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katetheworm · 4 months

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Naud Bui Amarth

Note: hi hi hi, welcome to another part in this lovely adventure with Cefrey and Aragorn. I was planning on adding a whole other scene to this but it would have made it very long and kinda unnecessary, so here we are! I hope you enjoy and please feel free to chat or send in asks! Also! A little while ago I commissioned another piece of Cefrey, go check it out!! Reblogs, likes, comments, etc are always welcome, but please remember reblogs >>> likes Other Sites: Ao3, Quotev Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader Warnings: none for this chapter Rating: T Words: 3748

Part Six (Masterlist)

The morning after Cefrey and Strider’s conversation was quite eventful. Elrond had summoned many people from all across Middle Earth to discuss the fate of the Ring, and, much to the mage’s surprise, she had been invited as well. Gandalf assured her that it should not have come as such a shock since she was there, protecting the Ring from falling into the hands of evil. And while Cefrey understood his train of thought, she still was not sure what to think of it. She was simply a human, yes she was a human with magical abilities, but she rarely spoke to others and… The mage sighed. Her mind was just trying to get her out of going to the meeting, a meeting which she had every right of attending.

Gathering herself, Cefrey rose out of bed and donned another dress that was gifted to her by the elves. This one was a two piece with an off-white chemise and a forest green cover, it had a corset like top and flowed down the sides and back of the chemise. Fixing her hair by pinning it on the sides with two beautiful elven clips, the mage took in a deep breath. This was a meeting to decide the fate of Middle Earth. Cefrey was not used to such grand undertakings, preferring solitude and the embrace of nature compared to civilization. But this was different, she decided, this was important beyond her regular comforts.

She finally moved to leave her room, glancing at herself in the mirror one last time before setting off to join the Council of Elrond.

The room where the council was to take place had many chairs surrounding a white pedestal in the center, most likely where the ring would be placed, as well as a larger chair at one end where Cefrey noticed Lord Elrond resided.

She walked up to him as she seemed to be the first one there. “Good morning, Lord Elrond.”

The elf’s countenance shifted from one of deep contemplation to one of soft care at the sight of the mage. “Good morning, dear Cefrey. I see that you are quite early to this meeting.”

Cefrey laughed. “Yes, well it is nicer to be early rather than late, don’t you think?”

Before Elrond could respond, more people funneled into the room, taking their respective seats. The mage bowed her head at the elf, leaving to take her seat as well. Much to her joy, Frodo had decided to sit between her and Gandalf. She smiled down at the quite anxious looking halfling, resting a hand on his shoulder to try and ease his nerves. He looked up at her, grateful for her support.

Once everyone had been seated–Cefrey caught the eye of Strider as he sat across from her–Elrond stood and began the meeting, “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have 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 fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom.” He glanced over at Frodo, nodding his head, “Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.”

The young hobbit hesitated a moment, gazing up at Cefrey and Gandalf who both gave him a firm movement of their heads, encouraging him to do as Elrond said. He stood and walked over to the plinth, carefully placing the Ring down on it before turning and going back to his seat.

Cefrey gave him a quiet look of consolation as he sat back down beside her. A tight feeling wound its way around her heart as her gaze moved away from the hobbit and towards the tiny piece of metal before her. It… it seemed as if it was trying to speak to her, attempting to twist her morals and her thoughts into more sinister and evil things. Furrowing her brows and inhaling a sharp breath of air, the mage pushed those thoughts away. Those thoughts of power and greed, of using her magic to make all in the land bend to her will. She was stronger than that, she would not let him win.

Thankfully her thoughts were interrupted as the man with dirty blond hair that Cefrey saw the other night stood and walked closer to the Ring, “In a dream,” He paused. “I saw the Eastern sky grow dark, in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, your doom is near at hand,” The man took another step closer to the Ring, Cefrey’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Isildur's bane is found.” Cefrey glanced over at Elrond, then at Gandalf as the man neared the Ring, his hand reaching out, “Isildur's Bane…”

“Boromir!” Elrond jumped to his feet, his voice filled with rage and fear at what the man might do.

Cefrey’s hands gripped tightly at her dress. The fear in the elf lord’s voice and the desperation in Boromir’s, scared her. This evil was stronger than she could ever have imagined. And she knew at that moment that this evil ring must be destroyed, lest it destroy them all. Before anyone could do anything–or perhaps before Boromir could continue his cursed train of thought–Gandalf stood quickly, the air around them growing dark and cold as he spoke.

“Ash nazg durbatuluk,” His deepened voice caused all around him to wince in pain, the man staggering back to his seat. “Ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.”

Sighing in relief once Gandalf finished and the light returned to the room, Cefrey looks at Gandalf, her brows furrowed, emotions running haywire. Lord Elrond then spoke the very words that were running through her mind, “Never before has anyone uttered words of that tongue here in Imladris.”

The talk continued as Gandalf warned the entire council of the Ring’s evil. Cefrey understood that none could wield it except for Sauron, but decided to not say anything… yet. Boromir disagreed. He believed it to be a gift, a tool to use to save Middle Earth, to protect Gondor from harm.

Cefrey had half a mind to stand up herself and tell Boromir how idiotic he was being, she instead tried a softer approach as she knew men like him, men that would not care to listen to others when they are so set in their ways. She sat up straighter then, her eyes locking with Strider’s once more as some unspoken words passed between them.

“None here can wield the Ring, my lord, not you, not I, none but Sauron.” Her voice held a conviction she had never experienced before, and yet it felt right to say such things to this man.

Boromir narrowed his eyes at her, unsure of what to fully make of this wandering mage, but still displeased at her outright argument towards him. “You are but a maiden, unaware of the hardships of life around you, why should I believe what you say?”

A certain ranger spoke up rather quickly to Cefrey’s defense and she could hear the annoyance in his tone, “Cefrey is right, Boromir, and I believe you know what she says to be true as well. You cannot wield it. None of us can.” Strider’s voice slowly lost its anger as the knight of Gondor turned from the mage to face him, a deep scowl on his face. “The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.”

Boromir scoffed at Strider’s remark, his glare intensifying. “And what would a ranger know of this matter?” His words reflecting what he had said to Cefrey just moments before.

The mage raised a brow at that. Yes, Strider was a ranger, but he was invited to the council just as Boromir was. Once again, Cefrey wanted to speak up but was interrupted as an elf – Legolas from the Woodland realm if she recalled correctly – stood abruptly.

“This is no mere ranger.” That was interesting, Cefrey thought. “He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.”

Cefrey’s eyes widened. Isildur’s heir? Heir to Gondor? That was who she had been traveling with, who she had grown close to, trusted with her life? Her green eyes landed on his gray ones, confusion and shock laced in them. It took him a minute to return her gaze, after he told Legolas to sit and Boromir’s disdain for the ranger only grew. His eyebrows were furrowed, a look of… guilt, or perhaps regret on his face. It was not Cefrey’s business to know exactly who he was, and she understood that, but then why did it hurt her so? She had not divulged all of her past to him and there was no reason for him to do so either. And yet she still felt saddened by the fact that she only found out his true name from someone else, at a time where neither could speak to each other about it.

Changing her expression to one where she hoped to convey that they would talk about it later, Cefrey's attention was then quickly switched over to the dwarf as he stood and smashed his axe onto the ring, only for his weapon to break rather than the Ring itself. Lord Elrond told Gimli then that there was only one way to destroy the Ring; by bringing it back to the very place it was forged. Mount Doom.

Boromir interrupted after that, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the great eye is ever watchful. Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this." He shook his head. "It is folly."

Soon practically everyone stood from their seats and began arguing. Cefrey’s eyes landed on Aragorn again, a thousand words passing between them as they listened to the commotion. The mage was surprised as even Gandalf joined the fray, her green eyes widening only to fall onto the quiet hobbit beside her, his voice barely being heard.

"I will take it."

Frodo glanced at the sorceress, his countenance filled with doubt. She gave him a sad yet reassuring look before squeezing his hand and nodding. It wasn't that Cefrey wanted the halfling to go on such a perilous quest, but she also knew that anyone else–including herself–would be too easily corrupted by the Ring's power.

Emboldened by Cefrey’s encouragement Frodo stood taller, his words rising over the din of voices around them. She noticed Gandalf’s resigned look then, as he heard the hobbit too.

“I will take it.” He took a step forward, hands clenched in a tight fist by his side. “I will take the Ring to Mordor.” The entirety of the hall stopped and stared at Frodo, looks of fear, suspicion, confusion, but mostly awe, all focused on the young halfling and his strong choice of words. Cefrey noticed his eyes go over each and every person who stood, staring at him, making his previous courage dwindle a bit before he spoke again, “Though, I do not know the way.”

A soft smile spread across the mage’s face as she stood as well, stepping forward until she was in front of the hobbit. Gandalf came up beside her, his eyes still conveying a deep sorrow, yet he did not convey it outwardly. The grey wizard spoke first, “I will help you bear this burden Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.”

On any normal day, under any normal circumstances, the mage would much rather have simply gone back into nature, enjoying her simple life. But these were not normal times, they were dark times, trying times, and she knew that she had to help anywhere she could. She already swore to protect this young hobbit and she would not back down now. Perhaps it was because she had grown to feel rather protective of Frodo, or perhaps there was something else drawing her to do so, either way, she knew she had to. Cefrey felt, in the deepest parts of her being, that this was what she must do, in spite of the dangers, of the hardships they will all face, the stark difference from her previous life to this, she will help him.

Kneeling down and taking his small hand in hers, Cefrey held Frodo’s gaze, a resolute look on her countenance. “I, too, will aid you on this quest, young Frodo, my magic is yours to wield.”

As soon as she began to speak, she heard a rustle behind her as Strider… as Aragorn stood as well, causing the sorceress to rise from her kneeling position and move to stand behind the halfling. Seemingly without even a conscious effort, Cefrey’s eyes landed on the ranger’s, and while his gaze was fixed on Frodo, for a brief moment it moved to her, an emotion behind his grey eyes that she could not understand.

“If by my life or death I can protect you, I will” Aragorn walked up to the hobbit while talking, kneeling before him as he spoke again, “You have my sword.” His words echoed the ones Cefrey had uttered before.

Legolas took a step forward as well, his countenance grim yet determined, “And you have my bow.”

Another came forward beside the elf, “And my axe,” said Gimli, son of Gloin.

“You carry the fate of us all, little one,” Boromir spoke and took a step forward. “If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done.” Despite his previous misgivings, the mage felt as though he would be crucial to their journey and deemed to hold no ill will towards the man.

Cefrey smiled at the group that was forming as a thought graced her mind; perhaps this quest did have a fighting chance–

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as out from the bushes came a shouting Samwise Gamgee as he ran up next to Frodo, “Mr. Frodo’s not going anywhere without me!”

With a glint of bemusement in his eyes, Lord Elrond shook his head at the headstrong hobbit, “No indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.”

“Wait!” Two more hobbits burst forth, completing the group of four halflings that Cefrey helped guide to Rivendell. “We’re coming too!” Exclaimed Merry, Pippin not far behind, much to the elven lord’s astoundment. “You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us.”

“Anyway,” Pippin spoke, with much conviction and confidence in his voice. “You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission… quest… thing.”

Merry shot him an unamused glance, “Well that rules you out, Pip.”

The mage chuckled at their antics before stepping in line beside Aragorn, and with the rest of their interesting group.

Elrond’s gaze wandered over each person standing beside Frodo, a faint, proud smile curling on his lips, “Ten companions…” He nodded resolutely. “So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!”

“Great!” The youngest hobbit spoke yet again, “Where are we going?”

The meeting having ended, the recently formed fellowship disbanded with their respective groups to gather their things, to say goodbyes, and to prepare for the upcoming journey. Cefrey was amongst those ten companions, a fact which continued to astound her. Her, a wandering mage of unknown origins, who spent most of her life simply living, especially after all that she had been through. A woman, in the end, a simple woman who lived longer than other women she knew, who aged differently because of what? Her magic? Some outside force? It couldn’t all have been fate that created her, that led to her having such a strange life.

The woman sighed heavily, those thoughts had been running rampant through her mind for the past few days as one strange occurrence after another continued to happen to her, around her, because of her. Cefrey rounded a corner, the trim of her dress brushing against the stone floor as she walked through the halls of Imladris. Her mind still going a mile a minute, the mage came to a stop as her eyes focused on a man just ahead of her. His back was turned slightly, but she could tell it was him almost immediately. Strider… well Aragorn as he should be referred to as now, stood a mere distance away, hands clasped tightly behind his back, from what she could see of his expression, it seemed contemplative, in a way. Perhaps he, too, was dealing with troublesome thoughts that refused to go away.

At the sight of the ranger, Cefrey was reminded of how his identity was rather abruptly thrown in her face at the meeting just hours before. They had not been able to speak about it since, each having their own duties and ministrations to attend to, but the desire to was definitely there. At least for Cefrey it was, she could not speak for what Aragorn thought.

Approaching Aragorn, the mage clasped her hands in front of her, a few ways of broaching the topic of his identity ran through her mind until she settled on one, “I wondered why you had looked upon those shards of that forgotten sword so despondently before, and now, I suppose, I know why.” Her tone was not one of displeasure or hurt, she did not hold his secrets against him. “The heir to Gondor, and here I thought I was merely traveling with a common man.”

The ranger sighed but did not seem displeased at her company nor her comment, simply resigned to it. “That sword and those titles carry a burden I am not sure I wish to bear.” His grey eyes lifted to look into her green ones, and Cefrey could see the pain and the guilt he felt, all because of men he was distantly related to. “How can I, a common man as you say, hope to repair the mistakes made so long ago, mistakes that are coming back to light, mistakes that I feel the need to help rectify.”

“Mistakes made by men you have never met, by men that are not you, Aragorn.” The mage furrowed her eyebrows, sympathy and kindness in her face and voice. She did not understand why he carried such guilt for things he did not do. “Do not let those who came before you dictate what you will do in the future. Your fate is in your hands to do with what you will.”

She wanted to say more, to say that she saw his kindness, courage, his empathy for others. That he could never be like his ancestors, that she knew, in her heart and soul, that he was better, and that he would change the world in such wondrous ways. But she felt that it was not her place to say such things, at least not yet. They knew each other for mere days, and she also believed that these were things he must figure out on his own, that he would not believe them yet as he has not said them to himself.

Aragorn huffed a quiet laugh, “You are wise beyond your years, Cefrey the Green.”

His comment held some underlying meaning to the mage, he took her words to heart, yes, but she did not think that he fully believed them yet. Perhaps they should switch to other topics, she thought, ones that were not so melancholy.

“Wise beyond my years, you say?” Her tone and body language shifted to a more playful disposition. “I suppose that depends on how old you think I am.”

At that, she saw the ranger’s expression change as well, he definitely knew that she was trying to switch the tone of their conversation, but he was also curious at what she meant by that. “Is this some trick to get me to stumble over trying to guess your age?”

Cefrey laughed openly at that, “I would never do such a thing, I would never make you guess a lady’s age in such a way, nor do I think you would get it right.”

“And why is that?” The ranger questioned.

“Because… I am seventy eight.”

Aragorn’s eyes widened slightly and it was not difficult to guess why. While the Dunedain aged slower than most men, and the mage was certain Aragorn was older than he appeared as well, she was most definitely not one of the Dunedain, which made her age peculiar, to say the least. However, somehow, due to her magic that flowed within her, she was also able to age much slower than others. There was not much else she could explain as to the reasonings or the science behind her aging other than her magic. She explained as such to the ranger and he took it rather easily–in spite of his earlier surprise.

Cefrey hummed, her eyes glancing at the scenery around them before landing on the man before her once more. “We both have held secrets from one another, ones that, I hope, have not ruined what trust we have formed between us.” She placed a hand on her chest, “I hold no ill will towards you for not revealing your true identity, we both have things we wish to keep close, and I respect that.”

Aragorn bowed his head towards her, a silent showing of that same respect he has for her. “You are much too kind, Cefrey the Green, and while your kindness is your virtue, I still feel as though I should have been the one to tell you who I am, not have it be revealed to you in such a manner.”

A small smile graced her freckled features, “And your chivalry and wisdom is your virtue… Aragorn.”

Saying his true name felt right to her for some reason unbeknownst to her. Cefrey bid farewell to the ranger then, unsure if their conversation should continue even though she wished it to. As much as she wanted to simply sit and talk to him, this man she met not days before, she knew that they did not have such time to do so. There was a darkness looming on the horizon, a darkness she was afraid would soon consume them all if they did nothing to stop it.

#lotr #kate writes #cefrey stormwind #aragorn x oc #aragorn x reader #naud bui amarth #i have most of the movies planned out #just have to find the motivation to write it tehe

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wildwren · 2 years

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Well, hello Rings of Power fandom folks! Some activity in the tag has got me thinking it might be time for a post such as this one. It’s certainly not new or groundbreaking information by any means, but I figured some ROP-specific content about fanfic, fanfic writers, and how to use AO3 might be helpful, seeing as we’re a new, burgeoning fandom about to go into a (very) long hiatus.

Looking for fanfics?

Archive of Our Own is usually the best place to look! Sometimes fanfic writers will post short fics as text posts on Tumblr, or they might make a post to link to the AO3 page for their fic, but if you’re only searching Tumblr for fanfics, you’re missing a huge amount of the creativity that’s being shared in this fandom!

As of the writing of this post (October 12th) there are over 200 fanfics in the Archive of Our Own Tag and more being added every day!

You can find them all HERE

Where can I read my “ship?”

Currently the largest “ship” tags for canon characters are:

Galadriel / Halbrand - 33 fics

Arondir / Bronwyn - 26 fics

Elrond & Durin - 16 fics

Elrond / Durin - 12 fics

*if you’re unfamiliar, the & modifier suggests a platonic, familiar, or non-romantic relationship, whereas the / distinguishes a relationship with romantic or sexual implications. Sometimes writers use both modifiers to express that they are writing about a relationship that straddles the line or changes throughout the course of the fic*

Where are all the Adar fics?

The tags for Adar/Original Character, Adar/Original Female Character, Adar/Reader, and Adar/You have not yet been wrangled (organized and codified by the volunteers at AO3), so it’s a little harder to see them all, but a cursory scroll through the general tag will demonstrate that there are *many* Adar fics.

You can also use the Adar character tag, which currently has 32 works. Not all of these will necessarily feature Adar as the main character or give you only Adar/OC fics, (Adar/Arondir is also a pairing with a handful of fics) but it’s easier to see your options this way.

What about reader-insert fics?

Reader-insert fics are a specific sub-genre of fanfics where the reader (usually expressed by use of the second person - you, your, you're, etc.) is written into a scenario with a canon character. Sometimes this is sexual, sometimes it's simply a moment of hurt/comfort or friendship. These fics are usually tagged Character/Reader, or sometimes Character/You. They might also be tagged as Character/OC, if the author is considering the "reader" to be an original character.

Not all fanfic authors write Reader insert fic. If you're thinking about requesting from a writer in the fandom, take a look at their existing work to see if this is something they specialize in. There are lots of great writers who specifically focus on "Imagines" or Reader inserts if that's what you're looking for.

How do I share my appreciation for writers?

Aw, thanks. It does really mean a lot to us to know that our work is being read and appreciated. If you want more content for your fandom/character/ship, etc. the best way to do that is to share a few words of appreciation for your favorite writers. Writing fanfic is a hobby, one that folks put a lot of time and love into, and it's always nice to know that their effort is being received.

Posting things like "where are all the X fics?" or "why won't anyone write this specific thing I want?" or "come ON, fic writers, you're SLEEPING on X" is definitely NOT a good way to motivate writers. Leaving a polite request in their ask box (if they are open to requests) is generally appreciated!

But the BEST way to motivate writers is to engage with their work.

Reblog their fic posts. Add a reblog or tags sharing how much you liked it.

Reply to their Tumblr fic posts (if they make them).

Go to AO3 and COMMENT on their fics. Kudos are lovely but the serotonin lives in the comments. It doesn't have to be anything fancy, here are a few ideas to get you going:

"I loved this so much! Thank you for writing!"

"This was my favorite line." [copy and paste favorite line]

"This part really reminded me of this specific character moment from the show."

"I read this twice, that's how much I enjoyed it!"

"Thank you for writing these underappreciated characters."

I think that's all for now!

Thank you for reading and sharing this post if you feel so moved. The fandom will probably continue to grow but also experience some dormancy in the season interim, especially as the hiatus drags on. Your favorite creators might spend time with other fandoms or ships while waiting for new canon content. I hope we can all keep pumping each other up, being respectful, and supporting creativity until Season 2 drops. And the best part is, if you want to see something in the fandom, YOU CAN CREATE IT YOURSELF!

Bless.

#the rings of power #rings of power #trop #rop #lotr the rings of power #lotr on prime #long post #fandom meta #fandom etiquette #fanfic #rings of power fanfic #rop fanfic #archive of our own

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caster-limbo · 2 years

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Tolkien purists and Celeborn

I am kinda tired of people bashing Rings of Power and trying to fallback to original stories and complaining about Celeborn despite him being a mere name in the original work. What is his role in the books? He did exist, and he existed precisely because back in the time when JRRT wrote his stories you can’t imagine a female leader without husband. He wasn’t a character, he was “Galadriel’s husband” and did not play huge role, because Galadriel herself was a support character in LOTR (the story was about Fellowship). Even the “about Celeborn and Galadriel” append was 99% about Galadriel.

And now purists pretend to like this non-character because they do not like that in the show Galadriel actually had chemistry with another character and obvious hints at romance in the latest series.

I personally think it always should be Celembrimbor x Galadriel in the Silmarillion, because it makes the most sense, he is actual interesting character with important plot and great craftsman. But since it is the show and not the Silmarillion, I can’t ignore that her plot line with Halbrand is great. (Regardless if he’s Sauron or not, I think he is not.)

And it would be a huge waste to say “it did matter not”.

And even if Halbrand did not exist, the idea to remove Celeborn was right because he adds nothing to the original story and is a manifestation of an outdated message that every woman must have a husband (even great warriors like Eowyn and wise queens like Galadriel and Melian).

Amazon, you should absolutely ignore every purist because they’ll complain about everything anyway. Like they did complain about Peter Jackson’s LOTR, which is most close adaptation possible, or “The Hobbit” trilogy. They’ll never be happy with any adaptation, and they do not deserve any consolation.

Just pretend Celeborn never existed and it would improve the story greatly. (Yes, Eldron’s wife did not matter too, she also just existed, and even flee to Valinor leaving Elrond alone when we met him in LOTR. He deserves better too.)

#rings_of_power #ringsofpower #tolkien #silmarillion #galadriel #celembrimbor #celeborn #celebornwho #the_hobbit

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wolfgangisdead · 2 years

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in the stars

part two

fandom tolkien (starts with rings of power)

pairing elrond x original female character

rating mature (general entire fic rating)

warning none

notes this was supposed to have smut but i gave up also @ghostscap here's the first part!

His hand rests against her thigh, holding her close to him as he reads aloud. She’s hardly listening now, with her head resting against his shoulder and half asleep. She’d come to his chambers because she could not sleep, and partly because she missed him. Always off writing speeches and delegating like the politician he is while she gets to sing at their celebrations, never quite getting the chance to celebrate with him. But here? Here it’s quiet.

Ninaelnith isn’t even sure what it is he’s reading, just that she crawled into his bed beside him, entwined her body with his and buried her face in his neck, intent on staying there until she managed to fall asleep until he suggested reading to her. She never even thought to ask what he was reading. When she lifts her head to look at the pages, it’s only some Elvish poet that she would deem unimportant and he would tell her so eloquently why their works matter.

“Meleth nîn,” he begins, almost questioningly like he hadn’t expected her to still be awake. “Are you alright?”

She hums quietly, returning her forehead to the crook of his neck. “Yes, I am alright. I just realized I never asked what you were reading.”

“That’s quite alright, Meleth nîn,” he muses keeping the book just out of reach as she lazily tries to reach for it. “You should rest. You have not been resting well enough. Gil-Galad would be quite disappointed if you were to fall asleep in the middle of a performance.”

The laugh that escapes her lips is light and airy. “You should be asleep, too, you know. What will the High King think if you’re too busy sleeping in the middle of a speech?”

“I’ll tell him you kept me awake.” He closes the book, setting it aside as he shifts to fully lay down, careful of the way her body is entwined with his. “You should see an artificer. I might not always be here to help you sleep.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, Elrond,” she says, tone matter of fact, “you write the stories and experience them, I shall turn them into song for all to hear.”

Elrond hums, amused, and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, Meleth nîn, there will be more time tomorrow.”

—

He was gone before she woke up and judging by how warm his side of the bed is, he hasn’t been gone for very long. The morning sun shines in from the window, casting the room in golden light. His room is gorgeous, neat and yet in some spots littered with papers and scrolls and books.

When she finally manages to pull herself from his bed, she drags herself across the room and to his desk, keeping one of the sheets wrapped firmly around her to fend off the early morning chill. She looks through the papers on his desk, some are meant for speeches that he ended up changing the script for while others are works of poetry that he reads to her. But something curious catches her eye. A paper poking out from underneath some books.

Carefully, she moves the books to the side, lifting the paper to get a better view of it. There on the paper, she’s greeted with a surprisingly accurate and vivid drawing of her. The breath is robbed from her lungs as she looks at a sketch of herself, drawn and signed by only her favorite elf to ever grace Middle-Earth. She’d have to bring this up with him later, but for now, she’d return to her room and dress for the day.

Ninaelnith changes into a dress where the bodice is bright golds, whites, and yellows while the sleeves, loose and puffy with a flowing cape behind her, are light turquoises and purples. Her hair, a deep brown, is braided down to her hip. Earrings of the brightest sapphire blue hang from her ears, crowned in gold. Lindon’s Beauty, the ward of High King Gil-Galad. She was nothing short of a beauty sent from the Gods.

Gil-Galad is the first to see her and he sends her an inquisitive glance. “You look exquisite today. Any particular reason?”

“None that concern you, Adar.” She replies sweetly, bowing her heard in respect. Though she’s no true daughter of the High King, he’s the only father she’s ever known since her parents were slain in the war. The only person who ever treated her as an equal after her loss. Save for Elrond, of course.

“It’s that Herald, isn’t it? Elrond? You two have grown awfully close over the years.” He clasps his hands behind his back, walking alongside her. “It is better to have a proper courtship between you two rather than this game of cat and mouse that you’ve been playing.”

“Adar,” she sighs, exasperated, “if it’s a courtship you want than fine, allow him to court me. Make him a lord, too, while you’re at it. He quite deserves such an honor with all the work he’s done for Lindon!”

He can’t hide the smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. “Your adoration for him is…. Admirable, Ninaelnith. But are you sure it is him you want? You could have the finest soldier in all of Lindon, yet you chose him.”

It wasn’t a well-kept secret that Gil-Galad and Elrond were friends, long before she came into the picture, but she’s only a few years younger than Elrond. And it wasn’t inherently her fault that they got along as well as they did.

“I like him, Adar. He’s very important to me and he’s kind. Not every well-meaning soldier is. And he writes poetry, I rather like poetry.” She tilts her head, smiling proudly like Elrond’s affinity with words was something far more monumental than knights who tended to the war, or soldiers well-meaning in their enthusiasm. “What point is there in knowing other men when he’s wonderful and I already know him?”

Gil-Galad sighs heavily, but he nods. “Very well, as long as you are content. I only wish for your happiness, Ninaelnith.”

Later, when the sun was at it’s highest peak, she finds Elrond in the meadow, sitting in the tree like usual. There’s a book in his lap that he’s scribbling in—perhaps another speech or piece of poetry, she’s not quite sure.

“You know, I think it’s better to ask your muse if you can draw her than leave her alone in your room to look at the mess on your desk.” She crosses her arms over her chest, eyeing him. “I missed you this morning. It doesn’t look good on you, having not properly courted me.”

There’s a playful smile on his face as he closes the book and beckons for her to come closer. “Why were you rummaging around my desk, Meleth nîn? Hoping to find any indication of my intent to wed you?”

‘Well, do you? Intend to wed me, I mean, otherwise I might just find myself another sweet, kind, adorable Elf who can write me poetry and etch my likeness into parchment.” She bats her eyelashes at him, teasing.

He reaches for her and pulls her against him. “In that case, Ninaelnith, Daughter of General Margorion, will you do me the highest honor by becoming my wife?”

Her heart sings and she smiles at him, lips pressing a flurry of kisses all over his face. “My Elrond, my sweet Elrond. Melethron nîn.”

A laugh escapes from Elrond’s lips during her onslaught of kisses and he lifts her chin, bringing his lips to hers in a deep kiss. His lips are warm against hers.

#elrond #trop elrond #rop elrond #rings of power #elrond x oc #romance #the hobbit #lord of the rings

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abnerkrill · 1 year

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one line, any fic

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

tagged by @firstelevens thank you! <3

tagging @aadmelioraa @wildwren @brynnmclean @elrondsscribe @misterghost @murraybaeman

crushed by the wheel and reshaped by the gear (elrond x adar)

Rare it was for Elves to come this way in these days, but much had fallen on this land that did not normally occur, and Elrond supposed they must already knew he had come here for the Southlanders.

surrendered at the start of the game (elendil x míriel x valandil)

She turns as he approaches, something glittering in her eyes, and he bows, relying entirely on instincts to keep him afloat. “Your majesty,” he murmurs, and keeps his head bowed even as he straightens back up.

where nature unmakes the boundary (elrond x durin)

“Oh, enough with the fancy words,” Durin scoffs, and Elrond’s heart lightens; things cannot be too terrible if Durin is still getting prickly in response to attempts at Elven diplomatic address. “For once in your life just say something simple, Elrond, simple and honest.”

take my hand, wreck my plans (eddie x steve x reader)

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he says after a long moment. “You are putting way too much blame on yourself.”

“Who else,” you say, words grating like nails on a chalkboard—you hate saying it out loud, especially to him, when you wanted so very badly to impress him. “Who else can I blame.”

He sits back, raises his eyebrows, and holds up his hand to count off. “Your shitty parents. Your shitty teachers. Your shitty friends. Your shitty boss and your shitty coworkers. And, yes, the fucking rest of the world. You said it yourself you never had any examples of a different kind of life. So everyone around you failed you because you should’ve had that.”

love should make you feel good (abner x reader)

For now you rest your head against his and tell yourself to breathe it all in and commit to memory how good it is. How lucky and happy you are. How every inhale and exhale is easy and gentle and good, and how you ask for nothing more than this—the space to exist quietly, you and your love, while a storm rages far away.

where does such tenderness come from (murdoc x reader)

So you try to brush it off and only occasionally indulge in snatches of daydream scenarios where he comes back to you, your name sweet on his lips, and tells you some great secret of his—something that could unravel his life like the secret of your name could unravel yours, equally sharp knives held at each other’s throats. Trust or blackmail—does it really matter which it is as long as the result is the same? You handed each other the knives willingly. Mutually assured destruction.

for all your suffering by night, you are not separate from me (druig x makkari x ikaris)

Makkari took a second before signing, You once left us too. Druig started to interrupt, but Makkari shushed him with a wave of her hand. I know it wasn’t the same situation. You had good reason. But do you remember how alone you felt at first? How terrible? Ikaris is lost. He will stay lost forever unless someone finds him.

let the sign given lead (elendil x original female character)

He cannot bear to look at the brand as it nears; instead he looks down at her. Her veil is translucent, but in the dark he cannot make out her features. The poker reaches close enough to burn the hair on his chest; he feels the heat on his skin, and clenches his teeth so he will not cry out.

At the very last moment before it makes contact she twists her wrist; only the straight edge meets his skin; he grunts but does not cry out, and she pulls back as he breathes heavily through his nose.

She drops the brand to the ground; it clatters on the stone. “It is a test,” she says softly, “and it is done. You have passed.”

you're all i taste [at night inside of my mouth] (kieren x simon)

Ever since coming back from the dead and everything that followed, ever since kissing Simon—not too far from right here, actually—the notion of candlelit dinners and starry-eyed promises is unappealing, not that they can eat real food anyway. Mostly he dreams of a simple, quiet life with someone he cares for. Doing no harm, only getting into the safest kinds of trouble. No grand gestures but the grand gesture of a small infinity together. No roses but the ones growing in a shared garden plot, maintained by the toil of two sets of hands.

look down on this city thinking (should i have loved you more) (abner x reader)

so where to begin? and how?

just that there is something like a miracle to it, and you know it deep in your gut and it burns you and it frees you: that there is a moment, there is a world, there is an infinity, where hell itself gives up its dead, where you stumble home across your own threshold after ten lost years, falling into the arms of the one you love who against all odds is still here, still here, still here.

#firstelevens #my fic

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bluewolven · 2 years

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Beyond the Shadow of Doubt (Read on AO3)

Summary:

The Dwarves told me their previous burglar didn’t work out. So they needed to hire a new one. Coincidentally, I needed money--a lot of it. But there's a part of me I kept hidden from the light of day, a part of me that not even the kindest of Dwarves will overlook. Yet every day I pressed my chances, because I would follow their King to the end of everything.

The Hobbit AU, Thorin Oakenshield x Female OC, First Person POV

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationship(s): Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Original Female Character(s), Thranduil (Tolkien), Gandalf | Mithrandir, Elrond Peredhel, Bard the Bowman, Thorin's Company, Fíli (Tolkien), Kíli (Tolkien), Balin (Tolkien), Dwalin (Tolkien), Bifur (Tolkien), Bofur (Tolkien), Bombur (Tolkien), Óin (Tolkien), Glóin (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien), Nori (Tolkien), Dori (Tolkien)

Additional tags: Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Thorin Is an Idiot, Character(s) of Color, Romance, Angst, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Implied Kíli/Tauriel, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

Chapters 1-3 are now live!

#bluewolven ao3 #the hobbit #lotr #thorin oakenshield #trevadril shadesulk #thorin x oc #ao3 #original character #art and whatnot to be added later

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ao3feed-thehobbit · 2 years

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Beyond the Shadow of Doubt

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dEy3Kkv

by bluewolven

The Hobbit AU, Thorin Oakenshield x Female OC, First Person POV

Words: 11184, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Thorin Oakenshield/Trevadril (oc)

Fandoms: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Thorin Is an Idiot, Character(s) of Color, Romance, Angst, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Implied Kíli/Tauriel

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dEy3Kkv

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the hobbit

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ao3feed-tolkien · 1 year

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The Warrior Who Waited

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4yRY9Mq

by Sparks_0156

Andreth joins the company on their adventure to reclaim Erebor. Along the way, she meets old friends, past regrets, and new friendships. Patience come naturally to Andreth, seeing as it's literally her name, but after centuries of war and death, she needs her best friend back, her foundation. Will this quest bring them together or tear the little connection they have left?

Thranduil x oc

Words: 1770, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Orc(s), Original Elf Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Gandalf | Mithrandir, Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield, Elrond Peredhel, Bofur (Tolkien), Bombur (Tolkien), Nori (Tolkien), Legolas Greenleaf, Smaug (Tolkien)

Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: First Time, Slow Burn, Elves, Hobbits, Trolls, Background Relationships, Angst, Aunt-Niece Relationship, Brother-Sister Relationships, Asshole Thranduil, Young Thranduil, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Bisexual Female Character, Scars, Author Commentary

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4yRY9Mq

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

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ao3feed-barduil · 1 year

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Worthy of Love

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/GscQ9rn

by the_lady_lillie

Legolas x fem!oc

The One Ring has been found, and the fate of Middle-Earth rests in the unsteady hands of two small hobbits. Accompanying them is an assorted cast of nervous heroes - a wizard, the Pride of Gondor, a dwarf, an immortal prince, two young cousins, and the heir to a long-forgotten throne.

Elowynn, adopted daughter of the wise Lord Elrond, goes with them, privately sworn to protect her close friend, Aragorn, with her life. And surrendering one’s life becomes far easier when they have already become acquainted with death.

Words: 204, Chapters: 1/32, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Legolas Greenleaf, Aragorn | Estel, Elrond Peredhel, Lindir (Tolkien), Arwen Undómiel, Éowyn (Tolkien), Eom, Gimli (Son of Glóin), The Lord of the Rings Ensemble

Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s), Elrond Peredhel/Lindir, Bard the Bowman/Thranduil

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Abusive Parents, Eating Disorders, Suicide Attempt, Psychological Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Depression

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/GscQ9rn

#the hobbit #barduil #fic #ao3 #bardxthranduil #thranduilxbard

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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 1 year

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Hidden Realm

Chapter 2: Midsommer

Summary: Lord Elrond and his escorts meet Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn at Mirkwood for the festival. But are they prepared for a once in a life time party?

Chapter found here.

Chapter 3

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@multifanworld

@blackgaladriel

@liadamerondjarin

Elrond

@theyeetedsoul

@awkwardjustexists

@cauliflowertree

LoTR

@themerriweathermage

Hidden Realm

#The Hidden Realm #hidden realm #the hobbit #lord of the rings #LOTR #The Lord of the Rings #lord elrond #elrond #elrond x original female character #original female character #canon divergence

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thewarriorandtheking · 2 years

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Mistakes

A bit of The Warrior and The King hair-braiding fluff...

for @fellowshipofthefics March Madness

Characters: Thorin x female oc

Warnings: None

**********************************************

“That was not the first of your mistakes.”

“And what was the first, great king?” Kaylea looked back over her shoulder. Thorin laughed and gently straightened her head, running his comb through her hair a few more times before setting it down. She loved the feel of his hands in her hair, separating and braiding, almost in the same movement. There was a thrilling, quiet intimacy to it that was hard to explain.

“When you let me braid your hair, that day at the river,” Thorin told her. “I did warn you it meant there was an understanding between us.”

Kaylea smiled. She fingered the beads that had started the conversation, the ones he had given her shortly after they met. Mithril, decorated with many runes. After all these years, they were still her favorites. She remembered asking him at the time if it meant they were married. “I knew hair-braiding was important to your people, but clearly I didn’t understand all the intricacies. I had the feeling you were up to something.”

“You let me touch your hair, that was your undoing! You had already accepted the favors I offered, letting me braid your hair was as good as announcing we were to be married.”

“I don’t think that is entirely true,” she chuckled. “Lord Elrond would certainly have mentioned it when I wore your beads to dinner.”

“Elves don’t care to know our customs,” Thorin scoffed. “He probably thought you had taken leave of your senses.”

They laughed together. “I’m sure he did,” Kaylea said. “You know, there is something I have wanted to ask you.”

“And what is that, my love?”

“I remember getting many knowing looks in Erebor after you gave me your braids. Why is it that your wife never wore them?”

Thorin did not answer at once. He finished the two intertwined braids along her temples and began joining them together at the back. “Customs differ, even among the families. Shurri’s family originally came from Belegost, where they don’t follow the tradition. Anyway, if two people wear the same braids it doesn’t mean they are married, though they are used that way sometimes. It is a way of saying you will have no other.” He held his hand out for the beads.

“So, you were putting words in my mouth.”

“Aha! So, there was someone else you fancied?” He leaned forward to smile slyly at her. “An Elf, perhaps?”

“Don’t make me get up and slap you. You know very well there was no one else.”

“I believed you, though I will admit to a tiny doubt,” Thorin chuckled. “Of course, the idea was to let everyone know we would one day be married. But also, you had told me of your plans to leave Middle Earth. I wanted a part of myself to go with you, to remind you of your promise to come back to me.”

“And it worked. Every time I touched them, I thought of you. I felt guilty I had not left you something more personal.”

“Ah, but you did! You gave me your flask when we parted for the first time, at the river…”

“Hardly a meaningful gift!” Kaylea exclaimed.

“Not by itself. But it was wrapped in a scarf, you may remember, and caught in the knot were several of your hairs.” Thorin finished attaching the last bead, he swept her hair aside to kiss her neck. She turned to face him, brows furrowed in curiosity. For answer, he took out the pendant he wore on a fine silver chain. She had often admired it; a small cylinder, adorned with intricate designs and tiny gems, almost jewel-like in its beauty. Thorin gently twisted it and the carvings parted to reveal her golden hairs suspended in crystal. “I keep them with me always.”

Kaylea shook her head. “You have been wearing that all this time and never said a thing! You never stop surprising me!”

“Then I am glad. I don’t want to make the mistake of being predictable,” he closed the cylinder and tucked it away. “Now, let us get ready for dinner. Will you wear your red dress, and that necklace with the tiny rubies?”

“Of course,” she could not have refused those puppy-dog eyes, even if she wanted to. “I must not make the mistake of disappointing my King.”

#thorin oakenshield #thorin fanfic #thorin x oc #thewarriorandtheking #original female character #thorin fluff #fotfics #fotficsmarchmadness

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katetheworm · 3 years

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Naud Bui Amarth

Note: My buffer of three chapters is dwindling to one and a half now, but that's okay. I really just wanted to update this because I feel like it. Anyway, thank you for reading, and comments, reblogs, etc are more than welcome! (This is not proofread btw)

Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader

Warnings: None

Rating: G

Words: 3,057

Part Three (Part One : Part Two : Part Four ; Part Five)

The next day consisted of mostly walking and only resting at nightfall. The hobbits, especially Pippin, were very distraught at this fact, having been raised on many more meals throughout the day other than breakfast and dinner. Cefrey could not blame the young lads as she also found herself craving another meal after many hours of hiking up and down hills, across streams, and through dense woods.

They were trekking up one of those hills when Cefrey decided to finally ask what was on everyone’s minds. No one had asked before as they were all preoccupied with getting as far away from the Nazgul as possible.

She moved a little faster to catch up to Strider -- he truly lived up to the name, his legs were long and his resolve unwavering when it came to covering as much ground as they could. “So, where exactly are you taking us?”

“Into the wild.” Was his only answer.

She could have guessed that his response would be something as vague as that, and yet she still felt her eyes roll at his comment. Without changing her pace, Cefrey stayed walking next to the ranger, intent on figuring out what his plan was.

“You could at least specify a bit more than that, Strider.�� The way she spoke his name was one of suspicion and speculation that his true name was more than the title the townsfolk gifted him.

The ranger lifted a brow at her statement, her words and attitude amusing him. “Well, if you truly must know, we are going to Rivendell, land of the elves.”

As Cefrey smiled the hobbits behind her began whispering quite loudly. Sam was very excited to go see the elves while the others were still a little wary of the true meaning their guide held. The mage was fairly happy to learn they were going to Rivendell. It was, in fact, one of her favorite places to visit, and she would at every chance she got. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t very many. Cefrey was indeed quite busy most of the time. At least, busy in her terms.

The sun began to set more and the ranger knew it was time to settle down for the night. He told the hobbits to make camp and rest under the large trees surrounding them while he kept watch. Cefrey helped her companions settle down and watched them fondly as they fell asleep after eating. She had grown to care for the four halflings quite a bit after the short time she spent with them. They reminded the sorceress of herself in some ways. So carefree and quaint, and yet they were able to carry such a burden without so much of a single complaint.

Strider had noticed the woman’s sudden perk up when he mentioned the elven city and wondered if she was more than she appeared. He knew that she was unlike the race of men, but what exactly made her that way?

“Miss Cefrey, have you been to Rivendell before?”

Her smile widened even more at the question. However, that action made her confused. She hated being asked questions, so why was she so keen on answering his? She shook off that thought and chose to indulge the man beside her.

“Yes, I have been to Rivendell, on many occasions, actually. It’s quite the wondrous place to be. So many books to read!” She twirled on her feet, a few stray locks of dark golden hair swaying in the wind before she sat down next to the ranger on a small boulder, her green eyes sparkling both with joy and the moon’s light.

She sighed longingly, thinking about the many hours, sometimes even days, she would spend in the libraries of Lord Elrond. Her expression saddened. She had not visited the elves there in many years. Her days had been occupied by many things. Though, now that she thought about it, what had she been doing during those years? Collecting herbs and flowers, experimenting with her powers, writing and reading any and every book she found. She hadn’t led a very eventful life. At least, before this little adventure she was a part of.

The ranger watched her as she pondered, lost in her own thoughts. He realized he knew nothing about her. And yet he felt as if he had known her for years. He knew there was no spell on him, he had no disease. So why did his heart ache whenever he looked into her eyes. Why did he feel so strange when she sat close to him, their body heat mixing, making his eyes linger on her form when she wasn’t looking at him. He had never felt this way about anyone except… No, not even with her. This was different. He had known the mage for not even two days, though his heart and mind thought otherwise.

“Strider?”

Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and her question snapped the blonde out of hers.

She waited for no response from the ranger, having realized he rarely spoke unless completely necessary. “I realize now that you are speaking the truth when you say you are a friend of Gandalf’s…” Cefrey stared up at the bright moon, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “It was odd. When we first met in the inn, I wanted to believe you were untrustworthy. That you were not truly there to help us, help Frodo… but I couldn’t. It was almost as if…” She trailed off, realizing that she was rambling and laughed a bit at her words. “Oh, don’t mind me, ranger,” She patted his shoulder before standing up, gazing into the darkness of the trees. “I will be back by sunrise. Don’t leave without me!” She called over her shoulder, walking into the blackened woods.

The ranger narrowed his eyes at the fading silhouette of the sorceress, unsure of whether or not he should stop her or at least go with her. He shook his head, his gaze turning to the four hobbits sleeping restlessly behind him. He couldn’t leave them unprotected. Cefrey was more than capable of handling herself. Strider chuckled at that thought. Of course she was. She was mistaken as a wizard by many folk so she had to have been at least powerful enough to protect herself.

He sighed and stared up at the moon, wondering what she was thinking when she looked up at that bright light…

… Cefrey didn’t actually have to go anywhere, she really just wanted to get away from the ranger for a bit. He made her… feel things. Things she didn’t know how to describe, much less deal with when she was sitting right next to him, their shoulders brushing every so often. Her face heated up at the memory of being so close to him. And that was why she had to get away.

The forest at this time of night was almost like a completely different place than in the daytime. It was beautiful still, of course, but its beauty was that of mystery and darkness, while in the sunlight, it was calming and warm. The mage wandered through the woods, the streaks of moonlight illuminating her path. She knew not where she was going, just that she was. The journey is not about the destination, after all.

As she meandered through the forest, her thoughts also took a short stroll. Although they always landed back on the ranger. She didn’t know what to think of him. Was he someone she could grow close to? She hadn’t many friends, other than Gandalf, and maybe the four hobbits in her care. Though she still didn’t feel such a connection to them as she did with Strider. And she had known the halflings longer, and she had dealt with the Nazgul with them. It all didn’t make much sense to her.

Cefrey happened upon a small pond with a waterfall pouring into it. The air around the water was more humid than the rest of the woods as water sprayed into the air. The dull roar of the fall added to the ambiance of the wind and forest creatures around the blonde. She smiled softly at the scene before her. The calming nature of the pond and the sounds around her making her relax immensely.

Her thoughts drifted around in her mind as she sat on the grass next to the pond. Closing her eyes, the mage listened to the music of the wild; the bugs, the birds, the gurgling of water, it all added to the harmony surrounding her. Cefrey laid her head down on the soft grass, the sounds soon lulling her to sleep.

As the sun peeked over the hills and shone through the many trees, its light rested on a certain mage, resting peacefully near a small pond. Her eyes fluttered open, the sleep slowly removing itself from her body. Sitting up, Cefrey yawned loudly and brushed off the dirt and grass that clung to her clothes and skin. She noticed the rising sun and her eyes widened, her previous exhaustion leaving completely. She had to get back to the hobbits and… and Strider.

Stretching as she stood, the blonde recalled her trek through the woods and took the path back to the camp. She picked a few flowers and herbs along the way that she thought would be useful and stuck some into her belt, the flowers in her hair. Once she made it back to the camp, her companions were already packed and ready to go; the hobbits waited around the small horse while Strider was waiting at the edge of the woods, the way she had left during the night.

His eyes widened subtly, and if she hadn’t been looking, she wouldn’t have noticed it. The ranger took in her appearance, the disheveled dark blonde hair, tied into a low bun, with wild flowers peeking out the back and front, along with the just-woken-up blush on her freckled cheeks.

Cefrey smiled at the ranger, a kind, quaint smile, one that reminded him of a cool spring day, laden with pink flowers out the window. He turned his head, staring out into the distance towards their path.

“We must continue on.”

The mage agreed with his statement, nodding her head, and ushered the hobbits to walk ahead of her, albeit disappointed that the ranger passed over her appearance without so much of a comment or even one of his tiny smiles. Why was she so hellbent on getting him to like her?

Hiking a couple feet behind the halflings, Cefrey tried to collect her thoughts. She never realized until now that being with other people -- even if she rarely spoke to them -- made the time go by way more slowly than when she was alone. She thought it would be faster, but somehow walking next to these four hobbits, talking to Strider, thinking about Strider. It all made her days pass by in a much slower state. It was almost as if when she was by herself, she wouldn't think about the time passing, she would just do random things. Granted, those things did make her happy… they just seemed monotonous compared to the things she had done with Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin… with Strider.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, they continued on, past the forest after another night there and into windswept moors. Patches of moss green vegetation littered the snow-covered ground. Sam led the pony who was packed with their supplies while the three other hobbits walked behind him, Strider taking the front a few feet ahead.

Cefrey was too preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn’t really pay attention to what the others were doing. That is, until she was hit in the head with an apple. She cursed under her breath as the pain bloomed on her forehead, stopping to place her hand over it. She hadn’t noticed that she had walked in front of the hobbits and received a good bonk to the head as Strider was trying to make a point to Pippin.

Said ranger turned after he heard the mage curse and a frown made its way to his face. “I, uh. Sorry, Cefrey, didn’t know you were there.”

“Yeah, neither did I, apparently,” She retorted with amusement in her voice. She noticed the dour expression on Strider and shook her head, rubbing the spot where the apple hit. “Don’t worry, I’ve endured worse.”

The man still felt guilty for hitting the poor sorceress, but knew that they had to keep going if they were going to get to Rivendell at a reasonable time. Strider was aiming for the hobbit, he was trying to hit him in the head. So why did he feel so bad for hitting her? He chalked it up to be some chivalry that was buried under the layers of the dark exterior he put up.

She smiled at the ranger again, trying to dissuade his obvious guilt. She didn’t want him to feel bad. She wanted him to be happy… with her. No. Not with her. He probably prefers to be alone. There was no way he would want to be with her, happy or not.

She sighed and continued walking.

They camped in the moor for the next two nights and went on once the sun rose each day. Cefrey slept well those nights, under the stars, even as the snow dampened her clothes and made her shiver. She would have been colder than she actually was, but during the darkness someone draped a black cloak over her form, keeping the iciness at bay. Though when she woke, the cloak was gone, taken off before she rose from sleep and clasped back over the shoulders of the ranger. She never even noticed it was there.

They trekked through the rest of the moor for the beginning half of the day, soon walking into a wet marshland, bugs flying everywhere, and water soaking their clothes. The hobbits swatted the insects away, complaining the entire time they marched through the swamp. A few of them fell into the water, more than once, and each time, Cefrey would help them up, offering what she could in sympathy, as the midges and water annoyed her too.

It seemed that the sun set faster on that day, forcing the group to make a small camp sooner than they would like. At least, than what Strider and the mage would have liked, the halflings were more than happy to take a break, their legs sore from trying to keep up with their much taller companions.

The ranger went out to hunt, their food source had dwindled as the days passed. And, Cefrey amused that he also just wanted to be away for a moment, catch his breath, be alone. She understood that. More than she would care to admit, in all honesty. She may have preferred to stay isolated most of her years, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t enjoyed the time spent with people. In fact, the time she had spent with the four hobbits and Strider was some of the happier moments she could remember.

Starting a small fire by gathering a few logs and simply sparking it with her fingers, the mage waited silently on her bedroll, listening to the conversation the hobbits exchanged. Sometimes she would feel pity for the four of them. They were thrust into a situation entirely out of their control and utterly different than what they were all used to. Frodo definitely had the adventure spirit in him, just as his uncle. But the others? Merry and Pippin were there for the ride, while Sam… Poor, kind Sam, was always watching over Frodo, making sure he kept his promise to Gandalf. He might have dreamed of seeing the elves, but once they got to Rivendell, Cefrey was sure he would want to go straight back home, to his garden and his hobbit hole. And she couldn’t blame him, not one bit.

Strider came back after an hour or so, bringing with him a small deer that was hauled over his shoulder. They ate the venison, grateful for a full belly after many days with meager portions. Cefrey couldn’t deny that his kill was extremely filling, making her all the more glad the strange ranger accompanied them on their journey. There was no way she could have killed that animal. Both out of sadness and simply a lack of skill.

Soon after, with filled bellies and tired bodies, the hobbits fell asleep, the smoke of the fire keeping most of the bugs at bay. Cefrey, on the other hand, could not sleep. Her mind was racing, her thoughts jumping from one to another. Until she heard a faint singing.

Not wanting to disturb the soft tune, the blonde slowly rose from her blanket, her eyes adjusting to the darkness rather quickly. A smile tugged at her lips as she saw who was singing. Strider, always keeping watch, sat on a log, pipe in hand while he sang quite a forlorn melody.

“Tin viel elvanui,

Elleth alfirin ethelhael

O hon ring finnil fuinui…”

Before she could stop herself, another part of the song slipped from her mouth, “A renc gelebrin thiliol.”

The ranger turned his head slightly, not expecting another to know what he sang of. “You know of the Song of Beren and Lúthien?” Not needing an answer, Strider shook his head amusedly. “Of course. Someone as well-versed as you would know of many elvish hymns.”

Cefrey stood up from her resting spot, bringing the blanket with her, and sat down beside the guide, laying the piece of cloth over her legs. “Yes, and while you seem to know so much of my knowledge, I did not expect you to know these elvish tunes. And not only that, you sing them well, in perfect Sindarin.”

“We Dunedain are not uncivilized, my friend.”

She sighed, “I did not mean to offend, merely…” Stopping, she noticed his tone of voice. “You were teasing me?”

Without needing to answer, the ranger laughed lightly, the mage playfully hit his arm. They stayed up the rest of the night, keeping watch both on the hobbits, and on the bright stars.

#lord of the rings #aragorn x reader #aragorn x oc #original female character #aragorn #aragorn love story #fluff #naud bui amarth #part three #kate writes

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lotrfics · 4 years

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ARAGORN X FEMALE HUMAN READER: “Your past does not define you.”

Requested: No, but ya gal was hella inspired.

SPOILERS FOR THE SILMARILLION/THE CHILDREN OF HURIN BELOW! ONLY HIT KEEP READING IF YOU EITHER:

HAVE READ THE SILMARILLION/THE CHILDREN OF HURIN

DO NOT CARE AT ALL AND JUST WANT TO READ THIS

A/N: Reader is HEAVILY based on Turin Turambar, that’s why you have an OP sword and a somewhat tragic past. There are some changes though, Beleg, who was sadly unintentionally killed by Turin, doesn’t exist here. A character based on Nienor doesn’t exist here, so you won’t get involved in incest, don’t worry. Sorry for the lack of originality.

This is a female reader, I’m really sorry to any male readers out there, but I find that I relate to Turin personality wise, so I just inserted myself in this. Still, anyone can read this if you wish, gender and race is just specified.

This is a favorite of mine, so I hope you feel the same, or at least enjoy reading this. I’ve been having writer’s block for days now.

Everywhere you went, danger followed.

It was a complete surprise to you when after weeks being in the Fellowship, you still haven’t done any harm to them, intentional or not. If anyone knew who you truly were, then they have certainly heard of your deeds, both great and evil.

During the council, you were the third to join, assuring Frodo he has your sword. The sword you wielded served you well ever since you kept it in your possession. It was a unique sword, not like the others, not even Narsil, which was almost nothing more than an ordinary sword, or in the words of Boromir, a broken blade, if you come to think of it, could compete.

The sword of yours has done amazing and terrible things. It was a black sword that could cut through iron, glowed at the most random times, it really stood out whenever you unsheathed it. It also spoke when needed, which terrified you at first, but you dealt with it, luckily the sword only spoke to you whenever everyone else was asleep or you were alone.

You saw joining the Fellowship as a good chance to possibly redeem yourself and run away from the past. However, after arriving in Lothlorien, Galadriel looked into your eyes and forced you to relive all of your horrible deeds. You had realized you could not ignore your past, no matter how much you desperately wanted to, but you wanted to abandon it, to prove that you are no longer the unbearable impulsive person you once were.

Those memories were what kept you up at night. And if you were able to get some sleep, it was filled with nightmares that only repeated what happened during that fateful day.

One particular night, you refused to sleep, blankly staring down at the glowing black sword of yours. It was not always yours, it once belonged to your brother then it eventually came to you.

It was the same sword that claimed your brother’s life.

Your younger brother that you swore to protect with your own life. Ever since your home was overrun by orcs, your father was captured and killed. Your mother sent you far away from home, promising she would follow, but she never came, that was the last time you had seen her.

As the oldest, and with no one else around, you took it upon yourself to take care of yourselves, putting your brother first, always saving his life and even risking your life when necessary. You defended him from anyone who dared to cross him, to the point that your devotion cost someone’s life.

From a distance, Aragorn stood, keenly watching you. In your stoic expression, he noticed a faint hint of sorrow. Wanting to comfort you, he made his way to you.

“What troubles your mind?” Aragorn sat beside you, interrupting your thoughts, making you glance at him. “You are barely getting any sleep. Something is keeping you up.” He was trying to make sure he wasn’t pressuring you into telling him in case it was personal.

You shook your head at him. “It’s nothing.” But he saw right through you. The slight shaking of your hands that suddenly gripped tightly on your sword, it betrayed you. He correctly deduced that the sword had to do with it, but he wasn’t sure what about it could make you so upset.

“That sword of yours, it is more than just a black sword. It holds malice in it, does it not?” Aragorn asked. All his assumptions were correct. He could rarely be fooled, not even you, the most closed off person in the Fellowship, could hide secrets from him for long.

Maybe letting out all of your feelings and opening up to someone was actually what you needed to do all along. You couldn’t keep everything a secret anymore, you have been desperately wanting to tell someone, but you were afraid of the backlash you would get for everything you have done, that was the last thing you needed at the moment.

“This sword does have malice in it. It was forged by a Dark Elf long ago. You may or may not believe me, but I am not lying by telling you, this sword speaks to me occasionally.” Much to your relief, you noticed Aragorn was listening word by word.

“This sword was not always black, nor was it always mine. It belonged to my brother once. It was passed down to me when he died.”

Aragorn saw the expression of yours drastically change as you spoke of your brother, and he thought he shouldn’t have brought it up, it was getting personal already. “There is no need to tell me if-”

But you interrupted him. “I know I don’t have to tell you, but I want to. I can’t keep this to myself, I have been shutting everyone out who has been asking me my own past or the history of this sword I now own. And you are the only one that is willing to listen.” Aragorn nodded as you sighed, preparing yourself to confess every evil deed you have brought upon either yourself or others.

“When I was 9 years old, my father had been captured by orcs and tortured to death. We knew instantly, because when we slept that night, all of us had seen what happened in our dreams. I suppose my mother figured out the orcs were making their way to our home, maybe to end our bloodline, as she sent me and my brother away. That was the last time I ever saw her. She told us she would follow us, but she never came.”

“Ever since, I swore to myself to protect my brother from absolutely any harm that could get in our way. He was younger than I am, he couldn’t take care of himself as well back then. It only grew when years passed, I was still as protective of him as I was the day I took on the responsibility to care for him.”

“Little things such as mockery were not tolerated by me. I had a temper then, which I eventually learned to control, but I used to have a difficult time handling it. One day, an elf had compared my brother and I, who were humans, to animals. I saw in the eyes of my brother how hurt he was, in a rage, I threw a glass right at the elf, and injured him. My brother and I left as quickly as we could before the elf could do anything else.”

“The next day, while I was alone in the woods, the elf had attempted to ambush me. But I was faster than he could ever wish to be, and I caught him. My anger from the previous day had not fully diminished, so I thought it would be a great idea to humiliate him by stripping him off of his clothes. I had threatened him, and in embarrassment, he fled, unaware of his senses, he ran all the way to the edge of the cliff, then fell to his death.”

“That was when I began to realize how much of a monster I really was. I ran far away, not letting anyone know where I went, so I was deemed missing by those who knew me. But I had gone to a place filled with orcs, and fell right into a trap. I was ambushed and badly wounded, and bound me to leave me to my death. I had fallen unconscious from my injuries.”

“My brother traveled far to look for me. He’s not ready to lose his sister, his only family left. It took a while, but he did eventually find me. He tried to untie with his own hands, but saw that the orcs tied the ropes too tight, so he used his sword to remove the bounds.”

“Unfortunately, the sword slipped off his hands and cut my flesh. I awoke in an instant, but my vision was poor at that moment, I felt a presence right by me. I thought it was orcs executing me, so in an instant, I grabbed something closest to me, the sword that cut me, then swung at whoever was right in front of me. I heard the figure fall to the floor, so I knew it was dead.”

“I rubbed my eyes after that, then my vision became clear. I looked at the ground trying to see the orc, but to my horror, it was not an orc at all. It was my brother, who was trying to save me, and I murdered him in response. I noticed the sword was feeling weird, so I looked at it only to see it gradually turning black, as its previous owner had just been slain by the sword. I remember crawling over to his body and holding him close to me, mumbling broken apologies, begging him to come back, but all of it was useless. He was dead, nothing could change that.”

“I buried him myself, in a more peaceful place somewhere. I was defenseless, my own sword had broken when I was ambushed by the orcs, so I took my brother’s sword for myself. It was too powerful to be left without an owner. Just owning it reminds me of what I had done, I don’t want to think about it because I carried a heavy guilt, it was my biggest regret, my worst mistake.”

Not bearing to look at the sword, you let go of the sword, allowing it to fall to the floor, making a loud noise that would’ve woke everyone up had they been in the place where you and Aragorn were. You broke down, not caring if anyone else was watching, you were grieving over the death of your brother, which you haven’t done in a long time. You were covering your face with your hand as tears ran down, then you looked down in shame.

Aragorn was stunned. He felt ridiculous because he related to you when it came to hiding from something, but the reasons were different. He was running away from his lineage, trying to ensure he would never have to rule Gondor as the king, something Elrond used to reprimand him for. His relation to Isildur made him very hesitant, he knew very well what his ancestor had done, failing to destroy the One Ring when he got the chance.

But you? You were going through something completely different. You were running away from your past. You were a different person then, you knew very well the Fellowship wouldn’t like you at all if you never tried to change into a better person. You had led someone to their death, and even committed kinslaying.

His own story was absolutely nothing compared to yours. He had never committed anything as terrible as you have, fearing his own bloodline seemed like a joke.

You felt a hand land softly on your shoulder. Slowly, you pulled your hand away and looked up at Aragorn. You were expecting to be judged by him, but instead, you saw his face was full of pity. Your jaw dropped, it was not the reaction you were expecting at all, however, you appreciated it as he was listening to everything and remained calm to the end.

“I do not think you are a monster,” said Aragorn, “you may have done horrible things, but you are genuinely trying to become a better person. That is more than enough, and your attempts are working, you are a different person than you once were, you have changed for the better. But your dark thoughts are what makes you think different.”

“I was horrible then, and I still have the potential to be during this journey,” you said looking away from Aragorn, “I made someone jump off a cliff, and worst of all, I am a kinslayer. I am not called a kinslayer by others for nothing.”

“You are not who you think you are.”

At those words, you turned to look at Aragorn again, who was beginning to speak again. “Your past does not define you. It is a fact that not everyone will take your confession as well as I did, nonetheless I am glad that you chose to open up about this, even if it is just to me only, it is a sign of trust. I will be with you if you need if you wish to tell someone else, and I will even stand up for you if any of our companions belittle you for your past mistakes.”

For the first time in Lothlorien, you smiled. Those words touched you, you were grateful to have Aragorn by your side, and you made sure you were going to do the same, to be there for him whenever he begins to feel insecure about his bloodline, his relation to Isildur, or when he doubts his leadership abilities for becoming a king.

“Thank you, Aragorn. I did not know it until now, but I needed those words of comfort. I thank you again for your compassion.”

In that moment, Aragorn began to realize that if your past does not define you, then his own bloodline definitely doesn’t define him as well. He also realized that he had overlooked the great achievements Isildur accomplished in his lifetime, even if he failed to destroy the One Ring, he was the one who cut Sauron’s fingers off which was enough for Sauron’s defeat in the Second Age.

Then eventually, the unthinkable happened. Aragorn was proud to have the same blood as his ancestor’s run through his veins.

He was proud to be Isildur’s heir.

Taglist: @moony-artnstuff @aspiring-ginger @kata1803

#lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine #fav

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