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luckynumber-8 · 1 year ago

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As Cold as Ice (Sam Gamgee x F Hobbit! Reader)

Description: The Fellowship has been stopped at Caradrahas, and you and the hobbits are beginning to feel the cold.

Warnings: gets angsty, reader momentarily contemplates death

a/n: Well, I did it! First one shot! Also, I should mention I like writing in a universe that's closer to the books than the movies, and I thought, where better for an angsty fic than that part where they're stuck in the blizzard and everyone is getting hypothermia? Leave a comment of some feedback if you will, it's like "writer motivation juice":)

“Caradhras was called the Cruel, and has an ill name,” said Gimli, “long years ago, when rumor of Sauron had not been heard in these lands.”

“It matters little who is the enemy, if we cannot beat off his attack,” said Gandalf.

“But what can we do?” cried Pippin. He was leaning on Merry and Frodo, and he was shivering.

“Either stop where we are, or go back,” said Gandalf. “It is no good going on. Only a little higher, if I remember rightly, this path leaves the cliff and runs into a wide shallow trough at the bottom of a long hard slope. We should have no shelter there from snow, or stones – or anything else.”

“And it is no good going back while the storm holds,” said Aragorn. “We have passed no place on the way up that offered more shelter than this cliff-wall we are under now.”

“Shelter!” muttered Sam. “If this is shelter, then one wall and no roof make a house.”

~ J. R. R. Tolkien

You wrapped your cloak about your shoulders as tightly as it would go, rubbing the coarse, worn threads against your shoulders in a vain attempt to get warmer. The snowstorm hadn’t let up at all since the Fellowship had slowed to wait out the storm, and you were beginning to feel the biting cold – really feel it, in a deep and scary way that was freezing the feeling right out of your body and making you feel all thick and heavy.

To your right, the other four hobbits were huddled in a cluster behind Bill the pony, trying to stay warm. Sam, angel that he was, was actively trying to warm his companions up, rubbing their shoulders and pulling blankets out of packs to wrap them in. You watched as he wrapped a blanket around Frodo’s shoulders, then practically squawked in alarm and pulled Pippin up from where he’d been trying to lay his head down in the snow – he was the tiniest of the five of you and hadn’t been bearing the frigid temperatures very well.

Even though there was no heat to be found anywhere, a tiny part of your core warmed watching Sam take such good care of his friends. You knew that, even in a hopeless situation like this one, he’d fight until the very last to protect everyone that he could. Me next, a tiny voice in the back of your mind whispered. Please come take care of me next.

A gust of wind blew snowflakes into your eyelashes, and you choked on a cough as the bitterly cold air hit the back of your throat. You knew Sam wouldn’t be coming to warm you – you explicitly told him not to. There’d only been room for four to shelter behind Bill, and you knew in your heart of hearts that the other four were far more important to the quest than you were. They hadn’t asked for you to sneak after them on this quest – it wasn’t their fault that you’d been snooping to see why Sam was moving to Crickhollow. They didn’t make you chase after them into the old forest when they suddenly left early one morning, or stalk them until you were all caught by the Barrow-Wight. They weren’t supposed to be saddled with you, and you weren’t going to be the one extra person who caused the downfall of the Fellowship.

Sam had been angry when he found you’d tagged along. The two of you had fought – he’d said things that made your heart ache, like “you weren’t supposed to be here,” “I never wanted you involved in something like this,” “can’t you just go home, Y/N?” Because you wanted to be there. You wanted to be there, heart, body, and soul, because he was there. You’d die before you let Samwise Gamgee run off on a dangerous quest that he might never return from without saying so much as goodbye to you. In fact, there was quite a bit more you’d like to say to him, but the two of you had barely said two words in passing to each other since that fight. Because then the Nazgul had come, and you’d had no choice but to continue on with Strider and the rest. They were stuck with you.

But you weren’t as important. You weren’t needed, and you could feel it. Which was why you were letting the other hobbits take the available shelter; “I’ll be fine keeping watch here,” you’d told Sam shortly. “Tend to the others. I’ll sit with Boromir and Legolas.”

Now, the cold was getting to you, and almost twice as fast as the others. You’d been sitting on Boromir’s right, and his tall figure provided some refuge from the gusts of snow that blew at you, but small piles of white were beginning to collect in the folds of your clothing, and your eyelashes were cold against your face when you blinked, which you were doing much more slowly and frequently as the cold threatened to take you into a never-ending sleep.

Perhaps this is how they’ll get me off their hands, you thought dejectedly. This cold will freeze me to the bone, but perhaps it’s better off that way.

Another part of your mind pushed back. You haven’t told him how you feel yet, it argued. You’ve got to live for the day that you can hold Samwise’s hands and tell him that you love him, live for a time when his arms will give you all the warmth you could ever need – a time past this when we can have time for love again.

You remembered his scathing comments, the ones that proved you weren’t wanted.

Perhaps life was just full of those sorts of disappointments, sorely and bitterly freezing, as cold as the end you were surely about to meet.

You closed your eyes, letting the cold numb away the last of the feelings you would ever have.

“Y/N?”

A voice.

“Y/N! Oh, she’s so cold...I never should have let her out of my sight.”

It couldn’t be. Shouldn’t be.

“Please, someone, a blanket…anything! Get her warm. Bless you. Boromir. I’ll repay you somehow, swear. Hold on to me, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

You fastened yourself to the sound of Sam’s voice, and hauled on it as hard as you could to pull yourself back to the conscious world.

One eye opened, then the other. You gasped and shuddered as the cold came rushing back in an icy surge – the numbness was leaving, but at least you still had feeling in your extremities. As you came to, you noticed just the barest warm presence enveloping you, not unlike a blanket.

You half-expected to be met with snowflakes falling into your eyes, but none came. You were met with the image of a tall animal with four legs, shuffling its feet to keep warm.

“Bill?” You rasped, confused. Then you realized where you were – and how you were, more so.

It was Sam. Of course, it was Sam. He was holding you tightly in his arms, with the two of you seated so you were as close as possible; if you would have had any blood circulation to spare, you might have managed a blush. His warm chest pressed against your back, and a scrap of something soft was tucked around you – a scrap of Boromir’s cloak, you realized, cut rather jaggedly like it had been sliced with a sword.

“This will be the death of the halflings,” you heard Boromir say, but his voice was distant in your ears. You managed to tilt your head so you could look into Sam’s eyes.

I’m sorry for being such a burden, you wanted to say. I’m sorry that I’m here.

Instead, all you could stutter was, “S-s-so c-c-c-cold, hur-r-rts.”

Sam looked back at you, a startlingly fierce look in his eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry I let you go so far. But you’re going to get warm again, soon if I have any say in it. We’re going to be alright, Y/N.”

The sudden his change in his demeanor was unexpected, but you weren’t going to complain. You nestled closer, clutching the scrap of Boromir’s cloak in one hand and Sam’s arm in the other.

A rustle in the snow next to you – Legolas knelt down next to Sam, holding a bottle. “Miruvor,” he said softly. “Elven cordial – one small sip for each of us, but it holds the promise of fresh strength and warmth. There is enough to split between the five of you.” He handed the bottle to Sam with an encouraging look.

Sam held the bottle straight out to you. “You have mine, Y/N,” he said stoutly. “I haven’t felt the cold much, I’ll do alright without.”

It was tempting to take the liquor and down as much as you could – it was clear and sparkling in the bottle and smelled of warm spices. But you pressed it back into Sam’s hand, noting how his fingertips had an icy coolness to them. “There’s enough for each of us,” you echoed. “You first, Samwise.” You tightened your grip on his wrist, weak as it was, hoping to communicate that you hadn’t completely lost your strength.

Sam shook his head and uncorked the flask. “I’d never known anyone more stubborn before you, do you know that?”

You chuckled, just a little. “I’d s-say yes, but you’ve known your-r-self your whole life.”

He was convinced quickly – you guessed he was colder than he let on. After a tiny sip, it was your turn. The liquid hit your throat warmer than you’d expected, and you shivered at its sweetness and flavor. The miruvor had a vitality to it that you’d never gotten from any food before – part of the elven magic, you supposed.

Sam would have gone absolutely mad over this back when we were still naïve little Shirefolk, you thought sadly. Not just having been in the presence of elves, but traveling with them, and tasting their potions…only the circumstances absolutely ruin it.

You felt your strength returning, and an internal warmth tingled through your bones. Your limbs moved with less stiffness, and your eyelids didn’t feel so heavy – the cold was by no means blocked out, but the worst of it seemed to have come to pass.

You lifted your head and looked around. Gandalf seemed to have overcome his aversion to fire, for one had been lit and was crackling merrily under the shelter of the cliff. The other hobbits were huddled around it; Merry was practically pouring the last of the elf cordial down Pippin’s throat (the youngest hobbit looked to be in barely a better state than you were). Frodo was curled up next to Boromir, who was constantly prodding the hobbit to ensure he was awake.

It was at this point you realized you were still seated on Sam’s lap, and an uncomfortable number of conflicting feelings struck you with such ferocity that it seemed more prudent to avoid them altogether, You made to crawl off of Sam’s lap and join everyone at the fire, but a firm grip on your wrist held you back.

“Wait.” There was a different note in Sam’s voice, one that made you turn quickly. “I want to know why you did that just now. Why would you put yourself at risk like that, refusing shelter and tryin’ to go off on your own? You could have easily died. Matter of fact, you almost did.”

This was it. Here came the conflict again – why are you here, Y/N, ruining our grand adventure? Maybe if you just laid it all out on him, he’d leave you be.

You inhaled, then let all the words on your mind out in one breath so nothing could be held back. “I don’t belong here, Samwise Gamgee. You of all people should see that, since you’re the one who tells me so often. I know I’m a burden, and I hate that you hate that I’m here. This whole quest would be better off without me, alright? You, Frodo, Pippin, Merry – you’re the important ones. You need to survive, so I gave you the shelter. It doesn’t matter if I die here. In fact, it would probably help you all along. So there you have it. Happy? Now if you don’t mind, I do prefer being alive at this time, so I’m going to try and get some warmth.” The rant left a nasty taste in your mouth, like you’d spit something toxic.

“It does matter.”

You didn’t want to hold your breath, to wait and see what followed, but you did anyway, because no matter what he had said, there was a reason you’d stole away from Crickhollow early that morning. There was a reason you’d chased Sam all the way through Middle Earth, up until now.

Sam took your hand in his. “It matters to me, Y/N. It matters because… because… well…” He stopped and looked away.

You were speechless. In all your time, Sam Gamgee was the poet. He always had pretty words to say. You’d never seen him at a loss for them.

When he turned back, that fiery look of resolution was back on his face. You almost didn’t have time to process it, because before you could blink, he was kissing you – a strong, passionate, romantic sort of kiss, one that would have had you weak at the knees if you weren’t already sitting on them. You once again found yourself frozen and unable to move, but this time it wasn’t cold or altogether unpleasant; in fact, a lovely, tingly sort of warmth was spreading through you. You summoned up all your willpower and threw your arms around Sam, kissing him back with as much intent as you could muster.

After some undefinable amount of time (you never knew how long that first kiss of yours was – only that there were many future ones), he finally pulled away, as pink in the cheeks as a frozen hobbit could be. “I hope that explains some things,” he said rather shyly. “I only wished you weren’t here because this quest could be the end of us all, and I want you alive and happy and safe. If I were to be the selfish sort, I’d have taken you with me from the beginning, if only so I could have your beauty and kindness to get me through the struggles of each day.”

You shivered, though the cold likely wasn’t the cause. There was the poet you’d fallen in love with – the strong soul who you knew would probably be the reason this quest succeeded, if the Fellowship could make it off this cursed mountain. “Well, you make the worst sort of liar, Samwise,” you said, but there was a smile on your face. “You had me fooled – though I suppose you’ve somewhat made up for it now.” In fact, you could barely suppress the giddy grin that was trying to stretch your frozen cheeks.

Sam laced his fingers through your cold ones. “Well, I suppose there’s no turning back now, so we might as well make the best of it. I suppose I can hardly complain now, with you as my companion...or sweetheart now, I suppose.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” you whispered, “I’ve always wanted to hear you say those words.” You squeezed his hand. “I came because I couldn’t stand to leave you, and I don’t plan to. Let’s go warm our bones before we freeze into a pair of hobbit-sicles.” You tugged him after you to the fire, which warmed everyone through the night.

Hope no longer seemed so far away.

#lotr #lotr imagine #samwise imagine #sam x reader #sam gamgee x reader #samwise x reader

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princessofgondor · 3 months ago

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the lord of the rings characters + cuddling with them 🩷

Characters Included: Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Arwen, Éowyn, Éomer, Legolas, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry

I decided I wanted to try doing some LOTR preferences! This is my first time writing for all of these characters besides Boromir so I’m still getting a handle on them. If anyone has any requests for preference posts they’d like to see, please send them my way and I’ll see what I can do!!

Author has only seen the movies, so please forgive any mistakes/inaccuracies!

Boromir is definitely pretty touch-starved, and after cuddling with you for the first time he’s very surprised how much he loves it. It becomes a common occurrence for the two of you, something he looks forward to — especially after a long day of training with his soldiers. He loves being the big spoon, and burying his face in your hair or your neck.

Faramir is a big cuddler for sure. You don’t even need to ask — as soon as you rest your head on his shoulder (when you’re sitting together) or on his chest (when you’re laying down together), he’s got his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. He gives you a lot of forehead kisses when you’re cuddling together.

Aragorn loves the moments where the two of you can just relax together, especially when things are getting stressful. He’s happy for the two of you to simply lay there in silence, holding each other, but if you need to talk about anything he’s always ready to listen.

Arwen has an incredibly calming presence, and cuddling with her can improve your mood no matter how bad you were feeling beforehand. She holds you close, whispering comforting words in your ear and pressing gentle kisses to your face and lips every so often.

Éowyn isn’t used to cuddling, but like Boromir she comes to really enjoy it. You make her feel peaceful and happy in a way that she’s never experienced before, and so she loves to be close to you as often as possible. She has a tendency to play with your hair, and she likes it when you do the same to her.

At first, Éomer tries to look tough and doesn’t admit how much he likes cuddling with you. But each time, it becomes increasingly obvious how much he loves it. Similar to Éowyn, he likes it when you play with his hair.

Legolas finds it adorable how much you love to cuddle with him, especially when you get cold. As an Elf he can’t feel the cold, but he can always tell that the temperature is dropping when you cuddle up to him. He’s perfectly happy to stay bundled up with you for as long as you need him there.

Frodo loves when the two of you cuddle up while reading a book together, though sometimes he gets distracted from the words on the page because he’s looking at you. If this is after the main events of LOTR, I could see your presence/touch being able to help Frodo heal from his traumatic experiences, at least somewhat.

Sam is incredibly affectionate, so he definitely loves cuddling. He’s a bit shy about it at first, getting a bit embarrassed and not knowing what he should be doing — like where should his arms/hands be? He doesn’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable — but once he’s used to it, it’s his favourite thing in the world.

Pippin absolutely loves cuddling with you and he doesn’t care who knows it. Honestly, if he could spend his entire life cuddled up with you and some snacks then he’d be the happiest Hobbit who ever lived. It doesn’t matter where you are, if you’re near each other he’ll want to either have his arms around you or be resting against you.

I think that like Pippin, Merry loves cuddling, but he’s a little less likely to do it publicly. When it’s just the two of you however he loves nothing more than being close to you. He probably makes little jokes and lightly teases you for being so eager to cuddle with him, but it’s all very light-hearted and you know that he loves it too.

#lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #boromir x reader #faramir x reader #aragorn x reader #arwen x reader #eowyn x reader #eomer x reader #legolas x reader #frodo baggins x reader #samwise gamgee x reader #meriadoc brandybuck x reader #merry brandybuck x reader #pippin took x reader #peregrin took x reader

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edges-of-night · 2 months ago

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I love your headcannons, thank you very much. How do you think fellowship would react if a reader saw two cute animals and said, "Oh, it's you and me!"

Thank you very much! I’m happy to hear you enjoy this little blog ♡ Another animal request, with another anon who asked for this, too – this prompt is super cute, I hope I did it justice!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

You’re gazing at a golden twilight forest with Aragorn when you spot two deer in the distance. Just like you, one rests its head against the other. “Look,” you chuckle quietly, “it’s you and me.” Aragorn smiles as he follows your gaze. When one of the deer nuzzles the other’s ear, he, too, leans in to give you a kiss. “What an uncanny resemblance, my love,” he says and pulls you even closer.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir is scandalised when you suggest that the two cats crossing your path are “just like you and me.” He has heard stories of the ruthless Gondorian queen who used felines as her spies and flinches when one of the cats hisses at him. You go to pet it instead, and it softens and purrs – just like Boromir does when you caress him – but you don’t say that part out loud ♡

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

You and Frodo share a cool carafe of strawberry lemonade when two butterflies flutter to the flower field beside you. “Look at those,” you say, “they’re just like you and me.” – “Sharing a delicious drink in the sunlight,” Frodo agrees with a dreamy smile. You keep watching the butterflies until one of them flies right into your face. “It gave you a kiss. I shall do the same,” Frodo says and leans in to peck you ♡

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

You’re travelling the Shire’s hills in Gandalf’s wooden cart when two sparrows almost fly right into you. You flinch but realise they’re only doing their Spring dance through the morning air – a couple! “They’re like you and me!” you laugh. Gandalf gives you an amused look. “What a subtle way to tell me we’re going to dance at tonight’s party.” – “Indeed,” you grin.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Watching the puppies play on the ground makes you soften. When one of them bites another’s ear, you playfully nudge Gimli’s head – he’s been sitting silently next to you until now. “What?” he grunts. “The dogs are doing it,” you argue with a grin. Your Dwarf protests at first about this comparison. The two of you, dogs? “I reckon it is true though,” he muses. “We are both very loyal after all. And we like food. And games. And…”

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

You’re making your way through Mirkwood with Legolas, crossing a tree over a small pond where you make a curious observation: “Look! The toad and dragonfly are sharing a lily pad.” You snort. “They remind me of you and me.” – “Indeed! The sunlight reflects on its wings just like in your eyes, in all the colours of the sky.” You blush and wonder whether or not Legolas knew you meant it the other way around.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry is a bit sensitive about his height, but that doesn’t stop you from comparing the two of you to the horse and the pony you spot in Bree. “Hey! I’ll have you know,” Merry begins, “that ponies are very sturdy and resilient.” – “I know. Just like Hobbits.” – Merry pouts at that comment and crosses his arms, murmuring, “Fine. Just don’t braid my hair like that pony’s.” – “Perhaps…”

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

After a proper picnic, you lie in a meadow with Pippin. Purely by chance you look to your right when two bunnies scamper out of the bushes to eat some grass. You grin and whisper, “Don’t move too fast now, but there’s tiny versions of you and me over there.” – “Tinier than me?” Pippin asks and rolls over to watch the bunnies over your belly. “Aww! They’re mighty cute, but so are we!”

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

You watch fondly when two ladybugs crawl over Sam’s hands, dirty from gardening but still gentle to the bugs. You smile when you hear your Hobbit talking quietly: “Right. Let me get up… there you go… over here it’s safer for you. A flower house.” You tilt your head at him. “Moving in together? Just like the two of us, you mean?” – “Hm? What? Sorry, luv, I wasn’t listenin’ there.” – “Oh, nothing…” ♡

#lotr imagine #lotr headcanons #lotr x reader #fellowship x reader #aragorn x reader #boromir x reader #frodo x reader #gandalf x reader #gimli x reader #legolas x reader #merry x reader #pippin x reader #samwise x reader #* ask #* request #* fluffy

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pastanest · 2 years ago

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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

LOTR Characters - Falling Asleep With Him

Thranduil

The Elven King prefers to sleep with his head on your chest or in the crook of your neck; he tells you that this is because he can only fall asleep when you are running your fingers through his hair, and this is true, but it is not his sole motive for this sleeping position - in his mind, sleeping on top of you provides you with added security against any potential attack. While he isnt paranoid about this, he is protective of you, and if he can provide you with further safety in any circumstance, he will. Thranduil believes that by lying on top of you, any attacker would quite literally have to go through him before they could get to you, and he is by no means against saving your life by sacrificing his own. He would rather you not know this, because if you did, you would not allow him to sleep on top of you ever again, but in truth, your motivations for wanting to sleep on him are the same. Considering he’s around 6’10”, he is considerably taller than you, and his body smothers yours in a way that is beyond comforting. Thranduil enjoys listening to your heartbeat, it soothes him greatly to feel you so close to him, to hear the very essence of your life force, and he has done well to attune himself to the beat of your heart; so much so, that he will often tease you by kissing your neck in order to feel your heart splutter frantically. Elves do not have much of a need for sleep, but this is not to say that they do not enjoy sleeping, and when it comes to the act of slumber, there is no better place to sleep than in the arms of a King who loves you.

Legolas

Physical affection and various forms of intimacy are all unexplored areas for this Elf, and it will be up to you to introduce him to those when the two of you are ready. At first, falling asleep with Legolas is a little awkward, given that he is fully alert and his entire body rigid, because he doesnt quite know what to do with himself. He lies awake, watching your sleeping head rise and fall on his chest with a look of bewildered love in his eyes. After a few hours, he slowly wraps his arms around you, and in your sleep, you smile. Your reaction causes Legolas’ heart to skip a beat, and he is once again unsure of what to do next. He does not sleep that night, instead stays conscious and studies your sleeping movements, trying to learn the habits of your subconscious so that he can adjust himself to them. Over time, Legolas becomes progressively more comfortable, and even manages to fall asleep himself. His movements with you are careful and calculated, never wanting to disturb you or cause you discomfort. Legolas knows how important sleep is in keeping up your strength and preserving your health, so he makes sure you get enough sleep each night, and if anyone’s presence threatens to wake you, Legolas will not hesitate to request their exit in a hushed whisper and perhaps an icy glare if they are deserving of it.

Frodo

Both during and after his adventures, Frodo is plagued by nightmares whenever he closes his eyes, and this has often resorted in him attempting to completely avoid sleep. More times than you can count, you have caught him desperately trying to keep his eyes open, his head lulling into unconsciousness for a fraction of a second before Frodo jerks himself awake again. It was during your time with him on his adventures, shortly after you’d met through the Fellowship requesting your assistance, that you offered your services to him. On the first occasion that you saw him trying to stay awake, you happened to be on watch, making you the only other member of the Fellowship that was awake with him. You recognised his struggle, the cause for his reluctance, and you sat down beside him, causing him to jump in surprise because he had been so focussed on keeping his eyes open that he hadnt seen you move. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into your side, he naturally curled into you, but the poor hobbit was overcome with awkward hesitance. He smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at your comforting gesture, and after a short conversation in which you promised to protect him in the land of dreams, Frodo allowed himself to drift into sleep. From that moment on, you were at his side the moment he showed signs of tiring, and throughout his adventures you were the only being that could calm his tormented soul into a peaceful slumber. He would either be tucked into your side, or resting his head on your chest, whatever position felt most comfortable each night, but always with your arms around him, and always with a soft smile on both of your faces. He wouldnt dare tell you, but from the first night you held him, you have appeared in his dreams and fought off all dark forces that swarmed him, and no existing words could express his gratitude for your existence.

Samwise

Samwise Gamgee’s shyness got the best of him around you for a long time, you merely mentioning the prospect of cuddling was enough to enflame his cheeks and expect a stuttered response, and after a little while you decided that its best not to voice these things with Sam. Instead, you choose to casually initiate them. Whether it be holding his hand while in discussion with others, kissing his cheek whenever you had to leave his side, or resting your head on his shoulder as you sit around a campfire with the Fellowship, your actions without explanation left Sam flustered, but not hesitant, because by surprising him, you showed him that these actions were perfectly alright. This extended to falling asleep with him, too. You started slow, pretending to be asleep and subtly snuggling up to him, just to judge his reaction. Apparently, when you’re asleep the idea of affection is far less daunting to Sam, because he was quick to pull you into his arms and place a kiss on your forehead, and you could feel the smile on his lips. Considering how well that went, you decided to open your eyes and kiss him, revealing that you had been mischeviously pretending to sleep the entire time. Sam chuckled and shook his head as he blushed, but he seemed at ease, and after that his hesitance towards affection all but evaporated into thin air. He will adapt to whatever sleeping position you find most comfortable each evening, but you know that his favourite sleeping positions involve your head on his chest with one of your hands in his hair, and the other held tightly in his hand, and unless either of you are wounded to the extent of that position being uncomfortable for you, you will almost definitely wake up in that position every morning.

Aragorn

The angsty King of romance is slow and tender with you in every area of your relationship (wink wonk), and falling asleep is no exception. Considering the sheer mass of occasions in which you have seen him almost die, it is no surprise that you value the moments spent in his arms, and Aragorn is very aware of this. He has heard your shallow, panicked breaths calm as soon as you feel his arms around you, his kiss on your forehead, his wordless reassurances that remind you he is still there, still breathing with you. No matter how wonderful your day with him as been, once you are in bed with him and the night is silent, you remember the nights you’ve fallen asleep sobbing into the sheets because someone has delivered you the news that Aragorn is dead, dead from some heroic deed, sacrificing his life for another, being the brave knight you knew he was, and that makes it so much harder to disbelieve every time. But every single time, Aragorn has returned to you, and you have felt your heart beat back to life at the sight of him. These memories haunt you, and your wounded heart can only be healed by feeling the beat of his. As a result, you often fall asleep with your palm or ear pressed to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a blissful sleep, his arms holding you tightly against him as his fingertips play with your hair or dance along your back. Sometimes, after long days spent apart, Aragorn will sing you to sleep with the most beautiful songs, some in languages that you dont understand, but all beautiful sounds regardless. Though you’ve never told him for fear of plaguing him with guilt, Aragorn knows your heart is splintered because of him, and he will lie awake every night with you in his arms, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he is certain you are already exploring your unconscious mind, and sometimes, just before he chooses to fall asleep, he will hold you just a little closer to him and kiss the top of your head, a single tear escaping his eyes as they close. A tear being a mixture of sadness for the pain he has caused you and the bliss at being able to hold you again, is the last telltale sign of Aragorn’s consciousness.

#aragorn x reader #legolas x reader #frodo baggins x reader #samwise gamgee x reader #aragorn #legolas #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil

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wordbunch · 1 year ago

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how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked

a/n: requested by the sweet @almost-gabrielle, i hope you enjoy it, and everyone else too - it's going to be GIGANTIC! 😍 be nice, cause I included some characters I haven't written much before (exciting!!!) and if you reblog with a comment or a nice tag... i'll love you forever! 💖 that means a lot, and i'm very grateful for all of it 🥰

ARAGORN: he actually feels like that quite often, but he’s incredibly good at hiding it. Luckily, you’re an expert in reading him like an open book, but oftentimes you need to literally physically drag him away from whatever he is doing (and he might complain as you do so). Aragorn just enjoys sometimes being quiet with you, and it’s usually what he needs when his mind is racing, or his body is overexerted. Or both. You can just lie down together and run your fingers slowly through his hair, and that will help him forget his worries at least for a little while. Secretly he is an absolute sucker for sweet, romantic confessions of love and affection, and he will melt if you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

LEGOLAS: something has to be extremely serious for him to feel that way, because his limits are very high; but in those moments he just wants to get away from everything as soon as possible and run to you, because with you the rest of the world just fades away. He enjoys an outing in nature, far away from real life, especially if the two of you find a nice lake or river to go for a swim in, and eventually act like a couple of children splashing and chasing each other. If that doesn’t help, he likes to sit in front of you and let you braid his hair as he talks about whatever is on his mind, and it also helps him physically relax to have you sitting behind and so close to him.

BOROMIR: this man will most likely push himself to his absolute limits, because he shoulders too much responsibility and feels pressured constantly to be on top of things. However, it’s easy to notice when he becomes a bit more irritable at one point, and then you know it’s time to talk him into taking at least a little break. That can be a slippery slope, because once he gets you alone for 5 minutes, it can very easily turn into 15 hours, and he would never finish anything. But on some days it’s just necessary - you sweet talk him into a cuddle session, during which he accidentally falls asleep with his head over your heart, or you make some tea with love as the special ingredient – and tell him that! He’s going to melt and finally, gratefully accept that his partner wants to look after him.

FARAMIR: much like his brother, he will probably suffer in silence, but you can’t miss his tired sighs every now and then, and the way he shuts his eyes and rubs his temples. If you hug him from behind, he will melt into your touch and lean onto you so much that you will almost topple over, but that will also make him admit to himself that he really needs a break. Run him a nice, hot bath complete with fragrant ingredients, and candles lit around it, and he will be forever grateful. If you don’t join immediately, he will very sweetly ask you to come with him because 'oh the bath is so big and so lonely' without one more person in it.

ÉOMER: this hardworking man is actually quite in touch with how he feels, both physically and emotionally, and he knows when things are becoming too much and he needs to step away for his own good. It is not unusual for him to go search for you and suggest that the two of you do something away from everyday life. Many times he doesn’t even suggest anything, he just follows behind you whatever you’re doing - taking a walk and admiring some trees in bloom? He’s right there holding your hand. Sitting on a balcony and reading? He will lay his head on your lap and ask you to read to him. And he is content just being present with you.

SAM: he gets both overworked and stressed quite often, poor thing. Make him something to eat and bring it outside while he’s working in the garden, and just have a spontaneous mini-picnic in the backyard. Although he’s very hardworking and persistent, over time he’s learned to accept your help and pampering, and he really really enjoys it too. If he is under mental stress, maybe you’ll need to push him a little bit to tell you what is on his mind, but once he does, he will gladly listen to your advice or any help you can give him.

FRODO: baby boy is in his head a lot and oftentimes he will accidentally create things to worry about, and he will just zone out. if he has a faraway look in his eyes, while doing nothing in particular, you can accurately guess what is up. He likes to feel useful, and he will gratefully accept if you ask him to help you with whatever you’re doing - it gives him an excuse to be kind and helpful, but also spend time with his favorite person. Especially if you’re organizing/re-organizing something, he will enjoy doing it with you, or cooking - he might not be the best at it, but he delights in giving you a hand, and he likes to learn and improve new skills anyway.

MERRY: he is actually much more of an overthinker than he seems to be on the outside, so stress sometimes just generates outta nowhere! Also he isn’t the biggest fan of physical labor out there, but he is a little bit of a show-off when it comes to you, and he will go above and beyond when helping you with something or doing something for you, until he can barely stand. Afterwards he will take pride in the fact that you had to force him to stop whatever he was doing, but he was simply being so very nice to his favorite person! Something he loves to do to unwind in those moments is just come up with random stories with you, the two of you taking turns making up characters and events. He is a little bit of a baby and he will just take your hand wordlessly and put it in his hair, because it feels nice when you run your fingers through it.

PIPPIN: he will either be stressing over very small, irrelevant things, or something absolutely terrible, no in-between. If it’s something small, he has no problem rambling about it to you, and that usually helps him sort things out; but if it’s something serious, he will grow quiet. The best thing you can do for him in those moments is distract him with a silly idea like “let’s go for a walk and find as many kinds of blue flowers as we can” or just straight up make him laugh - it’s the best medicine. He wouldn’t ask you directly to do it, but he’d love it if you could just hold him or cuddle him for a bit (he’s the little spoon of course).

BILBO: oh he will get worked up over a whole bunch of random things; and when he is working on something, he goes all in (and then has a random episode of doing absolutely nothing), so you need to be the one who grounds him in reality sometimes. Just don’t startle him when approaching him quietly. He is very responsive to your touch and he will just lean into you as soon as you’re near, almost forgetting about everything else. He adores it when you hold his face in your hands and he will look at you as if hypnotized while you comfortingly reassure him that everything will be alright and that he doesn’t have to do anything alone as long as you’re around.

FÍLI: he is very big on “strong protective independent dwarf” and sometimes he doesn’t fully allow himself to rest properly, or to process some things that are bothering him on the inside. However, at one point it will all have to culminate, and then his first instinct is to shut himself off. A guaranteed way to get through to him is to kiss him senselessly wherever you can reach and it makes him subconsciously relax almost immediately. He will kiss you back passionately which helps him eliminate some of the tension he’s feeling. Additionally, he will never ever say no to receiving a nice little massage from you.

KÍLI: oh he is quite proud of himself if he ends up overworking himself for you, as if it gives him bonus partner points. You will gently scold him for pushing himself too far, and then he will pout, but you know he still doesn’t regret it. Then he himself will drag you away for a cuddle session - he chose that as his reward for being the very best partner in all of Middle-earth - but you don’t have to exclusively cuddle. He finds it very relaxing if you sing something quietly to him and he will look up at you with shining eyes.

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place

@valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @sweetpea-thoughts

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rattyoakenbitch · 5 months ago

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lotr + the hobbit memes i found from pinterest

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parsleysaauce · 4 months ago

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Crawls out of a month long art block with a new hyperfixation. So…. who up lording they rings :-)

#I am being so so normal over Samwise Gamgee #this is a mix of his film design and how I imagined him reading the first book :3 #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr samwise #lotr fanart #my art

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frodo-with-glasses · 2 months ago

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In the Barrow, Part Two

< Prev | Next >

#frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #peregrin took #pippin #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #lord of the rings #lotr #my art #fig tree au #sorry for the delay on this one!#as you might imagine that fifth panel was HECK to draw #hmm yes i haven’t drawn much of anything in a while let’s change that by drawing THREE FACES IN THREE-QUARTERS VIEW UNDER THE CHIN #i am so smart yes i am precious

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boromirthedad · 11 months ago

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The fellowship internet usage

Gandalf: posts controversial opinions specifically to start fights and make people angry

Frodo: "this started out as an educational video about this topic I found interesting but then I fell down a rabbit hole of research and now the video is 2 hours long"

Sam: cooking and gardening videos, cameos from other hobbits, gives advice to people in his comments

Pippin: tiktok challenges

Merry: elaborate prank videos

Aragorn: posts once or twice a year in an unknown location just talking about life and what he's been up to

Legolas: vlogger

Boromir: sparring techniques and tutorials

Gimli: how to videos

#imagine if you will pippin doing the renegade #lotr #lord of the rings #the fellowship #the fellowship of the ring #gandalf #frodo baggins #lotr frodo #sam gamgee #samwise gamgee #aragorn #legolas #boromir #boromir lotr #gimli son of gloin #gimli #lotr memes #wren posting

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okay-j-hannah · 2 years ago

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Since Yuletide

The Lord of the Rings : Oneshot

Samwise Gamgee x Reader

Word Count: 5927

Warnings: This is the sweetest bucket of candy 🍬 just a ridiculous amount of pining and the most gentle Samwise

Request: “Hi I know you probably have a lot of requests but I was hoping you could write a samwise x reader fic or prompt about sam wanting some alone time with the reader but always getting interrupted.” Anon

A/N: Samwise Gamgee has been trying to tell his friend he’s been in love with her for months now, but most frustratingly, something always seems to get in the way of his confession

When Samwise got reminiscent of his marriage to the lovely Miss. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he always sat the children down and told the tale of how he courted her. It was an elaborate story of the many failed attempts to get (Y/N) alone long enough to say his feelings and intentions.

He would sit in his armchair, one child on his lap and another on his toes, as he described a half dozen attempts to convey his love for (Y/N) in their youth. He spoke of how only persistence and sheer dumb luck brought the pair of them together.

(Y/N) sat braiding their children’s hair, only rosy cheeks and small laughs adding to the story. She adored hearing his side of things, as she was completely oblivious to his affections when they were younger.

And the map of failed attempts was told in the following order.

Attempt #1:

“You can do it Samwise Gamgee.” The hobbit was talking to himself as he strolled the path towards Bagshot Row. “Just invite her for a drink.”

He fussed with his hair and tugged at his vest, the idea of speaking with (Y/N) already making him red. Just that morning, giving himself a pep talk, Sam was so confident everything would go according to plan. But now, pulling at long reeds of grass as he walked, the idea that (Y/N) would reject his advances seemed like a very real possibility.

He had to continue talking to himself just to keep himself from turning around. “It’s just a drink. A drink to let her know I’m interested. She… she would give me a chance. I think…”

The path led to the first hobbit holes, smoking chimneys and flourishing gardens. Sam tried to distract himself with the new blooms, seeking any sort of comfort from the growth. They reminded him of days in the surrounding fields – ones where (Y/N) joined the gardeners in collecting plants for the hobbit gardens.

Because that was who (Y/N) was. Though not a gardener herself, (Y/N) was a friend to all and never refused to help when she saw it needed. Perhaps it was then that Sam knew he had to tell her of his feelings.

Or perhaps it was when (Y/N) stood on his doorstep holding two pink flowers and wished to settle a disagreement among friends. Which flower was a peony, and which was a dahlia? He was able to distinguish the pair immediately and was gifted the peony from a radiant (Y/N).

“I knew it!” she had said, “I told Fatty Bolger so when he tried to give me the dahlia and called it a peony. I needed some professional help to prove him wrong,” she winked at him. “He just knew I preferred peonies but had no idea what they looked like. The sorry fool.”

Sam had accepted the flower barely speaking two words the entire interaction. But by the racing of his heart he knew he couldn’t keep the love he had for her quiet much longer.

Perhaps he decided to express his feelings when (Y/N) came pounding on his door bearing a large blueberry pie.

He reddened immediately but ignored it to question her heavy breathing, “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

She panted, wiping at her sweaty brow with the back of her free hand. In the other she displayed the fresh pie, “I’ve stolen the Sackville-Baggins’ prized pie.” She gave a toothy grin, “And I need to lay low – do you mind if I come in?”

Sam raised his eyebrows but moved to the side to let her in.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “I only just got away.”

“Why would you steal a pie?” Sam asked, leading the way to the kitchen, “For a bet?”

(Y/N) sat, “No, those greedy Sackville-Baggins were teasing young Tolman Cotton something awful. The poor boy was nearly in tears before I led them away. The only way they’ll win at the town fair tomorrow is with this pie – serves them right to lose it. You know how they treasure their trophies.”

“You rescued Tolman Cotton?” Sam felt his heart lift, “Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders, finding the nearest forks and handing one to Sam, “It didn’t seem right.” She dug into the pie without cutting a slice.

Sam cracked a smile, “That was very kind of you.”

“It was the right thing to do. Now are you going to share this victory with me, Mr. Gamgee? If you don’t I might just eat this whole pie myself.”

Sam smiled at her full cheeks, grabbing a forkful of the pie.

Perhaps Sam knew his heart was fit to burst when she offered to help trim an overgrown garden one day.

With a gardening apron and basket of tools, Sam knelt in the earth to pull away unwanted grasses and weeds, only to discover dying plants hidden beneath. He sighed at the neglect and thought of the new plants he could replace them with.

A sudden presence near his shoulder caused him to jump, “(Y/N)! How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see you mourn a few flowers.” Her smile was gentle, holding less of its usual mischief, “Want some help?”

“Oh, no – that’s all right.” He brushed dirt from his hands and stood to meet her, “But… but I wouldn’t mind the company.” His heart leapt into his throat.

Time slowed for Sam as he awaited her answer, “I’ll grab a trowel.”

His face split into a grin, “You don’t have to help. I just want a friend to pass the time.”

“I’ll start under the window.” She went for the ground, kneeling and immediately getting her hands dirty in the dry earth.

Sam shook his head in wonder, “You don’t have…”

“I know,” she said simply, cutting him off. “Tell me what these are.”

Sam’s chest felt aglow with a burning he couldn’t explain. He knelt beside her, “That was a beech tree sapling. Without proper care it dried out.” He became painfully aware of how dirty his hands were pointing out the plant.

He hid his hands, trying to wipe them clean on the dry grass beneath them. (Y/N) noticed and promptly plunged her fingers into the dirt, successfully burying them. As if ensuring soil had coated every nail and knuckle, she gestured, “Could you hand me that trowel?”

Sam met her gaze with dazzling eyes, amazed at her actions – the lengths she went to ensure others were comfortable were astounding. He blindly found the garden trowel, too busy watching (Y/N) smile at him.

When their hands met, Sam could’ve sworn the world went quiet to watch.

She left her hand laying on top of his for a second longer than necessary before closing her fingers around the trowel, “Thank you.”

Needless to say, Sam was anxious to pursue those feelings. After months it seemed necessary to make his intentions clear as any other hobbit could beat him to courting her all because he wasted time being flustered in her presence.

And as he walked to her bright yellow door, he found it quickly opening to reveal a bounding (Y/N). She held handfuls of gear as she jumped down the stone steps.

“Oh, hello Sam!”

He lost the ability to speak for a moment.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Sam blinked hard a few times, “Yes – yes, of course. Where are you off to?”

“Fishing,” she smiled, “Care to join?”

Yes, he thought, and while on the boat together he could express his feelings for her. It was a rather romantic idea – he smiled at his luck – rowing them out together and admiring the water before admitting how in love he already was with her.

“Sounds like the perfect way to spend the afternoon.”

“I quite agree,” she beamed, “There should be enough room for all of us.”

Sam’s smile fell, “All of us?”

“Merry and Pippin are coming too. Merry’s got a boat near Bucklebury Ferry.”

As if on cue the mentioned hobbits came outside, both with their own fishing gear and completely oblivious to how they ruined the chance for (Y/N) and Sam to be alone.

Holding back his sigh of defeat, Sam mumbled, “I’d have to borrow a pole and fishing line.”

Attempt #2:

A few days later Sam was determined to uphold his confidence in confronting (Y/N). He stood outside her yellow door, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes. He concentrated on what he was going to say, mumbling aloud.

“Hello, (Y/N)… good morning, (Y/N), how are you?” he rubbed his hands together, “The suns out today. No, that’s ridiculous. Um… it’s summer! She knows that already, why would I open with that?” he grimaced. “(Y/N), I was hoping you were home. And clearly, you are – and I wanted to ask…”

“Sam?”

He snapped his eyes open, turning to find (Y/N) poking her head out of the kitchen window.

“What have you got your eyes closed for?”

“Oh, well…” his tongue stopped working, “The – uh, the sun hurts my eyes.” His mouth tightened into a thin line as he listened to his own poor excuse.

(Y/N) seemed to think it endearing, thank goodness. “Right. Hey, would you care for a sweet summer treat?” Her smile was contagious.

“Do I always,” he smiled back, “What did you have in mind?”

She lifted her arms out of the window to show a bowl and whisk in her hands, “I was just whipping some cream. The strawberries are ripe for picking this morning.”

Sam felt his mouth water instantly. The first of the strawberries and cream that season. “Sounds delicious – how can I help?”

She fell back into the kitchen and met him at the door without the whipping cream, “We can gather the berries together!” She grabbed his hand and led him around to the side gate, “They’re just over here.”

Sam stared at their clasped hands, his feet growing heavy at the thought of (Y/N)’s hand in his. It was working out better than he thought – the incident with the fishing trip a forgotten memory. He could envision (Y/N) and himself buried among the strawberry bushes, picking handfuls of the red berries. He would try to toss a few into her mouth, and she would perch one on the top of his nose. She’d make a competition on who could pick more, and Sam would offer to carry her basket.

And when they were laughing and smiling and snacking on delicious summer berries would Sam confront her. He’d offer her a strawberry stained hand and tell her everything.

“Hello, (Y/N) dear.”

Sam stopped in his tracks, (Y/N)��s hand falling out of his.

“Hello, mum,” she replied, “Look who showed up to help.”

(Y/N)’s mother popped her head up from between the bushes, “Oh, goodness Sam. Don’t you have enough gardens to tend to as it is?”

He swallowed bitterly at another unexpected guest to his planned love confessional. “I’m always willing to help a friend. I learned that from your daughter.”

(Y/N) beamed before gasping, “Oh, I forgot to ask! Why were you at the door? Did you need something?”

Sam looked towards the ground and fought to suppress the disappointment that rose in failing to share his feelings. “I wanted to be in your company. I was going to ask if you didn’t mind being in mine for the day.”

Her grin was heart stopping, “I love your company, Sam. Always have.”

Attempt #3:

Sam was not going to give up.

He grumbled as he sat in The Green Dragon, occupying a table with his closest friends. While they ate and drank and laughed merrily, Sam slouched in his seat, hand wrapped around an untouched tankard. He stared at the flickering candles in the hanging chandeliers, mindlessly following the trails of melted wax.

Frodo clapped a hand to his shoulder, “Come, Sam. Why the long face?”

“His mind is stuck on a certain hobbit lass,” Pippin grinned mischievously, stuffing his mouth with bread and cheese.

Merry picked at his smoking pipe, “You should have seen him on our fishing trip.” He whistled, “Furious, he was. Wanted (Y/N) all to himself.”

“(Y/N)?” Frodo grinned, “Is this the hobbit you refuse to name? She clearly has your heart – why should that make you sulk?”

“Because he hasn’t had a chance to tell her yet,” Pippin said through a full mouth.

Sam sighed out his frustration, wiping a hand across his face, “This is my heart we’re discussing, shouldn’t I get to speak on its behalf?”

Merry and Pippin shared a look. Frodo couldn’t contain his smile, “My dear Sam, you’re besotted.”

He groaned, “And what is she? Carefree and unburdened by this feeling.” He pawed at his chest, “I feel sick just thinking about her. How do I get her alone long enough to get it off my chest?”

Merry filled his pipe with tobacco, “Well, don’t look now, but she’s just entered through the back door.”

A quick jerk to look behind him unbalanced his tankard, ale spilling over the edges, “Oh, let the earth swallow me up, please.”

“No, here’s your opportunity,” Frodo urged, “While it’s on your mind, go talk to her.”

“It’s always on my mind,” Sam mumbled, sipping his remaining ale and following (Y/N) with his eyes. She went to speak with a group of musicians in the corner.

“We believe in you,” Pippin said mutely, stealing Sam’s portion of the meal, “Tell her to care and be burdened by the feeling.”

Sam swallowed hard, standing abruptly and sending his chair flying to the ground. The clatter couldn’t be heard much above the chatter of the merry drinkers and Frodo assisted him in straightening the chair.

He flexed his hands, feeling his fingers go tingly as he tried to think of something to say to her. He was nearly to her shoulder when he said loudly, “Evening Miss. (Y/N). I was wondering…”

But when she turned around a fiddle was in her hands, and she was playing a jolly tune. She was beginning to sing a traditional drinking song, her brows furrowed when she spotted Sam behind her. But her voice didn’t waver as she questioned him with her eyes.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go; to heal my heart and drown my woe.”

Sam shut his mouth tightly and waved her off as if to say, “Don’t mind me. Forget I was ever speaking. Better yet, forget you even saw me here gawking at you.”

She began bouncing on her feet, playing the fiddle expertly and singing with a radiant voice, “Rain may fall and wind may blow, and many miles be still to go…”

The pub joined in, raising their mugs to the dancing (Y/N) as she flitted between tables and drinkers, serenading them with her merry fiddle.

Merry and Pippin went as far as to climb on top of their table. Frodo remained in his seat, though he clapped along with the tune. He met Sam’s eyes across the room and shrugged his shoulders.

Sam pouted, sighing out his defeat once more, but he couldn’t help but watch as (Y/N) sang and played and danced. Her curls bouncing around her rosy complexion. The beauty and merriment in her face was making that feeling in Sam’s chest burn brighter in a painful turn of events.

The task was proving more difficult that he expected.

“… but under a tall tree I will lie, and let the clouds go sailing by!”

It didn’t stop him from complimenting her song afterwards or offering to buy her a drink or sharing an evening talking and laughing with all of their friends.

Attempt #4:

“Sam!”

His head popped out of the gardens, a weed or two stuck in his curls, “(Y/N)?”

She was carrying a woven basket, cheeks freckled from the summer sun. The sight of her bouncing up the path made him think of all the things he loved about the Shire.

Golden light and green hills and summer berries and wheat fields. Of sun warmed faces and fresh tilled earth and of homecooked meals and the comfort of having someone’s hand in yours.

He stood quickly to his feet, messing with his rolled up sleeves, “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” she breathed, making it to the garden gate, “But I need your help.”

“Anything.”

She smiled at the speed of his response, “I need flowers. Lots of flowers.” She leaned over and pressed a finger to his sun kissed cheek. “And I figured I know just the gardener to help me.”

His face split in a dazed smile, “Do I know him?”

“You! You foolish weedwhacker.” She held up the basket, “For the Old Took’s party. I need flowers to make into crowns and necklaces.”

Sam untied his apron, “There are the meadows of the East Farthing. We could start there.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work,” she rushed out, watching him lay his apron across his garden tools. “I thought I’d help until this yard was done and then we’d go.”

“Don’t you pay any mind to that,” he scolded, “Let me help you for a change.”

They rounded the corner and practically holding his breath, Sam offered his arm to her. (Y/N) smiled, wrapping a hand around near his elbow.

Sam exhaled and cleared his throat, “How has the party planning been?”

“Time consuming,” she huffed, leaning into him, “Which is why I need help with this flower picking business. I’d be hopeless if I tried to do it all by myself.”

All by themselves, Sam noted, feeling that familiar burning in his chest. He pictured them sitting between the long grasses, the wind gently playing with her hair. They would sift through the leaves to find the biggest blooms, filling their basket. Sam would offer his favorite to her and watch her weave it into her curls. (Y/N) would collect the fallen petals and decorate the top of his head with them. They’d practically be nose to nose as she giggled at the soft color speckling his hair.

“There,” she’d say, “Ready for the party.”

“But not you,” he’d reply, “It’s your turn.” And he’d place small blossoms between the coils of her curls, framing her face with soft colors of white and purple and pink.

“(Y/N),” he said quietly, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Hmm?” she hummed, holding onto him tighter.

He paused as if to wait for an inevitable interruption, “Have you ever thought about… about settling down?”

“Settling down…” she repeated slowly, trying to understand him.

“Planting some roots, I mean,” he continued, “Have a place of your own maybe.”

She nodded hesitantly, confused as to where the conversation was heading. “Of course – one day – but I’ll stay with my family until…”

“Until… you have someone to settle down with?” Sam asked hopefully. With each word his heart was rising higher and higher into his throat.

“Yeah,” she said, “I wouldn’t want to move into a hobbit hole all by myself.” She laughed and Sam had to focus on his big clumsy feet.

He remained quiet as he asked, “So you’ve thought about finding someone?”

“Why all the questions, Sam?” she asked playfully, “What are you not telling me directly?”

He didn’t respond right away. (Y/N) noticed.

She stared at him as they walked. Her smile fell and her eyes grew wide. She watched as Sam struggled with his next words.

“(Y/N), I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

She spotted the dusty rose color flooding between his freckles. It made her brow crease to see him so pink. And a strange warmth grew in the pit of her stomach.

“I want to tell you how I…”

A squeal of laughter split through the air behind them. The pair of them broke apart and turned towards the noise. Scrambling down the path was a group of children, all barefoot and curly haired.

They screamed with laughter, “Miss. (Y/N)!” they cried, “Miss. (Y/N)!”

Sam backed away as the children surrounded the love of his life. That suffocating disappointment entangling itself with his overflowing heart.

“Good morning, my hobbits,” she said, picking up one toddler and placing them on her hip. “Are we ready for an adventure today?” She poked the child’s pink nose and relished in the giggle it produced.

Sam had a hand to his stomach, attempting to staunch the confession that had just begun to spill. “What’s all this?” The smile he gave was much more of a grimace.

“Our reinforcements,” (Y/N) replied, taking hold of another child’s hand. The look she gave Sam was rather sympathetic – she could see the frustration clear on his face.

“Well, then,” he sighed, “We’ve got flowers to pick, don’t we.” He opened his hands for a child and placed them on his shoulders.

(Y/N) watched him tromp onwards, leaving her to herd the remaining children. She gestured for them to follow as she caught up to her upset friend. She held the little hobbit on her hip as she asked, “You were saying, Sam?”

He barely reacted to her question, “Oh, nothing important. I’ve been looking into some available hobbit holes near Bagshot Row. I thought you might be interested in helping me look.”

(Y/N) had the thought he wasn’t being truthful. “Of course, Sam. Whatever you need.”

Attempt #5:

“(Y/N), I’m not sure about this.”

The hobbit in question was currently on the furthermost branches of a mighty oak tree. On her tip toes she reached for the birds nest above her.

“Almost there!”

Sam had his hands outstretched as if he could stop her from falling, “Let’s just get a ladder!”

She barely managed to tip the lost chick into its nest, “Got it!” Then a crack split beneath her feet, “Uh oh.”

The branch snapped in half, sending (Y/N) tumbling down. She squeaked and squealed as she barreled into each branch beneath her. She landed in a pile of leaves and twigs on the forest floor.

“Ow,” she grimaced.

“(Y/N)!” Sam yelled, meeting her at the base of the tree, “Are you alright?” He grabbed her hands and pulled her from the roots.

She winced, “Yeah, ow… I just fell out of a tree.”

“You did just fall out of a tree.” There was a smile in his voice, but his face was nothing but concern. “You’ve got a scrape right here.” He pointed at her shin.

(Y/N) sighed, pulling up her skirts to get a better look at her leg, “I have a feeling I’m going to have a few bruises tomorrow.”

Sam swallowed hard, pushing down her hands to release her skirts, “I’ve got some bandages in my gardening bag – stay right here.” And he went back to the forest path to reach his fallen tool kit, which he dropped upon seeing (Y/N) high up in a tree.

“You keep bandages with you?” (Y/N) laughed, spotting more cuts and scrapes on her limbs.

“I’ve cut myself a few too many times snipping roses,” Sam said, returning with some rolled cloth bandages. “I told you we should’ve gotten a ladder.”

(Y/N) watched him kneel beside her, “Maybe I should listen to you more.” The warmth that started a few weeks ago began to simmer again. For a while now she had the suspicion that there was something Sam wasn’t telling her.

Sometimes she’d catch him staring at her at The Green Dragon. And at the marketplace. And while walking through Hobbiton. He was always quick to look away, grabbing the nearest object to distract himself.

The funniest instance being when he grabbed a drying fish and was harassed by the seller to pay for whatever he touched immediately.

“I’m listening now,” (Y/N) said quietly, watching him gently wrap cloth around her leg. “No more interruptions.”

Sam paused and in doing so revealed how shaky his hands were against her skin. “There does seem to be the annoying habit of interruptions whenever we’re together.”

She gave a short laugh, “Yes. It’s unfortunate.”

He tucked the bandage, grazing her ankle as he pulled away, “Why unfortunate?”

“Because I do so love when it’s just us together.”

The speed with which he stood caused his curls to bounce, “You…” He stared at her with lights shining in his eyes, his brows flown into his hairline.

(Y/N) felt her heart pinch. But his enthusiasm fell instantly.

He let out a breath before tilting his head down, suddenly serious by the line that developed between his eyebrows. “You don’t mean that.”

(Y/N) gave a second of pause before gasping a laugh, “Of course I mean it. And I wish you would believe it.”

He gave a shy smile, “You’ve always been so kind.”

“Sam,” she said softly, “Saying that isn’t a kindness. I’m saying that because it’s true.” She reached for his hand, taking a step forward. But putting all her weight on one leg sent a shock of pain through her body. “Oh!”

Sam caught her outstretched arm and kept her steady, “Woah, I’ve got you. That fall got you good.”

“Just a bit,” she hissed a laugh, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Would it be terrible to ask you to walk me home?”

His mind was narrowing in on her hand around him, but he managed to say, “No, I was going to offer to walk you anyway.”

She smiled though the crease in her brow suggested she was still in pain. “I don’t believe I’ll be getting out of bed tomorrow.”

Sam chuckled, threading his own arm around her waist, “Then I shall bring you breakfast.”

“Really?”

They began to hobble back towards the path and to Sam’s gardening kit. “And second breakfast. And elevensies, if my cooking’s up to scratch.” He took pride in making her smile despite the limping.

“Might as well include luncheon and afternoon tea.”

“I make a delicious pepper-crusted steak with garlic potatoes. I could bring that for dinner.”

“And I can simmer rabbit stew for supper,” she laughed, “I can’t have you cooking all day.”

Sam grinned, though his heart tugged, “I don’t suppose you’ll have your mother to take care of you.”

“Yes,” (Y/N) said, holding onto him for support, “But I’d still like you to come see me.”

And while Sam kept her upright, thinking desperately for a way to pour out his pent up feelings, he dreamed of the perfect time.

A time when she wasn’t hurt.

“I’ll be there,” he said, thinking of what he’d say once she felt better. Of how she’d jump into his arms and hold him tightly. Of how she’d return the sentiment with joy and love in her eyes. Of how he’d lean in, and she’d kiss him so willingly.

It was suddenly very warm – the space between them burning.

Attempt #6:

Sam was still pursuing his endeavor to find a hobbit hole of his own. It had been difficult when the real deciding factor was whether or not (Y/N) liked the home.

And now, as he sat in the sparsely furnished living room with a for sale sign in the round window, he stared at the fireplace. He was imagining beautiful things. Impossible things.

The logs lit and simmering a pot of cranberries, orange slices, and cinnamon sticks. An old bowl of stew meat and vegetables sat beside him from supper. Festive corn stalks and wheat bundles decorated the windowsill. The fall harvest was just around the corner.

And he could see the kitchen table laden with pumpkins – the insides out and prepped for pies. A tray with dozens of pumpkin seeds ready to be roasted sat next to the spiced apple cider.

When he closed his eyes he could almost hear the patter of little hobbit feet. Could almost hear their squeals of laughter and pleas to help plant the root vegetables. Carrots and turnips and radishes.

He opened his eyes, chin resting in his hand. When he looked to his right there was another chair, pushed to the side when the other owners moved out. The tug of his heart made him rise to move the armchair adjacent to his.

It was plush and sage green. Complimentary of the burnt orange chair he occupied.

When he retook his seat, and peered at the other, the tugging on his heart imagine more beautiful, dreamy things.

(Y/N) sat there, cross stitching a pattern into a woven fabric. She thread her needle with strands the color of red wine. She hummed one of her bar tunes as she continued the pattern of a round hobbit door, surrounded by all the things that grow.

She was rosy and content and subtly smiling like she was the happiest she could ever be.

Sam stared and stared as a burning crept up his throat.

He wanted it bad. Really bad. Everything he saw in his head. The feeling of (Y/N) by his side – sharing the space – making it a home.

He couldn’t stand the burning any longer. He launched himself from the chair and through the red wine door. He skid past the picket fence and down the dirt road.

He mumbled frantic words of love and dreams. Local hobbits out for an evening stroll jumped out of his way as he stumbled past. He leaned over the edges of the road to collect flowers along the way, arranging them as he practiced his speech.

The same speech he’d been working on for months now.

It was clearly an act of desperation, he realized. But he was miserable – completely and utterly miserable. And the only one that could put him out of his misery was (Y/N).

He was desperate for (Y/N).

And within minutes he stood stone cold in her front garden. The sun was quickly setting, near twilight. The tall grasses and feather reeds became illuminated by fireflies, twinkling their silent support.

He could’ve sworn the frogs were singing in the nearby pond and the clouds turned lilac and blossom pink to encourage a beautiful evening. He sought the comfort of the flowers trembling in his hands.

And a split second too late he noticed the front window glowing with candlelight, the curtains drawn, with (Y/N) watching him.

Worry was plain in her face as she went for the door. “Sam?” She had a shawl around her shoulders, and she pulled it closer as she stepped into the garden. “You’ve been standing there for five minutes.”

“Have I?” It sounded like he was out of breath, “I’m sorry.”

She attempted to smile past the worry, “That’s alright. Is something the matter?”

The candlelight from inside was illuminating her figure, making Sam’s heart hammer, “Um… yes, something’s the matter. It has been for months now. Maybe even years.”

“Goodness, Sam,” she muttered, “That’s quite a problem you have.”

He nodded, “And the only hope I have is you.”

“Me?” (Y/N) said, “How can I help?”

He suddenly remembered the flowers in his hand, “Oh – I, uh… picked these for you.” He thrust them into her hands and noticed regretfully how the stems were bent where his fingers clutched at them. “And I have something to say.”

She preened and picked through the flowers, deciding to rest them against the doorframe, “What is it, Sam?” she asked softly.

He felt like he was choking on his own tongue. He paused – waiting for her mother to interrupt or friends to intervene or children to distract – but nothing came to stop him. “It’s funny, I’ve been practicing this talk for months and I still can’t get it out right.”

(Y/N) watched him warmly, silently encouraging him as the crickets began to play their nightly tune.

“Do you remember last Yuletide when it snowed? It rarely snows in the Shire and the few times it has it’s gotten so cold the Brandywine freezes. And the last Yule days were just full of fear. Fear for a frozen winter. Fear for wandering timber wolves. Fear for festivities canceled because of the weather. But you know the one thing that wasn’t full of fear?” He smiled like he was seeing something faraway, “You.”

“While everyone fought for firewood and yarn to knit blankets – you were dancing in the snow.” His face felt hot, “You were catching snowflakes with your mittens. You were teaching children to ice skate. You were selling hot chocolate and peppermint candy. And it was so refreshing.”

“I remember,” (Y/N) whispered.

“I had volunteered to make a supper for families in need, and while peeling dozens of potatoes you came to my door,” he laughed, “You came with pink cheeks and chattering teeth and brushing snowflakes out of your hair. ‘Hello, Mr. Samwise’ you said, ‘How many hobbits does it take to peel a town’s worth of potatoes?’ and I said, ‘One Miss. (Y/N) – I’m very good at peeling potatoes. But I wouldn’t mind a visit.’”

(Y/N) laughed with him, “That was a good night.”

“It was,” Sam cleared the emotion from his throat. “It was such a lovely night. And while it snowed, and the wind blew, and the townsfolk grumbled… we drank apple cider and laughed until we cried. I never stopped thinking about that night. How we juggled apples and told wild stories and stuck cinnamon sticks in our hair.”

(Y/N) nodded, feeling the nostalgia pull at her.

“It was that night I knew I had to marry you.”

She became still, not even drawing a breath.

Sam eyed her tentatively, “I knew I needed to keep you in my life. Because if life with you could be snowflakes and cinnamon and laughter and warmth, then I wanted it.” His shoulders felt heavy, “From that night on I did everything I could to show you I could be the one. That though I’m not the perfect choice, I would do anything for you. Because just being next to you makes me happier than I ever thought possible.”

“Sam,” she whispered, “That was almost a year ago. For a year you’ve been trying to… court me?”

“I was just trying to show you that you wouldn’t regret giving me a chance. But the last month or so I’ve wanted to come right out and say it. But no matter the circumstance, there was always someone or something interrupting us.”

(Y/N) had a few fingers over her mouth, “Sam, is this a marriage proposal?”

He was staring at her with wide eyes, “It can just be a proposal of courtship?”

It was a few seconds of tense silence. Sam could feel everything he had riding on this next response. (Y/N) finally removed her hand from her mouth, and she was… smiling.

“Yes,” she said.

Sam blinked a few times, “Yes to… to which proposal?”

“Yes!” she cried, flinging her shawl aside and bounding from the door. She wrapped herself around Sam and if it weren’t for the garden fence beside them, they would’ve toppled over. “To whichever – to whatever you want now – to both!”

Sam was choking on his own laughs, holding onto her with the warmest sense of relief, “I love you, (Y/N). I don’t want to go a single day more without you knowing that I love you.” It was pouring out of him, positively overflowing – the warmth and happiness that came as he held her.

She leaned away, fingers finding the curls on the back of his head, “I love you, Samwise Gamgee. I think I have for a while now. Not quite since Yuletide,” she laughed, “But maybe since picking flowers for the Old Took’s party.”

And she pulled him in and kissed him.

~~~

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