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#Legolas/reader
entishramblings · 6 months
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Watcher of Wanderers [Legolas/F!Reader]
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A.N: this was intended just to be a mini one-shot to get back into writing. although, I will admit I got carried away. oops. heh.
Pairing: Legolas X F!Reader
Song Inspo: Mountain Meditation by Chantress Seba
🌬️ I highly recommend listening while reading
Summary: Legolas senses a presence following the fellowship on their journey and it seems to be particularly fond of him.
Disclaimer: all mythology related to the reader was made up for plot purposes lol. not canon.
Word count: 5.6k (once again, idk why I’m like this)
Warnings: comfort, fluff, loneliness, flirting, suggested sexual innuendos, stalking sort of (yes, again, I know. you’re just gonna have to read it I can’t explain it)
Additional Content: moodboard linked here
MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD
When you are nothing but a breeze that passes through the travelers’ bending hair. When you are nothing but a tickle that brushes upon the vagabonds’ breaking skin. When you are nothing but a whisper that hisses upon the wanders’ deaf ear. When you are nothing but alone, you too are a voyager.
That’s what (Y/N) was, wasn’t she?
She sailed through the years, watching every war and every battle. She observed every lover as she observed every enemy. She attended to them all, from their start and to their end. She perceived them hunt—first for food and drink, the simplest things, then for more. She witnessed them build—smaller creations in the beginning, then large structures that reached deep into her sky. She gazed at them as they grew, in mind and body. They began as little screaming balls of flesh, then sprouted into large beings that walked and talked. They produced more of themselves. They multiplied. Families, they had called it. She saw each one of them go by, twisting with desire as they did with age. Each was sneaking to find something—riches, power, hope, love, safety—but it didn’t really matter. She just bore witness. She bore witness to the happiness and to the dread. Yet, even when it was dark and desperate, she did nothing. She was silent—as she was meant to be.
Cursed to ride the winds for all of her immortal years.
Cursed to guide them and bend them.
Cursed to behold them.
Cursed to be them.
Alone.
A Watcher of Wanderers.
She was unescorted, unattended, and unchaperoned. She was unaccompanied as she wove through the desolate lands of Arda. Through the oceans, through the deserts, through the mountains, she bent and bellowed. But (Y/N) didn’t need anyone to accompany her, for she simply didn’t exist—at least not in the way one would think.
But after so long in solidarity, watching and observing, (Y/N) wondered what it would feel like to be more than what she was. She wondered what it was to taste and touch, to smell and see, to live and breath.
She thought how pain must feel. How did it bring red to the surface of their skin? How did it bring tears to their eyes? How did it bring screams to their throats?
Still, she wandered more.
She thought how laughter must feel. How did it bubble in their chests? How did it bring water to their faces? How did it bring glee from their mouths?
Still, she wandered more.
She thought about how love must feel. How did it soften their gazes? How did it bring drops upon their cheeks? How did it bring proclamations to their lips? How did it feel to welcome in another soul? Was it safe—not that she would know what safety felt like.
Still, she wandered more.
As each day passed and each traveler followed, she continued to question, guess, inquire.
Some of these creatures were more in tune with the natural currents of the word. It was the immortal beings, distinguished by the pointy ears that lent them an air of otherworldly grace and their lightning-quick reflexes. They were not just any immortals, but those whose lineages stretched back to ancestors who had walked among the Valar themselves. At times, (Y/N) entertained the fantasizing notion that they possessed the rare ability to hear her, though she recognized that this belief was nothing more than wishful thinking. As a watcher of wanderers, she liked these ones best.
Yet that did not mean that others did not catch her eye, for she was curious of anything unusual from the regular patterns of life. And when nine—born of various blood—walked together, her curiosity peaked.
So, she followed them.
One was a Maiar, but not like her. He shared the same celestial origin, shaped as one of the spirits meant to aid the Valar in their worldbuilding endeavors. However, his form differed greatly from hers—a form (Y/N) yearned for. She had seen him many times before, puffing his pipe. He had many names, but most knew him as Gandalf.
Two more figures accompanied him, mortal beings aging like the rolling seasons. Burling and tumbling they went, with their countless heavy weapons. One emanated kindness, his heart a wellspring of warmth. She had seen him before too. But the other, he was….troubled.
Another was one of the immortal, graceful, pointy-eared race—elves, she recalled. He was fluid and elegantant. He was observant and evaluating. He was tranquil yet vigorous. (Y/N) liked this one. She always had liked the elves.
From the mountainous regions of unyielding stone came another companion—a burly and gruff figure. His anger resonated in the sharpness of his words and the boastry of his laughter. (Y/N) could feel his temperament through the earth's vibrations. It wasn't always pleasant
Next, matched four more. They were stompers and stumblers, in a clumsy sort of way; yet, it was evident that they held no desire to ravage the earth. If anything, they seemed to harbor deep affection for it. The sad one broke her heart, the kind one warmed her soul, and the last two made her giggle….and sometimes she thought the elf could hear it.
See that was the thing.
Initially, her fascination led her to accompany them, drawn by their sheer otherness—such a strange assembly of beings walking in unison. But as she ventured alongside them, she felt connected to them. She got to know them, and one seemed to know her….sorta.
The first time she noticed such a thing was when a sound of joy escaped her being.
The two silly ones, which she found out to be named Merry and Pippin, were cracking jokes at one another and performing a game of riddles. As they did so, they ended up breaking into an argument. The most ridiculous words they called each other: mushroom murderer, squash squisher, beet beater…..
She couldn’t help but release a whisper of amusement, and when she did, the elf—Legolas—abruptly halted. His eyes brimmed with uncertainty, and he swiveled his head, as though searching for someone.
But he couldn’t….
No…
He couldn’t have heard her….could he?
Of course, occasionally, all could hear her. In moments of anger, she would unleash her fury with deafening howls and piercing screams, causing gusts to bellow and trees to tremble. Her yell created a hollow sound as it funneled through the rest of the world—echoing upon mountains, bouncing off houses, riding along hills, drifting through the farmer’s mills. It took much frustration to create such a ruckus of vibrations. However, just a faint breath of joy? There was no way the elf could hear that….right?
…..
The second time that a strange encounter occurred was when the group stopped by a deep river. Legolas had wandered a little way away from the group where the trees were denser and the light was less, and oh of course (Y/N) followed.
There, the elf stripped off his clothing, letting the moonlight bend and dip upon his muscled form. The cool night air played gently against his bare skin as he ventured into the water, welcoming the invigorating sensation. With his hands, he meticulously scrubbed away any lingering grime, running his palms across his arms and fingers through his damp hair until no trace of dirt remained.
Gently, he laid upon his back, floating at the surface of the smooth river.
(Y/N) watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and repeatedly. Meditation, she recalled the elvish creatures of the world calling it.
Eager to draw nearer, (Y/N) gracefully glided closer, brushing ever so lightly upon the surface of the ripples. She circled him, her gaze drinking in every detail of his form slightly obstructed by the water—his elegant facial features, his sleek hair, his sculpted biceps, his toned abs, the sharp v-line of his lower abdomen, and, she couldn't help but notice his rather large…
A soft giggle escaped her lips, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.
Instantly, Legolas sprang upright, his feet finding a place upon the rocks beneath the now turbulent ripples. He swiftly pivoted, calling out, “Who’s there?!”
(Y/N) was still, shock and uncertainty shrouding her.
Legolas' cerulean eyes darted anxiously from side to side, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He moved with haste, continually spinning around in search of…..something.
“You…you can hear me?” (Y/N) whispered.
He did not respond and his state did not change. There was not an ounce of any recognition across his features.
…..
The third time that Legolas was startled by the curious enigma that appeared to be haunting him was when the fellowship had set up camp for the night.
Gandalf and Legolas were on watch, their attentive gazes shifting from the crackling fire to the perimeters of their camp. Mithanduil contentedly puffed on his pipe, releasing wisps of smoke that ascended into the night sky. Legolas was methodically sharpening the tips of his arrows, preparing for the inevitable fight. The ambiance was strangely peaceful, with the imminent dangers appearing to be held at bay, at least for the moment, even in the face of the dread.
However, this serene atmosphere suffered a sudden intrusion, initiated by (Y/N)'s ever-present curiosity.
She loved watching the creatures of Arda. It was her favorite pastime over the eons. Well, her only pastime. After all, she was a watcher of wanderers. For, as her shapeless form, there was nothing more she could do with her existence.
Therefore, when the elf began to draw whetstone upon the tops of his arrows, (Y/N) wanted to observe. She crept closer to him, becoming entranced by the rhythmic and tranquil nature of his movements. Drawn into the spectacle, she leaned in further and further until, unintentionally, she brushed lightly against his form.
His hand instinctively reached for his shoulder as his wide cerulean blues initiated their frequent and fervent scanning of the dim surroundings—a routine that seemed to be occurring with increasing regularity nowadays.
Gandalf’s gray eyes drifted upon the elf curiously, his bushy brows lifting in questions.
“I swore…” Legolas began, still peering about the campsite. “I swore I felt…something.”
The wizard’s inquiring gaze only deepened, imploring the elf to add more to his rather empty statement.
Noticing Gandalf's unspoken request for more information, Legolas continued, "My apologies, Mithranduil. Lately, I've been sensing a presence. Yet, when I search for it, I'm met with nothing but emptiness and confusion."
Gandalf huffed before pressing his lips to his pipe again, his gaze drifting away in a dismissal of danger. “It is probably just (Y/N).”
“(Y/N)?” He questioned, still puzzled.
Gandalf glanced at Legolas, and with a nonchalant hum, he spoke again. “The spirit of the wind. A Maiar with a form that knows no shape.” He rolled his eyes as he gruffed out an additional mumbling sentence. “She has a particular fondness for elves.”
Legolas, still flushed with adrenaline, only stared at him. “I—I do not understand.”
The wizard’s gray gaze drifted back to the elf, who was clearly seeking answers. “(Y/N) is one of the Maiar, tasked many ages ago by Manwë to help shape Arda. She still lingers in this realm, often stirring up her usual mischief as she follows wanderers on their adventures."
Legolas frowned. “If she wanders this earth, why can I see her not?”
Gandalf drew another puff from his pipe before responding, "She was cursed to be without form, unlike myself."
“Cursed? But why?”
The wizard raised his bushy brows once more. “Her mischief irked many—especially Manwë.”
“What sorts of mischief do you speak of?”
Gandalf shrugged. “Inconsequential pranks and harmless tricks. Quite frankly, an annoyance to us all, but not dangerous.”
At that very moment, a gust of wind swept in rather forcefully, causing the wizard's beard to billow and lifting his hat into the air, sending it spiraling down to land by his feet.
Legolas's lips parted in surprise as the wind subsided, and Gandalf let out a string of curses and grumbles.
"I believe you might have offended her," Legolas remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
The wizard snorted, his irritation obvious, as he picked his hat up and placed it atop his head once more.
….
As the weeks continued on, Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s subtle presence.
It seemed she was indeed traveling with them. On scorching hot days, a refreshing breeze would rise and caress them gently, offering some much-needed relief. As the autumn months settled in, that coolness transformed into a warm breath flowing through the air, comforting them. When they kindled fires, little gusts rushed forward, providing oxygen and nurturing the flames. If an item of clothing or a parcel were dropped, it would be delicately carried toward a hand ready to collect. It was as if the wind—(Y/N)—was assisting them along their quest.
It was particularly noticeable to Legolas that she often lingered in close proximity to him. Her presence seemed to envelop him frequently, becoming unmistakable and distinct.
When Legolas would be tasked to collect firewood, a gentle breeze would follow him. It would brush leaves out of the way to reveal dry wood and small sticks, perfect for kindling. The wind murmured songs among the soil, almost as if it were beckoning him to dance.
When Legolas would be hunting for food, a calm drift would search alongside him. It would twist through the brush, startling small prey to reveal them to him. The wind breathed wordless encouragement to him, as if challenging him to impress her.
When Legolas would be walking upon hard terrain, a playful gust would walk with him. It would blow his hair away from his face to reveal his features. The wind sent flirtatious laughter upon his elvish ear, chasing shivers along his nerves.
When Legolas would be changing out of mud or blood covered clothes, a devious wisk would linger behind him. It would push his tunic and undershirt upwards to reveal his muscled form then make his extra clothing scatter. The wind whispered sultry glee to him, teasing him in efforts to show more.
This mischievous presence that shrouded him seemed to flirt with him—challenge, play, and engage. Of course, Legolas recalled Gandalf's earlier assertion that the wind spirit held a particular fondness for elves, but the true depth of this fondness had only become apparent as her companionship persisted. He couldn't deny that their ongoing interaction held a certain allure, for he would be lying if he said their little game did not entertain him.
When the fellowship was in Moria, however, silence reigned. The usual gusts and breezes that had accompanied them were absent. It was as if the very air mourned with them. Yet, as soon as they exited, with grief heavy upon their soul, a quick adrenalized wind came to find them. It seemed to brush around the rocks, taking in the pain of the travelers and trying to process what it meant. Though, as the wind noticed one was no longer there, she took to sending warmth their way in hopes to soften the sorrow—shrouding Legolas for just a moment longer than the others.
When the fellowship was in Lothlorien, (Y/N) came too. Rustling up trouble among the elves with flirtatious gusts, lifting skirts and sweeping away cloaks, fostering much annoyance and embarrassment among the immortal elven folk. However, those brushes of wind often struck Legolas more than any other.
When the fellowship—or rather the three that remained—took to sprinting across Arda, the wind ran alongside them. It pushed them forward with encouragement, almost too eagerly and too persistent. It was as if she was whispering ‘hurry hurry’ in their ears—as if she possessed knowledge they did not. Though Legolas suspected neither Gimli nor Aragorn noticed the subtle guidance of the wind.
A watcher of wanderers indeed.
As the group arrived in Rohan, their hearts brimmed with renewed hope, for they had gained the knowledge of Merry and Pippin’s life and the presence of Gandalf.
Following Mithranduil's expulsion of the sorcery that had ensnared King Théoden, the weary travelers were ushered to various chambers where they could refresh themselves and find much-needed rest.
Legolas opted to bathe immediately, determined to liberate himself from the accumulated dirt and grime that had clung to his body through the arduous months of travel. He eased into the in-ground basin, the soothing warmth and enveloping steam creating a cocoon of comfort. He tended to his skin and hair with meticulous care until he finally felt rejuvenated. Elves did not like to linger in grime.
Emerging from the bath, he stepped into the adjacent bedroom, where his gaze was drawn to the open windows, allowing the cool breeze to waft in. The wind seemed to recognize him instantly, rushing forth with an almost mischievous enthusiasm. It nearly yanked his towel from his waist! It was only through his quick reflexes that he narrowly avoided a less than modest reveal.
Legolas ground his teeth. “(Y/N),” he mumbled in a chastising tone.
In response, the wind seemed to giggle, as if playfully toying with him.
He rewrapped the towel and hastened to close the windows, yearning for a night of undisturbed peace. Normally, he would tolerate (Y/N)'s whimsical outbursts, but on this night, his weary body and mind craved respite and tranquility.
Legolas changed into more comfortable attire and settled into his bed. He allowed his heavy eyelids to drift shut, for he craved sleep. But after a brief moment, they snapped open.
He watched as the curtains shifted ever so slightly, followed by the tapestry on the wall and the drapes above his bed. The blanket beside him rustled gently, and then, there was no movement in the room.
She hadn't left when he closed the windows.
She was still here.
Though he couldn't see her, he was acutely aware of her presence…right beside him.
The elf couldn't help but blush, a warm crimson hue creeping up upon his ears and cheeks. Oh, if his Ada knew he was flirting with the wind….
In an effort to divert his thoughts from such matters and avoid giving (Y/N) any indication that he was dwelling on them, the elf shifted onto his side, turning away from the playful Spirit whose home was the sky.
…..
Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s presence among the battles at Helms Deep and the Fields of Pelennor; although it wasn't until the latter that he knew for sure she was actively fighting alongside him.
Amidst the relentless chaos, the elf wielded his two silver blades, using them with deadly precision to cut the throat of one orc and immediately behead another. He swiftly pressed on, eliminating as many of the enemy forces as he could.
The men around him were growing weary, their energy dwindling, but Legolas continued to stand firm, even though he too felt the drain on his strength.It seemed the dark forces had taken notice of the relentless devastation he was causing among their ranks, as they began to single him out. Hordes of orcs began converging on him, and Sauron's archers took aim. However, the arrows meant for him didn't find their mark. They veered off course, curving with an unexpected gust of wind, plunging directly into three orcs nearby.
Legolas whipped his head around in astonishment, but it took only a moment for him to grasp the source of this unexpected intervention: (Y/N).
As he continued to take down orc after orc, she remained by his side, using her ethereal presence to force the creatures back into one another, granting Legolas a distinct advantage and a brief moment to catch his breath. She deflected arrows aimed at him and extended her helping hand when he faced the Oliphaunt. She even lifted him up with a gentle drift when his footing faltered. (Y/N) followed Legolas throughout the battlefield, her commitment unwavering, even after the war had drawn to a close.
Exhausted and burdened by grief and relief, the mortal, battle-weary soldiers sought solace and took to rest, heal, and eat.
Legolas volunteered to wander the battlefield in search of any survivors.
He tread carefully, his feet moving softly over the blood-soaked and red-stained earth. The ground seemed to bear witness to the agony, uncertainty, and hope that had marked their strenuous journey. Legolas had never anticipated surviving the trials that had befallen him, yet here he stood, alive and persevering against all odds.
With a heavy heart and the absence of survivors to be found, Legolas, fatigued and drained, decided to make his way back to his comrades who were attending to the wounded and offering peace to those in need.
In a sudden fierce gust of wind, Legolas found himself surrounded by an unexpected swirl. Swiftly, he whirled around, his keen elven senses alert, just in time to witness an orc raising an axe menacingly above his head, poised to strike.
However, Legolas was not met with such a gruesome fate. The wind seemed to rise against the approaching beast, as though an invisible force hindered its advance. However, that force began to no longer be invisible. A strange, translucent figure began to materialize into the opaque form of a woman. She stood, her back pressed against his chest and her front pushing firmly against the would-be assailant. With her arms raised high, she held the axe at bay, preventing the deadly blow from falling upon the elf.
Legolas' lips parted in astonishment, his eyes widening as he struggled to comprehend the event unfolding before him. But everything transpired too swiftly for him to intervene. The figure solidified, to the point that he could feel her against him, and the axe came down at an unusual angle, slicing into the woman's side.
A cry escaped her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, her pain echoing through the air.
Suddenly thrust back into the harsh reality of battle, Legolas swiftly grasped the knife strapped to his belt. In one fluid motion, he drove the blade into the orc's heart. The creature gurgled for a moment, blood pooling from its mouth, before finally collapsing lifeless.
Without hesitation, Legolas fell to the unconscious woman crumpled at his feet. His heart clenched with dread as he noticed the crimson stains spreading across the delicate, iridescent fabric that cloaked his form.
"No, no, no," he murmured, his hands pressing against the wound in a frantic attempt to stop the bleeding. Panic tinged his voice as he glanced at her face, his voice rising in desperation, " (Y/N), you foolish Maiar. Why did you intervene? Why did you put yourself in harm's way?" His bloodied hand gently cupped her cheek. "Wake up. Come on, wake up!"
She remained unresponsive.
Swiftly, Legolas gathered her into his arms, keeping one hand pressed against the bleeding wound, and hurried towards the makeshift infirmary.
Pushing the doors open, he called out in a voice laced with fear, "Aragorn!"
Immediately, the urgent tone drew the attention of those nearby, even in the midst of the ongoing chaos of the healing ward. The Ranger, alerted by the distress in his friend's voice, swiftly moved past the curious onlookers, with Gimli at his side and Gandalf following not too far behind.
“A-an ax to the side. She’s bleeding heavily,” he sputtered out. “Please.”
Pointing to a makeshift bed, Aragorn commanded. ‘Get her on that cot! Quickly now.”
Gimili, entirely bewildered by the unfolding events and his friend’s frantic behavior, called out, “Laddie, who is that?!”
Legolas, gently placing her form on the cot, didn't even bother to look at his dwarf companion as he replied. “(Y/N).”
The dwarf shook his head and raised his hands in confusion. “Who the fuck is (Y/N)?!”
The elf sent Gimli a quick, almost exasperated glance. "The wind!" he snapped back, a bit too sharply.
Gimli’s eyes drifted around the room, his confusion turning into concern for his friend’s well being. “The wind?” he questioned. “Did ya happen to get knocked in the head, tree boy?”
It was Gandalf that chimed in. “(Y/N), a Maiar, the spirit of the wind. She has been with us throughout our journey.”
Aragorn shot the wizard a brief look as he swiftly cut away the mysterious, translucent fabric cloaking the woman and began tending to the deep, bleeding wound.
“With us the entire time?!” Gimli bellowed. “Then why haven't I seen her once?"
Gandalf peered over Aragorn’s shoulder. “She doesn't have a corporal form. At least, she didn’t. I’m afraid this is the first time any of us are seeing her.”
Legolas ran his bloodied hands through his hair, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he stepped back. His chest felt constricted with worry while his eyes remained fixated on the woman as Aragorn worked. “Can you do it, Aragorn? Can you save her?” he implored, his voice quivering with a mixture of desperation and hope.
The man met Legolas' gaze. His determination to save her was unwavering, even in the face of this strange reveal of a profound connection between a force he didn't know existed and his dear friend. Seeing Legolas’ pain, he responded firmly, "I will try."
Gimli, moving to stand beside the wizard, watched the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He couldn't help but murmur, "I've never seen him so frazzled before." His words were filled with a deep sense of empathy for his elven friend, for this had clearly shaken Legolas to his core.
Gandalf let his gaze shift from the elf to Gimli, offering the dwarf a knowing look in response.
The watcher of wanderers had now become a wonder to the wanderers themselves.
……
Legolas sat in a chair beside (Y/N). He was quiet and still as he watched her chest rise and fall steadily. Aragorn had successfully treated her wound, preventing infection, though she remained unconscious. She rested soundlessly, her expression peaceful—despite Legolas’ bloody handprint, now brown, dried, and cracking, that lingered upon her cheek. Her features were graceful and elegant. Each curve and bend of her face accentuated her beauty. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to look like, though how she appeared made sense with her temperament. He could see her flirtatious streak, her mischievous tone, and her protective aurora. She was exactly what wind would be: strong yet gentle, fierce yet calm, emotional yet stern.
He watched over her, just as she had watched over him. So intently, that he didn't notice one behind him until a hand pressed firmly upon his shoulder.
"Legolas," Aragorn began, his expression filled with gentle concern as he inquired, "How do you know this woman?"
Legolas sighed, keeping his gaze on her. "She has been traveling with us," he explained.
The sound of wood scraping against stone told the elf that the Ranger pulled a nearby chair over to sit next to him.
“So Gandalf said. Though I do not understand,” Aragorn admitted.
Legolas shifted. “I started to notice strange occurrences—unexplained events.”
Aragorn raised a brow, “Strange occurrences?”
Legolas felt his cheeks heat as he cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, but more importantly, I noticed something helping us. Consistently.” He paused, “I asked Mithranduil about it and he told me of her.” He shook his head. “He said she was cursed to watch us—us inhabitants of Arda—and not be able to walk among us.”
“Then how is she here now before us, like this.”
Legolas glanced at his hands, a hint of nervousness in his expression. “I asked Mithranduil that too,” he admitted. “He said her sacrifice must have ended her limbo.” He then let his eyes land on his friend and he spoke once more, his tone almost fearful and definitely shy—something Aragorn had never seen from the elf. “If she doesn't survive, because of me, will Arda have wind no longer? I haven't felt a single breeze since she fell.”
Aragorn sighed. “I do not know, my friend. I do not know.” He reached forward and placed his hand upon his shoulder. “Please go clean up and rest. You are no good to her like this. I will take care of her, I promise.”
Legolas hesitated, “But what if she wakes?”
The Ranger sighed again, “If she wakes, I will send someone to—”
He was interrupted by a soft groan escaping from the lips of the Wind Spirit.
Instantly, both Legolas and Aragorn turned to look at the woman.
Her eyelids lazily blinked open, and she gradually became aware of her surroundings. A frown creased her face as she emitted another groan. Her hand moved slowly, making its way down to her bandaged side.
"What... what is this feeling?" she murmured to herself, puzzled by the sensations.
To her astonishment, Legolas responded, “Pain.”
She scrambled to sit upright in bed, the pain surging through her body but the sheer force of adrenaline propelled her actions. “You–you can hear me?” she whispered, eyes wide.
Legolas moved closer, taking a seat on the edge of the cot. In a gentle tone, he answered, "I can hear you. I can see you." He tenderly raised his hand to her cheek, resting it on the dried bloody mark already there. "And I can feel you."
A hushed gasp escaped her lips as she reached up to touch his hand. "It's... it's warm," she remarked, her voice filled with surprise. "I didn't expect it to be warm."
The elf smiled gently in response.
A mischievous smirk then graced her lips, and her gaze, rather unmistakably, wandered down his figure and briefly settled upon his pants. “Is everything this warm?” she inquired with a teasing tone.
Taken aback by her words and her brazen gaze, he cleared his throat. A noticeable flush crept across his cheeks and ears as he broke eye contact. With that, Legolas turned to face Aragorn, who stood behind him with raised eyebrows and a playful grin forming at the corner of his mouth. “My apologies, Aragorn.” He glanced back at the Wind Spirit. “(Y/N), this is—”
She interrupted him, her eyes on the other man. “I know who he is,” she said with confidence. “Aragorn, son of Arathorn the second, also called Strider or Wingfoot, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and the Uncrowned King of Gondor.”
The expressions on both men's faces contorted, morphing to sheer astonishment—how did she know all that?
(Y/N) grinned sheepishly. "I am the wind," she confessed. "I see and hear a great deal."
…..
The Minas Tirith Castle was cloaked in the deep shroud of a late moonlit night as Legolas walked through its ancient halls. The soft flickering of torchlight painted wavering shadows on the weathered stone walls, lending an atmosphere that resonated with the weight of its history. His footsteps were silent as he moved, and his thoughts followed suit, meandering through the corridors of his mind.
However, up ahead, a figure bathed in a gentle glow caused Legolas to abruptly halt in his tracks, his thoughts instantly converging on the woman.
“(Y/N),” he called out, approaching her. “What are you doing away from the House of Healing? You shouldn't be out of bed. You should be resting!”
She let out an exasperated sigh, not appreciating his chastising tone. "I am a watcher of wanderers, Legolas. Therefore, I too am a voyager. It is not in my nature to stay still."
Legolas released a heated breath through his nose. “That may be true, but you now have a corporal form. No longer are you just a breeze.”
She rolled her eyes, shifting her feet to hide the persistent pain emanating from her side. “I may not be a breeze any longer, but I still control all the winds of Arda. I could knock you on your ass in seconds, injured or not.”
Legolas chuckled lightly. “I never would have gotten involved with the wind if I knew she was so temperamental,” he teased.
(Y/N), suppressing a grin, responded with a snarky retort. “Oh, so we are involved, are we?”
The elf sent her a look, trying to hide his expression of amusement. “I would be naive to think that all the times the wind flirted with me, it was just a ploy.”
“Maybe I enjoy a ploy from century to century, Legolas,” she replied.
He laughed lightly at her jest, then took a step closer, his demeanor shifting to one of seriousness. Gently, he pressed his hand to her bandaged side. “(Y/N),” he began softly. “Why did you do it? Why did you get in between that orc and I?”
She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with sincerity. “You know why.”
“Say it,” he commanded.
“Because,” she began, her tone becoming shy and soft. “Because, I—I love you.”
Instantly, Legolas wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips fervently against hers. As their mouths met with equal intensity, he tasted the essence of the wind. And oh, it tasted of adventure, suffering, and joy. It tasted of warm bread from the north, bitter nuts from the east, clear water from the south, and fresh fruit from the west. It tasted of eons and eons of wandering, yet still, she tasted of home. Her hands found their way into his golden locks of hair, twisting and tugging it lightly. He allowed her to siphon off his heat, for the wind was often cold and bellowing. Though, he could tell she was taking more than just his warmth—she was taking his love; and oh, he gladly gave it to her.
…..
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victoria-writes · 2 months
Text
Elvish For Dummies
Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)
Summary: Set after the events of LoTR. You live with Legolas in Mirkwood and he teaches you Elvish. Pure fluff.
Word Count: 1039
Notes: Established relationship, reader is human, tried to make the sindarin elvish as accurate as possible so apologies for any mistakes, I’m multilingual so I based this off of my own experience with learning languages 
Read it on AO3 here
Story:
Despite the fellowship having disbanded, each day with Legolas seemed like another adventure. During your perilous journey together, the two of you had grown closer than either of you thought possible. The mere thought of being apart from you pulled at his heartstrings. He could not bear the thought of being separated from his new love. After the one ring was destroyed, the elf invited you to come with him to Mirkwood. Hastily, you agreed, for you too could not wait to start a new life with the elven prince. 
Since reaching Mirkwood, many seasons have passed and you two grow closer by the day. Under his guidance, your archery skills and ability to speak Elvish have improved. He took it upon himself to privately tutor you in the tongue of his people. Legolas still giggles when you fumble certain words on your tongue, but is quick to apologize, never wanting to discourage you. He says you have made remarkable progress and that you possess great linguistic potential. Whether that is true or he is exaggerating with sugar coated words, you cannot tell but it feels good to hear his encouragement either way. 
Most of your days together included walks through the woods and riding horseback, but today was a gloomy rainy day. A day that, Legolas decided, would be a wonderful excuse to help you get back to your studies. It’s not that you did not enjoy Elvish. Oh no! You quite liked hearing him whisper loving words to you as he held your gaze. 
“Meleth nîn, Im tur feel cín emel dring dan sab - My love, I can feel your heartbeat against mine”, he would say as he held you in his arms, his breath dancing upon your skin with each syllable. 
Saying you enjoyed that would be the understatement of the century. Everything in Sindarin sounded like poetry. Even the most mundane sentences were said with purpose and flowered language. Unfortunately for you, that also meant the most basic phrases you had to learn weren’t your typical ones. Instead of “I went to the store”, you had to say “I depart to look for food - Im gwann- na thír an aes”. It seems that most Elvish children learn how to say things like “I can feel it in the earth - Im tur- feel ha in i coe” before they learn “please” and “thank you”. No wonder they all sound prophetic when they speak common. Creepy oracle sounding sentence structure as your first language combined with being thousands of years old will do that. 
“Meleth nîn, you’re drifting off. Shall we return to our lesson or is a break needed?”, Legolas' words break you out of your trance. You look up from your desk, covered in notes, to see him towering above you, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. 
“Apologies, I was merely pondering the linguistic differences between Sindarin and Quenya Elvish”, you quickly come up with the excuse to hide the fact that you were simply not paying attention. 
“Is that so?”, 
“Yes, yes, the distinction between Elvish languages is very interesting to me”.
“This is the third time this lesson you’ve been distracted by those differences”.
“Ah, well…”, you trail off, caught red-handed. 
“Y/N, I will not force you to learn Sindarin if you do not wish it”.
“No, no, no, I want to learn. I promise. It’s all just new to me and takes a moment to sink in. Please, repeat what you said. I’m paying attention”.
Legolas smiles but does not repeat himself. Instead, he moves on to an exercise he is sure will get your attention. 
“We shall review what I have taught you thus far.” 
“ Very good, Y/N. Now how would you say ‘the stars shine white’?”
“ I elena mír thilivern” 
“The grass is green?”
“I thár na- calen”        
“Very good pronunciation. You have done well. I believe it is time to learn some new vocabulary”.
You take out a new sheet of paper from your stack, ready to write. 
“You need not write for this portion. Repeat after me.” 
“Okay”. You put your quill down. 
“Meleth nîn.”
“Meleth nîn. I know what that means already. You say it all the time”.
“And what does it mean?”
“My love”, your lips turn upward in a shy smile.  
“Very good. Let us move on then”, he smiles brightly, as if pleasantly surprised despite knowingly fully well that you knew its meaning. 
“I’m ready. Hit me.” 
He suddenly sits down next to you and takes your hands into his own.
“Im mel cin”  
“Im mel cin”  
“Do you know its meaning?”   
“No, should I? I’m sorry.”, your eyes widen as you try to recall whether he had said it before in a previous lesson. 
Legolas throws his head back with laughter. This may be the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh before… and it’s at you. Great. 
“Apologies. Apologies.”, he manages to get out between giggles, “The look on your face was priceless.” Your face sours at this and Legolas manages to resist a second burst of laughter from it. He thinks you equal parts hilarious and adorable. 
“You would not have known this phrase as I have never spoken it to you before. I do think it is high time for you to learn it”.
“Okay, so what does it mean?”, you scrunch your eyebrows together, ego still a little hurt from being laughed at. 
His grip on your hands tighten but his touch stays gentle as ever. He has always been gentle with you. His gaze holds the same softness. No, even deeper.  The blue of his eyes seem more vibrant and invite you in to look deeper within him. His eyes tell of a love that can never be truly explained in any language. Legolas has always had a staring problem when it comes to you, but this is something different entirely. Your cheeks redden at his seriousness.
“I love you”.
Your eyes widen once more and before you can react, he kisses you. Deeply. Passionately. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” he repeats again and again into your lips. 
Maybe learning a new language isn’t so bad, if you have the right teacher.
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kierancaz · 2 years
Text
𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫/𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬/𝐨) 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏: 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
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A/N: sooo I wrote like a third of this and then accidentally posted it and had to delate it I literally want to cry 🥲 ANYWAYS this is basically gender flipped Hiccup/Astrid from the first movie. I’m probably changing now dragons work in the lotr verse but idc.
Warnings: asshole Legolas (at the beginning), not proof read, possible spelling/grammar mistakes, a few direct quotes from the first httyd movie because I couldn’t help myself 💀
Synopsis: you’ve been acting strange Legolas takes matters of investigation into his own hands.
*this is going to have a part 2 of head canons bc I cannot fit everything I want into this one shot lmao*
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You were… widely regarded as strange to the other elves. Daughter to the hand of the king you have a fairly high status within Greenwood, but not many friends.
Legolas had known you since you where both kids but he never payed much attention to you. You were shy and quite and liked to hide. Growing up you barely said two words to him and as you both got older he fell in with everyone who didn’t like you.
He saw you every once in a while, usually drawing or working in the blacksmiths, more recently in the library. You had joined the guard not to long ago, Legolas assumed your father had made you because you weren’t to good at it.
You fumbled your way through every day of training and more then once someone had to rescue you while out on patrol. Legolas wished he had the power to kick you off the guard, it would make everyone’s lives so much easier, but Tauriel refused.
However, in the last month you had been acting more strange then usual, and Legolas seemed to be the only one to notice. It irked him.
You had been sneaking off any chance you got, after patrols and trainings you would just disappear and more then once he saw you from his balcony sneaking off into the woods at night. You hardly spent any time in your usual places like the library or the blacksmiths or even sitting under your favorite tree in the garden.
Tauriel wouldn’t listen to him when he brought up your mysterious disappearances and he didn’t want to you to his father just yet, so he took matters into his own hands. For the next couple of days Legolas observed you more closely. He made excuses to go into the blacksmiths and try and get a glimpse at what you where working on, he followed you into the library and picked up what books you’d leave behind, and every night he waited on his balcony to watch where you would walk into the woods. Admittedly it was a little weird but he had to know what you where doing. Finally, he decided it was time to follow you into the woods.
He waited in the woods for you to show up after your patrol, sitting patiently on a rock, sharpening his blades to pass the time. He stopped when he heard the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs not to far ahead of him. Quickly he jumped behind the rock to not be seen.
As he predicted, when he looked out from behind the rock he saw you walking through the woods dressed in something strange. It seemed to be made of leather?
After you where a good distance ahead of him he crept out from behind the rock and silently followed you from a distance, making sure to keep out of sight. You were mumbling to yourself as you flipped through a little leather bound book in your hands, chewing on the end of your pencil.
Maybe you were just a harmless weirdo, Legolas began to think. Maybe he was being to hard on you. He didn’t understand why what you where doing mattered to him so much, why he was so interested. If he was going to be honest with himself you didn’t seem like a threat. He sighed and as he was thinking about this, he stepped on a twig and it cracked under his weight.
You stopped up ahead and spun around. Quickly Legolas ducked behind a tree. You gave a questioning look around before slowly turning back and hastening your pace.
Legolas breathed again after you continued moving forward, he stayed there until you were almost out of sight before he followed again. He followed you for a long while, watching carefully were he stepped.
Eventually, you disappeared again. This time though you had climbed your way down into a large clearing. There was a couple trees with a large pond in the center of the grove but he couldn’t see much from up where he was. He climbed down through the rocks and into the grove but there was no sign of you. He took a moment to spin and look around, it was a beautiful place, he could see why you would want to sneak off here.
“Legolas.” He heard the shock in your voice as you dropped something to the ground, but when he turned around you had kicked it behind the bolder you were standing next to.
He turned around, his face stony. “Wha-what are you doing here?” You laughed nervously, looking around and shuffling on your feat.
“Actually, I came to ask you the same question.” He said coming closer, flipping his blade in his hand and looking down his nose at you.
“Oh! Well you know, ah, um,” you stuttered.
“And what is this you’re wearing?” Legolas asked accusatorially and tried to peer around the bolder you rushed up to him and put both your hands on his chest, trying to guide him away.
“I’ve been, uh, making… outfits!” You laughed. “That’s it! You caught me! Drag me back and—”
Legolas swiftly moved his blade so it pointed at your throat. Immediately you moved both your hands off him. “Don’t lie to me. What are you hiding?”
There was a low rumbling coming from behind him. Legolas looked over a shoulder and climbing out from behind a stack of boulders, teeth bared and reptilian eyes fixed on them, was a dragon.
“Get down!” Legolas shouted and shoved you both to the ground as the dragon pounced. Legolas got back up immediately, prepared to swing his sword at the beast.
“Stop! Stop!” You cried as you scrambled to your feet and placed yourself between Legolas and the large black dragon.
You where facing him with both your hands on the dragons face, holding it back from attacking again. It’s green eyes fixed on Legolas as it continued to growl.
“You scared her!” You said, looking more angry then Legolas had ever seen.
“I scared her?!” Legolas yelled back, using his sword to point at himself and then the dragon. He noticed now that the dragon was wearing a leather saddle.
There was a long stretch of silence where all you did was look at each other. It was like Legolas thoughts had completely stopped working. This wasn’t even on the list of things he had expected to find out here with you.
He turned on his heel and began to walk away.
“Wait! Wait-wait-wait-wait.” You said skidding over to him. You grabbed him by the arm to stop your feet from sliding out form under you, you where crouched down ever so slightly to catch his eye, all evidence of angry gone from your face and replaced by intense worry. “You can’t tell anyone, they’ll have her killed! I promise she’s not dangerous.”
Legolas furrowed his brows and looked over his shoulder. The black dragon was still glaring at him. It snorted at him rather aggressively.
“Just…” slowly your hand moved down his arm until it gently clasped his hand. “Just let me show you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and something about it made Legolas’ heart speed up.
Gently, slowly, you led him back over to the dragon. It might have been the wrong time, but it dawned on him that he quite liked the feeling of your hand in his.
You lifted his hand to the dragons nose and it made a low growl. “Shrenka,” you said and the dragon turned it big eyes to you. Immediately he saw how her slit pupils turned round. “He’s a friend.”
Shrenka made a disgruntled, annoyed, noise but she allowed Legolas to place his hand on her. Legolas peeled his eyes from Shrenka to find that you where already looking at him, a slight smile placed on your lips.
“She’s a bit moody,” you said as you removed your hand from over top of his. “But that’s all.”
Slowly Legolas began to stroke Shrenka’s head and scratched under her chin and she made a sound akin to a cats purr. A smile began to form on his face, and in turn, one formed on yours.
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make-me-imagine · 2 years
Text
Altered Perception
Trope: Forced alliance leads to friendship (and then more); a.k.a Enemies to Lovers
Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x GN!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of violence/fighting.
Words: 1.6k
A/N's: Rhovanion is the area of Middle-Earth where Mirkwood resides. This is mostly in flashback thought style, and there isn't very much dialogue until the end.
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-
Things were so different now, thinking back on it. On how your journey started. How different your feelings were now, you felt like an entirely different person.
It had been ingrained in you, how selfish and pious the Woodland King and his son were. Years of bias and hate forced onto you from a young age. And you fell for it. Just as the young Prince had done.
He was told you were just as arrogant and self-centered as your parents. A child with no skill or intelligence outside of riches and war.
When you met that day, at the council, one from each family gathered. Including the woodland prince. When you learned who each other were, you barely looked at one another, though, stole a glance every now and then.
You weren't sure what came over you, to join the company of the Hobbit to destroy the ring, but you knew it was more important than anything else. Even if you had to join with a decided enemy of your family.
The beginning of your journey was a mess of subtle insults, jabs and silence. Between you, the woodland prince, and the dwarf, tension was high. But you befriended the rest easily and quickly, expecting nothing to come of your time with the prince except a growing hatred.
But sure enough, you found that you could pick apart your families biased opinions fairly quickly. He was not selfish, not pious. At times he was arrogant, but never more than you. Silently you altered your opinion of him, wondering how your parents got it so wrong.
Legolas, on his own, was doing the same. You were not self-centered, nor nearly as half-witted as he had been made to believe. You were intelligent, clever, and skilled.
Slowly, your conversations involved more discussion than insult, questions before assumptions, and even shared stories of your youth. Slowly, the bias faded, and you no longer saw the Prince as anything other than Legolas, a loyal companion, just as you saw Gimli.
You decided that when you returned from your journey, you would not hide the truth from your parents. You would right their wrong opinions, and no longer share their hate. Because soon enough, Legolas was your friend. And even sooner than you were expecting, he felt like something more.
As you fought side by side in ever battle that came your way, you found yourself trusting him more and more. Never afraid to turn your back on him, never afraid to turn away from an enemy. Because he was always there to cover you, to help you, just as you were for him.
You both took blows meant for the other, both warned each other of oncoming danger. You became a team, and formed a bond before you knew it was ever there.
And at times of peace, when your journey was nothing but walking, traveling, sitting, resting, you found yourself watching him. Admiring his hair, his eyes, his voice. Smiling at his stories and jokes. Wanting him to tell you more about the forest of Mirkwood you were never allowed to see.
And Legolas, found himself always watching you. When you would run up a hill to check the view. Watch a bird fly over head. Talk to Gandalf about something in soft voices. He always wanted to know what you were thinking, what you were seeing. What did you see when you looked at him? What did you think of him, truly?
His eyes always sought you out first, he always made sure he knew where you were. That you were still there. And when your eyes met at the same time, they lingered, in a silent language you both seemed to understand, Words that remained unspoken, un-whispered, to either of you. He wondered what would happen when this journey was over. If both of you made it out alive, what would happen then? Would he ever see you again? Of course he would, he would make sure of it. In the days leading up to the final battle, he kept thinking what he would do.
And suddenly, before any of you knew it, the final battle was among you. You faced your enemy at their door, ready to fight to the death if need be.
During much of the battle, neither you or Legolas were far out of sight. But somewhere along the way, you looked around him, and saw him nowhere. You felt a rush of panic flow through you as you looked around, your eyes darting to every body on the grass, to every moving figure.
As more enemies charged forward, you knew you had to keep fighting. If Legolas was out there, he was alive, and you would see him again, at the end of all of this. And maybe then you would not be so afraid of your feelings.
Legolas felt his strength faltering as the battle raged on. And his fears where heavy on his mind ever since you vanished from his sight. He spotted Aragorn, and even Gimli amongst the battle, but you he did not see. His heart ached at the idea of losing you, of failing to see you fall. Guilt rampaged through him as the horrible though of failing to save you crossed his mind.
But suddenly, a face came into view. A figure swinging wildly at the orcs, taking them down. Your familiar eyes met his and he felt a heavy weight lift off of him.
Relief washed over you at the sight of his familiar face. Eyes locked, emotion and relief present, you continued to fight the enemies around you, while gradually getting closer to each other.
Slicing down one enemy, another appeared, but he was sliced down in front of you, revealing Legolas right beside you. Your eyes locked again, a silent greeting, lips quirking up in a relieved smile. As you continued your battle, you felt more courage than before, knowing you were side by side once again. Your past enemy, now your greatest ally.
But quickly, things changed. You were outnumbered, surrounded. You watched in horror as Aragorn fell, the giant standing over him. Legolas began to fight his war towards him as you sliced through enemies trying to help.
Suddenly a loud roar echoed through the sky. Your eyes shot up, spotting the Eye of Sauron glowing brighter, shaking violently. A chill seemed to run through the swarm of orcs. You watched in awe as the foundation of Saurons tower began to crack and crumble. As the tower fell, so did Saurons forces. Fleeing from the fight, leaving you all left, watching.
Relief washed over you as you understood. Frodo and Sam had made it. The ring was destroyed. But soon, the mountain was too. You watched, tears filling your eyes, falling in step beside Legolas, as you watched the mountain erupt.
Reaching out, you took Legolas's hand, his gripped yours tightly in return. It couldn't end like this. You had to hope beyond hope that they somehow made it out, made it to a safe distance.
You waited impatiently as time seemed to move so slowly. The battle was over, you would not know if Frodo or Sam made it out until Gandalf returned.
Your only comfort was riding alongside you, as you trekked back to safety. Everyone was quiet. A mixture of joy and sorrow sat over the company. You and Legolas shared glances every now and then, wondering silently what would happen next.
You would not have the chance to fully discus it until you made it back to Rivendell. Frodo and Sam were safe and healing. The company resting after their long ordeal.
You looked out at the mountains as Legolas sat beside you, leg pressed against yours. You weren't sure when you stopped staying at a distance from one another, and instead always seemed to be so close. As if you had slowly been puled together over time.
"What now?" You finally asked, breaking the silence.
Legolas looked over at you, studying your profile until you looked over at him. He shook his head softly. "I'm not sure."
You nodded, looking back out at the view. "I thought after so long I would be ready to go home, but...I'm not."
"Me either." Legolas admitted.
"But I'm not sure where to go." You added on.
Legolas felt his chest tighten as he looked back over at you. His heart was beating heavily in his chest. Taking a breath he spoke softly, but with certainty. "You can come with me."
You looked back at him, finding his gaze intently meeting yours. "Where?" You asked softly.
He smiled and he shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know. Anywhere. Everywhere. We can explore the places we have never seen. I can show you Rhovanion."
You felt a smile spread across your face, as sense of excitement washed over you. "It's a long journey back, are you sure your not tired of my company yet?" You asked with a joking tone.
You saw for a single moment, his eyes flick to your lips before he met our eyes again. His own smile grew. "Not yet."
You felt your neck grow hot as you stared at each other. You nodded softly. "Alright. I think I could do with another adventure."
Legolas smiled, reaching over, he placed his hand on top of yours. "A much easier one this time."
You let out a soft laugh as you looked down at his hand on yours. Turning your and over, you laced your fingers through his. Meeting his eyes, you smiled at each other, excited and ready for whatever came next.
xx End xx
Not sure how I feel about this, but I hope you enjoyed!
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo
Lotr/Legolas Taglists: @ta-ka-shi-ma, @whimsical-daydreams
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laneynoir · 7 months
Text
Last minute desicions will be the death of me. But here, have a crappy fic I wrote really quickly.
No really, First off, I apologize for the quality, I just decided to do this challenge earlier today 😅 second, it's not a major plot point or anything but Legolas is transmasc in this so.
Legolas x reader, no specific pronouns :)
Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”
In. Out. In. Out. Out.Out. You shake as you try to draw another breath, lungs empty you wrench your mouth open and force a gasp of air. Half regestering the knock at the door, you lift your head from your knees, resting it agaist the wall, if indeed you could be so generous as to call the movement resulting in an obvious thump 'resting'.
The knock sounds again, this time more urgent. Rubbing at your eyes and gathering the discarded shoes, you call out, "One moment please!" The chipper tone giving naught away, or so you hope.
All hope of this is thrown aside when a familiar voice calls back. "It's me, Legolas, open the door. Please."
Not half a minute passes, though it still feels far to long, yet not long enough, before your knees pop as you scoot yourself up the wall, and slide the lock away.
When Legolas' face comes into view, it already wears the expression of worry. Grief imeadiatly joins when he sees you propped heavily against the wall, chest visibly shaking, and struggling to control yourself. You make an attempt to walk toward him, to reasure that you're ok amd he need mot worry, but you've hardly pushed away from the wall when. Your vision begins to swim and strange dots seem to begin floating around you. You knock back against the wall and slump again to the floor.
He whispers your name, dropping to his knees beside you. "May I touch you?" At your jerking nod he places his hands over yours, stilling the scratching movement from causing more harm to your arms.
He draws you to your feet, and into an embrace. Taking his cloak away from his shoulders and warping it around you, Legolas leads you through the doorway and down the hall.
A soldier -not one of the Rohiram, more of a gatekeeper really- stops your progress by moving in front of the door. "Dreadfully sorry Lady," He says to Legolas. "You two need to move along. These chambers are for the visitors of the King only."
"It is entirely regrettable for you then," Legolas voice as cold as you've heard it, and that coupled with the obviously unfeminenity of it, has the guard's eyes going wide. "That we are both visitors of King Theoden."
"Well- I cant really just take your word-"
"Legolas Thranduillion, of Greenwood. I should like to pass by you peacefully, but you are testing my patience."
Whatever may have been the man's response, you would not know. As Aragorn opens the door, quickly glances at each person, doubling back to you at your pale expression. "Y/n?" He turns to the guard. "Can I ask what's wrong, sir?"
Suddenly respectful he shifts on his feet nervously. "I was just explaining that only the King's guests are allowed past."
"And you have other elves stashed away? I should certainly like to meet them, however if you would kindly let the prince past I would much appreciate it." Aragorn is altogether to amused, and the Guard has gone bright red.
Apparently deciding not to further embarrass himself, the man waves you and Legolas past, looking not a little afraid of the threatening glance your elf spares him.
By the time the darkness of the inner room swallows you, your breathing has steadied slightly, and you are content to ball up in Legolas embrace.
"Is there more that I can do, Meleth?"
You shale your head quickly, and ball fists into his tunic. "No there's just... So much. Everywhere. Nothing seems to stop and breath a moment. It all so fast, and I cannot breath. It seems that we are surrounded by death, and yet here there is feasting, children, children have died, yet we are still so loud. Would it be so awful if we just had but a moment of silence?"
His arms tighten around you and he begins softly singing in his mother tongue, you stay this way until again the horns are rung, ams again you must go to battle.
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LOTR and Hobbit NSFW headcanons
(I’m in my lotr horny era and this list could probably be added to 😂)
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Boromir:
- His favourite position is missionary with your ankles on his shoulders so he can see your body, especially your tits
- Sex during sparring sessions
- Isn’t very rough in the bedroom but when you fuck during sparring he loves to grab you, force your head down and grab your hips hard
- Can be a little subby
- Loves to be put in his place
- Doesn’t like being or giving spanking but isn’t opposed to getting a couple face slaps
- Likes being bossed around but not degraded
- Wants you to call him ‘captain’ in the bedroom
- “Who own your cock, captain? Who fucks you this good?”
- Is a big ol tiddy boy
- Hand over the shoulder and lightly touching your boob
- “Boromir not in public”
- Not super sexual but after a long day he falls to his knees in front of you for you to hold him
- Will say “oh fuck” as he slides into you
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Eomer:
- Very typical but loves when you ride him, loves being able to see and grab all of you
- Lots of riding dirty talk
- “Ride my cock hard, darling. Come on and fuck me hard. Use those gorgeous fucking hips of yours”
- Will guide your hips as you ride him
- Seeing you ride an actual horse turns him on too
- Loooovveesss having his hair pulled
- Especially when hes between your legs or against a wall
- Bending you over his desk and taking you by flipping your dress up and fucking you hard
- When you get a bit drunk you grab his ass and biceps and he loves it
- Loves when you tell him how strong he is, like almost over the top flirting gets him for some reason
- “Oh Eomer, you have such big arms” you tell him all breathy and grabby
- Is so sweet and gentle with you
- But
- When he returns from a battle he will fuck you hard and make you scream
- Very possessive
- “Scream my name, baby, let everyone know who fucks you this good”
- Constantly grabbing you to sit on his lap, especially at parties
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Legolas:
- Sensitive ear kiinnnkkk!
- He definitely whimpers during sex
- No matter who’s on top or if he’s being submissive or dominant he always says ‘thank you’ when his cock slides inside you
- Loves to run his fingertips over you so gently and sweet
- Could gently play with your pussy for hours
- Straddling him while he’s on his knees is easily one of his favourite positions
- Being able to hold you so close to him
- Loves listening to your heart beat after sex
- Holding you and pressing his head to your chest
- Loves after sex head scratches too
- When he is a sub he loves edging
- Begging little baby
- “Please, ma’am, please let me cum. Please I’ve been such a good boy”
- Is a good boy
- When he’s dominant he’s very gentle
- Doesn’t really fuck you fast but more hard and bruising thrusts
- Mutters things in Sindarin when he’s lost in pleasure
- Whispering dirty talk in Sindarin in your ear, whether you understand it or not
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Aragorn:
- Isnt opposed to tying you up but prefers to bond you by manhandling you
- Says such sweet things to you while fucking you hard
- “Oh princess, you take my cock so good”
- Having to put his hand over your mouth while he finger fucks you
- Forced quiet sex
- “Be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. Don’t want these people to hear you do you?”
- For some reason it turns him on when you smoke his pipe
- Doesn’t like to fuck when he’s been drinking but loves to watch how you dance when you’ve been drinking
- It usually ends with heavy makeout session and touching each other but he doesn’t like full on sex when one of you is drunk
- He loves to watch it from afar too, sit in the corner and watch how your body moves
- Even when you dance with Merry and Pippin on top of tables he thinks it’s so hot
- Will just start saying full sentences and dirty talk in Sindarin while he takes you from behind
- He gets so lost that he can’t help himself
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Haldir:
- Outdoor sex
- Pulling your hair while he takes you from behind up against a tree
- The good old sensual archery lessons while he whispers in your ear
- Loves teasing you, especially by standing behind you and whispering in your ear
- “Yes marchwarden!” “Thank you, sir!”
- Slight degradation kink but nothing that actually hurts you
- “Oh look at how you blush just from my words, darling”
- Height kink
- Corners you and standing close and above you just to look you down and make you blush
- Fucks you stupid
- Like your head lulls and your eyes go all misty
- Chasing you down in the forest and fucking you when he catches you
- One of the few lotr fellas I can see being into violent fucking
- He’s rough with how he fucks but he’s just as if not more gentle and caring with aftercare
- Degradation to raise real quick
- “Take my cock just like the whore you are” “Oh my darling, you did such a good job, Meleth. Such a good girl for me”
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Thorin:
- This man has the biggest breeding kink
- “Give me an heir, my queen. Let me fill your womb”
- Staring you right in the eyes while he finger fuck you
- Obviously throne sex
- Almost cums in his pants when he sees you in your crown for the first time
- Isn’t usually submissive but you can make him do anything when you wear that crown
- Holds you down by your hips while I fucks you from behind
- Will whisper Khuzdul into your ear while he fucks you
- Fucks you rough but doesn’t want to actually ever hurt or scare you
- The second you’re uncomfortable he will stop and hold you, he’ll even sing to you
- Loves to know he can take care of you
- Such sweet dirty talk
- You’re either his queen or his good girl, no in between
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Thranduil:
- Is dominant 99% of the time
- Doesn’t always like when you’re on top but when you are he likes to force your hips to move while he fucks into you
- Wants you to say ‘thank you’ when you cum
- Does want to fuck you hard and rough but will wait and double, triple check before even trying
- Face fucking you stupid
- Is so gentle and soothing with aftercare
- Treats you like a sweet princess during aftercare
- Cockwarming while he does work
- Size kink, loves how much taller he is and how his cock barely fits in you
- “Look how your tiny pussy takes my big cock” “oh, darling, I don’t think it will fit”
- If you’re a human he also has a massive age kink
- “You’re such a sweet little girl for me”
- Staring down at you with your face covered in cum
- Not opposed to some good old pet play
- Is both cruel and loving
- Degrades his dirty little slut pet while he uses them just for his pleasure
- Loves having you sit in his lap and have you curl up to him and hold his sweet little darling
- Holds you and kisses you while you ride his thigh
- Strokes your hair while you hump his boot and look up to him with big desperate eyes
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Kili:
- Biggest turn on for him is seeing you dance and jump around
- The way your face flushes and your tits bounce makes him crazy
- Loves being both babied and degraded
- If he could live between your tits he would
- Sitting in your lap, panting and whimpering as he thrusts his hips into your hand
- Mutual masturbation
- Doesn’t like to be hurt too badly but does love spanking and overstimulation
- Shows off whenever you watch him train
- Even if he’s shorter than you he still loves showing his strength by carrying you
- Carry’s you to the bath after sex and takes his time washing your body and your hair
- Just wants to be your good boy
- No thoughts, just be good boy and love boobs
- Does not have mommy issues but does have mommy style kinks
- Loves sucking on your nipples
- (honestly that gif does things to me 🥵🥵)
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Fili:
- Knife kink!
- He’d never use his knife on you in a dangerous way but does love to cut your clothes off you
- His beard braids feel amazing and ticklish between your legs
- Hand on your thigh always, during sexual times or not
- Polar opposite things will turn him on
- While you’re fighting he gets hard and wants you to grab his hair and use his cock
- When he sees you taking care of babies his breeding kink comes out hard
- “I’m going to fuck a baby into your womb. We’re not leaving until you’re full of my cum”
- Loves to fuck you in the woods especially when it’s risky
- While on the journey to reclaim his home he liked to take you into the woods and fuck you
- He loved that you had to be so quiet but still he could hear your little whimpers
- He is a prince and next in line to the throne so he has to keep PDA to a minimum
- That doesn’t stop him from grabbing at your thigh under the table and whispering dirty things in your ear in the middle of a party
- Playfully slaps your ass while you’re changing
- Skinny dipping 👌🏻👌🏻
- He has no problem keeping you warm 😏😏
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Bard:
- Loves to cum all over your face
- Lots of pet names during
- “Oh darling you feel amazing” “cum for me sweetheart”
- Forced quiet sex
- Packing your wet underwear in his bag while he’s away, he does smell it while he touches himself
- Such a dirty man but great at hiding it
- Loves the noises you make when his beard scratches your neck
- Bit of a caretaking kink
- Gets really horny when you massage him, cook for him, bandage him up, wash him in the bath
- Takes you fishing so he can finger you on his boat
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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NNN Day 26 with Legolas Greenleaf
Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, gentle sex, praise, creampie, slight breeding kink, human!Reader
A/N: One of my first ever fictional crushes. I think I wanted to marry him when I was like... idk 12 or something lol. So yeah, been a long time.
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"F-Fuck!" You moaned as you felt him shoot his cum inside you, his hips rocking back and forth gently as his too gentle hands caressed up and down your body like he was worshiping you, "Wait... hold on... I'm still... Legolas!"
"Yes, my darling? Did you not want this? If I recall you have been begging for me to, as you said, breed you, for almost a month now. Actually begging for it." Even though he never swore and he treated you so gently, making love to you slowly every time, he also wanted to hear every desire you had. No matter how filthy it may sound coming out of your mouth.
As your face got warm from his intense eyes you averted your look downwards, only to get even more flustered when saw his cock still pushing in and out, the bits of white cum forming a thick ring around the bottom of the shaft. With that much cum, after that many rounds, and he was still hard, still going, still thrusting into your cunt, building up another orgasm for you both.
"You sure do like to take your time." Your hands played with his silky smooth, soft hair, twirling it around your finger, entertaining the idea of pulling on it.
Legolas sighed, his smile a tiny bit smaller then before, "You are a human. An extradentary one but... you know as well as I that your lifespan in nothing compared to mine. So I wish to enjoy every moment we have together, to love and cherish you like you deserve to be. And if children is what you want, then I must make sure to be very thorough when breeding you full of my seed."
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fvck-the-patriarchy · 9 months
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Y/n: Did you buy eggs like I asked?
Legolas: Even better!
Y/n: What the fuck did you-
Legolas: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy.
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itsfeckinwimdy · 1 year
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10 Types of Kisses
Various LOTR/TH x Reader
Pairings: Aragorn, Fili, Haldir, Kili, & Legolas x Reader (separately).
Pronouns: n/a.
Prompt(s): 10 types of kisses by @urfriendlywriter. You can find her post here. (I used 9/10 of them).
Word Count: 3.4k words (3415)
Warnings: No beta, we die like Boromir. open wounds (Aragorns + Fili's), marriage (Fili's), swearing (Kili's), mentions of battle + death + blood (Legolas).
Tree Speaks: I had a lot of fun writing this but it also went into territory that I'm not particularly comfortable with writing yet so we'll see how this pans out.
Translations: amad - mother, dwarrowdams - a term used for female dwarves.
LOTR + TH Masterlist
Published: 25/02/2023
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1. Aragorn
soft kisses - where they're just lying beside you, hands playing with your hair as they trail tender kisses all over your lips
The two of you were meant to be sleeping of course, but the gloom of the mines made it hard to settle. You supposed that's why he pulled you away from the others slightly, to a spot just that bit further away.
Aragorn was on first watch as usual, having made it his task since the beginning of the journey, and always insisted that the hobbits and Gandalf got plenty of sleep. But with that came the usual knowing looks between the two of you as Aragorn knew his love wouldn't sleep unless he would.
So with that knowledge, and him sensing his love's rising anxiety at being trapped underground, it now brought them to this.
He tilted your head up from where it was resting against his chest, his hand cupping your face. Aragorn brushed a few loose strands of hair off your face from where it had fallen out of place as his own head tilted down towards yours. His hand gently entwined with your other, and he paused in his movements, allowing you to decide next.
You gently reached up, threading your hand through his long locks and gently pulling him down towards you. He pressed his lips to yours, mouth moving slowly, softly, intimately.
He pulled away, your lips chasing after his, a small smile gracing his lips as he pressed another kiss, and then another, and then another to your lips.
the type of kiss where you can't find words to say after, or the ones where your forehead lingers against each other's
Aragorn's horse trotted through helms deep, having just pulled him up from the river bed where if not found, he would've succumbed to his wounds. He dismounted his horse and received a scolding from Gimli before forcing himself up the staircases and into the deep.
Legolas rose from outside the doors, greeting his friend who believed him dead. The elf pulled him into a familiar embrace before pulling back and making a sarcastic comment about the ranger.
The elf turned a small smile gracing his face before yelling the name of a person. The ranger followed his line of sight. It fell on his love, you.
You looked up after the elf who yelled out to you, before seeing the man you mourned for standing with him. Abandoning your stuff, you ran to him, arms thrown over his shoulders and crushing him to your chest as a few sobs left you.
His arms encircled you as he leant his forehead against yours. He didn't care at that point about the mud caking him and he didn't think you cared enough at that point, so it made no odds on whether he was careful or not.
He pulled back slightly, raising his hand to caress your face before pressing his lips to yours. Tears left both of you as his mouth moved languidly with yours.
Aragorn pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He wanted to say so much to you, fearing that he would never see you again but all thoughts left him as he wished to stay in this moment, longing for nothing but you.
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2. Fili
messy kisses - curly hair, ruffled sheets and half-buttoned clothes as you just want more and at that moment, they're the most beautiful soul to you ever
The sun trickled in through the window, bypassing the curtains that hadn't been fully drawn across the night before. The young (ish) couple lounged in the bed, bodies pressed together as close as they could get with the few layers of clothes still between them.
He tilted your head up to meet his, his lips pressing against yours, moving languidly in the early morn. Fili reached up, hand caressing your courting and marriage braids that were still somewhat intact.
He groaned, feeling one of your hands gripping the hair at the base of his neck and the other slipping under his shirt across his chest.
Fili pulled back, eyes fluttering open to meet yours; your own half-lidded as you drew in a few stuttering breaths. It was a pleasant greeting from your love first thing in the morning, one that you would be against again.
You gazed up at Fili, the dwarf hovering over you, careful not to rest his entire body weight on you. The tressels of sunlight filtered through his hair, causing a glow to shine over him.
His eyes trailed over your face, memorising every detail as if it was the first time he saw you.
kisses on your body ♡ frail kisses on your shoulder! on your lower back, belly and trailing to your neck, collarbones, lips.
A cry of pain left your lips.
Oin pulled the blood-soaked cloth away from where it was pressed tightly against your side. The infection from the arrow had spread, the orcs having laced it with something deadly.
The pain wasn't something Fili wished on anyone, much less you. So he did his best to comfort you whilst the infection ransacked your body. His hands firmly held you, one holding the back of your head, and the other gripping your forearm to stop you from forcing Oin's hand away from the wound he was trying his best to treat.
After Oin had doused the cut in water, trying to flood any dirt that wormed its way in, Fili pulled you closer. The healer moved back to gather some more altheas and cloths, leaving you curled against your prince's chest.
Fili dropped his head down to your shoulder, as your tears continued to douse his shirt - not that he cared as it was covered in sweat, grime, and whatever else from the trip across middle earth - his hand on your head slipping down to the back of your neck, stroking his fingers in what he hoped was a soothing pattern.
He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, the fabric of your tunic had been pulled away, cut away for easier access. It would need replacing, he noted, but hoped that it would be enough to cover you until the sun rose again.
Fili continued his ministrations, pressing another kiss further up your shoulder. And then another at the junction where it met your neck. He considered pressing one to your neck, in that one spot he knew made you shiver, but with the way you were sitting in his lap you were already considered improper in public, so he begrudgingly decided against it.
Oin chose to return at that moment, pressing the churned-up altheas against your wound and then tying the cleanest cloth over it. You cried out in pain, more tears falling. It was like someone was driving a burning knife into your arm, over, and over, and over again. The pain rolling in waves.
Fili kept whispering words of praises and comfort, the Kadzhul translations lost in your mind as all you could feel was the pain, and him.
The knot was finally tied on the bandage. Fili slid his hand from the back of your neck to cup your face, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead before leaning his own upon yours.
I'm here, you're safe now, I love you, the action spoke more words than Fili could find himself saying.
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3. Haldir
lazy kisses as they admire you - fingers delicately trialing your jaw as they kiss your lips
"Haldir," you groaned, leaning back against his chest, head turned up to face him. A smile graced his lips, his eyes locked with yours, shining full of love.
It wasn't often you got to spend a prolonged period of time with your Marchwarden, especially with him being gone for months at a time to guard Lothlórien's borders. So any time you spent with him was precious, even if you knew he would be leaving at the end of it again.
The braid in his hair was loose, albeit from your hands running through his hair earlier, causing him to have a sexy, but dishevelled look. The thought of elves being supermodels no matter what state they were in flashed through your mind again causing you to chuckle slightly.
Haldir raised his hand, letting it linger under your jaw as he delicately leaned down to place another kiss against your lips. Warmth bloomed through you and as his lips moved against yours, all thought about him having to leave again in a few days retreated into the depths of your mind.
You were drunk off the taste of him, off his kisses as he stole your breath each time. And nothing would ever change that.
goodbye kisses - kisses lingering like liquor in each other's lips, bitter but sweet, "I'll always come back to you, love. you're my home after all."
The boats gifted to the fellowship had just finished being prepared and were packed full of provisions to last you a good while.
The thought of having to leave your home again haunted you but not just because it was where you lived. No, because this time you were leaving your love, not knowing when you were to see him again. He was your home.
The Marchwarden was allowed to see his love off, having been granted a week's leave whilst you and the fellowship recovered and stayed in Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien. After you were sent as an emissary to Imladris, Rivendell in the common tongue, and word had returned that you had embarked on a journey to destroy the one ring, Haldir was worried for you.
He knew the history of the ring, as did most if not all elves and was worried about the dangers you may face. He knew that you could protect yourself, having been a sparring partner against you for years, but the worry did not dissipate.
He met you at the shoreline, his hand over his heart in the traditional greeting before he held your hand in his. Sadness filled his eyes as he wished not to see you leave, but knowing that this was a journey you were willing to take.
Haldir leant his head against yours as he fixed the cloak hung around your shoulders, ensuring that the broach was attached properly.
His hands lingered on your waist as he prepared himself to say goodbye again. It was one thing being the one who was leaving, but now that he was on the receiving side for once, he now knew how your heart felt each time he went on patrol. That feeling of not knowing if you were coming back or not eating at his heart.
Your hand on his cheek stole his spiralling mind from his thoughts as your lips pressed against his. A tear threatened to leave his eye as he consumed your kiss like a drug. The fear bubbling in his chest soothing to make way for the love he held for you but the melancholy feeling at having to be parted from you made it more bittersweet than anything.
His lips lingered over yours as you pulled away, his hand raising to stoke a strand of hair back from your face. Haldir wished he could keep you here in his arms but understood the task you had undertaken would not be dropped lightly.
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4. Kili
kissing and realising this is the person you'll always love, you'll always want to touch and snuggle with
Kili didn't think he could hold you any closer than he currently was.
You were practically melded into him, hands gripping tightly to the back of his jacket. The clothing was still damp from the thunderous storm you had walked through, but nonetheless had to still wear.
The terror that shot through him as the thunder giant collided with the mountain, believing that he had lost not only his brother but you as well, was something he never wished to feel again. His hands trembled slightly at the thought.
He shifted slightly, taking some pressure off his shoulder whilst pulling you upwards slightly so you were level with him. The ground wasn't pleasant to lie on, less so on his side, and even less so with damp clothes on, but Kili knew this was the company's best option right now.
Kili rested his head against yours, his eyes meeting yours. He nudged his nose with yours affectionately, giving you time to pull away.
It was something he always did, you noted. Every time he wanted to kiss you but couldn't find the words to say it, or was surrounded by too many prying eyes, he did that. Gave you that tell that allowed you to decide what happens next.
You tentatively leant forwards, tilting your head upwards ever so slightly, letting your lips press against his. There was no rush. No incessant desire to pull the other closer, just him.
Kili moved his lips slowly with yours, savouring every moment that he got with you. Fuck, he loved you. The realisation pulled at his heartstrings more, knowing that he could've lost you today.
prohibited kiss - you're not even supposed to be seeing each other but your hands are on his hair and his hands around your waist, lower bodies pressing into each other as you kiss
Laughter radiated through your body as you were pulled through the endless turns and corridors of Erebor. The stone walls were lined with torches and braziers all lit with fires burning brightly.
To anyone else, it would be a maze, a catacomb of tunnels that unless sense was made of them, would surely lead to your demise. But years of living there had engraved the pathways into your mind, and no doubt Kili's.
His hand dragged you to a secluded corner, himself coming to a halt. He could no longer hear the guards trying to follow the two of you. Pride flooded his chest as he gazed back at you, finally alone with his betrothed.
You were finally able to get a good look at him, now that he didn't have all the dwarrowdams fawning over him. Even if he wasn't "beautiful" by dwarf standards, he was still a prince and would have people trying to gain his favour.
But his title didn't matter to you. Kili did.
And by the creator himself, did you love the way he looked. His hair tousled from the running, and the short beard he was so desperately trying to grow accentuated his face.
But the ceremonial robes that hung to his body? You couldn't resist.
He found himself pushed back, pinned against the pillar. Kili's eyes locked with yours, the same fire of desire within him, burning through you.
Your lips pressed with his, mouths moving frantically with the others. Your hands that gripped onto the front of his robes slid up, trailing up his neck and into his hair, pulling slightly to press him into you more.  A groan left him at a particularly harsh tug before your hand moved to trace his courting braid.
He pulled away, panting, breathless, kissing you again and pulling you into him, arms gripping your waist, hands in his hair, your bodies practically merging into one. If his Amad caught him now, he wouldn't even have to face the scornful looks of Dwalin, he would already be lying in his grave.
But could he let you go? Fuck no.
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5. Legolas
shy kisses - when you're the one pulling them closer, and they nuzzle their face in your crook after the kiss, hands around your waist as their ears get red
You were scared. If anything you were currently lustful, but you were about to fight in a war against ten thousand troops with an army of less than a third of that. So you were scared.
Legolas had turned to where you leant against one of the pillars, choosing to come and check all the fastenings on your armour. He was meticulous and methodical as he went to each and every one, adjusting where he deemed necessary whilst checking it caused you no discomfort.
A soft smile graced your face, as you watch his gentle movements before reaching out to cup his face in one of your hands. A blush, so subtle anyone who didn’t know Legolas would miss it, warmed his face, his head lifting and eyes locking with yours. It was as if he was staring straight into your soul, his piercing grey eyes full of love but fear.
You pulled him towards you, Legolas leaning his head down as his hand held over yours on his face, the other resting gently on your waist. Leaning up, you gently pressed your lips to his. Just once, mind you, the action as tender as possible, letting him come to you.
Legolas leant into you, pressing his lips back against yours, moving at a slow pace. He wanted to savour this moment as much as possible before the two of you walked to what could be your deaths.
ahem.
The clearing of the person's throat sprung the two of you apart, you mentally preparing for the endless stream of apologies to whichever passerby caught you, only for it to be someone you knew all too well.
"Aragorn." You spoke, heavily embarrassed to be caught with your lover.
The ranger looked between the two of you, his face being that awful neutral resting one making it so you couldn't judge his feelings on the matter. Aragorn must have read the panic starting to creep up in you as a teasing smile broke out.
“I have no qualms with this,” he began before looking over his shoulder towards the entrance of the armoury, “but the people of Rohan may not be as forgiving if you are caught.”
He turned on his heel, making his way up the staircase and leaving the two to their devices.
A moment passed and then a chuckle left your lips as a sigh left Legolas’. His head fell to your shoulder as the blush absconding his cheeks spread like wildfire tinting his ears a rosy colour.
At least it was only Aragorn, you mused, If Gimli had found you then he wouldn’t stop teasing your elf.
kisses of reassurance - saying that you're safe, still with them, that your heart is still beating wildly in your chest, that they couldn't get rid of you if they tried, that for some insane reason, you're not dead yet
Your chest heaved, trying to inhale as much air as possible as you sprinted up the mud-soaked hill. Aragorn had yelled for the soldiers to retreat into Minas Tirith and you were making your way as fast as you could until an arrow pierced your shoulder.
The doors were closed and sealed as you entered alongside the last few stragglers, a resounding bang from the wood hitting the stone frame. The room spun on its axis.
The throbbing pain in your arm continued, each ebb seeming stronger which was probably due to the adrenaline wearing off. Maybe you should've stayed fighting, it surely couldn't hurt as much as your arm did, you thought as your uninjured arm reached out to hold yourself up against the wall.
Giving up on keeping yourself upright, you slid falling somewhat ungracefully to the floor, blood dripping from your wound and soaking your sleeve. It was funny how much damage one arrow could cause.
You blinked.
The sun had risen, and from where you could see it, it was around mid-morning. Your eyes focused and you could see a worried face in a sea of platinum blonde hair. Legolas.
Ignoring the sound of the elf’s worry, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, as he gracefully knelt down next to you. His hands mindlessly moved to cup your face, as he had to pull his eyes away from your crudely bandaged arm. The arrow had been jagged and cut more as it pierced you, causing more blood to be lost.
Your hand covered one of his as Legolas moved to press his forehead to yours.
“I'm okay,” you whispered, breaking the silence between the two of you. Your thumb stroked the back of his hand absentmindedly, as you tilted your head up, meeting his lips with yours. It was one of desperation, longing and fear. A shuddered breath left you as the two of you broke apart.
“We’re okay.”
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magicovento · 1 year
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This is my taste in men
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tinfairies · 1 year
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Hey so we talked before about hair braiding being intimate to elves. Can we have headcanons of reader just coming up behind them and starts braiding it casually and Legolas and Thranduil reacting to it? I feel they’d be like “wow she’s so forward (〃 ̄ω ̄〃ゞ” 🤣
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Thranduil
Of course he knows that this human isn't aware of elvish culture and the significance of braiding.
That doesn't stop him from being a bit surprised, then smug about it.
He would use it as a way to subtly claim his human. Making sure the other elves see them braiding his hair.
He might tell them about what braiding means for elves, but that won't be until he has them firmly in his grasp.
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Legolas
Despite what his culture says about braiding, he loves having his hair played with.
He thinks it's cute that this human doesn't know, but is also glad for it. Legolas loves physical affection and he doesn't get much of it from his kind.
Will definitely show the braids off to other elves, boasting about his human's skill.
They will probably find out about what braids mean, but until then Legolas plans to soak up as much attention as he can.
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entishramblings · 2 months
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Haunting Me
[Legolas/F!Reader]
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A.N: I have been struggling to write (like usual), so I figured I would whip out a no pressure Legolas fic. ANYWAYS, I strangely loved writing this!!! Thanks for the request XOXO
Request: @goose-gremlin — “Could you maybe do a Legolas x Reader on their period?”
Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader
Summary: The Reader is a member of Greenwood's Guard and is struggling with menstrual/period pain. Legolas takes care of her.
Disclaimer: I don't know elvish. I use the gracious elvish dictionary. Sue me lol
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: blood, menstruation/period, pain, PMS, slight nakedness (not anything spicy you filthy fools), fluff, sweet precious elf boy
MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD
(Y/N)’s nose twitched, the pungent, musty scent of the incoming vile beasts invaded the fresh earthy tones of the Greenwood forest. Her keen ears picked up on subtle scurrying, the sound carried by the drift of the soft wind. Her jaw clenched and her fingers adjusted the grasp of her sword as she felt the aura of the trees shift—a surge of adrenaline fueling her anxiety, worsening the pain in her abdomen. Briefly locking eyes with the other elves in her sector, spread among the trees alert and ready, she knew their moment of action was imminent.
(Y/N) summoned the little energy she had through a deep inhale, praying to the Valar that these spiders wouldn't be in such a frenzied state. Because, if so, fuck that. For at the present moment in time, she really didn't have the capacity to deal with that absolute, motherfucking horseshit.
Because, truly, getting killed due to slowness from fatigue and cramps from one’s bloodmoon cycle would be rather unfortunate and deeply regrettable. However, facing expulsion from the guard and losing her reputation as one of the hand-picked defenders of the royal line because of it would be even worse.
(Y/N)’s gaze narrowed as Prince Legolas, leader of the Greenwood Guard, raised a closed fist.
Nêl (Three).
Tâd (Two).
Mîn (One).
He opened his palm, signaling the command: Kill them. Kill them all.
With a firm thud, (Y/N)'s boots landed on the soft soil as she sprung from the trees. She was quick with her blade, hunting the spiders as if they were meaningless prey. Her weapon was an extension of her form. Every movement was fluid and graceful, a testament to her mastery of combat. Despite her pain, she spun and twisted with ease, severing the arachnids' limbs effortlessly.
As she fought, she made sure to keep an eye on the Prince, knowing that if anything were to happen to Legolas under her watch, the king would surely banish her. Besides, she harbored no desire for him to meet his demise. She found him rather…admirable. Nothing more than that—of course not.
As (Y/N) advanced upon one of the vile beasts, her senses tingled with warning. Abruptly, she halted in her tracks, narrowly dodging an arrow that whizzed past her stomach. Her eyes narrowed as she wiped her head to see just who fired that arrow. A scoff escaped her lips as she locked eyes with him: Rekón.
When the battle came to an end, (Y/N) strutted towards Rekón, who was wiping the edge of his blade upon his thigh.
“What the hell was that out there?!” She snapped at him.
“What is it you speak of?”
“You nearly put an arrow in me!”
He shrugged. “Perhaps, you should have been faster, Shadowfoot.”
She scoffed at Greenwood’s nickname for her. “You're lucky I am fast. I can assume you don’t want elven blood on your hands—especially my blood.
He sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. “Don’t exaggerate, (Y/N). It’s unbecoming. Besides,” he leaned in and his voice lowered, taking on a snarky tone, “I don't care if you're handpicked by the King to be the Prince’s shadow, you're a pain in the ass.”
“Really, Otuuk Fe`Saign (warg kisser)?! I could have you and your ass in the mud faster than you could say—”
The rather tense interaction was interrupted by Legolas clearing his throat beside the pair. “What is going on over here?” he demanded.
(Y/N) huffed, not taking her eyes off the man before her. “Rekón here nearly redecorated my abdomen with a fucking arrow!”
The Prince sighed. “You know we can’t always calculate every motion on the battlefield, (Y/N). I am sure Rekón meant no harm.” He paused, turning his attention to the ellon. “Rekón, in the future, mind your arrows.”
“That’s the reprimand he gets?! Are you fu—“
Legolas looked at the elleth. “Watch your language, Shadowfoot. I expect this attitude to be gone by the time we enter my father’s halls.”
With that, Legolas walked away, calling out orders to burn the spider carcasses and move out.
As he disappeared into the mess of elves, (Y/N)’s brows pulled downward in a grumpy frown. “Princeling Ass,” she murmured to herself.
Unbeknownst to her, as she turned away, Legolas' gaze followed her, seeking out her form and lingering as she walked away.
….
The sun had not yet risen when the Prince’s sector of the Greenwood Guard arrived back in the Palace. The warriors dispersed into the armory, diligently stowing their weapons and armor in their designated places. (Y/N), however, did no such thing. Instead, with a persistent scowl etched on her face, she marched through the room and passed through the arched exit of the armory—presumably heading towards her chambers. Legolas's gaze tracked her suspiciously as she departed.
As the day progressed, the members of the Prince’s sector resumed their usual routines. Because it was their first day back from patrol, they were exempt from basic guard duties and standard positions. Instead, they utilized the early hours of the morning to bathe and rejuvenate themselves before gathering in the dining hall for breakfast. The remainder of the day was theirs to unwind and compile their patrol reports—the King sought to stay informed about all occurrences and perspectives during patrols, for a darkness seemed to be spreading among his trees.
At supper, Legolas moved among the tables in the dining hall, gathering last-minute reports from the warriors in his sector. As he did so, he scanned the long wooden benches, searching for the scowling gaze that had accompanied the last couple of days of patrol; however, there was no such gaze and no such person that it belonged to. Simply put, there was no sign of (Y/N).
She had missed all three meals and had failed to submit her patrol report.
Legolas cleared his throat before he addressed the elves from whom he was collecting papers. “Have you seen Shadowfoot? I need her report,” he inquired.
They shook their heads, more interested in their food than one missing shadow.
Legolas sighed, but refrained from pressing further. If anyone knew her whereabouts, they would have mentioned it.
Therefore, he made his way to her quarters.
When he arrived, he knocked softly on the door, but was met with silence.
"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying through the wooden barrier.
Still, there was no response.
After a moment’s hesitation, Legolas reached for the door knob and twisted it slowly. The wood swung open quietly under his touch, exposing the darkness of the room beyond. Moonlight filtered in through the opened window, casting shadows that danced across the floor, the curtains billowing gently in the cold night air.
Legolas carefully stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him. As he took in his surroundings further, surprise crossed his features. He didn't know what he had been expecting since he hadn't been in (Y/N)’s quarters, but it most certainly was not this.
The room was a complete mess. Clothing lay strewn about, along with various trinkets—small hand-carved boxes, beautiful natural rocks, and melted candles absent of flame. Several stacks of books were piled beside the bed, a few of them open and their pages still. Her weapons were scattered haphazardly, some resting on the floor, others on the table or atop the dresser. Legolas even noticed a few knives embedded into the wooden door—a sight that would surely displease Ada.
It was chaotic but calm in a sort of strange way. Typical for (Y/N), he supposed.
The Prince moved to walk further into the room, but was quickly halted against his will. His foot had gotten caught and, if it wasn't for his swift reflexes, he would have face-planted upon the stone flooring.
Legolas sucked in a sharp breath as he stabilized his form. Glancing down, he discovered the culprit—a crumpled tunic tangled around his boot, its fabric caught between the lacings.
He immediately sighed in dismay.
The blond-haired Prince reached down to untangle the stubborn garment. It proved to be a more challenging task than he had anticipated, requiring a few moments of quiet curses and annoyed grunts before he managed to free himself. Carefully, he folded the fabric and placed it upon a nearby chair.
Cautiously, he advanced to the large bed. At first, he could not spot the warrior within, given that the fluffy comforter and mountain of pillows were blocking his view. However, when he pulled back the blankets slightly, sure enough, she was buried deep within. The pillows were arranged around her like a protective nest and she was laying on her side. Her hair was splattered across the cushioned fabric and her expression was…one of pain. Her brows were pulled tight, her nose crinkled, and lips slightly parted.
At this, Legolas frowned, for he was now troubled deeply.
Diligently, the Prince reached out to brush some hair from her face, but just as his fingers made contact with her cheek, his action was interrupted.
(Y/N) suddenly sat up, a knife in hand. With wild eyes, she tried to slam it into his carotid artery.
He reacted quickly, Legolas intercepted her arm, preventing the blade from reaching its target. For a moment, they both froze in that tense position, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they processed what was happening.
(Y/N) was breathing quickly and she appeared very disheveled and confused. It seemed to take her a moment longer to grasp the situation fully.
"Jukkete (fuck)," she breathed out, trying to catch her breath before snapping at him. "Legolas, I almost killed you!"
The Prince still held her wrist. “(Y/N),” he began, “Are you alright?”
She huffed. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that, Princeling!" With a sharp twist, she pulled away from his grasp and settled back into the blankets. “What are you doing here?”
He raised his brows. “Princeling?” he questioned, a hint of amusement in his tone.
(Y/N) only grunted in response.
He sighed. “No one has seen you all day and—“ his sentence abruptly halted as he noticed a red stain upon the comforter. “(Y/N), you are bleeding!” He exclaimed. Without hesitation, he grasped at the blankets, in an attempt to detangle her form from them, as he continued his babbling of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured on patrol?!”
“Legolas,” she interrupted, her voice firm.
“Is it from Rekón’s arrow?! I thought you said he ‘nearly’ hit you?”
“Legolas,” she tried again.
He yanked the blanket further.” Because I swear to the Valar if it was from him, I will—“
“Legolas! Stop!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not injured.”
His jaw clenched in frustration. “(Y/N), I have been a warrior for all my life, I know the site of blood. That is blood. You cannot lie to me. I am your sector leader, your Prince—“
“Legolas! It’s my bloodmoon cycle!” she interrupted, sitting up to glare at him once more.
An awkward silence settled into the dark room.
“You are in pain,” he stated.
“I’m fine.”
His brows raised again. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you're a princeling ass,” she retorted.
“No. Because for the last three days of patrol, your demeanor has been notably irritable, as you are now. You've been favoring your left side, your jaw has remained tightly clenched, and your skin a shade too pale. Not to mention, you've consistently had your hand on your hip, I'm assuming in an attempt to try and alleviate discomfort, and you even vomited behind a tree on two occasions. And, here you are, Shadowfoot, in bed, sleeping the day away in dirty clothes and not caring that you lay in blood.” He paused before finalizing his evidence. “You are in pain.”
“You have been spying on me?! I am supposed to be your shadow.”
“I have been keeping an eye on you,” he clarified.
“Why?!”
The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Because you are a member of my sector. You are my responsibility.”
“You are my responsibility,” she corrected.
He released hot air from his nose. “I am required to keep an eye on all of my warriors, whether they were hand-picked to guard me or not.”
(Y/N) huffed, shaking her head. “Did you know Sethna took a pretty nasty hit to her leg?”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” he gruffed.
“Legolas, did you know about it or not?”
A rather long moment of silence extended into the night before the Prince reluctantly responded in a low tone. “No.”
“Then you don't watch every warrior like you watch me.”
He inhaled slowly, trying to steer the conversation away from what (Y/N) was insinuating. “Is Sethna alright?”
“Yeah, she’s fine.”
Legolas nodded slowly, before returning to the main topic. “Why didn't you tell me you were in pain while on patrol?”
She rolled her eyes before muttering his name. “Legolas.”
“Why haven't you seen a healer?” he persisted.
She exhaled slowly, knowing Legolas wasn't going to let this go. “Because the healers document everything, and those records get attached to evaluations.”
“So?”
“So, I would be dismissed from the guard and relieved of my position!” she snapped.
He snorted lightly. “You would not be dismissed from the guard nor relieved of your position.”
“Others have gotten so for far less!”
Surprising her, his normally collected tone turned into a rough reply. “That doesn't mean that you would have!”
She frowned, her once loud voice now subdued. “What's that supposed to mean?”
He sent her a warning look, his eyes cautioning her against probing further.
Silence reigned for a third time that night before Legolas spoke softly. “Rest. I will draw you a bath.”
“Princeling, I do not need you to draw me a bath. I do not need a bath at all. Like I said, I am fine.”
He shook his head. “You are in pain. Let me help you.”
“Legolas–”
He cut her off. “(Y/N), do not try to argue with me on this. That is an order. Shadow or not, I am your superior and you will listen.”
With that, he stood and made his way into the bathing chambers, leaving the elleth alone with her thoughts.
She let out a slow, contemplative exhale before sinking back into the embrace of the bed once more. Lost in a haze of exhaustion, she must have drifted into a brief slumber, for it was only moments later that Legolas returned, his thumb brushing against her cheek. His voice, barely above a whisper, reached her ears. “(Y/N),” he urged softly. “Come. The water is hot. It will alleviate your pain.”
Groggily, she opened her eyes, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow.
“Come,” he repeated.
Gradually, she sat upwards, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, praying to the Valar for the pain to settle.
“If the pain is too much, I can carry you,” Legolas offered in a gentle tone.
She scoffed, her eyes opening to glare at him. “I can manage on my own.”
With that declaration, (Y/N) stood up and took a few cautious steps forward. But before she could proceed further, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as the agony surged through her body, causing her to double over.
A comforting warmth enveloped her lower back as Legolas placed a reassuring hand there. He remained silent, respecting her pace and refraining from pressing his earlier offer.
A small whimper escaped her lips, tears threatening to escape from her eyes.
Legolas’ hand began to move in soft circles. “It will pass, Shadowfoot. I am here,” he whispered.
Slowly, she resumed her movement, inching her way towards the bathroom. Upon reaching the basin's edge, she gripped onto the sides tightly. She squeezed her lids shut once more, focusing on her breath.
Standing only inches behind her, Legolas spoke softly. “(Y/N), please, will you let me assist you? I hate to see you suffer.”
She exhaled through her nose, seemingly debating his offer. After a moment of contemplation, she relented. “Fine,” she stated, “but if you breathe a word of this—”
“I will not say a thing. I swear it,” he assured.
She nodded, accepting his promise.
“Let's get you undressed and in the bath then.”
With caution, his nimble fingers found the hem of her tunic and began to lift it over her head. Ensuring her stability by placing one hand gently on her hip, he then carefully guided her trousers downward, assisting her as she stepped out of them. Shaking slightly, she lifted each foot into the tub, one at a time, as the Prince's firm hand remained securely on her waist. Slowly, she lowered herself into the water, his touch barely trailing up her back as she descended. Her eyes closed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips, settling into the soothing heat of the water.
Legolas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will just be in the other room. Call out if you need me.”
She simply hummed in response.
The Prince swiftly left the bathing room, making his way to the door leading to the hallway. Peering out, he caught sight of a maid. He called out to her and motioned for her to approach.
“Yes, my lord?” she inquired politely.
“I need you to fetch a new set of bedding and obtain the following herbs: valerian, boswellia, and athelas,” he instructed.
She nodded in understanding.
“And please, keep it discreet. I have an injured warrior in here who wishes for the injury to remain quiet.”
The maid nodded once more before hurrying off to fulfill his requests.
Legolas returned to the room, feeling the cool breeze from the open window once more. With determined strides, he crossed the space and closed it firmly, halting the chill from entering any longer. He then took to light some of the candles, casting a warm glow within the room before moving to the empty fireplace. He quickly grabbed kindling and wood from the basket beside the silent hearth, setting to task. Before long, the flames crackled loudly among the stone, radiating a comforting warmth that dispelled the lingering chill.
It was then when the maid entered, a large basket brimming with fluffy fabric in her arms. Placing it beside the bed, she then retrieved a pouch from the top. Approaching the Prince, she bowed her head. “The herbs you asked for, my lord.”
“Thank you,” he replied, accepting them graciously.
The maid took to changing the sheets, making no mention of the blood. Legolas cleared a space upon the table in (Y/N)’s room. Placing a cast iron pot—one of which was kept in each room—over the now vibrant flames, he filled it with water from a pitcher. As the water began to boil, he used a small bowl to grind the fresh herbs into a paste with a pestle. Once sufficiently smashed, he ladled some of the boiling water over it and allowed the mixture of herbs to steep, filling the air with its earthy aroma.
The maid, having finished her task of making the bed and straightening up, bid an awkward farewell to the Prince before exiting the room.
Legolas sighed, taking a seat in the chair beside the table, his ears attuned to any sounds from (Y/N)'s direction—just in case.
Nearly 45 minutes passed before she emerged from the bathroom. She was clothed in soft trousers and a loose top that hung off her shoulder, her hand pressed lightly against her abdomen.
“How do you feel?” he inquired, breaking the quietness of the night.
She turned her head towards him. “You are still here?” Her gaze swept across the room, trailing off as she took in the sight of the lit candles, crackling fire, and fresh bedding.
Abandoning the chair, he approached her and gently put his hand upon her bicep. “How is the pain, (Y/N)?”
As if suddenly drawn from her thoughts, she registered that he was indeed beside her. “I, uh, it has lessened a bit.”
He nodded, guiding her to the bed. Pulling back the clean sheets, he motioned for her to get in. Surprisingly, she complied, settling into the comfort of the fresh lavender scent emanating from the blankets and pillows.
Legolas briefly left her side before returning with a cup of tea, mixed from the healing herbs. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he lifted the cup to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip. “Drink this. It will help.”
The steam kissed her face as she took the cup from him. As she drank, the warm liquid flowed down her throat and into her stomach, providing instant comfort. When she finished, she passed the cup back to him. “How do you know how to make such a tonic?”
The Prince placed the cup upon the side table. “My father used to care for my mother during her bloodmoon cycle, before she passed from this world. She too had excruciating pain. He taught me the right herbs to mix, the benefits of heat, and—” he paused, his hand moving to her lower back, where he began to massage lightly. “—what points to press to alleviate pain.”
She exhaled slowly, letting her eyes flutter closed.
“He had said, ‘One day, you will have a wife who too suffers such pain. This you must learn for her.’ And I listened.”
(Y/N) did not open her eyes. “I am not your wife.”
Before he could stop himself, his lips betrayed his secrets. “You could be.”
At this, she opened one eye, as if she was trying to subtly evaluate what his words meant based on his body language. Sensing the sincerity upon his expression, her other eye opened too. She put her full attention on him. “What?”
His cheeks flushed, the tips of his elvish ears reddening, though the warm glow of the fire hid his embarrassment. He turned his head away. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I—I didn't mean to be so…so forward.” He hesitated, then looked back at her, seeing her flabbergasted expression. “I–I suppose there is no hiding it now. The reason I keep such close watch over you is because my heart won't let me do otherwise. I fear, well, I fear that you are not just a shadow following my path.” He exhaled softly. “(Y/N), you haunt me in the most beautiful way.”
She shifted from the pillows, drawing closer until her face was mere inches from Legolas’. “You–you care for me?” she whispered.
His hand tenderly cupped her cheek, his thumb moving in a soft motion. “More than I could ever put into words.”
“Legolas,” she whispered. “Your father did not assign me to your sector. I was supposed to be appointed to protect him. I—I requested to be assigned to you.”
The Prince’s gaze met hers. “Why, (Y/N)?”
“Because you too have been haunting me.”
Legolas wasted no time. He pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s in a gentle kiss and she responded eagerly. She tasted of herbal tea and hope, while he tasted of honey and peace. His hands gently cradled her face, while hers found their way to the back of his neck, fingers entwining in his hair. The scent of fresh lavender surrounded her, mingling with the aroma of pine that clung to him. In their embrace, their minds intertwined, both haunted by the other's presence—in the most beautiful way.
Slowly, they parted. Legolas pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before speaking softly. "Lay down. Rest. I will watch over you."
She looked up at him. “Won't you lay with me? I am cold.”
He snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like the stem of a flower being plucked from a spring meadow. “You only want me to alleviate your pain, don't you?”
She grinned back at him. “Perhaps, Princeling. Though, I did not lie, I am cold.”
With a playful roll of his eyes, Legolas kicked off his boots and drew back the covers. He allowed his body to melt against (Y/N)’s, providing warmth as he gently began to massage away her tension.
A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she snuggled further into him, eagerly stealing his warmth and accepting the pain relief he offered.
“Princeling,” she murmured, “You better not breathe a word of this either.”
He chuckled lightly, “I will not say a thing, Shadowfoot. I swear it.”
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victoria-writes · 2 months
Text
I will never forget you.
Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)
Summary: Legolas proposes to you and reassures you that he wants to be with you. Fluff & Angst with a happy ending + bonus ending
Word Count: 1605
Notes:
Reader is human
No gender or pronouns used to refer to the reader. Reader is briefly mentioned to have short hair
MENTIONS OF DEATH (reader's). Don't read if you're not ok with thinking about your own mortality xoxo
Read it on AO3 here
Story:
It has been months since you moved to Mirkwood with the prince following the disbandment of the fellowship and destruction of the one ring. Sometimes your mind would drift to what could’ve happened had the ring fallen into the wrong hands or if any other evil lies dormant, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. You could never sit with these thoughts for long, though. Legolas seemed to have a sixth sense for when you needed to see the good in the world again. Today was one of those days. 
“Come, there is something I wish to show you”, the elf smiled as he stretched his hand out, waiting for you to take it from your place sitting in a wooden chair inside the royal palace. 
“It better not be another elk giving birth in the woods. I’m still traumatized from your idea of ‘the beauty of nature’”, you grimace at the memory still not extending your hand.
“No, no, nothing like that. I promise”, he chuckles softly.
“Fine”.
Legolas had brought you to a clearing in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees and wildflowers. White queen anne’s lace, forget-me-nots, and flowers whose names you did not know, who only seemed to grow near where elves trot, filled your eyes. This is not the first time he’s found a quiet spot in nature to take you, and it will surely not be the last. While overlooking the rainbow of colors seemingly dancing in the field in front of you, you sneak a glance at the elf from the corner of your eye. He stands confidently with his hands behind his back next to you and smiles. If it were anyone else looking at him, they’d think he was completely at ease. Anyone but you. The look in his eyes said “Do you like it? Do you? Please tell me you like it.”. He always wanted to impress you, whether it be shooting three arrows at once when one would suffice, wearing his nicest clothes (“Legolas why are you wearing your ceremonial attire?” “Don’t worry about it, father”.), or finding the best places to take you. Be still, your beating heart. For a nearly 3,000 year old elf, he acted like a lovesick teenager. 
“It’s absolutely beautiful”, you finally say after a long silence. Legolas releases tension in his shoulders he didn’t even realize he was holding. 
“I knew you would. Let us sit in the grass.”, he guided you so that he was sitting with your back against his chest, his legs on either side. 
You felt your tongue form teasing words about him taking you on a hike to a remote spot just for a cuddle, but they faded away as he wrapped his arms around your sides and began to plant soft, slow kisses on your neck and shoulder. You melted into his warm touch. 
“May I braid your hair?”
“Yes, but there’s not much to braid.”, you reply. You had recently gotten a haircut and felt as though Legolas may be disappointed. He was very enthusiastic about your new look the first time he saw it, but now you fear he may not enjoy it. 
“Nonsense, I shall make many small plaits instead”.
“Alright”, you relaxed into his hands as he began to weave strands of hair behind you. You closed your eyes, as you reveled in the feeling of the sunlight on your face as he worked. All was quiet aside from the occasional bird chirping or squirrel running up a tree. A warm feeling took hold in your chest and you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. You were safe. You were happy. You were in love. 
Millenia seemed to pass before Legolas announced he was done. True to his word, he had formed many braids in your hair. He may have gone a little overboard with just how many he made, but he just loved the feeling of being so close to you and never wanted it to end. 
“Thank you”, you whisper as your turn to face him, giving him a peck on the lips. You move your hand to feel the back of your head, itching to feel the braids your lover gifted you. Soft. Your fingers feel something soft. Something thin and soft. 
“Forget-me-not flowers”, Legolas clarified, seeing you trying to decipher with your fingers, “I thought them appropriate”.
“Why is that?” “They are gifted to one whose presence you enjoy, so as not to forget them, as the name implies. I could never forget you and I hope you would not forget me. Each past day with you is a beloved memory and each day to come cannot come soon enough. I treasure each moment with you. I feel myself drowning in my affection for you. No, peacefully swimming. I adore you. I cannot bear to be without you.”, he says softly as he holds both your hands and kisses each one, never breaking eye contact.
“Oh, Legolas”
“Meleth nîn”, he uses his hands to guide you both to your feet. As you look up into his bright blue eyes, he whispers “Please allow me to never be without you. Allow me to walk beside you for all the days we may share together before death takes us. I have lived millennia without you. Now that I know what life is like with you in it, I never want to go back. I want you with me, always.”
“Are you asking me-?”, you begin as he kneels down in front of you and pulls out a ring from his pocket.
“Y/N, will you marry me?”, he gazes at you with hope in his eyes as he lifts the ring towards you. 
“Yes. Yes. Yes!”, he quickly puts the ring on your left ring finger and you pull him into a harsh kiss. You and the elf wear matching smiles as you kiss long and hard. 
“I’m so happy, Legolas…but is this what you really want?”, your smile drops as your nerves hit you. “Of course, my love. Why do you question my intentions?”.
“It’s not your intentions that I question. It’s just that you’re…you”, you vaguely gesture at the elf.
“I’m not following.”
“You’re a prince. I’m poor. You’re an elf that’ll live thousands of years. I’m a human that’ll be lucky if I make it to 70.” “I don’t care about that.”
“Your father won’t approve.” “I care not what my father thinks. His opinion of our union will not sway me.” 
“Then what of my mortality? One day I will die and leave you alone.”
He sighs before he speaks, “I must admit I have thought long and hard on this subject. The thought of your death pains me to no end.” “Exactly. Our marriage would be short-lived in your long lifetime and I will become nothing but a memory to you, one that will fade one day.”
“What are you saying?” “I’m saying you love me now, but one day I will die and you’ll move on and I’ll mean nothing to you. One day you’ll laugh at how you ever loved a silly human”, tears began to well in your eyes, shame overtaking you as you finally let out the fears you’ve been harboring all this time. Your gaze drifts downwards, unable to face your elven lover. Legolas’ eyes widened in realization, shocked at your true feelings. He manages to compose himself and lifts your chin up with his index finger. 
“Meleth nîn, look at me. Y/N, please.”, he whispers his request. 
“It is true that my life will continue when yours ends.”
Hot tears began to run down your cheeks at this. 
“But”, he swipes the tears away with his thumb, “You will always be a part of it. Even when you are gone, I will love you. You have shown me love that I did not think was possible. When you are gone, I will visit your grave with flowers each day. I will braid my hair and miss the touch of yours. I will never remarry. I will walk the paths we have taken together. I will meditate in this very spot, remembering this moment. I will never forget you. In life and in death, we are connected. I love you”.
“And I love you”, you barely choke the words out through your tears. 
“Knowing all this, my silly human,”he teases before turning serious, “Will you marry me?” “Of course, I’ll marry you, you ridiculous elf”.
You both grin as Legolas lifts you up and spins you in his arms. When your feet are planted on the Earth again he kisses you deeply. As you feel your lips on your own, you imagine a thousand more kisses each day with him for the rest of your days. 
Bonus
Many moons have passed since your passing. Legolas meant every word of his promise and has done all that he said. Before he rests each night, he reads the book on his nightstand, your favorite book of poems. He recalls reading it to you on nights your eyes were too tired as he pet your hair while you laid on his chest. When he wakes each morning, he glares at the large empty space beside it, wishing it were you. Although his heart pangs at the loss of you, he finds joy and comfort in revisiting your old haunts, his favorite being the spot where he proposed to you. Today, our elf wanders into the cemetery. “Hello, meleth nîn”, he smiles as he places a bouquet of freshly picked forget-me-nots on your grave.
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kierancaz · 9 months
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how many people would be mad if I wrote Legolas with Kenergy
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thienthaoismyrealname · 2 months
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hes just a baby
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edges-of-night · 9 months
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Hello! I was wondering if I could request something? Fellowship x reader where the reader gets injured in a battle or something and confessed their feelings before passing out… and when they wake up they find out their feelings r returned 🤭 I love ur requests they r so very cute! Thank u!
That was such a lovely request to write, nonnie! I’m really sorry you had to wait for it so long. Also, thank you for your kind words!
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・゚✧ Aragorn.
Initially, Aragorn would not treat you much differently after your recovery – so much so that you start wondering if you actually confessed your feelings to him or hallucinated that whole part. But all Aragorn wants to do is find the right moment to talk to you. Once he does, he’d gently take your hands in his and tell you how much you mean to him – and that your feelings are in fact reciprocated! Confessing your love first gave him the courage to do the same. “I am not well versed in these fields. But I hope I can show you my heart just as bluntly as you did yours.”
・゚✧ Boromir.
Boromir would not be around when you wake up. The others tell you he was simply shocked by your passing out and that he needed time to adjust and would be overjoyed to hear you’re fine – but you suspect it would be something else that scared him away. You’d find him pondering in a lone corner, afraid of how he’ll react to seeing you again – only to see his hardened face light up when your eyes meet his – and then he’d rush to kiss you! “I’ve been a fool for not understanding it sooner. Forgive me…!” ♡
・゚✧ Frodo.
I like to think that out of the Fellowship, Frodo would be the most mature to handle your love confession. After all, he knows your injuries aren’t lethal and worries not about what happens next, since he is very clear in his own feelings. After you wake up, he greets you with a smile, takes your hand to make sure you’re fine – and lowers his voice to say, “I’ll call the others right away. But before that, I need you to remember the last thing you said to me. I feel the same.” He’d give you the cutest smile, shining all the way up to his blue eyes.
・゚✧ Gandalf.
Gandalf, being the one who tried to heal you in the moment you passed out, tries ignoring your dramatic love confession and silently urges the others to forget what they overheard. That said, he is very flattered – after all, he’s been enamoured with you for a while now. Still, his romance is quiet and subdued. He’d sit next to you with a smile when you wake up. At first, you thought his behaviour was unchanged – until he ends his sentences toward you with “darling” or “my dear”. There is a playful spark in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know. (Eventually, he would also spell out ‘I love you too’ in fireworks or butterflies!)
・゚✧ Gimli.
Gimli stays with you during your recovery, guarding your bed day and night, so dutifully that the others need to remind him of eating. Once you wake up, you’d meet his soft eyes, only to watch them harden when you try to speak to him: “Don’t do that again! Ever!” – “What? Talk to you…?” – “Scare me like that!” he corrects, grumbling into his beard. “What’s a lad supposed to do when his sweetheart passes out in his arms?” You smile blissfully as you understand and offer him a hug that Gimli more than eagerly returns!
・゚✧ Legolas.
Legolas is entirely stumped when you pass out after that dramatic “I love you”. There is a frown on his pretty face for the next few hours, waiting for you to wake up again. When you do, you’re terribly embarrassed by the way he’s staring at you through his Elven eyes. He’d fixate you and ask, “Did you mean it? What you said to me?” You’d blush and retort that yes, of course you meant it – and that is enough to make his bright smile and joy return. “What a relief! I feared that if it had been but a fever, my reciprocation would ring false, or sound like a mockery. Please know it’s nothing but the truth!” And he’d take your hands and lean in for a quick and happy kiss!
・゚✧ Merry.
At first, Merry would not believe what he heard just before you passed out. During your recovery, he retreats into dark corners to think and rationalise – people say all kinds of stupid things when they thought they were about to die, right? You couldn’t possibly be in love with him – not when there are so many other people – taller people – all around you. So, imagine his surprise when you do ask him for a private conversation after waking up, to set everything straight. Only Merry doesn’t accept your apology. “What’s there to apologise for? You said what you felt in that moment. It’s not like I didn’t like what I heard, I feel the same, after all…” And then, you both share an ‘oh!’ moment before you laugh and fall into the other’s arms!
・゚✧ Pippin.
Pippin would initially be overwhelmed by your confession and subsequent passing out. However, he’s positive you’ll be fine, firmly believing that no matter how important, these matters needn’t be so dramatic. He’d treat you as casually as always after your recovery, though you can’t deny there is a spring in his steps and a smile on his face whenever you’re talking. You now know that your feelings are returned, and yet you still blush when he tells you over a shared bowl of strawberries: “I don’t think I’ve told you yet, but I love you, too! Very much so! I’ve thought of a few different pet names to call you, but I wanted to clarify that first. So, just tell me which one you like best…”
・゚✧ Sam.
Sam would not leave your side, no matter how long you were passed out. Whenever someone would try and tear him away, he’d explain that he has something very important to discuss with you when you wake up. He would practice romantic speeches and poems to recite for you, really thinking the whole thing through – only to remain absolutely speechless when your eyes do meet his. After your initial greeting – “Thank goodness you’re alive!” – he’d just hold your hand and ask you to stay with him ♡
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