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#aragorn choked on his soup
h4rrypotterf4n · 1 year
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Stuffed animal
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Pairing:  Legolas x Reader
Wordcount: 1210 words
Warnings: hurt to comfort; The fellowship being mean to reader
Summary: After the fellowship made fun of you sleeping with a stuffed animal a certain elf is there to comfort you.
Finally, you were able to rest a bit. Aragorn and Gandalf found a clearing in the forest they both agreed on resting for the night. So, the fellowship prepared their bedrolls. When they finished Sam began to cook dinner, Aragorn sharpened his sword, Gandalf watched how Boromir tried to teach the hobbits how to make a fire, Legolas rested with his eyes closed against a tree and you were preoccupied with staring at the elf across from you. You’ve had a crush on him since you first saw him at the council of Elrond. And how could you not? Long blond hair, icy blue eyes, a fierce warrior, you could rant about him all day.
 “My lady,” Aragorn pulled your gaze away, while he gave you a plate of soup.
 “Thanks, Aragorn,” you responded gratefully.
 “You know,” he began as he sat next to you, “you should just tell him, that you fancy him,” you nearly choked on your soup at his declaration.
 “I- what?”
 “Come on, it is painfully obvious that you both like each other,” he left you stunned, to say the least and walked over to Gandalf.
Soon darkness fell upon the camp and the only source of light was the slowly dimming fire. The fellowship sounded asleep, so you slowly sat up and as quiet as possible opened your bag and pulled your stuffed animal out. You can’t sleep without it but felt ashamed of your little habit and chose to hide it from the others. As a woman it was hard enough to proof that you were capable of this quest. You cuddled against it and let the faint sounds of the fire and the snores of Gimli lull you to sleep.
 You woke up to loud laughter from your friends. Groaning you turned to the other side trying to shut them out and get a bit more rest. But as your mind slowly came to its senses, you missed the light weight in your arm. Hastily you opened your eyes to see your little friend wasn’t anywhere near you. You hurriedly began searching for it through your things.
“Do you miss something?”  Gimli laughed at you, while he held your stuffed animal up.
“Our fierce warrior sleeps with a stuffed animal who would have thought of that?” Boromir mocked you. You looked around hoping someone would defend you. But the hobbits just laughed along, even Aragorn and Gandalf smirked at their cruel jokes and Legolas was nowhere in sight, he was probably looking for any danger ahead of us.
 As the humiliation became too much and you felt tears threatening to fall you ran into the forest. You only stopped when your vision was too blurry to see properly. Sinking down with your back against a tree you buried your head in your bend knees, while you continued to cry.
Meanwhile Legolas came back from inspecting the further road. Thanks to his elven ears he heard the conversation, and he was furious. Because unbeknownst to you he also had his eyes on you since the day he first saw you.
 “What was that?” Legolas asked in a stern tone.          
 “Oh, we just had a bit fun,” Gimli answered still laughing.
 “Fun for whom? Because of what I’ve witnessed (Y/N) just ran crying into the forest,” the elf bit angrily back.
 “Maybe it’s better if she’s gone. I mean if she still sleeps with a stuffed animal she can’t be of much help, can she?” Boromir piped in defending Gimli.
 “She is a strong warrior with a kind and loving heart. She is a perfect addition to this company. She has proven herself often enough. We all know that. And besides everyone has something from home to remind us of it,” Legolas pointed out and everyone fell silent knowing he was right, „For example Gimli, you have your necklace with pictures of your family. Aragorn, you have your evenstar and Frodo, you have your mithril shirt. So why shouldn’t she be allowed to have something, that remind her of her home?” he went on in rage and the fellowship let their gaze fall to the ground in shame, knowing he was right.
 “While I go looking for her, I advise you all start thinking of a good apology for her,” he said already walking in the direction you took off but not without your stuffed animal.
While he searched for you, he freed it from a few leaves that were tangled in the soft fur from sleeping on the ground until he picked up quiet sobs ahead of him.
The sight in front of him broke his heart your whole body shook with the sobs you desperately tried to muffle with your hand.
 “I think you forgot someone,” Legolas spoke as softly as he could. Startled you looked up to see he was now sitting beside you with your little comforter sitting in his lap.
 “G-Go away, Legolas,” it warmed your heart that he was trying to comfort you, but you do not want him to see you like this.
 “So, you want me to return with your friend?”
 “It’s stupid anyway,” you grabbed it and threw it away which shocked Legolas. The elf stood up and walked over to the poor animal to pick it up.
“I do not think it’s stupid. I actually think it is quite relatable,” you looked up at him to find there was no lie in his eyes and your stuffed animal closely held to his chest.
 “You don’t?”
 “No, I could not for I too miss my home. Every one of us does and it is cruel to make fun out of something, that helps you,” the elf explained softly sitting next to you again.
 “I got it from my parents when I was a child. It’s the only thing I still have of my family. They died
w-when I was young, “
 “Which makes it even more understandable that you carry it with you,” 
 “You really do not think of it as stupid or childish? “
 „No, I don’t. I can’t think that of someone I love, “
he blurted out and started to lightly blush as he realized what he had said. 
 „Y-you love me? “ You asked kind of shocked. 
He thought for a second what he should do now but decided for the truth. 
 „Yes, “ he whispered as he looked to his feet.  
 “I love you too,” you whispered back making eye contact with him when he looked up. You watched as a smile came upon his features and involuntary you mimicked him. Slowly he leaned closer to you but before your lips touched, he stopped. 
 “May I?” Legolas whispered looking down towards your lips. Instead of answering you closed the gap between you two. Trying to convey every emotion Legolas felt for you he kissed you back. 
 “How about we go back and give the others the chance to apologize to you?” He asked when you both broke away from one another for air. You nodded in agreement and stood up with the help of Legolas hand.  For the whole way back, he didn’t let go of your hand instead he looked at you with a smile on his face. 
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beenovel · 3 years
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Gandalf: What’s a thot?
Merry: It’s a thoughtful person
*later in the day*
Sam: Here’s your soup Mr. Gandalf!
Gandalf: Thank you, Sam, you’re such a thot!
Sam *wheezing*: I’m a  w h a t
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The Wild {The Fellowship x Reader}
Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2681 Summary: You, a GN librarian, join the fellowship because Gandalf thinks your knowledge could come in handy. But it isn’t sunshine and rainbows. Notes: Follows the last half of the Fellowship of the Ring, including character deaths.
Never before had your heart felt so broken. You had experienced loss before, but the family members were always old. Were always distant and far off. Not someone that you grew accustomed to spending a lot of your time with. Not like Gandalf. The old wizard had been your friend since you were a child, when he would come into the city and you, being the librarian’s child, would help him to fetch papers and manuscripts from the dusty old shelves. Things that only he would want, things that no one else had touched since before your grandparents were born. How many hours you had spent with him down there, bringing him cups of ale and soup from the kitchens! Until you were grown up and he had called you to Rivendell and asked you to join the Fellowship as you were second in knowledge only to him about the lands, about Sauron, and about the ring.
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And now he was gone. Fallen into the depths of the Mines of Moria. With the Belrog that he had died to save you and the fellowship from. You were one of the three humans on the team, and so you felt death strongly, having a shorter lifespan than even the Hobbits most of the time. It made you so aware of your own mortality. Of how dangerous this was. You were just a scholar. You were not a fighter. How did you get through any of this? If you were a little more brave, it might have been you who fell.
But you were a coward, much more comfortable in reading about previous wars than in being in one.
There was a brief time for rest after leaving the mountain. You have never felt such strong emotional pain before. And seeing the others, seeing how much they were hurting - it did not help. You would rather have been alone in your grief. You wouldn’t have wished this upon your most fearsome enemy.
Some sat alone. Samwise Gamgee was like that. He collapsed down onto a spot of rock and held his head in his hands. His curls even looked dismayed. Gimli had to be held by Boromir, lest he go running back in there. It was all any of you wanted to do. Glances over the shoulder back towards the way that you had come out, hoping against hope. Please, please, please. Let him live. Let him climb back up. Let him come through that doorway as the shabby old wizard that you all loved. Merry held Pippin who had fallen onto the ground. A look of pure agony over his face. The dirt did nothing to hide it on either of them. But at least they had one another.
Legolas looked like he was having trouble understanding. Like he hadn’t come to grips with it yet. You could see the reflection of it over his eyes. He was replaying it over and over. He was looking for some sort of sense to come through. To finally comprehend what he was seeing. But he wasn’t quite there yet.
Aragorn was the strongest of all of us. He was cleaning his sword. He was still standing. He looked like he had already come to terms with what had happened. He called out to Legolas but you didn’t hear exactly what. You were a few too many steps away. You were sitting, leaning against one of the pristine, dusty rocks. You were struggling to catch your breath. Your emotions were caught in your throat. You were choking on them, downright choking.
“Give them a moment, for pity’s sake!” Boromir’s voice broke the silence as he got to his feet. He looked over at you and you returned that look. You needed a moment. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to walk like this? How were you supposed to go on without Gandalf?
“By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with orcs!” Aragorn said. You sighed. Maybe he had a point. But was there even a point anymore? Why would you even want to go on now? Hope just felt ... lost. “We must reach the woods of Lothlorien,” He continued,  sheathing his large sword. “Boromir, Legolas, Gimli - y/n... get them up.”
The others moved faster than you did. You continued to stare back at the mountains. It had been Gandalf who had believed in you from the first. He was the one that brought you aboard. Although, with this sort of mission and this sort of time spent together, you had gotten to know the others, it had always been Gandalf for you. He was like a kindly grandfather. A favorite grandfather. You would share honeycakes in the middle of the night when you couldn’t sleep and would go to visit him in the library. He would teach you how to read in the old languages. No matter how frustrated you became, he would not let you give up. He wouldn’t let you give up then, and he wouldn’t let you give up now. You could almost hear his stern words.Feel the slap of his walking-stick on your back.
You stood up. Your feet were sore from running. They were begging you not to continue. You were dreaming about soft grasses, where you could walk barefoot and feel like you were dancing on a cloud rather than all of these rocks. The ups and downs of the hills. You walked over to Merry and Pippin, and offered them both of your hands. Merry took yours first. He was already more up than Pippin. It took the other one a longer time to get up on his feet.
His face was still filled with tears, and once they were both up, you crouched down to wipe them from his face with your thumbs. “There’s plenty of time to mourn as we walk, Master Pippin,” You told him.  “What do you think he would say if he were to see you like this? Do you think he’d be honored that we love him so much - or would he be annoyed by how much time we’re wasting?"
“Might be a bit o’ both?” Merry said, trying to be the strong one. Pippin still looked like he was in agony. Before you had a chance to give your own answer, the young hobbit jumped towards you, wrapping his arms around you in a big hug. It took you by surprise, to say the least. And it was ... comforting. More so than you thought it would be. You didn’t grow up with a lot of affection. Your family had been very hard-working and there hadn’t really been time for good-night hugs or even family dinners really. This touch was new.  And it was welcomed.
Another pair of grubby little arms wrapped around you as Merry came in from the other side. You put your own arms around the two of them, catching Aragorn’s eye. Yes, you should be hurrying them along. You could see that in his glance. But how could you allow yourself to break this apart? There was no way. There wasn’t a chance. You rubbed at their backs as you had seen mothers do to their children in comfort while they cried. Pippin was still weeping. Merry was still trying to hold on strong.
“Come boys, come. We’ll go through the woods of Lothlorien and perhaps even find a bed. It’ll be a better place to cry, where there’s water to re-hydrate and handkerchiefs to wipe at.”
“We’re not boys,” Pippin said, letting go of you hesitantly. He wiped his own eyes.
“I’m an adult, and Pippin is as near as!” Merry insisted.
“Almost full grown!” Pippin agreed.
That was the closest to a smile that you would bring yourself to have for the next little while. They relished the distraction. They took offense to the word boys, rather than being offended that it had been you who had called them that. Although you had already known from your readings, they told you about the customs back in Hobbiton. The way that they were adults at the ripe age of thirty-three. Merry was older than that, but Pippin was still considered to be a teenager. Not a boy. There was a big distinction. “I apologize thoroughly. I can see that you are the most noble of adults.”
You hadn’t meant that in a teasing way, nor did they take it that way. It helped Pippin hold back his tears, anyhow. You wrapped his cloak around him to make sure that he was warm, and kept one hand on each of their backs, leading them forwards, after the rest. Away from the rocky hills. You stayed with the two. Once in a while, Boromir or Gimli would look back over their shoulders to make sure that you were catching up. You would give a nod. You were with them. You wouldn’t let these two get left behind. That was part of being in the Fellowship. It was like a family now. You had all suffered through something traumatic together and that was going to bring you all closer.
-
Lothlorien had been exactly what was needed. A warm bed. You didn’t get one all to yourself because they didn’t get many guests so they did not have many beds. You bunked with Merry and Pippin. They were the first ones that ever hugged you so you felt a strange sense of protectiveness over them in particular. It felt like there were small factions, or family dynamics within the fellowship.
Aragorn was the father. The natural leader. When he said to do something, or that someone can be trusted, you all perked up to listen. The hobbits - it was hard not to see them as children. Maybe it was their size. Maybe it was the awy that the world hadn’t hardened them yet. Though it was certainly trying. Fair-faced Frodo was looking paler by the day, a little less hopeful. Losing Gandalf had been a big blow to you all but it seemed to hit him the hardest. Samwise - you could see that he was worried about Frodo. They were inseperable. As long as Frodo had Sam, things would be alright. You felt that deep within your soul.
Legolas and Gimli - the Uncles. Distant. But meaning well. Legolas was the most distant out of all of them - in fact, you couldn’t recall him ever talking to anyone other than yourself, Aragorn, and Gimli. Boromir - he was like a big brother to the boys. He played around with them. He tried to teach them things. He allowed himself to be pushed around by Merry and Pippin. But you? You weren’t exactly sure where you fit in. But you did. You didn’t doubt that. Not when you had Merry curled up against you, and Pippin up against him.
But it was after that things started to go downhill. Orcs. Orcs everywhere. Overpowered, ambushed, surrounded. You had your sword out. You were heavy in the mindset of ‘The Pen is Mighter than the Sword’ but that wasn’t much help now was it. What were you going to do? Write a sonnet to Sauron? A convincing letter? Would he even be able to recieve such a thing if you did spend the time writing it? So you had a sword. You weren’t great at using it. But you were doing your best.
It was you, Boromir, Pippin and Merry. The two hobbits were doing their best as well. Doing what Boromir had trained them to do. Back to back so that nobody could get the jump on them from behind. Swinging their own swords, which were like daggers in your hand, but suited them well. Boromir blew the horn of Gondor - a haunting sound. You all backed up towards a rock. Your sword was swinging, trying to keep the orcs at bay. You didn’t know if you had it in you to be a killer.
So many more kept running in towards you. Boromir’s horn was calling in not just the rest of the Fellowship but the rest of the orcs. You realized it was the smart thing to do. Keep them away from Frodo and the ring, wherever he may be. Even if that meant bringing them to you, to the little Hobbits. Boromir was doing most of the damage. Merry and Pippin were teaming up to kill an orc. They had somehow gotten on top of it. You were trying to do what Aragorn and Boromir had showed you, and you successfully took down two of the orce. Slashing through them. The hot sticky smell of blood seemed to cover everything. It had gotten onto your face. Onto your hands.
“Go, RUN!” Boromir yelled, trying to shield you and the Hobbits with his own body. You let the Hobbits run in front of you. After what happened to Gandalf, after losing someone you loved, you weren’t just going to run and let it happen again. You grabbed onto Boromir’s arm, trying to push him along. He came, though he was facing the wrong way, watching as the army marched in closer and closer.
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The Hobbits threw rocks. They looked terrified. They looked the way that you felt as Boromir pushed you away, swinging his sword to attack someone who had come in close. But more kept on coming. You counted at least two dozen and more and more and more - “Merry, Pippin, run!” You demanded of the half-lings. Bless them, they really were trying with those rocks.
You were trying so hard to get them to move, to go, that you didn’t notice the arrows sliding through the air until you heard Boromir gasp. You looked over your shoulder to see him get one close to his chest. “BOROMIR,” You called out, adrenaline rising. Your sword slashed through the air. It clanged against the metal of an orc’s sword. You were fighting to get to him. Not thinking. Not looking for where the arrows had come from. Until you saw another one go through his abdomen.
You couldn’t even scream his name. It was like the breath had been taken from your lungs. And it took you a moment to realize why. You had been shot through as well. An arrow was sticking it’s way through your stomach. You hadn’t felt it - just - a cold feeling. You looked down in shock, trying to get it through your brain that this was happening.  The Hobbits were calling your name. You could barely hear them over the sound of all of the pounding feet against the ground.
Boromir was still up. You tried to be brave like him, you tried to be strong, but you were losing your footing. You weren’t meant for this war stuff, you thought to yourself for the hundredth time since leaving your little library to go to Rivendell at Gandalf’s request.
Gandalf.
Another arrow hit you - this one you were able to see, able to feel, an extremely painful coldness like ice through your skin. You were going to be joining Gandalf soon. At least there was that. The feeling that you weren’t alone as you fell down onto the ground. Your cheek was pressed up against the cold earth, as you lay on your back. You had turned your head to look at the hobbits. They had stopped shouting. Merry was looking at you. Pippin was looking at Boromir. They were looking dimmer. You could feel your heart beat everywhere in your body, you could feel it slowing down but you kept those boys in focus. Your boys.
“Run - you fools - “ You managed to say before the taste of blood filled your mouth. A sharp pain on your leg. One of the Uruk-Hai. He was standing on you, crushing you. He put another arrow into his bow. You looked past him to see the sunshine coming in through the canopy of the trees. A beautiful golden yellow. You took in your last painful breath and thought -
-
maybe you were a hero in some capacity after all.
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Wishes (Aragorn x Fem!reader)
Word Count: 2207 Warnings: ANGST
AHHH OK so this fic was made in collaboration with @hey-its-nonny and it was so fun to write!
You woke in a restored Gondor, eyes fluttering open at the beams of golden sunlight seeping through your window. The day you‘d dreaded for months had finally come. It was the day Aragorn was to be wed to his love, Arwen.
You rose, already mourning your loss of your friend and your love. You didn’t know how you could stay, concealed in the dark. Hiding. Ignoring your emotions and acting as if they didn’t exist was a difficult task. But, if it meant Aragorn would be happy, you would try your best, unsure of what might come of it.
Slowly, you slid on your dress, the silky fabric brushing your legs. It was a beautiful gown, one that Arwen had made especially for you. It fit perfectly, snug around your waist and flaring out. In your favorite color, too.
The necklace Aragorn had given you laid heavily on your neck. It felt wrong to be wearing it to this event, but without it, you didn't feel whole.
And with a look in the mirror, you sighed, a saddened smile gracing your lips while you prepared yourself for what would be one of the saddest days of your life.
You thought back to a better time when everything was easier. When your love for Aragorn had bloomed.
It was a cold night. You and Aragorn had gone on yet another adventure together through the hours of the night. After plenty of frolicking and distractions, you’d both agreed that it was time to eat.
You’d decided a warm soup was the way to go, and Aragorn agreed with you on that as well. And while you waited for your meals, you talked around pointless things, avoiding the affection that was blossoming.
You were teasing him, pushing him around, baiting him. When he finally retaliated, he accidentally hit your soup out of your hands. The target for the food? your clothes. Your shirt was covered, and you stifled a laugh while Aragorn looked mortified.
You winced a bit at how hot your soup was, as well as the fact that you could no longer eat it, since it was so elegantly spilled on your shirt.
“Y/N, I am so sorry. Here, let me- I can-” The poor man rambled, looking for a cloth to dry your shirt. You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, though the fiery wrath of the soup was definitely a contender for your attention.
Yet still, you laughed, opening your bag with a hum. “Aragorn, I’m sure I have a spare shirt in my pa- What? Where is it?” You quietly gasped, Aragorn’s eyes brightening.
“Take mine, Y/N. I have a spare.” He stated, the red on his cheeks dissipating.
Your gentle hands gingerly grasped the shirt as you stood, sharply inhaling at the temperature of the soup. “I’ll be back.”
After a minute or two, you walked over to the table and sat down, cozier than ever in Aragorn’s off-white shirt. You offered a smile and caught Aragorn’s eye, his shocked expression warming your cheeks. “It is a little big, I will admit, but it will do until I get a fresh change of clothing.” You grinned, biting back a smile.
“Keep it.” Aragorn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the slightest and sweetest of ways. “It looks better on you than it looked on me.” He stated, inhaling a breath after stealing another glance at you.
You still had that shirt, after all the time that passed.
Those were fond memories you had of him, but fleeting. You smoothed your dress down and slipped on your shoes. Another memory came to haunt you, the emotions overwhelming.
You were wandering Rivendell when you heard a giggle. You had turned a corner, finding Aragorn, his lips glued to Arwen’s. You cleared your throat, causing them to break apart, looking at you sheepishly.
Arwen spoke softly, “Oh, I am sorry about that. We didn’t know anyone else would come here.” Of course, she didn’t know that Aragorn and you had spent many hours in this same place. You avoided his gaze and hid your emotion, laughing instead.
“Oh I have so many things I could say, but most important of all, I could tell everyone!” You paraded around them, joking of course. They laughed along, not truly seeing how much this hurt you. And you would keep it that way.
The decorations were beautiful. You gazed upon the arch that Aragorn was to be wed under, trailing down the cascading vines and flowers. You counted at least a hundred guests.
If it weren’t for the emotions you felt at the moment, you might have smiled just because of how beautiful everything looked.
The bells rang, signifying that the ceremony would start soon, and you took a sharp breath. Your stomach churned like you were about to face the armies of Mordor alone. But it wasn’t the time to be afraid. It was time to be Aragorn’s friend.
The very man that your thoughts were formed around jogged up to you, handsome as ever. His armor contrasted his eyes beautifully, and the smile he wore made you melt.
“Y/N. Just the woman I wished to see.” He grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder while you returned the smile.
You hummed, straightening your back. “What do you need?” You asked, ready to do whatever he needed.
“A friend.” He replied, indicating that he was nervous.
“You’ll be fine, Aragorn.” You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will go smoothly, I assure you.”
The man nodded, a dreadful sigh escaping his lips once the bells rang again. Of all the things you’d said today, the three words that left your lips were some of the hardest to get out. “Go get her.”
Once everyone was settled, the ceremony began with Elrond giving Arwen away. You watched Aragorn closely, the way his eyes lit up when Arwen was unveiled, the pure love and devotion he had for her nearly killing you. You had no idea it would be this hard. Tears pricked at your eyes when they kissed and you were glad you could blame it on the “beauty” of the moment.
You watched Aragorn lead Arwen down the aisle, each step a dagger in your chest. No matter how strong you wanted to be for Aragorn, you couldn’t watch this any longer. Your strained smile slowly disappeared as they walked out of sight. You had to get out of there.
So, when he wasn’t looking, you quietly slipped away, allowing the tears to finally fall. What you didn’t know, however, was that he saw you walk away, more confused and worried than ever.
Once you were far enough, you broke into a sprint. You needed to get as far away from there as fast as you could. You slipped your shoes off, the cold and roughness of the stone adding to your anguish. Upon reaching the garden, you sobbed, collapsing onto the stone ground where you once stood. You couldn’t control it. Your shoulders softly shook as you cried, feeling nothing but sorry for yourself. You thought you could watch Aragorn give a special part of himself to Arwen. You really did. But you couldn’t.
And you hated yourself for it. You held your head in your hands, sniffling quietly into the silence. You never got to tell him how much better he made you. You never got to hug him as Arwen would. You never got to laugh at his flirtatious jokes like Arwen would be able to. You never got to kiss him as Arwen would. But then again, why would he ever kiss someone like you? You weren’t even half as pretty as her.
Too lost in your own sorrow, you didn’t hear Aragorn’s footsteps approaching. Something about rangers, they always knew how to stay quiet and test the situation. Upon seeing you, he removed his crown, kneeling beside you with worry written on his sharp features. “Y/n? Y/n, why are you upset?” The worried man asked, gently grasping your trembling shoulders.
You flinched under the touch, shrinking away from the touch. “It is nothing, Mellon. Please, go be with yo- Arwen. Were you not just betrothed?” You asked, wiping away the salty teardrops on your cheeks.
While you stood to leave, Aragorn mimicked your actions, blocking your exit. “Y/n, please. I only wish to help,” He pleaded, following your gaze. He gently grabbed your chin, sending a shiver down your spine while he forced you to look at him.
“Aragorn, please let me go.” You sniffled, lip quivering while your eyes begged him to leave.
Aragorn frowned, giving one final attempt at helping you. He couldn’t know. He could never know. “Was it Arwen? Gandalf? I do not know what could have upset you in such a way.” He frowned, brow creased in worry.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. No more games, or guessing, or hiding from it. You’d tried so hard, only for it all to come crashing down in flames before your eyes. “It’s you, Aragorn!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your cheeks while throwing your hands out.
You laughed a sad laugh, backing away from the man you’d loved for countless years. “It’s always been you.” You croaked weakly, your voice brittle and defeated. Aragorn was still confused. He cautiously stepped forward, taking your hands in his own. “Y/n, what do you mean?” He asked, clearly worried that he’d hurt you in some way.
You shook your head, biting your lip while you trained your gaze on the ground. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just-” You smiled, shaking your head as you met his gaze. “Just go be with her. You need to be with her.”
But instead of walking away, Aragorn shook his head. “Y/n, we cannot keep circling amongst each other like this. Please, tell me what I’ve done to hurt you.” He pleaded, worry and remorse engraved in his expression.
You took a shaky breath, tearing up once again. “I can’t, Aragorn.” You admitted, the cost of saying the words far more than you were willing to give. “If I do, I will have to leave.” You choked, willing away the tears.
Aragorn sighed, determination set in his jaw. “Whatever you are facing, Y/n, whatever comes, I will face it beside you.” He stated, confidence and truth behind the words. You hated how perfect he was. Always an amazing friend, but not for much longer.
Finally, after a minute of silence, you decided that if you were going to leave Gondor for the rest of your days, you might as well make it memorable. “Forgive me, Aragorn.” You pleaded, leaning in to steal a kiss from Aragorn.
He hummed in surprise, but didn’t back away, eyes fluttering shut. You relished in the feeling, your hand on his warm, stubbly cheek. It was incredible. Until the both of you realized what was happening. You gasped, backing away from the kiss. “I-“ You stammered, quickly going into a panic. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” You breathed, stumbling out of the garden.
You felt like such an idiot. All of the nights wasted in tears rushing back to haunt you as you ran away from the love you’d held onto so dearly. You ran as fast as you could for the forest, clutching the necklace Aragorn had given you. Habit.
Little did you know, Aragorn decided to run after you, desperate to clean up the mess you’d made. You ran, skillfully weaving throughout the trees to lose Aragorn.
Once you thought you were far enough, you leaned against a tree, dirt marks along your arms and legs. That was the last time you would ever see Aragorn. You wasted it. So, you cried. Then you decided you would move on. Start over.
Aragorn approached, careful not to startle you. You looked up, resting your head against the tree with an irritated sigh. “I can’t stay.” You whispered, your defeated tone letting Aragorn know just how much of a toll this took on you.
Aragorn frowned, the glisten of a tear catching your eye. “Why? We can forget it happened, Y/n. We can make this right.” He suggested, a pleading in his voice that you’d only heard a handful of times. It hurt.
“We can’t. I have to leave.” You replied, forcing yourself to look at him. “I love you, Aragorn. I always have and will. Nothing can ever change that. So, unless you have miraculously realized that it is not Arwen, but me you love, which I highly doubt, I’m leaving.” You explained, standing with a sigh, knowing Aragorn would try to follow.
He stood, watching while you unclasped the necklace Aragorn gave you. “Goodbye, Aragorn.” You spoke defeatedly, gently grasping his hands to place the necklace in them.
“Y/n, anything you wish, I will do. Just stay.” He asked one final time, slow tears falling down his cheeks.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “I wish I were Arwen.” And with that, you walked away, thankful that Aragorn didn’t try to follow.
taglist: @lady-latte
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hey-its-nonny · 3 years
Text
Wishes
Aragorn x reader
okay this will be my last angsty fic i promise
I’m excited to announce that this fic is a collaboration! i wrote this with @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse and i am super pleased with it!
chap. six of In Between is out, so be sure to check that out. ANYWAYS this is inspired by the song Heather by Conan Gray :)
let the heartbreak commence <3
~~~~~
You woke in a restored Gondor, eyes fluttering open at the beams of golden sunlight seeping through your window. The day you‘d dreaded for months had finally come. It was the day Aragorn was to be wed to his love, Arwen.
You rose, already mourning your loss of your friend and your love. You didn’t know how you could stay, concealed in the dark. Hiding. Ignoring your emotions and acting as if they didn’t exist was a difficult task. But, if it meant Aragorn would be happy, you would try your best, unsure of what might come of it.
Slowly, you slid on your dress, the silky fabric brushing your legs. It was a beautiful gown, one that Arwen had made especially for you. It fit perfectly, snug around your waist and flaring out. In your favorite color, too.
The necklace Aragorn had given you laid heavily on your neck. It felt wrong to be wearing it to this event, but without it, you didn't feel whole.
And with a look in the mirror, you sighed, a saddened smile gracing your lips while you prepared yourself for what would be one of the saddest days of your life.
You thought back to a better time when everything was easier. When your love for Aragorn had bloomed.
It was a cold night. You and Aragorn had gone on yet another adventure together through the hours of the night. After plenty of frolicking and distractions, you’d both agreed that it was time to eat.
You’d decided a warm soup was the way to go, and Aragorn agreed with you on that as well. And while you waited for your meals, you talked around pointless things, avoiding the affection that was blossoming.
You were teasing him, pushing him around, baiting him. When he finally retaliated, he accidentally hit your soup out of your hands. The target for the food? your clothes. Your shirt was covered, and you stifled a laugh while Aragorn looked mortified.
You winced a bit at how hot your soup was, as well as the fact that you could no longer eat it, since it was so elegantly spilled on your shirt.
“Y/N, I am so sorry. Here, let me- I can-” The poor man rambled, looking for a cloth to dry your shirt. You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, though the fiery wrath of the soup was definitely a contender for your attention.
Yet still, you laughed, opening your bag with a hum. “Aragorn, I’m sure I have a spare shirt in my pa- What? Where is it?” You quietly gasped, Aragorn’s eyes brightening.
“Take mine, Y/N. I have a spare.” He stated, the red on his cheeks dissipating.
Your gentle hands gingerly grasped the shirt as you stood, sharply inhaling at the temperature of the soup. “I’ll be back.”
After a minute or two, you walked over to the table and sat down, cozier than ever in Aragorn’s off-white shirt. You offered a smile and caught Aragorn’s eye, his shocked expression warming your cheeks. “It is a little big, I will admit, but it will do until I get a fresh change of clothing.” You grinned, biting back a smile.
“Keep it.” Aragorn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the slightest and sweetest of ways. “It looks better on you than it looked on me.” He stated, inhaling a breath after stealing another glance at you.
You still had that shirt, after all the time that passed.
Those were fond memories you had of him, but fleeting. You smoothed your dress down and slipped on your shoes. Another memory came to haunt you, the emotions overwhelming.
You were wandering Rivendell when you heard a giggle. You had turned a corner, finding Aragorn, his lips glued to Arwen’s. You cleared your throat, causing them to break apart, looking at you sheepishly.
Arwen spoke softly, “Oh, I am sorry about that. We didn’t know anyone else would come here.” Of course, she didn’t know that Aragorn and you had spent many hours in this same place. You avoided his gaze and hid your emotion, laughing instead.
“Oh I have so many things I could say, but most important of all, I could tell everyone!” You paraded around them, joking of course. They laughed along, not truly seeing how much this hurt you. And you would keep it that way.
The decorations were beautiful. You gazed upon the arch that Aragorn was to be wed under, trailing down the cascading vines and flowers. You counted at least a hundred guests.
If it weren’t for the emotions you felt at the moment, you might have smiled just because of how beautiful everything looked.
The bells rang, signifying that the ceremony would start soon, and you took a sharp breath. Your stomach churned like you were about to face the armies of Mordor alone. But it wasn’t the time to be afraid. It was time to be Aragorn’s friend.
The very man that your thoughts were formed around jogged up to you, handsome as ever. His armor contrasted his eyes beautifully, and the smile he wore made you melt.
“Y/N. Just the woman I wished to see.” He grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder while you returned the smile.
You hummed, straightening your back. “What do you need?” You asked, ready to do whatever he needed.
“A friend.” He replied, indicating that he was nervous.
“You’ll be fine, Aragorn.” You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will go smoothly, I assure you.”
The man nodded, a dreadful sigh escaping his lips once the bells rang again. Of all the things you’d said today, the three words that left your lips were some of the hardest to get out. “Go get her.”
Once everyone was settled, the ceremony began with Elrond giving Arwen away. You watched Aragorn closely, the way his eyes lit up when Arwen was unveiled, the pure love and devotion he had for her nearly killing you. You had no idea it would be this hard. Tears pricked at your eyes when they kissed and you were glad you could blame it on the “beauty” of the moment.
You watched Aragorn lead Arwen down the aisle, each step a dagger in your chest. No matter how strong you wanted to be for Aragorn, you couldn’t watch this any longer. Your strained smile slowly disappeared as they walked out of sight. You had to get out of there.
So, when he wasn’t looking, you quietly slipped away, allowing the tears to finally fall. What you didn’t know, however, was that he saw you walk away, more confused and worried than ever.
Once you were far enough, you broke into a sprint. You needed to get as far away from there as fast as you could. You slipped your shoes off, the cold and roughness of the stone adding to your anguish. Upon reaching the garden, you sobbed, collapsing onto the stone ground where you once stood. You couldn’t control it. Your shoulders softly shook as you cried, feeling nothing but sorry for yourself. You thought you could watch Aragorn give a special part of himself to Arwen. You really did. But you couldn’t.
And you hated yourself for it. You held your head in your hands, sniffling quietly into the silence. You never got to tell him how much better he made you. You never got to hug him as Arwen would. You never got to laugh at his flirtatious jokes like Arwen would be able to. You never got to kiss him as Arwen would. But then again, why would he ever kiss someone like you? You weren’t even half as pretty as her.
Too lost in your own sorrow, you didn’t hear Aragorn’s footsteps approaching. Something about rangers, they always knew how to stay quiet and test the situation. Upon seeing you, he removed his crown, kneeling beside you with worry written on his sharp features. “Y/n? Y/n, why are you upset?” The worried man asked, gently grasping your trembling shoulders.
You flinched under the touch, shrinking away from the touch. “It is nothing, Mellon. Please, go be with yo- Arwen. Were you not just betrothed?” You asked, wiping away the salty teardrops on your cheeks.
While you stood to leave, Aragorn mimicked your actions, blocking your exit. “Y/n, please. I only wish to help,” He pleaded, following your gaze. He gently grabbed your chin, sending a shiver down your spine while he forced you to look at him.
“Aragorn, please let me go.” You sniffled, lip quivering while your eyes begged him to leave.
Aragorn frowned, giving one final attempt at helping you. He couldn’t know. He could never know. “Was it Arwen? Gandalf? I do not know what could have upset you in such a way.” He frowned, brow creased in worry.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. No more games, or guessing, or hiding from it. You’d tried so hard, only for it all to come crashing down in flames before your eyes. “It’s you, Aragorn!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your cheeks while throwing your hands out.
You laughed a sad laugh, backing away from the man you’d loved for countless years. “It’s always been you.” You croaked weakly, your voice brittle and defeated. Aragorn was still confused. He cautiously stepped forward, taking your hands in his own. “Y/n, what do you mean?” He asked, clearly worried that he’d hurt you in some way.
You shook your head, biting your lip while you trained your gaze on the ground. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just-” You smiled, shaking your head as you met his gaze. “Just go be with her. You need to be with her.”
But instead of walking away, Aragorn shook his head. “Y/n, we cannot keep circling amongst each other like this. Please, tell me what I’ve done to hurt you.” He pleaded, worry and remorse engraved in his expression.
You took a shaky breath, tearing up once again. “I can’t, Aragorn.” You admitted, the cost of saying the words far more than you were willing to give. “If I do, I will have to leave.” You choked, willing away the tears.
Aragorn sighed, determination set in his jaw. “Whatever you are facing, Y/n, whatever comes, I will face it beside you.” He stated, confidence and truth behind the words. You hated how perfect he was. Always an amazing friend, but not for much longer.
Finally, after a minute of silence, you decided that if you were going to leave Gondor for the rest of your days, you might as well make it memorable. “Forgive me, Aragorn.” You pleaded, leaning in to steal a kiss from Aragorn.
He hummed in surprise, but didn’t back away, eyes fluttering shut. You relished in the feeling, your hand on his warm, stubbly cheek. It was incredible. Until the both of you realized what was happening. You gasped, backing away from the kiss. “I-“ You stammered, quickly going into a panic. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” You breathed, stumbling out of the garden.
You felt like such an idiot. All of the nights wasted in tears rushing back to haunt you as you ran away from the love you’d held onto so dearly. You ran as fast as you could for the forest, clutching the necklace Aragorn had given you. Habit.
Little did you know, Aragorn decided to run after you, desperate to clean up the mess you’d made. You ran, skillfully weaving throughout the trees to lose Aragorn.
Once you thought you were far enough, you leaned against a tree, dirt marks along your arms and legs. That was the last time you would ever see Aragorn. You wasted it. So, you cried. Then you decided you would move on. Start over.
Aragorn approached, careful not to startle you. You looked up, resting your head against the tree with an irritated sigh. “I can’t stay.” You whispered, your defeated tone letting Aragorn know just how much of a toll this took on you.
Aragorn frowned, the glisten of a tear catching your eye. “Why? We can forget it happened, Y/n. We can make this right.” He suggested, a pleading in his voice that you’d only heard a handful of times. It hurt.
“We can’t. I have to leave.” You replied, forcing yourself to look at him. “I love you, Aragorn. I always have and will. Nothing can ever change that. So, unless you have miraculously realized that it is not Arwen, but me you love, which I highly doubt, I’m leaving.” You explained, standing with a sigh, knowing Aragorn would try to follow.
He stood, watching while you unclasped the necklace Aragorn gave you. “Goodbye, Aragorn.” You spoke defeatedly, gently grasping his hands to place the necklace in them.
“Y/n, anything you wish, I will do. Just stay.” He asked one final time, slow tears falling down his cheeks.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “I wish I were Arwen.” And with that, you walked away, thankful that Aragorn didn’t try to follow.
~~~ i LOVED writing this!!! if any of you writers ever wanna collaborate, hmu!!
tags: @eru-vande @thewhiteladyofrohan @from-patroclus-with-love @elvish-sky @lady-latte @entishramblings
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hms-chill · 4 years
Text
@rwrb-social-isolation‘s prompt today is “baking”, so here’s a little semi-edited ficlet of an idea that I didn’t want to sit on until next March!
“Uh, Alex? Love? What’s... happening?” Alex looks up. He has cocoa powder on his forehead, flour in his hair, and a bit of something that looks somehow doughy in his eyebrow. 
“H! You’re home! Happy birthday again!”
“Thank you? Do you want to explain what’s going on here?”
“I’m baking.” Henry tries not to let any of the sudden panic he’s feeling into his face.
“What are you making? Aside from a mess?”
“A cake. It’s your birthday, so I asked Bea to send me your favorite cake recipe so I could make it. Everything was by weight and we don’t have one of those fancy scale things, so I sort of had to guess, but I... you know. I made it work.” This does absolutely nothing to quell Henry’s growing concern. He looks around the kitchen. There’s melted chocolate on the door of the refrigerator. There’s flour all over Alex’s pants and somehow, inexplicably, egg shell in his hair.
“Have you ever made a cake before?”
“From a box, once. It wasn’t great. But we’ve watched enough Bake Off that I know what I’m doing now! Eggs are the only raising agent. Fold the batter. shoot in the flour, Bain-Marie, let prove, all that.”
Henry’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “Those are... techniques for entirely separate bakes.”
“Well, whatever I did, it worked. Sort of. Here.” He’s holding out something reminiscent of the mud pies Henry and Bea used to “cook” when they were kids. The world’s saddest rainbow candle is stuck in the top. “I had to cut off all the weird wet bits, and the ones that kept falling apart, so that’s why it doesn’t totally look like it should, but I think it’s all baked. And I’ll clean up the kitchen, I swear, I wasn’t expecting you home so soon. Maybe I lost track of time while I was decorating; the fondant didn’t work out so it sort of looks like shit, but uh... I tried? Happy birthday.”
Henry takes the plate Alex hands him almost gingerly. A scene from The Lord of the Rings where Aragorn has to choke down a bowl of soup and subtly pours half of it out flashes through his mind. Alex hunts the kitchen for a clean fork, leaving chocolatey fingerprints on what might be every clean drawer in the kitchen before he resorts to pulling one out of the dishwasher. Henry steels himself and takes a bite, feeling Alex’s eyes on him.
He’s not expecting it to be good. He loves Alex with everything in him, but will all his cooking expertise, the man has neither the patience nor the discipline for baking, even when he has a recipe he can follow.
The cake hits Henry’s mouth, and it’s somehow worse than he could have ever expected.
He chokes down a mouthful, forcing himself to swallow.
Alex is looking at him.
“I... I’ve never had anything like it.”
“Is it... it’s okay if it’s bad.”
“It’s... somehow both burnt and raw in the same spot.”
“Yeah, I thought maybe if I put the burnt parts by the wet parts maybe they would cancel each other out. You don’t have to eat it. I ordered a dozen cupcakes when I messed up the first cake, and I have dinner prepped, so we can still have a nice birthday night. How was work?”
“It was good.”
“Did they do anything special for your birthday?”
“We... we made cake. No, it’s okay, it was all pre-measured ingredients and stuff. It was mostly just a fun decorating thing for any of the kids who wanted to. Besides, you can’t be good at everything. If you could bake, you wouldn’t need me.”
“Sweetheart, I will always need you.” Henry smiles, using the excuse of grabbing the bit of egg shell to run his hand through Alex’s hair.
“Thank you for the cake, really. I appreciate the thought, and the effort.”
“I’m sorry it’s shit. I can make it up to you?” He clearly has something sexy in mind, but Henry smirks.
“Want to try a bite?”
Alex deflates. He takes Henry’s fork and gets a bite, eyeing it suspiciously for a moment before putting it in his mouth. He immediately makes a face, sticking out his tongue to let the lump of what can only generously be called chocolate cake fall back onto the plate with a wet thwack. Henry tries to hold in his laughter, he does, but after a moment, Alex is laughing, too. And really, a laughing boyfriend is all Henry could ever want.
(I’ve been watching a lot of Aries Kitchen, and this video in particular has a lot of Alex-Trying-To-Bake energy)
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