#i would like to see someone write a legolas or aragorn x reader where the reader has the ring and he has to watch the reader slowly

[miseries-mistress]

im surprised i haven't seen any lotr fanfiction where the reader has the ring instead of frodo. like don't you guys want to be at the center of attention???

[shirefantasies]

hii! love your writings, I was wondering if you could do a reader x fellowship (plus eowyn and arwen) where reader is usually seen in armor and unkempt garments + dirty hair but then one day they show up (probably for an event) in beautiful fancy clothes, hair did and everything? Thanks!!!!

scREAMS I LOVE THIS YES. Warning: minor blood mention in two

LoTR Characters Seeing You Dressed Up For the First Time

Aragorn

Both of you had only borne witness to the other in times of battle and survival, not exactly the most formal of circumstances, but such had never even occurred to you until the night of celebration in Rohan. King Theoden invited you to the company of his family, offering his niece or nephew to take you to a bathhouse and present you with a new outfit. Aragorn turned your way the moment you stepped out, eyes positively glowing with reverent awe focused entirely on your form, your smile as your gazes met. He said nothing, simply drew closer until you could feel his warmth upon you. "The people of Rohan have been good to us," he said. "Yes," you agreed with a nod, "I wish we can give as much back. But perhaps we should start by enjoying their hospitality, hm?” “Indeed. Let us keep this night for ourselves. I fear if I stray too far, though, I may get lost in you.” “Don’t worry,” you whispered, lips quirking upward as you pulled Aragorn into the fray of dancers, “I’ll be here to pull you back, too.”

Legolas

Legolas managed to seem dressed up in nearly anything he wore, a feat you certainly envied! Your travels left you feeling like a drowned rat half the time or else just dirty and bedraggled. When the elves of Lothlórien offered you housing, bathing, even food and dancing for two nights, no had fled your vocabulary entirely. Taking their hands, you were swept off into a river of luxury, emerging clean and smiling and draped in the finest fabrics. An elf on either side, you made your way down to the lower flet upon which your hospitality lie, the way Legolas turned his head not once but twice unable to escape your notice. "What?" You teased, aware at least of his shock to see you clad so differently. "You didn't know what I looked like beneath my helmet?" "I didn't know you looked so nice beneath it," He conceded with a smile, stepping closer, "Perhaps we ought not to return it after this night."

Boromir

Had someone asked him, Boromir would never have said he wanted someone with blood under their nails and sword in hand. That was him, that was his job. And yet he felt something different when he clapped a hand to your shoulder after you saved him in combat. When you emerged at the party dressed up, though? His heart swelled five sizes. He should have known- you could do anything. “Putting everyone to shame here, aren’t we?” “What do you mean?” You asked, gaze flitting deliciously down to the hand Boromir laud upon your shoulder, all but challenging him. Accepting it, he rested the other on your hip, urging you out into a dance. “Looking better than them in both mail and finery.” “I suppose I’m just lucky.” “No, I am,” Boromir shot back, “For I am the one who gets to have you in my arms.”

Gimli

To use Gimli's words, around each other you two tend to remain "fully armed and filthy". It is Lord Elrond, of course, who offers an alternative state upon your entry to his homely-house, granting you the reprieve of your first bath in far too many days and even a new outfit. Elvish craftsmanship was like nothing else, delicately embroidered and soft and light unlike anything that has ever graced your skin. Reactions were something you hadn’t considered in the slightest, but as soon as you emerged you found yourself giggling at Gimli’s parted lips and removal of his helmet as if in some reverence you had not earned. “Now this,” he nodded with a smile of approval as he swept an arm over your entire form, “This is the one thing the elves have gotten right.”

Frodo

The tailors’ shop was busy this morning. Bilbo needed a new set of threads to replace some tugged-off buttons, but every working hobbit was rushing around before Frodo could even ask if they had a spool of forest green to spare. What were they- “Frodo!” He would recognize that voice anywhere. Turning, he caught sight of you in the middle of a fitting, the tailors having been flitting about your form as they worked on quite a fine outfit for you. “What do you think?” Spinning around and then striking a joking pose, you fixed him right in the eyes, and it was like an arrow struck him, taking the very breath from his lungs. Finally Frodo’s sense and words returned to him, bringing a smile to his lips. “It’s perfect.”

Sam

You had worked with Sam plenty of times in the gardens, so he had seen you countless times in things like overalls or pinafores or aprons and thought you looked fit for any king and castle. But then came Fatty Bolger’s birthday party, a bash all his friends were invited to…and plenty of other hobbits would find themselves at anyway. One such was you, and knowing you’d be dancing you got cleaned up quite nice, standing at the edges of the lantern-hung floor hoping you might be noticed. And noticed you were, for you caught Samwise Gamgee as he controlled his gaping expression and shook his head out before he approached you, asking if you’d honor him with a dance.

Merry

Gimli was teasing you as Merry entered the room, feeling his heart shoot into his throat at a mere glimpse. He caught a few spare words from the dwarf, including him asking you if you had someone you’d like to impress. “Hush,” you chastised him, “What if he hears you?” At that, Merry couldn’t resist stepping forward. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress,” he told you, eyes full of wonder, “But he’s an absolute fool if it doesn’t work.” “You really think so?” Your tone, your hopeful look, those beautiful eyes Merry could drown in. “I know so.” “Well,” you glanced away, “That’s good. Very good, since it was you.”

Pippin

Tired and bedraggled, you all but fell into the arms of the elves of Lothlórien, blissfully bathing and shyly accepting the fine garb they offered you. Tugging it into place, you emerged through the doorway, unaware the rest of your fellowship waited beyond the threshold. Soon as his eyes fell upon you, Pippin's jaw dropped, his lips slowly curling upward into a wide smile that had you mirroring it, gaze dropping from his. “Wow," Pippin breathed as you drew closer still, hands hovering in front of him in the space between your bodies, "You- you look- Wow. They’ve certainly given you a fine…wow.”

Faramir

On the battlefield you had fought side by side, faces obscured by steel and focus. Soldiers from two armies melded as one. Yet here you were simply citizens, representatives of your people. Diplomats even on the dance floor. All thoughts of such relations fled from Faramir’s mind, though, as your form filled his vision. “Never did I think I would be granted such a moment as this,” he confessed as you took his hand and gripped about his neck, body swaying against his.

Eomer

Theoden, Rohan's king, was giving a celebration all were to attend. Something of a victory revel, but you must confess that you just looked forward to the dancing. Stuffy as it may have been, it was also quite fun donning a nice outfit, your reflection beaming back at you. The expression carried on all the way into the great hall, shining into the hanging lights. You caught sight of a head turning the moment you emerged. A golden head. Eomer. With a wave, he dismissed the man he spoke to- a fellow soldier, you presumed- and strode before you. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" "To the same thing everyone else does, I suppose," you teased in response, "This revel." "Well, remind me to thank my uncle later," Eomer replied with a wide smile, extending a hand in a clear invitation to dance as his eyes traveled up and down over your form, "Shall we?"

Eowyn

She had worn a smile of surprise when you even removed your helmet for the first time in her presence, let alone donning your finest. When it came time for a celebration with her people, a far different garb hung from your body, all in gorgeous fabrics and colors perfectly complimenting your own hues. As soon as you stepped into the light of Rohan's hall, Eowyn positively grinned, her eyes of soft blue alight. Taking up a cup from the table by which she stood, she crossed over to stand before you and offer you a drink, which you accepted. "The garb of Rohan suits you perfectly," she complimented, "Do you plan on dancing?" It was worth seeing the progression of shock and speechlessness melting back into a grin when you extended a hand and replied, "If you will have me."

Haldir

Working side by side meant seeing each other in some of the worst moments, sleeves slashed and blood seeping from wounds. Armor caked with dirt and quivering devoid of arrows. Body carried to healers with reddening bandages hastily tied around limbs. And yet this, this is what shocks him. Haldir’s breath is utterly stolen, not of concern or fear this time, but in the manner of one first seeing the falling stars. “Stay still,” he breathes, almost pleading, “Let me take you in for a moment.”

Galadriel

You were a warrior by profession. In a way, at least. One such that mail was your garb far more often than any dress or robe. Thus, when you made to visit the elves of Lothlórien, you were shocked to see the fine things they'd lain out for you, pulled gently onto your body as if you deserved servants. In fact you had tried to protest, but they had simply smiled and shook their heads as fine jewels were hung about your neck. That you had earned an audience with the Lady Galadriel, was a testament to your service you would not soon take for granted. Thus, as you stood before them, you made first to lower yourself in reverence. Before you could fully adopt your posture, though, you felt the grip of a soft hand beneath your chin gently pulling you back up. Soon you were raised to meet Galadriel's eyes. "You need not bow to me. I confess I wished very much to see you like this. Come with me, if you please."

Elrond

Some might say the Lord of Rivendell should not look upon a soldier such as he did. Some of those same voices might have spoken up of the love of man and elf that had brought forth his ancestors. Not that he would not have understood. Yet as it was every time you removed your helmet something stirred in Elrond that had not done so for some years. And then one night came the celebration, a festival to which all in his counsel were invited, you included. It was that very night, in fact, that he realized how little he had seen of you outside the patrols you took together, and the same in which he would confess to you how he felt beneath the moonlight, finally spilling forth every word of your beauty you deserved.

Arwen

Had you asked her, she would have thought not at all of your dress. Your heart was what she loved, the way you cared and the way you smiled whenever you looked upon someone dear to you. Yet the day of her birthday, you draped yourself in your very finest, emerging in the view of an Arwen who could not bear tearing her eyes off of you. Grinning her beautiful grin, the elf took your hand and immediately twirled you, viewing you from every angle with her expression never faltering. “You look amazing,” she told you, "For a moment, I thought I was dreaming."

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[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Training- Legolas x Hobbit!Reader

Summary: Legolas comes to help reader with sword training and some heated confessions are made.

Word count: 1, 662

A/N: I requested this story to @intoxicated-chan a while ago because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever write it but now I have, so if you like my version then definitely read theirs here

The forest clearing was still as you snuck away from the group to practise. While Boromir was training Merry and Pippin, he had joked that you don’t need training, as you were vicious enough with your knife.

You wanted to be brave and tough, to do your part in the fellowship, but living in the Shire you had not had much experience with fighting. A little dagger you had once bought and sometimes kept on you being the only weapon at your disposal felt a little pathetic.

Aragorn had seen your disdain at the comment and had handed you one of his smaller swords and told you of this clearing.

“Take this, there’s a little clearing just past those woods. Remember your stance and fluid movement. Be back before the sun is low and come back if there’s trouble.” He had quietly encouraged you with a fatherly smile and a nod of his head.

Now you stood in the field, trying to remember what you had briefly seen Boromir teach your friends, as you heard someone approach from behind. Swinging your borrowed sword viciously, but gracelessly, you saw it was only Legolas.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing your training, shield maiden of the Shire. I only worry that one so lovely and vicious might just be taken from me.” Legolas jokingly smirked down at you.

Since the beginning of this journey, Legolas had often liked to joke and compliment you. If he had been a fellow hobbit you might believe he was flirting, but he was an elf prince and you couldn’t believe such things, even if you did want them to be true.

Though he was not handsome in the way male hobbits are, he had a different kind of beauty. Where male hobbits beauty comes from their actions and the way they can make you laugh, Legolas’ simple came from who he was. Legolas is beautiful like how a flower is, it needn’t do anything but sway and bloom and the beauty is there.

You couldn’t stare at him for long, and you tried not to show how his words affected you. Being a hobbit on this journey you already had to prove yourself enough, but being a woman made it even more difficult. Your brother, Samwise, could get by because he was kind and had a confidence in his own right, but you felt you had to try hard to be taken seriously.

“I’m only trying to earn my place among you all, there is no need to make fun.” You stood up for yourself, trying to sound more brave and strong, and less like a whining child.

It seems your attempts at strength worked as Legolas was taken aback.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. I had only come to see if I could aid you with your training. I do not jest when I say that you have a warrior spirit, it could just do with some refining is all.” Legolas gently explained with a sweet and kind smile.

“What would an elf know of swordsmanship? I thought your kind were archers.” You asked him, still on the defence.

Legolas smirked down at you as he began to step closer, now barely an arms length from you.

“My people have many skills, little warrior,” he began to explain as he was now crouching before you, “don’t forget I am not as young as I seem and as a prince I have had more training then just archery.” He teases back as he flicks your nose cutely.

“Well what kind of refining do I need, Mr. Fancy Elvish Prince.” You tease back, taking a bit of his braid from behind his ear and flicking it, as he had flicked your nose.

His lovely face shone as he sweetly laughed at your returned gesture.

“Well how about we start with stance, little warrior.” He smiled warmly at you as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingers ever so slightly on your cheek.

Feeling his finger lightly brush your cheek had your eyes fluttering, but luckily you were quick to recover as you turned to show your stance.

Remembering what you had heard from Boromirs training, and seen in the fights you had encountered thus far, you held your stance as best you could.

“Not bad, but just remember,” suddenly you felt Legolas’ delicate but strong fingers on your waist, “your hips need to be facing towards your enemy.” You hotly whisper in your ear, making you shudder with need.

Though he had adjusted your stance, his hands did not leave your body, in fact he adjusted his position to hold you closer. He was now knelt on one knee as his other leg was bent beside you, and his front was pushed more into your back as his hands slid down to your hip.

Your sword was becoming heavy, but even as you dropped it, he didn’t seem to mind, in fact it just made his touches more eager and bold.

Now holding your hips, he pushed you back into himself and you could feel how excited this was making him, as his hardness pushed against your back.

“You are so beautiful, y/n, I just can’t help but need to touch you. Please tell me if this makes you uncomfortable.” He gently whispered in your ear.

Even as you could feel his need pulsing through him, he was still so gentle and sweet.

Turning your body in his grip slightly to face him, your small hands run against his cheek and into his soft hair.

“Don’t stop, Legolas.” You softly spoke as you hold onto his hair, pushing him closer to you.

At hearing your approval, he can’t help but let out a growl as he pushes you into the soft grass below with a passionate kiss. Your grip on his hair tightens as he lowers your body and his hovers above your.

With one hand beside your head to keep his body from pressing too hard against yours, his other gently runs up and down your form. His sweet touch beginning at your neck, down your breast, your waist, your hip, your legs and back again.

His touch on your body was delicate and sweet but his kiss was another but. His kisses were dominant and desperate as his mouth devoured yours. As he deepened the kiss and his tongue slipped into your mouth, you tugged on his hair even tighter, a muffled moan being heard from both of you.

His lips broke from yours and his grip tightened against your thigh as his head pulled back with a moan. Looking down on you, his gaze was animalistic and you could see how the kiss was affecting him from the tent in his trousers.

Growling once again, he bent down as he pressed open mouthed kisses across your neck and chest, making sweet moans and whimpers pass through your parted lips.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you, little one. I try to be good and respectful of one so sweet but you make my body become obsessed.” He confesses as he kisses along your chest.

Raising his head, there is a serious look in his eye as he gazes at you.

“I can not stand to have another near you. When Boromir carried you the other day, I felt a jealousy I had never felt before. I want you to be mine and me be yours.” He continued his confession, his touch now much more gentle as he sweetly caressed your face.

Hearing this makes you realise that all his comments and jokes truly were flirting, and that you weren’t just imagining it. While you want to live in and embrace this moment, you can’t help but feel a self consciousness creep through your mind.

Your hand once in his hair now comes down to play with the ties of your shirt as you begin to worry.

“Legolas, you’re an elvish prince and I’m just a hobbit from the Shire. I would love nothing more than to be with you, but it’s not right.” You explain as you begin to feel tears fill your eyes.

Your tears do not have a chance to drop however, as Legolas wipes them away and lifts your head. Looking up into his eyes, you see nothing but love and compassion.

“I am not bound by anything that means I can not care for you. I am my own being and if my heart has chosen you and if you will have me, then it is you I want,” gently he lifts you to sit in his lap as he continues to explain, “you have captured my heart in a way I can not explain and I want you in every way there is to want another. Please do not push me away because of our differences.” He sweetly reassures you, his lips coming to gently press against yours.

When he pulls back from the gentle kiss, his head is still pressed against yours.

“If you promise to kiss and touch me like that again, I am yours.” You cheekily assure him.

A light chuckle leaves his lips as his smile grows.

“Oh believe me, little warrior, I intend to do much more than just kiss and touch you like that.” He assures as he stares hungrily at you.

“And though I wish to take you right on this forest floor without a care in the world, I think we unfortunately need to head back.”

Looking away from his gorgeous eyes, you realise how low the sun was truly getting. Before you could think to stand, Legolas is lifting you in his arms, causing a small gasp to leave your lips.

“I’ll put you back down as we get closer to camp, but I just need to hold you a bit longer.” Legolas tells you, with a sweet kiss to your temple.

[draculasfavoritewife]

Meleth Nín (My Love)

Summary: The very future of Middle Earth may hang in the balance, but a quiet night allows thoughts to stray toward questions of a more personal nature.

Pairing: Legolas Thranduilion x elf!Reader/OC

Warnings: Pining, female language used for reader.

I wrote this a couple summers ago during my brief but intense LOTR phase. "Enelya" is the Elvish name I got from a name generator as a kid so I used it here 😁. Apologies for the length, I got massively carried away. This IS supposed to be x reader, I just wrote it before I was comfortable writing in 2nd person.

(Translations of Elvish phrases at the end)

It is my turn for first watch tonight, an assignment that I do not mind even during normal times, and that I am almost bittersweetly grateful for on this night. I have much on my mind that needs settling, and somehow, I do not think that listening to the grating snores of the sons of Gloin and Denethor would give me more peace than the crisp night air. 

The surrounding woods are still, nothing moving about in the underbrush that shouldn’t be, and I allow my guard a chance at rest, turning my attention to the stars instead of the trees. Crouched where I am on a wide branch, I have a perfect window through to the deep ebony expanse of the sky, and a strange blend of homesickness and excitement blazes briefly through my chest. The stars are strange here, arranged differently than they are back in the Greenwood, yet a few familiar individuals still flicker amongst foreign constellations. 

It reminds me of the first time Legolas coaxed me into climbing his favorite tree back home so I could see the stars. I will never forget the wonder I felt as he pulled me through the last layer of obscuring leaves and the sky unfolded before me, rolling on forever. I’d seen the stars many times in Imladris, but they were different there, blessed with a sense of safety and serenity that everything beneath the watchful eyes of Elrond felt. 

With Thranduilion, high in the crown of the wood, balanced on the very threshold of the sky, with nothing anchoring me except his steady hand holding mine, it suddenly seemed I could reach out and touch the Valar themselves. I remember laughing, simply because no other reaction could express what I felt. Thranduilion laughed beside me; it was late, we were the only two still out after a hunt, and I still am not entirely sure why he took me up there. 

Whatever the reason, that instance changed many things for me. It sparked in me something older and fiercer than I knew, some desire for more than what I had there in the Greenwood, much as I loved it. Some yearning which prompted me to accompany my Prince along on this solemn venture, wherever it leads. 

I’ve tried not to admit it, but that night started changing the way I saw him as well. 

Someone approaches, passage no more than a whisper, only slightly less silent than one of my own people, and there is only one it could be. No guard is needed around one I’ve known since we were both children. 

“Estel.” 

“Mae govannen, Enelya.” He leans against my branch, supported on crossed arms. The others call him Strider, or Aragorn, but to me he will always be my Estel, the companion I spent a couple of decades with after my childhood, before my mother’s people sent for me to return to the Greenwood. Elrond looked after the both of us when our mothers died, and besides my Prince and hunting partner, Estel knows me better than any being in all of Arda. 

Silence hangs between us, draped across the strange stars, until he brushes it aside like a curtain of cobwebs. “What troubles you, Gwathel nín?” 

“Who said I was troubled, Gwador nín?” 

“Your face does, for one,” he replies, voice wry. 

“Manen?” 

“Well, you won’t look at me, Mellon nín. That’s usually a telling sign I’m right and you don’t want to admit it.” He gives no sign of letting up with his persistence. 

I sigh and glance down, taking in the familiar grizzled face and sharp gray eyes. “Mar bedithach, Estel?” 

“I’ll leave when you unburden yourself. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t already heard from anyone else on this journey. If you miss the Greenwood, or are having a difficult time restraining yourself from stabbing several members of this fine Fellowship, I assure you, you are not weak, nor are you alone.” White teeth flash in a crooked grin, and I can’t help returning it. 

“Those are both excellent guesses, and I admit to you that such thoughts have passed through my mind on multiple occasions. However,” I cast my gaze back up to the heavens, “I highly doubt that anyone else in this…most distinguished company is suffering from the same unrest of the soul that I am.” 

Oh Valar, don’t let my face be heating up…. 

Estel turns so his back rests against my branch, leaving his hands free to light his pipe. He does so and takes a few long draws without responding to my declaration. 

I wrinkle my nose. “You’re inviting an early death with such bad practices, Gwador nín.” 

“So Legolas has informed me several times over, but without such sisterly concern for my health.” He’s laughing at me on the inside, I can tell. “Speaking of, am I terribly far from the mark in assuming your fair Prince is the source of your ‘unrest of the soul’, Mellon nín?” 

He knows me too well. Even decades apart have done nothing to weaken the bond we shared as children, nor have I mastered any technique of hiding my thoughts that can escape his piercing gaze, it seems. 

“You don’t have to answer,” Estel murmurs. “Your silence speaks more clearly than anything you could say.” 

“I didn’t think I would fall in love with him,” I offer. 

A grunt is his disbelieving answer. “You spend every free minute together, and even the time that is required for patrolling, hunting, and so on and so forth. To be bluntly honest, I’m surprised it took you six decades. I owe my brothers some money, it would seem, if they still recall the wager we made upon your departure from Elrond’s house. Perhaps I won’t remind them.” 

I can’t decide whether to be astonished or angry. “You and the twins made a wager on me?” 

“Not on you,” Estel is quick to clarify. “On how long it would take you to develop an attraction towards Thranduilion.” 

“So you all just assumed I would, hmm?” 

“And rightly.” He sounds so insolent, as if all of a sudden he is once again the younger brother, and not the protective elder he made himself out to be as he reached maturity. “It was only a matter of time, Gwathel nín. You held out longer than I bet, of course, but Thranduilion is easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. My correspondence with you has been irregular, I will be the first to admit, but from the time I learned of your partnership on both the battlefield and hunting grounds, I thought you would find him a kindred spirit, and someone to admire.” 

I shake my head as if to protest, but what is there to protest? Estel sees truth. Far from being pampered royalty, Legolas it was who took it upon himself to teach me the ways of his father’s kingdom. He reawakened the Silvan part of my heritage that had long since been denied its native wildness in Imladris, and instilled in me that ferocious love for the Greenwood that keeps the Silvan people rooted there even now, as we have to scrape our very livelihoods out of the Dark Lord’s overhanging shadow. We get along as well as if we have walked side by side for an Age, not the paltry decades I have been in the employ of King Thranduil’s guard. The Prince chooses me for the majority of his hunts and orc raids, and we have reached an understanding so fine that words need not be exchanged for us to always know where the other is in the thick of combat. 

He is nearly as much a part of my identity as the Silvan and Noldor blood that runs mingled through my veins. 

Is it any wonder, then, that I want more? 

“Enelya.” Estel’s voice is soft as he blows smoke into the breeze. “You can talk to me, you know. I’ll die before I betray your trust.” 

“I know.” I sink to a sitting position and let one leg dangle into space, resting an arm across my other knee. “I’m not entirely sure what else to say, aside from what I’ve already said. I love him, Estel.” 

He nods thoughtfully and taps the end of his pipe against his teeth. “Your eyes betray you when we travel. Ever they seek him out, even as you watch the landscape for danger.” 

Estel almost seems about to say something else, but even minutes of waiting do not draw it out of him, so I go back to the protest I would have made. 

“He does not distract me. I am as deadly as ever.” 

“I did not accuse you of distraction. I only observed that you watch him.” His eyes flit upwards, to my face, before darting away into the darkness again. “As he does you.” 

I stare down into my sworn brother’s shadowed countenance, unsure of whether my ears are playing tricks on me. Estel wouldn’t lie about such things. Surely I heard wrong. 

“He does what?” 

A burst of smoke from between his lips could mean either amusement or irritation. With Estel, the two often travel hand in hand. “Thranduilion. His eyes follow where you go when we are on the move. Always his attention is on you, even as he stands watch over us. You mean a great deal to him, Mellon nín.” 

Trying to tamp down the surge of emotion rising inside me, I shrug, letting the wind run its cool, long fingers through my hair. “I should hope I do. We’ve been through much together, and saved each other’s lives many times.” 

Now I know he’s annoyed with me. “I meant more than that. I don’t have much with which to wager at the moment, but if I did, I might wager he feels similarly about you as you do him.” 

I stare down at Estel, but he’s looking away again. “Well. Even if that were the case….” I trail off, pulling my knees back up to my chest. “There are too many problems standing in our way.” 

“Such as…?” 

“By the Valar, you’ve become so nosy in your old age, Little Brother.” Despite my ribbing, I can tell by the set of his jaw that this ridiculous matter has become of utmost importance to him for some reason, and I know Estel too well to believe he would give up before we have talked this through. I sigh, resigning myself to discussing my nonexistent romance with him. 

“For one, he’s thousands of years older than I, Estel. I’m barely over a century old.” 

“Oh no,” he mutters dryly. “How scandalous, an age difference.” 

Realizing that he and Arwen are also thousands of years apart, I drop my forehead to my knees. “Well, maybe that wasn’t the best reason.” 

“No, it wasn’t.” Another long draw of his pipe sends a misty cloud drifting about his face. 

“His father would never approve of his son taking up with a Silvan and not a Sindar.” This is painfully true. Legolas told me of his father’s harsh objections to his interest in Tauriel quite some time ago. 

“Are you in love with Thranduil?” Estel asks in a monotone. 

I glare at him. “No! Mîbo orch, Estel.” 

He ignores my insult. “Then worry less about what Thranduil thinks and more about what Legolas thinks. He’s as loyal as one could ever be to those he chooses, and more than stubborn enough to stand up to his father.” 

There is wisdom in his words. However, the biggest reason that has kept me silent on this subject for so long still remains. 

“You know Elves only love once,” he murmurs, tone fading to gentle. “And they seldom err in their choice of soulmate.” 

“I know.” The words slip from my tongue, condensing in the cool air. “And he once thought he loved another.” 

Estel says nothing to this revelation, merely sending smoke rings floating up into the night sky. I can’t tell if he’s pondering what I’ve said, or if he truly has no rebuttal for it. 

“You never saw the way he looked at her, Estel. He talked about her many times when it was just he and I on a hunt. No one else was ever allowed to see how deeply he was hurt when she fell for the Dwarf. I can’t be sure, but I expect he’s never been the same since.” It feels freeing, to finally relate all of this to my sworn brother. I keep many secrets, probably the reason Legolas felt he could confide his heartbreak in me. Yet long has that particular burden hung heavy on my own heart, and I am relieved to bare it to the man beside me. 

His hand rests comfortingly on my back, once again the protector he thought I needed when we were young. “None of us are ever the same as we once were, Mellon nín. Much as you resemble the elleth I once knew, even you have been changed by your time in the Greenwood. Your people may not change as swiftly nor as dramatically as mine, and yet not even the eternal can live so long in Arda without being shaped. Six decades certainly influence a lot of things.” 

I nod, turning his argument over in my mind. “You say he watches for me?” 

The small smile that crosses Estel’s weather-worn face is this time not sarcastic nor teasing. “Indeed he does. Whenever the two of you are parted for a time, even if it is just that I sent you off to scout ahead, he is as tightly drawn as his own bowstring until you return. Who knows, perhaps even he hasn’t entirely recognized it yet. But something will come of it, Enelya. Of this I am sure.” 

“And if Elladan and Elrohir were along with us, am I to assume you would all place a wager on how soon?” 

He nudges me with his elbow. “There’s that sense of humor I’ve been missing. Now, I suppose I had better leave you, because as unobtrusive as he thinks he is being, someone else is waiting for you. I’ll take next watch. Losto mae, Gwathel nín.” 

“Nostad lín sui orch, Estel,” I snicker, referring both to the stench of his pipe and what I’ve been telling him since childhood. “And le hannon.” 

He waves as he returns to the light of the fire. “Carnen an gwend, Enelya.” 

I stare back at the stars above me, knowing that if who Estel implied is really waiting for me, he will approach at his own time and no amount of cajoling will bend him my way sooner. 

So I wait as well. 

No more than a sigh of the tree itself heralds his arrival beside me on the branch. 

“Do you wish to be alone with your thoughts, Mellon nín?” 

Gazing over my shoulder, I am met by Thranduilion’s piercing blue eyes as he leans against the trunk of my perch. 

“If so, I will gladly leave you to them.” There is the slightest wistful note beneath his tone; for all his politeness, he wishes to speak to me. 

Did he overhear my conversation with Estel? 

Heart starting to flutter like a sparrow’s wings, I shake my head. “Avo ‘osto, Hîr nín. Baren bar lin, as they say.” 

“What have I done to deserve such formal address, Mellon?” he asks lightly. Though he laughs, warm and cheerful, an undercurrent of hurt runs deep through the words. 

Does it hurt him, truly, to call him so? “Goheno nin, Thranduilion,” I murmur, unable to look away from that intense gaze. “My mind was not in the present moment, I fear.” 

“Ú-moe edaved, Enelya.” His reply is warm, and I cannot miss the affection that wreathes around my name as it falls from his lips. “I am only glad to learn I have not offended you.” 

“Rest assured, I would have let you know in no uncertain terms if you had,” I inform him saucily. 

His laughter at my cheek is bright now, all trace of concern gone. “This is true.” Nodding towards my view of the dark sky, he leans closer, bending so he can see what I am seeing. “Looking for old friends among the new?” 

“Indeed.” I stretch out my spine, careful not to knock him away from my shoulder. “I miss some of our constellations that you pointed out to me in the Greenwood.” 

Legolas stands upright again. “Aphado nin.” He reaches upward for a branch and swings to a higher level. 

I rise to my feet and stare up at him between the leaves. “Am man theled?” 

“To see the whole sky, of course. You’ll never gaze upon the greater picture if you do not climb higher, Mellon nín.” He holds out a hand. 

I take it, allowing him to pull me up to his level before continuing the climb. “You said those very words when you made me climb that tree the first time back home.” 

“I didn’t make you.” I can nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “You were given a choice.” 

It is my turn to laugh now. “Not when you say such poetic and inspiring things, Legolas. Although I was terrified of climbing to the crown of that tree, your way of putting it made me feel I should never be complete until I had seen the whole sky. I consider myself bewitched.” 

He shoves my shoulder as he easily passes me up. “No one is whole unless they have seen the entire sky. Estelio nin. It is truth.” 

“I do trust you. That’s why I climbed the tree with you that night, even though I was still frightened of falling. I knew you would catch me.” 

We remain in silence then until we break through the leaves, pushing through as if to the surface from underwater. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve done something similar with Thranduilion, those late nights after a hunt, but it still takes my breath away, to gaze upon the veil of stars and clouds that rolls ever on to the very edges of Arda. The sight makes the songs of my people flow through my veins, never failing to give me the gift of peace. 

I should thank him for introducing me to the sky more often. 

“I hope I never grow tired of this.” It takes me a moment to realize I’ve breathed the words aloud. 

Legolas is gazing out in the opposite direction, handsome face serene. “You will not.” 

I want to impertinently ask him how he would know, but I swallow the teasing words. He has walked these lands for nearly three millennia, and still finds such joy in it that he felt he needed to introduce me to that joy. He would know. 

“Enelya.” 

“Yes, Mellon nín?” I turn to face him. 

He drops down to sit on a branch that is old enough to serve as a seat. “Will you help me?” 

I know what he is asking for. He’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, but it has been a ritual of ours for years, and I enjoy it as much as he does. “Of course.” I make my way to his side and start to unwind his braids. 

“I’ll do the same for you,” he promises, relaxing into my touch. 

I weave my fingers through his silky hair as I release it to the mercies of the breeze, untangling any knots, minuscule as they are, and drawing out fronds of moss and bits of leaf that have found their way into his tresses. I can’t remember when we first started caring for each other’s hair at the end of the day, but it is always one of my favorite times spent with him. The few moments we have no responsibilities and can just talk about nothing, as friends are wont to. 

“What do you think the others would say, if they knew the truth?” I ask teasingly, moving to the tiny braids over his ear. 

His eyes flash to give me a sideways glance. “What do you mean?” 

I smirk. “Do you not hear them speak of you, in wondering whispers? They all ask how Thranduilion manages to stay so neat, how his hair, long and beautiful as it is, remains free of forest debris and untroubled by tangles. They have begun to speculate that it is some gift from Elbereth, that he looks fresh as the day we set off while the rest of them grow ever more unkempt. What would they say, if they knew it is simply because I re-braid your hair every night?” 

Wicked mischief flashes across his countenance for a brief instant. “They would all come running to you for your excellent services, I imagine. Do you want me to tell them, and so dispel the legends? I would prefer to keep your company in such matters to myself, but perhaps I shouldn’t be so selfish. After all,” he leans closer to whisper, “it might be worth it, to see you running your fingers through Aragorn’s oily mane.” 

I can’t stop the choking noise that comes from my throat. “I love that man, but there are some things I will never do for him, Legolas.” 

His quiet laughter floats into the night. “Nor should you have to.” 

Something pricks my fingertip and I yank my hand away from his hair. “Ai! Is this a burr, Thranduilion? Where on Arda did you find that?” 

He shrugs easily. “It could have been anywhere. Yet I assume it came from one of my solitary scouts. Had the halflings followed where I tread, surely they would have all come away full of them.” 

I try not to laugh at the thought of our four smallest companions drowning in burrs. “It is fortunate you only picked up one.” 

Once my Prince’s hair has been seen to, he turns so I can sit before him and begins the same process on mine. Much as I love the feeling of the wind running its fingers through my hair, it cannot compete with the gentle and nimble hands of Legolas. My eyes close as those hands begin their familiar path, and for some time all that I know is the warmth of his body next to mine and the soft melody of the well-loved song he hums next to my ear. 

Is it any wonder, that I have come to care for him as I do? 

“Mellon nín?” he murmurs suddenly. 

“Yes?” 

“What made you decide to accompany me on this quest? You know you could have returned to the Greenwood.” 

“That I do.” I sigh and let my eyes flutter open again. How much do I say? “But if this quest fails, it will not matter if I had returned to the Greenwood, for even Thranduil Elvenking cannot keep the shadows at bay forever if the Dark Lord triumphs.” 

He is silent for some time, and I let him remain so. I learned long ago that Legolas will not share what is on his mind except at a time of his own choosing. 

“I suppose you are right,” he finally concedes. His fingertips brush my ear, and I shiver at the contact. “It was no doubt my own desire to know you would be safer at home that clouded such truth from my mind.” His voice grows somber. “You do know, Enelya, that we may never see the Greenwood again.” 

“Of course, Mellon nín. Yet through all my time in my mother’s land I have been at your side, and the Valar themselves could not keep me from staying beside you. Even unto the Halls of Mandos, I would rather accompany you than be apart from you.” My breath catches on the last word. Have I said too much? 

His hands pause in their combing to rest upon my shoulders. “I am blessed, then, to have found such a companion as you.” 

“Le hannon, Legolas.” 

When next he speaks, there is a layer of hesitation resting over his tone that I rarely hear from him. “Do you know, I was quite angry when you first insisted on traveling with me.” 

“Oh, I remember. How could I not?” I sniff. “You didn’t speak to me the entire first day of our journey.” 

“I am not proud of my conduct,” he admits penitently. “However, I do realize, since that time has passed, that some good came of it.” 

I feel his long fingers trace my jawline, soft as a breath, turning my face slightly and prompting me to shift so I can meet his gaze. 

His eyes are deep and thoughtful, turned mithril silver by the moon as it breaks from behind a cloud. 

“Do you know, Enelya, how that one day without your company felt to me? Even the torture of seeing you walk at the perimeter of our Fellowship, yet kept from approaching you — by my own stubbornness — made my heart feel sundered from my chest. I realized that day that I could not have endured it if you had indeed returned home as I suggested. One day without your laugh, without your smile on me, was enough for a lifetime.” Legolas’s tone is raw with honesty, and a great many things seem to be making sense to me now. 

It would seem Estel may have been correct, after all, though I won’t tell him so. 

I remember how difficult that first day of the trek was, knowing all too well that Legolas was displeased with my choice. I have seen him angry, at his father, usually, and I knew all the signs too well. I can recall then how delighted and relieved I was when I awoke the following morning to the smell of my favorite fish baking over the fire; Legolas and I have had our fair share of tiffs over the long years, and that is his tried-and-true method of asking my forgiveness when he is at fault. 

We ate our morning meal sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, no one else the wiser of our wordless play of apologies and affirmations. 

Well, Estel probably was. But he doesn’t count. 

“What do you wish to say to me, Mellon nín?” I murmur, lifting my own fingers to brush against his cheek. 

He leans into my touch. “I have thought about you much during these uncertain days, even when we are not given much opportunity to talk. About how sorely I would have missed your presence, and grieved at not being able to feel you at my back whenever we face a threat. About how much I have missed times like this, when there is no one but you and I beneath the stars, sitting in the lap of the heavens.” 

“And what would you have done, without me to braid your hair? Become as scruffy as dear Estel?” I tease. 

He curls his lip in mock disgust. “Gerich faer vara, suggesting such a thing to me! I should certainly think not. I admire your Estel, Mellon nín, but I don’t believe the man has bathed once since we set out from Imladris. Yet he has had plenty of chances!” 

I laugh, leaning back against his chest and settling into my new position, comfortable from countless times of sitting like this. “Estel and his questionable hygiene aside, what were you saying?” 

His hands trail down my arms to my hands, where he weaves our fingers together. His hands are finer, more elegant than a mortal man’s, yet they are still wider than mine, surrounding my smaller ones with gentle fondness. This, too, is a much-practiced gesture between us, though there is a different flavor to it tonight. It feels more intimate, as if it means more than our mutual trust and respect this time. 

He smiles; I can hear it in his singsong words, close to my ear. “What I am trying to say, Enelya, is le annon veleth nín.” 

He gives his love to me? 

“Gerich veleth nín,” I answer simply. “It already belonged to you.” 

His lips brush my hair. “I used to wonder, when I was a much younger ellon, why I never felt the need to find a life partner when I came of age. Indeed, Ada certainly bothered me about it for several centuries, until other more pressing issues caught his attention.” 

I’ve never heard Legolas refer to Thranduil as Ada, and certainly not with the echo of a sigh beneath the endearment. It makes my heart ache strangely, to wonder what long-forgotten love once flowed freely between adar and iôn before they let their rift widen so far. 

But this moment is not to be sullied by mourning what has been lost. 

“Do you believe one can wait thousands of years to find their soulmate?” he asks. 

“I do. I know most can’t fathom such a wait, but for our people, it does not matter.” 

“Truly. I think I never pursued anyone with much seriousness because my heart knew it was waiting for yours.” Legolas turns me slightly, so our eyes can meet again. “I would make up for my blindness, Meleth nín, if you wish it.” 

I rest my forehead against his. “I wish it so, Meleth nín.” 

Then his lips are pressing into mine, and this kiss that I have awaited many years is a summer thunderstorm, warm and wild, washing away everything that came before and paving the way for love to bloom. 

Whatever our perilous path holds for us, I suddenly have all certainty that we can weather it. 

Together. 

Mae govannen = Well met

Gwathel/Gwador nín = Sworn sister/brother

Manen = How?

Mellon nín = My friend

Mar bedithach = When are you leaving?

Mîbo orch = Go kiss an orc

Losto mae = Sleep well

Nostad lín sui orch = You smell like an orc

Le hannon = Thank you

Carnen an gwend = For friendship

Avo ‘osto = Don't worry

Hîr nín = My Lord

Baren bar lin = My home is yours

Goheno nin = Forgive me

Ú-moe edaved = No need to forgive

Aphado nin = Follow me

Am man theled = Why?

Estelio nin = Trust me

Gerich faer vara = You have a fiery spirit

Le annon veleth nín = I give my love to you

Gerich veleth nín = You have my love

[estelofrivendell]

Hello ! Hope you're doing well

Could you please write a Legolas x Reader where the reader is playing piano (i know piano don't exist in LOTR lol so actually it could be any other instruments, I just prefer piano) during the Rohirrim party and Legolas fell even harder for them and thought it was the right time to confess his feelings (if you can also include that they've been distancing lately)

Hope it is not too much and take your time to write it!!

Legolas x Reader (The Pianist)

A/N: Hope you like this, anon! Legolas is a little tricky to write, trying to get better with him and his characterization.

The Rohirrim were a merry bunch, there was no doubt about that. Despite the heavy losses in Helm’s Deep, the return of Gandalf and Éomer lifted their spirits greatly. 

The celebration began as soon as they returned to Edoras with Merry and Pippin, cheerful and energetic as always. Legolas was unsure if he was dreaming but he swore the two hobbits were not as tall as they are now the last time he saw them.

After Gimli passed out, Legolas checked the great hall to find the remaining ones not yet intoxicated. There was Aragorn, who never took in more than he wanted to, Éowyn, who did not seem to enjoy these kinds of things. And there was you, playing the piano and surrounded by jolly men singing a song about falling in love.

If the theme of the party was to celebrate the recent victory and honor the fallen, then everyone was miserably failing, because they sure are not making any mention of the dead in their song.

As soon as the song came to an end, he approached you, narrowly avoiding the tipsy men about to bump into him and passed by others who lost their balance. You looked up at him and grinned.

“Hello, Legolas,” you greeted cheerfully. “Would you care to join me?”

“I am afraid I am not very skilled at the piano,” said Legolas. “I do, however, take pride in my skill at the harp. You never told me you played the piano.”

“You never asked.”

True enough, Legolas felt he did not know you well. He started off preferring your company over the others, especially Gimli’s, but in a strange twist of fate, he would not hesitate to call Gimli his best friend now. You were what he liked to call thoughtful; always thinking of the future, hoping for the best instead of the worst. He was no cynic even if the odds point to a complete destruction of the world and someone like you and your optimism was a refresher.

Legolas thought this was the right moment to start over. “We speak little to each other lately. Perhaps at dusk you could teach me how to play the piano and get to know each other more.”

“I would love to.”

-

“It’s not that hard, Legolas. You’re tensing up. Everyone has to start somewhere, and if I can do it, then so can you.”

Legolas could read basic piano sheets and memorised all the keys and what notes they represented,  but couldn’t hit the notes as well as he wished. One second, he’ll be playing fine but his fingers would suddenly tense and make it difficult for him to continue, abruptly ending his practice awkwardly.

“It happens to the best of us,” you insisted. “Besides, you’re lucky enough to have all your life to master the piano.”

Legolas chuckled. “That is true.”

And for the first time in what he guessed was weeks, Legolas felt light heartened, like he always was before you two grew distant from each other. He’s not sure how it happened but he was sorry those weeks were wasted with lack of interaction instead of getting closer to you.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Legolas asked.

“Not at the moment, no,” you said. “Why?”

“If you would let me, I would like to take you out for a ride at dawn. Edoras has a lot of lovely things to offer. We could talk about that and more about each other.”

You smiled. “That they do. I’d love to, Legolas. I think you're wonderful to be around.”

[thewulf]

Hello! How are you?

I wanted to see if I could request an Aragorn x reader. You don’t have to write anything! No pressure <3 It is a bit cheesy, so…

Maybe something where they started having strong feelings for each other during their travels to destroy the ring and are so desperately longing after the other, just that they never confess and even the encouragement of the fellowship doesn’t help. To the dismay of the fellowship, both of them convince themselves their love is not reciprocated and that the other cares for them in a platonic way, even if there are obvious signs.

So when they finally arrive to a kingdom for shelter and to rest, she meets her very good friend from childhood and obviously, they want to catch up. They might still be a bit more affectionate towards the other: like hugging, her blushing when talking about her interest in Aragorn (as her friend took notice of Aragorns subtle glaring). Basically what she would do when she is with him; just a bit more reserved) only for him to misunderstand and getting jealous. With him wanting to confess right away.

I love those tension-filled fics, so would you be ok with writing it angsty but fluffy?

I have no idea who the friend or the kingdom are supposed to be- it could be someone we know or not- I feel like I‘ve written my request too detailed and I don’t want to stump your inspiration. I’m sorry 😅. I also hope this makes sense because English is not my first language.

I hope you have a wonderful week!! Drink water and thank you for doing this.

Ps: It should be scary how fast I‘ve been going through you works- they are very well written- I really like your writing style :)

Ahhh wait this is so cute. I'm a freaking fiend for jealousy fics hahahah and this is actually perfect! I feel like its gotta be Helm's Deep before the battle so its just hella angsty too. Like he knows he could die and then seeing you with another male drives him MAD. and I feel like Legolas and Gimli have to give him shit for it hahaha

I also love detailed requests! It's always a fun challenge :) Hoping to get this out after a few more requests :)

[minaturefics]

In My Place

Request: hey ! 🥰 i was wondering if as a fic, you could write about maybe the reader and aragorn being friends for a long time and when the fellowship forms, the reader starts to form a friendship w boromir too, except aragorn starts to get a little jealous, and he and the reader are at odds w each other? but then the group gets attacked and split up, and aragorn kinda reveals how he feels while they’re arguing and looking for the rest of the group? @sebstanshit

A/N: This came out angstier than I thought it would, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! Also 100% convinced Aragorn can be a little bitch when he wants to be ("and i will die as one of them" smh legolas was talking in elvish for a reason aragorn)

Aragorn x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

No content warnings

3k words

---

The cool evening air blew through the open window of Aragorn’s rooms, and with it came the faint sound of music from Elrond’s Halls. The scent of rosemary lingered in the air, the sprig still floating in the wash basin in the corner. You leaned back on the wall, your arms crossed over your chest, and watched Aragorn fiddle with his hair. His fingers carded through the damp strands, untangling and smoothing the locks so accustomed to neglect. 

Your fingers twitched. How easy it would be to cross the room, to offer to help him. A few paces and you would be by his side. A few paces, and the distance you tried so hard to maintain would vanish under your feet. You shifted and tore your eyes away from him. It could not be. Could never be. Aragorn was a friend, and that was enough.

“What is the matter, my friend?” Aragorn glanced over his shoulder. “If you are impatient to join the party, please go ahead. I will be there soon.”

How could you tell him? What words could possibly convey the maddening desire to be near him? The constant pull at your heart and tug at your limbs, the draw of your gaze to his hands, his eyes, his lips. 

You nodded and forced a smile onto your face. “I will leave you to your battles.”

You slipped out of his room and down the open corridor towards the farewell celebration. Owls hooted in the distance, and crickets chirped in the bushes nearby. You inhaled, sucking in the comforting smell of pine. When did the silent torture of his presence start? A few months? A year? 

All you knew was that a month ago you had reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm, and when his own hand came to rest on top of yours, you felt as if you wanted to stay there, enfolded in his touch. 

You had ripped your hand back, had turned from him and fled. 

You were no fool. You knew how others looked at him, how their eyes would linger on his form, how they spoke of him when he was not around. How could you compare to any of them? Aragorn was an heir, a king. You were just another orphan, common as the daisies in the fields. It was only by sheer chance and Elrond’s kindness that you found your way to his side. 

Ever the constant companion, ever the unwavering friend. No one else knew how he liked his pipe filled, how he favoured his left just ever so slightly when he fought, how he sometimes dreamed of his father’s voice. 

You shook your head and took another breath. It would be no good showing up to the party bitter and brooding. You rounded the corner into one of the empty halls and stumbled into someone. Warm arms came around you, steadying.

“Forgive me, I was not watching where I was going,” Boromir said, a rueful smile on his face. 

“I am equally at fault, my lord.” You stepped back and straightened your robes. “Are you not attending the party?”

“I am on my way there, but I must admit that I am lost. Lord Elrond’s halls are maze-like, and I am unfamiliar with them.” He chuckled. “My companions left me to wrangle my hair so I had no one to guide me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You are not the only one who suffered such a fate. I have just abandoned my friend to his tangles.”

“It seems that we are well matched then! Seeing as you have deserted your companions and I have been deserted by mine. I trust you know the way?”

“We have just a few more rooms to pass through and we shall be there.” You started and he fell in step with you. 

“I am looking forward to a good celebration, even if it is one for our leaving. Valar knows we all could use some cheer.” He flashed another smile at you and you felt your lips curl up. “And those halflings, the hobbits, I expect they shall be good fun.”

You thought of the troublemaking hobbits unknowingly shocking the elves with some Shire custom. “I expect they will be dancing on the tables and making a fine mess of Elrond’s hall.”

“They are good additions to the Fellowship, I think.”

You arched a brow at him. “You do not think they will slow us down? Or are unnecessary burdens?”

Aragorn had expressed such a thought to you, worried that they may not be fit for such a journey.

“Perhaps, but swords and bows are not the only things that win battles. A little bit of hope and joy can be the difference between a person choosing to stay down, defeated, or to stand up, determined.”

You glanced at him, heart lifting at his words. Hope and joy. Perhaps you could afford some of that, some lightness, some cheer. Perhaps you shall never have Aragorn, perhaps the world will be engulfed in darkness. But there was still happiness to be had. 

The music grew louder and the both of you approached the open door. Merry and Pippin were dancing, arms linked, while the elves looked on with amused smiles. 

“I see we have not missed too much,” Boromir said, laughing. “Those little hobbits are yet to raise any hell.”

He looked at you, mirth in his eyes and you chuckled. “Perhaps we could be persuasive.”

--

The late evening sun streamed through the trees and casted the forest in a soft gold. Aragorn trudged through the shrubs and bushes, twigs snapping under his heavy steps. Behind him the hobbits chatted, comparing recipes, and further behind, you were speaking to Boromir. Your laugh rang out in the air, one of pure joy and happiness. 

He fought the urge to glance behind, to see your smiling face, and he ground down on his teeth. After a month of your shifting eyes and feeble smiles, all it took was Boromir’s arrival to change that. 

Aragorn had tried all he knew to cheer you but you had been determined to evade him with every attempt. His invitations to walk in the wilds went rebuffed more often than not, and his little dry comments about things had not elicited anything more than a forced smile from you. 

What had happened? For it seemed that one evening you were fine, and the next you were not. You had made your excuses to him, fatigue from the constant scouting, fear for what lay ahead. But it seemed that all that vanished when you were in the company of other people. That evening at the farewell party in Rivendell had only served to confirm his observations. 

You had been standing close to Boromir, clapping along to the music, and when he had slung his arm over your shoulder and drew you in, you did not recoil. All night long, you had laughed at Boromir’s words, had nudged him with your elbow when the hobbits beckoned him to join them, had shared his goblet of wine when you had misplaced your own. 

How strange it was, for Aragorn to see the both of you the way he expected others had seen you and him before. Was his place not there, where Boromir had been standing?

Ever the constant companion, ever the unwavering friend. No one else knew how you would raid the kitchens at night for food, how you would sing little made up songs when you thought you were alone, how you traced the scar on your arm when you were nervous. 

Was it possible that you had seen what was in his eyes, the adoration plain on his face, and were repulsed? He had tried his best to disguise it, to keep hidden the tenderness in his heart. But from the way Elrond would sometimes look at him, compassion mingled with amusement, he sensed perhaps he was not as successful as he thought. 

He had thought of speaking to you, but the words never came. His eyes would linger on your face, on the line of your nose or the curve of your lips, and when you looked up at him, head tilted in question, all he could do was shake his head and look away. How could he burden you with his love? Risk confining you to a throne when he knew you belonged out here in the wilds?

He could never have you, so what good would it do to have the words spoken?

“Aragorn,” you called and he blinked out of his thoughts, turning. 

The hobbits were leaning on each other, cheeks flushed and foreheads sweaty. Legolas and Gimli were circling the small clearing, and you and Boromir were frowning at him. 

“What is the matter?” His eyes darted between his companions. “Why have we stopped?”

“We have tried to call you twice,” you said. “We are all weary, it is best if we camp here for the night.”

Aragorn glanced at the woods, the darkness growing closer as night began to fall. “We should walk another hour or so. We can light torches if we must.”

“Aragorn, there is little point. It is better to rest well and start early tomorrow.”

“I agree,” Boromir said, laying a hand on your shoulder. 

Aragron’s heart twisted at the sight. He opened his mouth to protest, to mention the urgency of the quest, when out of the corner of his eye he saw Legolas slowly shake his head. He exhaled, willing the tension in his chest and shoulders to ease. “Very well, but we leave at dawn.”

The hobbits gave each other tired smiles and went about setting up camp. Aragorn sat down against a tree and rummaged through his pack. Footsteps approached and he looked up to see you walking towards him. 

“Are you alright, Aragorn? You seem ill at ease.”

What could he say? What words could convey the wretched ache in his chest when he saw you with Boromir? When he looked at you and saw the ghost of himself by your side where Boromir was. 

He shook his head. “I am simply weary.”

“Boromir mentioned teaching us some game he and his brother contrived to entertain themselves as children. It involves twigs and pebbles I believe. Would you care to join us?”

“No, I am alright as I am.”

You glanced back to where Boromir was teaching Legolas. The elf knocked two twigs together hesitantly, his brows furrowed in confusion. Merry flicked a rock at Sam who tossed it back. A smile crept onto your face. “Are you certain? It will be quite fun, I imagine.”

Fun. When was the last time he allowed himself such a thing? Years ago, perhaps, running wild and feral through the woods with you. Back when crowns and kings did not matter, where shadow and doom did not loom so close. He could not afford such a thing, but that was no reason to deprive you of it. 

He nodded towards Boromir and forced a smile. “You better go or you will miss out.”

He watched you kneel beside Legolas, watched Pippin lean against your shoulder, and tried not to stare as you looked up and smiled at Boromir. 

--

The clash of steel rang out in the air. You reached into your quiver and knocked your last arrow to your bow. Aragorn was behind you, fighting off one of the orcs. Another one made its way towards you, lumbering in its heavy armour as it stepped over the bloodied bodies of its company. You took a breath and let your arrow fly. 

It hit its mark true, the arrow protruding from its neck. The orc let out a spluttering cry as its eyes rolled back. It fell to its knees and you turned to look behind you. 

The orc lay dead at Aragorn’s feet and he cleaned his blade before sheathing it. How handsome he looked, windswept and flushed from battle, his eyes bright and his lips parted. A stray leaf was lodged in his hair and your fingers longed to pluck it out. 

He turned to you, a grim smile on his face. “It has been some time since we fought together, has it not?”

“Our luck has run out,” you grimaced, walking over to him. “The Enemy has found us.”

He looked around, eyes darting between the trees. “They have led us away from the rest. I suspect that was what they intended all along.”

“We should find them, head back to camp.”

He nodded. “I fear for the hobbits, especially Frodo. I worry what may happen if he and Boromir are alone.”

You frowned at him. “What do you imply?”

“You saw the way he looked at the ring on Caradhras. I fear he will not be able to resist the temptation.”

Your stomach lurched at the thought of Boromir trying to tear the ring from Frodo. Laughing, cheerful Boromir, driven to madness by the cursed thing. “What you fear may not come to pass. Let us go.”

You found your bearings and started towards the camp. Aragorn walked next to you, his shoulders tight and his face drawn. There was something on his mind, you knew. It was the slight puckering of his lips, the subtle sucking in of his cheeks. Something on his mind he was trying very hard not to speak. 

“What is it, my friend? I know that look.”

He glanced at you, face pained before he let out a long breath. “I wish you would not let your feelings for Boromir cloud your judgement.”

You blinked at him. Your feelings for Boromir? Was it such a terrible thing to have some faith in a friend? “Cloud my judgement? We are his companions, we should have more trust.”

“Your trust in him does not extend to mine.”

What did Aragorn mean by that? Was he aware of something you were not?

Ever since the fellowship left Rivendell he had been cold and distant to Boromir. Aragorn only ever spoke to him when he needed to, his tone short and clipped. Boromir had asked you about it once, but you could not offer any explanation for Aragorn’s behaviour. Perhaps the presence of the steward’s son was too strong of a reminder of the throne he was fated to take. 

But that did little to explain his disposition towards you. Since the journey began it felt as though an undercurrent of disharmony ran between you and him. Insisting on walking more instead of resting, arguing over which clearing would be better for camp, declining the buttered mushrooms you knew he loved. 

Even your attempts to coax it out of him by the fireside yielded little more than a few dismissive words. Why, after so many years, did he decide to shut you out? At a time where trust and faith were needed the most? You shook your head and sighed. 

“Aragorn, you have been in a foul mood since we left Rivendell. What has been on your mind?” His jaw tensed and he glanced away. 

“It is nothing.”

You let out a mirthless laugh. “Have you also lost your trust in me?”

Aragorn stopped and turned to face you. His grey eyes were stormy and his lips were twisted. “Have you lost your trust in me?”

“What do you mean?” You crossed your arms, frown growing on your face.

“For weeks, you have been sullen. You refuse to confide in me, you reject my attempts at cheering you.” He glanced away and let out a sharp exhale. “And yet when Boromir arrived, it took little more than a few days for the both of you to become fast friends.”

You blinked at him. He was bothered by your closeness with Boromir? 

“If I have betrayed your trust in some way, you should have told me,” he said, voice a little lower. “I do not have your love, I know, but it is far too difficult to also lose your friendship.”

What was he saying? Why did he sound so resigned, so bitter? “Aragorn—”

He sighed. “It is out at last. My words, my feelings.”

Your heart raced in your chest. His feelings? Aragorn felt for you what you did for him? All this while he had shared in your feelings of longing. Had you missed his glances, so wrapped up in your own pain? So determined not to love him that whatever tenderness he might have shown was lost to you.

You took a steadying breath. “You have never lost my friendship, and you have always had my love.”

His eyes snapped to yours, the irritation melting away into confusion. His frown softened and his jaw grew slack. His lips parted and closed, and he shook his head. “How can this be?”

You reached up, hand trembling, and cupped his cheek. His skin was warm, his beard rough. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. You stroked his cheek with your thumb, relishing the feel of him under your hand. You tugged gently and he brought his forehead to yours. You inhaled his scent, musk and moss, pipeweed and woodsmoke. 

“I fear I have been foolish,” he whispered. “I had thought you and Boromir… You have been so distant of late.”

“I have been foolish as well. I thought if I was not so close to you, it would ease my aching heart.”

He drew back and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Did it work, meleth nin?”

You chuckled. “It only served to make it worse.”

He beamed at you but his expression sobered. “The throne—”

“Aragorn, my place is here with you. No matter where you may go. I am more worried about what people may say. I am not…”

“I do not care,” he muttered and brought his lips to your forehead. “I would not be parted from you.”

“Then do not be parted from me.” You reached for his hand and squeezed. His eyes were bright and a smile lingered on his lips. His arms came around you, strong and safe, and you tucked your nose into his neck. He leaned against you, the tension melting away from his shoulders. 

 “Come,” he said, pulling back. “We have tarried too long. I do fear for the hobbits. They are ill-equipped to defend themselves.”

You reached for the leaf in his hair, a smile growing on your face. He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Then let us hurry. We will have our time later.”

“Yes,” he muttered, his eyes meeting yours, soft and full of promise. “We will have our time.”

[amessywritersmind]

At The End - Legolas

@lune-hime submitted:

Hi there! I’ve absolutely fallen in love with your writing and immediately had to request something! I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x elf reader where they are in an established relationship and reunite after the battle of Gondor in ROTK for Aragorn’s coronation. With fluffy interactions of them seeing each other again and partying/celebrating with the rest of the fellowship. Thank you so much love <3

Summary: You and legolas finally reunite after the ring is destroyed.

Word Count: 822

Authors Note: I am so sorry this took me forever, but I hope you enjoy!!

It had felt like days since I’d last had sight of my friends. I had been too preoccupied with killing the orcs in front of me to pay attention to how far I’d wandered. If I looked to my right, I briefly thought I could catch a glimpse of a hobbit, and on my left, maybe the glistening white of Gandalf’s new attire, but I couldn’t be sure.

The battle had seemed to last for ages, surrounded on all sides by orcs that had just come directly from the mouth of evil itself. The only hope any of us soldiers held was a sliver, but it was there. The hope that Frodo and Sam would make it to the mountain and destroy the ring. The hope that Frodo and Sam would save us all.

I had believed in them from the very beginning. I had felt in my heart that Frodo could do it, with great sacrifice, but it was one he was willing to make. So when the tower fell, and the earth around the men of middle earth fell, taking many orcs with it, I couldn’t help the slight pain in my heart at the worry for Frodo.

Finally though, I could breath, and with this, I began searching for some familiar faces. Eventually I found Eomer and followed him back up to the white city, hoping with everything in me that I would find long, shining blonde hair and blue eyes waiting for me somewhere up there. Once we arrived in the city, we immediately went to get treated for the injuries that are always inevitably obtained when one is in war.

I spent quite a while in the medical area waiting for my injuries to heal, just itching to get up and walk around and more importantly, see my friends. Once I was finally well enough to leave, I immediately set out to find someone I knew. Eowyn just happened to be that person. She caught me up on all that had happened in the past few days regarding Aragorn and his upcoming coronation. She also informed me that Elrond and Arwen were here for said coronation, and that Arwen had brought me one of my special dresses from home.

Eowyn showed me to a room she claimed Aragorn had reserved just for me, showed me where everything to bath and dress was, and left me to my devices to get ready. I quickly washed and dried, stepping into a beautiful elvish gown in the shade of lavender. Arwen knew me well. Once I was satisfied with my hair, I made my way to where Eowyn told me to meet her.

In her place, I found the blonde haired elf that I had been looking for since the battle ended. I nearly cried at the sight of him, his smile and his bright eyes casting themselves in my direction. My legs seemed to freeze up, and then suddenly melt, make a beeline straight for his arms.

“Legolas” I all but whispered, close to tears.

“I knew you’d be alright” He said, his voice full of relief.

“I’ve been looking for you for days, I didn’t know where you were or if you were ok or not. You worried me!” I started venting, letting out all the pent up frustrations. He only laughed and pulled back to look me in the eye.

“I’m sorry Melamin (my love), I tried searching for you too, but it wasn’t until I ran into Eowyn that I found you. And I’m so glad I did. I too was worried, you know.” He admitted, gently placing a hand on my cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. I kissed the palm of his hand lightly.

“Everyone is ok?” I asked quietly, afraid to hear the answer. He nodded lightly.

“Everyone made it. We did it A’maelamin, Sauron is done and we’re alive, and I love you.” He exclaimed.

Instead of answering with words, I lean in to kiss him deeply. We pulled away, slightly flushed and breathless. Legolas smiled in a comforting sort of way before gesturing to the doors of the walkway we had been standing in.

“Come, Aragorn is waiting for us. Besides, he doesn’t know Arwen is here and I want to see his face when he does.” He confessed with a chuckle. I couldn’t help but laugh too. Anyways, I was excited to see the rest of the fellowship. I had missed them all dearly.

We stood off to the side, watching with awe and pride at the man Aragorn had become. A true king and righteous ruler. He came down the pathway after being crowned, saying hello to his friends along the way, until he came to us. Legolas and I stood in front of Arwen, shielding her from view as we congratulated him on everything he’s accomplished.

Later that evening, the fellowship gathered in the dining hall where a celebration was taking place. There were drink and food as far as the eye could see, and laughter and music was all that could be heard. Frodo and Sam were sat watching Merry and Pippin make a fool of themselves, as usual, a drink in each of their hands. The good in Middle Earth had won. We deserved this.

[celeste-clearwater-06]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please write something about how the Fellowship (+ Thorin?) Would help a s/o who's Disabled and Chronically ill. Like she has a lot of symptoms like chronic pain, chronic fatigue, difficulty sleeping, difficulty breathing at times, difficulty walking at times, higher sensitivity to the cold, difficulty talking at times, and anxiety, depression and executive dysfunction?

I've been really struggling with my chronic illnesses lately, namely my Autism, Anxiety, Sleep Apnea, a really bad Overbite, Raynaud's Syndrome, Asthma, etc, so I'd really appreciate an Imagine like this. I have a really weird disorder where one of my legs is longer than the other, and it's been causing me a lot of pain and difficulty walking lately, and people have been bullying me for it a lot too, so I could really use a Comfort Imagine right now. Thanks so much hun!!

It's no problem! I'm glad I can provide some comfort!! For each character, I'll use a specific struggling area, to make it a bit easier!! I hope I got these accurate enough, and of there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out!! You are strong, beautiful and so, so amazing!! Keep being you!! ❤❤

Help (The Fellowship// Thorin x Fem!Reader)

Aragorn (Autism)

Aragorn has known you for a long time, so helping with your autism is not new for him

He's particularly experienced in reading your emotions and meeting your needs, whether it's helping you out of stressful situations or calming you down, he's there 🥺

If there are large and boisterous gatherings in Rivendell, its almost guaranteed that you can become over-stimulated quickly, and Aragorn immediately senses this (spidey senses õoõ)

He's fast to find your hand and give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance

If that doesn't seem to help, he'll instantly stop what he's doing and take you out of the room

If you're someone who prefers lots of space and little physical contact, he is 100% respectful of this and asks if you'll let him touch or hug you (very much gentleman 😌)

If ever you're confronted by someone of importance, Aragorn is right by your side to ease some of the tension

Sometimes there are things you find difficult to say or get out of your system

The king seems to know exactly what it is and will help you out by saying it or asking you simple questions that you can easily answer

And he always reminds you, no matter WHAT

YOU ARE NOT STUPID 😤😡

You may struggle with some parts of your life, but every day, he's constantly telling you that you're very intelligent and kind

His patience is unending and he'll never let you think down on yourself

Overall, Aragorn is always someone and reminding you that it's all going to be okay ❤❤

Legolas (Anxiety)

Most nights, Legolas keeps watch (since elves don't require much sleep) and notices that you jolt awake out of the random

Now, most of the Fellowship notices that you're usually awake and ready to go before anyone else

But Legolas is really the one to address you first

You were a bit nervous to explain, since you didn't want to worry him or the great of the fellowship, amount the other disadvantages you have

He gently encouraged you, and finally, you explained to him your sleep apnea

Yeah, he was very concerned

I mean, his blue eyes widened with terror when you told him that you could basically die in your sleep if you weren't attentive enough 🙃

Legolas, from now on, sleeps directly next to you, or keeps extra careful watch over you at night

Because he could NEVER see his precious mortal friend become injured... Or worse 🥺🥺❤

The other members had noticed a change in his behaviors towards you as well...

Gimli teased him whenever he caught Legolas giving you some extra lembas bread or offered to carry you 👉👈

You really tried to assure Legolas that it wasn't a big deal when you were awake, since you're aware of your breathing situation

But still 😤

Legolas will always bring you comfort and take great care of you, and that will NEVER CHANGE

Because he loves you very much ❤🦋

Frodo (Anxiety)

Frodo is familiar with the feeling of great anxiety, seeing he had a stress-free life while living in the Shire and suddenly was forced to carry a piece of jewelry all the way to giant ass volcano

It's easy for you two to comfort each other and seek refuge in thoughts and feelings ❤

He's not super comfortable with the thought of you having a panic attack though...

Only because he's never had one

It starts to give him a panic attack whenever you have one around him the first time 😳-

Any time you begin to breathe heavy or hyperventilate, halfling boy is hot at your heels, rubbing your back and reminding you to breathe gently

(So many hugs, if you're up for it)

After you calm down, he's constantly checking on you, asking if you need anything etc.

Really, he just wants to know if he can help 🥺

And even with the weight and stress of carrying the ring, Frodo manages to cheer you up somehow

Samwise (Asthma)

Sam has never had to deal with asthma once in his life

He's very nervous when the subject is brought, afraid it might trigger something inside of you 🥺👉👈

But you just chuckle, assure him that it's alright, and you have ways of keeping it under control

And now, he wants to know everything about it, just to have the awareness in case something happens

Sam just wants to protect you forever, and this was a great way for him to start

He constantly reminds Aragorn that you'll need breathing breaks and will convince Gandalf to let you ride on his horse

He'll scold Pip and Merry if they are trying to drag you around and be silly, because as he says

"You'll rouse him/her/them up! We can't have Y/N gettin injured!" 🤨😠

Sam is MOM

As always, he's very kind and always makes sure your needs are met ❤🥺

Pippin and Merry (Raynaud's Syndrome)

Very confused halfings 🤔

Also extremely concerned!

You were eating one of the lesser pleasurable nights

It was cold and rainy, and a fire couldn't be started, not to mention the quiet arguments of Aragorn and Gandalf in the nearby woods

And Pip's eyes widened when he saw the tips of your petite fingers begin to pale upon hearing Aragorn mention Orcs

"What's wrong with your hands?!" He squeaked, pointing towards your now white-colored fingertips

You hadn't even noticed, nor felt, considering they were numb anyways

Merry looked over his cousin's shoulder and his eyes also widened, not with fright, but wonder

They were both fascinated with your condition, convinced that you were casting some spell Gandalf showed you

Although you reassured them it was just an extremely frustrating inconvenience that you had, among other things

So from then on, the disastrobus duo did their best to keep you out of the cold (and stressful situations!!)

As a distraction, the pair will tell you great stories of the shire, doing little dances and skits that always cheer you up 🥴

Sometimes, they can be a little rambunctious though...

Merry will pick up on this fact quickly, and nudge Pippin to get him to calm down

Even though it may not feel the best

They find your syndrome absolutely fascinating!! 🤔🤔

All in all, these two are always up for keeping your beautiful smile on your face and your spirits high!! ❤🌺

Boromir (Depression)

Throughout the journey, Boromir has always found an easy way to make you smile

After all, he himself has a fascinating way of brightening anyone's spirits

Yours included ❤

Boromir may not have great stories from The Shire, like Pip and Merry, but he sure has a lot of positive things to say

He'll often suggest sparring with the two troublemaking halflings, just so you can see him goof up and get knocked over 🥺

If the nights become cold and weary, he'll give you a warm hug or a nudge on the shoulder

And a few words of helpful encouragement along the lines of;

"Don't fret Y/N. You have more strength than you'll ever know."

"Let our spirits never dampen! We've come this far!" 😊

He's also an incredible listener

Boromir wants to hear what you have to say if you ever need to rant or get something off of your chest

And don't think for a second that he would ever judge you 😤

Son of Gondor sees past all of your insecurities and knows you for your beautiful, amazing self ❤❤

Gimli (Walking disadvantages)

As you travel across great plains and mountains, your limp doesn't go unnoticed by Gimli

It may take him a while to open up about it, since he's afraid he might offend you in some way

And once he asks you, you inform him that it's a difficulty that unfortunately cannot be changed any time soon

And where you come from, lots of people tease and bully you about it

He did NOT handle it well 😳

"wHAT BLUBBERING DULL-MINDED PIGNUTS-" 🤬

Although this Dwarf is short and a bit slow at times

He's fascinatingly strong 😳

And so, he makes it his duty to be your designated carrier 🥺

At first, your a tad skeptical...

I mean, he's only around 4 feet tall...

BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM THROW THAT HUGE AX AROUND?!

Gimli will happily carry you great distances when you need a break, and even longer

(Sometimes it's just to show off around the others-)

"Gimli, are you sure you don't want a break?"

"Aye lass! The strength of Dwarves is unending!" 😌

*struggling to breathe*

11/10, fantastic dwarf, will never let you down!!

Thorin (Executive Dysfunction)

Another Dwarf??

Absolutely

Thorin himself has trouble keeping composure with his time management (and sense of direction 🙄)

This means that he'll have an undying amount of patience for you and you only

There's just something about you that he fond of, and it fills in that little sassy, brooding place in his heart

Can also relate to you whenever you grow frustrated at the setback of your journey or lack of sleep

Is 100% willing to help you find your lost belongings (and once again, ONLY YOU)

Thorin will literally make the whole traveling party stop so that you can put something in your bag and make sure that you put it somewhere you'll remember

Always happy to give you extra gentle reminders of keeping your pack closed

The company is utterly SHOCKED with how he treats you

I mean, this man has always been extremely stubborn and hard headed

But when you show up, it's another person he can easily relate and share frustrations with

Also a master at organization?!? 🤔

The one thing he could do successfully was organizing the damn journey and traveling company, so ofc he's gonna be good at that 😂

Yeah, Thorin definitely has a soft spot for you

King under the mountain will never run out of patience and kindness for you 😌💙

Sorry these took so long!! I hope you like them!! ❤❤

[oakenlup]

Hello this kinda my first time asking/requesting since I’m so used to just writing prompts so idk if am at the correct spot

I have a request if your interested, it’s a Legolas x reader, where the reader is a bold savage warrior constantly fighting to get stronger then she already is. She’s also half elf and half uruk-hai or orc so she has a very strong and big body like a orc but beautiful features and soft long hair like a elf! She wears an animal skull as a mask to appear more fierce and threatening! L

Aww, I’m so honoured to be one of your first requesties! And yes, this is the right place! This is such a cool and creative trope like, I wish that was me hehe. <3

Legolas x reader: Fluff

gif creds go to the owner

Legolas was twirling an arrow on his finger, his pointy ears about to fall off due to Gimli’s bickering. Gimli better be glad the elf didn’t throw him into the fire infront of them.

However, the chatter was cut short, as leaves and branches began to creak, notifying the fellowship someone or something was near.

Drawing his bow, Legolas aimed it towards the trees. It was dark, but his elf eyes could make out a faint figure of something big, burly.

“Who goes there?” Aragorn states, drawing a sword from his left side, seeing Boromir shield the hobbits from any danger.

With a ruffle in the trees, your figure is visible now in the fire-light. A dirtied goats skull with broken horns appeared first, followed by a set of light green arms that shot up saying “I’m friendly, don’t shoot!”

The fellowship didn’t lower their weapons though, too busy taking in the jade coloured skin that was heavily decorated in strong muscles and a few scratch marks here and there. “Show yourself!” Gimli shouts, axe in hand, ready to pounce.

Lifting one arm up, you pull your mask off and plop it to the ground, letting your long silky hair cascade down the sides of your large form.

The fellowship began to lower their weapons; this person didn’t seem dangerous?

Legolas lowered his bow, but kept his eye fixed on the figure he was seeing. It was a woman!

Everywhere Legolas has been in his thousands of years in middle-earth, all the woman have been dainty or scared of battle, but not this one, this one is freakin’ gorgeously fierce!

“I’m here to make peace and join you all, Gandalf must of mentioned me?” Your surprisingly soft voice penetrated the air, followed by the crackling of the fire.

The fellowship’s faces frowned at the mention of the wizard, which notified you immediately on the situation.

“Oh”

“Come, sit with us, maiden” Aragorn asks, dropping his sword to the ground, but only getting a huff in return from the woman.

“Maiden? I assure you little ranger, I am no maiden. I’ve fought wars bigger than middle-earth itself. I’ve chopped off more heads that are present here right now. I have lifted a horse’s carcass, with my bare hands!” You say proudly, two green hands resting on your equally as impressive hips.

Legolas, was drooling.

“Well, you’re going to make a fine addition to our team then aren’t ya lassie? Haha, get the woman a drink dammit!” Gimli said, his laugh breaking the tense air.

Half a rabbit meal later, and you and this elven fellow have made good bonds. Sitting on a log facing away from the sleeping crew, you both make small talk on every adventure one another had been on.

“Your ears, their like mine” Legolas says, your ears now fully visible after being hidden by your glossy hair. “Yes, I am half-elf,” you say, giving them a little wiggle. “I see, and half orc, I presume?” Legolas says, taking in the rest of your orcish features. “That’s right, mother was a burly orc, and father was a soft elven warrior from Rivendell, they both died in battle” you retort, going off on a tangent on how both your parents managed to make you as strong as you were today, which made Legolas frown at their fate, but marvel at how you became this goddess you are today.

“My father would not approve of this, but you are a very beautiful young lady, your stature is admirable, better than every man or elven body I’ve seen... and your features are, stunning, like a swan or beautiful dove” Legolas states shyly, was he being too forward?

You laugh, who knew this privileged prince would be able to see something beautiful outside of his status quo. Yes, you were half-elf, but your battle scars and muscles bigger than Frodo himself did not resemble that, only your soft, delicate face and hair did.

“Well thank you, little one” you reply, taking in how Legolas was significantly smaller than you in muscle mass.

“To make this watch duty a little more interesting, how about I re-braid your hair? It must of gotten tussled in all those battles” Legolas quirked, seeing as the conversation had simmered down.

“So I can keep it out of the blood of my enemies? That would be grand!”

Although it was not the response he thought he’d get, Legolas couldn’t help but oblige to this powerful woman he had the fortune to sit next too.

————————

Why do all my fics end with Legolas and braiding LMAO. @imhereiguess420

[thespiritoflife]

Pairing: Legolas x reader

Warnings: grammatical errors, mention of character's death, angst, sad,..

A/N: Probably you all know this beautiful song. I love this song even though it is sad. It inspired me to write this story. Elves live forever, right? And what if one of them (specifically Legolas) fell in love with a man?

Who wants to live forever?

Who wants to live forever?

At the beginning of his life, Legolas was glad that he could live forever.  He lived for incredibly many years.  He did not reveal his age to anyone, he kept it to himself.  But if anyone looked into his wise eyes, he saw old age and sadness.  Great sadness.

Years have passed.  Centuries have passed.  Millennia have passed.  And Legolas was still here and not old.

But it was terrible.  It was incredibly painful to see all his friends die.  To see how they got old, and finally died.  To see their descendants die.  And their descendants ... and he was still here.

At first, it was his faithful friend once called Aragorn, now the revered King Elessar.  He was with him as he was laying on the bed, dying slowly.  He saw that he was happy. He got happy life. And Legolas had to reconcile with this.

And then Gimli.  His beloved dwarf friend also left this world.

Legolas buried him at Glittering Caves.  He was crying softly. He kissed the top of the grave and whispered, "You are forever in my heart."

When Legolas was really old but still young in body, he left his kingdom and went to the mountains to live.

Aragorn's descendant once visited him.  He didn't even know exactly who his descendant was, but many, very many years passed after Aragorn's death.  His descendants also slowly became extinct.  However, this one lived.

This descendant was incredibly similar to Aragorn.  With his appearance and behavior.  It hurt Legolas when he saw him.

He wanted to see the famous Legolas Greenleaf, the friend of his ancient ancestor, who was very helpful to his father.  In everything.

"How did you find me?"  Legolas asked him.

"It was easy.. You love the mountains."

Legolas nodded silently.  He was no longer the same as in the days of Aragorn.  He changed.  Especially in the soul.

"Legolas," he asked cautiously.  "What happened to you?"

Legolas blinked sharply and sighed.  It was a sad sight.

"My dear visitor, believe me, you would not want to live forever. It would destroy you. Their deaths."

"Whose death?"

"My friends,"  he replied.

Aragorn's descendant looked at the beautiful portrait of the young woman in the frame.

"Who's this?"

Legolas just smiled sadly.

Y / N was one of the few women that Legolas loved.  They met long after the War of the Ring.  She was very young, but they still fell in love.

However, Y / N was a man.  She wasn't an elf.  She didn't live long.

Legolas knew it, he knew it, but he married her.  He loved her sincerely.  She changed his life.  After the death of his friends, the people he loved, he no longer believed he would find someone to love.  He didn't believe he would start smiling again.  To be happy.

But Y / N proved to him that it was possible.

Everything is possible.

They lived long and happily.  But Y / N slowly aged.

Once at her favorite river, where she used to swim, Y / N decided on old age to at least get her feet wet.  Legolas went with her.  It hurt him that everything hurt her ... but human life was like that.

She was wearing a long black dress.  She looked beautiful.  She died in his arms, in that river.

Legolas buried her on the shore of the river.

It destroyed Legolas.  They didn't even have children, although they wanted. Very much.

She just left.

When love must die!

Legolas also considered taking his own life and ending this affliction, but ... he knew Y / N wouldn't want it.  She would never forgive him that.

Life must go on.  And he believed he would meet her again.  There must have been some justice in this world.

Forever is our today...

[arrantsnowdrop]

Informalities - Éomer x reader

Request:  “Eomer x reader fic where the reader is from our world and Eomer listens to the stories the reader says of our world and he thinks that it is a grand place and so when they are finally getting together, Eomer feels kind of insecure cuz he feels he'll never live up to the reader's "standards" and the reader says that they are insecure because he is a prince and she has nothing"

Tags: @thewhiteladyofrohan

Warnings: mention of battles and death, about 2,200 words

A/N: Hoppy Easter lads and lasses, we are back from a many month writing hiatus. Hope y’all enjoy, I’m glad to be here :)

You genuinely had no idea how you’d ended up in Middle Earth.

It was one of those fever dream situations - one moment you were falling asleep in your own bed, and the next you were waking up at the bottom of a tree, surrounded by many bearded and concerned looking men.

Of course you’d been startled and so, so confused, but it had only taken you a few moments to recognize the characters from one of your favorite stories, and then you’d fully accepted your new reality.

By the time you first encountered the fellowship, they had already lost Gandalf at Moria and passed through the realm of Lothlorien. They were traveling in their fancy elvish boats when they’d spotted you from the river. You were extremely grateful for that - who knows what would’ve happened if the Uruk-hai tracking them had found you first.

Boromir and Gimli were quite intimidated by your presence, having been brought up in traditions that designated men for warrior roles. Aragorn and Legolas were much more accepting (female elves were just as badass as any male elf or man, and both of them knew that). The hobbits had all taken an immediate liking to you, and you’d been devastated to lose them during the Uruk ambush. Of course, this only gave you a stronger drive to track them into Rohan with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

It was there that you met Éomer for the first time, after his riders surrounded your small group of assumed invaders.

He was handsome, there was no denying that, and you found his decision to protect Rohan even in exile extremely brave. He’d been startled by your presence (a group including a dwarf, an elf, AND a woman must’ve been an oddity for him), and thus had talked primarily with Aragorn, but you could not shake the way his eyes locked with yours as he offered you his condolences about Merry and Pippin.

You figured you’d never see the handsome blonde again, glumly complaining to Gimli about it several times throughout Rohan.

Thus, you’d been overjoyed when he arrived at the Battle of Helm’s Deep - half because he was saving your asses from almost certain death, and half because you’d get to see his face and hear his voice again.

You followed Aragorn after the battle, searching for Gandalf in the celebrating crowd. It did not take long, with his bright white robes being quite easy to pick out.

“Gandalf!” you screamed gleefully, weaving between the people around you to get to the smiling wizard.

“It is good to see you, (Y/n),” he said as you embraced him.

“Oh, it’s even better to see you,” you said.

“I have to agree with (Y/n),” Aragorn said from behind you. You pulled back, allowing Gandalf time to greet your friend, and quickly caught sight of a familiar face.

He had been laughing with some other men when his gaze fell on you, eyes locking with yours for the second time. You smiled a bit and offered an awkward wave, face flushing as he flashed you a smile.

“Ah, (Y/n), this is Lord Éomer, current heir to the throne of Rohan,” Gandalf said, noticing the two of you staring at each other.

“We’ve met before,” he said, walking towards you

“Indeed we have,” you replied as he stopped just in front of you. “It is a pleasure to meet you, oh-future-king,” you said, bowing a bit.

You could hear Aragorn slap his forehead from behind you and grinned.

“She’s not from around here, so do forgive her manners,” Aragorn said.

“Or lack thereof,” you added, straightening yourself once more and looking at Éomer’s amused face.

“I appreciate the informality,” Éomer grinned. You spun around and pointed at Aragorn.

“See? Someone appreciates me,” you accused.

You were extremely happy to meet Éomer. It’s not that you didn’t adore Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli, but they were also the only people you’d been around for quite a while. It was exciting to make a new friend, especially one so handsome and charismatic.

The two of you spent the entire ride to Isengard delving into each other’s lives, from childhoods to secret fears to favorite foods. Obviously, the two of you had led quite different lives, and he was fascinated by the world you had come from.

“These cars you speak of, are they like horses?” he asked.

“No, they’re much faster,” you replied. “They’re more like a carriage, since they have space for several people inside.”

“But it moves without a horse?”

“Yup!”

“Who steers in then?”

You were grinning ear to ear at the look of bewilderment on his face.

“One of the people inside,” you answered. “There’s a wheel to control which direction you go and pedals on the floor to control the speed.”

“That sounds terribly complicated,” Éomer said, brows furrowing.

“It’s not too bad,” you said, “I was even pretty good at it.”

Éomer shot you an alarmed look.

“You used to steer these...these things?” he asked incredulously. You laughed and nodded. “You have to be taught how to do it,” you explained. “It’s not like they throw you into it without any preparation.”

“It still sounds extremely dangerous,” he decided.

“I did break my arm in a crash once,” you said thoughtfully. He gasped.

“You can crash them?”

Éomer had quickly become one of your favorite people, which only made the continuous battles over the fate of Middle Earth even more stressful. You were terrified he would ride into a fight and never return, and even more terrified of what that meant.

You’d searched for him for hours after the Battle for Minas Tirith, heart growing more and more heavy as you continued. Every person you asked had no idea where he was, and by the time you returned to the White City, your hands were shaking with anxiety. Finding him outside of the makeshift infirmary that had been set up was the most relieving moment of your entire life.

You had gasped the moment you caught sight of his all too familiar golden hair, letting out a desperate sob as his eyes met yours, him rushing over to you and wrapping you in his arms. Your embrace was filled with all the emotions both of you were too terrified to say aloud.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured into his chest, eyes wet and lips trembling.

“It will take far more than a few Oliphaunts to kill me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted nothing more than to tell him in that moment how much you loved him, but decided against it. You knew the fighting was not over, the last thing you needed was for him to be distracted by you during battle and find himself impaled with some pointy object. If you both lived to the end of this, you would tell him then.

But then you were too scared to do it.

Of course you had won - the ring had been destroyed, Aragorn had led the crusade against the forces of Mordor, and Gondor was preparing to crown its long lost king. Everyone was staying in Minas Tirith until the coronation, but then everyone was leaving. All your friends would be heading home, but you did not have one of those here in Middle Earth.

Aragorn had already offered you a place in Gondor’s leadership, and thus a permanent residence with him, and the hobbits were more than happy to escort you back to the Shire with them, but you knew both of these options would separate you from the one person you wanted to be with.

All you wanted was to follow Éomer back to Edoras, but you were unsure if that would be best for him. He was about to be crowned king of Rohan, and probably had many ladies of Rohan’s nobility lined up to rule with him. It was selfish for you to think you had any right to his heart, especially when his duties and responsibilities were so much more important than an outspoken, title-less woman.

So you distanced yourself from him. You avoided him whenever possible, taking the longest routes you could to dinners and meetings. You tried not to be affected by his desperate gaze, or the way he called for you as you rushed out of a room. It hurt you more than anything, but you knew it would be better for him in the long run. You succeeded with your plan until the night before Aragorn’s coronation.

You’d been walking home from dinner (a huge, pre-celebration feast that qualified as a celebration itself) through an old, twisty corridor. You opened the door to your room only to see Eomer sitting on your bed, a worried look on his face.

You jumped slightly, startled by his presence.

“What are you doing in here?” you said breathlessly. “This is totally an invasion of my privacy and absolutely uncalled for at such a late hour, you almost gave me a heart attack-”

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, standing up from the bed, eyes fixated on you. You both stood there in silence for some time, the closest you’d been to each other for the first time in days.

“I missed you,” he murmured finally. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You looked down at your feet and nodded. You did not want to see the look of betrayal that he was undoubtedly wearing.

“Why?” he whispered. You winced at the sound of hurt in his voice.

“You would not understand Éomer, but I promise it was in your best interest,” you replied.

“You are my best friend, (Y/n), how could ignoring me benefit me?” he asked incredulously. You looked up at him, trying to ignore the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“Éomer-”

“Please,” he cut you off desperately, slowly walking towards you. “I have missed you more than you could possibly imagine.” “That is the issue,” you whispered, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him.

“How is that an issue?” he begged.

“Because you are about to be a king,” you shouted, eyes still closed. “And you will leave after tomorrow with everyone else, back to Edoras, where new responsibilities will be awaiting you and demanding your attention.”

“How does that have anything to do with you?” he asked, voice sounding a lot closer than before. You gulped, sensing him right in front of you.

“I would be a distraction,” you replied meekly. Éomer did not reply, but instead reached to grab your hands with his own, you gasping as he pulled you into his chest.

“(Y/n), you are not a distraction, how could you-”

“I do not want you to leave me here,” you interrupted, resting your forehead against him. “I am so scared I’ll never see you again, but your life is about to be so much more important than me.”

“I do not want to leave you here,” he said, wrapping his arms around your back. “I want you to come with me. You’re my best friend, how could I abandon you?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” you whispered, “even if I were physically with you, that would not stop me from...from…”

You stopped and bit your lip, terrified of the confession about to pour out of you. Éomer moved his hand below your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

“Stop you from what?” he whispered intensely, eyes searching your face desperately. You exhaled breathily.

“I love you, Éomer,” you said softly, watching as his expression softened. “So, so much.”

He blinked once, twice, registering what you had just said, and smiled, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you more than anyone, (Y/n),” he murmured.

“But, surely there are women back in Rohan who are far more suitable for-”

“(Y/n),” Éomer said seriously, pulling away to look you in the eyes once more. “I have the power to be with whomever I choose.”

“But why would you choose me?” you asked meekly. Éomer chuckled, brushing a stray bit of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear tenderly. You leaned into his hand slightly, relishing in the way he cupped your face.

“I was more nervous that you wouldn’t choose me,” he admitted. You look at him in confusion.

“How could I not choose you?” you asked.

“You’re much more interesting than I am,” he shrugged. “You come from a world that is so much more exciting than mine, and the last thing I want is for you to settle for me.”

“Éomer, you stab people with swords and ride horses all day. And live in a castle. That is insanely cool,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “Of course I choose you.”

“And I choose you,” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. “Please come home with me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding fervently. “Yes, please.”

Éomer grinned, tilting your face up to his once more and leaning down to kiss you. Your heart leaped, hand reaching up to grab the back of his head to intensify the kiss. He moaned softly, bending down to pick you up and twirling you around. You giggled and pressed your nose against his.

“I’m thinking we make my coronation far less formal than Aragorn’s,” Éomer said, “as much as I’ve been loving these dinners, I don’t think I could stand hosting them.”

“You know I’m fantastic at informalities,” you replied.

[guardianofrivendell]

Gentlemen in Distress (request)

Legolas x reader x Fellowship

Requested: Yes! @galileostyles​ asked “hey i love your writing so much ❤️ could you do a legolas x reader x fellowship where they see you fighting for the first time at the mines of moria and feel bad for underestimating you. thanks ❤️”

Warnings: men being men

A/N: This was harder than I thought! I wrote it a first time last week but then I realized it was too similar to an upcoming chapter of ‘Perfect Secrets’, so I had to delete and start all over again. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I live for comments/reblogs :) 

(I absolutely love this gif. It practically screams testosteron! If I was standing near an Orc at this moment I would take its arm and wound it around my neck myself, and gladly take up the role of damsel in distress. Yes please!)

The fellowship halted before the gates of Moria.  You were relieved to be out of the snow, but dreaded the upcoming journey through Moria. You knew why Gandalf hesitated to go through them, shivering at the thought of what could happen. Legolas’ eyes met yours, but he looked the other way when he saw you staring back. You rolled your eyes, knowing you had to have a serious word with your beloved Elf. 

While Gandalf tried to figure out how to crack the password after two unsuccesful attempts, you made your way towards Legolas. It felt like days since you two spoke to each other.  He didn’t look up when you sat down next to him. You sighed, kicking the sand with the heel of your boot.

“Are you still cross with me?” you asked, already knowing the answer. He pursed his lips, as if he was actually considering it. But then he rose to his feet and went to Aragorn and Sam.  “Guess that’s a yes,” you muttered.  Merry and Pippin let themself drop down at your feet. You heard Gandalf yelling at poor Pippin a few moments before and he still looked a bit shaken.  “Still mad at you?” Merry asked. You nodded. “He has every right to be, my lady,” Boromir interrupted. You didn’t know he had been eavesdropping.  “And why is that?” you asked him. “This journey is no place for a woman. When we fight, we do not have the time to protect you as well. He only wants to keep you safe.” You rolled your eyes again. “How many times do I have to say that I can take care of myself? I know how to fight!” “Training or taking part in a battle is not the same thing. If you were mine, I would have tied you to a chair to make sure you didn’t join us.” “That’s why ‘if’ is the keyword, Boromir,” you reminded him.  

You could hear Frodo shout something, and the doors to Moria finally opened.  Everyone got to their feet and entered the mines.  Legolas made his way up front with Gandalf and Frodo, while you lingered towards the back of the group. If he wanted to ignore you, so be it. You wouldn’t fret about it anymore. He’ll come around eventually. 

The reason of your falling out was quite simple. Legolas had forbidden you to go along on the journey, after you volunteered at the Council of Elrond, following his example. Yes, that’s right. He forbade you. Like you were his property.  Not that he could have convinced you not to go, but you might have listened to reason. But as soon as he said that damned word, your mind was set. You were going, even if that meant you had to end your relationship because of it.  And ever since you left Rivendell with the fellowship, Legolas had given you the cold shoulder. He hardly talked to you and chose to walk alongside everyone but you.  When the Crebain flew over in Eregion, it hadn’t been Legolas who pulled you under the rocks but Aragorn. At that moment you realized he truly was angry at you. What you failed to notice was the worried expression Legolas wore the entire time, cursing himself for not being anywhere near you to pull you to safety. He had thanked Aragorn extensively afterwards. He vowed to himself to never make that mistake again. 

When you entered the mines, you could hear Gimli boasting about his cousin and the hospitality they were about to recieve.  You felt the darkness closing in around you, you really didn’t like this place.  “This is no mine, it’s a tombe!” You heard Boromir exclaim. It was only then you realised the cracking sound beneath your feet wasn’t the sound of branches breaking or gravel. You were literally walking on dead bodies.  Legolas pulled an arrow out of a corpse.  “Goblins!” he hissed. He notched an arrow on his bow and instinctively took a few steps towards you. You were too busy trying to avoid stepping on another dead Dwarf that you didn’t notice.

Boromir yelled something about the Gap of Rohan, but a movement outside of the gates caught your attention. Out of the water came a long tentacle, slowly sliding over the ground towards Frodo. Before you could warn him, it grabbed his leg and dragged him out of the mines.  Sam cried to Aragorn for help, alerting everyone else. They all ran outside and tried to cut off the tentacles with their swords. Boromir had been able to free Frodo, but the giant squidlike creature wasn’t giving up very easily.  “Y/N! Go back inside, take the Hobbits with you!” Aragorn yelled.  Seriously? You were not a babysitter! Why did they have such a hard time believing you could hold your own? Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir kept slicing the tentacles, but the creature didn’t back off. Legolas shot arrow after arrow, to no avail. They needed help. “Quick, give me a sword or a dagger, anything!” you yelled, eager to join the fight. “No!” Legolas yelled, shooting an arrow in the squid’s left eye. “Go back into the mines!” “Oh, now you can talk to me!” You felt someone grab your arm, trying to pull you back. You shook them off before you turned around and saw it was Merry, immediately swallowing the insult that had been on your tongue. “Into the mines, hurry!” Gandalf shouted, when he realised this was a fight they could not win. You followed the others back into the mine, barely escaping the falling rocks when the entrance collapsed. 

*

After a few days of walking through Moria, you had reached the Chamber of Mazarbul.  Legolas still wasn’t talking to you, now upset you hadn’t listened to him with the squid situation, but you knew he was going to give in at any moment. You had caught him staring multiple times, his hands twitching to take yours when you walked next to each other.  Gimli cried over the loss of Balin. You placed your hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. He gave you a grateful nod.  You heard Gandalf reading aloud from a book he’d found, and the words he spoke made your hairs stand up.  A sudden clang sounded through the chamber, and you saw Pippin standing by a well. He had managed to knock the head off a corpse, and the body of the fallen warrior followed seconds later. Gandalf shouted at him for being so careless. “Don’t worry Pippin, he’s under a lot of stress. He doesn’t mean it,” you tried to ease the tension between them. But then the drumbeats had started…  “Orcs!” Boromir and Aragorn ran to the door and barricaded it with anything they could find on the ground.  “They have a cave troll,” Boromir laughed sarcastically. 

“Y/N! Take the Hobbits and go to the back of the chamber! Stay behind Gandalf!” Aragorn shouted. “No! I want to fight! You can use my help,” you yelled angrily. You weren’t going to stand helpless at the sidelines again. Not this time. “Meleth nin,” Legolas spoke to you, his jaw clenched. “Could you please listen to us for once? I only want to keep you safe!” He cupped your face with his hands, and kissed your lips. “I could not live with myself if you got hurt.” The Orcs started to hack through the heavy wooden doors with their axes.  “Go!” he growled at you, and you were so surprised at his reaction that you obeyed. 

You had gathered the Hobbits and hidden yourself on the second level, behind the pillars to keep you out of sight.  The men had no problem with the Orcs, slaying every single one who crossed the wooden doors. But then a loud growl resounded through the chamber, and the cave troll entered, shattering the remains of the door with his mace. A curse escaped you, this was entirely different than fighting against Orcs. The troll immediately made its way to Legolas. The skin was too thick, Legolas’ arrows bounced off of it.  He barely avoided a hit with the mace, and you started to get worried. 

Suddenly the troll spotted you and the Hobbits, and with a screech he ran towards you.  It swung its mace and you grabbed Frodo, yelling at the other Hobbits to go the other way, hoping it would chase you to keep them safe.  Aragorn and Boromir took the chain hanging from its neck and pulled at it with all their might, trying to distract it and buy you and Frodo some time to get yourselves to safety. Legolas and Gimli were too busy with the remaining Orcs. The troll swung its mace at them, and with one powerful blow he threw Boromir across the room into the wall. He landed with a thump on the ground, unconscious.  “No!” you screamed, which caught the creature’s attention. He charged at you again, and you shoved Frodo behind you.  The troll roared in pain when Aragorn threw a spear at him, piercing his back. Aragorn soon suffered the same fate as Boromir. Your eyes went to Boromir, who was slowly regaining his consciousness, to Legolas who was shooting arrows at the troll again in the hope to find a weak spot, and back to Aragorn, who lay lifeless on the ground. They were losing this battle… You couldn’t stay there and do nothing! Even Sam was fighting against the last Orcs with his frying pan of all things, but it was effective. They only had to find a way to defeat the cavetroll. And you knew how.

“Stay here!” you said to Frodo, shoving him in the corner. You jumped of the landing and took two Orc swords from the ground. “Y/N, no!” Legolas cried at you. But you already listened once today, and that was more than enough. You ran around the troll, hacking your swords in its legs. It cried out in pain, and was now really pissed off at you.  “Y/N, Lassie, leave this to us!” Gimli shouted.  “Yes, because you’re doing so great!” you yelled back. The troll swung at you with its mace, and it smacked to the ground right in front of you. Perfect timing, you thought and you jumped on top of it, and nimbly ran up his arm towards his shoulder. It tried to smack you off of him, but you were faster, slicing his shoulder and upper back.  You sat down, and swung your arms around his neck, effectively slicing his throat with both swords. The troll made a gargling sound and fell face forward to the ground. You jumped off his back, twirling the swords in a cocky way.

The whole fellowship looked at you in surprise.  “That was amazing!” Merry and Pippin yelled at you, engulfing you in a hug. “Excellent fighting skills!” Boromir complimented. “I’m sorry we doubted you.” The others couldn’t agree more. Legolas however stayed silent. “Are you okay?” you asked him. He scoffed. “You’re asking me if I’m okay? No, Y/N. I’m not! You didn’t listen and put yourself in danger. I had a dozen heart attacks while you fought that troll!” You stared at the ground. He lifted your chin with his hand, and he pressed his lips against yours. “But you have proven to me that you can stand your ground.” You smiled at that. “Does that mean I can have one of your swords?” “Absolutely not!”

A/N: I’m still not that good with endings, but you get the idea! 

[entishramblings]

It’s Not That Bad [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: I’m so sorry I have not been writing as often. I’ve had zero time. But anyWaYS...here is a fic that has been requested by someone who has always been into my writing so thank you for supporting me and here is a fic for you! Additionally, I did some research on herbs and stuff so I could make this at least a little accurate!

Request: @quilledinkpen — Hellooo i hope you're having a good day ^-^ I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader? Something like she's travelling with the fellowship and is kinda the unspoken "mom" of the group, like she's always doing her best to make sure everyone's safe, and reminding Pippin and Merry to be careful and stuff like that. Just an all-around motherly person lol (mainly to the Hobbits bc they're her babies but she looks after the other guys too) I think it'd be cute ^^ Thank you!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N), a healer, travels with the fellowship. She takes care of everyone and is basically “the mom friend.”

Word Count: 2, 510

Warnings: battle wounds that are kinda graphicish?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N) was a well known healer throughout all of Arda. Many traveled to her for treatment for life threatening ailments. But now, now it was her time to travel throughout the lands of Middle Earth in search of a salvation for all. A gruesome quest to destroy the evil ring of power had begun and someone well versed in natural apothecary was needed. (Y/N), of course, volunteered for this role for there was no one better suited than her. Besides, it was her duty to contribute to the survival of this world as she was one in it and relied heavily on what the earth produced. And if Sauron was to rule.....well, we all know where that would lead: no earth, no life, just darkness.

(Y/N) ruffled through her dark-brown leather satchel as she sifted through her healing herbs. Little pouches filled with athelas leaves, echinacea stalks, alder bark, valerian roots, and more piled inside the confinements of the fabric.

“Sam,” She called out. “Would you mind making hot tea for Frodo while I take care of Strider’s cut?”

The little hobbit ran over instantly and she passed him a couple pouches naming each one out loud, “Valerian root, dried chamomile pedals, and sycamore bark.” She then lowered her voice and leaned it, for it wasn’t anyone else’s business to hear. “It will help him sleep and deter the anxieties the ring bestows upon him.”

Sam nodded quickly and set to work as (Y/N) moved towards Aragorn who sat upon a large rock.

“Let me have a look.”

The dunedain rolled his eyes, “(Y/N), it is not that bad. Just a scratch.”

The young women sighed in annoyance and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a slash across his bicep. He was right—to an extent—it wasn’t terrible. He would not need stitches. However, it did need to be cleaned and wrapped for infections were nasty things.

(Y/N) started by pouring some alcohol over the wound; receiving a harsh hiss from the dunedain in response. She muttered a quick apology before continuing. The young woman ground athelas leaves into a fine paste and expertly smeared it onto the cut. She then unrolled gauze and placed it upon the wound. Lastly, she pulled white dressings from her satchel. She gingerly wrapped it around his arm, yet she was careful to still pull it taught as the goal was to keep the athelas paste in and bacteria out.

She stood up and brushed her hands off before placing them firmly on her hips. “See Strider, it takes only a couple minute.”

He grumbled at her comment but thanked her for the medical attention.

(Y/N) nodded quickly and went to check on the rest of the fellowship. She made her way to Boromir who was also sitting in rest. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Boromir, how are you doing? Any wounds?”

He seemed slightly startled at first for his mind had been elsewhere, but he looked up at her with a soft smile.

“I’m quite alright, My Lady.”

A light chuckled escaped her lips. “My friend, how many times must I tell you? It’s (Y/N), no lady of any sorts!”

He shook his head and grinned at her, “Well, my lady, I am doing quite fine.”

She let her eyes circle into the back of her head as the corner of her lip pulled into a smirk.

The healer turned and made her way to Gimli who was sharpening his axe.

“Gimli, I trust you are alright as I see you are already preparing for the next battle even though we just endured one.”

His gruff voice answered immediately, “Aye lassie! Those orcs can’t ensnare a dwarf that easily!!”

She laughed at his comment as Merry and Pippin came rushing up to her. As soon as she saw their faces she knew that the two mischievous hobbits wanted to claim her attention. She lowered herself down to their height as they flung themselves into her arms.

“Ahh my two hobbits! How did you fare in the battle?”

They pulled from her hug and began speaking at the same time.

“It was intensely scary but we were fierce!”

“Merry had hit one with a tree branch! It was quite magnificent!”

“Yes it was, I would have to admit! And Pip tripped another and he fell flat on his face!”

(Y/N) beamed at the two and giggled at their attempt to tell the story. As much as she was focused on caring for everyone, the hobbits cared for her—in another way that is. The four of them brought joy to her heart and glee to her spirit. Their innocence and appreciation of the simplest things brought happiness to her soul. They had offered her a welcomed visit to the shire at any time; telling her of the grand tour they would take her on. She had grown to look upon them as children for their smallness and way of perceiving life was similar so.

The two scampered off quickly, most likely to share their adrenaline filled story with Boromir, while (Y/N) did a final scan of the fellowship.

Her eyes soon rested on the elf. Legolas was off to a distance standing upon the rocky tundra. Something about his posture made her frown. His back was to her and his head seemed bowed, as if he was looking down at something. Furthermore, his one arm was pulled up at an awkward angle—strange, even for the elf. As the healer that she was, she was compelled to check on him.

(Y/N) weaved through the rocks until she was only a short distance from him.

“Legolas?” She questioned softly.

He immediately whipped around. His shirt fell to cover his form, but not before (Y/N) caught a glimpse of bright purple, red, and black. The young woman’s lips instantly parted in shock. She had seen many wounds in her life, on many people of many different races. However, it was not often that she had an elven patient with a wound like that. To state it simply, (Y/N) was worried—that looked bad, very bad. Legolas on the other hand was only flustered for he, an elf, had gotten snuck up on. He did not have great concern for the injury given that there were far more important things to worry about.

“Legolas,” (Y/N) stated firmly. “Lift your shirt.”

He sighed, “(Y/N), it’s not—“

She interrupted him, “Let me guess, ‘It’s not that bad?’” She shook her head, “You and Strider.”

She stepped forward and took the hem of his shirt in her hand. She cautiously lifted the fabric, not caring about the socially deemed scandalousness of the action—she was a healer after all.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath. A relatively large bruise stretched across his torso with a sizable cut in the center of it.

“By the Valar, Legolas!” She exclaimed with exasperation. “You should have come to me straight away!”

“(YN)—“

She cut him off again, “No. don’t ‘(Y/N)’ me. This is serious. It could be internal bleeding. I don’t care that you are an immortal elf, you can still die from this.”

The healer gently let her fingertips brush against his skin, tracing and examining the injury. He winced in pain at the contact and that did not escape (Y/N)’s attention.

“How did this happen exactly? I need every detail.”

Legolas groaned again when she grazed over the cut; and when he spoke it was with heavy breaths, “A harsh kick to the side into another orc....” (Y/N) hand pressed on the bleeding laceration and he hissed in pain before continuing to speak. “...who—who slashed downward.....with a jagged-edged blade that had a—a curved tip.

(Y/N) looked up at him with concern, his breathing was getting labored and that was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

“Alright, come on.” She ordered. The young woman practically dragged the reluctant elf back towards the group and pushed him down on a rock.

She knelt in front of him and, once again, ruffled through her satchel.

“Take your tunic off,” she commanded while pulling out various pouches and gauze dressings.

(Y/N) could feel all of the fellowships’ gazes on the two, which only intensified when Legolas removed his tunic. She could hear the hobbit’s hushed whispers and concerned tones for the wound was gruesome and ugly—probably the worst they have ever seen considering their simple lives.

Once she had all her supplies ready, she set to work.

(Y/N) was kneeling in-between Legolas’s legs while she studied the torn up, bloody, and bruised fresh for yet another time; it was imperative that she made a plan before starting.

During this examination, the young woman could not help but let her eyes wander across his chest and rippling muscles. The bends and curves of his form looked perfect against his pale complexion. He was incredibly toned and well built, even more so than humans. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him.

Additionally, battle scars of various shapes and sizes littered his body—which was expected given he was over 2,000 years old. Here, she took a moment to study them for if one really looked at a warriors scars their fighting style would be revealed. Many stretched across his being—specifically on his ribcage, sides, pecs, and abs—it was clear that he was way more reckless than he would like people to think. He was fast with his moves, going for the quickest way to an oppenent’s death, but that often left him exposed. No wonder he ended up with this terrible bruising gash. He lived up to the Mirkwood elf expectation—less wise and more fierce.

As (Y/N) realized that her mind had wandered too far off task, she cleared her throat and reached for the flask of liquor.

“This will sting,” she stated before pouring it over the broken flesh. As expected, a loud groan escaped his lips and his fists clenched around nothingness.

Carefully she dabbed the area with a cloth. (Y/N) then threaded a needle and began to sew his skin back together. The elf was stiff as he clenched his jaw and flexed his muscles—a natural reflex in this kind of situation. She continued to pull his skin taught so their was no more breakthrough bleeding. It seemed that he had gotten used to the sensation as she went given he began to relax. Next, she made a paste for the wound, much like Strider’s. However, she decided to use more than athelas leaves because this cut was more severe than the Ranger’s. (Y/N) ground up echinacea stalks and mixed in alder bark to soothe inflammation and fight infection. Gently she applied the blended mixture into his torso. Lastly, she wound gauze and dressings around his midsection in order to keep everything in place.

Much time had past given stitches took long; luckily, the fellowships’ concerned glances faded.

(Y/N) stood up from her position and it was then when she released just how close the two were. She stood between his legs, their faces inches apart. If it was anyone else, she wouldn’t have cared for she often had to be in such proximities with others as she was a healer. But this wasn’t anyone else, it was him.

“You—you should be fine now,” (Y/N) whispered. She cleared her throat and stepped backwards. “I will have to check on it every day and redo the bandages. And I advise you: no sudden movements, and no lifting heavy objects—like the hobbits.”

Legolas cracked a smile at that last comment. “Thank you, (Y/N). I truly appreciate your skill.”

“That is what I’m here for, is it not?” She adverted her eyes and kept her hands busy by gathering her supplies for she feared her expression would betray her.

Legolas put his tunic back on as he spoke, “I suppose it is, but nethertheless I thank you.”

......

As the days went on she continued to check Legolas’s wound. (Y/N) tried to make it more private by dragging him off to the side or away from the group, given that she suspected it was uncomfortable for him to undress everyday in front of inquiring eyes (aka the hobbits).

It was dusk when she crouched down to examine it once again.

“It is healing nicely,” She said. “A lot faster than I suspected, but I suppose that is because you are elven.” Her nervousness caused her to continue speaking when she did not wish to do so. “I mainly treat men....and dwarves. It is not often that I have a wounded elf at my door. Do you know an elf named Feren? I recall he said he was of Mirkwood Kin. I treated him once years ago for a busted leg when he strayed into northern territories.”

A small smirk crossed Legolas’s face, “Ahh so you are the beautiful healer who patched him up so well?”

(Y/N) felt heat creep up her face, “I—I would not say that—“

“Nonsense! He spoke of your beauty and skill many times, and he was not mistaken. I am just surprised that I have been lucky enough to gaze upon you and have you heal me.”

These words made (Y/N)’s gauze wrapping motions falter. “It—it is my job, Legolas.”

“Yet you go beyond your assignment and duty everyday. I see how you take care of us all, especially the hobbits. You truly have a noble heart.”

(Y/N) smiled softly and spoke in a teasing tone, “Well I suppose you are right—all you boys would be lost without me.”

A deep chuckled hummed in Legolas’s chest and the healer joined in with a bright laugh.

The giggles settled soon enough and Legolas spoke, his sentence quite abrupt. “How would you feel about coming to Mirkwood and living there as a healer once the ring is destroyed?”

Shocked, (Y/N) stuttered. “I—I am unsure. I don’t know if—“

“(Y/N)...” He interrupted. “I do not wish for the end of this journey to be the end of our acquaintance.”

The young woman looked down, “As I agree, but—“

“(Y/N),” he whispered.

Something about his tone made her freeze.

Ever so gently, he lifted her chin to force her to look at him. His voice was quiet as he spoke, “I—I don’t think you understand what I am trying to convey.”

Oh....

Now she understood.

The healer glanced at his lips which hovered near her own before biting her bottom one and locking gazes with him. Legolas of course noticed this and waisted no time. He pressed his mouth against hers and she instantly responded. Her hands slid up his bare chest, careful to avoid the wound on his torso, and then tangled themselves in his blonde locks. His muscular arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he focused on the taste of mint tea and fresh honey. The two moved their lips in sync and the world around them melted away. Suddenly, there was no quest, no fellowship, no responsibilities—only the two of them and the thudding of their hearts.

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @wellfuckmyexistence

Legolas tag: @dark-angel-is-back

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[xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx]

Love Returned

Legolas x fem!reader

Summary: Some cute and fluffy Legolas and baby bunnies for your quarantine anniversary woes.

Authors Note: Life decided to throw me a few curveballs, but I’m back on track now! I will try to make a schedule for writing, but actually sticking to it is a completely different ordeal. Enjoy!

Translations:

•Meleth nin-My love

__________________________________________

After a long day of walking with the fellowship, Aragorn finally decided to stop and set up camp. As soon as you entered the clearing, you threw your pack down and stretched out on the soft grass.

“Finally,” you sighed. The fellowship had walked for many hours, and your feet were killing you. It was not often you could take a moment for yourself, and you wished to take advantage of this stop. However, your rest was short lived when Aragorn walked over and nudged your foot with his.

“(Y/N), would you mind collecting firewood for tonight?” He asked politely, as Aragorn always does, yet you knew you didn’t really have a choice. Traveling through the wilds, everyone had to do their part. Getting up and internally groaning, you nodded to Aragorn and made way for the tree line.

It was difficult finding good fuel for the fire. The spring rains making the sticks and leaves on the outskirts of the forest too damp to be used. To find anything useable, you would have to walk deeper and deeper into the forest where the trees would shield the ground below. Trying to find dry wood and kindling, you came across a small clearing. Your eyes widened and you let out an excited gasp when you laid your eyes upon half a dozen little bunnies playing in the meadow. Setting down the sticks you had gathered, you slowly began to approach the bunnies not wanting to startle them. You took a seat in the center of the meadow. Soon, one of the little beasties approached.

“Hey there, little guy,” you said, slowly extending your hand towards him. The rabbit twitched his nose and gave you a few sniffs. Deciding you were okay, he took a few hops closer and nuzzled into your hand. “Aw, you’re so friendly,” you cooed. You picked up the small animal and started stroking his soft, brown fur. You always had a soft spot for animals, and this was the just the comfort you needed to distract you from your perilous journey.

Back at camp, a certain elf was beginning to panic at your absence. First you had been gone for 10 minutes. Then 15. Then 20. Legolas was starting to get fidgety, and the others began to notice.

“Legolas, is something wrong?” Boromir inquired as he sharpened his sword.

“Well, don’t you think it’s odd (Y/N) has been gone for so long?” During your time together in the fellowship, Legolas found himself growing quite fond of you. He knew it was foolish falling in love while on such a quest, but he could not help for whom his heart yearned. Despite being a hardened warrior, you had such a soft and gentle grace when you wanted to. Legolas could not recall ever meeting anyone that piqued his interest so much as you.

“It hasn’t been unusually long. Finding kindling that is dry enough to use is next to impossible right now,” Boromir replied.

“I’m sure they are fine, my friend,” Aragorn placed a reassuring hand on Legolas’ shoulder and gave him a knowing smile. Aragorn was the only one to know of his feelings and understood his concern.

“Traveling alone has become increasingly dangerous, Aragorn. The spies of Saruman wait around every corner, hoping to catch one of us off guard,” Legolas worried.

Aragorn thought over what he said. He gestured to the direction that you had taken into the woods,”If it will ease your mind, I suggest you go find her. She can’t have gotten far.” Legolas turned to leave. “And maybe you could finally tell her how you feel,” Aragorn teased quietly. A light pink began dusting Legolas’ face and he hurried off in your direction.

You had been playing with and holding each of the baby bunnies. Having so much fun, you lost track of the time. You didn’t realize just how long it had been until someone called for you on the other side of the meadow.

“(Y/N)?” Looking up and seeing Legolas you jumped. You hadn’t expected anyone to find you having such a soft moment out here in the woods.

“Oh um, hello, Legolas,” you stuttered. You would be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely crushing on the elf. He came over and sat next to you, unsure of what to say.

“I was worried about you,” he started.

“Oh,” you blushed. “I’m sorry. I was...distracted.” You felt embarrassed now. “I guess it’s pretty childish for me to have been playing with bunnies when I should have been collecting firewood.”

Legolas couldn’t help but smile at your sudden shyness. “Please, don’t be. I think it’s quite cute that you like them.” Now you were both feeling bashful.

“Oh, I-um, thank you.” You looked up at the sky which was starting to turn to beautiful shades of orange and pink. “We should get back. Aragorns going to kill me for taking so long,” you joked. Legolas stood and offered a hand to help you up. Even once you were standing, he was hesitant to let go. You reached the abandoned pile of wood, and together began picking up the sticks and kindling. Your hand brushed against his and Legolas paused. You noticed him shake his head before he continued.

“Legolas?” You asked.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course! Why do you ask?” He stammered out.

“Well, it looked like you thought of something, but decided against it.” You noticed his eyes widened and he looked panicked. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You straightened up and started walking with your pile of sticks and kindling in arm. Before you could take more than three steps, Legolas grabbed your hand.

“Please, I-I’ll explain. I’ve been putting this off for too long.” Intrigued, you turned back to face him. You cocked your head as if to say ‘carry on’. “(Y/N), during these long months we have traveled together, you have captured both my heart and soul,” he started. “I realize that now is not the best time to confess such feelings, so I understand if you do not feel the same.”

Nothing could have caught you more off guard. You had only entertained the idea of Legolas possibly liking you back. Not in a million years did you think he would actually be the one confessing to you. Now, he had and all you could do was stand there, unable to get a single word out.

Legolas began to grow panicked at your silence. The surprised look on your face did not help to calm his anxiety. He started to let go of your hand and turned to leave before you took both of his hands in yours.

“Forgive me for my silence, Legolas. I am not so great with words, but know your affections are returned.” The look of happiness and relief upon his face warmed your heart. You brought his hands to your lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “I was unsure of whether my feelings were mutual or not, but knowing they are brings me great joy.”

Legolas stepped closer to you and placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “I am glad meleth nin.” He looked towards the sky which was growing increasingly dark. “Now, we should really return to camp or we’ll both be recieving an earful from Aragorn.”

“Hm, I suppose,” you giggled.

The two of you returned to camp hand-in-hand and received many looks from the fellowship that night. Everyone kept quiet, but you knew there would be questions in the morning. For now, you would enjoy the peace and sitting close by Legolas’ side.

[danihow]

Flower love

Legolas x human!reader

Lord of the rings

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: While crossing through the forest, our dear Y/N decided to help Legolas to braid his hair back.

Warnings: Fluff, that’s it. 

A/N: I actually thought of this after learning the meaning of some flowers. Im so sorry ittook me a month to finish this and I’m not even please with it.

The sun was half an hour away to be hidden by the tall mountains that surrounded the valley when Frodo and Aragorn came to the agreement of staying the night in a forest opening near a stream.

The girl nodded with a little smile just before leaving the bag she helped Sam carry beside an oak near them. She could still feel her back tense after carrying a hobbit for what seemed like hours while crossing some really high grass a couple of days before, when horses were not available to use. Those little men could be short but all the food they could eat a day really weighted on them.

Then, she looked at her surroundings, her gaze danced over the men who she shared her everyday with for the last couple of months, her gaze went from the four hobbits that gathered in a small circle talking over what should Sam cook for supper before going to sleep, Frodo being the center of the debate that Sam was arbitrating. Next to them, sat against the log of probably the eldest oak in the bunch that circled the fellowship was Boromir, his long legs stretched in front of him while his head was abutting the log, a small smile spread on his relaxed face as he overheard the hobbits’ chatter, almost closed eyes staring at nothing but a yellow hyacinth a few feet from him. 

Then, she spotted Gimli arguing with Legolas for who may take the second best place near the fireplace Aragorn was building up, the woman could see how Gimli scrunched his nose in disgust when seeing the other option perfectly placed near the fire was over some wet mud, mentally determining himself to win over the elf, who looked with a playful smirk at the dwarf getting angrier, even Frodo knew that the elf was bothering the dwarf for mere fun, he did not need a fire to keep him warm.

Lastly, there was Gandalf, sitting with his pipe in what seemed to be the perfect place, not too close yet no too far, a place where he could watch over each member of the fellowship during what was left of the evening without getting cold.

“Who’s turn it is to check the surroundings?” Frodo asked once their little gathering agreed with Sam to prepare some rabbit soup.

“It is mine.” The lady told she took her bow and quiver from her champagne horse and he nodded, looking up from the fireplace as he finished. 

“Be careful young Y/N, this woods are not to be trusted.” Gandalf warned in his wise voice, looking at the young woman with kindness, receiving the same smile back as she waited for Aragorn’s permission to leave.

“Be back before the sun is out, if not, Legolas will go and search for you.” The ranger said without looking at her, knowing well she was more than capable of handling any inconvenience by herself.

“Of course I will be back before darkness arrives, there will be no need to search for me.” She told with a smirk just before leaving the little safe place they have established themselves for the night.

With light steps she jogged through the woods, taking in the smell of wet dirt mixing up with some wild flowers, probably some dragon flowers. Her warm eyes wandered in between trees and looked up the branches, noticing hints of the bronze highlights making their way throughout the branches, giving the woods a special feeling. The thin golden brims of light could be seen shining down to the ground covered in either moss or clovers.

Her cheeks caught the whisper of nature that summer was in its way in the warm breeze that blew around as her ears could catch a distant chirping, oh, how much did she wished to have the hearing of an elf to listen better to the beautiful melodies birds gifted in this season.

Time went by as she enjoyed the peace the woods carried as her eye caught nothing irregular that deserved extraordinary attention. Now, in a slower pace she walked alone to the opening just when the sun finally sat below the horizon and nothing but darkness could be seen, taking her time to arrive as she spotted the warm light of the fire not too far from her.

“Just in time, young Y/N. We were about to search for you.” The old wizard muttered at her returning with the pipe placed in between his lips. Making her notice how the silver-haired elf left his own bow aside and sat back down in the place he was before, it appeared the elf have granted the log to Gimli since the dwarf was proudly sat on it at the contrary side of the fireplace. 

“There are no signs of orcs in the near paths, they seem not to like these ways.” As the words fell from her mouth relief seemed to take over the hobbits a bit once she finally took off her quiver and bow and placed it near where her loyal horse, Dagros, rested. 

With much grace a human could have, she sat in the free place next to Legolas, reaching for a little notebook she kept in a little bag attached to her cloak

“Miss Y/N.” Pippin called, getting the woman and the elf’s attention. “What is that notebook you write in each night?” The curiosity in his voice make her chuckle as Merry elbowed him in the ribs.

“Pip, you cannot ask people things like that.” He scolded with a frown in his features.

“It is okay Merry.” She smiled warmly at them as Pip smile got back to his face in pride as he did not actual wrong. “Well, Pip, I just like to write what happens each day so when I get old, I can read and remind it in case I ever forgot any of the crazy things we do now. Is like a journal.” She said, opening the notebook to a random page, just to find a sketch of the mountains and a dry blue flower, which she carefully took in between her fingers. “I also keep the flowers we recollect, so I can frame them and treasure them in some years as I do now.” And with that, she had gained the attention of the four hobbits, who stared at the blue poppy and the acacia blossom the elf at her side had collected for her around a week ago.

“That is an amazing idea, Miss Y/N.” Samwise spoke as he stirred the rabbit soup he had in the fire and Frodo nodded by his side, staring directly to the soup with hunger.

Then, everyone returned to their usual chatter, Merry and Pippin chattering their mischievous plans someone should worry about later, Frodo talked with Sam as he cooked, Aragorn seemed to be talking with Gandalf in their own voice level, Boromir was resting with his eyes closed for some minutes as the dwarf sharpened his axe a few feet away with total concentration; the elf, sat at the other side of the fireplace, looked at the orange flames without attention while his ears searched for any strange sound near them and the woman by his side scribbled something in her notebook, knowing that the elf would not betray her trust and look over the pages she transcribed her life in.

Minutes passed by and the elf bit his inner cheek, his hand playing with some flowers he found earlier and kept in his pocket. “Y/N.” He called to get her attention, once her gaze was placed on his and he got a kind smile, he talked. “I found these near the stream before sunset, thought you would like them.”

His hand grabbed the flowers and revealed to her two pink peonies just blooming, one smaller than the other one but still with a far more vivid pink tainting her petals. “Legolas, thank you, they are beautiful.” Her delicate hands grabbed the flowers from his, touching for enough seconds to make his heart twirl in his chest with joy.

A few feet away, the wizard and the ranger looked the scene with a little smile on their own, knowing farewell what the elf was doing and how oblivious they both were to it in their own minds.

“I will keep them as long as I can.” Her words were sweet and warm, making his chest warm at her as she placed the flowers in between the two pages she wrote in a few moments ago. “I have not seen these type of peonies in a long time, back home we only grew tree peonies.” Her smile may not have been wide, but in her smallness all Legolas saw was comfort and happiness, making himself happy.

He smiled at her one more time and guided his gaze to the fire in front of him, losing itself in there. Gears in his head started to spin, taking himself down memory lane for some long minutes. Thinking about everything and nothing, like the trip they had ahead, the woods and its creatures, thinking about the fellowship and more; then, he started to remember, all kind of memories striking their own way back in his mind, the last months, his mother and father, anything his mind could get access into, he remembered.

“Legolas.” A distant voice talked to him, but he was still lost in his mind.

“Legolas?” A voice and a squeeze in his forearm took him out of his own mind, looking up he found Sam with a bowl of soup standing in front of him with a concerned look on his face, the elf, concerned by himself on what was happening look to his side to find Y/N with the same concerned look in her facial features while one of her hands slowly let go of his arm. “Sam is asking if you want a bowl of the soup, its rabbit.” Her words were slow for him to understand why they were calling him. 

“Oh, sure, thank you.” With a small nod the bowl was taken out of Sam little hands into Legolas’, careful to not spill any food in the ground. Once Samwise had walked away to serve Aragorn’s and Gandalf’s soup, the pair sat in silence, enjoying quietly their own soup.

“What has you so troubled? If I may ask.” Her voice asked in a mutter some moments later. There was no way in the world she had not noticed how he was lost in his own thought to the point his keened ears were shut from the world, something not so typical in any elf.

“Nothing, lady Y/N, just some memories from the past.” He answers, leaving the empty bowl of soup aside as looking at her, finally noticing the bits of worry in her eyes. “Seriously, there is no need to worry Y/N.”

“I cannot help but to when you wear such a look on your face Legolas. It almost depresses me too.” The young woman joked with a knowing smile on her face. “But is okay you don’t want to tell, just let me know if I can help.” She muttered, making the elf smile at her, how could she be so sweet?

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said with the sincerest smile he could give her. 

“And what happened to your hair?” She asked, just now noticing how the braids he wore were more undone than done.

"The orcs in the morning probably messed it up.” He mutters while his hands passed over the thin braids on the side of his head, remembering how in the last village they visited the woman in front of him braided a bunch of young girls’ hair. “Would you like to braid them for me?”

“Are you sure you want me to?” Her voice was pure concern, she knew about the traditions of the elves and the dwarves, she knew what the hair meant to them. “Is not that I don’t want to, I do, is just... I mean- It is your hair what we are talking about and I am... me.” She tried to make him understand her point because of her fear of disrespecting other culture, yet, deep inside she yearned to braid his hair for a long time now.

“I know you are you.” He chuckled, reassuring her. “And that is why I am sure, do not worry about that.” He nodded in her direction and make himself comfortable in the ground in front of the log they were sitting in, right in between her legs so she could have it easier. “You said you would want to help me how you could, believe this would help me a lot. You can braid whatever you want in there.”

“Alright, if you say so.” She whispered, untangling his soft blonde hair with her fingers, it felt even better than silk or velvet. Soon, she started braiding his hair, taking two thin braids from each side of his face to the back of his head, forming a big braid in the middle with both of them and tying it. Then, with her delicate fingers she soothed the hair that was left down, smiling to herself as the soft strands of his hair ran through her fingers with such ease. Through the process, the elf whose hair was being braided was smiling wide as he felt her fingers brush again his hair and in some occasions, against his ears, causing him goosebumps. 

Meanwhile, both Aragorn and Gandalf stared at the scene with a small smile in their faces, both of them could see at bare sight the special bond the elf and the human had together now and the eldest could predict how it would evolve in both of them, still, that was not ought to be said now.

“And... I’m done.” She muttered once she fully finished, making the elf to raise his hand and carefully touch the braids. 

“Thank you so much, I love them.” He said, getting up from the ground to sit back again in the log. 

“Next time an orc messes up your hair, make sure to pick up more flowers so I can braid them in your hair, maybe some more acacia blossoms.” She smiled while a blush covered her cheeks as he turned to face her.

And while the woman played with the pages of her notebook and the new peonies inside, rethinking if the braids and flowers meant what she thought they could mean; the elf smiled back with gratefulness as he may or may not try in a future to mess his hair more if it meant she would be the one braiding it. And then maybe, just maybe he could ask to court her.  

Yellow hyacinth: Jealousy.  Dragon flowers: Grace, strenght.  Blue poppies: Oblivion, imagination. Acacia blossoms: Concealed and chaste love Pink peonies: Romance, love at first sight.