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minaturefics · 2 months

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Whispered Words

Request: Can I request an aragorn x reader where the reader is a queen from a faraway land? The fellowship came to his land to ask for help and Aragorn instantly fell in love? Whatever you like to add!

A/N: Ngl, I feel like I went off the rails a bit here (still trying to get into the groove again). I tried to create and integrate a somewhat convincing land/people. And the fic is mid-war so idk how romantic it really is. Still, I hope you enjoy it!!!

Aragorn x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

2.5k words

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You sat back in your throne of twisting coral and straightened the crown of mother-of-pearl shards on your head. All the torches in the throne room were lit, the fires flickering blue and purple, and the faded banners of your country adorned the walls. The coastal guard had alerted you to intruders — a company of four — that were swiftly captured and brought to the crumbling castle.

Who would dare sail the black waters? Who would dare to venture so close to the graveyard of the Númenóreans? There was only one, you thought, who would be desperate enough, bold enough, to endeavour such a treacherous trip — the returned heir of Gondor.

The rumours had flowed to you, to your kingdom, carried by the waters of the Anduin and the creatures that inhabited it. There were stories of the encroaching shadow of Mordor, of the growing strength of the Corsairs of Umbar, even of the awakening of the Ents. For years you had hoped that the dangers would remain on the continent, but it seemed that the kingdom’s luck had run out.

You reached for your sceptre, a beautiful thing of wrought gold and pearl, and nodded at your guards to let them in.

The large wooden doors creaked open and revealed a curious array of companions — a man, an elf, a dwarf, and a wizard. The wizard you knew, one of the fabled Maiar, but the rest…

They walked forward hesitantly, eyes scanning the room, until they stood before you. They were waterlogged and bedraggled, their clothes creased, sticking to their forms, their hair hanging in stringy strands. Even the elf, so noble and graceful, stood in a dishevelled mess, and you fought a smile.

The wizard bowed first and the rest followed suit. You eyed the man, taking in his dark hair and his ripped clothing. This was the heir of Gondor? He looked like a mere Ranger, a man of the land. He raised his head and a pair of keen grey eyes pierced you.

Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers tightened around the sceptre.

“I know why you have come,” you said.

The elf and the dwarf shared astonished looks, but the man stood straighter and said, “Then you know there is not a moment to lose. I will speak plainly if Your Highness allows.” You inclined your head and he continued. “I am Aragorn, son of Arathron, heir to the throne of Gondor. My companions — Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas of Mirkwood, and Gandalf the White.

“We have come to request your aid against Sauron of Mordor. Your kingdom may be safe for now, removed from the continent, but it will only be a matter of time before Sauron turns his eye towards the west.”

That, you already knew. But even so, to send your creatures, your people, into battle… There was little hope in defeating the overwhelming forces of Sauron, but here, sequestered away and shrouded by a vengeful sea, your people might still yet live.

“What will you offer me in return?”

“In return?” Gimli frowned, his chest puffing. Aragorn raised a hand to silence him and the dwarf fell to quiet grumbling.

“Land,” Aragorn said. “A home, an island, close enough to the continent for trade. It is wild and empty, but the land can be worked.”

“You speak of Tolfalas,” you murmured, thinking of the rocky and lonely island in the Bay of Belfalas.

His offer was a good one. It was not an easy life for you or your people, surrounded by tumultuous seas, battered by frequent storms. The bay would be sheltered, there would be plenty of catch and the weather would be temperate enough to farm properly, and of course, there would be trade with the coastal cities. It could be a place where your people could grow and thrive.

“Our people once were allies,” you said to Aragorn. “When your ancestors’ hubris destroyed them, it nearly destroyed us too.”

“This is not hubris, Your Highness,” he said, voice firm and impassioned, stepping forward. “Hubris would be to sit here and think that your kingdom would be beyond his reach. Hubris would be to think that you alone could survive him. Together there is still a chance we might drive his forces back, but alone we would fail.”

Aragorn straightened and squared his shoulders, he lifted his chin, and there in the ghostly light of the hall, he stood, a true king.

A heat flared in your stomach.

“Very well. You have our support.”

He broke into a smile, and gone was the solemn son, the honourable heir. Instead, before you stood a man, handsome and strong, and your traitorous heart thudded in your chest.

Aragorn settled down in the hull of the ship, feeling each sharp rise and fall of the waves, and tried to get comfortable on the cushioned bench. Rain pelted the deck above him like a volley of arrows and the sky rumbled like a distant war drum. It was unfortunate that they had to sail back to the continent in a storm, but you had supplied them with a ship of your people, sturdy enough to withstand any tempest. He was glad that they had secured your allegiance, and he had no doubt it would be invaluable when Sauron began his assault in earnest.

He had heard and read about your kind, the Númenórean’s oldest allies, people of land and sea, shapeshifters of a sort, but to meet one, to meet you…

He thought of how you looked on your throne of dead coral, formidable and beautiful, your gaze sharp and your painted lips grim. He had seen the flicker of amusement on your face, the hint of a smile, when they stood, dripping onto the black marble floor. Such a lovely, lonely queen, the leader of a dying race, the steward of a fading land.

Were it not for the weight of war on his shoulders, he would have been convinced that he had wandered into a fairy tale. For so long all he had been concerned with was his relentless work as a Ranger, of his inescapable duty as king, and yet when he had laid eyes on you those swirling thoughts vanished. Proud, noble brow, beautiful, determined eyes, graceful, strong shoulders.

His heart had leapt from his chest and he was still yet to retrieve it.

He reached for the strange pendant around his neck and held it up to the lantern. It was an iridescent shell, gleaming purple and pink, that curved and spiralled to a point, much like a war horn. The memory of you giving it to him rose in his mind.

“It is the custom of our people,” you said with an amused smirk. “It allows us to speak across leagues of land and sea.”

“I have not heard of such a thing,” he muttered, turning the shell in his hand, running his dirty thumb over the polished surface.

You tugged a similar shell out from under your robes. “They are a matched pair.”

His heart stuttered. Was it possible that you felt the same inkling of connection as he did?

“They were originally used by lovers, but they were soon adopted for logistical arrangements,” you said and he pushed down the rising feeling in his chest. “Though,” you continued, smile growing mischievous, “the way to use them has not changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“To harken to the paired shell, one has to kiss one’s own. There is a limit to how much one may speak, but it should be sufficient for us to arrange where and where to deploy our armies.”

Aragorn twisted the shell between his fingers. It felt too intimate to press his lips to it, to speak, knowing you would be holding yours close to your cheek, listening.

“Aragorn!” Gimli called from the top of the stairs. “We are emerging from the storm.”

“I can see the continent on the horizon,” Legolas added.

Aragorn glanced down at the shell. Perhaps now would be a good time to test it. He listened for their retreating steps and, feeling foolish, brought the shell hesitantly to his lips. It was cool and smooth, and it carried the scent of the ocean. It glowed, illuminating a sphere of light around it.

“Aragorn?” Your voice was clear, but quiet, and he brought it closer to him. “Has something already gone awry?”

“No,” he chuckled, strangely relieved and soothed by the sound of your voice. “I simply wish to inform you that we have made it out of the storm. Dol Amroth is in sight.”

“That is good news. I am corralling my forces, we will soon follow behind you. The larger fleets we will send to Dol Amroth to defend against the corsairs, and our smaller army of creatures we will send up the Anduin.”

“That will do for now.”

The shell’s light pulsed and began to fade.

“We will not be able to speak for a few more hours,” you said, voice faint and thin. “Until then…”

“Until then,” he murmured but the shell’s light had already vanished.

It had been a gruelling three weeks. True to your word, you had deployed your armies as you had planned with Aragorn. In the Bay of Belfalas, the dark ships of Umbar were repelled by the hallowed vessels of your people, and up the Anduin swam swarths of sharp-toothed monsters to Pelargir and Osgiliath. For three weeks you had muttered into your shell, had cradled it to your ear, savouring the snatches of conversation with Aragorn.

“We are entering the Paths of the Dead soon,” he said. “I hope we will emerge with good news.”

“Be careful, Aragorn. I, too, have heard the stories of that path. The Dead will not be forgiving.”

“I do not fear them.”

“But I fear for you.”

“I promise you, we will be on our guard.”

“I had forgotten how enchanting the race of men can be,” you said. “Even in war they play their flutes and harps.”

“The people must take pleasure where they can.”

“When this is over, I think I shall learn.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and soothing. “Dol Amroth is known for its skillful harp players. I’m certain you will be able to find a good teacher.”

“Perhaps one day we can welcome you to Tolfalas with the sound of harps.”

He hummed, a low, pleased rumble. “I look forward to that day.”

“Aragorn, for Valar’s sake, please answer,” you grit out. “Word of Pelennor has reached me. Are you alive?”

There was silence, and then, a whisper, “Yes. But we have suffered greatly.”

“The sun, it has been blotted out.”

“The men are losing hope.”

“I have faith, Aragorn,” you whispered, picturing him standing in your halls, strong and noble. “I have faith in you.”

“That brings me more comfort than you know.” His voice was soft and tender, and your heart stirred. “You bring me more comfort than you know.”

“We are marching for the Black Gates,” he said, grim.

“You go beyond my aid. We will repel what forces we can here in the bay and along the Anduin.”

“If you do not hear from me —”

“No. We will see each other again, Aragorn.”

“We may not,” he said. “And so now I say: I am glad to have met you. I am glad that we were able to honour our ancestors’ history.”

The shell pulsed.

“Aragorn…”

And the light faded.

You had seen, had felt, the destruction of the ring, even all the way in Dol Amroth. There had been cheering in the street, tears of grief, of relief, and the Sea-ward Tower’s bell chimed in victory. Aragorn had answered you desperate calls, assuring you that he was alive, and made promises to ride down to the coastal city when his troops had settled.

You sat on the docks, dangling your bare feet into the cool water, and watched the setting sun paint the sky orange and pink. An odd look perhaps, for a dignified queen, but after the horrors and terrors, you felt that it was a necessary indulgence. You stared at your rippling reflection, wishing you could shift form and vanish into the embrace of the ocean, just for a moment. Alas, that would be too much of an indulgence; you needed to be available should any matter arise.

You thought of Aragorn, of his steely grey eyes, his peppered beard, his toothy grin, and your heart fluttered. Who would have thought that a descendant of the Númenor would stir your heart so? Or perhaps it was not so much of a surprise, given the blood that ran through both your veins.

Aragorn’s voice rang out, calling your name, and you fumbled for your pendant.

“Are you on your way? Shall I inform the Prince of your arrival?”

He chuckled, sounding clearer and closer than he had in weeks. “I am already here.”

You whipped around and he stood a few paces from you. You rose to your feet, taking in his eyes, soft and silver in the evening light, and his lips, cracked but smiling. He was unarmoured, but dressed in his kingly robes of black and silver. You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your damp robes and bare feet, flush rising in your cheeks.

Valar, what had come over you? You were a queen of your own right.

“I wish you would have told me of your impending arrival. I would have sent word to the princes to prepare the city to welcome you.”

He waved his hand. “There is no need for such things.”

“You are a king.”

“I did not come as a king.”

His gaze was sure and full of meaning. He stepped closer and the breeze carried his scent of cedar and pipeweed to you. He was so much larger up close, broad and imposing, but also so much more charming. You ran your eyes over his face, the lines on his forehead, the creases at the corners of his eyes, his slightly unruly beard. Yes, underneath it all, still a man.

“I did not come for them, the people of the city,” he muttered. “I came for you.”

“Aragorn…”

He reached for your hand, and when you did not move away, he wrapped his fingers around yours. “Do not tell me you do not feel this also. I have heard the change in how you say my name.”

Your heart swooped, but you shook your head. “I have my people to care for, a home to build.”

“As do I. We need not make any formal promises as of yet.” He squeezed your hand. “I only ask that we continue to speak as we have these last few weeks. I do not wish to go a day without hearing your voice.”

You nodded slowly and he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a smile breaking over his face. “How long do you have before you must return?”

“A day or two.”

You hummed, gripping his hand tighter, and faced the sun. The air was crisp and clear and the rays warmed your skin. There was laughter from the homes and music in the streets. The Sea-ward Tower’s bell rang out, loud and joyous. Aragorn glanced at you, smiling, and you grinned.

“Then let us enjoy this peace for a moment longer.”

---

Aragorn is so grim and broody sometimes I find it so hard to write him, to show passion and feeling in a way that's not out of character. I hope he didn't come off as too flat here.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #aragorn x y/n #aragorn #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #lotr fanfiction #lotr

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ladyideal · 4 years

Text

This Is Us Part 5

Pairing: Legolas x OC!Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: Nudity (but it ain’t sexy times.)

Summary: When the One Ring was found, it becomes a journey across Middle Earth to destroy it. Watch as the Fellowship is formed, and crossed the continent, where loyalty will be tested, and love will blossom at the most unexpected places.

A/n: A lot of dialogue, so bear with me here. Just want to get the group closer to one another. :)

Chapter 4 ~ Masterlist ~ Chapter 6

The Fellowship climbed a winding way among the great trees. They ascended the path until night fell. In the blue glow of a moonlit night, the Fellowship climbed a twisting stair about the trunk of a tree, past glimmering lights of silver and blue.

Far above, the silhouetted shapes of the shadowy tree-branches loomed over the group. Passing numerous platforms, the company came to a stop before a great palace in the trees, lit with silvery lights. A curving walkway laid before, leading up a low stair to an archway.

They gathered before the arch as Haldir stepped to a side. A glowing couple, hand in hand, descended down the stairs to meet the Fellowship. The Fellowship, other than you, the two Rangers and elves, stared in awe. Aragorn touched his head once in greeting.

The light dimmed, and before the Fellowship the Lord and Lady, Galadriel and Celeborn, halt. The Lady's eyes focused on Frodo first then to you, but Celeborn was the first that spoke.

"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Eight there are here, yet nine there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf?" Celeborn asked. "For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

As he spoke, Galadriel's eyes flickered to Alena's, who looked up.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow," The Lady of Light answered her husband's question, which Alena nodded slightly.

Celeborn turned to Galadriel in surprise.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria," Legolas shook his head sadly.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose," Galadriel continued, focusing on Gimli when the dwarf sadly bowed his head. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

You looked away from the pair to study the trees around you. Anything to forget about Gandalf's death. You weren't the only one, as out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Boromir turned his pained face to the Lady, blinking and swallowing hard.

The Lady stared back.

After a moment, Boromir broke the gaze, weeping to the side.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." The Lord of Lothlorien turned to his wife.

""The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all." Galadriel smiled softly, now turning back to you.

"Yet hope remains while the company is true."

As if by a mysterious force, you looked back up at her.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

With that, the Fellowship accepted the offer wearily. The nights in Moria were long and uncertain. All the while, the maiar's death was fresh, and weighed heavily on everyone's mind. You lagged behind as Alena and Haldir took up the front, leading towards a temporary shelter.

"Y/N, Keeper of the Winds and the Stars, child of the Highest Valars," Galadriel whispered in your mind, casting her eyes sideways at you. "Welcome to Arda and to Lothlorien."

Once the Followship spread their bedrolls and made camp, Alena and Haldir excused themselves, taking a worn, but lighted path.

"Haldir," Alena breathed, stopping once out of earshot of the group.

"Meleth nin," The Haldir spoke, turning to the she half elf. "Manen an gar- mín vedui govannen." (My love, how long have we last met?)

"Avo ‘osto," She presses her forehead against his. "Gerich veleth nín." (Don't worry, you have my love.)

The marchwarden gently reached for the chain around her neck, drawing out the engagement ring. "Le annon veleth nín, híril nín." (And I give my love to you, my lady.)

For the the first time since meeting at the borders, the two embraced, lending the other with much needed love and warmth. It was awhile before Haldir stepped back.

"Nostad lín sui orch," He wrinkled his nose. "Cin baur a fós." (Your smell is like an Orc, take a bath.)

The beginnings of a small, relaxed smile appeared on Alena's face. She was home. "Tul-na nin. (Come with me.)

"Happilui." (Happily.)

Lounging in the tub of pleasantly hot water with hints of lavender within, Alena relaxed, soaking in the luxuries of being at home. Perhaps she could convince Haldir for a shoulder massage.

As the water cooled, she reluctantly stepped out and into a warm, cloud like, white robe. Pulling the plug, she suddenly padded out into the room, and found the marchwarden sitting on the edge of the bed, shrugging on a fresh new set of clothes.

"Meleth nin," He spoke first, watching his fiancee dig around the closet for a set of tunics. "Padad-na nin?" (My love, take a walk with me?)

"Mas anirach baded?" Alena asked, fixing her clothes and twirling in front of the wall length mirror. "Manen ceri- im thír?" (Where do you want to go? How do I look?)

Haldir watched fixated on the elleth, transfixed by the beauty in front. And yet, she was his. How in middle Earth did that happen.

"Ve vana ve i elena ro," He cleared his throat a few times, unable to get the lump out. (As beautiful as the stars above.)

The breathtaking smile he received in response, stole his breath away once more. Alena turned to him. "Tolo, hîr nín." (Come, my lord.)

Leafs of stained gold wafted down from the towering trees, adorning the gravel path with specks of gold. Jewel like color flowers sprouted from both sides, gifting the world with their unique shapes and petals. As the voices of other elves faded behind, the sounds of the forest resurfaced as animals chattered to one another, and colorful birds of paradise flew overhead singing their songs for all to hear.

Ahead, sounds of lapping water could be heard. A layer of mist descended from above, settling into wisps, curling eagerly around the pair. Beams of moonlight shown through the canopy, as stars danced and twinkled across the night sky.

"Meleth nin," Haldir spoke in the silence once they've stopped at the end of the bridge, overlooking the lake. "It has been too long, and I'm afraid it'll be much longer till we next meet again."

Alena gently placed a hand on one of the marchwarden's stiff shoulders, and looked over at the still water. A white crescent moon reflected on the lake, dotted with plenty wavering sizes of stars, and one lone grey cloud shrouded parts of the splendor.

"Then let's make the best of the time that we have here," She responded. "Gandalf has fallen to the shadows. We will rest here, grief over him, and leave when we are ready, but not a moment too soon."

Haldir hummed in agreement, relishing in the presence of the she half elf. He was fortunate, he realized, that despite all the harrowing events that happened, they were both still alive and well.

He reached out to gently nuzzle her cheek with a finger. "Gweston, Alena, iel -o Fenris, ana i valaina. Uare i cor na- lala tare, yare i forces -o mordor lende, emme indóme vest." (I swear, Alena, daughter of Fenris, to the Valars. When the ring is gone, when the forces of Mordor are conquered, we will wed here.)

"Gandalf na- lelya-. Man ceri- mín gar-?" Alena answered. (Gandalf is gone. What do have left?)

"I elena, i ithil, i anor, mín mellons. Ir ennas na- galad, ennas na- estel," The marchwarden pointed up at the night sky. "Mín gar- ammen." (The stars, the moon, the sun. When there is light, there is hope. We have us.)

The half elf stood close to him, standing against his lean chest. "I missed you, Haldir." She murmured.

"As I have missed you, Alena," He whispered, leaning down to gently press his lips to hers.

It was a quick kiss, but the gesture spoke volumes. A small group of various races coming together, to fight against the whole world. Even though the odds were stacked against them, the world must be fought for.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" He mumbled against her lips, peering hopefully at the elleth.

"I must stay with the Fellowship, meleth. Their hearts are heavy with grief still. Another night when times aren't so hard."

Haldir held her in his arms, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I understand."

The pair stayed in the embrace, observing the peaceful night for as long as they could.

Back in the makeshift camp, you sat cross legged on your bed roll, staring down at frayed parts of the tunic. Songs from the elves of Lorien could be heard in the distance.

"A Olórin i yaresse

Mentaner i Numeherui

Tírien i Rómenóri"

(Olórin who once was

Sent by the Lords of the West

To guard the Lands of the East)

"Melme nóren sina

núra ala

Eäro"

(Our love for this land

Is deeper than the deeps

Of the sea)

"What are they singing about?" Pippin spoke from the other side.

"A lament for Gandalf," You answered quietly, looking away from the sounds.

"What do they say about him?" Merry picked up.

This time you didn't answer. Instead, Legolas spoke as he watched you. "I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near."

To your left, Aragorn continued sharpening his sword as Gimli snored beside him. Legolas stood up, surprising you as he offered a hand.

"Come with me, Y/N. I want to show you a place," He smiled.

You looked around at the camp, hesitating when Aragorn swatted Gimli repeatedly for snoring loudly, and eventually moving away to Boromir.

"Okay," You agreed, grabbing his hand to pull yourself up to your feet. "Be back soon, Aragorn."

A grunt from your right was all the affirmation you heard.

"Maiaron i Oiosaila,

Manan elye etevanne

Nórie i malanelye?"

(Wisest of all Maiar,

What drove you to leave

That which you loved?)

"Ilfirin nairelma

ullume nucuvalme.

Nauva i nauva."

(Yet we will cast all away

Rather that submit.

What should be shall be.)

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them." Sam stood up. "The finest rocket ever seen. They burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver showers came falling like a rain of flowers."

"Perhaps you can write one for him, Sam," You smiled wryly at the hobbit. "I bet Gandalf would have loved one coming from you."

The hobbit shook his head at your suggestion. ""Oh, that doesn't do him justice by a long road."

"Just a try."

"Ú-reniathach

i amar galen

I reniad lín ne môr, nuithannen."

(No more will you wander

The green fields of this earth

Your journey has ended in darkness.)

""Take some rest. These borders are well protected." Aragorn spoke as he sat beside the captain.

"I will find no rest here. I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, 'Even now, there is hope left.' But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope." Boromir retorted with a single shake of his head. "My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And now our- our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right and I-I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored."

There was silence between the two.

"Have you ever seen it Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?" The captain asked, turning to the Ranger.

"I have seen the White City, long ago," The Ranger unclasped his green cloak.

One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call, "The Lords of Gondor have returned!"

Aragorn smiled slightly at his words, then looked away.

"Where are we going, Legolas?" You asked, after a moment of following the elf.

"A spot I found, not long ago," He spoke, pointing at the lump of dirt. "The hill right there. I can teach you how to make flower crowns."

"Flower crowns?" You repeated in disbelief, giggling at the end.

"Yes, mellon, flower crowns," Legolas grinned at you.

"That's hardly a hill, Legolas," You rolled your eyes at him, but grinned back at him.

In front, a field of flowers waved gently back and forth with the wind. The breeze softly whispered through each strand of your hair, curling around your fingers, and affectionately caressed your cheek.

"It's a beautiful night," You spoke, sitting down when Legolas made a spot for you.

"As are you," The elf returned.

Immediately, heat rushed to your cheeks and you turned away from him.

"Let me teach you, Y/N," He grasped a flower stem. "Watch carefully."

It was rhythmic, even soothing as you copied his technique intently. At times where the crown was loose in some places, he would reach over, brush his hands over yours, and teach you how to fold one stem over another to tighten the circle.

For a moment, you forgot all your worries, your pain, your suffering, and your grief of Gandal. Being with Legolas was like a balm to your injuries, gently coaxing you, and believing in you as you worked on the crown. At times, you glanced sideways at his knowing, nimble hands.

It was an arrangement of oranges, reds, and yellows. To be frank, the flower crown was one of the beautiful pieces you had ever laid eyes upon. Although you were older than Legolas, you were glad he shared this piece of knowledge with you.

An art form.

"Long days ahead," He spoke, gazing in determination at the flower crown in his hands. "No Gandalf, no one to lead the Fellowship."

"My mother told me that even when the two trees at home were cut down, there were still hope," You continued tying the stems together. "That even during the darkest nights, hope can still be found. It's not easy to see it, but it's there."

The elf was silent, as he paused his work to turn to you. "Do you think so?"

"I know so, Legolas," You placed your finished crown. "There, the flower elf prince of Greenwood."

"What do you think, mellon?" Legolas stood up, grinning happily at you as he adjusted the crown.

"It suits you," You chuckled, watching as he reached down to pick more flowers. "Why don't we make one for everyone? No i brestanneth anírach tírad vi amar." (Be the change you want to see in the world.)

He stilled at your words, straightening back up, flowers forgotten. "Ú-chenion." (I don't understand.)

"Caro naid dithin na veleth veleg," You stood up, taking his hand in yours. "Mín ma ceri- hi go-." (Do small things with great love. We will do this together.)

He stepped dangerously towards you, crowding into your space. You breath hitched as he stared down at your lips, memorizing every inch of it. "Go-, híril nín?" (Together, my lady?)

"Y/N, Legolas," A voice spoke out from the treeline.

You quickly shoved the prince away from you, desperate to create distance between you and him. Legolas turned red at the thought of being caught together, and you turned towards the newcomer.

Galadriel emerged from the path, keenly observing you and the prince.

"Lady Galadriel," You greeted quietly, sitting back down on the patch of ground from earlier. The elf nodded once in respect, and sat down beside you again. This time your knees touched, and you tried your best to ignore it.

"Y/N," She greeted, a smile gracing her face. "What brings the child of Valar here?"

"The same reason why Gandalf was sent," You responded. "Why all of us still fight."

"Morgoth's forces number by the thousands. Sauron does not know you are here, but I fear he will soon. You can not fight him."

"Until Dagor dagorath comes, the fight against my uncle will never cease."

"Dagor dagorath?" Legolas wondered.

You leveled your gaze at him. "The end of all times, when my father and his herald will lead the army of Arda and Ainurs against him. Then finally bring peace like it once was."

There was silence.

"Man gonoded eraid derithach?" Galadriel stepped closer. (How long will you stay here?)

"Tenna sauron na- lala tare," You answered with the smallest of smiles. (Until Sauron is no more)

"Ir ma cin treneri- hain?" Legolas turned to you, watching as your smile dropped. (When will you tell them?)

You turned back towards the direction where the makeshift camp was. "Er aur." (One day.)

As the stars lights flickered above you, you sighed. Being here was one thing, but another to not intervene. All you could do was to give advice.

"I'll stay with you, mele-," He stumbled over his words. "Melon nin."

Galadriel smiled as the prince cleared his throat, in a futile attempt to cover his mistake. You studied the ground, until a hand took yours and you looked back up to find Galadriel standing close to you.

"Gwend sui lotheg i edlothia an-uir," She whispered within your mind. "Mel na an-uir." (Friendship is like a flower that blooms forever. Love is forever.)

You glanced over at Legolas, who met your shy gaze, but quickly broke it apart.

"Aranel -o i valar," She continued. "Enyal- sina." (Princess of the Valar, remember this.)

"Cin na mel." (You are loved.)

Reads Everything: @asraime @mournthewicked

Tolkien: @aspiring-ginger

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littlemessyjessi · 6 years

Text

Dwarven Desire (Thorin Oakenshield Story): Chapter Five: Be At Peace

Thorin Oakenshield Story

I don’t own Tolkien or his amazing works that he blessed us with but I do own Jezguli and her stories.

Jezguli sat distastefully upon Zul's back as he moved onward in his horse form.

The rain poured down upon everyone making the mood a generally unpleasant one.

The rain was comforting to her for she was used to that in her jungle.

The temperature however ...not so much.

She noted with a bit of satisfaction that for once Thorin seemed to fit with everyone else in the sullen atmosphere.

However, she kept it to herself.

Bofur seemed disappointed that he could not smoke his pipe in the rain.

Bilbo was rigid as he uncomfortably rode in the downpour.

A smiled crossed her lips when one of the dwarves questioned Gandalf if there was anything he could do about the insufferable weather.

Her amusement only increased when the grey wizard responded in that witty fashion of his.

She could hear the chatter continue but instead she chose to tune it out as they all trudged on through the rain.

Instead, she chose to focus on the sounds of the raindrops hitting the earth and the water sliding over leaves.

In a way, it took her back to Rainwood...if only for a moment.

When it finally stopped they had made their way out of the forest and across great spans of lush green grassy hills encrusted with great grey boulders.

Thorin dismounted his pony annoucing that they'd camp there for the night before ordering his nephews to look after the ponies.

Jezguli thought this was a foolish thought for the young princes were quite mischevious at times.

And true to being young and reckless....they often didn't pay attention.

She personally thought this had more to do with the fact that the both of them were more concerned with their pipe weed that the quest but she chose not to say anything.

It wasn't her place and she felt Thorin would deal with it when the inevitable problem presented itself.

She joined Gandalf as he looked at the shambles of a home.

"A farmer and his family used to live here." the grey wizard remarked glancing at the golden eyes of the female in their company.

Her shroud let only that feature be seen.

She inhaled the air around them.

Something did smell a bit off but it had faded throughout the day and she could not detect the scent.

"Oin, Gloin." Thorin said.

"Aye." one replied.

"Get a fire going." Thorin commanded.

"I think it would be wiser to move on." Gandalf said obtaining Thorin's attention as he made his way over to them. "We could make for the hidden valley."

"I've told you already." Thorin grumbled as he passed Gandalf, blue eyes sharp with irritation. "I will NOT go near that place."

"Why not?" Gandalf question with irritation of his own. "The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice."

"I do not need their advice." Thorin said.

Jezgul only watched the altercation.

"We have a map that we cannot read." Gandalf reasoned. "Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?" Thorin said disbelievingly. "A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria. Desecrate our sacred halls. The elves looked on and did nothing. You asked me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather. Who betrayed my father."

"You are neither of them." Gandalf said. "I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past."

"I did not know that they were yours to keep." Thorin spat.

Gandalf shook his head and went off in a huff and Thorin said something to Bumbo about being hungry for a moment.

Thorin's blue eyes slid over to meet the gold ones staring at him.

"Have you something to say, woman?" he snapped.

Jezguli stared at him for a moment, "I can read the runes when the moon is here, Thorin but I do not know what moon it was written under nor when it shall come to pass. Lord Elrond would be very helpful to us."

"Then what was the purpose of you joining us at all?" Thorin snipped at her. "Another burden to bare."

Had Jezguli been a young girl with a soft heart that might've hurt her but she was very old and had seen many things in her life.

She knew well enough to know that when Thorin was as irritable as he was being it was because he was stressed and worried.

Not because he truly thought her a burden.

He didn't know her well enough to make a clear decision on that caliber.

He bore a lot of weight on his broad shoulders.

Her longs legs made a few steps towards him and she placed her hand on his shoulder as she stared down into his eyes, "Thorin, be at peace. If only for a little while. Be at peace."

The dwarven male stared up at that infuriately mysterious woman before she turned and darted off to leap onto Zul's back.

Now, in his panther form the two of them raced up over the hill and out of sight.

"Where is she going?" Bilbo asked the others in a panic.

First, Galdalf and now Jezguli.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do.

"Aye, easy lad. I'll bet she's just going to scout." Bofur offered.

The wind filtered through the black wrapping that coated Jezguli body as she tore off after Gandalf.

"I'm in no mood." the wizard warned her.

"I'm well aware of that." she said to him in a soothing manner. "I will return in a few hours. Zul and I will go and look head. If there are any orcs then I will slay them and return to you. If I am not back by morning then I will be dead. You should not continue after me if this is true."

She spoke of death so candidly.

Gandalf stared at her, "Have you no fear, dragon?"

"I am full of fear, wizard." she said to him. "Fear ignites my soul and burns my heart. Without fear I would be nothing but smoke and ash a long time ago."

The wizard watched as the dark elf and the black panther tore off until they were nothing but a singular black dot in the distance.

He too carried on to clear his mind of Thorin's stupidity and stubborn nature.

However, soon enough the dawn would be approaching and he new he should return.

It was when he returned and found no dwarves, no ponies and no hobbit that he grew worried.

A low growl startled him but the purring that followed soothed him when he realized it was Zul.

"Where is your mistress?" Gandalf asked the large cat.

The luminous eyes lifted and the wizard saw a lithe shadow moving towards him.

"Trolls." she remarked. "I knew that stench was familiar. The sun is just below the horizon. If they should be stalled and drawn out then perhaps we could turn them to stone."

Her ears twitched and full lips pulled up over her sharp teeth when she heard Bilbo.

"He's got worms...in his tubes! In fact they all have!" the hobbit said. "They're infected. I wouldn't risk it. Really I wouldn't."

As they argued and the trolls threatened to rip them limb from limb she took a moment to scale the large rock and assess the situation.

She produced a hand to Gandalf to help him up before she dove out of the way.

"The dawn will take you all!" Gandalf bellow before sending his staff down into the boulder and letting the morning light envelope them all and turn the trolls to stone.

The dark elf sat about cutting the dwarfs free but not before Bilbo.

She always tried to see to him first.

The little hobbit looked up at her even as she knelt before him.

"I worried you'd left us." he admitted quietly.

Her gold eyes snapped up to meet his own full of curiousity and relief.

"Master Baggins, I would not desert you. I simply meant to look ahead and protect us from any potential threats. There was an orc pack but they are no longer a problem." she said to him as she cut the ropes and he stepped out of them.

Bilbo was so like a child to her and when he looked at her with wide, inquisitive eyes she felt a strong urge to comfort him as one.

She pulled down a section of her wrapping to bare her mouth and she laid her full lips upon his forehead in a comforting kiss, "Worry not, my little hobbit."

Bilbo's cheeks tinted as she pulled her covering back up and went about cutting the others free.

The little exchange did not go unnoticed by Thorin who scowled.

He wasn't sure why he was overcome with such emotion but he was.

However, when he saw Gandalf he knew he needed to make things right.

If not for him, they would be troll food.

"Where did you go to if I may ask?" Thorin asked.

"To look ahead." Gandalf said with raised eyebrows.

"What brought you back?" Thorin questioned.

"Looking behind." Gandalf asked and Thorin nodded in a humble manner. "Nasty business. Still though, all in one piece."

"No thanks to your burgular." he added.

"He had the nads to play for time." Gandalf corrected. "None of the rest of you thought of that. They must've come down from the Etonwoods."

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin wondered.

"Oh, not for an age. Not since a darker power ruled these lands." Gandalf said ominously. "They could not have moved in daylight."

"There must be a cave near by." Thorin said looking around.

Jezguli had thought the same the moment she'd caught the scent so as soon as enough dwarves were cut loose to free the others she went about search for the cave.

"Wizard!" she called out when she found the hole filled with the undeniable stench.

They followed after her and made their way down inside the rotten dwelling.

Jezguli had smelled far worse and so it did not turn her stomach as it did theirs.

She could not deny that her eyes wandered over the gold and jewels inside of the cave.

True to her draconian nature, it almost sang to her but she forced down deep inside her and locked it away and instead chose to follow behind Thorin at a safe distance as he examined some weapons.

However, when Gandalf informed them that they were made by an elvish hand he was repulsed by them.

She knew then that he would never, ever accept her.

She was two of the things he hated most of the world: a dragon and an elf.

It was not long before the company was climbing out of the stench filled hole and Jezguli watched as Gandalf presented Bilbo with a small dagger.

"I can't take this." he said.

"The blade is of elvish make which means that it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby." the wizard said.

"I've never used a sword in my life." the hobbit admitted.

"And I hope you never have to." Gandalf said. "But if you do, remember this. True courage is about when knowing not when to take a life but when to spare one."

The wizard cast a look at the dark elf before Thorin called out, "Something's coming!"

The company took up a defensive stance and Jezguli scaled a tree.

She locked her legs around the thick trunk and drew an arrow to shoot their attacker but she relaxed when she saw it was none other than Radagast, the brown.

A wizard.

A strange, kind wizard that she'd met a few times in the past in both of her forms but she frightened him so she tried to stay out of sight.

She listened from a distance as the wizard spoke of the sickening Greenwood and the Necromancer.

She hoped he was wrong for if the Necromancer was near...darkness was upon them and nothing good would come of it.

But when he produced the blade she knew belonged to no other...she knew it was true.

Then it came.

A warg howl.

The great wolf like scouts came down the hill though Kili was quick to shoot one down while Zul simply bit the head off the other.

Jezguli patted the great panther.

He would never let anything or anyone harm her and it had been that way since he was a dying man in the jungle so long ago.

While panic ensued among the dwarves, Radagast spoke up, "I'll draw them off."

"These are guldeban wargs." Gandalf said. "They will outrun you."

"THESE are ruscalbelle rabbits. I'd like to see them try." Radagast said.

"Zul and I will go first. Radagast will split the pack when he emerges. He may take half and we will take half. I will be able to attack while we draw them away. That should provide enough of a distraction." Jezguli spoke up.

Radagast started slightly at her sudden appearance and looked on with widened eyes but said nothing.

He might have been afraid of her but he knew her to be a protector.

"No." Thorin said. "I will not allow you to do that."

"I did not ask for your permission, dwarf." she said as she mounted Zul.

The great panther leap up and sank his claws into the bark of the tree as they scaled it easily and took off.

The orc packs tore off after them.

"Go then." Gandalf said. "Now, before they overtake her."

Radagast and his rabbits tore out of the forest in hot pursuit of the elf and the panther to draw some of them off her.

When he neared he saw her whip soaring around her and cracking against the wargs.

Half of them took off after Radagast and it gave her ample opportunity to make quick work of the orcs left with her.

Soon they were dead and she almost rejoiced but an awful sound tore through the air.

A warg cried as it was attacked and Jezguli's breath grew sharp as the company had just put a target on their backs.

The orcs in pursuit of Radagast abandoned their cause and charged towards the dwarves.

Zul and Jezguli tore off after them and she leaped from his back to swipe the head clean off an orc while the panther made quick work of the orc.

"Zul! To the forest! Hide!" she said as she landed amongst the others.

Zul looked at her with luminous sad eyes that pleaded her not to do as she would.

She placed a hand upon his giant head and locked their eyes together and with a silent command he was forced to leave her there.

She would do everything to protect him.

She drew her dagger and placed herself back to back with Thorin slicing at anyone who dare come near him.

The orcs drew closer and closer and when Gandalf called them in she felt great relief.

She and Thorin stood guard defending the opening until all had entered and they slid in together.

She heard hoofbeats and caught the scent before the others.

When a fallen orc tumbled down into the hole and the arrow from his chest was drawn her suspicions were confirmed.

"Elves." said Thorin with anger in his eyes.

The dwarves followed Dwalin down the pathway until a welcoming light shone upon them.

Jezguli closed her eyes as the smell of fresh water enveloped her senses.

Rivendell.

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Hey, smoochies!!!! I hope you enjoyed this update!!! Every day I fall more in love with Thorin and Jezguli!!! I’d love to hear from you! If you liked this chapter please tell me in the comments! Happy Reading!

#thorin #thorin oakenshield #hobbit #lord of the rings #erebor #lonely mountain #poc character #elf dragon tolkien #tolkien fan fiction #fan fiction #thorin x oc #thorin x ofc #thorin oakenshield x ofc #thorin oakenshield x oc #oc #original fictional character #plus size

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