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earthlybeam · 12 days ago

Note

Would you mind writing Haldir and Legolas being saved from captivity in the same vein as the Elrond, Círdan, and Gil-Galad piece you wrote? Maybe being rescued by their significant others though? Up the stakes a bit 😏

I absolutely loved those, and I would love to know how you think those two would react to that situation!

Thank you so much in advance! I absolutely adore your writing. I always know I can coped your blog and find something that will brighten my day

Thank you so much for your kind words! 😭❤️‍🔥I’m so glad that my writing brings some brightness to your day. 🥺🙌 It means a lot to hear that, and I’m always here to share more whenever you need it. If there’s anything you’d love to read or talk about, just let me know! ❤️‍🔥🫶✨

how would the elves react to this?

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Haldir, Legolas Version below (you are their lover)

🏹𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓻

Haldir might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.

The forest was dark, the shadows of the trees stretching long and ominous under the pale sliver of moonlight. The air was damp with the scent of moss and earth, and the stillness was broken only by the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Somewhere deep within these woods, Haldir of Lórien was fighting for his life. The ambush had come without warning. Orcs, hidden beneath the veil of the night, had swarmed his patrol. Though he fought valiantly, his skill with the bow and blade unmatched, the sheer number of his foes proved overwhelming. Haldir’s heart burned with frustration as he swung his sword with precision, but even he, the Marchwarden of Lórien, could not hold them off alone. His brothers had been separated from him in the chaos, and he now found himself surrounded. A sharp blow to his side sent him crashing to the forest floor. The impact jarred his body, his head snapping to the side as pain lanced through his ribs. His sword was knocked from his hand, clattering uselessly beyond his reach. Haldir’s breath hitched, coming shallow and fast, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm he couldn’t control. The metallic taste of blood tinged his mouth, and for the first time in countless battles, doubt crept into his mind.

Above him, the Orcs loomed, their guttural laughter cutting through the silence of the forest like jagged blades. One of them sneered as it gripped his shoulder and pinned him down with brute force, its claws biting through the fabric of his tunic. Haldir’s muscles burned as he fought against the iron grip, his pride flaring hot despite the pain that seared through him. His silver-grey eyes burned with defiance, daring his enemy to see him as anything less than the Marchwarden he was. Yet even as his body tensed with effort, even as his mind worked furiously to find a way out, his heart began to sink beneath the weight of the inevitable. He was not afraid of death. That fear had long been banished, tempered by centuries of duty and the understanding that every life in service of Lórien was one spent in honor. But tonight… tonight, the thought of leaving his home unprotected, his brothers unguarded, and you… The pain of that thought struck deeper than any blade ever could. He could not bear the image of your face, of your voice calling his name in anguish when he was no longer there to answer. The weight of all he had left undone pressed upon him, and for one fleeting, bitter moment, a flash of helplessness crossed his proud heart.

Just as the Orc’s jagged blade was raised, ready to strike, a blur of motion tore through the clearing. A sound like thunder rolled in Haldir’s ears—the clash of steel meeting flesh—as the Orcs’ guttural cries rose in confusion and pain. Haldir’s breath caught in his throat, his sharp eyes widening despite the haze of pain clouding his vision. The shadows seemed to part, and there you were, moving through the clearing like a tempest. For a heartbeat, the world stilled around him. Relief crashed over him, mingled with awe and something far deeper, something unspoken yet undeniable. His chest tightened, his racing heart pounding louder than the fading battle cries. You were here. Against all odds, you had come for him. And in that moment, the weight of despair was lifted, replaced by the fiery spark of hope.

Your blade gleamed like a shard of starlight, a deadly brilliance that pierced the oppressive darkness of the forest. The fluidity of your movements was mesmerizing, every step purposeful, every strike calculated with lethal precision. The silver edge of your weapon flashed in arcs of light, slicing through the shadows with an artistry that belied the violence of the moment. You moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, your strikes clean and unrelenting, a storm given form. Each Orc that came near you met its end swiftly, their snarls turning into startled cries that were silenced as quickly as they rose. The air was thick with the clash of steel and the sharp tang of blood, but you were unshaken, your focus unyielding, your resolve unwavering. Haldir lay on the forest floor, his chest tightening as he watched you carve through the chaos with a ferocity that stole his breath. Relief flooded his veins, a tide that washed away the despair that had begun to weigh him down moments before. But it was not just relief—no, what filled him now was far greater, far deeper. Awe rippled through him, raw and unguarded, as his sharp eyes followed every movement you made. The disbelief that had briefly flickered across his face was replaced by something far more profound. You had always been strong—he knew this, admired this—but seeing you now, standing between him and the darkness, fighting for him with a passion that defied the odds, struck a chord so deep it left him shaken.

His heart, so long steeled against the perils of the world, swelled with emotions he could scarcely name. Gratitude, admiration, love—each surged within him, intertwining with the pounding of his heart. The sight of you, fighting with such unrelenting resolve, was more than a testament to your skill; it was a reminder of what he had fought to protect all his life. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Haldir felt vulnerable—not from his injuries, but from the overwhelming realization of how much you meant to him. One by one, the Orcs fell before you, their numbers dwindling until the last of them crumpled lifeless to the ground. The echoes of the battle faded, leaving only the sound of the wind brushing through the trees. The silence was almost deafening after the chaos, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves. The pale light of the moon filtered through the canopy, illuminating the scene in an ethereal glow.

You stood among the fallen, the pale moonlight catching the sheen of sweat on your brow, your chest rising and falling from exertion. Your blade hung loosely in your hand, blood dripping from its edge as your sharp eyes scanned the clearing one final time, ensuring there was no lingering threat. Only when you were absolutely certain the danger had passed did you turn toward Haldir. Your gaze landed on him, slumped against the forest floor, and your breath hitched. “Haldir!” you exclaimed, your voice sharp with worry as you rushed to his side. Dropping to your knees beside him, you immediately began inspecting him with the efficiency and care of someone used to patching him up after battles. Your hands hovered over his arms, his chest, his face, searching for injuries, your brows furrowed in deep concentration. “Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?” you demanded, your voice thick with concern.

Haldir blinked up at you, momentarily too stunned to respond. Relief mingled with a flush of embarrassment as your hands brushed his shoulders and neck, searching for wounds with single-minded determination. “I… I am unharmed,” he muttered, his pride prickling slightly at the frantic way you fussed over him. He tried to shift away, but you caught his chin with gentle but firm fingers, turning his face toward you. “Stay still,” you said, your tone brooking no argument. “Let me see.” “I told you, I am fine,” Haldir grumbled, his voice low and a little strained as you tilted his head to examine a bruise near his temple. His sharp blue eyes narrowed, but he didn’t pull away, though the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of pink. “Fine? You call this fine?” you retorted, brushing a few strands of his silver-blonde hair away to make sure there were no cuts hidden beneath. “I thought I’d lost you, Haldir.” Your voice softened, and your hands paused, resting lightly against his shoulders as you stared at him, your concern plain in your eyes. The weight of your worry hit him then, and for a moment, his pride faltered. “I was not in that much danger,” he mumbled, trying and failing to sound convincing.

You snorted, already running your hands down his arms to check for any breaks or hidden injuries. “Not in danger? You were surrounded by Orcs and on the ground, weaponless. Forgive me if I wasn’t convinced you had it under control.” Haldir’s jaw tightened, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he endured your inspection. “I would have managed,” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. “Oh, really? Managed to bleed out? Or managed to have an Orc drag you off? Which one?” you quipped, your tone light but underpinned with the lingering fear that had seized you when you saw him surrounded.

Finally, satisfied that he was, in fact, uninjured, you exhaled a shaky breath and sat back on your heels. “Thank the Valar,” you murmured, pressing a hand to your chest as the tension in your shoulders eased. “You’re really not hurt anywhere?” “No,” Haldir grumbled, averting his gaze as he shifted to sit up straighter. “Not that I haven’t already told you.” You narrowed your eyes at him, recognizing the slight edge of grumpiness in his voice for what it truly was—embarrassment. “Well, forgive me for worrying about the elf I love,” you said pointedly, crossing your arms. Haldir froze for a moment, the faint flush on his face deepening until it reached his ears. “I… you…” he stammered, before scowling faintly to hide his flustered state. “There’s no need to fuss so much. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“Oh, you’re handling yourself so well I had to cut down half a dozen Orcs to save you,” you shot back, though your tone was more teasing now. Haldir gave you a sharp look, his lips pressed into a thin line, but the faint twitch of his mouth betrayed him. “I appreciate your… intervention,” he said stiffly, clearly unused to being on the receiving end of such mother-hen levels of care. “But you don’t need to hover over me like an anxious bird.” You arched a brow at him, clearly unimpressed. “Haldir, you were surrounded. You could have been captured��or worse. Let me fuss if I want to fuss.” He huffed, crossing his arms as if to shield himself from your unrelenting care, but his silence betrayed his surrender. The faint flush still lingered on his cheeks, his pride clearly warring with the warmth that your worry stirred in him.

Finally, you smiled, brushing your fingers gently along his jawline to soothe him. “Don’t act so grumpy. I know you secretly enjoy the attention.” Haldir’s eyes narrowed at you, though there was no real heat in his gaze. “I do not,” he said firmly, but the way his lips twitched upward ever so slightly made you laugh softly. “Of course, you don’t,” you said with a knowing smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his brow. “But that won’t stop me from worrying about you anyway.” For all his bluster, Haldir didn’t pull away. Instead, he let out a soft sigh, his shoulders finally relaxing as he gave in to your care. Slowly, his free hand reached out, and before you could react, he gently took your hand in his. You blinked in surprise as he brought it to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. His gaze lifted to meet yours, a rare vulnerability shining in his eyes. “For being here. For saving me. For… always seeing me as more than the Marchwarden.” Your heart melted at his quiet, heartfelt words. Smiling softly, you gently squeezed his hand. “Always,” you whispered, your voice warm and steady. Though Haldir’s pride made him grumble and resist your fussing, his quiet kiss on your hand spoke more than words ever could. Beneath the stoic exterior, his love for you shone brightly, and for the first time in the chaotic night, he allowed himself to rest in the warmth of your care.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵��𝓼

Legolas might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.

The cold wind swept through the dense forest of Mirkwood, carrying with it the faint, guttural cries of orcs. The moon hung low in the sky, its pale light filtering through the skeletal branches above, casting shadows that danced eerily across the forest floor. Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of the Woodland Realm, stood amidst the chaos, his bow in hand and his sharp, cerulean eyes scanning the battlefield. The fight had begun suddenly, the ambush perfectly executed by the orcs who knew the forest’s every shadowy crevice. They’d swarmed him and his small band of scouts, overwhelming them with sheer numbers. Legolas moved with the grace and precision of an elf born to the hunt. Each arrow found its mark, and his twin blades danced with deadly elegance, but even he could not hold them all at bay. The jagged blade struck against his guard, forcing Legolas back with every blow. He moved with a desperate elegance, each step a calculated retreat, but the sheer force of the orc’s relentless strikes began to wear him down. The forest around him blurred into a tapestry of shadows and chaos, the cries of battle ringing in his ears like the relentless toll of a bell.

Then came the sharp crack against his temple. The impact was sudden and brutal, sending a searing pain through his skull. His vision fractured, the forest spinning in a nauseating blur of dark shapes and pale moonlight. His balance faltered, his knees hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. The ground beneath him felt cold and unyielding, the coarse leaves scratching at his skin as he struggled to regain focus. For the first time in years, Legolas felt something he rarely allowed himself to feel: helplessness. It was a fleeting sensation, quickly buried beneath his pride and determination, but it lingered enough to unnerve him. He had faced countless foes, endured countless dangers, but this… this was different. His blades slipped from his grasp, the familiar weight of them gone, and a cold emptiness filled his hands.

As the orcs closed in, their jeering laughter grated against his ears. Their foul breath filled the air, mingling with the stench of blood and sweat. He felt their rough, calloused hands seize his arms, their grip bruising as they forced him upright. The ropes they bound around his wrists bit into his skin, coarse and unforgiving, and no amount of twisting could loosen their hold. Frustration flared in his chest like a hot ember. How could this happen? He had been trained since he could walk, his every skill honed for moments like this. And yet, here he was, captured like prey caught in a snare. Shame burned alongside the anger, though he fought to suppress it. His father’s face flashed in his mind—stern and proud—alongside the countless warriors of Mirkwood who had looked to him for leadership. What would they say if they saw him now, bound and dragged through the forest like some hapless novice?

But beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, something darker stirred—a flicker of fear. It crept through him like a shadow, cold and unwelcome. The orcs’ voices rose around him, a guttural cacophony of malice and cruelty, and he could feel their delight in his capture. His sharp ears picked up their muttered plans—how they would present him to their master, how his humiliation would serve as a blow to his people. The thought twisted his stomach, but he pushed it aside, clinging to the pride and resolve that had carried him through so many battles before. Even as his legs dragged beneath him, even as the edges of his vision swam with pain and disorientation, he refused to let despair take hold. He focused on the feel of the ropes, testing their strength, memorizing the rhythm of his captors’ steps. His heart beat like a drum in his chest, a steady reminder that he was still alive, still capable of fighting. And yet, doubt lingered at the edges of his thoughts. Was this truly the end? Would he be led into the darkness, lost to the shadows of Mirkwood forever?

A sound, subtle yet distinct, reached Legolas’s ears—a barely perceptible twang of a bowstring. His sharp Elven senses were still clouded by the dizziness of the blow to his head, but even in his disoriented state, he recognized the sound. It was the unmistakable note of an arrow in flight. Before the first orc even had a chance to react, the arrow found its mark, burying itself deep into its throat. The orc let out a choked gurgle, its eyes wide in shock, before it crumpled to the ground, dead before it could make another sound. Chaos erupted immediately among the group of orcs. Through the shifting shadows of the trees, you appeared. At first, it was a blur—a streak of movement, too fast for the orcs to follow, but Legolas could see it clearly. Your form was graceful, fluid, as you moved through the underbrush, swift and deadly as a shadow in the moonlight. Your blade gleamed with a cold, deadly light, a streak of silver as you descended upon the orcs with a vengeance. The very air seemed to hum with the force of your strikes as you cut through the ranks with an elegance and ferocity that even the orcs couldn’t match.

They reacted too late, their growls turning to panicked yelps as they turned their attention to you. You moved like a whirlwind, a tempest of lethal grace. One orc lunged toward you, its filthy blade raised, but you dodged beneath its swing, slipping under its guard with ease. In one fluid motion, your blade drove deep into its side, and it fell with a gasping cry, its weapon clattering to the ground. Another came at you, its teeth bared, but you met it head-on, your strikes flowing like water as you cut down the creature in a series of precise, lethal movements. Legolas watched, his head still spinning, but his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that burned through the fog of his disorientation. The way you moved, the fierce determination in your every step—it took his breath away. In that moment, everything else faded—the pain in his temple, the mocking voices of the orcs, even the cold wind rustling the leaves above. There was only you.

Even as he struggled to stay conscious, a wave of something deeper surged within him, something stronger than mere admiration or gratitude. It was love. The fierce, unyielding love that had always burned quietly in his heart, but now—now it felt like a fire, brighter and hotter than ever before. You were here, fighting for him, saving him when he had been certain he was lost. There was no fear in his heart, only awe at your strength, your courage, your unwavering dedication to him. The last of the orcs fell with a thud, its body crumpling to the ground, and the silence that followed seemed to settle over the battlefield like a heavy fog. You turned to him then, your chest rising and falling with exertion, your breath coming in soft gasps as you scanned the area. The moonlight caught your face, framing it in a soft, ethereal glow. For a moment, you seemed not of this world, like a guardian spirit sent to him through the very heart of the forest itself.

Legolas blinked, his vision still unfocused, but when his eyes met yours, there was no mistaking the feeling that swept over him—a deep, unshakable relief. His heart stilled, the chaotic, wild rhythm of the battle fading into the background as he locked onto your gaze. In that brief, perfect moment, time seemed to slow, and the world seemed to disappear around you both. It was only you, standing there in the moonlight, looking at him with such unwavering love and concern. And to Legolas, in that fleeting moment, you were the embodiment of everything he had ever loved about the world—strength, courage, and an unbreakable bond that even the darkness of the orcs could not sever. You had come for him. Not as a prince, not as a warrior, but simply as Legolas, and that, more than anything, filled his heart with something he had long forgotten—hope. You rushed to his side, dropping to your knees with a single-minded focus that left no room for hesitation. Your hands trembled slightly as they worked at the coarse ropes binding his wrists, your voice firm but filled with concern. “Legolas,” you breathed, the worry in your tone unmistakable. “Are you hurt? Did they wound you?”

The ropes fell away, and Legolas flexed his hands, his sharp blue eyes locking onto yours. “I… I am unharmed, meleth nin,” he murmured, his voice soft and a little dazed. But the moment those words left his lips, your hands were already on him, inspecting him from head to toe with a meticulousness that bordered on frantic. Your fingers brushed over his arms, shoulders, and chest, searching for cuts or bruises beneath his tunic. “Are you certain?” you asked, your brow furrowed as your gaze darted over him. “You fell hard—I saw it. You could have cracked a rib, or—” “(Y/N),” Legolas interrupted gently, his voice steadier now. His hands reached up to cover yours, stilling them as they roved over his torso in search of unseen injuries. “I am truly unharmed. You came in time.” But you weren’t convinced yet. You cupped his face, tilting it to examine the side of his head where the orc’s blow had landed. “You’re bleeding here,” you fretted, brushing a thumb near the faintest trace of dried blood along his temple. “Does it hurt? Is your vision blurred?”

“It is nothing,” he assured you, his lips curving into the faintest smile at your mother-hen-like concern. “It will heal before the night is through.” Still, your worry refused to abate entirely. “Nothing?” you huffed, sitting back slightly but keeping your hands steady on his shoulders. “Legolas, I thought I lost you. Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?” Your voice broke slightly, and your brow knitted with frustration—not at him, but at the thought of how close he had come to being taken. His expression softened, his heart swelling with a profound tenderness as he watched you fuss over him. “Meleth nin,” he said softly, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from your face. “I am here. I am safe, thanks to you. Please, do not distress yourself.”

Finally satisfied that he was, in fact, unharmed, you let out a long, shuddering breath. “Thank the Valar,” you whispered, leaning forward until your forehead rested lightly against his. Your hands slipped down to hold his arms, grounding yourself in the solidness of him. “If anything had happened to you…” He closed his eyes at the contact, letting the comfort of your presence wash over him. “Nothing did,” he murmured. “And it is because of you. You saved me, (Y/N). You always do.” You pulled back just enough to look at him again, your eyes glimmering with both love and lingering worry. “You have no idea how much you scared me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “Seeing them take you… I thought I’d lose you.”

His hands rose to cradle your face, his touch gentle but firm. “I would never leave you,” he said, his voice resolute. “Not while there is strength in me to fight. And with you at my side, I am stronger than I have ever been.” Your lips parted, but no words came. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a fierce embrace that spoke louder than anything you could say. He sank into your hold, the warmth of your body against his easing the lingering ache of the fight. For a long moment, the two of you simply held each other, the quiet of the forest broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the wind.

When you finally pulled back, your hands lingered on his arms, and your gaze searched his face one last time. “If you ever scare me like that again,” you said, though your tone was lightened by a teasing lilt, “I swear, Prince of Mirkwood or not, I will tie you to the trees myself.” A soft laugh escaped him, the sound rare and full of affection. “You have my word,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I will endeavor to be more careful.” You gave a small huff but smiled in return, your love for him shining clearly in your eyes. And as you stood together beneath the moonlit canopy, Legolas knew with every fiber of his being that he was the luckiest elf in Middle-earth—not because you had saved him, but because you had chosen to love him with such fierce devotion.

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n0tamused · 1 month ago

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🏹Haldir at Helm's Deep

As promised, from last night. If I had more time/energy I would've colored this too.

Close up under the cut .

Version without the arrow too bc I wanted to see his face.

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craig-parker-cravings · 2 months ago

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Rahl

Haldir

Character comparisons: The red cloaks

#craig parker #darken rahl #legend of the seeker #lots #haldir #lord of the rings #lotr #haldir of lorien #lotr elves #tolkien #the two towers #helms deep

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foedhrass · 1 year ago

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From left to right: a Teleri OC, Aegnor, Amras, Annatar, Caranthir, Gil-galad.

From left to right: Irmo, Eöl, a Nandor OC, Maeglin, a Mirkwood OC, Thranduil

And of course Thingol.

Welcome and thank you to all new followers! The Thingol cloak post brought you here, but I have several more Middle-earth cosplays, most of them own designs for Silmarillion characters.

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elficially-done-with-life · 1 year ago

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Hundred Years Ago

Pairing: Haldir x Reader

Summery: Haldir wants to ask you an important question, but you two are interrupted.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Will we be there soon?" you asked with feigned impatience.

Haldir snorted in amusement: "Can't wait, can you?"

"No." you admitted. You really wished you could see something, but Haldir was very thorough in covering your eyes. "I finally want to know what you are making such a secret about. You even took the day OFF! Until two days ago, I was sure you did not even know how to do that."

"Oh, shut up," you could hear from his voice that he was grinning. Then you felt him gently press his lips to the tip of your ear. "Do not worry, Meleth nîn, we will be right there."

Haldir had been very secretive for the past few days, sometimes whispering quietly with his brothers, but would stop talking when you were within earshot.

At first you didn't think anything of it, but you were very interested in what they were talking about.

When Haldir took the day off from his duties, you were sure that something was up.

And now he was leading you to a 'mysterious place'. Whether it was really that mysterious you didn't know, but as he covered your eyes you had no idea where you were going.

Suddenly he stopped and said: "Ready?"

"Of course!" you said excitedly and he carefully took his hands away from your eyes, and you couldn't help but notice that they were shaking a little.

It took a while for your eyes to find out where you were.

Spread out on the ground in front of you was a large picnic blanket with a huge basket on top, which, judging by the smell, was filled with all your favourite treats.

You were in a clearing that you knew only too well. "This is where we met for the first time!"

Haldir nodded. "Exactly one hundred years ago."

"What?" you asked in surprise and turned to face him. To your surprise, his cheeks were slightly flushed, which was a little unusual for Haldir.

"Exactly one hundred years ago," he repeated, "we met here for the first time."

"You mean when you nearly shot me with one of your arrows?" you replied, smiling gently. That he had actually thought of that was incredible.

"I thought you were an orc." Haldir only replied. "You were walking around far too close to the borders. Be glad I did not have such a good aim back then," he leaned forward so that you could feel his breath on your lips as he said, "I would not miss my target today."

He was probably expecting you to playfully punch him in the side or come up with a counter-argument, but he had surprised you today, so you wanted to surprise him too.

You quickly leaned forward and before Haldir could react, your lips had already captured his in a gentle kiss.

Haldir returned the kiss and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you tighter against him, while the fingertips of his other hand glided over your spine.

Eventually he pulled away from you again and nodded towards the picnic blanket. "How about we sit down and eat something."

The food tasted delicious, and you knew from the first bite you took that Haldir must have made it all himself. It had probably taken ages.

You loved the food your beloved made, but unfortunately you couldn't eat it that often because he always had to work.

"I am really surprised that you remember exactly which day we met. I have to admit that I remember the year but I could not have told you the day," you admitted.

Haldir laughed softly. "I could not either. Orophin still knew. He accompanied me here for the first time because he was finally old enough to learn how to handle a bow and arrow."

You remembered well. Both of Haldir's brothers had been quite young at the time and he had cared for them since the death of their parents. One of the reasons why you had practically helped raise them after you two had become close.

"Then I guess I will have to thank him later," you said playfully and winked at him.

Haldir shrugged his shoulders. "He only provided the date, but I was planning to come here with you anyway." Suddenly his voice became a little quieter, almost uncertain. "I wanted to ask you a really important question."

He swallowed and put his plate aside, then reached for your hand. "Meleth nîn, I- "

But something interrupted him. Just as he was about to get to the question you were dying to know, there was a rustling in a bush not far from you.

Haldir jumped up and stood protectively in front of you. He pulled a knife from his sleeve, which he always had there, whether he was working or not, so that he wouldn't be unarmed in an emergency.

"Who is there?" he asked loudly, his eyes fixed on the bush.

You held your breath.

Then two elves you knew all too well poked their blond heads out of the bush. Orophin and Rùmil.

"You did not ask her!" Rùmil said indignantly and grimaced. "Do you know how uncomfortable it is to hide in a bush? We were here a few minutes before you and now we haven't even seen the big moment."

Haldir put the knife away again and massaged his forehead. "You two really are- "

"Besides, I contributed more than just the date," Orophin said to you with a pompous look, "I also chose the picnic basket! I borrowed it from Lord Celeborn, you have no idea how many he has lying around because he goes on picnics with Lady Galadriel all the time!"

You could hardly stifle your giggles as relief washed over you. For a moment you thought you were going to have to fight an orc or a wild animal.

Orophin and Rumil now climed out from the undergrowth of the bush with some difficulty and went over to you.

"Some stupid root cut me." Rùmil cursed.

"Serves you right." Haldir grumbled, but you could see his eyes immediately moving up and down his brothers body to see if he was seriously injured. Since he apparently wasn't, Haldir gave him an angry look.

Since his brothers obviously realised that they couldn't simply talk their way out of it, they turned to you with a nervous smile. "You are happy to see us, right?"

You gave Haldir a sideways glance before grinning back. "I am always happy to see you. But there are sometimes very inopportune moments, you know?"

They blushed and nodded cautiously.

Haldir rubbed his face with the hand he had just used to massage his temple.

"We will talk about it later," he finally said, turning to his brothers. "Go now."

Slowly, he let himself sink back onto the picnic blanket.

"I am sorry." he whispered, "I do not know if you still- "

You put a hand on his arm and gently pressed your lips to his cheek. "I would love to hear your question."

"We have known each other for a hundred years now," he began nervously, placing his hand under your chin so that you could look each other in the eye. "Would you do me the honour of courting you?"

Excitement rose in you and it took a few seconds before you were even able to form an answer in your head.

You couldn't believe he had actually asked that! No wonder his brothers had made such a fuss.

Meanwhile, Haldir's face looked very strained and only now did you realise that you still hadn't answered him.

A broad grin spread across your face and you said in a voice trembling with excitement: "There is nothing I would enjoy more."

Haldir slowly pulled you close and together you snuggled up on the picnic blanket under the stars.

When it was already very late, you made your way back.

Haldir carried the basket while you tucked the rolled-up blanket under your arm.

At first he had insisted on carrying both, but when you said you couldn't possibly leave everything to your future husband, he blushed and gave you the picnic blanket.

When you arrived home, all you wanted to do was fall into bed, but when you opened the front door, Haldir's brothers came to meet you.

"Now you are breaking into our house too," he said, but you could tell from the grin on his lips that he didn't hold it against them.

His brothers also seemed to have noticed the grin and with an excited squeal they ran towards you with open arms. "She said yes!"

#haldir x reader #haldir x you #haldir of lothlorien #haldir of lorien #haldir #x reader #tolkien x reader #tolkien #elves x reader #lotr #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #lotr x reader #lord of the rings

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mushroomates · 7 months ago

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Tolkein elves aren't vegan/vegetarian, they made that up for the Hobbit movies. Elves are renowned hunters in the books. They're hunting for meat.

don’t worry!! i’m well aware. you can read my other post on that. in short, i agree!

please keep in mind that a lot of these thoughts are headcanons! while i like to respect the original work, a lot of things are up to interpretation and i like to take that and run with it. (cheese wizard) i am in no way stating that everything i say is factual or is it the only correct interpretation.

with that in mind, a brief summary!

- hunting is great and valid, but there’s less things to hunt bc of sauron

- hunting is now more symbolic and regulated to protect the ecosystem

-they don’t domesticate livestock. they like to live with the earth, not impose on it. there are a few exceptions like horses, but even then, horses are seen as a companion, not a means to travel

-they also don’t farm. i’m sure they grow some things, but i’m talking at the significant level- again, respecting nature. for the same reason.

-this leads to a raw diet. it is both convenient and establishes a deeper bond to middle earth.

are elves, by a rule, vegan? no. are they vegetarian? no. they don’t follow any strict dietary laws, and also are individuals and not just a collective. i’m sure some elves choose to be vegetarian, im sure some elves also choose to eat lots of meat and pride themselves on hunting.

but elves are made up. so i can’t really ask them, and these are just my thoughts.

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windrelyn · 1 year ago

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This year I chose to draw Celeborn and Galadriel.

Happy new year everyone!

The commissions are still open! Visit my Ko-fi for more information!

#tolkien #celeborn #galadriel #elves #lotr #fanart #happy new year #new year #new year 2024 #middle earth #my art #lothlorien #lorien #lord of the rings #silmarillion #silm art

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emmyspov · 2 years ago

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Coming home (Haldir x reader)

author's note: i finished this while eating breakfast this morning - can you tell i'm sad and touch starved?? this is totally self-indulgent, i love him :( haldir brushes through reader's hair, otherwise no descriptions of looks. please reblog this if you like it and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future <3 english (still) isn’t my first language. also, please don't copy my work :)

warnings: nothing i'm aware of, just domestic fluff :)

word count: 0.9k

edit is my own :)

Haldir opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He just came home from a long and exhausting meeting with Lady Galadriel, but when he noticed the sweet smell of baked goods and spotted you asleep in your shared bed, clothed in one of his night gowns, his heart felt light again.

He knew you were waiting for him to return by the lit candle on your bedside drawer and the open book next to you and for only a second, an overwhelming amount of love knocked the air out of his lungs.

You looked absolutely ethereal. You always did, but seeing you dressed in his clothes in your shared home did something to the elf. The way you trusted him with your life and how you loved him endlessly made him emotional.

"What have you done to me, my love", he murmured and stepped closer to you. "You own my heart."

After getting ready for bed himself, the ellon carefully laid down next to you, trying not to wake you - but no luck.

"Haldir?" You turned around to your husband, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Shh. Sleep, meleth. You work so much", Haldir spoke quietly and cupped your cheek with his hand.

You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes again to really relish in the gentle contact.

"Look at yourself, marchwarden", you murmured and sighed softly. "You're gone for months and I know you don't get enough rest during your patrols. And when you come home, you take care of me. I admire your protectiveness, but you have to look after yourself, too."

Your husband's hand wandered from your cheek to the side of your head, carefully brushing through your hair before it settled on the small of your back, pulling you close to him.

"For me, looking after myself means being here, at home, with you. You bring me endless happiness, my love."

You let your head fall onto his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Gi melin."

At your words, Haldir pulled you even closer into his side if that was even still possible and pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there.

"You're too good to me", you whispered, but the elf shook his head.

"You deserve everything, meleth. And one day, I'll figure out how to give it to you."

It was your turn to shake your head before you kissed his jaw. "You are everything I could ever want, ever need. Your presence alone eases my hard days and makes my good ones better. I know my heart is safe with you."

Haldir was at a loss for words. He never thought someone would come along who'd see more in him than a marchwarden and yet here you were, looking at him as if he himself had put the stars in the sky.

Still, he didn't know what to say to you. He was never good with romantic speeches and he despised it. You deserved to be wooed with words, too.

So instead, he cupped your face in his hands and leaned down to press his lips against yours.

What he didn't realise was that you weren't waiting for a big love confession. Your husband has always been someone who showed his love through actions - just like he was doing now.

"Hal", you mumbled and fisted his gown to ground yourself. How he was able to make you weak in the knees with a simple kiss was beyond your understanding - not that you cared. All sorts of physical contact with Haldir felt like coming home.

He smiled at your flushed cheeks after you parted and let his thumb brush over your jawline.

"What did you bake earlier", he asked and you needed a second to register his question.

"Oh", you answered, "Rúmil and Orophin came over earlier and asked if the four of us wanted to have a picnic together tomorrow afternoon if you're free. I thought that's a wonderful idea and then I saw that some of the wild berries in our garden are ripe, so I baked a cake with them that we can eat together then."

Haldir could feel himself getting choked up again. You, his found family, getting along with his brothers made his heart skip a beat.

"You are wonderful."

He could see the protest on your lips, but you knew better than to disagree. While he had won all the playful arguments, he was serious about you not talking yourself down.

"Thank you", you whispered instead, accepting the compliment, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

The elf chuckled as he felt the heat radiating from your cheeks and let his hand run up and down your lower back soothingly. "You're doing so well, meleth."

You stayed like that, your body half on top of Haldir's, his arm wrapped around you and your hand laying on his chest, right over his heart.

His heartbeat must have lulled you to sleep because the next time the marchwarden looked down at you, your eyes were closed and you were taking deep, even breaths.

Carefully, he turned around to blow out the candle before settling back into the former position, letting his fingers dance over your skin and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Coming home to you will forever be the highlight of my day", he whispered before letting your breathing and the soft glow of the moon lull him into a restful slumber, too.

meleth = love

gi melin = i love you

Taglist: @shadowhuntyi

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