#when did thranduil first hear the gulls?

[rainintheevening]

It's nearly midnight and I am wide awake stewing over Legolas and Thranduil and all the question marks Tolkien leaves, send help.

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Shopping For Clothes Fixes Everything (Legolas and Frodo)

Synopsis: Frodo is underdressed for Aragorn’s coronation, Legolas is generally well-known for being a hot-cake, so he helps his little hobbit friend out. Also Merry, Sam and Pippin can now blame Legolas for mentioning sailing west to Frodo, and planting the idea in his angsty mind.

AN: Frodo and Legolas did not have enough time together onscreen, therefore my imagination can decide whatever it wants, and I decide they’re best friends who enjoy trees and shopping together. Also they’re prolly gay for each other, it’s whatever.

Warnings: Woah, Nelly—careful where you step. There’s some gay sprinkled in.

Pairings: Legolas/Frodo (kinda platonic, kinda gay. Idk you decide)

All had been invited to attend Aragorn’s coronation in Gondor—or, ‘Strider’, as Frodo once knew him. Each and every member of the Fellowship was expected to attend, for no reason other than the honouring of their forged friendship made along the perilous roads to Mordor.

Nobody was an exception to this expectation, so when Frodo arrived in the white streets of Gondor, he was very pleased to be reunited with all his friends.

Now, there was a certain level of dress code to be upheld at royal coronations, apparently. The hobbits, of course, had no warning of this. Instead, they had showed up with nothing but their daily scrubs from the Shire—their finest clothing, mind you, but still too casual in the presence of elves and royalty alike.

Stopping before his reflection in a shiny podium, Frodo sighed. He still wore his Shire clothing, and looked rather out of place among the silk, leather and other rich materials he passed by. At least he was shorter than the hems of some robes, he supposed.

Stopping before his reflection in a shiny podium, Frodo sighed. He still wore his Shire clothing, and looked rather out of place among the silk, leather and other rich materials he passed by. At least he was shorter than the hems of some robes, he supposed.

Alas, he knew he needed to appear his best.

The more and more Frodo scrutinised his casual appearance in the shiny podium, the more others in his mind contrasted against him. He needed help with clothing—preferably from someone adept in the aesthetic department.

Only one friend came to mind.

Frodo knocked gently against the large door to the room he knew was loaned to Legolas. It, too, like his own, was large and spacious inside. A balcony overlooked all of Gondor, and shiny was the room—a most pure in white, too.

There was hardly any sound of shuffling on the other side of the door, before it soundlessly opened. Legolas stood in the doorway, and stared ahead with a curiously expectant expression.

However, when he found no one facing him, memories of the Fellowship caused him to lower his head three feet above ground. There, he met Frodo’s eyes.

“Oh, hello,” said Legolas. “I was expecting someone—”

“Taller?” Frodo jested back. A smile quirked on his lips.

Humour, too, ran along Legolas’ features, as he stepped aside to let his friend in. “Perhaps, but you said it first—not me.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“Careful now—there are ears everywhere in Gondor, even if they don’t belong to elves,” Legolas said in amusement. “People eavesdrop and make assumptions.”

“Sounds like the Shire,” Frodo responded in amusement.

Using his foot, Legolas closed the door. “I have been meaning to make plans to visit the Shire, but Gandalf and Gimli have warned me of the confusing roads leading in.”

Chuckling loudly in a light-hearted manner, Frodo sat down at a table for tea in the near-centre of Legolas’ room. “Forgive me, but I always assumed you were the better navigator between Aragorn and yourself?”

Reaching for teabags high up on a shelf, Legolas looked over his shoulder and winced his teeth. “I might have exaggerated my abilities, just a little.”

“Just a little,” Frodo agreed, smiling a toothy smile nonetheless, with a little nod of his head.

“Alas, perhaps I’ll just have to return with you, Sam, Merry and Pippin after the coronation,” Legolas pressed on, now walking back to the table. “I definitely will not get lost that way.”

“You mentioned Pippin,” Frodo deadpanned. “Getting side-tracked is a guarantee.”

“Ah, well, then another adventure!” Legolas proclaimed. He now sat himself down, and passed a dainty teacup along to Frodo.

“Oh, please, no more adventures,” Frodo groaned, with his head buried into the crook of his elbow.

Legolas, with his quick eye, took notice of Frodo’s hand reaching up to his neck, as if to grasp at the ring. Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, Legolas cleared his throat. He, too, forced the lingering memories of Mordor down, as he poured the lemon-scented tea.

Those days had not yet readily left anyone, nor would for a long time.

“Perhaps not…” Legolas agreed.

Lifting his eyes, Frodo smiled at his friend. He took the tea from Legolas, and watched the leaves swirl around in his cup.

“Regardless,” he piped up, “what have you been doing since our completion?”

“Well,” Legolas readily inhaled, looking upwards in thought, “let’s see—as of right now, I am currently representing my kingdom for Aragorn’s coronation—per my Ada’s wishes, of course.”

“Of course,” Frodo grinned back, finding amusement in Bilbo’s stories of being captured by Thranduil.

“And beyond that,” Legolas continued, “well…I was hoping to restore the trees of Ithilien, actually. They need much tending to after, well…you know.”

“I do.” Frodo nodded his head. “That’s rather exciting for you, then? Isn’t it? Working with trees? A passion of yours, truly.”

“It is.” Legolas shrugged. “If I can be completely honest, though?”

“I’m all ears,” Frodo teased, leaning with his arms folded over the table.

Legolas grinned back at his friend’s antics, before continuing on. “I saw a gull flying overhead today, and I know this may sound a little odd, but…”

“Go on,” Frodo slowly encouraged, now enthralled by his friend’s words.

“Well, I couldn’t help but feel the desire to sail west,” he revealed at last, as if confessing his darkest secret.

“Sail west?” Frodo inquired.

“Yes, to Valinor,” Legolas explained. “When the weight of Middle-earth grows too much, my kin are free to travel to our origins. It heals both the heart and mind, so they say.”

“Oh, really?” Frodo pressed deeper. “That sounds rather ideal…will you go?”

Legolas shrugged again. “I’m not too sure at the present moment. I suppose I will one day, but…all of my friends are still here—my life. Perhaps one day, as I do believe it is inevitable, but not anytime soon.”

“I am a little jealous, to be perfectly honest,” Frodo confessed in return.

“How so?” Legolas pressed, taking the first sip of his tea.

“Of your choice,” he replied. “To heal the heart and mind overseas—I wish I had that option.”

Legolas threw his eyes down at the table in thought, and thrummed his fingers against his mug. “You know, Frodo—your sacrifice with Sauron’s Ring goes beyond what any other in Middle-earth has done, let alone any elf.”

At his friend’s words, Frodo knitted his brows. “What are you saying, Legolas?”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” Legolas shook his head, with an allusive quirk of his lips, “but I know the Valar to be very…open, regarding these sorts of things. Perhaps a conversation with Gandalf could do you well?”

“Well, I don’t like your allusive tone, but I’ll heed your advice and speak with him after the coronation,” Frodo chuckled back.

“Well-met,” Legolas laughed in turn.

The two friends soon fell into a comfortable silence, until Legolas opted to break it again.

“So, I do not imagine you came to find me on the basis of our shared woes,” he said through a sip of tea. “What may I help you with, besides gracing you with my presence?”

“Oh, elves,” Frodo replied, wistfully. “So beautiful, and so vain—which is actually precisely why I came to find you.”

“Pray tell,” Legolas smirked, leaning back in his chair.

Catching his friend’s pride, Frodo shook his head and grinned. Trust Prince Legolas to know his worth, Frodo mused.

“You see, no body informed me of the expected attire at Aragorn’s coronation,” Frodo went on. “I’ve merely arrived in my Sunday vest, and best trousers—”

“Uh, I don’t think any of my garments will fit you, Frodo,” Legolas interjected, with a glance over his shoulder eyeing off his silver robes.

“No, I know that,” Frodo rolled his eyes with a smile. “However, surely you, of all people, must know best how to help me in this regard?”

Turning his eyes back to his friend, Legolas quirked a brow. He narrowed his gaze, and analysed the hobbit. However, soon, a grin began to tug at Legolas’ lips.

He stood up in his chair, offered Frodo his hand, and spoke excitedly in confidence. “Say no more, mellon nîn. I have just the idea for you.”

Frodo returned his friend’s smile, took his hand, and allowed the elf to hoist him from his chair. “Well, thank you! But no satin, please!”

“Why must it always be you who wishes to suck the joy out of everything?”

“Oh, I’m sorry—did you carry an evil ring to Mordor?”

“No, but I had to run for three days-straight.”

“My sincere apologies.”

“It’s okay, shopping for clothes fixes everything.”

[ambarto]

Finwean Ladies Week Day Two: Lalwen

Headcanons again today, and this time I’d like to talk about my headcanons for Lalwen, which I think I have mentioned a little in the past but what better occasion than @finweanladiesweek to ramble about all my thoughts. I can tell you Lalwen is definitely one of my favorite characters to think about.

Lalwen was what we could call a biologist. She was fascinated with animals, and in particular with all the kinds of bugs, spiders, and various little creatures that crawl on the ground. She liked other animals too, although still of the small kind, and usually animals most people don’t overly like (think lizards, snakes, that kind of stuff). She maintained that those small and often unseen parts of the ecosystem were much more fascinating than the macroscopic world of large mammals and birds. She described many species, and while animals were her favorite field of study, she was also the first in Valinor to posit that mushrooms were not plants, which was a rather controversial statement at the time.

Out of all her siblings, she was the one who got along the best with Feanor. She was quick to brush off any unkind words he might say, and had a sharp enough tongue to put him back in his place. She actually rather enjoyed talking with him, as he was also a scholar, and could keep up with her discussions of the efficiency of spiderwebs even if it wasn’t really his field of study.

Regarding her other siblings, Lalwen’s favorite was Fingolfin. They argued a lot, but it was usually the kind of sibling spats that got forgotten quickly. He was always the most willing to engage with Lalwen’s interests, and to go with her on rides exploring Valinor. Findis and Finarfin, on the other hand, both had a fairly different temperament than Lalwen, and different interests too. While all four siblings loved each other, usually Findis and Finarfin stuck in one corner talking about one thing, while Fingolfin and Lalwen sat in another talking about something else.

Despite being a Princess, Lalwen’s presence in the politics of Valinor was almost non-existent. She learnt early on that all the occurrences of court didn’t interest her, and if she could avoid being present at any given occasion she did. Findis used to scold her sister much for this, calling her irresponsible, as she thought as members of the royal house it was their duty to engage with politics. Fingolfin, on the other hand, usually enabled his younger sister, thinking that there was no need for her to be as involved as the rest of their family.

Lalwen was always, and especially in her youth, a very restless spirit. Already as a child she was the kind of kid who was always outside and running around, and would hate having to be in the house for an entire day. Growing, she became that sort of girl who her parents almost never saw, so much she spent with her friends, and partying, and going on trips. And since she was old enough to travel on her own, she would so often take her horse and leave Tirion for days or weeks, or sometimes months too, to explore all there was to see in Valinor. It was because of this restlessness that she followed Fingolfin out of Valinor - the idea of an entire other continent she had never seen before was too big a temptation for her to stay behind, no matter how much her mother begged.

In Beleriand, she never had a land to rule over, because she never had any interest in ruling. Not only the various details and politics involved were things she had no interest into, but governing would also mean that she’d have to spend most of her time still in one place. For the most part, she made herself a home in Fingolfin’s lands, but would often travel around. It actually made her brother worry himself sick, as Lalwen had the tendency of leaving whenever and without sending letters or word of where she was, until six months later she would write him saying that she was staying in Himring for a while and also did Fingolfin know about this cool worm she had found?

She survived the Dagor Bragollach, but not easily. She was wounded on the field, and was carried out unconscious as Fingolfin’s forces retreated. She lost her hearing in one ear, and one of her legs was wounded in a way that left her with a heavy limp. The impaired mobility in particular wasn’t easy for her to deal with, as it made traveling so much harder. Not that she had much wish to entertain herself, not right after her brother had been killed. She remained in Fingon’s lands until the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, at which point she instead moved to the Falas with Cirdan, and later followed him to Balar. While she couldn’t fight on a battlefield, she had developed a great knowledge of poisons thanks to her studies on various venomous animals, and she helped develop cures for many of the poisons Morgoth used in his weapons.

After the War of Wrath, Lalwen decided she wouldn’t stay in Lindon under Gil-Galad. Part of the reason was that by then she had seen so many of her loved ones die that it brought her genuine pain to be around Gil-Galad and remember that he was almost all the family she had left, let alone have people call her ‘Princess’, as if the title meant anything by then. There was a loneliness in Lindon that could only be cured by being more alone, or at least, not with people who would constantly remind her of everything she had lost. But also, Lalwen’s desire to explore had never really stopped, and by then she had learnt how to deal with her disability, so she took a horse, and left.

Eventually, after much traveling, she realized that she was turning into an old lady, as Men said. She had traveled through all of Middle Earth, much of Harad, and had even decided to go look if she could Cuivienen a couple times, and she was growing tired of always being moving around. When she was a girl, that would have been the ideal, but after many thousands of years Lalwen found herself wishing to find a place to settle in. Not to mean that she would never travel again, just that she would have liked to have a nice house to go back to and rest, and know that there were people she knew waiting for her there. That being said, she also still wanted nothing to do with politics, not to mention that everyone else seemed to be handling things well, and she didn’t feel the need to upset any political balance with her reappearance. In the end, she decided to settle in Greenwood at some point during the Third Age. She did come clear to Thranduil about who she was, and he allowed her to stay so long as she did not cause trouble, which was alright by her. Other than him, very few people knew or suspected who the eccentric Noldo with a cane and a lot of opinions about taxonomical classifications was.

Lalwen had had through her life many romantic stories and affairs, and definitely more than many would deem appropriate for a Princess. With some Elven ladies, occasionally she’d fell in the bed of a mortal, and maybe once or twice in that of a Dwarf. The longer she lived the more she found old Valinorean ideas on marriage and courtship and so on rather stuffy. That being said, she had never really ruled out a wedding altogether, and the day she realized a Silvan hunter of Greenwood was starting to mean a lot to her, she decided maybe she was old enough to leave her amorous adventures behind and get herself a wife. Fortunately, her lady didn’t mind finding out that Lalwen was a mostly forgotten Noldor Princess, and Lalwen’s proposal was accepted with enthusiasm.

Eventually, Lalwen sailed back to the West with the Last Ship, together with Cirdan and Celeborn. She had seen as much of Middle Earth as there was to see, and while she did love the land, she had long since started thinking back about her homeland. Her wife, while not Eldar, had also started to get weary of a land that was more and more mortal and less and less suited for Elves, and decided that like many others of her people she also would have liked to follow the gulls.

Now, Findis, firstborn of Finwe and Indis, Princess of the Noldor, sister to the High King Arafinwe, known poet and debater, was as a general rule against violence, but when she saw her sister hop off a ship after six thousands years of no contact with a wife and apparently uncaring of having basically disappeared, her fist might have just happened to collide with Lalwen’s nose.