#so what do we have. bilbo baggins. the eye of sauron. some manner of forest spirit. Tumblr posts
thedreadvampy · 1 year ago
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Halloween in November?
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it's more likely than you think
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maaaddiexo · 4 years ago
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Birthday Encounters | Legolas Greenleaf
Mainlist | Serieslist
Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x fem!reader
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“Aragorn!”
Strong arms wrapped around her waist as her friend of countless years lifted her and spun her in circles.
“Y/N! It has been far too long.” The King placed Y/N back on her feet in his home.
Y/N nodded. “I agree. Thank you for the invitation.”
Aragorn gave Y/N a kind smile and gestured for them to walk. “Of course. How have you been?”
Y/N smiled. “Good. I have been helping the Ents repair their land since Saruman’s destruction of Fangorn Forest. Did you get my wedding present? I heard Arwen enjoyed jewelry-making in her spare time.”
Aragorn smiled. “Yes, she loves it.” He was upset Y/N could not make their wedding and considered postponing it just so that she could attend. But being so ill, they had no idea when she would be well enough to attend. “What else have you been doing?”
Y/N shook her head. “Traveling. Relaxing. You know that fight took more out of me than I ever got back.”
Aragorn nodded. “Somehow, I always forget you fought in the Battle of the Five Armies all those years ago. Perhaps because you never speak of it.”
Y/N smiled sadly. “Well, there’s nothing good to speak of. Perhaps if there was, I would talk more of it.”
Aragorn frowned. “Sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”
Y/N looked over the balcony they had stopped at, seeing Arwen talking to two elves she did not recognize. Not that she knew many to begin with. “It’s alright.”
“Come, Lady Y/N. I am sure you’ve missed Arwen.”
As they descended the stairs, Y/N said, “I’m not a Lady. You know that.”
“You are in my eyes. But don’t let Arwen hear that.”
Y/N laughed as they reached the bottom of the stairs, catching the attention of Aragorn’s wife, Arwen.
“Y/N!” The elf exclaimed happily, reaching forward to grab her arms. The woman had become used to the customs of men and women while married to Aragorn and moved to hug Y/N, a custom most elves did not engage in. As Arwen had put it years ago, elves did not like to touch people they were not close to.
“Arwen! I have missed you, my friend.”
Arwen, who looked like she had not aged a day, smiled in agreement. “The last time I saw you-”
“I looked horrible,” Y/N laughed. “Hopefully, I look much better now.”
Arwen smiled. “Much better.”
“Arwen? Are you not going to introduce us to your friend?” The two elves waited expectantly behind the dark-haired elf. Both were fair-skinned with braided silver hair. The one who spoken was a young girl, though it was hard to tell just how old she was.
Arwen smiled. “This is Y/N. She and Aragorn met when Sauron tried to regain power. She has been a friend ever since.”
The two elves gave short bows. “And this is Selina and Legolas. Sindar elves.”
Mirkwood elves, Y/N realized. And the name Legolas rang a bell. “You are the son of Thranduil.”
Legolas nodded but displayed a slightly sour face. “And Seline is my guard. She goes wherever I go and has become quite a close companion to Arwen and Aragorn.”
Y/N smiled at Seline, who did not talk much. Both were ethereal in their elven beauty, practically glowing. Y/N felt ugly in their presence – but that was what most non-elves felt. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”
“I assume Aragorn’s birthday brings you here as well?”
Y/N nodded. “Considering I missed their wedding, it was the least I could do.”
Aragorn sighed. “For the last time, we do not blame you. You made great sacrifices on the Lonely Mountain. It is not your fault you get sick often.”
Y/N looked away in shame.
“Oh, leave her be, Aragorn. You know how stubborn she can be. More stubborn than that red-bearded friend of yours, Gimli.”
“Seline!” A small girl appeared from the west hall, reaching the she-elf’s waist. “You’re back!”
The elf smiled and bent down, whispering something in the little girl’s ear before being towed down the hall to an unknown location. The little girl barely dodged the incoming servant, dressed in purple and gold thread.
“My Lord and Lady, the advisors need to speak with you. Urgently.”
Aragorn sighed and reached for his love. “We will be right there. Y/N? Do you mind showing Legolas around? He has not visited since the attack.”
Y/N chanced a glance at the elven prince before nodding. “Of course. Does that include the wine cellar?”
Aragorn playfully flicked his friend’s nose. “You stay out of there. You drink like a dwarf.”
“I take that as a compliment!” Y/N yelled as the duo followed after the servant. Once they were out of sight and earshot, she turned to Legolas. “Shall we start at the wine cellar?”
•••
“And that’s it,” Y/N said, stopping where they had started. She hid her pain well, casually leaning against a stone pillar to relieve some of the pressure in her lungs.
“They have expanded since I was last here,” Legolas mused, taking in the almost-elvish architecture. Then again, Aragorn had spent a lot of his live in Rivendell. Legolas looked back at Y/N, who seemed to have trouble breathing. Her chest expanded roughly, stuttering as her eyes watered. “Are you alright, My Lady?”
Y/N forced a laugh. “Why does everyone call me that? I’m not a Lady.”
“You look like one.” Legolas looked an elf caught off guard, which was a rare thing to behold. His fair cheeks flushed slightly and he looked away momentarily before speaking again, this time much faster. “You seem to have trouble breathing.”
Y/N waved him off. “It’s nothing, really. It’ll pass soon enough.”
“What is ‘it’?”
Y/N sighed. “A long time ago, I used to live in Lake-town. I lived there when Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins woke the dragon, Smaug, and he burned my home. The smoke damaged my lungs. I have struggled to breathe since but exercise makes it worse. I don’t expect an elf like you to understand. I know your kind never tires.”
Legolas squinted at Y/N. Her ears were round and her skin was not flawless but…there was something about her. The way she carried herself. “You have elven blood in you.”
Y/N was surprised. Most people didn’t notice the drop of elf in her. “Yes. One of ancestors was elvish. Though, I inherited nothing but prolonged aging and the ability to jump.”
Legolas felt himself smile at the news. There were few of his kin left in Middle-Earth. And halfling or not, she counted.
“Do you know any elvish?”
Y/N shook her head, still trying to catch her breath and stay the pain deep in her lungs. “No. Aragorn tried to teach me but it just doesn’t sound-” Y/N couldn’t finish her sentence, interrupted by a coughing fit. She bent over the railing, coughing and trying to catch her breath. Something touched her back – Legolas, she realized. She waved him off. “Just give me a moment. This damned corset makes matters so much worse.”
“Corset?”
Y/N nodded and something was brought to her lips. Legolas’ waterjug. She drank eagerly until the rough burn in her throat was soothed. “Thank you. And, yes. My mother insisted I wear a corset because it is what women do these days.” Y/N harrumphed at that and Legolas laughed.
“Is your mother here?”
“No, she stayed with my father back home to work on our farm.”
“Then why not loosen it? Or lose it entirely?”
“You make it sound like disobeying a parent’s order is easy.”
“I know for a fact that it isn’t,” Legolas said firmly. “But doing what you desire is freeing. Even if it means just losing a corset.”
“Legolas! Y/N!” Aragorn and Arwen appeared at the end of the hallway before Y/N could say anything. “Dinner is in an hour.”
Y/N smiled and Arwen moved forward. “Let’s get you changed, my friend.”
Y/N let herself be dragged off to her friend’s chambers where Arwen searched through the wardrobe, stopping on a pale blue dress with an attached cape and gold ringlets at the shoulders.
“Perfect.”
Arwen braided Y/N’s hair in a signature elvish braid, pulling it back to reveal her perfectly round ears. “I sense Aragorn and I interrupted something between you and Legolas back in the main entryway.”
Y/N shook her head softly. “He just said something, is all.”
“You’ve got the furrow in your brow you always get when you think too hard. Did his words bother you? He is from Mirkwood. They don’t have the best manners.”
“No, not at all,” Y/N assured as they moved to the door. It was almost time for the birthday feast to begin. “He just said something…eye-opening.”
“An elf? Saying something wise? How odd.”
Y/N laughed as they approached the garden. Legolas, Seline, Aragorn, and red-bearded dwarf were waiting for them. The human and two elves had changed, and Aragorn now wore his signature crown. He looked like a king. Arwen left Y/N’s side to join her husband’s.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just your wife finally grasping human humour. She’s become quite good at it.”
Aragorn rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. Y/N, this is Gimli. I’ve told you about him.”
Y/N curtsied. “I have heard plenty about you. Pleasure to finally meet you.”
Gimli touched his heart like an elf would. “The pleasure is all mine, Milady.”
“Why do people keep saying that?”
Gimli stuttered. He was expecting a thank you, not an argument. “W-well…you look like a princess.”
Y/N glanced at Legolas from the corner of her eye in amusement. He was already staring at her. “People keep saying that too.”
Aragorn chuckled and the two humans shared a look. The other four looked between the two humans as their eyebrows furrowed and raised and, finally, Y/N stuck out her tongue childishly.
“Something is happening that I do not understand,” Gimli finally said.
Legolas, who did not take his eyes off the two, said, “Me neither.”
“Shall we go in?” Aragorn said. “The little ones are already inside.”
“You mean the Hobbits you always talk about in your letters? Y/N asked eagerly.
Aragorn chuckled. “Yes. I will introduce you.”
“May I escort you to our table’ Milady?”
Y/N smiled at Gimli and nodded, slipping her hand around his upper bicep. Legolas and Seline followed behind them. The vines parted to reveal a garden from a fairytale. People were chatting loudly and small children ran around their parents’ feet. Ahead, four small men were already seated at the head table and turned to see them arrive.
“Legolas! Gimli!”
Y/N moved away so that the six could rejoice, looking for her place at the table. Her name was written in beautiful Elven cursive and knew Arwen had written it. Her name was between Legolas’ and Aragorn’s and she felt comfort in that. Though she wasn’t sure why Legolas’ proximity had an effect on her. Y/N moved to walk around the garden, examining all the details that had been considered for Aragorn’s ninetieth birthday.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Y/N turned to see Legolas had approached her. She was standing by the wall of well-wishes, where guests wrote notes for the birthday boy.
“Yes. Arwen did a wonderful job of combining both human and Elvish customs. I’m sure Aragorn will be quite overjoyed when they finally come in.”
“May I escort you back to our table?”
Y/N stared at Legolas’ outreached arm, waiting for her take it as she took Gimli’s. “I was under the impression that Elves did not touch people outside their loved ones?”
“You are correct,” Legolas smiled humbly. “But humans do. Besides, I spent plenty of time with the Hobbits, Gimli, and Aragorn while fighting Sauron. I do not stick as strictly to Elven customs as I once did.”
Y/N smiled. “In that case,” she wrapped her arm around Legolas’ bicep. “I would love to be escorted. Perhaps…we could dance later too?”
“Mirkwood elves don’t really dance,” Legolas admitted. “But a few years back Gimli introduced me to drinking games. I’m quite good at those.”
Y/N laughed. “I’ll take your word for it and pass on that offer. I’ve heard elves cheat at them. But we could sit and talk.” They were at the table now. “Arwen and Aragorn have told me all about Rivendell but I know very little of Mirkwood.”
Legolas bowed. “You have an accord.”
The night was filled with laughter, spilt ale, and dancing. Pippin and Merry had been up on a random table for the past thirty minutes, singing as their mugs of ale were continuously filled.
Nyx’s stomach hurt from laughing so long and hard and was grateful her dress didn’t have a corset. Her lungs began to ache and she reached for a goblet of water in hopes of staying the oncoming coughing fit.
“You should try marshmallow root,” said Legolas suddenly. He and Y/N were the only two at the table, retelling stories of their past and laughing at their friends. “It will not heal your lungs, but it will soothe your throat.”
“Does nothing get past your eyes?”
“Well,” Legolas smiled. “Elves do have excellent eyesight.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I see you’re catching on to human humour as well. Do you know any jokes of ours?”
Legolas smiled. “Gimli once told me one. Are you ready? Okay. What hangs at a man’s thigh and wants to poke the hole it’s poked before? And I’ll give you a hint. It is not what you think it is.”
Y/N squinted. “It’s a dwarf joke? The answer must be inappropriate somehow.”
“I can assure you it is not.”
“What is it then?”
“A key.”
Y/N laughed, though she found it be less funny and more of a riddle. She did not want to hurt Legolas’ feelings.
“Now tell me something about your culture. Humans never cease to amaze me.”
“What do you want to know?”
“You commented on how elves treat loved ones. I know Aragorn is human but he was raised in Rivendell. What are your customs?”
“My father always kisses my mother on the cheek. And whenever either of them leaves the house, they tell the other they love them. And my mother often falls asleep on my father in sitting room when he reads.”
“Was he boring?”
“What?”
“She fell asleep on him when he read. Was he boring?”
Y/N laughed. “No, not at all. He was very good at telling stories, actually. And my mother always says that falling asleep on his shoulder is when she gets the best sleep. Because she’s close to him.”
“How is that comfortable? How does that even work?” Legolas laughed. Y/N could see he was trying to imagine it in his head.
“Like this.” Carefully, so as not to cross too many of Legolas’ boundaries, she moved closer to Legolas and slouched in her seat, gently resting her head on his shoulder. “And my father would read chapter after chapter. Tell story after story. And my mother would fall asleep on his shoulder and I would fall asleep in front of the fireplace.”
Legolas smiled, watching his friends dance together as a beautiful girl rested on his shoulder. “I understand now. This is nice.”
“So nice I may not move,” Y/N joked.
Legolas touched Y/N’s hand beneath the round table. “So don’t.”
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