as the smell of him flooded your senses: beech bark and pine. Before you could even think of holding back, your hand reached up and pulled his lips to yours.

Legolas was quick to respond. Both his hands moved to cup the sides of your face and he moved his lips eagerly along yours. Your hands gripped his armor, holding him close. Every feeling you had held in poured out into the kiss. Each stolen glance and longing stare finally coming to a head. Still clinging to him desperately, you pulled away from Legolas to catch your breath.

Slightly winded, you rested your forehead against his, sharing the air between you. Relieved of your worries, you felt a surge of bravery overtake you. Laughing lightly, you pulled away to meet Legolas’ gaze.

“I wonder if the Fellowship saw that coming.”

Legolas smiled at your joking, the widest smile you had seen from the Elf since meeting him. With his hands still holding your face, he brought you in for another kiss; less needy than the last but all the more passionate. Warmth surrounded you both but you hungered for more. Just as you were about to pull on Legolas’ armor, you heard someone clear their throat.

Immediately, you and Legolas pulled away from each other. You both looked over to see Aragorn, smiling smugly at the two of you as he walked out from the shadows created by the looming trees. A new sort of embarrassment rushed through you as the Ranger took in the sight of you and the Elf. You could only imagine what you both looked like with lips kiss swollen, chests heaving, and all wild eyed.

“I can not speak for the rest, but I saw this coming.”

You snuck a glance at Legolas and saw his pale cheeks had pinkened. Never before had you seem him flustered and you felt overwhelmed with pride that you had played a part in it. The starlight made the Elf’s features all the more pleasing. You wanted to kiss him again but, before you could reach for Legolas, Aragorn spoke up again.

“Come now, you’ve worried the party with your extended absence. And the Hobbit’s have supper ready.” As he turned to walk back, he added, “there will be time for that when our journey comes to an end.”

You and Legolas start after the promised king. Not before sharing a look that told the other that neither of you would be willing to wait that long. For so long you had both waited, danced in silence around the other. Now, there was no holding back.

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