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#boromir angst
thewulf · 3 months
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My Queen || Aragorn
Summary: Request - Can I pleeeease send you an idea where he finds a girl in the woods, hurt and not conscious but he feels the need to help her and be close to her. So he takes care of her wounds till she wakes up and it's like true love at first sight for both of them... Read Rest Here
A/N: OH WOW, this got out of hand QUICK but I had SO MUCH FUNNNN writing this way! It was a challenge but it felt invigorating to write. I am obsessed with Aragorn and I just love him. Margot Robbie is so right for her cinematic crush! Thank you for the request anon, hope you love it :)
Pairing: Aragorn x Reader
Word Count: 10,000 +
TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings, Aragorn being hot af
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Just a few more stumbling steps. You could do it. Glancing down you grimaced at the crimson coated and tattered dress that you’d been wearing for the last five or so days. It used to be so gorgeous, a gift from the man you were meant to wed. Truly it was the only exquisite gift you’d ever received in your entirety. However now it looked as if it’d seen a thousand lives, just like the elves had. It bore this resemblance due to the attack on your home. You ran. Running far away from everything you knew. It was tough to grasp just how much you’d been through in the five days since you had to flee your small village just outside of Eriador.
You’d had a good life. Good but rather simple. Almost too simple for your taste. You were engaged to be wed to the local jewelers son at your father’s doing. He had assured you over and over again that going through with the wedding would lead you to a life that he could not provide you. A life you were destined for. Your mother, Valar rest her soul, had been killed a few years prior in an attack on your village leaving you with your father and a small place to live. But it was home.
The local jeweler boy, Newall, had asked you to take a walk around the village right before the tragic events occurred. One moment you were giving him your kindest smile. The next he pushed you into the woods after hearing the screaming coming from the village center. Not making your most brilliant decision you decided to follow behind him only to come to the horrifying realization that your seemingly insignificant village was being brutalized by Orc’s. You stood there frozen in fear as you witnessed men, women and children being slain as if they meant nothing. 
It was only when you came face to face with one that you realized how much trouble you were in. Valar save you. He must’ve listened because the Orc simply look at you, growled and pushed you into the side of the house you were standing next to. But then it dawned on you that he wasn’t done. The creature walked to you terrifyingly slow, standing over you before driving it’s sword into your side. Before you could even yelp out in pain the orc vanished leaving you to die presumably. But it was a shallow wound. It didn’t seem like it was trying to do too much damage. Orcs knew one thing, killing. It was odd that one would have spared you.
When you finally came back to the reality of the situation you knew you had to go. Run to Bree. Your dad always instructed that’s where you needed to go. You had an uncle up there that could look after you. Deciding not to waste another second you rushed inside the house grabbing whatever clothing you could find. Tying a pair of Newall’s pants around your waste to hopefully stop the bleeding you only grabbed a little bit of food before you made for the forest. You’d have to find something along the way. The trek to Bree would take nearly a month on foot.
Using the stars as guidance you moved through the forest you knew very well. It started out fine. You were trained to do just this. Your father had made sure of it. What you hadn’t considered was the poison from the orc blade that was slowly taking its toll on your body. It was the fourth night that you realized you were in serious trouble. On the fifth day you decided you weren’t going to be able to go any further. No wonder the Orc didn’t just kill you there. He left you to suffer. What a vile creation. 
It didn’t take you long to decide on where you wanted to die. You found a nice tree under the shade of the leaved with a comfortable base. You were just going to go to sleep and hopefully never wake up. Hopefully the poison would just do what it wanted to and let you finally go. 
That did not happen though. You felt a light kick on your boot forcing your eyes to open. What you weren’t expecting was a rather handsome looking ranger with ice blue eyes to be staring right at you. Considering what to do.
“Miss,” He knelt down after whispering something to his horse, “Are you injured?” His surprisingly concerned eyes spotted the blood that coated your worn-down dress.
Taking a long breath, you mustered enough strength to answer the stranger, “Yea, Master Ranger.” You let your head lean back on the trunk of the tree relieving the strain it seemed to put on year mere consciousness.
“Forgive me, but you do not look it miss.” His head was level with yours as he moved closer to you. He didn’t dare touch you without your permission, but he wanted too, you were not all right like you so miserably tried to convince him.
A shallow breath escaped you, “I fear I have been stabbed by an Orc blade Ranger. I do not have much longer.” Your eyes flicked away from his in a pathetic attempt to rid him of the conversation. He would have no such thing though. Leave a fair maiden to perish on her own? Not on his accord.
“Strider.” He corrected you. It wasn’t often he’d give out his Ranger known name to strangers, but you seemed harmless enough. What could a human woman such as yourself have done to deserve such a fate he wondered before continuing on, “We are but a half days journey to a small town called Sarn Ford. Have you heard of it miss?” He asked in hopes of seeing your eyes open once more.
You did as he wished and looked at him again, “Sarn Ford? Oh dear. I’ve gone the wrong direction.” You grimaced in pain as you tried to sit up higher on the tree trunk.
“Where are traveling to miss? On your own?” He held out an open hand for you to take. He left the decision on if you’d accept the help up to you.
Eyeing his hand, you knew he was prying. But he seemed trustworthy. The Rangers of the North were meant to be. Strider as he called himself. Your eyes met his again and you caved right then and there. He looked genuine, like he thought he could actually help you. Like you were not too far gone. With all the strength you could muster in your quickly fading body you put your hand in his, “Aye. My village was attacked by orcs. Third time in the last five years. They got me this time.” You sighed trying your hardest to stay conscious, “I was meant to travel to Bree. But I must have taken to the wrong direction. I will be blaming the Orc poison for the misdirection.” You let out a pained laugh trying to lighten the tone of the conversation going on between the two of you.
“All right. Off we go. What is your name?” He asked you needing to know to continue.
He watched you intently sputter out the words you were trying to get out. His fear of orc poison was right, you truly did not have that much time left. With your permission he scooped you up in his arms, called his horse over and positioned you in front of him while he rode. He knew you did not have enough strength to hold on from behind. He knew It would be a challenge to keep you upright on the journey back to Sarn Ford. He was meeting Gandalf there, anyway, might as well help the woman who he had taken a fast liking towards. Even Strider could see the beauty in things, and you were mighty beautiful in his eyes. Even coated in layers of dirt and grime he knew you shined like a star above him.
“Y/N.” You admitted to the man not feeling up to lying to him. You would likely be dead before dawn anyway. You would have hoped he would find a way to let anybody surviving know of your unfortunate fate. But in reality you were just another causality of war. A human life cut far too short.
“Lovely name.” He smiled lowly as he held you into him. He could feel you were fading in and out of consciousness as he held onto your waist tightly.
You hummed in thanks not having the strength to reply to him.
“Hold on miss Y/N. We will be there soon.” He spoke into your ear startling you back onto the middle earth side of consciousness.
But as much as he tried you had succumbed to your own fate. Blackness took over before you reached the village of Sarn Ford.
Much to your own surprise your eyes opened once more. You peaked around seeing all sorts of supplies. You must have been in some sort of healers room you concluded quickly. Looking down you were not in your attire you had been found in but a simple dress that you were more accustomed too. Being so caught up in your own accord you had yet to see the two men. Well one man and one wizard standing off to the side conversing as you came back to reality.
“Welcome young one.” The wizard spoke. You had never seen one before. Thought they were the thing of legends. But sure, as it would be one stood before you. They were easy to spot. Had an aura about them.
Your eyes snapped back to Striders looking at him in surprise. He was more handsome than you remembered as the sun beat down on his features through the window in the hut you were in, “It is all right.” He nodded at you, “This is Gandalf the Grey, he is an old friend of mine.”
“Hello Gandalf.” You broke your eyes away from the stranger your somewhat knew and turned your head towards the wizard.
“How are you fairing?” He asked whilst leaning onto his cane.
“Fine now. Thank you.” You turned toward Strider who made his way closer, “Thank you Strider. For without you I fear I may have been dead by now.” A shiver of realization ripped down your spine as you admitted it out loud.
He bowed his head, “I am honored to have been of service miss Y/N.” You looked over to him giving him a bashful smile. He was really so handsome. More handsome than any of the boys or men in your small village.
“Are you well enough to travel?” Gandalf asked breaking the trance the two of you had been locked in for a moment too long to be just friendly glances. Gandalf was considered wise for a reason. He had an inkling feeling there was something budding between his usually broody friend and the pretty human girl he had found in the woods. Maybe you were his gift from Valar. Every great leader needed one. Who was Gandalf to question the gods.
“I believe so.” You sat you wincing only slightly as the wound in your side. Strider wanted nothing more than to push you back down and curse the wizard who suggested you move so soon.
“Miss Y/N. You need to rest a little longer.” He insisted placing a gentle hand on your shoulder preventing you from standing.
Gandalf grumbled, “You must get to the Prancing Pony Inn. I’m going to meet Frodo now. Time is of the essence Aragorn.”
Your eyes crumbled in confusion. Who was Aragorn?
He did not leave you time to question as he grabbed at your hand, “Come miss Y/N. We have a ride to take.”
You sat at the bar table with Strider who had hood of his robe covering his face. You grew more uneasy as the night wore on at the Prancing Pony. The horse ride was quick thankfully. And much to your delight the Hobbits Gandalf was speaking of finally appeared. Right on time.
Strider shot up from his seat, “Wait here miss Y/N. I must save the Hobbit.” He sighed before bounding off into the depths of the bar. You felt even more uneasy as the eyes around you made their way to your shaking frame. You were nervous.
After far too many moments alone he grabbed you by your arms, “Come Y/N. We must hide.” He directed you to another room than the ones you had planned on staying in.
“Strider?” You asked following him up a set of stairs you were unfamiliar with.
“Nazgul. I’ll explain later. For now, you must sleep. We have a long journey to Rivendell. Especially with the Hobbits.” He let a long breath while opening the door for you. Quickly, you were attacked by questions from the four little Hobbits. Happily, though you answered every single one before lying next to Strider who promised to keep watch.
“You should get some rest too.” You whispered hoping not to wake the sleeping Hobbits.
He nodded, “I shall. In due time. I fear we have something coming.”
Your frown was evident as he continued to try and comfort you, “Do not fret. I am keeping watch for a reason. We are safe.”
“I believe you Strider.” You yawned not being able to keep the tiredness away for much longer.
“Rest.” He commanded.
You were far too tired to argue that as the darkness crept in.
You were woken when the screeching next door commenced. The Hobbits must’ve had more sensitive ears as they were already up and staring at Strider who looked glum.
“What are they?” Frodo asked.
He sat at the window looking at the five of you, “They were once men. Great kings of men. The Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power.” You felt a shiver ripple across your body. You’d heard the legends and did not believe those either. Yet again, another thing coming true right before your eyes.
“We must move.” He commented seeing the Nazgul retreating away from the inn.
You must have walked for miles until Strider had the five of you rest at the old watchtower of Amon Sul. You stood there behind the Hobbits staring up the decaying rock structure before you. It must have been grand in its time.
Once you were seated next to the Hobbits he stood and tossed each of you a weapon, “These are for you. Keep them close. I’m going to have a look around. Miss Y/N, will this blade be too large for you?” He handed you a smaller sword for you to try.
“I fear you have too much faith in me Strider.” You unsheathed the sword holding onto it carefully, “But this will work.” You nodded towards him.
“You shall not have to use it. In case only.” He pointed at each of you, “I will be back. Rest. Make no noise or sound.” His command was easy to follow. A natural born leader it seemed.
You woke when you heard Frodo yelling from beside you, “What are you doing?” He yelled a little too loud. You rose from the ground you had managed to sleep on and watched the interaction unfold. You cursed when you saw the fire going. He had not explicitly said no fires, but the intention was there.
“Put it out you fools!” Frodo cried. You rose from your slumber and haphazardly helped him put it out.
The horrifying cry you heard from the Nazgul the night before rang out from outside the watch tower.
“Oh no.” You spotted them coming towards you, “No Strider?” You turned to Frodo with a horrifying realization.
He shook his head, “Go! Up!” You followed the Hobbits to the top of the tower and waited. You shivered when you saw them come from the shadows. You heard nothing but your hammering heart in your chest. This was it. This could be the end. You sword was shaking in your hand.
“Back you devils!” Sam screamed trying to shield them off. You blocked a shot but was stopped when Frodo pulled the ring out. You gasped when they all ran from him. To your horror when he put the ring on he disappeared.
Strider came out of nowhere blocking back the Nazgul from all of you. You ran to Frodo in horror seeing the man defend the five of you with ease. A few of them went up in flames as kept fighting them off. They had enough when he got another went up and flames and ran off. Strider quickly came over to the five of you surrounding Frodo. You had your hand on his horrifyingly black wound. You’d never seen poison like that before.
“Help him Strider!” You cried in a shaky voice once he kneeled down next to you.
He picked the sword up shaking his head slowly, “He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade.” The blade vanished in his hand as Frodo writhed beneath you, “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.”
You looked down at the Hobbit in pain and let a single tear fall, “We will get you the help you need mister Frodo. Rest assured.” He picked the Hobbit up and began running, “Let us go.”
The four of you trailed Strider in a daze. The Nazgul screams seemed to ring out from every direction as you ran, “Hurry!” he shouted at the four of you with Frodo crying in his arms.
“We are six days from Rivendell! He will never make it!” Sam cried sending a shuddering realization through you.
You simply heard a faint whisper come from Strider ahead of you, “Hold on, Frodo.” From Strider who kept running and did not acknowledge Sam. As tired as you were you had to keep moving for Frodo’s sake. You ran and ran until you could no more and then you ran some more.
He only stopped when he ran into three petrified trolls. He set Frodo down looking around frantically. You and Sam went over to look after him. Same placed a gentle hand to the despondent Hobbit.
Sam shuddered at the touch, “Mr. Frodo! He’s going cold.”
“Is he going to die?” Pippen chimed in. You stood back looking over the shivering Hobbit who long since stopped crying out in pain.
Strider turned to the five of you with a concerned look crossing over his features, “He’s passing into the Shadow World. He’ll soon become a Wraith like them.” He stated so calmly. Your face grimaced at the horrifying realization. Frodo becoming a Nazgul?
Strider continued, “Sam, do you know the Athlelas plant?” You listened in but bent down to hold Frodo’s hand hoping some comfort would help the gasping Hobbit. His eyes were glazing over with something of a blue sheen that sent shivers down your body.
“Athelas?” Sam asked confused by the question.
“Kingsfoil.” Strider tried a different name.
Sam nodded, “Kingsfoil, aye, it’s a weed!”
“It may help the poisoning. Hurry!” He pushed the Hobbit off, “Miss Y/N. Stay with Frodo. We will be back with help.” You nodded holding onto his hand dearly.
Not a few moments later you saw the help arriving. A beautiful elf strode over and down to the quickly fading Hobbit. You took a step back as she took a step towards him. You gaped at the beauty that she was leaning down to your newfound friend. An elf in real life. She was beyond your wildest imagination. You had been told of their beauty, but this was bordering on ethereal.
“I am Arwen. I have come to help you.” She whispered into his ear, “Hear my voice. Come back to the light.” She grabbed at his hand while Strider handed her the plant.
“Who is she?” Merry asked quietly as Frodo was tended to.
“Arwen, an elf.” You whispered repeating what you heard her speak to Frodo not seconds ago, “She’s going to save him.” You said out loud to convince yourself more so than the group of Hobbits.
“Frodo,” She whispered, “He’s fading.” She sounded concerned as she looked over to Strider, “He’s not going to last. We must get him to my father.” The two of them stood as Strider grabbed at Frodo, “I’ve been looking for you for two days.” She said to Strider. You watched as the scene unfolded before you not wanting to get in the way of whatever was occurring.
“Where are you taking him?” Sam asked confused and terribly concerned for his friend.
He was ignored as Arwen continued, “There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know.” You watched as Strider put Frodo onto the horse with ease.
Suddenly Strider started talking in what you assumed to be Sindarin as you could not understand what they were saying. They must have agreed upon something as Arwen hopped onto the horse and took off with Frodo. Your mind was sent into a spiral as you guessed where he was going and off so quickly.
“She is taking him to Rivendell. To Lord Elrond for him to be healed. She is the faster rider and will get him there sooner. Come, we must go.” He motioned for the group to keep moving, “Miss Y/N, will you walk with me?”
You nodded speeding up your pace to match his, “Master Strider.”
“Strider is fine.” He hummed as he led the group out of the forest somehow knowing exactly where to go.
“Is he going to make it?” You had to ask him. The thought of his passing was eating at you.
He nodded, “His best chance is with Arwen. The sooner we get to Rivendell the sooner we will find out.”
“Well then let us speed up our pace then.” You smiled up at him.
He chucked and nodded. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence as you occasionally made sure the chatty Hobbits behind you were faring all right.
“She is pretty.” You spoke after a while of not being able to get Arwen’s face out of your mind.
“Arwen?” He questioned you giving you a curious once over seeing that the statement seemingly came out of nowhere.
“Aye. She is beautiful.”
“She is. Most elves are.” He agreed with you, “She is wed to another healer. Her father set the marriage up ages ago before you great great grandmother was even a thought.”
“Oh, to have the lifespan of an elf!” You laughed feeling the weight of whatever tension you were holding onto about Arwen be lifted.
“I bet it is not all that it seems to be.” You nodded as the two of you continued on the trek to Rivendell occasionally chatting about random things back and forth. You were so caught up in him you failed to notice the Hobbits watching the two you of converse the entire journey back as if you were already a married couple just strolling the lands.
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“Welcome to Rivendell miss Y/N.” Aragorn smiled when he saw your gaping face taking in all the scenery stretching beyond your wildest imagination. He too was struck in awe by its beauty the first time he had come across it all those years ago.
“This cannot be real.” You gasped as he took your hand, pulling you along to look along the city.
“Aye. It is. Come, I want to show you your living quarters for the time being.” He pulled you along knowing exactly where to go in Lord Elrond’s castle. He stopped in what you assumed to be the center seeing two people walking towards the two of you. The wizard and a dark-haired elf stopped just short of you.
“Ah, welcome young one.” Gandalf walked up with who you assumed to be Lord Elrond, “It is wonderful to see you in one piece. Unlike our young Frodo.” He chuckled not realizing what he had said sounded bad without knowing how he was.
Your face dropped, “Oh no, did he not make it?”
Gandalf shook his head hastily in realization of his error, “He is fine young one. A few more hours and he would not have made it.” Gandalf stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder in reassurance, “Aragorn here will show you to your chambers.”
You cocked your head to the side, “Aragorn? You said that back in Sarn Ford as well. Who is Aragorn?” This really was not your place to speak in front of so many important people. But you were always a curious one, so you had to ask. The worst they could do is refuse to elaborate any further and you would not press. You did understand boundaries even if you pushed them.
Strider looked at Gandalf with a question in his gaze. Gandalf always had a plan. He could see the feelings bubbling to the surface for Aragorn for his newfound human companion that had to be a gift from Valar himself. Gandalf knew the longer he kept his identity from you the harder the breach of trust would befall the two of you.
Gandalf nodded giving his friend a push towards you. He knew Aragorn had to admit this to you himself. You saw Lord Elrond cock his head in confusion watching the interaction go down. He must not have been privy to what had been going down in Gandalf’s mind.
“Ah, miss Y/N. Strider is my Ranger name. It is my identity. As is Aragorn. Son of Arathorn.” He spoke slowly watching as your face twisted from confusion to realization. You may have been from Eriabor, but you surely knew who Arathorn was.
He continued, “I am also called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor."
“A rightful King?” You asked him with widened eyes. You had no clue that you had been traveling with such a company. You had been so crass it made you want to run away right then and there, especially with Gandalf and Lord Elrond’s amused gazes watching the interaction between two humans.
He nodded, “You are correct.”
“Aragorn.” You spoke for the first time giving him a wide smile, “I do like it. It suits a King such as yourself. Would you mind if I continued to call you Strider though?” Bowing your head slightly you felt a rush of embarrassment pulsate through you. Why were you so unladylike? It was all so thoughtless when he was just a Ranger. Not a bloody King of Gondor.
He waited until your eyes met his again, “No need to bow miss Y/N. And thank you. You may call me either.”
A quick head nod was interrupted by Gandalf, “We must be off. Aragorn drop the young one off at her residence. You are free to explore the castle and Rivendell. But we will need you to meet us in the gardens. We have much to discuss before the Council of Elrond shows up in a few days.” Gandalf spoke directly to Strider who just nodded in agreement.
“Come miss Y/N.” He took your hand and pulled you along quickly, “You will enjoy your stay here. It is a wonderful place. There is quite a bit to do, and the elves are very kind.” He tried his best to reassure you knowing that Gandalf was right. You could not go on. You were not prepared for this kind of journey to any extent. Gandalf also revealed of Aragorn’s known feelings for you. You would be a distraction he could not have along the journey.
“It seems like it.” You grinned thankful you were able to do your own thing for the afternoon. You felt bad for Strider or Aragorn. He seemed to have quite a bit of business to attend to.
He stopped at a door letting you inside. It was small but quant and rather extravagant. Fine details laced every surface. You’d come to expect nothing less from the elves, “I will find you later. Enjoy your day miss Y/N.”
The days went by slowly as you got acquainted with Rivendell. You had the sneaking suspicion your journey was also stopping as Strider was not so keen on giving you any information even though he was gone for days on end.
It was on the day of the gathering of the Council of Elrond that you had all but given up. That was until there was a rapid knocking at your door. Thankfully your elf maiden Nimloth had made sure you were dressed as Strider stood before you with a smile on his face, “Come miss Y/N. The Council of Elrond is starting soon.”
“I am invited?” You were sure there was a dumb look on your face.
He nodded slowly, “Gandalf insisted. Lord Elrond relented.”
You followed him in silence to the gathering of the council. You sat behind Frodo closer to Lord Elrond and away from all of the action that was sure to go down.
It was not long after you took a seat that Lord Elrond stood gathering the council to begin, “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old and new,” His eyes met yours giving you a small wink before continuing on, “You’ve been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fail. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo.” A shiver ran down your spine at his straight to the point opening. This was not good.
You watched as Frodo stood and dropped the ring on the stump in the middle of the council.
You heard the man called Boromir speak up, “So it is true.” He looked at the ring with something of desire lacing it. You looked at Strider who was watching the man skeptically. He continued, “The doom of man. It is a gift.” Your heart raced at such a senseless statement. You watched as Strider grew angry at his arrogance.
Nevertheless, Boromir continued, “A gift of the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against them.” He passionately spoke hoping to gain the agreement of the Council.
But Strider would have none of that false speak, “You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.” Your heart rate sped down at the sensible statement to the man you had grown quite fond of in your week or so of traveling. You had grown a strong liking to the handsome Ranger who saved your life without a second thought.
Boromir looked skeptically at Strider, “And what would a Ranger know of this matter?” He asked with a smug look to his face. You wanted to slap that look right off of his face for he had no clue who he was talking to! A king!
But the elf called Legolas stood quickly in his defense, “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, Son of Arathon.” You watched as his face scrunched up in a minor irritation. He had tried so hard to keep that a secret and now it was out, “You owe him your allegiance.” He finished looking just as irritated as Strider did. It still felt weird to call him Aragorn. So, you kept up with Strider.
Boromir turned back to him, “Aragorn.” He spoke with a hint of shock in his tone, “This is Isildur’s heir?”
“An heir to the throne of Gondor.” Legolas spoke earning a glare from Strider who spoke to him in Elvish quickly. You wondered what he said because Boromir looked suddenly very angry.
Boromir nearly spat with vengeance while looking at the blond elf, “Gondor has no king.” He turned to look back at Strider and shook his head, “Gondor needs no king.”
Gandalf spoke up breaking the tension among men, “Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.”
Lord Elrond stood, “You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.”
The dwarf called Gimli stood then, “What are we waiting for?” He grabbed his axe and sliced at it in attempt to shatter it. Of course, that did nothing but startle the entire council into submission.
“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin... by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade.” Lord Elrond spoke matter of factly. You watched as Frodo nearly collapsed from the pain and realization. You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder hoping he would find some solace in the touch.
Lord Elrond continued, “It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.” Your heart was hammering in your chest at the realization. This would be no easy task for anybody let alone a Hobbit and human group, “One of you, must do this.” Lord Elrond commanded sending your head into so many different directions. Would Strider go? Would the Hobbits? Surely you would never be able to go. No, Strider would never allow it. He had made that very clear.
Boromir sighed, “One does not simply walk into Mordor. It’s Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly.”
Legolas was angry now. He shot up from his seat spitting his words at the man, “Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.”
Gimli spoke up next, “And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!” The tension grew in the air as everyone began to feel uneasy of the task at hand.
Boromir stood next, “And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?”
Gimli continued, “I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!” He shouted. Your eyes went wide as everything seemed to be going away from the goal at hand, “Never trust an Elf!”
The group erupted in bickering as you and Frodo sat back in fear of what was going to happen. All but suddenly you watched as Frodo stood. He shouted, “I will take it.” It took him a few attempts before the group heard him.
“I will take the Ring to Mordor.” He said again once everyone had quieted down. You gulped as you watched the scene unfold.
He spoke again, “Though, I do not know the way.”
Gandalf nodded, “I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins as long as it is yours to bear.”
You sat further back into your chair as you watched Strider stand, “If by my life or death I can protect you I will.” Your heart sunk at his words. He caught your forlorn gaze and gave you a simple smile. He walked to Frodo and knelt before the small Hobbit, “You have my sword.”
Legolas stepped forward, “And you have my bow.” Your heart raced seeing the elf walk forward. Thank goodness he volunteered. You had heard stories of the mighty elf warrior of Mirkwood.
“And my ax.” Gimli agreed as he walked towards the growing group. You stood from your spot away from the group, closer towards Lord Elrond. Almost as if you had already known your assigned fate.
Boromir joined slowly, “You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council then Gondor will see it done.” He stood by the group.
Suddenly the other hobbits joined in earning a hard-earned smile from Lord Elrond.
“Nine companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.” You watched as Elrond anointed the group complete. Your downcast eyes found Striders who looked at you with all the care in the world. You were more than nervous for the man you had grown so fond of so quickly. Dare you say you might actually have real genuine feelings for the man standing in the group of nine.
“The journey is no place for a lady.” Strider insisted as he pulled you away from the fellowship. He had conjured up a hundred scenarios in his mind and decided you could not come after seeking the guidance of Gandalf. It was far too dangerous for someone as delicate as you were. He shuddered at the thought of seeing you with a sword far too big for you trying your best to defend not only yourself but the Hobbits from the Nazgul. He never wanted to see or put you in such a situation as that ever again.
Your look broke his heart ten times over. It is not like he wanted to leave you in Rivendell with the elves. He would do anything to take you, but it was just far too dangerous. The encounter with the Nazgul did it in enough for him to hold firm on the decision, “I’m not a lady Aragorn, and you know it! But I understand.” You countered but admitted your faults. You were nothing but a lowly peasant from a tiny village near Eriador. You didn’t mean much to middle earth, a place holder for whatever Valar had planned.
He twisted his head to the side giving you a once over and a sly smile, “Not yet anyway.” He walked towards you, stopping right in front of you. Wanting to say the next word so all the elves and Hobbits behind him couldn’t hear. Having to turn your head up to make eye contact he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I have every intention of making you one, my lady.”
Your eyes growing wide and the rosiness that formed on your neck and cheeks made the elves behind him laugh in unison amongst themselves. You noticed the confusion lining the Hobbits faces, no doubt wonder what he had said to you to illicit such a reaction.
You looked back to him with the hint of smile dancing on your lips, “They can hear you Strider.”
He brushed the pads of his fingers along your jawline, “Let them.” He had yet to be so forthcoming with his feelings so far. Sure, you had only known him a little over a week but you had not left his side since you met him. It had already felt so long ago. And when the heart knew it knew. It knew it had feelings for the handsome man with the most beautiful blue eyes that looked at you so kindly standing before you.
“Please be safe.” Your eyes welled with unshed tears as you accepted his command. You could not go along with them. You’d be nothing but the burden you so desperately wanted to avoid. But you also did not want to stay in Rivendell. The elves seemed welcoming enough but who knew how long he would have to be gone. You would surely overstay your welcome.
A curt nod came from the man you’d grown to love in such a short amount of time, “As you wish.” He moved his fingers to your eyes brushing away the tears that had managed to spill over, “Do not cry. I will be back as soon as I can.” The moment felt far too intimate to have the whole company trying not to watching but paying close attention anyway, they were not being sly about like they thought they were. They had all grown to adore you in some capacity, more some than others. Pippen was especially sad your journey had ended there. He had quite enjoyed getting to know you along the short trek from The Shire to Rivendell. You were unlike any other mortal he had met.
“I know. But you will find me in Bree.” You answered him letting the tears fall even as you tried your best to stop them.
He shook his head quickly, “No, you will stay here. In Rivendell. You will be protected here. Lord Elrond has assured me of that.” That sounded more like Aragorn than the Strider you knew. It hit you that the rightful King of Gondor was standing right in front of you. No wonder he had seemed so effortless in leading the group to Rivendell. It was in his blood.
“I do not belong here Aragorn.” You spoke in a plea muttering his actual name for just the second time. It still felt foreign, but you welcomed it on your tongue. Aragon, King of Gondor.
His eyes piqued up in utter curiosity at the sudden name change. You had seemed so adamant on continuing to call him by his Ranger name despite finding his true identity through Gandalf, “You can find an identity here my lady. Lord Elrond will not let that falter. Do you not believe me?” He frowned not enjoying seeing you in such a distressed state. He too had grown to have deep feelings for you. You were kind and compassionate. Smarter than you knew. Made him smile more than he ever had in his life in the short time he had known you. You kept him on his toes, and he adored that about you. He grew to like maybe even love you in mere days.
“I am a burden here. Useless. They will get sick of me.” You were pleading to him now. If you knew better you would not be pushing somebody of such high stature.
He gulped not knowing what to say. He could pick up on your stress through your expression and the way you picked at your fingernails. A habit he’d seen both at the Inn and when the group was attacked by the Nazgul. Just as he was about to open his mouth he heard Elrond from behind him. And bless him he thought for he had no idea how to calm your racing mind.
“Have you not enjoyed your stay here at Rivendell? Do you not wish to stay?” Lord Elrond spoke up after hearing the concerns you had spoken in private to Aragorn. He knew he likely should have just stayed quiet and let Aragorn handle the situation. But his overly sensitive ears could pick up the frantic panic in your voice towards the man.
You shook your head quickly, “No my lord. I wish to not be a burden to your home. You see I… I do not have much to offer your city.” You hung your head in shame hoping you did not fully insult Elrond. He had already been so kind to you.
“A burden?” He shook his head walking over to the two of you. All eyes still watching the interaction with the utmost curiosity, “You would hardly be a burden. I will be honest with you. With many of the elves planning to take to the sea I will need some help preparing. You will have a place here. Rest assured.”
A small sigh let out from your chest. Aragorn watched you intently with a bright smile on his face seeing the Elf relax your mind in mere moments. Leave it to Elrond to calm you down so easily. He needed to take a page or two from his book.
“Are you sure Lord Elrond?” You asked timidly to the much, much taller elf. Why’d they have to be so beautiful and intimidating at the same time?
He gave you a quick nod before turning, “I have already made up my mind child. Now let us go. The Fellowship has much planning to do before they are off in a few days.” He motioned for you to follow him.
You turned back to Aragorn before you left, “I wish you luck. I will see you soon. Be safe.” Taking a risk, you grabbed for his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Anything for you my lady.” You caught the brief wink he had given you before bowing his head.
You walked over to the rest of the group, “I wish you all nothing but the best. Please take care of each other. I want to see you all when this is over. Yea?” Your voice broke at the end.
The Hobbits crowded around you giving you one last hug, “We will take your word to heart Lady Y/N.” Pippen smiled as he hugged your side.
“I am no lady.” You laughed once more. Where had they all gotten this ridiculous notion from?
“That’s not what Legolas told us.” Frodo smirked while looking over at Aragorn was deep in conversation with Boromir not paying a lick of attention to the goodbyes you were giving. It hurt him just as much as it was hurting you so he distracted himself with the other man in the Fellowship.
Your eyes found the blonde elf who attempted to feign innocence for the second time that afternoon, “You are a rightful menace Legolas.” You muttered to him almost finding enjoyment out of his butting in.
He shrugged innocently, “I am not sure what you are talking about Lady Y/N.”
You smiled shaking your head while giving each Hobbit a quick squeeze, “Good luck Legolas. Please watch out for him?” Your request may have been too much for the elf and you knew it. A big ask that you would have never of done had you not fallen for him so quickly.
But he agreed, “You have my word, my lady.” He smirked sensing your aversion to the formality you so desperately tried to avoid.
A quick shake of the head and you went off to follow Elrond you was waiting for you patiently in the distance, “I will see you all soon.” You waved, not waiting for their response as it felt to be too much in the moment. It amazed you
“Thank you for your hospitality Lord Elrond.” You said quickly once you caught up to the dark-haired elf.
He gave you what you was sure was a genuine smile, “It brings me a great pleasure to host you Lady Y/N.”
Your mouth gaped, “Is he forcing you to say that?” Surely you were going to have to get used to the title if Elrond had agreed to it. It would be shameful to try and correct the ruler of the land. Even you had some semblance of sanity and preservation.
Elrond shook his head quickly. He gave you a serious expression, one that you were not used to seeing from elf, “Aragorn is the rightful heir to the Throne of Gondor. We recognize the title here in Rivendell. I respect what he wishes. If he has given you that title you should wear that as a badge of honor.”
“You think so?” You thought you might have been pressing your luck with the lord. But he had the patience of somebody you had never met before. He was like no human you knew even if he was half of it.
If he was offended at your questioning he hid it well. A small smile adorned his features as he led you down the path to an empty room in the castle he had placed you in earlier, “I know so. When you have been around as long as I. You tend to notice these small things.”
He stopped in front of a door you had not been privy too in your prior explorations, “Your quarters for the time being. I had Nimloth move your belongings from your previous room to here. I suspect you will find it adequate.”
Your eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he opened the massive wood doors. The most intricate carvings of wood was placated on every surface of the room. The detail and craftsmanship was beyond anything you had seen in your tiny little village. You ran your fingers along the different sets of furniture admiring the fine detail that was crafted into every surface, “More than adequate Lord Elrond. Thank Nimloth for me?” You asked after finding all your belongings neatly put away.
He bowed to you. An elf bowed to you! What had this life become? Once so lost now you were somebody a lord found pleasure in conversing with.
“I will see to it. She will fetch you for dinner as well. Welcome to Rivendell.” Without waiting for a response, he shut the doors behind him letting you be with your thoughts. And oh, were they racing beyond your wildest measure.
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It had been 414 days since Aragorn and the Fellowship had set out to destroy the ring. You refused to give up any sort of hope as you heard bits and pieces of information from Lord Elrond. You had grown close to elf in your stay at Rivendell. He had given you sage life advice time and time again. You were there for him when Arwen and his sons went off to sea not to be seen again until he were to take his trip. You knew he was utterly lonely and wanting nothing more than to go be with his wife and children. But he had a duty to middle earth that he would see too. He would see that the age of man had a true leader in Aragorn to guide peace and prosperity forward. He knew the age of elf was done and good. Frodo just had to finish it by destroying the ring.
You were sitting in the study reading a text in Sindarin, Lord Elrond had taught you enough of the language to get by, when you heard the doors to the study open with a loud thud. You set the text down on the desk as you peaked your head towards the door.
“Lady Y/N?” Lord Elrond’s voice called out.
You stood from your chair, “Yes my lord?” You caught him smiling ear to ear at the front of the study. A giddy feeling of shock shot throughout your body in anticipation for what might come next.
“They are back.”
You felt like your heart might have actually stopped beating there for a second, “Aragorn?” You asked breathlessly.
“Alive and well. Come.” He motioned you to follow him just like he had all those days ago when you first got to Rivendell.
When you spotted him out in the courtyard you did not give a second thought about being a lady anymore. You all out sprinted to the man who had consumed you whole in his time away. He wrapped you in his arms once you ran right into his chest. Letting out a small grunt from the impact he started laughing. A full-on belly laugh rang out from the man as he held you in his arms once more.
“You came back.” You felt the tears forming in your eyes as you buried yourself in his chest.
He held you in his arms as tightly as he could relishing in the moment of just being there with you, “I gave you my word, my lady. Did I not?” He pulled you back so he could look at you. Ethereal. Rivendell had been nothing but good to you he concluded. He would have to thank Lord Elrond for being so hospitable towards the one he had loved.
“You did. Thank you.” You grasped him a little tighter as he clinged onto you just the same.
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You gasped opening the letter from the Shire, “Sam and Rose!” You ran over to Aragorn with a gleeful smile on your face, “Look, they are to be wed in six months! Long after you are crowned King. I would like to go.”
“Ahh, finally.” Aragorn grabbed the letter from your hand with a smile on his face. You admired him as he read the joyous news of the union. He was so handsome. And he was soon to be crowned King of Gondor, Gandalf had shared with the group the night they came back. He was due to be crowned in two months’ time in Minas Tirith. It gave time for all parties to travel to the desired destination to see the rightful heir be crowned king.
“I was worried he would never go for it. We shall go if you will have me?” Aragorn noted as he smoothed out the robes for tomorrow’s crowning. He had felt more nervous of the thought of proposing to you than he was about being crowned King. Valar calm his nerves.
“Aye. I would love to go with you Aragorn. But is that so? Had he been shy about her?” You asked your love that you were almost afraid to admit to.
He nodded recalling all the time Samwise made comments about the Hobbit he had loved from afar, “He was never the most risk adverse. I think the journey changed him.”
“Yea.” You nodded, “It was good for him.”
He nodded his head. His soft expression hardening just a tinge as he took you in, “You are so beautiful. When I did not think that I was going to make it… the thought of you kept me going. I am so honored to have you by my side.”
You leaned your head back into his chest letting the sun beat down on the two of you as he had helped you prepare for the journey to his rightful home. He had been to Minas Tirith many times before, but never as the King. He was overjoyed at the thought of bringing you to his home. He was not lying before when he promise to make you his lady. He was planning to wed to you not too long after he was crowned King.
“It is my honor Aragorn.” You felt him squeeze his hand along your waist.
He had taken you to his new home by horse. Just the two of you heading to his Kingdom. He wanted to spend the time with you and get to know you. And he was more than glad he did. He did not think it to be possible, but he had fallen more deeply in love with you on the month-long trek to Gondor. It had solidified what he had planned to do, propose to you as soon as he was crowned King. He had gotten Lord Elrond in on the plan as well. Surely, you would be more than irritated at the public display, but he knew you would soon get over it.
Your eyes lit up in amazement at the city that had spring up before you once you had finally made it after a little over a month on the road. It was more massive than even Rivendell had been. You had no idea such structures existed within the human world and was slightly ashamed you knew so little about your very own brethren.
“Welcome to Minas Tirith my lady.” A breathy whisper in your ear he watched below as you took in the city.
“This is… incredible Aragon.” Your eyes traveled everywhere in awe as he rode up the main street on his horse. You were pleasantly surprised at all the greetings even you were getting from all the citizens that resided within the city.
He led you straight to the castle at the center of the city knowing you were probably more than overwhelmed. Sure, he had warned you but actually seeing it and doing it was entirely different thing. He bowed to his guards as he made his way to his, and soon to be your, chambers.
“You will sleep here tonight.” He said matter of factly as you explored his chambers.
You shook your head, “I cannot. This is your room. You need to rest before tomorrow! You are being crowned King. That does not happen every day Aragorn.” You protested but he simply shook his head.
“It is all right.” He led you to his bed, “I insist my lady. I have made up my mind and you will not be able to change it.” He grinned beautifully as you sat down on the bed, accepting defeat so easily.
“So stubborn you are.”  You mused at him with a delighted look on your face. It felt like a step was being taken as he insisted you stay in his quarters. Protected by the best of the best. He saw you as nothing but precious to him.
He chucked softly, “I must leave you to it. Feel free to explore. One of the guards can show you around if you would like. I must see to a few things before tomorrow. I will see you after the ceremony?” He asked watching you carefully. He wanted you to be comfortable before he left you. He knew it would be tough to go a night without each other after spending so much alone for the better part of a month.
“All right.” You nodded quickly, “I will see you tomorrow, my King.” You grinned right back at him knowing you would never tire of calling him that. It was a far cry from the Strider you had met so long ago now.
He brushed his hand along your jaw. Giving you a brief bow, he spoke once more, “My lady.” Before walking out his chambers and leaving you too it. A wave of exhaustion coupled by the softness of the mattress below you sent you into a slumber much sooner than you were expecting. Maybe you would get the grand tour another time. For now, sleep overtook you..
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You watched in awe as Gandalf crowned Aragorn with amazement in his own eyes. You had truly never seen anything so grandeur in your life. All this for your Aragorn. Yet, you felt he had deserved this and so much more.
“Now come the days of the King.” Gandalf’s voice boomed throughout Minas Tirith as thousands stood to watch Aragorn be crowned. You felt your eyes well up with proud tears as the crown laid atop his head. He was so striking. So Kingly. Your breath was taken away as he turned to the crowd. He was your King.
“This day does not belong to one man… but to all.” His voice now boomed filling your chest with the utmost pride for the man you loved, “Let us together rebuild this world… that we may share in the days of peace.” He smiled as the crowd erupted in cheers for their newly crowned King. You joined in happily clapping and cheering along with the city folk.
He sang as the flower petals began to fall. You watched as his company and all those around him bowed to him as he walked amongst the crowd. Your heart sped up rapidly as he was moving along closer, and closer to you.
Elrond pulled you back behind a shield at your protest as Legolas stepped forward. Being none the wiser you shot your elder a precarious look as he told you to be quiet and wait a second and you would see what was going on. He did not lie to you. Lord Elrond never did.
The elf beside you pulled the shield away leaving you staring right into the icy blue eyes of the man you had loved so dearly. You gulped but stepped towards him. He looked just as entranced as you felt.
Feeling overwhelmed at the entirely of the situation you bowed your head to your King once you were mere inches in front of him. Never before had so many eyes been on you. Yet he had made it feel like it really was just the two of you at that moment.
He would have none of that though. He took his hand under your chin and pulled it up, so you were looking at him. He too forgot that thousands of people were watching. It felt like it was just you and him. You had that effect on him. Your doe eyes staring up at him so desperately is what did him in. He could simply wait no longer to have what he wanted… you.
When you smiled at him he did not care any longer. He went straight in for the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him as he spun you around, happier than ever before. He had let his intentions be known. You were his for forever, his forever.
You would be embarrassed later but now it was just you and him. A giggle erupted from you as you hugged him once more. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along as he went to search for the Hobbits.
You took a knee after Aragorn spoke, “My friends… you bow to no one.” A smile erupted on your face as you watched the kingdom take a knee for them. Frodo’s face told the story. Aragorn gently wiped off the tears that were streaming down your face.
“I love you, my Queen.” He whispered in your ear.
“Your Queen?” You gasped looking up to him. Surely you did not think you would take
“Are we to be wed no?” He asked curiously.
“Aye.” You nodded, “I just did not believe to have such a title.” You looked away from him as he directed everyone to stand once more.
“I am King. You are to be my Queen.” He said so matter of factly you could not believe you were questioning yourself.
“As you wish.” You smiled so gleefully not truly believing this was actually your life now.
He leaned in for one more gentle kiss to please the crowd, “My Queen.” He whispered letting you know he had every good intention in the world with you. For the first time in his already long life, he could not wait to get his life started with you.
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electracution · 2 days
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ARMY DREAMERS
I am aware the "trend" has long ago passed, but I've only just gotten around to it. Do not tell me it doesn't fit.
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Here is a version with all of them together.
I haven't done digital in a while, but I've enjoyed it a lot, surprisingly. Thought I had to relearn a lot.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the finished artwork as much as I do 🩷
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captaincanonly · 18 days
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this concludes my current hobbit + lotr doodle dump :) hope you enjoy!
part 1 part 2
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A Shoulder To Cry On - Boromir X Female Reader
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Title: A Shoulder To Cry On
Boromir X Female Reader
Additional Characters: Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli (Mentioned), the Balrog (Mentioned), and Gandalf (Mentioned)
Requested by @micheleamidalajedi!
WC: 1,400
Warnings: Murder, death of Gandalf mentioned, depression, crying, maybe hurt/comfort, grief, survivor's guilt, slight angst, and fluff
Your feet and the muscles in your legs hurt as you continue to follow behind the rest of the Fellowship; the dried up orange and brown leaves crunching and breaking under your feet with each step. No one said anything, just following Aragorn as you all traveled through a thick forest. You'd usually take the time to let your mind wander and daydream, in awe of the beautiful trees and wonderful world around you. But, you couldn't find it in yourself to let your mind fill with dreams and fantasies, you were grieving. Gandalf, your mentor, and hero was dead. Killed by the fiery hands of the Balrog, who had been hiding in the dark pits of Caradhras, one of the Mountains of Moria.
You felt as if your heart had been ripped from your chest entirely, seeing him die right before your eyes like that. The look on his face as he held onto the edge of the stone walkway, eyes full of desperation. Watching him die... It was the last image you'll ever have of your mentor, of the man who gave you hope, who taught you how amazing and special magic was. A man who would tell you to always trust your instincts, even if they weren't perfect; that there was no greater power than the power of true friendship and companionship. He was a great teacher, the best mentor you could ask for, and now, he is gone. And you couldn't do anything about it. It broke you; it shattered every last bit of happiness and hope within you.
You stared up at the sky above, watching as it slowly turned from blue to a pinkish-orange; the sun was setting. "We shall take rest for the night." You heard Aragorn announce, almost bumping into Gimli as he stopped walking before you. 
Everything happened so fast, and yet, so slowly. You just watched as the members of the Fellowship got their sleeping mats ready, food cooking, and so on. You sat alone, on a broken log of an old Birch tree, relieved that your feet could finally rest but your mind still raced. You stared at the ground, watching the dull, green grass flow slightly in the brief wind, spotting a small bug crawl its way up a blade of grass before lifting its wings and flying off into the sky. You followed it with your sad eyes, almost wishing you could do the same, to fly off and leave; be free.
"Here, Y/N." You heard someone say, your eyes blinking as you let your eyes settle on the small wooden bowl of soup, held by Legolas. "It would be best to eat." He finished, as you slowly took the bowl from his grasp, stirring the potato soup with the spoon, not really feeling like eating at all. The thought of eating made your stomach ache as you felt your chest clench uncomfortably. Pushing down the pain, you pushed through, taking bite after bite of your soup. You hoped that as the food settled in your stomach, warming your body, you'd sleep peacefully tonight.
"Y/N." You heard your name being called, looking up to make eye contact with Aragorn from across the small camp. "You'll have the first watch." On that note, you felt your shoulders droop, as you got yourself mentally ready for the first few hours of night watch.
~~~
The night was cold, but you were grateful for the fur cloak you had around your shoulders. The sky was completely dark, except for the small twinkling stars that littered the sky, glimmering and shining like crystals against the darkness. There was a calmness that came with the peaceful silence, minus the crickets and other bugs. Your thoughts wandered back to Gandalf, your mind replaying his death over and over again. Your breathing became more rapid the longer you sat outside, staring up at the crescent moon and stars. Tears started to sting your eyes, threatening to fall at any second. You didn’t want to cry, you knew it wouldn't do you any good. That and, you’d end up waking up everyone else and ruining their sleep and lives just because you were crying.
But, you wanted to cry, and so you did. You let the tears fall down your cheeks as silent sobs escapes your lips, feeling your emotions take control of your body. You buried your face in your arms as the sobs wracked your body, allowing the tears to roll freely. All your pain and sadness and grief came pouring out, the pain of losing someone you cared deeply for was too much for you. Suddenly, something touched your shoulder, causing you to jump, your head whipping to look in the direction of the touch.
There, standing before you was Boromir, looking down at you with a concerned expression. His hand rested softly on your shoulder. “Are you alright?” He asked softly, not wanting to wake the others; concern evident on his features. Your sniffles slowed down to quiet hiccups, and you wiped away the tears from your cheeks, a bit embarrassed. You shook your head, staring down at the ground before you, avoiding eye contact. Boromir frowned, before taking a seat beside you. Your shoulders bounced as you continued to cry, trying to calm yourself down to say your dignity until Boromir spoke up again. "Do you... Want to talk about what is making you so unhappy?" He whispered from beside you, clasping his hands together.
"No, not really." You muttered, wiping your tears, "I'm sorry I woke you. I'll calm down." You continued, as Boromir just sighed, shaking his head. 
"Do not fret, you did not wake me. My mind kept me awake." He spoke, before glancing over at you, watching as you continued to dry your eyes before letting out a small breath, shivering. Slowly, hesitantly, Boromir lifted his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders, comforting you the best way he could. 
As he hugged you, you leaned into him, holding his arm tightly. Silence fell between the two of you, both unsure what to do or say. Finally, your body relaxed into Boromir's arm. You felt his hand gently move to stroke your hair, and you closed your eyes, leaning further into his embrace. You felt safe and warm. For a moment, the sorrows of your life seemed far away, far removed from you. "I miss Gandalf." You finally spoke, breaking the silence as you began to calm down once again. Your voice was shaky as you spoke, and you could feel Boromir tense as he listened to you speak, "He's been my mentor since I was a kid… He's helped me become who I am today… I don't know what to do without him..." You trailed off, taking in a deep breath as the tears started to well up once more. "... What happened to him was so sudden... And I could not save him," You let out another shaky breath, looking up at Boromir with wide, desperate eyes, "Why did I not save him?" You cried, closing your eyes in fear, "Did I fail him?"
"No, Y/N." Boromir quickly said, moving his hand to cup your cheek, turning your head to look up at him, "You did not fail Gandalf. What had happened was not in your control. There was nothing you, or any of us could have done to prevent his death." He spoke calmly, keeping his tone steady as he spoke. 
"It doesn't feel like that." You mumbled sadly, looking up at him.
Boromir stayed silent, not saying anything for a moment. "Y/N..." He spoke quietly, squeezing your shoulders slightly. "... Do not dwell on the past." He told you, his words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. "I know how much he means to you, but I would think that Gandalf would want you to continue on." He explained.
You let out a heavy sigh, staring into his greenish-gray eyes. "Yes, I guess you're right. Thank you, Boromir." You replied quietly, "... I just wish he survived." You murmured softly, resting your head against his chest.
"As do I," Boromir replied, his voice soft, his fingers raking through your hair, "As do I."
And as the night continued, Boromir continued your night watch, holding you as you slept in his arms, the crickets and the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
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shut-the-doors · 2 months
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New fanfic: My Lord
The Lord of the rings (M/M) — 1,581 words
It was mentioned in the book that Denethor would not give Aragorn the throne of Gondor so easily. So I thought, what if Denethor and Boromir hadn't died. This is my little sketch. Also, I really wish Faramir got the praise he deserves.🤭
Aragorn becomes the king of Gondor, but not everyone is happy with it. Denethor sends Boromir to kill him.
Note that this fanfic was originally written in Ukrainian, and this is its English translation.
(I will be grateful for your kudos and comments)
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brigwife · 5 months
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What if Boromir survived BUT still lost his horn and Faramir just thought he was dead. And then at the Battle of the Pelennor fields his big brother returns alive and well but they never actually reunite because Denethor succeeds in burning Faramir alive, and Boromir is just too late to save him
That's what would probably happen if lotr was written by GRRM
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halfelven · 1 year
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forsaken
There is blood on the floor. It is dark and spilled and spreading. Faramir kneels beside it. He touches it, and his fingers come away dry and clean. He runs his hand over the vision again, but the marble is cool and dry.
‘What is it?’ Boromir asks.
Boromir is older and sensible. He does not see visions of blood where there is nothing. He does not have people talk to him in dark halls, voices echoing off the ceiling, footsteps following him.
He does not dream of a wave that covers him, falling and crushing, proclaiming to be death because it is.
‘It is nothing.’ Faramir watches a figure robed entirely in night-dark linen step through the blood, just inches from him. A crown of stars is set around its head, but there is no face. It tracks blood across the floor. Blood drips from pale hands burnt along the fingers. It walks away from him towards his brother, and Faramir cries out.
‘What?’ Boromir asks as it walks past him, down, down the hall. The stars of its crown gleam in the dark. It steps off the balcony, through the railing, and fades into the night sky.
‘I wish I didn’t see things,’ Faramir says.
Boromir’s arms are warm around him.
Boromir says, ‘What do you see?’
Faramir presses his hands against a clean floor that is flooded with blood.
‘Nothing, nothing,’ he says, like if he says what he sees, it will become real. He cannot have that wraith materialise. It is evil, and they could not kill it.
It is just a vision.
‘Faramir,’ Denethor says from the doorway. Faramir turns his head, and his hopes fade because he can see in his father’s eyes that he already knows.
‘Far,’ Denethor whispers. He kneels in the blood, his hand on Boromir’s shoulder, his arm around Faramir. The blood soaks up into his robes. Faramir touches his knee, but it is dry.
‘Father,’ he says.
‘What is happening?’ Boromir’s voice trembles.
Faramir can see it again. It is standing in the sky, far off the ground. The stars of its crown are brighter than the stars in the sky around it.
‘Father! Father!’ Faramir cries.
Denethor looks to the sky. He presses Faramir’s head against his chest and curses.
‘Do not look there.’
Faramir shuts his eyes, but still he sees it. The blood is warm and wet against his fingers.
His eyes fly open. His fingers are dry and clean. There is blood on the floor. The light of the lamps glows red and black in the blood that surrounds them.
Denethor lifts Faramir.
‘Nothing will harm you.’ He says it like a command.
‘What is happening?’ Boromir holds onto Faramir’s arm.
‘I am going to die,’ Faramir says. He saw wraiths when his mother died. That was five years ago. It feels like all the blood in his body has fallen to the floor, and his heart is beating still, carrying nothing through his body.
‘You will not. You will not die.’ Denethor carries Faramir far from any windows. He holds Faramir close. Boromir stands beside them, not asking any questions because he knows they will not be answered.
Faramir sees blood drip from Denethor’s head. It spreads on his clothes over his chest.
The wraith steps through the wall.
‘Go away! Go away!’ Faramir cries, but this is acknowledging it. Acknowledging it makes it real. It is not real. Boromir still cannot see it.
But does that mean it is not real?
It is solid. It is touching him. It strokes his face with burnt fingers. It has no face. He screams.
‘Boromir, run,’ Denethor says. Boromir does not run.
This is real like a dream is real. He is not asleep. This is real like life is real.
Denethor’s nails dig into him from how tightly he holds him.
‘No,’ he says. ‘You will not take my son.’
Boromir’s hands are clenched in fists, but this is not something that he can fight. It stands right beside Faramir, and Boromir slips through it. He feels it. He shudders.
‘What is that?’ he cries.
Faramir screams again. If he is sleeping, this should wake him.
He is not sleeping.
He feels the pain of fire lightly on his cheek. Its hands might burn.
No.
It is his father’s hand.
Denethor chants a dark magic that fills the room with smoke and sets his tongue on fire. His voice is steady, strong. It plunges through Faramir’s body and beats inside of him along with his heart. Denethor’s body is hot with fire—his spirit. Faramir sees it as a pale light. It is split in two, tattered and beaten.
But it is strong.
Boromir shakes beside them. Still he cannot see it. He holds Faramir, kneeling on the floor beside their father.
‘This cannot harm you,’ Denethor says. ‘It will not harm you. It will not harm you.’
Boromir crushes Faramir with how tightly he holds him. He has already lost his mother. He is surrounded with old magic he does not understand. Denethor holds them both.
‘Nothing can harm you.’ Denethor’s eyes are flames. ‘There is nothing evil here.’
The wraith fades. The smoke fades. The fire fades. The chanting that rung through the chamber is replaced by cold silence.
‘Never speak to them,’ Denethor says finally. ‘Faramir, how many times have I told you? You must never speak to them.’ He cradles Faramir, and he trembles. Boromir stares up with wild eyes.
‘What happened?’ he asks, desperate. ‘What was that?’
‘There was nothing here.’ Denethor kisses the top of Faramir’s head. ‘Nothing was here.’
Boromir cries against Faramir’s shoulder. Denethor, exhausted, lets Faramir go, and he falls into Boromir’s arms.
‘I wish I did not see things,’ Faramir whispers, too stricken now to cry.
‘You saw nothing.’ Denethor shakes with how tightly he holds his muscles. He looks wildly around the chamber, as if it might still be there. ‘There was nothing here,’ he commands.
Faramir nods. There is no blood on the floor.
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katajainen · 2 months
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To Be a Boy, Green as Spring (1281 words) by katajainen Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Boromir/Théodred (Tolkien) Characters: Boromir (Tolkien), Théodred (Tolkien), others mentioned - Character Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Teenagers, First Meetings, Summer Romance, First Kiss, Everyone was young and awkward once Series: Part 5 of February Ficlet Challenge 2024 - Tolkien vol.3
Summary:
It was dusk the first time Théodred rode to Mundburg. He was fifteen.
***
Day 5 of the February Ficlet Challenge 2024, prompt: “Dusk AND/OR High school/college AU.”
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syoddeye · 2 days
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every time i start to tag 'farah karim', tumblr autopopulates 'faramir' and tbh i think they'd get along.
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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year
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Parade, Boromir ~meg
He was practically dragging his little brother behind him as they raced through the crowded side-streets, giggling uncontrollably, dodging the women’s skirts and the men’s long legs. They could hear the bells and music and happy commotion from blocks away, and it drew them irresistibly, like moths to a fire.
There! Suddenly the narrow alleyway exploded onto the wide main street, and Boromir had to grab Faramir and drag him back into the crowd to keep from being trampled under a horse’s hoof. The procession was already underway—carts pulled by men and horses, dancers and musicians, even a juggler or two perched on his friend’s shoulders. Colored ribbons fluttered over every door and from the latches of the window-shutters; women leaned out of second-story windows, waved handkerchiefs, and cheered; children spun noisemakers and rang little bells.
One man was riding backwards in the back of a hay cart, with a burlap sack between his knees. When he saw Boromir and Faramir and the other children nearby, he winked at them, reached into his sack, and threw a fistful of something into the air.
Instantly, it was a mad scramble, and tiny hands snatched up the little treasures almost as quickly as they hit the pavement stones. Sweets! Colorful fruit sweets wrapped in thin brown paper and tied off with string. Faramir unwrapped his immediately and popped it into his mouth—it was too big for him, and he couldn’t talk for the next five minutes—but Boromir planned ahead and stuck his in his pocket for later.
This was a marvelous parade. The harvest had been good this year. Last year there had been a drought, and the storehouses began to run low, and Father had spent long hours closeted with his advisers, speaking in tense, hushed voices when they thought Boromir wasn’t listening. But this year had been good, and the furrows between Father’s brows seemed shallower than usual, and he’d allowed the boys to go see the harvest parade after their studies.
Suddenly, Faramir laughed, and Boromir turned to see what he’d found so funny. There was a juggler standing on one foot on the corner post of a cart, and he was balancing a little ball on his nose as he spun hoops on his arms. The children all thought this was great fun, and they clapped and hooted, and some tried to copy the trick with the sweets on their noses and dropped them.
One day, Boromir thought as he puffed out his chest, I’ll be at the front of the parade.
- - -
The victory procession through Osgiliath was a glad event. Ranks upon ranks of mail-clad soldiers, their silver helmets glittering in the sun, marched through the rubble-strewn streets of the Old City, cutting down the flags and foul trappings of the orcs and singing as they went.
When they came to the old Town Square, Boromir climbed what remained of the dry fountain and hoisted the flag of Gondor, and he gave a speech. His voice boomed sure and strong over the company, and the faces that looked up and heard his words were glad, but he saw the weariness of battle in them, and the way they held close wounded limbs or favored aching feet.
All men. No women leaning out of windows. No children gathered expectantly on the street. The rubble of buildings echoes our words back to us, hollow and joyless and lifeless.
No matter. This was only the beginning. They had reclaimed the City, and the glad voices of women and children and bells and noisemakers would ring out in these streets in time.
- - -
He swore to Faramir, before he set off north, that he would return with aid.
“And when I do,” he added, with a smile full of the courage and bluster that he wished he had, “you’d better hold a parade for me!”
They’d laughed at the time. It seemed funny then. Now months had passed, and Faramir had been very busy, but there were still times he looked out at the northern road and hoped to see his brother’s horse returning.
- - -
The procession bore a cloven horn to the Silent Street.
There was no body. Anduin had carried it away to the Sea.
Well, brother, he thought, as he peered into the flames and wished the clock could be turned back.
I had that parade for you, didn’t I?
- - -
WORD ASK GAME!
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thewulf · 1 month
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Hi omg I love your lotr stuff! Your writing is really beautiful! I literally read all you your lotr fics in one go haha!
I was wondering if I could request an Aragorn x reader where the fellowship is already on their quest and maybe the reader is a ranger or just a good fighter but maybe she saves Aragorn’s life and he asks her to join them. She does but she’s like, really jaded and distrustful (maybe she’s lived her life alone because someone hurt her or something) and the story is just her progressively softening towards people and specifically Aragorn. Maybe she’s got heaps of scars that Aragorn later sees and is like “who did this to you?!” I love me some good hurt/comfort and it would be amazing to see you write this story. If not, all good and I look forward to whatever you write in the future ❤️
Ouhh! I really love this request!! You got it :)
I am heading out of town on a Bachelorette Trip this weekend so it may be a week or two before I can write it but rest assured its on my list :)
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graaaaceeliz · 1 year
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Something I love to do is write crossovers people haven't done already or haven't done much of, and here's one I can't find anything for.
Meet soldier in His Majesty George's Army, Richard Sharpe... a man with many well-hidden talents, a keen eye for an impossible mission, and terrible, terrible nightmares. And if he sometimes calls out words nobody understands, if he sometimes calls for a man he calls Captain, King, Brother... well. Everyone has a past.
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iambeees · 1 year
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I present to you: the MOST devastating characters
HERE ME OUT I PROMISE THEY'RE LINKED
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Theyre all characters who believed in change. Characters so painfully human. I see them in my teachers. I see them in politicians. I see them in the people around me.
Theyre so real it's terrifying. Fanny giving in to sexism. Boromir trying to take the ring. Jafar loosing sight of the golden rule.
Fanny would be a helpless woman on her own in a world designed for men. She could never have truly lived a life of independence, but her ideals did not need to change so drastically.
Boromir fought for the people of Gondor and genuinely wanted to see his people more than survive, but thrive. Of course being told you're superior to your brother would implant greed into his mind.
Jafar fighting his way to the top to make a change with the full support of the people only to discover the people in charge don't care. But then ge became someone with power and he still thought things were out of his control.
Youthful spirits turned cynics, who pay the price and must learn their wrongdoings through death/death like experience.
And they terrify me because it could so easily happen to me and they give me motivation to keep fighting for the things I belive in.
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pluviophi13 · 11 months
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“I don’t want to say goodbye ‘cause this one means forever….”
This is a prompt inspired by the song 'In the Stars' by Benson Boone
Masterlist
Narrator POV
As Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Y/N fight their way down the slopes towards the lake, they hear the echo of Boromir's horn.
"The horn of Gondor!" said Legolas.
"Boromir!" Aragorn shouted
"Oh God..." Y/N shuddered
The group runs down Amon Hen towards the sound, but Uruks stand between them and Boromir. Some run towards Boromir down the stone steps, while others attack Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Y/N as they struggle to follow.
Boromir sounds the horn of Gondor again.
"Run! Run!" Boromir ordered Merry and Pippin.
The Uruks attack Boromir, but he manages to kill two more. Suddenly, Lurtz appears, lifts his bow, aims a big black arrow, and shoots it into Boromir’s left shoulder.
"NOOOOOOO!" Y/N screams, eyes wide with shock and worry
The hobbits look at him in shock.
Boromir drops to his knees, breathes heavily, and looks at the hobbits and Y/N.
The Uruks draw closer, but the hero gives a battle cry, rises, and swings his sword at one of them, who falls.
Lurtz growls, lifts his bow, and shoots again. A black arrow flies into Boromir’s stomach.
The man drops to his knees, gasping. He swings his sword at another Uruk and manages to get back up. Lurtz shoots him once more, hitting him in the chest. Boromir falls to his knees and remains there, swaying slightly and blinking.
Merry and Pippin look at him, aghast. With all the courage they could muster, they take up their swords and attack the Uruk-Hai.
"Shire!!" Merry and Pippin cried in unison.
They never have the chance to strike.
The Uruk-hai lifted Merry and Pippin and carried them away as the hobbits waved their arms frantically. Meanwhile, the Uruk-hai troop walked away from Boromir, leaving him helpless to intervene.
Left alone, Lurtz stops ten feet from Boromir and takes aim with his bow. Boromir swallows and stares back at him. Just then, Aragorn crashes into Lurtz, causing his arrow to fly off harmlessly.
Lurtz and Aragorn fight. Aragorn loses his sword and is thrown to the ground; as he gets up, Lurtz throws his two-pronged shield at Aragorn, pinning him by the neck against a tree. Lurtz raises his sword and strikes, but Aragorn slips under the shield and dodges the blow. Aragorn draws a knife and stabs Lurtz in the leg. Lurtz roars. Lurtz then pulls the knife out and throws it at Aragorn, who has found his sword and uses it to strike the knife away. Aragorn closes in on Lurtz and in a flurry of swordplay slices off his arm and then stabs him in the chest. Lurtz pulls himself up on the sword and snarls at Aragorn. Aragorn grimaces, pulls his sword from Lurtz, swings it wide and hacks Lurtz's head off. The rest of Lurtz falls to the ground.
Aragorn pauses for a moment, panting. He then rushes over to Boromir, with Y/N following him. Boromir, pale and bloodied, is lying on his back near a tree.
"No!" Aragorn shouted, running up and kneeling beside Boromir.
"No..." Y/N trembling, kneeling beside the hero
"They took the little ones." Boromir muttered.
“Be still.” Aragorn ordered him
"Frodo, where is Frodo?" asked Boromir.
"I let Frodo go." Aragorn said
"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the ring from him." Boromir whispered.
"The Ring is beyond our reach now." Aragorn said softly.
"Forgive me, I did not see. I have failed you all." Boromir whispered.
"No, Boromir, you fought bravely. You have kept your honour." Y/N says as they reach out to pull the arrows from Boromir.
"Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness... and my city to ruin." Boromir argued
"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you that I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail!" Aragorn swore.
"Our people? Our people." Boromir smiled a little.
He reaches for his sword. Aragorn places the hilt in his hand, and Boromir clasps it to his chest.
Boromir turned his head as much as he could to look at Y/N.
"Y/N..." Boromir whispered
Y/N kept their head down, looking at their hands. They couldn't look at the hero for fear of collapsing on the spot.
"I've always loved you, Y/N. Ever since I first met you.
".....”
Y/N was silent for a moment until the weight of their emotions became too much to bear and they let it all out in a flood of tears. They had held on for so long, trying to be strong and keep it together, but now they couldn't hold back any longer. Tears streamed down their cheeks and they gasped for breath as the sobs shook their body.
"B-Boromir..." Y/N Stuttered
"It seems the time has come for me to bid farewell..." Boromir whispered
“I don’t want to say goodbye ‘cause this one means forever….”
"I'm sorry, my love..." whispered the hero.
He turned his head to face Aragorn once again.
“I would have followed you my brother….my captain….my king!” He said as he took his final breath.
Boromir was dead. Aragorn touches his forehead with his hand, then his lips in respect.
“Be at peace, son of Gondor.” He said as he bends down and kisses Boromir on the brow
Legolas and Gimli arrive on the scene. Legolas looks sadly at Aragorn, Boromir and Y/N. Gimli bows his head and turns away.
Aragorn rises. He walks over to Y/N and puts a hand on their shoulder.
"It's going to be all right," he whispered.
They looked up at him, tears streaming down their face. He held them close, his gentle touch and soothing words doing little to ease the pain in their heart. Yet there was something in his voice that made them want to believe him. Something in the way he spoke those simple words, "It's going to be all right," that made them feel like maybe, just maybe, there was hope.
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Can I have a fic where reader is depressed or upset and Boromir or Legolas just holds her while she cry's?
Here you go! Thank you for requesting again! <3333 I hope you like it!
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seawitchkaraoke · 2 years
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I'm always like "okay but what if character A who is deeply loyal to character B betrayed character B for some reason that is in character and really bad but also not bad enough to be unforgivable and then B found out and A was really sorry and B is angry but eventually forgives A" and then I can never think of a thing that it would actually make sense for A to betray B over and also I can't find any fanfic that gives me what I want bc either no one else even considers it a possibility that A would betray B or either A or B is actually dead in canon and the fix it fics focus on yknow, how they survived or bc the fanfics are all shippy and I'm like "no I don't mean betray as in cheat on I mean betray as in assassination attempt"
Except not an assassination attempt bc A would never want B dead so it has to be some convoluted "I joined the ppl who want to kill you so I could stop them from the inside and didn't tell you about it for some reason so it now really looks like I tried to kill you" kinda thing
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