#legolas love story

[entishramblings]

Watcher of Wanderers [Legolas/F!Reader]

A.N: this was intended just to be a mini one-shot to get back into writing. although, I will admit I got carried away. oops. heh.

Pairing: Legolas X F!Reader

Song Inspo: Mountain Meditation by Chantress Seba

🌬️ I highly recommend listening while reading

Summary: Legolas senses a presence following the fellowship on their journey and it seems to be particularly fond of him.

Disclaimer: all mythology related to the reader was made up for plot purposes lol. not canon.

Word count: 5.6k (once again, idk why I’m like this)

Warnings: comfort, fluff, loneliness, flirting, suggested sexual innuendos, stalking sort of (yes, again, I know. you’re just gonna have to read it I can’t explain it)

Additional Content: moodboard linked here

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

When you are nothing but a breeze that passes through the travelers’ bending hair. When you are nothing but a tickle that brushes upon the vagabonds’ breaking skin. When you are nothing but a whisper that hisses upon the wanders’ deaf ear. When you are nothing but alone, you too are a voyager.

That’s what (Y/N) was, wasn’t she?

She sailed through the years, watching every war and every battle. She observed every lover as she observed every enemy. She attended to them all, from their start and to their end. She perceived them hunt—first for food and drink, the simplest things, then for more. She witnessed them build—smaller creations in the beginning, then large structures that reached deep into her sky. She gazed at them as they grew, in mind and body. They began as little screaming balls of flesh, then sprouted into large beings that walked and talked. They produced more of themselves. They multiplied. Families, they had called it. She saw each one of them go by, twisting with desire as they did with age. Each was sneaking to find something—riches, power, hope, love, safety—but it didn’t really matter. She just bore witness. She bore witness to the happiness and to the dread. Yet, even when it was dark and desperate, she did nothing. She was silent—as she was meant to be.

Cursed to ride the winds for all of her immortal years.

Cursed to guide them and bend them.

Cursed to behold them.

Cursed to be them.

Alone.

A Watcher of Wanderers.

She was unescorted, unattended, and unchaperoned. She was unaccompanied as she wove through the desolate lands of Arda. Through the oceans, through the deserts, through the mountains, she bent and bellowed. But (Y/N) didn’t need anyone to accompany her, for she simply didn’t exist—at least not in the way one would think.

But after so long in solidarity, watching and observing, (Y/N) wondered what it would feel like to be more than what she was. She wondered what it was to taste and touch, to smell and see, to live and breath.

She thought how pain must feel. How did it bring red to the surface of their skin? How did it bring tears to their eyes? How did it bring screams to their throats?

Still, she wandered more.

She thought how laughter must feel. How did it bubble in their chests? How did it bring water to their faces? How did it bring glee from their mouths?

Still, she wandered more.

She thought about how love must feel. How did it soften their gazes? How did it bring drops upon their cheeks? How did it bring proclamations to their lips? How did it feel to welcome in another soul? Was it safe—not that she would know what safety felt like.

Still, she wandered more.

As each day passed and each traveler followed, she continued to question, guess, inquire.

Some of these creatures were more in tune with the natural currents of the word. It was the immortal beings, distinguished by the pointy ears that lent them an air of otherworldly grace and their lightning-quick reflexes. They were not just any immortals, but those whose lineages stretched back to ancestors who had walked among the Valar themselves. At times, (Y/N) entertained the fantasizing notion that they possessed the rare ability to hear her, though she recognized that this belief was nothing more than wishful thinking. As a watcher of wanderers, she liked these ones best.

Yet that did not mean that others did not catch her eye, for she was curious of anything unusual from the regular patterns of life. And when nine—born of various blood—walked together, her curiosity peaked.

So, she followed them.

One was a Maiar, but not like her. He shared the same celestial origin, shaped as one of the spirits meant to aid the Valar in their worldbuilding endeavors. However, his form differed greatly from hers—a form (Y/N) yearned for. She had seen him many times before, puffing his pipe. He had many names, but most knew him as Gandalf.

Two more figures accompanied him, mortal beings aging like the rolling seasons. Burling and tumbling they went, with their countless heavy weapons. One emanated kindness, his heart a wellspring of warmth. She had seen him before too. But the other, he was….troubled.

Another was one of the immortal, graceful, pointy-eared race—elves, she recalled. He was fluid and elegantant. He was observant and evaluating. He was tranquil yet vigorous. (Y/N) liked this one. She always had liked the elves.

From the mountainous regions of unyielding stone came another companion—a burly and gruff figure. His anger resonated in the sharpness of his words and the boastry of his laughter. (Y/N) could feel his temperament through the earth's vibrations. It wasn't always pleasant

Next, matched four more. They were stompers and stumblers, in a clumsy sort of way; yet, it was evident that they held no desire to ravage the earth. If anything, they seemed to harbor deep affection for it. The sad one broke her heart, the kind one warmed her soul, and the last two made her giggle….and sometimes she thought the elf could hear it.

See that was the thing.

Initially, her fascination led her to accompany them, drawn by their sheer otherness—such a strange assembly of beings walking in unison. But as she ventured alongside them, she felt connected to them. She got to know them, and one seemed to know her….sorta.

The first time she noticed such a thing was when a sound of joy escaped her being.

The two silly ones, which she found out to be named Merry and Pippin, were cracking jokes at one another and performing a game of riddles. As they did so, they ended up breaking into an argument. The most ridiculous words they called each other: mushroom murderer, squash squisher, beet beater…..

She couldn’t help but release a whisper of amusement, and when she did, the elf—Legolas—abruptly halted. His eyes brimmed with uncertainty, and he swiveled his head, as though searching for someone.

But he couldn’t….

No…

He couldn’t have heard her….could he?

Of course, occasionally, all could hear her. In moments of anger, she would unleash her fury with deafening howls and piercing screams, causing gusts to bellow and trees to tremble. Her yell created a hollow sound as it funneled through the rest of the world—echoing upon mountains, bouncing off houses, riding along hills, drifting through the farmer’s mills. It took much frustration to create such a ruckus of vibrations. However, just a faint breath of joy? There was no way the elf could hear that….right?

…..

The second time that a strange encounter occurred was when the group stopped by a deep river. Legolas had wandered a little way away from the group where the trees were denser and the light was less, and oh of course (Y/N) followed.

There, the elf stripped off his clothing, letting the moonlight bend and dip upon his muscled form. The cool night air played gently against his bare skin as he ventured into the water, welcoming the invigorating sensation. With his hands, he meticulously scrubbed away any lingering grime, running his palms across his arms and fingers through his damp hair until no trace of dirt remained.

Gently, he laid upon his back, floating at the surface of the smooth river.

(Y/N) watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and repeatedly. Meditation, she recalled the elvish creatures of the world calling it.

Eager to draw nearer, (Y/N) gracefully glided closer, brushing ever so lightly upon the surface of the ripples. She circled him, her gaze drinking in every detail of his form slightly obstructed by the water—his elegant facial features, his sleek hair, his sculpted biceps, his toned abs, the sharp v-line of his lower abdomen, and, she couldn't help but notice his rather large…

A soft giggle escaped her lips, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.

Instantly, Legolas sprang upright, his feet finding a place upon the rocks beneath the now turbulent ripples. He swiftly pivoted, calling out, “Who’s there?!”

(Y/N) was still, shock and uncertainty shrouding her.

Legolas' cerulean eyes darted anxiously from side to side, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He moved with haste, continually spinning around in search of…..something.

“You…you can hear me?” (Y/N) whispered.

He did not respond and his state did not change. There was not an ounce of any recognition across his features.

…..

The third time that Legolas was startled by the curious enigma that appeared to be haunting him was when the fellowship had set up camp for the night.

Gandalf and Legolas were on watch, their attentive gazes shifting from the crackling fire to the perimeters of their camp. Mithanduil contentedly puffed on his pipe, releasing wisps of smoke that ascended into the night sky. Legolas was methodically sharpening the tips of his arrows, preparing for the inevitable fight. The ambiance was strangely peaceful, with the imminent dangers appearing to be held at bay, at least for the moment, even in the face of the dread.

However, this serene atmosphere suffered a sudden intrusion, initiated by (Y/N)'s ever-present curiosity.

She loved watching the creatures of Arda. It was her favorite pastime over the eons. Well, her only pastime. After all, she was a watcher of wanderers. For, as her shapeless form, there was nothing more she could do with her existence.

Therefore, when the elf began to draw whetstone upon the tops of his arrows, (Y/N) wanted to observe. She crept closer to him, becoming entranced by the rhythmic and tranquil nature of his movements. Drawn into the spectacle, she leaned in further and further until, unintentionally, she brushed lightly against his form.

His hand instinctively reached for his shoulder as his wide cerulean blues initiated their frequent and fervent scanning of the dim surroundings—a routine that seemed to be occurring with increasing regularity nowadays.

Gandalf’s gray eyes drifted upon the elf curiously, his bushy brows lifting in questions.

“I swore…” Legolas began, still peering about the campsite. “I swore I felt…something.”

The wizard’s inquiring gaze only deepened, imploring the elf to add more to his rather empty statement.

Noticing Gandalf's unspoken request for more information, Legolas continued, "My apologies, Mithranduil. Lately, I've been sensing a presence. Yet, when I search for it, I'm met with nothing but emptiness and confusion."

Gandalf huffed before pressing his lips to his pipe again, his gaze drifting away in a dismissal of danger. “It is probably just (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” He questioned, still puzzled.

Gandalf glanced at Legolas, and with a nonchalant hum, he spoke again. “The spirit of the wind. A Maiar with a form that knows no shape.” He rolled his eyes as he gruffed out an additional mumbling sentence. “She has a particular fondness for elves.”

Legolas, still flushed with adrenaline, only stared at him. “I—I do not understand.”

The wizard’s gray gaze drifted back to the elf, who was clearly seeking answers. “(Y/N) is one of the Maiar, tasked many ages ago by Manwë to help shape Arda. She still lingers in this realm, often stirring up her usual mischief as she follows wanderers on their adventures."

Legolas frowned. “If she wanders this earth, why can I see her not?”

Gandalf drew another puff from his pipe before responding, "She was cursed to be without form, unlike myself."

“Cursed? But why?”

The wizard raised his bushy brows once more. “Her mischief irked many—especially Manwë.”

“What sorts of mischief do you speak of?”

Gandalf shrugged. “Inconsequential pranks and harmless tricks. Quite frankly, an annoyance to us all, but not dangerous.”

At that very moment, a gust of wind swept in rather forcefully, causing the wizard's beard to billow and lifting his hat into the air, sending it spiraling down to land by his feet.

Legolas's lips parted in surprise as the wind subsided, and Gandalf let out a string of curses and grumbles.

"I believe you might have offended her," Legolas remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

The wizard snorted, his irritation obvious, as he picked his hat up and placed it atop his head once more.

….

As the weeks continued on, Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s subtle presence.

It seemed she was indeed traveling with them. On scorching hot days, a refreshing breeze would rise and caress them gently, offering some much-needed relief. As the autumn months settled in, that coolness transformed into a warm breath flowing through the air, comforting them. When they kindled fires, little gusts rushed forward, providing oxygen and nurturing the flames. If an item of clothing or a parcel were dropped, it would be delicately carried toward a hand ready to collect. It was as if the wind—(Y/N)—was assisting them along their quest.

It was particularly noticeable to Legolas that she often lingered in close proximity to him. Her presence seemed to envelop him frequently, becoming unmistakable and distinct.

When Legolas would be tasked to collect firewood, a gentle breeze would follow him. It would brush leaves out of the way to reveal dry wood and small sticks, perfect for kindling. The wind murmured songs among the soil, almost as if it were beckoning him to dance.

When Legolas would be hunting for food, a calm drift would search alongside him. It would twist through the brush, startling small prey to reveal them to him. The wind breathed wordless encouragement to him, as if challenging him to impress her.

When Legolas would be walking upon hard terrain, a playful gust would walk with him. It would blow his hair away from his face to reveal his features. The wind sent flirtatious laughter upon his elvish ear, chasing shivers along his nerves.

When Legolas would be changing out of mud or blood covered clothes, a devious wisk would linger behind him. It would push his tunic and undershirt upwards to reveal his muscled form then make his extra clothing scatter. The wind whispered sultry glee to him, teasing him in efforts to show more.

This mischievous presence that shrouded him seemed to flirt with him—challenge, play, and engage. Of course, Legolas recalled Gandalf's earlier assertion that the wind spirit held a particular fondness for elves, but the true depth of this fondness had only become apparent as her companionship persisted. He couldn't deny that their ongoing interaction held a certain allure, for he would be lying if he said their little game did not entertain him.

When the fellowship was in Moria, however, silence reigned. The usual gusts and breezes that had accompanied them were absent. It was as if the very air mourned with them. Yet, as soon as they exited, with grief heavy upon their soul, a quick adrenalized wind came to find them. It seemed to brush around the rocks, taking in the pain of the travelers and trying to process what it meant. Though, as the wind noticed one was no longer there, she took to sending warmth their way in hopes to soften the sorrow—shrouding Legolas for just a moment longer than the others.

When the fellowship was in Lothlorien, (Y/N) came too. Rustling up trouble among the elves with flirtatious gusts, lifting skirts and sweeping away cloaks, fostering much annoyance and embarrassment among the immortal elven folk. However, those brushes of wind often struck Legolas more than any other.

When the fellowship—or rather the three that remained—took to sprinting across Arda, the wind ran alongside them. It pushed them forward with encouragement, almost too eagerly and too persistent. It was as if she was whispering ‘hurry hurry’ in their ears—as if she possessed knowledge they did not. Though Legolas suspected neither Gimli nor Aragorn noticed the subtle guidance of the wind.

A watcher of wanderers indeed.

As the group arrived in Rohan, their hearts brimmed with renewed hope, for they had gained the knowledge of Merry and Pippin’s life and the presence of Gandalf.

Following Mithranduil's expulsion of the sorcery that had ensnared King Théoden, the weary travelers were ushered to various chambers where they could refresh themselves and find much-needed rest.

Legolas opted to bathe immediately, determined to liberate himself from the accumulated dirt and grime that had clung to his body through the arduous months of travel. He eased into the in-ground basin, the soothing warmth and enveloping steam creating a cocoon of comfort. He tended to his skin and hair with meticulous care until he finally felt rejuvenated. Elves did not like to linger in grime.

Emerging from the bath, he stepped into the adjacent bedroom, where his gaze was drawn to the open windows, allowing the cool breeze to waft in. The wind seemed to recognize him instantly, rushing forth with an almost mischievous enthusiasm. It nearly yanked his towel from his waist! It was only through his quick reflexes that he narrowly avoided a less than modest reveal.

Legolas ground his teeth. “(Y/N),” he mumbled in a chastising tone.

In response, the wind seemed to giggle, as if playfully toying with him.

He rewrapped the towel and hastened to close the windows, yearning for a night of undisturbed peace. Normally, he would tolerate (Y/N)'s whimsical outbursts, but on this night, his weary body and mind craved respite and tranquility.

Legolas changed into more comfortable attire and settled into his bed. He allowed his heavy eyelids to drift shut, for he craved sleep. But after a brief moment, they snapped open.

He watched as the curtains shifted ever so slightly, followed by the tapestry on the wall and the drapes above his bed. The blanket beside him rustled gently, and then, there was no movement in the room.

She hadn't left when he closed the windows.

She was still here.

Though he couldn't see her, he was acutely aware of her presence…right beside him.

The elf couldn't help but blush, a warm crimson hue creeping up upon his ears and cheeks. Oh, if his Ada knew he was flirting with the wind….

In an effort to divert his thoughts from such matters and avoid giving (Y/N) any indication that he was dwelling on them, the elf shifted onto his side, turning away from the playful Spirit whose home was the sky.

…..

Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s presence among the battles at Helms Deep and the Fields of Pelennor; although it wasn't until the latter that he knew for sure she was actively fighting alongside him.

Amidst the relentless chaos, the elf wielded his two silver blades, using them with deadly precision to cut the throat of one orc and immediately behead another. He swiftly pressed on, eliminating as many of the enemy forces as he could.

The men around him were growing weary, their energy dwindling, but Legolas continued to stand firm, even though he too felt the drain on his strength.It seemed the dark forces had taken notice of the relentless devastation he was causing among their ranks, as they began to single him out. Hordes of orcs began converging on him, and Sauron's archers took aim. However, the arrows meant for him didn't find their mark. They veered off course, curving with an unexpected gust of wind, plunging directly into three orcs nearby.

Legolas whipped his head around in astonishment, but it took only a moment for him to grasp the source of this unexpected intervention: (Y/N).

As he continued to take down orc after orc, she remained by his side, using her ethereal presence to force the creatures back into one another, granting Legolas a distinct advantage and a brief moment to catch his breath. She deflected arrows aimed at him and extended her helping hand when he faced the Oliphaunt. She even lifted him up with a gentle drift when his footing faltered. (Y/N) followed Legolas throughout the battlefield, her commitment unwavering, even after the war had drawn to a close.

Exhausted and burdened by grief and relief, the mortal, battle-weary soldiers sought solace and took to rest, heal, and eat.

Legolas volunteered to wander the battlefield in search of any survivors.

He tread carefully, his feet moving softly over the blood-soaked and red-stained earth. The ground seemed to bear witness to the agony, uncertainty, and hope that had marked their strenuous journey. Legolas had never anticipated surviving the trials that had befallen him, yet here he stood, alive and persevering against all odds.

With a heavy heart and the absence of survivors to be found, Legolas, fatigued and drained, decided to make his way back to his comrades who were attending to the wounded and offering peace to those in need.

In a sudden fierce gust of wind, Legolas found himself surrounded by an unexpected swirl. Swiftly, he whirled around, his keen elven senses alert, just in time to witness an orc raising an axe menacingly above his head, poised to strike.

However, Legolas was not met with such a gruesome fate. The wind seemed to rise against the approaching beast, as though an invisible force hindered its advance. However, that force began to no longer be invisible. A strange, translucent figure began to materialize into the opaque form of a woman. She stood, her back pressed against his chest and her front pushing firmly against the would-be assailant. With her arms raised high, she held the axe at bay, preventing the deadly blow from falling upon the elf.

Legolas' lips parted in astonishment, his eyes widening as he struggled to comprehend the event unfolding before him. But everything transpired too swiftly for him to intervene. The figure solidified, to the point that he could feel her against him, and the axe came down at an unusual angle, slicing into the woman's side.

A cry escaped her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, her pain echoing through the air.

Suddenly thrust back into the harsh reality of battle, Legolas swiftly grasped the knife strapped to his belt. In one fluid motion, he drove the blade into the orc's heart. The creature gurgled for a moment, blood pooling from its mouth, before finally collapsing lifeless.

Without hesitation, Legolas fell to the unconscious woman crumpled at his feet. His heart clenched with dread as he noticed the crimson stains spreading across the delicate, iridescent fabric that cloaked his form.

"No, no, no," he murmured, his hands pressing against the wound in a frantic attempt to stop the bleeding. Panic tinged his voice as he glanced at her face, his voice rising in desperation, " (Y/N), you foolish Maiar. Why did you intervene? Why did you put yourself in harm's way?" His bloodied hand gently cupped her cheek. "Wake up. Come on, wake up!"

She remained unresponsive.

Swiftly, Legolas gathered her into his arms, keeping one hand pressed against the bleeding wound, and hurried towards the makeshift infirmary.

Pushing the doors open, he called out in a voice laced with fear, "Aragorn!"

Immediately, the urgent tone drew the attention of those nearby, even in the midst of the ongoing chaos of the healing ward. The Ranger, alerted by the distress in his friend's voice, swiftly moved past the curious onlookers, with Gimli at his side and Gandalf following not too far behind.

“A-an ax to the side. She’s bleeding heavily,” he sputtered out. “Please.”

Pointing to a makeshift bed, Aragorn commanded. ‘Get her on that cot! Quickly now.”

Gimili, entirely bewildered by the unfolding events and his friend’s frantic behavior, called out, “Laddie, who is that?!”

Legolas, gently placing her form on the cot, didn't even bother to look at his dwarf companion as he replied. “(Y/N).”

The dwarf shook his head and raised his hands in confusion. “Who the fuck is (Y/N)?!”

The elf sent Gimli a quick, almost exasperated glance. "The wind!" he snapped back, a bit too sharply.

Gimli’s eyes drifted around the room, his confusion turning into concern for his friend’s well being. “The wind?” he questioned. “Did ya happen to get knocked in the head, tree boy?”

It was Gandalf that chimed in. “(Y/N), a Maiar, the spirit of the wind. She has been with us throughout our journey.”

Aragorn shot the wizard a brief look as he swiftly cut away the mysterious, translucent fabric cloaking the woman and began tending to the deep, bleeding wound.

“With us the entire time?!” Gimli bellowed. “Then why haven't I seen her once?"

Gandalf peered over Aragorn’s shoulder. “She doesn't have a corporal form. At least, she didn’t. I’m afraid this is the first time any of us are seeing her.”

Legolas ran his bloodied hands through his hair, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he stepped back. His chest felt constricted with worry while his eyes remained fixated on the woman as Aragorn worked. “Can you do it, Aragorn? Can you save her?” he implored, his voice quivering with a mixture of desperation and hope.

The man met Legolas' gaze. His determination to save her was unwavering, even in the face of this strange reveal of a profound connection between a force he didn't know existed and his dear friend. Seeing Legolas’ pain, he responded firmly, "I will try."

Gimli, moving to stand beside the wizard, watched the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He couldn't help but murmur, "I've never seen him so frazzled before." His words were filled with a deep sense of empathy for his elven friend, for this had clearly shaken Legolas to his core.

Gandalf let his gaze shift from the elf to Gimli, offering the dwarf a knowing look in response.

The watcher of wanderers had now become a wonder to the wanderers themselves.

……

Legolas sat in a chair beside (Y/N). He was quiet and still as he watched her chest rise and fall steadily. Aragorn had successfully treated her wound, preventing infection, though she remained unconscious. She rested soundlessly, her expression peaceful—despite Legolas’ bloody handprint, now brown, dried, and cracking, that lingered upon her cheek. Her features were graceful and elegant. Each curve and bend of her face accentuated her beauty. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to look like, though how she appeared made sense with her temperament. He could see her flirtatious streak, her mischievous tone, and her protective aurora. She was exactly what wind would be: strong yet gentle, fierce yet calm, emotional yet stern.

He watched over her, just as she had watched over him. So intently, that he didn't notice one behind him until a hand pressed firmly upon his shoulder.

"Legolas," Aragorn began, his expression filled with gentle concern as he inquired, "How do you know this woman?"

Legolas sighed, keeping his gaze on her. "She has been traveling with us," he explained.

The sound of wood scraping against stone told the elf that the Ranger pulled a nearby chair over to sit next to him.

“So Gandalf said. Though I do not understand,” Aragorn admitted.

Legolas shifted. “I started to notice strange occurrences—unexplained events.”

Aragorn raised a brow, “Strange occurrences?”

Legolas felt his cheeks heat as he cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, but more importantly, I noticed something helping us. Consistently.” He paused, “I asked Mithranduil about it and he told me of her.” He shook his head. “He said she was cursed to watch us—us inhabitants of Arda—and not be able to walk among us.”

“Then how is she here now before us, like this.”

Legolas glanced at his hands, a hint of nervousness in his expression. “I asked Mithranduil that too,” he admitted. “He said her sacrifice must have ended her limbo.” He then let his eyes land on his friend and he spoke once more, his tone almost fearful and definitely shy—something Aragorn had never seen from the elf. “If she doesn't survive, because of me, will Arda have wind no longer? I haven't felt a single breeze since she fell.”

Aragorn sighed. “I do not know, my friend. I do not know.” He reached forward and placed his hand upon his shoulder. “Please go clean up and rest. You are no good to her like this. I will take care of her, I promise.”

Legolas hesitated, “But what if she wakes?”

The Ranger sighed again, “If she wakes, I will send someone to—”

He was interrupted by a soft groan escaping from the lips of the Wind Spirit.

Instantly, both Legolas and Aragorn turned to look at the woman.

Her eyelids lazily blinked open, and she gradually became aware of her surroundings. A frown creased her face as she emitted another groan. Her hand moved slowly, making its way down to her bandaged side.

"What... what is this feeling?" she murmured to herself, puzzled by the sensations.

To her astonishment, Legolas responded, “Pain.”

She scrambled to sit upright in bed, the pain surging through her body but the sheer force of adrenaline propelled her actions. “You–you can hear me?” she whispered, eyes wide.

Legolas moved closer, taking a seat on the edge of the cot. In a gentle tone, he answered, "I can hear you. I can see you." He tenderly raised his hand to her cheek, resting it on the dried bloody mark already there. "And I can feel you."

A hushed gasp escaped her lips as she reached up to touch his hand. "It's... it's warm," she remarked, her voice filled with surprise. "I didn't expect it to be warm."

The elf smiled gently in response.

A mischievous smirk then graced her lips, and her gaze, rather unmistakably, wandered down his figure and briefly settled upon his pants. “Is everything this warm?” she inquired with a teasing tone.

Taken aback by her words and her brazen gaze, he cleared his throat. A noticeable flush crept across his cheeks and ears as he broke eye contact. With that, Legolas turned to face Aragorn, who stood behind him with raised eyebrows and a playful grin forming at the corner of his mouth. “My apologies, Aragorn.” He glanced back at the Wind Spirit. “(Y/N), this is—”

She interrupted him, her eyes on the other man. “I know who he is,” she said with confidence. “Aragorn, son of Arathorn the second, also called Strider or Wingfoot, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and the Uncrowned King of Gondor.”

The expressions on both men's faces contorted, morphing to sheer astonishment—how did she know all that?

(Y/N) grinned sheepishly. "I am the wind," she confessed. "I see and hear a great deal."

…..

The Minas Tirith Castle was cloaked in the deep shroud of a late moonlit night as Legolas walked through its ancient halls. The soft flickering of torchlight painted wavering shadows on the weathered stone walls, lending an atmosphere that resonated with the weight of its history. His footsteps were silent as he moved, and his thoughts followed suit, meandering through the corridors of his mind.

However, up ahead, a figure bathed in a gentle glow caused Legolas to abruptly halt in his tracks, his thoughts instantly converging on the woman.

“(Y/N),” he called out, approaching her. “What are you doing away from the House of Healing? You shouldn't be out of bed. You should be resting!”

She let out an exasperated sigh, not appreciating his chastising tone. "I am a watcher of wanderers, Legolas. Therefore, I too am a voyager. It is not in my nature to stay still."

Legolas released a heated breath through his nose. “That may be true, but you now have a corporal form. No longer are you just a breeze.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting her feet to hide the persistent pain emanating from her side. “I may not be a breeze any longer, but I still control all the winds of Arda. I could knock you on your ass in seconds, injured or not.”

Legolas chuckled lightly. “I never would have gotten involved with the wind if I knew she was so temperamental,” he teased.

(Y/N), suppressing a grin, responded with a snarky retort. “Oh, so we are involved, are we?”

The elf sent her a look, trying to hide his expression of amusement. “I would be naive to think that all the times the wind flirted with me, it was just a ploy.”

“Maybe I enjoy a ploy from century to century, Legolas,” she replied.

He laughed lightly at her jest, then took a step closer, his demeanor shifting to one of seriousness. Gently, he pressed his hand to her bandaged side. “(Y/N),” he began softly. “Why did you do it? Why did you get in between that orc and I?”

She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with sincerity. “You know why.”

“Say it,” he commanded.

“Because,” she began, her tone becoming shy and soft. “Because, I—I love you.”

Instantly, Legolas wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips fervently against hers. As their mouths met with equal intensity, he tasted the essence of the wind. And oh, it tasted of adventure, suffering, and joy. It tasted of warm bread from the north, bitter nuts from the east, clear water from the south, and fresh fruit from the west. It tasted of eons and eons of wandering, yet still, she tasted of home. Her hands found their way into his golden locks of hair, twisting and tugging it lightly. He allowed her to siphon off his heat, for the wind was often cold and bellowing. Though, he could tell she was taking more than just his warmth—she was taking his love; and oh, he gladly gave it to her.

…..

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#vayawrites #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas/reader #legolas fic #legolas fanfic #legolas fanfiction #LOTR fic #LOTR fanfic #legolas one shot #legolas drabble #legolas love story #LOTR writer #LOTR writing

[chicotfp]

Legolas comforting grieving Thranduil after Bard's death. Requested by amazing @lucy-verse Thank you so much for this request and for your Buymeacoffee donation.❤ Barduil has a special place in my heart. I hope you are not disappointed.

#thranduil #legolas #bard #barduil #the hobbit #lee pace #orlando bloom #the elvenking #elves #lord of the rings #photomanipulation #i am too emotional #all my boys are alive and happy forever #love them all so much #amazing request because i love dark anesthetics strong emotions and tragic stories #part 2 to my grieving Thranduil pic

[drvece]

Why do people call boromir the token straight??😭😭😭 The only reason he doesn't seem gay is because he's suraunded by the gayast gays to ever gay id look straight next to sam and frodos heart eyes and whatever gimli and legolas had going on

#by whatever gimli and legolas had going on i mean their epic love story but ykno #lotr #boromir

[matrose]

i will say it again...the appeal of legolas and gimli is not that they bicker the appeal is that they love eachother‼️ its not about enemies to lovers its about overcoming thousands of years of animosity through love‼️ they were barely ever enemies they worked together from the start and they bond in the first book and spend the next two books obsesssed with eachother pleaseeeeee !!

#where is that post abt how gimli and eomer are more enemies to lovers than legolas and gimli #i mean i guess to each their own if oyu like them as enemies to lovers and as like constant bickering couple thats fine of course !!!!!!! #but i dont see that at all!!! ive never gotten that vibe from them (books only) #i dont know who peter jackson is and i dont know what movies are!!!!! #idk it doesnt feel accurate to the narrative and the sort of story that is told with them.... #of course dwarf & elf relations are complicated and very mnuch open to interpretation #even more so with the silvans and the folk of erebor #disregarding peter jackson as you do of course #its a dificult complicated thing #but the thinf about legolas and gimli is that they just love eachother . they just do

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 166- Mouse Trap

Summary: Dr. Legolas Greenleaf is in the house. An impaired Josie remembers and reveals important info. Bash and Charles enter Dorwinion city. Upsetting info comes to Charles' attention and then more comes to light as a group unites. Cat and mouse anyone?

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, graphic depictions, mild violence, mentions of rape

Chapter characters: Josie, Legolas, Merlin, Bash, Charles, Delphine, Nun, Haldir, Rumil, Rahl

Chapter word count: 5,216

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

After an hour long session of your palm being stitched up by an elf who's only skills of proficiency were archery, swordsmanship and flinging himself from tree to tree, you were well under the influence of Dorwinion's wicked whiskey to kill the pain.

"I am finished my lady." Legolas exhaled in relief as he bandaged your hand, which you could have sworn he did not breathe the entire time.

"Now, Josie...do you want to tell me how this deep cut really occurred? This is not the markings of being cut by glass, which the healing water would have cured, but Lola told me it burned you."

"Oh sweet Leggy...you're too smart for your own britches...or should I say stitches??" you giggled with a snort, which brought Legolas' brow to an astounded arch.

A soft amused grin finally formed on his thin lips. "And you my lady, have had enough of the golden giggle juice."

His jestful remark had you snorting again. "And you're funny too."

"Well, there's nothing funny about this wound or finding you unconscious on the castle floor....or your spiteful words earlier this night."

"Well..." you frowned, pouting out your bottom lip. "That's all Stephy's fault..kind of...ok not really...it's the poison in my blood that his wicked twin put there by his beastly claws!"

Now Legolas' brow arched again as the other one furrowed. "Alright, maybe you should just rest for now and..."

"What? You do not believe me?? Tell me Leggo...did you or my Kingly King of all Kings know that Narcisse, well, actually Rahl, can turn onto a giant fucking cat?? Oh wait...BOTH of them can...one white as snow, one black as charcoal, but Stephy, he's the good witch and Rahl, he's the wicked witch of the west, only he's not a girl and definitely not green and ugly like her. Anywhooo, he freaking cut my hand when he shifted. I was standing too close."

"Josie...you have been seeing things that are not there. This happened tonight on the patio. You said Narcisse was there, but he was on the shoreline remember? And..I also found you talking to a wall."

"Ohhh, yes! There..there was a little girl...Rosie! I'm supposed to find her daddy. But noooo, that was not Narcisse, that was Rahlllll. He was a huuuuge raptor and flew down from the moon, morphing into a man wearing the devil's blood red robe with Stephane's face, minus the horns and pitchfork, and he walked right through me!! Come on Lego..las! I know what you and Thranduil can change into. The white hart. I saw you in Rivendell remember?? And I saw Thranduil in the forest only weeks ago, although that was just his ghost... so stop acting like it's impossible and that I am just drunk and delusional! And you yourself just said this cut did not happen on glass! Why do you think Mirkwood's water burns it?"

Legolas realized you were actually right as he sighed, and then his mind drifted to his father, knowing that was not a ghost that you saw whatsoever.

"I..I believe you. All things are possible with magic. As far as Narcisse, or this Rahl? I am not aware of it...but, possibly my father knew. What didn't he know?"

"That is true....but Rahl..he was brought back by Jareth. He's not even real. He's something Stephane's mind created long ago to protect himself from a terrible trauma inflicted by his father. Surely you knew him?? Didn't Thranduil trade with him as well when the Dorwinion King was alive?"

"Yes. He was quite wicked, just like the whiskey you have devoured."

"I fought Rahl tonight. Blade to blade. He was taking advantage of Claude. I saw her before I got to his chambers and she told me what he tried to do. You said that Lola saw Stephane kissing her, but that was not him Legolas."

"You fought Narcisse with a sword???"

"No! Rahl! but...I..I don't remember what happened after that...I woke up here...and...oh my god, my dream! There was a magic elf statue. It was Thranduil! and the bottom, it said...."

Legolas swiftly stood with gaping moonstones peering down at you.

"Gúl -o Aran Thranduil. Ech- a ithil sarn iest no i clair de lune." Legolas whispered.

You sat right up, also with gaping eyes as you too, whispered.

"Magic King Thranduil. Make a moonstone wish under the moonlight. Legolas?? You mean it is real???"

He slowly sat back down with a stiffened stance. "It is. My grandmother carved it and as she did so, her magic was carved into it. It was lost years ago during my grandfather's reign. You..you dreamt of this..where did you see it??"

"Peter's cabin. I...I was there again..and...I can't believe this. How could I have forgotten?? It..it was Christmas and Peter brought me this box of mostly junk, claiming he got the stuff at a thrift shop in Northern New Zealand. He said some gypsy like lady said it granted wishes and gave it to him for free, that the price was in the wishes. But then the asshole took it from me when I...oh my god, that came true!!"

"What came true??"

"I..I wished out loud in anger, right in front of Peter, for him to be devoured by a giant spider in the forest and that happened Legolas, in Mordor!! And then, he got angry and wished to come back from the dead and haunt me and...now he has by Jareth's doing. I just know he's out there! I saw him...a vision of him at my birthday party during a palm reading and he told me he was coming for me!!"

You began to hyperventilate as you sobbed and Legolas quickly pulled you into his arms.

"Never. Never will I let him harm you. Do not cry. Josie...I am sorry I was not here for your birthday. I am so sorry I left you. I will get you a proper gift someday soon."

You sniffled and hiccupped into hair, breathing in his calming tree leaf scent.

"No, I am the one who's sorry. I said horrible things to you tonight. You are the gift Legolas, wrapped beautifully with your giant big bow."

The Prince softly smiled at your double meaning as he tightened his embrace with closed eyes. "Happy birthday my lady."

"LEGOLAS!!" you shouted and pushed out of his arms, accidentally waking Leean.

"I know where the amethyst pendant is!!! I dreamt of it too."

"One of the six needed? Where is it?"

"Yes! At the cabin. I..it...it was Sarah's, hidden among some of her things I kept...but..I don't understand why she would have it? I...I've even dreamt of it before. Her mother, Jocelyn, told me to find Sarah and then put it on me and then I was sucked into some kind of portal. Leggy, we have to go there!"

You jumped out of bed and frantically began rummaging through your clothes to change as Legolas picked Leean up and tried to talk some sense into you.

"We cannot go there tonight or any night, for many reasons Josie. Most importantly, Harker is out there and the dead too. Also, that cabin would take days upon days of travel from where we are. We would be lucky to arrive before the solstice."

"Well we have to do something Legolas, especially while my mind is clear. I don't know what's happening to me with all these hallucinations and the way I have been acting. Look how I treated you and what I said about Lola...Lola? Where...where is she?? I need to speak to her about...something."

That something being about Rahl being her father.

"Out for a walk. I too...said some unpleasant, but warranted things to her."

"What??"

"Lola is of no matter at this time. You are. Your mind is not clear as you said. We must find a way to heal you, but first, you must sleep. We can discuss this further come the morning."

The morning that Legolas dreaded, for it was the deadline that his father had given him to begin the journey back to his halls with you and Leeanduil or Thranduil was going to come and reclaim you both himself, bringing his elven army with him that would incite a war. The Prince would have to decide the wiser option, for both scenarios could carry deadly consequences, the latter being of the higher risk and either would be a very heartbreaking outcome for you to see your King who wasn't your King at all. Should he just tell you the truth and let you decide? That was an immediate hard no for Legolas considering your state of mind.

"Oh god...Bash. Yes, I forgot...he told me there's a witch doctor in the city who can do so and I saw him leave tonight with Charles to go find her. Ok, let me think."

Still tipsy, you paced about as Leean quietly watched you from her brother's arms.

"If only Garrett were here. He could go and get it in only a few hours time...or even my crow..if I even knew where either of them were, but then again, Garrett is off with Kate somewhere probably getting it on. That jerk has my moonstone that I told him to hide. We need that now too. OR...I could try and summon the eagles!!!"

"Alright, slow down. The vampire Kate that my father beheaded?"

"Yep! I saw them, in the mirror, there in the trash. Garrett told me himself he had chosen to be with her again...but...it can't be true, it just can't be."

"Maybe it was another hallucination?" Legolas suggested as his eyes wandered to the trash to view the pulverized mirror.

"No. This happened before I was scratched. It...it must be real then. Why? Why would he do this to me?"

You turned to conceal your eyes that burned of tears over the vampire you secretly and deeply loved and then the room began to spin.

"I...I feel sick." you muttered and ran to the bathroom to rid of the wicked whiskey in your stomach.

Legolas laid his sister back down and kissed her tiny fingers, then he came to you, holding your hair back as your other beloved elves, Haldir and Thranduil, had done.

Once you were finished, you began to teeter from side to side.

"I've got you."

Legolas swooped you back up in his arms and carried you once more to tuck you in for the night and within seconds of Legolas patting your forehead again with the medicinal cloth, you were out.

As he then made his way to feed Leean, Legolas' ears twitched at the scratching and patting noise coming from the door. One of his white knives were swiftly drawn as he moved with great stealth towards the sound.

"Speak your identity!" he firmly commanded.

"Mrrrrow." sounded at the base of the door, drawing Legolas' astonished eyes downward with furrowed brows.

Upon swinging the door open, in strutted Merlin with his bushy tail straight in the air and greeted the elf with a single figure eight sway around and through his legs, then the purring Maine Coon of long lustrous black and gray fur, leaped upon the bed and curled up beside you.

Legolas offered the Kingly feline a soft grin as he closed and locked the door.

"Alright. I suppose you can stay...as if my approval is needed for that of an entitled cat."

Merlin's round cerulean eyes twinkled of magic, stunning the Prince where he stood and then the giant royal beauty lowered his lids to slits and went to sleep.

Bash and Charles disembarked the ferry to Dorwinion city while the small squad of warlock guards that tagged along for extra safety measures held back to not alarm the locals. To begin their search for the infamous lady witch doctor, they chose the nearest tavern for a brief rest and a much needed drink, not so much out of thirst on the bitterly cold winter's night created by the Elvenking's earthly wrath, but out of anxiety.

"Bash, I have been thinking on the way here. Is this really the only option? You know as well as anyone that black magic is not to be toyed with and Delphine is notorious for such acts. Look what happened to my mother and sister for tempting fate. Taking anything from a devil or a witch most always comes with a price. Can she even be trusted?" Charles asked, sipping his wicked ale as his nerves were now getting the better of him.

"Your mother was already evil and deserved her fate which was torture too kind if you ask me. Without the help of your father, this is the only known option and yes, I trust Delphine. This is what she does."

"But Josie is not evil. She is good and kind."

"She won't be for long if she is not cleansed of Rahl's venom. Any repercussions of the healing far outweighs what she will become....wicked like Rahl himself. Drink up, but carefully. We must keep our wits about us."

"So...Is it true?" the young warlock asked of his confused uncle after a moment of silence.

"Is what true?"

"The King of Mirkwood. He lives and caused the destruction this night?"

"No dear nephew. That was the Elvenking."

In that eerie moment of truth, a city guard approached the duo with discerning eyes.

"Sebastian Narcisse. What brings you and the young Prince to the city on a cold, dark and dangerous night? Surely it's not solely for our Lord's crafted ale that is quite plentiful in his kingdom. Is this in relation to the evening's earthly event?"

"It is one reason yes, to ensure our people are well and to assess the damage. Are there any wounded or fatalities?"

"No deaths reported, but there have been some minor injuries from shaken structures. Is all well at the castle? I would have expected Lord Narcisse to have accompanied you."

"My brother is tending to matters there, so we have come in his place. We are also looking for others. Have you happened to cross paths with Haldir of Lorien? Two men and a dwarf had come here as well in their own search for him."

"Ahh yes. The elven Marchwarden. I saw him not long ago on the docks with his brothers and the others you speak of, the Ranger, the Bowman and the dwarf. They were ready to depart when the violent rumble occurred. I am not sure of their whereabouts now, for the waters were too treacherous for the ferry to transport at the time."

"There is one other we seek. One all here know of."

Bash moved in closer and whispered to not be heard by others. "Delphine."

The man immediately stiffened up. "Why on earth would you seek the wicked??"

"She is not wicked, only perceived to be. There is one who desperately needs her help."

"A perception well deserved. Her help will be costly. You know this, for your brother does not permit black magic of any kind. It is considered a crime as you also know which is why she hides. I am sure you recall the village near here. The boy she healed of the black plague became blind and the farm animals fell ill with disease solely from her presence."

"His blindness was caused by the disease. The animals suffered from it too."

"Witches leave a trail of evil. Birds fall from the sky when they are near." the man argued as Bash recalled the pile of dead blackbirds on his terrace.

"Not all witches. Only wicked ones. I would not seek her if I believed her wicked. What happened to her was not her fault. Much more wicked this way comes. She is the least of anyone's worries. Now, do you know of her whereabouts?"

"Harker was indeed her fault. No one gives something to a warlock of evil without a price. It is my understanding that the witch is in God's hands now. From what we have been informed of here, Harker is in the area and has killed some of your men. He is no different from her. She probably assisted him."

"He is and has done as you heard. But as far as Delphine, you know not what you speak of. What she gave was not freely given and she would not aid him in any manner. I thank you for the information. We must be on our way now. Charles, come!"

Bash and Charles left and headed down the long winding docks that encased the colossal city that never sleeps, in hopes of finding Haldir and the others to bring them and the Marchwarden back to the castle, going against Narcisse's banishment of the elf. Bash knew they would be needed for the impending winter war and he knew you needed Haldir. He also had figured out where Delphine was.

"Bash...what did Delphine give Harker??" Charles soon asked with a curious brow.

As Bash continued his hefty strides, he glanced at Charles.

"Lola."

Charles halted his steps as Bash carried on around the corner.

"What?? Wait! Where are we going??"

"Guards!" Bash called to them as they stood at the boarding port. "Follow me."

"My lord. We were informed by the boatman that another ferry had taken Haldir and the others across the bay just before we arrived."

"Then we must hurry. Let's go!!"

"Bash!" Charles angrily shouted. "WHERE are we going??

"The nunnery." he huffed as his fast strides turned into a gallop.

Charles' brows scrunched in confusion over his crinkled nose.

"Church?? We are going to...church???"

"Please. No more. I beg of you. You said you would help me." Delphine pleaded as the elder prioress neared her with a glowing red hot iron bar from the fireplace.

"I am helping you child by ridding Satan of your soul."

The weakened, perspiring witch knelt on the dirt ground, her hands bound tightly behind her back by coarse roping that scoured her wrists like sandpaper, rendered helpless to fight back, for she had been stripped of her power by the previous iron branding of a cross upon her bare chest. It wouldn't have mattered what symbol was burned into her flesh. Iron was iron to a witch, whether good or bad, except for the immunity you had formerly acquired to the power draining magnet.

"You tricked me. I came to you for refuge of the evil one but it seems you are the real evil here."

"Hush your wicked lips now. This is the 7th marking. The final one. If you are not evil like you claim, you will be healed."

"I will be dead!! I cannot take anymore. Please!"

"Back away from her!!" Bash shouted as he kicked the door in with his guards following and immediately cut the feeble witch's ropes free.

"What are you doing?? She needs cleansed of the devil!"

"It is you that needs cleansed, you fool!" Bash snapped at the nun as he swooped up the debilitated Delphine in his arms and swiftly departed.

Once embarked on the ferry, Bash covered her with a wool blanket as she laid barely conscious upon a wooden bench.

"Bash, what good is she to Josie in this state??" Charles whispered.

"A long bath in the healing waters will aid her recovery and use of her power."

"Why does it not help Josie? You said it burns her wound?"

"It's like pouring water on hot grease when it reacts with Rahl's venom."

"Then let me ask you this. Once the Queen is healed... how do we stop Rahl without killing my father???"

"I don't know." Bash replied with great worry.

"Rahl? He's...back too?" Delphine muttered as she opened her chocolate eyes and then became quite agitated as she sat up. "No..no, Bash, you cannot take me back there!"

Bash sat beside her and took her trembling hands into his.

"I will protect you. We have others that will protect you as well. Someone dear to us needs your healing, for she has been tainted with his venom and Lola...she's believed you dead all this time. She needs her mother...she needs you Jocelyn."

Delphine's hand swiftly covered his mouth as her eyes gaped wide with fear and Charles' jaw dropped open.

"Don't ever say my name out loud! They both will hear you! I have been hiding from Harker for so long and I know he is near. Those farm animals did not die because of me...and that boy...it's Harker's curse upon me that made him go blind. I..I cannot heal your friend without cost and if I go there and attempt to, Rahl will surely punish me or even kill me this time. I can not attempt to take what he has marked for himself...not even our daughter."

"WHAT????" Charles roared. "Lola...she is my sister?????"

"Charles, calm down and let me explai..."

"Do not patronize me!! Why was I never told this??? Does my father know??? Does Lola even know??? My god, I...I had a cru...I can't even say it aloud. I feel ill..."

Charles rushed to the front of the ferry and leaned his head over the rail in hopes that the chilled wind would hold his vomit down.

"Charles. Please listen." Bash sympathetically said as he walked up behind him. "Your father does not know. There are some things he cannot remember. Possibly from the trauma of what Rahl did while consuming his body and Lola, she was too young. Neither Delphine nor Rahl told her."

The mad warlock spun around. "Then how do YOU know??!!"

"Because Rahl made sure I knew all those years ago."

"And you never told my father??!"

"Charles...I..I couldn't. Delphine swore me to secrecy because...Rahl..he..used his magic to force her in his bed. She was ashamed and never wanted Lola to know either and I...I could not tell Stephane what he had done. It would have destroyed him. Our father made him do similar things when he was a young boy like you and that is what made Rahl exist in the first place..."

"I can hear no more of this! I have been lied to about everything from the day I was born and now this. Leave me alone!"

The ferry docked and Charles was the first one to disembark, immediately heading straight to his horse as Bash followed with Delphine in his arms once more.

"Wait! Someone is out there!" Delphine warned before Bash could place her up on his horse.

The warlock spun his head around to the forest as he continued to shield her body, protecting her like he promised he would do, when Haldir and company appeared from the darkness.

"Sebastian. Charles. We recognized your horses so we waited for your return."

"Haldir. We have been searching for you to bring you back. All of you. Terrible things are happening back at the castle."

"I have been banished by your brother. More terrible things will most likely occur if I return."

"There are things you do not know."

"Do not feel left out Haldir. It's something my family likes to do. Keep secrets." Charles retorted as he walked off to relieve himself.

After the Marchwarden watched the boy walk away with a raised brow, he turned back to Bash.

"If you are referring to the earthly disturbance this evening, we are well aware of it's cause."

"Well, no, I was not speaking of that, but yes. If my suspicions are correct, it was King Thranduil. He is alive?"

Rumil's Silvan eyes jolted to Haldir as Haldir's moved to Delphine, consumed with caution.

"I know who you are. Your reputation precedes you. I sense evil upon you. You are marked with it. Why is she here?"

"Haldir. It was placed upon her long ago by Harker by no fault of hers. Josie needs her help, for she too has been marked by evil."

Haldir's sapphire eyes dilated and bolted back to Bash as Delphine's eyes widened.

"What has happened to Jo?? Is she alright???" Haldir barked as he stepped forward.

"The woman's name is...Josie?? and called Jo?? Red...hair???" Delphine cut in, highly astonished.

Bash peered down at the woman of long brown locks like Lola's. "You...know her?"

"I...I...." she fearfully stuttered. "I cannot speak of this here."

Haldir's eyes fixated on hers and they began to narrow.

"You can and you will, for I can make you speak the truth witch."

"Haldir, time is of the essence. We must get back and heal Delphine so she can help Josie. She will tell you what you need to know on the way."

"No..no I won't. You don't understand. None of you do."

Haldir moved before her with intense intimidation plastered all over his sullen face as his jaw clenched.

"Then you will make me understand, for you will not go within eyesight of her without my approval. Now speak before I force your tongue."

"I...I...well she...she was...best friend's with my daughter long ago. In the civilian world. Please...I am not supposed to speak of Josie to anyone."

"You are...Sarah's mother, Jocelyn?" Haldir asked as he tilted his head.

"Well this just gets better and better." Charles piped with a smug grin. "Did you know she's also Lola's mother??"

"Shhhh!!!" she whispered to both the elf and the warlock in a panic and then continued to Haldir in a barely audible tone. "For all intents and purposes, yes. But please...H..Haldir. If it is true about the goblin King bringing forth the dead...Caroline will most certainly be one of them and...she will come for me. I...I told you Bash...I cannot go back there!!! I won't!"

A crackling of twigs came from the forest behind them and Delphine gasped in fright, then unsteadily bolted off into the trees.

"Delphine!" Bash shouted and ran off after her with all of the others quickly following.

"Halt!" Haldir commanded, causing everyone, including Delphine to freeze in their tracks.

Haldir's chin lifted for him to smell the air, his nostrils boldly flaring as he sucked it in.

"Narcisse is here. Or shall I say Darken Rahl?" Haldir snarled as his keen nose could pick up both the peppermint and pepper scent of the conjoined entities.

Swords, bows and and axe were all raised and shimmered in light of the waxing moon and then out of the darkness appeared the wicked warlock lord, caped, hooded and holding a charged up ball of golden electricity in his palms as he glowered at them.

"Well if it isn't Haldir of Lorien and his pointy eared sisters. Long time no see girls. Are you ready to dance?"

Rahl pursed his lips tight and raised his hand, chucking the lightning ball at lightning speed into the center of the group, knocking each of the nine to their backs with the blinding explosion.

He then turned on the guards and gave them the same dose of medicine.

"You are MY army. Are...we...clear??! Or shall I start singing a good old Christmas carol for you? Warlocks roasting on an open fire." he sang. "Lord Rahl nipping off your toes."

All but the guards flung to their feet with great agility and resumed their fighting stance with weapons raised, but not Charles. He became enraged at ran at the man with his father's face, wielding his sword.

"Give me back my father!!!!"

As Charles brought the razor sharp blade to the imposter's throat, Rahl bellowed in cackling laughter as he knocked the blade from his hand and the stunned boy to the ground, then held his blade to his chest in return.

"Let us see if you are all as simple minded as this young witch! My blade rests only centimeters from his heart."

"Rahl! Leave him alone. It is I you want yes?? Here I am." Bash shouted, panting desperately.

"If there's one thing I despise, it is a martyr...and a traitor!" Rahl snapped back at Bash.

"You're the traitor!" Charles fearlessly riposted. "Would you really kill your own son???"

"You, my foolish boy, are NOT my son, just as I am not your father, which you so hypocritically just displayed as you rushed me with your sword! You cannot kill me and if you could, you kill daddy dearest!"

"I was not trying to kill you, only slow you down."

Charles swung his hand up and hurled a magical fast ball of his own at Rahl's chest, whipping the dark lord's shoulder back, but not taking him to the ground.

A sinister grin formed on Rahl's lips as he brought his shoulder back with a snap, then he advanced on Charles.

"Weak just like your father. I have had enough of you."

"NO!" Bash shouted and dived over Charles, whipping his body to the side just before Rahl's sword pierced the ground where he had lied.

"AND you!" Rahl continued and raised the blade again.

"Stephane!! STOP!!! I'm your brother! Charles is your son!! I know you're in there!!! Fight him!!! You are the stronger one!!! You are the REAL one!!!"

Rahl's hand that held the sword began to shake and in anger, he grabbed his wrist with the other hand to steady it. As he desperately tried to swing the weapon down at the huddled pair, his hand slingshot the sword through the air and then his eyes burned a blinding yellow light as his head arched back as a peppermint breeze stormed through his hair.

With a heavy exhale, Rahl's head lowered as his the glow of his eyes faded to a soft white shimmer, then became their normal icy blue hues.

"Ch...Charles? B..Bash? Where...where am I?"

"Father???!!" Charles whimpered as he and Bash slowly stood up.

"NO!" Delphine screamed. "It's not him! He still is in Rahl's form!"

"Oh Jocelyn, you always too smart for your own good. Run witch run, all of you run while you still can. I'm hungry and ready to hunt! I love cat and mouse games!"

Before their very eyes, Aragorn's, Bard's, Gimli's, Haldir's, Rumil's, Orophin's, Bash's, Charles, Delphine's and the guards', Rahl shapeshifted into the big black beast with eyes that lit up like there was sun in the dark of night as it's tantalizing tongue slurped over it's cold wet nose.

And then a low malevolent growling purr rolled up it's broad neck and steamed out into the brisk air.

"RUN!!" Delphine cried as she wasted no time in sprinting off.

The jet black panther then ferociously pounced directly at Bash.

@redeemer46

How wickedly purrfect and true!

#lee pace #thranduil #thranduil and josie #thranduil fanfiction #fantasies #fairytales #magic #witches #warlocks #love stories #elves #the elvenking #king thranduil #legolas greenleaf #orlando bloom #fantasy fiction #dark fiction #dark fairytales #dark stories #craig parker #darken rahl #haldir of lorien #haldir #black panthers #Youtube

[tathrin]

An Elvish Lure

Somebody said “using yourself as bait” and my brain spat this disconnected snippet out, so: enjoy a scene in which the Three Hunters try an alternate plan by which to catch-up with the orcs and free Merry and Pippin.

"No," Gimli said.

"Gimli—"

"No," he said again, shaking his head hard enough to make the braids of his beard slap against his shoulders. "No, absolutely not."

"Gimli," Aragorn tried again, "this plan is our best chance to—"

"I said no!" Gimli roared. "I will not have it! Aragorn, I will not!"

It was not Aragorn who answered him. "Gimli, be calm." 

Gimli squeezed his eyes shut at that voice, as though he could shut-out the words as easily as he did the sight of the narrow, beardless lips from which they had issues; that golden head; those mithril-bright eyes. Fingers as long and spindly as bare twigs closed on his shoulder, their grip tight enough that he could feel it even through his shirt of mail.

"This is our best chance to save Merry and Pippin," Legolas said. "Perhaps our only chance. Gimli, I am not afraid—"

"Can I not be afraid for you, then?" Gimli asked wildly, grabbing those long fingers and holding them tight. He looked up at Legolas, then very quickly closed his eyes again. He pressed the archer's captured hand to his cheek and held it there, as though he might hold the elf back from this reckless plan as easily. "Orcs hate elves so much, Legolas…"

"That is why it has a chance of working," Legolas said. He sounded so unbearably calm, his woodland accent giving his speech the lilting cant of birdsong. He had sounded so strange to Gimli's ears, once. When had that fair voice stopped sounding strange?

"And if it does?" Gimli retorted. His grip on Legolas's hand tightened. "When it does? What then, Legolas?"

Legolas's narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Then we will fight them."

"Then you will fight them, all alone, until we can come to your aid," Gimli corrected him. "Legolas…" His voice failed him and he had to clear his throat twice before he could force the words out. "Legolas, what if we come too late?"

"It is a risk I am prepared to face," Legolas said simply. "And at any rate, Gimli, I do not believe you will. I have more faith in you and Aragorn both than to let myself fear that I will have to face all the orcs alone. And besides!" he continued with a sudden, fey laugh. "Should it not be the orcs who should fear to face my blade and bow? I slew many of their fellows at Amon Hen, and I will slay many more in these sweet green fields if they will but do me the favor of coming within range of my arrows!"

Gimli looked up at the laughing elf in sad, silent horror.

"We will not have to hide ourselves so far away from Legolas that he will be alone for long," Aragorn said, stepping forward to lay his hand on Gimli's other shoulder, the one that did not burn yet with the memory of Legolas's touch upon his mail. "Orcs are keen of smell, but their eyes are not so sharp in daylight, and their ears will have a hard time hearing anything over the thunder of their own feet upon these plains. Besides, Gimli, we have the cloaks given us by the Lady of Lórien; was it not said that they would help to hide us from unfriendly eyes?"

"It was," Gimli agreed heavily. "But these orcs are fast. And what if they have archers among them?"

"What of it?" Legolas shrugged again, scoffing. "I do not fear crude orcish arrows."

"A crude arrow can kill as readily as a finely-wrought one," Gimli reminded him.

Legolas tossed his head, his golden braids rippling in the dawn. "Only if they strike their target."

Gimli gaped at him in exasperation. "Legolas—"

"No, Gimli, I do not ask you to like this plan, but please. Are we not friends now?" Legolas dropped abruptly to his knees in the soft grass, a position which put his eyes nearly on the same level as the dwarf's. It was Legolas who looked up at him now, his pale eyes glittering as sharply as a sword. "Then please, my friend, cast aside your doubts. Trust me to do this."

"I do trust you, Legolas," Gimli responded automatically. "I do not doubt you. But—"

"Then it is settled." Legolas made to stand, to turn away, but Gimli caught him by the arm and held him still.

"But," Gimli said, his voice a stony growl, "I do not like the idea of you making yourself bait for orcs."

Legolas swiveled on his heels, elvish grace keeping him upright despite the sharp tug of a strong dwarven arm yanking him off balance, and stared up at Gimli. The smile he gave the dwarf was small and fleeting, and there was a heavy sadness in the curve of it that reminded Gimli, suddenly and painfully, of the grey woods of Lothlórien.

"I do not say that I like it either, Gimli," Legolas said softly. "But we cannot outrun the orcs. If they cannot be made to pause their march, they will vanish into Isengard with Merry and Pippin and all chance of saving our friends will be lost." He pressed his free hand to Gimli's cheek and gently stroked the downy hairs there. "I would risk a thousand such dangers for the chance to stop that foul fate from befalling those dear young Hobbits—and I know you would, too, Gimli."

Gimli swallowed, but the aching lump in his throat did not dissipate. "Legolas…"

"The fact that the orcs left the field of battle while the three of us yet lived worries my heart greatly," Aragorn said. His voice, too, was quiet, but a dark tension thrummed through his words like the warning rumble of stone on the brink of a cave-in. "That they put their need to carry away their captives over their desire for slaughter and torment…that worries me, Gimli. Worries me greatly."

Aragorn did not have the keen eyes of the elves, but his sharp grey gaze rose over the plains nonetheless and he stared off into the distance as though staring at the shadows of that terrible band of orcs nonetheless. "I do not know if even this will cause them to turn aside from their path…but if anything will entice them to delay their task, it will be the chance to make sport of a lone and injured elf."

"And so I shall play the bait," Legolas said, before he sprang to his feet, the movement too fast this time for Gimli to stop. He looked down and offered Gimli a fleeting, knifblade smile and declared, "And we Three Hunters will see if we can draw the hunt to us!"

Gimli should have cheered; the words were spoken in the sort of tone that rallied hearts and lifted spirits blazing into battle. But all Gimli could see in his mind was the terrible sight of Legolas left standing all alone, waiting for the orcs to come and find him while his friends hid and watched from safety.

"Legolas…"

"Peace." Elvish fingers pressed against Gimli's lips, stopping his words but not his fears. "Give me this chance, Gimli, and I will turn your doubts aside."

"I do not doubt you—" Gimli started to say again, his voice thick and strangled with the heavy feelings of his heart, but Legolas was already springing away, up the short and stony hillock. Gimli watched him go, his steps as light and swift as the flutter of butterfly wings.

"I do not doubt you, Legolas," he said, the words spoken now in a whisper so low that even elvish ears might struggle to hear them now. "But I fear for you."

Aragorn's hand closed on his shoulder again, warm and steady and lacking the silver-fire touch of Legolas's smooth brown skin. "Come," he said softly. "Let us get under cover, Gimli."

Gimli allowed himself to be drawn away, but his feet scuffed heavily on the uneven grass as he turned to stare behind him at the silhouette of Legolas standing tall and thin against the dawn, pale cloak and golden hair streaming out behind him. He made a fine target for arches up there, Gimli thought sourly; a fine target indeed.

Legolas drew his white knife, and Gimli turned away. He knew that the scent of elvish blood would be needed to draw the orcs' attention; knew further that only with the wind blowing strong and swift towards their quarry did this mad plan have any chance of success, and so he cursed the breeze. Had it only died or shifted, Aragorn and Legolas would have been forced to give up this chance; would have had no choice but to simply run instead, run until they dropped perhaps and even yet fail—but run together, rather than risking Legolas's life alone.

Gimli could not bear to watch Legolas take his blade to his own arm, spill his own blood, to lend verisimilitude to his role as bait; yet he fancied he could hear the sharp glide of knife over skin nonetheless, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight and let Aragorn lead him, stumbling, to the hollow in which they would hide together while Legolas stood out there, tempting danger, alone.

They huddled in their grey cloaks, hands on weapons and breath in their throats, and waited.

And then—and then Legolas screamed.

Gimli started upright, his own breath drawing in for an answering cry of rage and vengeance, but Aragorn grabbed his arms and held him fast. "No, Gimli!" he hissed, hauling the dwarf down bodily back into the small depression in the earth. "No, he is not hurt. This is the lure, Gimli! This is the plan. Be still!"

Gimli let himself be drawn back despite the thundering of his heart against his ribs. He pressed one bare palm against the earth, trying to draw strength from the touch of stone against his skin; trying to find the endurance for which the dwarves were so renowned. But he could not stop trembling; could not stop hearing the echoes of that terrible shrill scream inside his ears.

"I have never heard such a cry, Aragorn," he whispered.

Aragorn's grip on his arm tightened. "I have," he said. His voice was low, almost haunted in the shadows of their hiding-hole. "I am sure Legolas has as well, for his people have long fought the Shadow in Mirkwood—and," Aragorn added, swallowing hard as though against some terrible memory, "he could not have sounded so convincing, if he did not know the sound of an elf in torment."

Gimli's gut twisted and he bit his lip hard enough that he tasted a coppery spill of blood across his tongue. "I would that he did not know it," Gimli said hoarsely. He glared up at Aragorn and added in a sharp voice, "I would even more that he should never experience it himself."

"We are not far," Aragorn insisted. "If the orcs take the bait, we will know it; we are near enough to help. He will not stand alone."

"Not for long," Gimli muttered, "but perhaps for long enough." He held his axe very tightly and wished for a whole host of doughty dwarven warriors at his side—or better, at Legolas's side.

Another cry rose, more warbling than the first piercing shriek; more plaintive, like the screamer was weakening.

Gimli's grip on the haft of his axe tightened until his hand ached. "Aragorn…"

"He is not hurt, Gimli."

"Not yet."

Aragorn had no answer for that.

They sat in silence, straining their ears for the pounding thunder of orcish feet upon the earth; waiting to discover if the enemy would take the bait.

Waiting to learn if the three of them would live through it, if they did.

{read more gimleaf stories here}

#gimli #legolas #aragorn #three hunters #lotr #lotr fanfiction #gigolas #gimleaf #well unrealized gimleaf at the moment i suppose #could certainly be read platonically #but that's one of the joys of their relationship anyway: no matter the particular flavor the love never falters #they're every bit as devoted and delighted by one another whether there's a whiff of romance there or not #and i love that about them because there aren't many relationships you can say absolutely do not CHANGE based on whether it's romantic or no #even the ones that start as friendships and stay as friendships still tend to change somewhat if there's romance (or if there isn't) #but not legolas and gimli #you don't even need to decide which it is when you start writing a story with them because you're writing the same story either way #''you comfort me'' indeed #this ship sails itself all the way to valinor #my writing #my stuff

[welcometolotr]

am i late for @aspecardaweek ??

back in like. 2011 i read a gandalf/legolas fic on henneth annun and i am not kidding when i say it was formative to my lotr experience. i still think about it often

#listen. theres something beautiful in two not-young people coming together and enjoying time with each other once in a while #i don't even know what flavor of aspec they are in my head #but it's definitely A Flavor #actually i think i read several of them #but there was one that had a lot of timeskips and was rated G and was just a lovely story about them having a relationship through the years #where they were each other's Favorite ™ #and that's how i think of my relationships as an aroace person so i think it really stuck with me #and they just. Spent Time Together !!!! #aspecardaweek #LOTR #gandalf #legolas #welcometolotr #i was so invested in explaining this that i forgot the regular tags.....

[lesbiansforboromir]

oh OH hO spicey ohhh having a spicey little tantrum about the boromir tag don't listen to me at all do NOT listen I mean it I mean it this is so petty

#text post #Gonna go ffffucking crazy- people have to bend so far over backwards to make Boromir bad that they just full out ignore his entire characte #and bend even further over backwards to make the elves all better than him too like jesus christ #oh is it BOROMIR who would be bitter about dying in the defense of Rohan??? whose despair is just so self serving and requires legolas to #slap him out of it yes uhuh that seems reasonable seems like BOROMIR would just hate the idea of dying for allies he so clearly loved #when in the full actual canonical scene of his death he dies for two random guys he met five months ago and all he has to say about it is #he failed he is sorry he has paid #BOROMIR definitely doesn't deal well with his own looming death and would definitely snap at other people about it ignoring all the decades #he has been under the looming shadow of death and has been known as not-grim and loved by many and has done his duty almost like #that is literally all his life has been up until this point #and of course of course it's ARAGORN who he's supposed to be fighting for because he's SOO impactful on Boromir's psyche he meant so much t #him apparently ggrsfsfgrrffffggfrgr #everyone wants to hit boromir oh yeah he's so annoying his hopelessness is such a burden and everyone else has to deal with him #if ANY of you go looking for what I'm talking about and do anything about it I'll slaughter you myself these are such inside thoughts the #comic is good #I shouldn't even be angry it's the natural conclusion from a story that tells you Boromir is bad but does not spell out that it's because h #isn't 'faithful' to god #they just tell you he is 'too despairing' and he 'desires power' and he 'doesn't have hope' (hope being a proxy for faith and Boromir not #believing in Aragorn means he doesn't believe in Eru's chosen leaders and his 'grand plan') #despair being a sin because it means you are selfishly giving into your own desires for a good life for you and the people you love #rather than accepting that all is God's plan and this life is only meaningful if you are defending Eru's right to the throne of the world #But that isn't spelled out so for despair to be treated as evil in the story people apply a secular understanding of 'bad despair' #already a TERRIBLE idea btw genuinely awful to percieve hopelessness as a personal moral failing #I suppose thats it actually the major reason it gets to me cus hopelessness and despair is a base aspect of my existence like #I am in despair pretty much constantly and I know a lot of other disabled people with similar sentiments #and the urging from people to 'have hope' is at this point sickening and infuriating and maddening to me it is disconnected from my reality #WHICH is demonstrably why I care about Boromir and Denethor so much no one meets them where they are no one sits in their reality with them #they are deeply relatable in their dealing with dispair namely; they just live and accomplish and strive along with their sarcasm and #black humour through their dark grueling lives and do what duty demands and try to hold onto their crumbling family relationships #and then they each have uniquely cathartic ends to those lives

[legolasghosty]

Flower prompt! How about blue salvia for willex? 💙

...ignore the fact that this was sent in like 4 months ago...

"I figured out what it is!" Alex exclaimed, dropping down onto the park bench beside Willie, a shy smile pulling at his lips. "You're pebbling!"

Willie stared at him for a second. What? Also, who gave this guy the right to look that cute in a hoodie and basketball shorts? Seriously. His hair is all damp and messy from band practice and the tan lines on his ankles look ridiculous. And somehow, he's still the prettiest person Willie has ever seen.

And he also definitely said something... whoops.

"Sorry, what did you just say?" Willie asked sheepishly.

Thankfully, Alex's smile didn't dim. "All the little gifts and stuff," he said. "It's called pebbling, it's a kinda love language thing."

Willie tilted their head. "Um, what? Gifts?" Willie wasn't much of a gift person in general. Christmas was a pain in the neck, trying to figure out what everyone wanted.

"Like the other day, with the snare keychain you found after work?" Alex responded, mimicking Willie's confused motion. "Or the pink sea glass last week? All the little stuff you give me. It's called pebbling."

"I do that with everyone though," Willie said slowly, trying to think. "It reminds me of you guys. It's not really... on purpose."

Oh gosh, now that Alex pointed it out, Willie kind of did give all their friends a lot of random stuff. Some of it was cool, but most of it was probably junk. He just liked sharing it with them. But... they didn't want to be annoying to their friends...

"Gosh, sorry, I didn't mean to overstep," Alex burst out, startling Willie. "I just saw something online about it so I was doing some research and I guess I just wanted to tell you. But I'm so sorry, we can drop it-"

Willie covered Alex's mouth with his hand before he could say anything else. "No it's okay," they promised, pushing away their own thoughts. "I just didn't really, um, realize I was doing it. I don't want to bug anyone."

Alex wrapped his fingers loosely around Willie's wrist and moved their hand from his mouth to his cheek. "It doesn't bug me," he promised. "It's actually really sweet. I was looking into it cause I wanted to learn how to... I don't know, do it back I guess? Cause I love it when you share stuff with me and I wanted to give that back to you."

"You wanted to-" Willie began, but then gave up. Words were way too complicated.

They slid their hand around to the back of Alex's neck and kissed him. Because, really, what else could he do? What words could show Alex just how much he meant to them? How he was always on their mind, drumming and dancing and laughing and holding them? How little things like this just pulled Willie deeper into the ocean of love he felt for his partner, and how Willie never wanted to resurface. The English language didn't really have the right words for that. So instead, Willie kissed him.

When they separated, one of Alex's arms was around Willie's waist. His other hand was tangled in their hair. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkled. In books, there tended to be lines about how one character could see a million things in another's eyes. That wasn't really the case here though. All Willie could see in Alex's eyes is "I love you" repeated over and over and over again. He hoped Alex could see that message shining right back at him as they breathed in tandem.

"You're amazing," Willie murmured, resting his forehead against Alex's.

"Learned it from you," Alex answered, his faint chuckle tickling Willie's skin.

"So it's called pebbling?" Willie clarified.

"Yup," Alex confirmed. "Apparently penguins do it too."

"Well at least I got somewhere to go with my fancy tuxes," Willie joked. "I beat penguins."

Alex laughed and pulled them back in for another kiss. And a couple of days later, when Willie showed him a little collection of pebbles, worn smooth by the Pacific Ocean, he kissed him again before he could get out the words, "These made me think of you."

#legolas tag #willex #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #jatp #alex mercer #willie jatp #also this probably goes without saying #but Alex keeps all the little stuff Willie gives him #After the third time Willie gave him some kind of little rock type thing #he went to Julie and got a fun mason jar to keep them in #They live on his bedside table #and he's always adding new ones as Willie gives them to him #the snare thing mentioned here goes on his keys #along with a little rainbow heart made of Legos #it's just very soft #and there's little hints of Willie hidden all over Alex's space and person #Alex also definitely starts getting Willie penguin stuff for a bunch of holidays #socks and stuffies and a pillowcase(long story it was cute) #and Willie absolutely loves it #they're just soft and sweet and in love and I love them so frigging much #I have a problem it's fine

[entishramblings]

#this is not ment to to be mean I have used at least half of these lmao #have some humor my babes #such early 2000s vibes also #lotr #lord of the rings #legolas #legolas love story #legolas greenleaf #legolas fic #legolas fanfic #legolas fanfiction #legolas x reader #legolas/reader #legolas x oc #legolas/oc #fanfic #fanficion #LOTR fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #ff.net

[undercat-overdog]

Paging through a timeline today and the First Age was so very long ago even in what you might call the early Second Age. There is more time between the founding of Eregion (c SA 700) and the War of Wrath than there was in time in the entire First Age (about 600 years); Aldarion, living around the same time as the raising of Ost-in-Edhil, is six generations removed from Elros and the five generations between were all born in the Second Age: how different the lives of our own great-great-great-grandparents! And that's the earliest Second Age. By the time Eregion falls, 1700 years have passed since the Silmarils were set in their resting places; the Last Alliance happened around 3600 years after the Nirnaeth. And another three millenia in the Third Age! "Before the fall of Gondolin and Nargothrond in elder days" has very much the air of "a long time ago."

The First Age is so removed in time - and space! - from later events. Sometimes I feel this isn't appreciated enough. The Second and Third Ages have their own stories.

If anything, I think the First Age can be overrated in importance? Well, not in its own right, but in discussing later events.

#meta #i do think that for all that the creation of the silmarils and the creation of the rings are closer together in time #than either is to the destruction of the one ring #(probably. let's ignore valarin years) #the rings are part of one story and the silmarils another #when it comes to the ~story of arda or whatever #the dividing line is the war of wrath not the destruction of the trees or the akallabeth #(imo ofc!) #i admit to getting frustrated at times #galadriel giving three hairs to gimli can be seen in light of her refusing feanor but it's about *her and gimli* #there's lots to compare and contrast between the three rings and the silmarils if you want #but the three and their creation have meaning and value in their own right and you can talk about them meaningfully w/o reference to feanor #if you say 'maglor' to legolas his first association might be 'who?' or it might be 'oh yeah great songwriter love his stuff!' #(it's not all about the sons of feanor. who are secondary characters even in age one.) #(unlike feanor who's not at all secondary. but feanor's story is quite separate from that of the sons in some if not all ways)

[ginnybaggins44]

“Do you want a hug?” he offered knowing nothing else to say or to do. To his surprise Legolas nodded and let Gimli take him into his arms. He let his head fall to Gimlis shoulder and let the tears run freely. Gimli held him close, rubbing gently circles onto his back, humming comforting. After a while Legolas stopped shaking and his breath became regular again, but he stayed were he was, in Gimlis warm embrace, letting himself be calmed down by him.

Legolas stayed in Gimlis embrace even after he had stopped weeping. And Gimli didn’t push him away, but continued stroking his back until Legolas pulled back himself. His eyes were swollen red from crying but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“Thank you” he said. “for everything.”

What happened to Legolas?

Read on ao3

#gigolas #gimlas #gimli x legolas #gimli #legolas and gimli #legolas #legolas x gimli #legimli #ao3 writer #ao3 #ao3fic #ao3 stuff #love story #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings #gigolas fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

[astrxealis]

me rn having the biggest hots for leon kennedy and astarion sorry LMFAOOO <3

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚ #^___^ me smiling innocently #bg3 is on the MIND !!! i dearly want it so badly. turns out my dad played 1/2 (not sure which) a looong time ago #but he never got too far i think bcs he's busy... :P but hey i love him. wow. it's really cool he knows it too (ofc he does lmfao) #me and him (handshake emoji) also never getting far in da origins yet bcs we have it on xbox bcs of him getting it a long time ago #but there's that bug in the mage tower... :( funny we both went thru it LMFAO <//3 anyway i got it on steam so i've been playing #again but not recently anymore since 1. ffxiv took over my life last days of summer again 2. summer is over back school so rip #anyway can u tell i love fantasy :)) da and bg babeyyy !!! my type is going to make you guys cry i'm so obvious #zevran... fenris... astarion... i have a thing for ppl w blond/white hair :P idk my fav in inquisition yet and idk anything abt bg1&2 yet #but Yeah. GHBSHJGBSHJG..... da origins is kinda funny (lack of better word) to me btw bcs i like all four main romance options #but it's hard to explain (i have a story behind stuff i want to share but it's tiring and annoying of me /hj !!!!!) #anyway i like blond elves if it wasn't obvious. yes i also like link and zelda from loz. yes i like legolas. yes i like #...anyway! so where does re fit in this? uh. u see i'm a coward actually i'm too scared to play re LMFAOOO #BTU I ADORE THE LORE and the characters and the game franchise and shit ^_^ just. i shld really watch it sometime #instead of reading wikis all the time and just soaking up all the knowledge but i'm. a Coward. okay #i can't even play bloodborne despite how nerdy i am over it... it's so scary to poor little me... i'm a coward (it's the harsh truth)..... #anwyay i'll conquer my fears one day but that day is NOT SOON !!! i wna get into re properly tho aside from just being a nerd #so i'm too scared to play but i'll watch playthroughs sometime (and admire leon) <3 yeah. another blond. i know. shut up. #is this my life rn am i just infatuated w blonds and white haired guys. it's gna be hell if i continue nier replicant rn too huh #uh. goodnight!

[galadrielspeaks]

Love that nobody can say that about Legolas and Gimli, because it is canon that that ship sailed itself straight through the sunset and into heaven my good folks. And isn't that nice for us.

everyday i thank god that we got them sailing to the undying lands together 🙏

#LIKE LITERALLY THANK GOD #that canonised legolas x gimli for me #when i first discovered LOTR i didn’t really think anything of legolas or gimli until i found out they sailed together #then i was like hold up… WAIT #then i got the books and was like WAIT…. #the films didn’t do them justice they r so canonically in love 💕 #they got their beautiful private love story 💫 we really won #ask

[takemetothegreenwood]

The wide four-poster bed was empty, the deep green coverlet thrown back and rumpled from use. At the end of the bed dozens of blankets and pillows had been piled into a cozy sort of den. Merry and Pippin were both fast asleep in the warm bundle, their curly hair sticking up in sections, their mouths fluttering open with little snores. There was a platter of half eaten food, dried fruit and cheese and slices of thick bread, laid out near their feet. Sam and Frodo were still awake, sitting up against the side of the bed, though Frodos' head had begun to list to the side, tucking gently against Sams' shoulder.

Her eyes traveled across the room to the fireplace, which was lit and flickering, throwing red and orange streaks across the stone floor. Gimli was sprawled before it, his tanned skin glowing in the light from the flames. Above him on a low chaise was Legolas, long legs stretched out over one end, blue eyes half closed as he stared up at the high ceiling. His blonde hair was draped over the edge of the little couch, and as she watched, Gimlis' broad hand lifted from the floor, toying absently with the fine strands.

She watched them for another moment, listening to the quiet sound of the little hobbits sleepy chatter and the soft crackling of the logs. Then she cleared her throat.

Legolas sprang up at once, scrambling to his feet with wide eyes. On the floor, Gimli moved slower, though his cheeks flushed a brilliant red as he caught sight of her in the doorway. Even Frodo jumped, looking suddenly awake and weary. Sam quieted him, slipping one sturdy arm around his friends slim shoulders.

"Ma-neth," Legolas went to her, his hands outstretched, shaking faintly. "Are you alright?"

"Thalias informed me that the young ones had been seen wandering the corridors," she murmured, taking his hands in her own. "I see they've found a place to rest at last."

"Ah," Legolas cast a glance back at them on the floor near his bed, smiling softly. "I'm afraid we've grown too used to sleeping as a group. It did feel strange to try and rest without them near."

"That is quite alright," she pulled him down closer, brushing her lips to his cheek. "I will leave you to it. Let us know if you require more pillows."

His eyes flickered brightly with mirth, thankful that she hadn't asked any further questions. He bent to press his lips to her cheek in farewell.

"Thank you, ma-neth," he said. "We will see you at breakfast."

"Rest well, my little one," she nodded, letting him go to turn from the room. She didn't look back as she left, but she felt his eyes, the curious press of his stare, well after she'd stepped out into the hall.

#if I had a scene from this mess of a story I'm writing that I wanted drawn it would be this #legolas thranduilion #legolas #gimli son of gloin #lotr gimli #lotr legolas #pippin took #merry brandybuck #the fellowship of the ring #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #she's an OC alright and I love her #i wanted him to have a mom lmao #ma-neth is what I liked best for step mother #my writing #should we tag this gigolas ? probably #gigolas #legolas fic #lotr fluff #lotr fic #lotr fandom

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 163- Soul Seekers

Summary: Rahl gains strength. Josie experiences it in her very soul. She and Legolas speak of current events. Thoughts of Thranduil are heard by the Prince. The Elvenking finds an opening. The King and the Prince have words. A threat is made. Jace, Clover and Matthew enjoy breakfast until upsetting news triggers both Clover and the vampire. The dhampir gets a glimpse of new magic. Legolas faces unexpected feelings as he and Lola bond over shared concerns. The Prince also bonds with his sightful soul sister, but not in the way he expected.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst,

Chapter characters: Thranduil, Josie, Legolas, Lola, Boromir, Leean, Narcisse, Rahl, Amara, Conde', Jace, Clover, Matthew,

Chapter word count: 6,080

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

"Josie, Lola. It is best if we all go inside." Legolas proclaimed after his father's manic meltdown that triggered a chain of earthquake like effects all throughout middle earth.

The Black Rhun was still angry as white capped waves rocked and raced with the whistling wind and a sinister stormy sky of dancing lightning levitated low above ominous ocean.

"Legolas. What was that??? Jareth??" you panted, refusing to let go of the rail you clung to for a crutch.

Boromir had the same question in his panicked eyes and when they connected with Legolas's, the answer had become crystal clear to the man of Gondor.

"Please, my lady. Come inside. The conditions are not stable out here." replied the King as you still believed him to be, totally avoiding your question as he reached for you.

You refused to release the railing as Lola quickly took Leean inside with Boromir, for you suddenly caught sight of Stephane standing on the shoreline.

"No. Stephane. He's out there alone. Harker could be lurking!"

You still cared deeply for Narcisse, no matter what state of mind he was in, for it wasn't his fault.

Narcisse, in his altered state, stood vulnerable at the water's dangerous edge, flooded by flashes of lightning and happily hypnotized by it. He knew in that moment that the Elvenking was in fact alive and was no longer in the evil clutches of the goblin king. It didn't matter to Rahl, but it certainly did to Stephane who was unable to overpower the dark lord. What was still unclear though to both warlocks that were trapped in the same body, was if Thranduil was a product of Jareth's resurrected evil dead. Either way, the Elvenking was back and to put it quite simply, he was pissed.

"Narcisse!!!" you screeched as the howling gusty winds abused your body.

The man that retained Stephane's physical image, made no acknowledgment to your shrill call as he remained locked in the mammoth moon's blinding luminosity, as if he were being charged by it's incandescence.

"Ok, well maybe you'll answer to this." you mumbled.

"Darken Rahl!!!!"

Your tactic seemed to have worked. Narcisse slowly turned to you in an eerie manner and then, before your very bedazzled eyes, he vanished.

You released the rail and spun around multiple times, your eyes darting about the grounds for any sight of him. The wind ceased like it had simply been shut off by a switch and all went silent as if you were in the eye of the storm. Your attention quickly went to Legolas, who was now standing just inside the patio doors comforting both a crying Leean and Lola and then, there came a sound of flapping, like the wings of a very large bird.

As you whipped around, there in the moon's path, appeared exactly that. A white feathered species you couldn't place with the wingspan of a giant eagle's and it was heading right for you.

The raptor like animal screeched in it's descent and morphed into ribbons of black smoke as it landed and out of that vision swiftly walked a red robed man with long jet black strands and Stephane's face.

You froze solid, paralyzed from head to toe as his blazing blue orbs glared you down and he didn't stop. His long fast strides carried forth, right to you and through you as if he...or you...were a hologram.

Gasping loud and heavily, your eyes rolled back as your body followed suit and you found yourself slowly falling to the ground....and then, cool soft hands vigorously but gently caressed your cheeks.

"Josie! Josie my lady. Wake up." Legolas's frantic voice echoed through your head.

Your eyes fluttered open to see widened moonstone's and platinum strands flowing over you in the lingering breeze of Rahl's hit and run, for as you flung to your feet, the wicked warlock was gone.

"Where...what the hell was...where did he go??"

"Whom do you speak of? There...is no one here Josie."

"Yes?? Yes there was...I...you didn't see that??"

You gazed off in the direction Rahl been going to see nothing but an empty patio. Jesus, did you hallucinate again? No...no, it was real, wasn't it? It had to be. You had felt him. You could smell him, the pepper, as you clutched your dress and buried your nose into it. He had moved right through you...through your very soul.

"I...I have to find Stephane. I...I...ah...ahhh...CHOO!!!"

The sneeze was so powerful, it knocked you right into Legolas's arms. Now you knew it had to be real. The spicy pepper triggered your sneeze, just as it had when Rahl's panther form blasted his scorching breath over you, burning your nose just as it was doing now. You needed to confront Stephane, or...Rahl and you needed to try and coax out the man who loved you, the man who had the power help your fever dreams, per se. But first...

"Leggy...I...I'm really frightened." you admitted in a most vulnerable way as you gazed up into the elf's worried eyes, which wasn't about what his father had just done. It was about you. The Prince noticed something off about you and if Haldir had been there, he would have been the first to see it with his superpower of reading one's soul.

"That is quite understandable after what has occurred but..."

"No...not about any of that. It's...do...oh god...I don't even know how to say it. D..do..you think that...Jareth could have brought...."

Your words were ceased by Legolas's single word as his eyes darted to the forest.

"Amara..." he whispered with a grimace, for her scent burned his eyes as well, one that only his kind could pick up.

"What? Where??" you asked with a gasp as you spun around, but did not see her anywhere. "I..I have been looking for her! I think she knows where Garrett is. Amara!!!"

"I do not see her, but I can sense her."

Legolas knew that Amara knew he had returned and was watching him, waiting to collect on their arrangement. He also knew that she knew his father had caused the sonic like boom and that was why she was hiding. If there was anyone the Seelie queen feared, it was the Elvenking and it brought a slight curling smile to Legolas's lips, for he knew his father's hatred of her would soon unbind him to the fiendish faerie.

"Josie, please. We must go inside now."

"But...I need to speak to her! She's obviously here for a reason?? Garrett...I..I saw him with Kate in a vision and I..I believed it at first, but...he woudln't..he wouldn't do that and I think Amara knows something."

"Amara will not surface right now. Even she has fears. And the vampire is not my concern and should not be yours at this time, or even at all for that matter. If Kate is back, like you say, then it is not wise to be outside. Now, Josie, please...."

"Stop it Leggy. Don't tell me what to be concerned about. And...what even WAS that apocalyptic explosion anyways?? You never answered me. Surely, you must know something? When you arrived here, you said you sensed something in the air and now this happens less than a day later."

Legolas had never straight up lied to you, especially not to your face and the fact that he had to do it, had the power to turn his stomach.

"It was possibly Jareth, as you had asked." he rattled off as he walked to the opened patio doors so he would not have to look you in the eyes, for you would see his untruth through the windows of his soul.

You glanced behind you once more into the darkness, feeling uncertain that it had been the goblin king. Jareth was powerful, but was the wacked out warlock THAT powerful? The familiar vibes in the air were hard for you to ignore. This felt more...elvenly....and Legolas said possibly.

"Yeah...possibly. But...what if...."

You turned to the anxious elf lord with resumed thoughts of Thranduil that you were scared to reveal, which forced Legolas's lying eyes to meet yours after he heard you finish your sentence, not yet realizing you had not spoke them aloud.

"he brought Thranduil back?"

"If anything is possible, it is not that." he immediately responded, feeling that much to be true, for Thranduil had not been summoned by the book of shadows.

With gaping eyes, you slowly walked to Legolas, who had stepped inside and held his hand out to you. Your good hand slid into his and then you yanked him to the side once the door was secured.

"Legolas?? How...I...I spoke those words in my mind!"

His head tilted and his eyes narrowed, then widened when he recalled the other times this had happened, believing it to have either been the dark forest's trickery or his longing for you due to your prior separation.

"So it was real..." Legolas softly spoke as he gently touched your cheek.

"Leggy? What...was real? What just happened?"

"I..I have heard you before, calling my name. More than once."

Reality finally struck you as well. "Oh my god, yes. I...I have heard you too! But I was sure it was only a dream or vision of some sort, because I...I saw the orcs! I saw you fighting them. You were near the Celduin...which that is where it really happened and Boromir was injured. Leggy, how is this possible??"

"It must be that we both share my father's blood. I am just not sure why this has never happened until now or that it only seems to occur at certain times. It may be due to your shield, which you can control like myself and my father ca...could."

And Legolas knew that was exactly why his father was so angry, for blocking him out.

"Yes...I think you are right Legolas. When I am weakened, my mind is vulnerable as well. It makes sense now and...oh wow. So does seeing your grandmother, Carandolel! I...I saw her once when your father was visiting hers and Oropher's secret graves. She...she had came to him. And I saw her yet again. She...she is the one who pulled me from the ocean after I was knocked out of Garrett's arms. And at Lestat's too...in the mirror! She was with Thranduil! Legolas, we ALL share the same blood."

You smiled and then so did he. "We do. Josie...about my father..."

Due to the Prince's distraction, the Elvenking found a doorway into his son's mind...and soul.

"Yesss Legolas. About your father."

Being caught off guard by his father's intrusion, Legolas knew he had to quickly find a way to excuse himself, for he could not hold a feasible conversation with both you and the mad King's plausible words at the same time, nor did he feel right in doing so.

"Legolas??" you asked as he abandoned his words. "What about Thranduil?"

Leeanduil conveniently began to fuss and squeal as she stared up at her big brother, relieving him of his non-existent reasons to depart, for now he had one.

"Let me take her for a little walk through the halls, if that is alright with you Josie?" he quickly asked as he gently pulled the petite Princess from Lola's arms.

"Yes, of course Leggy. It will calm her after all this commotion. She loves spending time with you and she certainly seems to want you right now."

After Legolas left and before you decided to go look for Stephane, you stood with Lola to keep her company until Legolas returned and also to ask her about the young girl you saw earlier.

"Lola...is there by chance a little girl staying here or visiting, possibly about ten years old, reddish brown hair? She..she said her name is Rosie?"

"Hmmm. It does not ring a bell. I know of every child in this castle, even visiting ones. Why do you ask?"

You felt your stomach do a flip, realizing it was either another vision or a hallucination, but something inside your soul told you it was different, but different how?

"I'm just trying to figure out what's real anymore. My visions, dreams and such, they are changing. Lola...I saw her. I...spoke..to her. I've seen her before, long ago in a dream. Who could she be?"

"I'm sorry Josie. I wish I could be of better assistance."

The man who was told to you by Lola to be Conde', Francis's deputy assistant, approached Lola and offered his hand with a sweet smile.

"You could assist me my lady. Would you like to dance?"

Lola seemed starstruck by the tall, dark and handsome man's offer and quickly accepted.

"I'd love to."

You giggled as they left hand in hand and watched them dance for awhile until you suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to eat and strangely, all you craved was meat.

As you nitpicked through the buffet, choosing solely ham and chicken carvings, Legolas was off in his chambers, simultaneously entertaining his sister and trying to stabilize his father.

"Tell me my only begotten son, which storm was it that weakened your mind? Mine, or the one that brews between your legs for my Queen?"

The Elvenking calmly paced about his chambers with a wine goblet firmly in hand, continuing his charade of having returned to his old self, but Legolas had concluded long before his arrival in Dorwinion that it was a trick to reclaim his daughter.

"I assure you I suffer from no such storm and yours was received loud and clear."

"Is that so? Explain to me then, why my attempts to speak with you have been blatantly disregarded."

"There have been many happenings here, some that you are not aware of, that required my full attention."

"I am quite aware of where your full attention has been. Here....you say? That being of Lord Narcisse's realm and not on your return travel with my daughter? Or...Josephine as you were ordered to do?"

"Yes Adar. I remain in Dorwinion. Traveling is not safe for Leeanduil or Josie. Harker threatens the lands. He has killed many of Narcisse's men and Jareth's whereabouts are unknown as are any of the dead he has brought forth."

"Surely you do not wish me to believe such nonsense? Your proficient skills, along with Haldir's, the bowman's and Josephine's power are quite sufficient for travel."

"I disagree. Four of us, all highly skilled, myself, Boromir, Aragorn and Gimli were all attacked by Jareth's man made orcs and Boromir was severely wounded. Surely you do not want Leean to be caught in a war?? Haldir, Bard, Aragorn and Gimli are not even here. It is only Boromir and I."

"Tell me Legolas, have you informed Josephine of my existence as I have commanded? For surely, if you had, her love for her King would not keep here there."

"Surely, her love for her daughter would. She would not be so willing as you are to risk her safety. Although she had saved Boromir, I feel her powers are now not in tact and for unknown reasons, she has been concealing that from me. She has suffered greatly over your loss and it has taken an everlasting toll on her. She even believes Jareth may have brought you back from the dead as well and wishes to know my thoughts of it."

Thranduil's thoughts briefly veered off again to the words of your soulful letter and to seeing you crying. He also recalled your possible projection when he held and kissed you in Mirkwood's forest and he even recalled his own out of body travel as the white hart. Your reactions at both instances to seeing him, verified the grief you suffered that Legolas spoke of and he could only figure that you did not remember it or believe it to be real, which would explain why you still believed him dead, aside from Legolas not telling you the truth and the Elvenking...well...he did not care in the least for your pain.

"Preposterous. The spell of resurrection merely opens the door to life. The dead have a choice if they want to walk through it, for they know what they will become. Those of light become dark and those of darkness become death in itself. They become lost souls."

"How do you know this to be true?"

"Because even I would not choose such a fate."

"You would not? You relished in what Jareth had done to you and now you claim your own soul is yours again, but I do not feel that it is. Even in the Elvenking's natural darkness, he would not risk his Queen and daughter's well being. If you want Josie to know you are alive, why do you not inform her yourself? Is it because you do not want her to know who you are? For then, she would not wish to come and so you have forced me to do your bidding."

"You dare to question who I am?? Was my storm too subtle for you to know your place??!! If I have not received confirmation of your impending arrival by the rise of the sun, you will have confirmation of mine. I will come to reclaim what is mine and you, my insubordinate son, will suffer dearly."

Legolas then knew his father had closed the conversation and he now regretted calling him out, but by doing so, it proved to him just as he believed. Thranduil was not Thranduil. His soul was severely compromised and if he came to Dorwinion, all hell would break loose, mostly for you.

As the sun had set in middle earth, it was rising in the modern world of Manhattan with Jace and Clover awaking in each other's arms after their night of love confessions and sweet love making.

"Good morning my beautiful Clover." the blue and brown eyed warlock softly whispered with a smile as he kissed the ginger haired dhampir's forehead.

"Mmmm." she hummed as she stretched and yawned, squinting at the sunlight beaming through the stained glass window. "I gotta get used to not being called Raven. It's been years since I have went by Clover and it was a brief period since dhampirs grow so fast."

"Yes, well, batten down the hatches, for there is much more here to get used to. Come on. Take a shower with me and then I will show you the rest of the compound."

"You mean this old church?"

"Yes, but remember, I told you it's real contents are only visible to the warlocks unless we show you, which is what I said I would do. Chop chop. I smell Matthews cooking and I am famished after last night."

Jace wickedly grinned, slapped her ass and hopped out of bed, standing in bare form with his hand extended out, among "other" things.

Clover's grin matched his as she quickly took his hand and was pulled up against his growing girth, only to then be swooped up into his arms and carried off to the bathroom, laughing and squealing.

After an hour of more love making under the steaming stream of water, the two dressed and headed to the dining area where Matthew De Clermont sat, sipping on his wine. It was always 5 o'clock in a vampire's world.

The dark haired vamp's cobalt eyes gazed at a blushing Clover and then they rolled to Jace with his wet slicked back hair. One would have thought by Matthew's expression, that he did not approve of their obvious night of passion, but that was just his usual look, for he really had nothing to smile about, not for at least 20 more years when he would unite with Leeanduil. All in all, he was thrilled for his pal Jace, but even still...he was quite envious and lonely.

"Now that you both are....recharged...I presume you will be heading to Dorwinion as we discussed last evening over dinner?"

"Yes." Jace confirmed. "When the sun sets here, for it will then be daylight there. Speaking of food, what is that I smell?"

"Scrambled eggs, and an array of "undercooked" meats to suit the needs of our guest. Strength must be kept up for what's to come."

"Cheese. You put cheese in the eggs right Matty?" Jace asked with serious concern.

A slight and short lived smile came over Matthew's lips. "Sharp cheddar, of course."

"Hell yes!" Jace applauded and bolted off to the kitchen. "Hey! No biscuits and gra...oh, never mind, Found it!"

Clover giggled as Matthew resumed his resting bitch face, then pulled out a cell phone and began scrolling.

"What...is that?" she curiously asked, for she had never seen one before.

"You, my dear, have a lot to learn of the modern world. This is a cell phone. I can speak to others on it, out loud or by texting."

"T..texting?"

"You know, typing words? Like this."

Matthew held the mobile device out and demonstrated as he typed in her name.

Clover's blazing blues popped wide open. "Oh my. All I have ever known was the power of a pencil. How bad ass!"

"I'll tell you what's bad ass!" Jace happily attested as he sat a filled plate before her. "This! Babe, you gotta try the biscuits and sausage gravy. It's fucking killer."

Clover chuckled and rolled her eyes. "You and your biscuits."

"Damn straight. Although these are way better than KFC's. Matty here is a master chef."

The two ate with Jace scarfing down 3 plates to Clover's one while Matt enjoyed his wine. Once they were finished, the vampire then spoke as he looked up from his phone with dire eyes.

"There has been a change of plans for your trip tonight. We will all be going."

"Matthew? What is it?" Jace inquired with all seriousness to match the vexed vamp's face.

"I have word from my contact that other vampires, dealers to be exact, are sniffing around the area. There's only one reason for that to happen and that is the probability that they have picked up on Clover's scent."

"What??!!" Clover shouted in panic and flung from her seat.

"Easy, easy sweetheart." Jace lovingly said as he took her in his arms to comfort her. "I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. I put my life on it. Matthew, who is the contact?"

"Ryan. I don't think you have met him but he is a vampire I trust with my own life. Although, Clover, you may know who he is?"

'I..I'm sorry? I..I do not know of any vampires named Ryan. Should I? I mean, I have been imprisoned half of my life in case you have forgotten?"

"No, I have not forgotten. My mistake. Garrett must not have spoken of him."

"Garrett?? What the fuck does he have to do with any of this? Garrett hates me!"

"Hey, calm down." Jace firmly stated. "If Matthew trusts this vampire, then so do I."

"Ok?? But I don't trust Garrett!"

All the commotion triggered Matthew's blood rage. He stood so fast, slamming his hands upon the table, knocking one of the wooden legs loose and sending Clover's head to burrow in Jace's armpit.

"Enough! As far as I am aware, Garrett and Ryan do not speak. They have not seen each other in years. Now, do you want to live or die?? Prepare yourselves. We leave in the twilight hours."

Matthew was gone in the blink of an eye and Jace did as he was told.

"Come on. I need to show you some things as promised, and then we will prepare.

Down the steps, Jace led a frazzled and frightened Clover to the foyer of the old church that only showed a battered and broken interior.

"Ok." Jace sighed. "Try to remain calm. What I am about to do may look painful and scary, but trust me, I have done this many times and it only stings a a bit."

"Jesus Jace. Remain calm knowing death dealers are still seeking out my soul and also after what you just told me? What the fuck is going on?"

"Did I not just say trust me? I know what I am doing Clover."

"Fine. Have at it then." she huffed.

Jace then took out what looked like a pen to the dhampir. "This...is my stele that I told you about. The thing my father took from me. I told you I went back for it after you left with Thranduil."

"Yes, I remember that/ So, what's so big about it? Is it some kind of magic wand or something?"

Jace grinned. "Something like that. Watch."

He rolled up the sleeve of his black leather jacket and placed the tip of the object close to his skin. It then lit up as Jace began to burn some kind of symbol onto his forearm, which smoked and even made a searing noise that the tougher than nails warlock actually flinched over with a hissing sound.

"Jace! Oh my god, you're...burning yourself!!"

"It's alright Clover. I'm drawing the rune to show you my underground world per se. It will heal right up in seconds and look merely like a tattoo. Now, look straight ahead."

The old ruins of the church began to transform right before Clover's astonished eyes, into a futuristic world of things she had only ever read about in books. Technology and people were everywhere, mostly dresses like Jace.

"Oh...my...god..." Clover whispered, quite hysterically as she froze solid. "C..can...they...see us?"

Jace bellowed in laughter. "Of course they can see us silly. Come on. I'll show you around and introduce you to the people I call my real family."

"People? they're...humans?"

"Somewhat. They're warlocks and witches, just like me and you, well...minus the vampiness, but still just as powerful." he chuckled.

"So...that little gadget can do all of this? Hide you from the world?" Clover asked as they walked around the digitalized fortress that could have no way fit inside the simple two story church...but it did.

"It can and it can do much much more my lady. Do you remember when I told you I needed this to travel through portals? Well, this will open a portal for us to hit middle earth in 2.1 seconds. If I had had it that day in goblin town, Thranduil would have been eating our dust."

"So, that's what all those symbols are on your body? Runes? I can't believe I called them tattoos when I first met you. But wait...I...I saw one on Josie's neck...at Lestat's? How does she have one? I mean...she's..not your sister."

"She's still blood though. It must have been drawn on her somehow, most likely in a dream, from someone of blood trying to protect her. A rune placed on the neck signifies an intensified angelic power that one of light would wear. I saw it on her too but it was faded or dormant per se. Thing is, I'm pretty sure she knows nothing of what it truly is and I didn't have time to explain it when I had to explain being her brother. Let's just say, she's one super powered witch, even without the rune mark."

"Great...I'm definitely dead when she finds out what I've done."

"Hey, no. I won't let that happen. I'll talk to her, try to explain things on your behalf."

"Oh great, she'll just kill you too then."

"Alright, enough. I said I will keep you safe and I will. I love you Clover. Let's go mingle and what not to waste some time until twilight, then we will zap across the pond."

The castle party continued on into the night despite the earth's shake up and now you were dealing with Catherine's soul stealing glare from across the dance hall as she mingled with her son Francis and his Queen Mary. Still, there was no sign of Stephane. He was either avoiding the entire shindig or simply just..you.

When you returned to the hall and joined Legolas and Leean, Conde' and Lola were dancing once again.

The Lake Town deputy seemed to be smitten with her and possibly she felt the same, although you knew her heart truly lied with Legolas, but he had made it abundantly clear to you that his feelings were not reciprocated, still you tried once more to spark his interest despite the fact he had told you to drop it.

"Leggy. Doesn't Lola look so beautiful in that red velvet dress? You should ask her to dance too."

The blonde elf had always been a spitting image of his father, and in that moment, did he ever as his eyes narrowed and side eyed you.

"I know what you are trying to do. Did I not ask you to relinquish such attempts?"

"Oh, don't be a party pooper Leggy. It's just a simple question and a dance."

"A simple question of entrapment and a dance I would much rather share with you."

You sighed and turned back to Lola who now wandered off with Mary's sister Kenna after her dance ended.

"Well...I suppose you, me and Leean could share a dance?" you offered with a grin as you stared straight ahead, feeling Legolas' eyes burning in your direction.

He happily stood up, cradling Leean in one arm and extending his other to you.

"My lady. May we have this dance?"

"Why yes my lord, we shall."

You took his hand with a sweet smile and he led you to the dance floor and for not one, but two harp filled songs, the three of you danced and twirled as you and Legolas chuckled along with Leeanduil's giggles and coos.

Lola headed for a goblet of wine as Kenna went to converse with Bash. From what you understood from Lola, Kenna used to fool around with the deputy warlock and that is why she tagged along with Francis and Mary. You hoped that Bash's fancy of her would not deter him from going to find Delphine during the night when all turned in form the party.

As Lola was making her way back to you, she caught sight of a vision she wished she could unsee. Narcisse kissing Claude, Catherine's daughter, in a remote corner of the hall. If there was any way to stick it to his wicked ex, and even to you, that was it.

Lola was now between a rock and a hard place, for she knew you should know, but she had no inkling of how to tell you. Her gut was telling her not to, for she did not want to add fuel to the fire that was already burning between you and her employer. Also, she did not want to face Narcisse's wrath if she were found out to be the tattle tale. It would soon turn out though, that Lola wouldn't have to say a word.

The gigantic grandfather clock struck 10 o'clock, echoing through the ballroom and the people were getting more rowdy. You could clearly see that the real party was just beginning and you didn't want Leean around the all the noise.

"Lola, I feel it is time for Leean to turn in for the night. Legolas, would you walk them back to my chambers please?"

There was that side eye again. "Of course, but I will return after my sister is asleep." he duly noted with adamant eyes.

"You...do not want to feed her and tuck her in?" Lola asked, a bit confused.

"No, Lola. I do not. Is that alright with you??" you snapped, not even realizing you had.

"Josie? Are..you alright?" Legolas then asked, in which you huffed, rolled your eyes and walked away.

Legolas reluctantly escorted Lola back to your chambers where she decided to voice her concerns over your behavior that Legolas had already picked up on much earlier.

"Legolas, something...is not right with her. I realize she has been drinking and would not want to breast feed, but it is not like her to not want to put her to bed like she does every night."

"Yes, I would agree with you. I believe the night's earlier events have caused her great worry upon all that she is already suffering. A bottle of Mirkwood's water will be suffice."

"I just feel so bad for her." Lola sympathized. "Mostly everyone she loves is gone. Her King, her dad, Haldir, Garrett, her brother that she found out tonight is not her brother and now learns she has another brother she never knew about and then there's this whole Jareth and Harker ordeal and not to mention Lord Narcisse is also not acting himself. He freed that wretched Catherine which adds to Josie's distress. She was quite upset about something else earlier too and cut her hand on a broken mirror that I believe she herself broke. I just do not know what to do for her Legolas. She's so lost and...I..I love her like a sister that I've never had. She's...she's my best friend and I think she is keeping things from me and...She's done so much for me and I just want to help her and I can't. She won't let me."

Lola shamefully turned from the Prince and began to quietly sob.

Legolas laid Leean down and took Lola's hand.

"Lola...I can see how deeply you care for her. I do as well. All that you said is true, but I know she did not mean to be cruel to you. It's not in her nature, even with all she has endured, which is why I am certain something has happened to cause her behavior. You say she cut her hand?"

Lola's leaking blue eyes peered up into Legolas's and for a split second, he felt something he never deemed possible. Attraction.

"Yes...but...I tended to her wound and...it looked pretty bad. Infected maybe and the healing water...it..it burned her."

Legolas's brows pinched together in confusion and concerned thought. "Burned? It should heal."

Lola fell against his chest in full blown tears. "What is happening Legolas? What can we do??"

The stunned elf froze for a moment, not sure what to do but his instincts, or maybe even unknown desires, quickly took over as he brought his arms up to cradle the fragile crying beauty.

"I..I wish to take her and Leean back home where it is safe, but...that cannot be at this time. It is too dangerous to travel."

Lola sniffled and raised her head to meet his sorrowful moonstones.

"And...me too? She..she said she would take me with her, that I..I was family to her. I mean..if..that is alright with you, since you are now the King of Mirkwood. I..I don't want to be left here alone."

Legolas found his fingers trailing over her tear soaked cheek, like satin to his touch.

"When the time comes, you are more than welcome in my kingdom, lady Lola."

There was a silence and an intense stare that delved into each other's souls and then, a sudden urge perplexed the Prince. An urge to kiss the girl.

As he slowly leaned down to do so, Leean began to cry. Legolas swiftly snapped out of his trance and then backed away with baffled eyes.

"I..I will tend to her. Why don't you relax in a bath to calm you while I do so and when you are finished, I will go tend to her mother as well."

"As you wish Prin..I mean King..Legolas." Lola bashfully stuttered and scurried off with butterflies fluttering through her very soul that she had never known to exist.

Legolas cradled and comforted his baby sister as he fed her and while she suckled, her tiny hand came to touch her big brother's cheek. In that moment, soul to soul, through the windows of their moonstones, Legolas realized what a very powerful Princess Leeanduil would be as he was taken aback by a vision. A vision she had the power to show him. A power unbeknownst to him that she had or could have at such a premature age, for she was only less than 2 months old. A power she possessed to show him things she had seen and also, like you, things that were to come...and the vision was so unsettling, that he swore he would never speak of it. It was of you and your distant future that would change everything as he knew it....as you knew it....as his father knew it.

@redeemer46

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