#legolas request

[edges-of-night]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request something? Fellowship x reader where the reader gets injured in a battle or something and confessed their feelings before passing out… and when they wake up they find out their feelings r returned 🤭 I love ur requests they r so very cute! Thank u!

That was such a lovely request to write, nonnie! I’m really sorry you had to wait for it so long. Also, thank you for your kind words!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Initially, Aragorn would not treat you much differently after your recovery – so much so that you start wondering if you actually confessed your feelings to him or hallucinated that whole part. But all Aragorn wants to do is find the right moment to talk to you. Once he does, he’d gently take your hands in his and tell you how much you mean to him – and that your feelings are in fact reciprocated! Confessing your love first gave him the courage to do the same. “I am not well versed in these fields. But I hope I can show you my heart just as bluntly as you did yours.”

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir would not be around when you wake up. The others tell you he was simply shocked by your passing out and that he needed time to adjust and would be overjoyed to hear you’re fine – but you suspect it would be something else that scared him away. You’d find him pondering in a lone corner, afraid of how he’ll react to seeing you again – only to see his hardened face light up when your eyes meet his – and then he’d rush to kiss you! “I’ve been a fool for not understanding it sooner. Forgive me…!” ♡

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

I like to think that out of the Fellowship, Frodo would be the most mature to handle your love confession. After all, he knows your injuries aren’t lethal and worries not about what happens next, since he is very clear in his own feelings. After you wake up, he greets you with a smile, takes your hand to make sure you’re fine – and lowers his voice to say, “I’ll call the others right away. But before that, I need you to remember the last thing you said to me. I feel the same.” He’d give you the cutest smile, shining all the way up to his blue eyes.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf, being the one who tried to heal you in the moment you passed out, tries ignoring your dramatic love confession and silently urges the others to forget what they overheard. That said, he is very flattered – after all, he’s been enamoured with you for a while now. Still, his romance is quiet and subdued. He’d sit next to you with a smile when you wake up. At first, you thought his behaviour was unchanged – until he ends his sentences toward you with “darling” or “my dear”. There is a playful spark in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know. (Eventually, he would also spell out ‘I love you too’ in fireworks or butterflies!)

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Gimli stays with you during your recovery, guarding your bed day and night, so dutifully that the others need to remind him of eating. Once you wake up, you’d meet his soft eyes, only to watch them harden when you try to speak to him: “Don’t do that again! Ever!” – “What? Talk to you…?” – “Scare me like that!” he corrects, grumbling into his beard. “What’s a lad supposed to do when his sweetheart passes out in his arms?” You smile blissfully as you understand and offer him a hug that Gimli more than eagerly returns!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas is entirely stumped when you pass out after that dramatic “I love you”. There is a frown on his pretty face for the next few hours, waiting for you to wake up again. When you do, you’re terribly embarrassed by the way he’s staring at you through his Elven eyes. He’d fixate you and ask, “Did you mean it? What you said to me?” You’d blush and retort that yes, of course you meant it – and that is enough to make his bright smile and joy return. “What a relief! I feared that if it had been but a fever, my reciprocation would ring false, or sound like a mockery. Please know it’s nothing but the truth!” And he’d take your hands and lean in for a quick and happy kiss!

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

At first, Merry would not believe what he heard just before you passed out. During your recovery, he retreats into dark corners to think and rationalise – people say all kinds of stupid things when they thought they were about to die, right? You couldn’t possibly be in love with him – not when there are so many other people – taller people – all around you. So, imagine his surprise when you do ask him for a private conversation after waking up, to set everything straight. Only Merry doesn’t accept your apology. “What’s there to apologise for? You said what you felt in that moment. It’s not like I didn’t like what I heard, I feel the same, after all…” And then, you both share an ‘oh!’ moment before you laugh and fall into the other’s arms!

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin would initially be overwhelmed by your confession and subsequent passing out. However, he’s positive you’ll be fine, firmly believing that no matter how important, these matters needn’t be so dramatic. He’d treat you as casually as always after your recovery, though you can’t deny there is a spring in his steps and a smile on his face whenever you’re talking. You now know that your feelings are returned, and yet you still blush when he tells you over a shared bowl of strawberries: “I don’t think I’ve told you yet, but I love you, too! Very much so! I’ve thought of a few different pet names to call you, but I wanted to clarify that first. So, just tell me which one you like best…”

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam would not leave your side, no matter how long you were passed out. Whenever someone would try and tear him away, he’d explain that he has something very important to discuss with you when you wake up. He would practice romantic speeches and poems to recite for you, really thinking the whole thing through – only to remain absolutely speechless when your eyes do meet his. After your initial greeting – “Thank goodness you’re alive!” – he’d just hold your hand and ask you to stay with him ♡

#lotr imagine #lotr headcanons #lotr x reader #aragorn x reader #boromir x reader #frodo x reader #gandalf x reader #gimli x reader #legolas x reader #merry x reader #pippin x reader #samwise x reader #* ask #* request #* hurt/comfort #* fluffy #also sidenote: i love love love that giffed moment of sam rushing to frodo's side haha <3

[serendippertyy]

i like when they look like a funny old man and his woodland cryptid bf

#finally back the past week was so horrible but im ok #gotta work on those anon requests but i had to doodle them immediately or i would di e..i lov them #lotr #lord of the rings #legolas #gimli #gimleaf #lotr fanart #digital art #fanart #ibispaint #slay #my art

[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

[shirefantasies]

Hello. Could you do a slightly suggestive physical touch x reader thing like you did with the company but with the fellowship instead. If you don’t want to that’s okay. Thank youuuu

Sure 😊 Warnings: well duh 😜 but relatively minor as always

LoTR Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

Aragorn

✧ Gives the most amazing massages that have you begging him not to stop, especially when you are on the road.

✧ Catches your hand as it roams over his chest, taking it in his and pressing kisses to it.

✧ You slipped some tongue into the last kiss, so it is only fair for him to be doing the same, no?

✧ He knows you love sitting on his lap, yes, but still you are not expecting the way he takes hold of you and sweeps you up onto it with one swift motion…

✧ His hands may be rough, but gentle are they every time they brush and cup your cheeks, tracing their outline.

Legolas

✧ Does not always realize the effect he has. Swipes his thumb across your lips to keep you clean, brows raising and smile creeping onto his face at your resulting expression.

✧ Shivers at the way your nails ghost down his spine, dragging just enough for him to feel each point.

✧ Leans back to meet you in a kiss when you find yourself running your hands over his shoulders.

✧ As if to memorize your form or write it in the very stars, Legolas is slow, intent with his motions as he traces every dip and curve of your body, eyes awed and focused.

✧ Pulls you back from harm by your waist, but cannot resist capturing your lips when he sees the grateful shine of your eyes, so innocent and yet so amorous.

Boromir

✧ Knowing of your love for physical affection gives him so many opportunities to tease you, most of all indulging his love of surprising you from behind, arms winding about you and breath warm in your ear.

✧ When he picks you up and spins you around, his hand may just find its way to give your rear end a playful squeeze as you are lowered.

✧ Training is more fun with you around- suddenly Boromir has all the motivation in the world to do push-ups... on top of you, of course, finding a new spot to kiss each time he comes down.

✧ Playfully and of course lightly sits on you to pin you down, only offering your release in exchange for a kiss.

✧ Boromir indulges your love- if you take him by the side of his face and pepper it with kisses, he will tilt his head and take you for a more passionate one.

Gimli

✧ Spins word upon word of your beauty, yet his voice is stolen completely at the teasing kisses you sneak upon him.

✧ If you’re alone, he has been known to teasingly smack your arse. Just every now and again…

✧ Pulls you down suddenly, almost roughly, to meet his height, noses and foreheads brushing before Gimli is kissing you passionately.

✧ Makes it your problem when his hands get cold, sliding them up your top to startle you!

✧ Tough as he acts, he loves your predisposition to hold him as well, allowing him to nuzzle against your chest and place kisses against anything exposed there. Possibly a nip or two or three...

Frodo

✧ It sends shivers down your spine the way Frodo’s eyes track your every movement, the small action alone feeling a bit like a dare.

✧ A habit of his upon feeling emboldened is placing kisses from the back of your hand up your arm before finally giving your lips a peck.

✧ Of course you know the effect it has on him when you wrap your legs around him- why else would you keep doing it?

✧ You almost think he is about to protest when you tuck your joined hands into the folds of your clothing, but the shy smile Frodo gives you is encouragement enough.

✧ His whole body relaxes when you rub his back, doing anything in your power to comfort him from the ring’s weight, but at times the look in his eyes tells you he is seeking more than comfort…

Sam

✧ Little does he know his flustered expression when your hands roam only encourages you to continue…

✧ Flusters you back by unexpectedly kissing smears of food off your lips, his tongue swiping out to catch anything he’s missed.

✧ He's nearly always holding your hands, whether it's when you're walking or even sitting, then he rests your joined hands upon his lap, sometimes even pulling yours over to him.

✧ If he isn't holding your hand, then his is resting upon your knee or thigh, roaming ever so slightly especially if you are beneath cover of a table.

✧ Jokes that if you don't keep your hands off him, he'll have to feed you by hand, only to realize that's exactly what you want and give in.

Merry

✧ Comes undone at the way you run your hand down his chest, his breath hitching.

✧ Often walks or stands with a hand upon the small of your back, keeping protective but also the optimal position to give your rear end the occasional squeeze!

✧ Buries his face in your neck when you run your fingers through his hair, distracting you with all the kisses he places there.

✧ Comfortable enough to just reach a hand into your pocket for things, maybe keep it there for a bit, too.

✧ Watch out, he often turns pecks on the cheek into full kisses, turning and taking hold of your cheek at the last minute!

Pippin

✧ Grins wider than anything when you pull him into your chest, especially if the height difference is just the right amount.

✧ Takes you to a meadow where you can lay and laugh and roll around to your heart's content; naturally he ends up on top of you, straddling you and gulping as he glances down, tentatively smiling...

✧ Always happy to coat you with kisses- any inch of bare skin he is granted access to is fair game!

✧ Loves the way you keep your bodies casually intertwined, throwing your legs over his or snuggling into him when you lie together, tangling them completely.

✧ Yet another benefit of wearing a scarf? The way you yank him against your body or into kisses by it, always with great fire and fervor.

Faramir

✧ Develops a little habit of slipping his hands into your sleeves, stroking your arm or simply sharing your warmth in a small intertwined moment.

✧ Eyes you with surprise when you pull his head into your chest, but never shall you hear Faramir complain.

✧ His every touch is reverent, grateful at your trust in him and awed at the beautiful dream that is your body before him.

✧ You will know what touches of yours Faramir appreciates most not only by the hitching of his breath, but by the way his hand will capture yours and hold it where it has made its home.

✧ A flush rises to his cheeks when he is laying there sprawled upon his bed with a book and he feels the weight of your body draping atop his and a lazy kiss to his cheek.

Eomer

✧ Makes his home in the hollow between your shoulder and neck, resting his head and pressing his lips against the crook.

✧ Turns instantly to capture your lips passionately the moment you emerge at his side, breath warm upon the shell of his ear.

✧ If you wear a skirt, watch out for Eomer teasingly lifting up the hem with his foot when only he can see, running it up your leg for good measure.

✧ Wide-eyed the first time you tug on his hair as your lips meet, but the look quickly melts into a smirk.

✧ Given your habit of throwing your legs over Eomer’s lap, the marshal has grown used to the weight upon his body, taking the opportunity to show you a bit of love as he caresses your legs.

Eowyn

✧ The way you two teasingly shove and butt at each other sometimes melts seamlessly into makeouts. Neither of you are quite sure how, it just seems to happen.

✧ Relaxes visibly when you run your hand through her golden hair, sending you the most delicious look of pleasure as your hand combs through her tresses and roams to her neck.

✧ Swept up in it the joy of it all, sometimes you’ll catch Eowyn biting your lip gently as you kiss her.

✧ As you tend to walk with your arms linked, every now and again the fancy will take her to fun her hand up and down yours, bringing her nails gently down.

✧ Always tilts her head to give you greater access when you take to kissing her neck.

Haldir

✧ Shoots you the occasional warning look when your hands roam beneath the potential eye of others, but well aware are you that that is simply the manifestation of how flustered you make him. Not above retaliation, Haldir teases you endlessly in your later time away from those prying gazes when he has you all to himself.

✧ Learns your sweet spot, exactly the spot to kiss, and commits it forever to memory.

✧ One of his favorite things about you is the way you seem to seek him, him of all lucky people, for as much as he teases you he cannot deny he loves the way your hands are always darting toward him.

✧ Spreads his legs when he sits, inviting you to rest between them, your head falling against his chest in surrender to his presence.

✧ Having the cover of trees is truly a blessing, for then Haldir can take you on a 'quick patrol' and make out with you behind a massive trunk unseen.

Galadriel

✧ Smirks mischievously, blue eyes glinting, at the way your hand travels up and down her leg.

✧ Takes your hand sometimes only to draw it closer, bring it to a part of her body in silent, awaiting signal.

✧ Like liquid her body melts into yours when you drape your form atop her, feeling her give into you immediately.

✧ You may initiate the kiss, but with a deep chuckle the Lady of Lórien makes quick work of taking control, her tongue dominating yours.

✧ Great is her happiness upon your habitual reach for her arm to walk side by side with her, bringing her hand, wrist, up to your lips.

Elrond

✧ Never fails to show surprise when you yank him in for yet another kiss, hands falling to his chest. Likes to rest his hands over yours in such moments.

✧ Always helps you undress at the end of the day, motions slow and intent as he unlaces and works, eyes boring into yours.

✧ Presses lingering kisses to your bare shoulders.

✧ Always do his lips brush the shell of your ear when Lord Elrond leans in for a private message, especially if it is one to hold onto for the eventide.

✧ Smiles into every kiss you deepen, grip upon your back tightening as he grants you entry, his tongue welcoming yours into a dance.

Arwen

✧ Gets bolder with your encouragement, laying adjacent to you with her head upon your thighs, her favorite cushion of all.

✧ Leans down to place kisses upon them, sometimes traveling up and down as she goes.

✧ Looks up at you with a mix of love and challenge in her eyes when you hover over her lain form, teasing kiss after kiss from you with a single look.

✧ You can't help but let her run her hands down your chest, not when it brings such a smile of satisfaction to her face.

✧ Adoring the way your hands tend to wrap around her, Arwen nuzzles into your cheek, gently rubbing against yours as she enjoys the contact.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #the fellowship of the ring #aragorn #legolas #boromir #gimli #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #faramir #eomer #eowyn #haldir #galadriel #elrond #arwen #ask #anon #requested

[tamurilofrivendell]

🗡 How members of The Fellowship react when reader is cold 🗡

Included Characters: Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf, Sam.

A/N: I haven’t really written some of these characters before so if it’s horrible for my first go at them please forgive me! <33

Aragorn had just finished tending the fire and was looking around the group, making sure everybody was accounted for. His gaze swept over you briefly but returned a moment later, sensing something was a little bit off. He almost immediately realised that you were feeling the chill in the air a little more keenly than others and he immediately crossed the ground towards you, shrugging off his cloak as he did so. Reaching you, Aragorn draped the garment around your shoulders and laid a gentle hand upon your shoulder. “Come.” His voice was gentle and his eyes were kind as he smiled at you. “Bring yourself a little closer to the fire. I would not want you to fall ill.”

Boromir’s attention had been fixed upon Frodo for the past five minutes. From the corner of his eye, he could see the halfling staring into space. His attention was on the ring, Boromir knew it. It was heavy... and Boromir could almost hear it calling out to him. Why? He forced his gaze away when he heard Gimli’s voice breaking through his reverie. He turned his head and that was when he noticed you, and the obvious shiver that you were trying to hide from the rest of the Fellowship. He watched you for a minute or so, making no mention of it, before he finally rose to his feet. Boromir cleared his throat. “I think I shall gather some more kindling for the fire.” He said, deciding not to draw attention to the fact that you were obviously feeling the cold. You would have said something if you wanted it to be noticed - you were always trying to prove yourself, keep up with the rest of them, and he felt for you. Sometimes, despite his father’s sky-high praise and the impossible pedestal he put him up on, Boromir felt a similar sort of way. He stomped off to get the wood, making a mental note to sneak you an extra layer from his pack when he returned.

Legolas had been looking around, keeping a close watch for any dangers that may come upon them. His ears and eyes were keener than those of his companions and he would sense it long before it struck. After a while, he let his gaze move across the others, most asleep by this point, but when his eyes landed on you, you were very obviously still awake. He watched you for a moment, taking in the way you’d curled yourself into a ball, tucking your thin cloak around you as much as you could, the pink tip of your nose an obvious sign of your discomfort. “My friend, are you cold?” Legolas had moved, closing the distance between the two of you, and draped an extra cloak over your body before you even had a chance to respond. He smiled kindly at you and moved to stoke the fire before sitting beside you. “Sleep. We have another long day ahead of us.”

Frodo was tired. He was drained. Like something was dragging him down, down, down, trying to bury him under the ground beneath his feet. He did not think he would have been able to get this far without Sam and without you... no, he didn’t think it... he knew it for a fact. The thought of you both caused his attention to drift away from the ring around his neck, seeking the familiar faces of his best friends. When he found you, huddled beneath a tree at the edge of camp, he frowned. You were shivering. Standing, Frodo walked over to you and wordlessly sat down next to you. He wrapped his arm and his cloak around your shoulders, pulling you closer so you could share his warm garment and also his body heat. He sat with you, heads pressed together, until you no longer needed him.

“I think they’re cold.” Pippin whispered, though not quite as quiet as he was probably attempting to be. Merry frowned at him, glancing over at where you were sitting and then turning back to his friend. “Well, go and ask them.” He nudged the other hobbit. “You ask them!” Pippin insisted, nudging Merry back. “You’re the one who--” Merry was mid-sentence when you cut him off, looking up from your spot with a look of near-amusement in your eyes despite the chill swimming through your very bones. “The two of you have all the subtlety of a cave troll, you know that?” A little abashed, the two hobbits shuffled in place for a few moments, fidgeting. Then they shared a look and both started moving. Merry dug around in his bag, pulling out a long extra cloak that he had stashed somewhere right at the bottom and Pippin ladled a large helping of hot soup into a bowl. They both brought the items to you and held them out. “Maybe you should move closer to the fire?” Merry suggested as you took the soup from Pippin with a little smile.

“C’mon lass/lad.” Gimli urges gruffly when he notices that you’re practically shivering from the cold. He took a puff from his pipe and gestured to the flickering flames of the little fire that they had lit in the centre of tonight’s camp. “Shift yourself closer to the warmth of that fire, c’mon now.”

Has been keeping a close eye on you so he could keep you safe and notices almost right away that you’ve become quieter as you tend with the chill that you’re feeling. Many of the others seem completely fine and it frustrates you but you don’t say a word, not wanting to be any trouble and not wanting to slow anybody down. Gandalf calls your name, bidding you join him at the front. “Come keep an old man company, would you?” You sidle up beside him and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, the large sleeve of his grey cape warming you somewhat all on its own. “Have a puff of this.” He says softly, offering you his pipe. “It will warm you from the inside.”

Sam’s attentions were rather focused upon Frodo. He was concerned about him, he could see so clearly the strain he was feeling, the toll that the ring was taking on him. He wished there was more that he could do but he felt quite helpless. All he knew was that, no matter what, he would not leave him. He had fetched some more water for the rest of the journey and had padded back into the camp when he noticed you sitting with gritted teeth. “Beggin’ your pardon... but you can borrow this if you’d like.” He gestured to the thick looking blanket type thing he had pulled from deep within his pack. “You look like you’ll be needin’ it more than me tonight...” He paused for a moment. “Oh, and I can boil some water and get you a nice hot brew made up if you want?”

#aragorn x reader #legolas x reader #boromir x reader #gandalf x reader #frodo x reader #pippin x reader #merry x reader #gimli x reader #lotr x reader #fellowship x reader #samwise x reader #sam gamgee x reader #requests

[lady-adaneth]

Sleepless Nights ⋆.˚ ⭒₊ .

For those out there struggling to sleep, I present to you...

Synopsis:

An elf from Rivendell, you eagerly joined the fellowship. However, many harrowing months into your journey, you constantly find yourself struggling to sleep.

Maybe a confession and a certain blond elf can help soothe your insomnia...

Legolas x gender-neutral elf!reader

No use of y/n

Prequel to Romantic Inclinations, but can also be read as a one-shot

Want to feel truly immersed? Listen while you read Encampment | Forest Sounds 

Content Warnings:

Spice scale: it’s spicy…but like it could also be spicier

Intimate physical touch + allusions to more

Word Count:

1.5k words

Translation Dictionary:

Meleth Nín = My Love

Mellon Nín = My friend

Aman = Blessed Land

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

On tumultuous nights in which Legolas would undertake watch, the Fellowship and seemingly the entire forest would fall into a deep, weary slumber. Despite dozing constantly during your trek across the foothills, much to Gimli's envy, when day finally welcomed the night your worries continued plaguing your mind. You had laid staring up at the stars, knowing exactly which ones would lead you home to Rivendell. Despite the stick digging into your shoulders, it wasn't the thought of a snug bed and safe fire that tempted you, but rather those that you'd left behind. Before you joined the fellowship, there had been whispers of exodus. In the moment you had been hungry for adventure, ignoring the signs, but what if you'd made a mistake? You couldn't help but picture your kin sailing to the Grey Havens, escaping the torment that kept you from a good night's rest.

"Having trouble?" a kindly voice whispered. You briskly shot up, turning towards the source.

He sat back to a tree, vigilantly carving away at a piece of wood with his dagger. Despite your weapons lying comfortably around you; daggers by your ankle and spear by your side, Legolas's bow and quiver remained strapped to his back.

"Well that can't be comfortable," you teased, imagining the feel of a bow poking into your back. Suddenly you felt better about the stick.

"I could say the same thing about your arrangement," his head pointed towards your spot on the floor, eyes transfixed on his work.

"Hm, touché," you smirked, a pleasant silence falling between you.

The woods were immensely calm; the stridulation of insects a harmonious melody drowned out by a singular frog and its stark croak. The tranquility reflected in your companions, whose soft huffs of air you could hear below the crackling of the firewood. Maybe it was your expansive hearing that kept you from a restful sleep. You suddenly couldn't help but envy your newfound friends. Your thoughts were interrupted by the carving of wood as Legolas began to struggle with a corner, sawing forcefully at the bark.

"And what, exactly, are you making at this ungodly hour?" You stared at him with the corner of your eye, feigning annoyance.

"Wouldn't you like to know," the sawing continued.

"Mhm, what an astute observation" you mocked, standing and taking your place next to him, letting your head rest against the tree's homely bark.

After only a few weeks spent together you and Legolas had become settled in each other's presence. Through all of your teasing, you found it incredibly difficult to find anything about him to dislike. This unnerved you in a way, that is, how effortlessly you felt yourself falling for the princeling.

The silence returned once more, but the sawing had halted. You turned your head, finding Legolas already staring at you. His eyes were fawn-like and the tips of his ears began turning pink. Despite his curious embarrassment at being caught, he didn't shy away.

"What's on your mind?" you can feel your cheeks blossoming as the question leaves your mouth, your effort to prevent the blush only making it worse.

"How about you tell me what's keeping you from a good-night's rest," his eyes shone with genuine concern as he returned to his work. You felt the tension loosening, your playful demeanor returning once more.

"And what do I get for revealing such a thing, Prince?" You crossed your arms as if it could shield your fluttering heart.

"Whatever you want," the string was being pulled tighter once more.

You tried to keep your composure, confused as to how he was flustering you so.

"How about...you tell me what you're carving and why?" His eyes seemed to widen nervously at your proposal, only adding to your curiosity.

"Hmph, deal," he reached out his hand, and you leisurely reached your hand out. His handshake was gentle and his palms sweaty.

"But earnestly, mellon nín, what is plaguing you?" he said softer than before, suddenly aware of the others sleeping around the fire.

A sigh escaped your chest before you even registered it. You never told anyone about your troubles, and yet somehow it felt natural with Legolas. You weren't sure how much to say.

"I just...haven't found my sleep to be restful. Not since we left-," you swallowed hard.

You glanced at him as you attempted to compose yourself, expecting him to encourage you with his words. But he sat silently, knowing present in the depth of his stare.

He silently nodded, urging you to continue speaking.

You continued.

"When we first left, I had no hesitancy. And yet, as we continue, both our struggles here and those at home...trouble me," a breath enters your lungs. "I anticipated that this journey would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. The latter grows more apparent every day," you worried as to his response, and suddenly you found the ground to be rather intriguing. You began sifting the dirt through your fingers, soothing yourself as your cheeks turned red in shame. It was unlike you, let alone any elf, to be so vulnerable with another.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder; urging you to look up. Legolas's face came into view, eyes soft and glowing with firelight.

"I'm glad I am not the only one who feels this uncertainty," he smirked, though his eyes appeared more sorrowful than anything. You breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing all at once.

"We're not meant to lose hope at the prospect of another day not appearing before us-" He halted himself.

"-But, if it's any consolation, I'm glad my last day would be spent amongst all of these wonderful individuals," you chuckled at his words, fighting back a tear. "And if I could visit Aman with anyone...," he paused, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"...I would want it to be with you," his eyes lingered on your face, his demeanor more nervous than you had ever witnessed.

He searched your face for any sign. Disdain, perhaps? Or maybe acceptance.

Your breathing hitched as his eyes dipped down to your lips. Your arms could no longer muffle the sound of your hammering heart.

You were suddenly made aware of the hand on your shoulder, the way Legolas's hair seemed to burn more so than glow, the way his eyes sparkled with moonlight as they looked at you with the reverence of a thousand worshippers.

"Seems we have the same wish," you said quietly. Your words lingered as neither of you moved. Legolas sat motionless, not wanting to back away...or overstep.

You noticed.

Raising your hand to his cheek, you steadily moved your face closer to his. Your lips lingered over his for a second, before you moved back slightly; glimpsing into his eyes, searching for permission, before returning fluidly to his lips.

His lips encompassed your bottom lip gently, before pulling back to look at you. Your heart fluttered as he peered at you with an indescribable sense of wonder; impressing a sense of fey upon him. A smirk appeared on his face as he leaned back into your chest, his lips smashing against yours.

You could feel the string in your heart snap, all semblance of control leaving your body.

His arms wound around the back of your neck, and without a thought you moved your legs around his waist; straddling him as his back was pressed against the tree.

A small grunt escaped his lips as your hips gently made contact with his, the angles of his face sharp beneath your calloused fingertips. He gently pried your hands from his face as his lips trailed down your cheek,

then your jawline-

and then to your barely exposed neck.

You let out an audible gasp as his teeth gently bit into your skin, your hands finding their place in his hair. Legolas began shifting his hips, a pleasurable moan escaping your lips.

"SHHH," the sound emanated from the campfire.

His face leapt away from your neck, searching for the source.

Your hand covered your mouth as you fought back a roaring bout of laughter. Legolas's face was blooming as he held his breath.

Had they heard you? If Gimli had spotted the two of you neither of you would hear the end of it.

You both waited for a moment, searching for any sign of movement amongst your supposedly slumbering friends.

You couldn't believe what just happened. Next time, you resolved to find a more private location.

You let out a sigh, slumping into his chest; arms wounding around his neck as his arms found their way around your waist.

"So...who taught you that," you whispered, giggling to yourself at the thought of his lips on your neck...the claim his teeth had made on your skin.

"A certain, close source, that I shall not divulge," his hot breath lingered on your ear, his voice coarse.

"Hm, so that's how Arwen got those marks,"

"I hope you don't mind, meleth nín,"

"Not in the slightest-" you pulled back slightly, forehead resting against his.

"-I shall wear it like a badge of honor," you kissed him on the forehead.

A certain twinkle shone in Legolas's eyes as he leaned in to kiss the bite mark with enough gentleness to make you cry yet again.

"I think we may awaken the entire forest if we continue," a blush formed on your cheeks.

"Let's get some rest then," he smiled, his cheeks painted crimson at the thought.

You stood slightly, unwinding your legs from his hips. You slid to the floor, resting your head on his now outstretched legs. Without a word, he grabbed the blanket from his side, placing it around your drowsy form.

Legolas began to hum an unfamiliar tune, fingers making lazy strokes across your face. All you could hear was his steady heartbeat and voice, drowning out all else.

Your heart swelled with warmth as you fell asleep in Legolas's arms for the first time.

✩✩✩✩

If you have any criticisms or requests please send them my way! Have a restful day/evening <3

#legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas fluff #Legolas greenleaf fluff #legolas oneshot #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #lotr requests #Legolas x elf!reader #Legolas x gn!reader #Legolas x gn!y/n #gn reader #gn y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #Legolas blurb #legolas x fellowship!reader #sleep fic #insomnia fic #legolas x gnelf!reader #legolas x gn!elf!reader #legolas x gn-elf!reader

[wanderer-clarisse]

some lotr doodles! here's Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn. I've been rereading the trilogy and it's fun getting to visualize the characters on paper!

#reading lotr but I still haven't moved on from the silmarillion if I'm being honest #also i am once again leaving a note here for the peeps who requested drawings! #I'm working on them! sorry it's taking a while. but i'll get there eventual #ly #clarisse doodles #lotr #tolkien #sketches #character design #lord of the rings #boromir #legolas #gimli #aragorn #he looks like he hasn't showered in days and that's always how i've imagined him to look #meanwhile i am trying to make legolas as Friendly as possible because that's the impression I get from him #movie!legolas is cool and all but book!legolas is so. funny. in his weird way #lotr newsletter #lotr doodles

[sotwk]

The Best Gift (Legolas x f!Reader)

Summary: Legolas wishes a "dear friend" a Joyous Begetting Day--but anonymously.

Dedication: For my dearest @quickslvxrr, who has been such a constant and patient supporter. I'm so sorry it took forever to grant such a simple fic request from you. I hope this brings you some joy during rather difficult times. <3

Word count: 1.3k

Rating: General Audience

Content: Fluff, comedy, romance, shy young Legolas, secret pining, brotherly banter, OC Son of Thranduil (Prince Gelir) 

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: LINK

The Best Gift

Third Age 556 June 26th

The Woodland Realm

“What in Araw’s name are you doing?”

Legolas gave a muffled cry and stumbled back a couple of steps, but caught his balance before he could crash into the shrubbery outside the small kitchen window. 

“Get down!” he hissed at his brother Gelir, grabbing the older ellon’s sleeve and yanking him down to the dirt beside him.

His heart racing like frightened deer’s, Legolas listened carefully for changes in the movement within her cottage, any sign that she might have overheard his dolt of a brother’s voice and sought to investigate. Mercifully, the melody of her sweet humming continued to float uninterrupted from the open window. 

“Oh, are you the only one permitted to wish our dear friend a Joyous Begetting?” Gelir smirked and punched him on the shoulder. “If I too had a gift I wished to present to her for the occasion, would you pound me?”

“No!” Legolas blurted out quickly; too quickly. “Wait--have you brought a gift for her?”

“I have not, because I had assumed your answer to that question would be yes. And as little as I fear your wee hits, honeg, I do not particularly enjoy being on the receiving end of them.” 

Gelir shoved the younger prince aside, leapt lightly to his feet, and crept over to peer above the windowsill. Legolas held his breath, despite knowing Gelir would never be seen or heard by any elf, man, or beast if he did not wish for them to. The worrisome issue was the great pleasure his brother seemed to derive from embarrassing him at every open opportunity--something one might assume a grown elf would grow weary of after two and half centuries, but it had yet to happen. 

Thankfully, after an agonizing few seconds, Gelir dropped back down to their hiding spot. “I see you opted for the purple night lilies.” He cocked an eyebrow at Legolas. "I seem to recall Ammë setting certain conditions on the use of the rarest blooms from her garden."

"You recall correctly," said Legolas tersely. All four of his elder brothers were frustratingly knowledgeable of the details of his personal business--a result of the powerful bonds that linked them. But Gelir was easily bored, and the only one to actually stick his nose in for active meddling. "She did not set a time by which I am required to make myself known."

"And is Ammë also aware you have spent--on my guess--at least the last two hours sitting outside this unwitting maid’s window hoping that she would come to some sort of epiphany?”

Legolas thought about the smile that lit up her face so beautifully his entire chest ached, and the way it had stayed on her face the entire time he waited there, content to just observe the joy he had caused. 

“I believe she knows. Or is close to discerning it.” 

“You are right. She must realize eventually that a plant so rare and valuable could only come from a high lord or prince.” Gelir snapped his fingers. “Perhaps I should walk in there and take the credit and her fair heart to boot!”

Legolas jerked his head suddenly. “You wouldn’t!”

“You are right. I would not; that would be wrong.” Gelir leaned in closer, his expression suddenly stern. “But it is just as egregious to carry on as long as you have, making veiled overtures to this lady rather than mustering the courage to speak the truth of your feelings plainly to her face.”

“The pursuit of someone’s affections must be like hunting. When you hunt an animal, you go with the focused intent of finishing the job as quickly as possible. You do not toy with the creature to scare or confuse it and cause it needless pain.” 

Gelir clamped a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “I may not know what it is like to lose my heart in this manner, little brother. But I know it is unfitting that I show greater respect to animals I stalk than you do to someone you profess to love.” 

The sudden outpouring of wisdom from his wise-cracking brother rendered Legolas speechless.  But something on his face must have quelled Gelir’s baser instincts to tease and mock him. 

“Explain your struggle. Where does all your hesitation lie?”

“I…she…” His brother seemed so genuine this time in his desire to help, that the words broke through Legolas’s reluctance to expose his vulnerabilities. “What if she does not feel the same way I do? What if she will not have me?”

“She does and she will.”

“How do you know for certain?”

“Because I have two eyes and I use them,” Gelir said flatly, his patience already worn thin. “Unlike the both of you, evidently, who cannot gaze directly at each other's faces long enough to notice how nauseatingly smitten you are with one another.”

Legolas’s hands curled into tight fists. Against his better instincts, he wanted to believe it. What maiden could refuse a son of the Elvenking if he offered her his heart?

Well, she could, in all likelihood. For what was his title against true beauty and grace such as hers? Why should he be her first choice when she could have anyone in the entirety of Eryn Galen?

“Bah! Enough of this tragic nonsense.” Gelir’s hand around his arm easily tugged the dazed Legolas to his feet.  “I will not let you waste any more time squatting here like a toad. And even toads have the sense to croak and announce their intentions.”

Gelir hooked his arm around his brother’s hunched shoulders and gave him a firm shake. “Perhaps a few bottles from Ada’s cellars might rally those nerves, eh? Come. With any luck,  you can make another go of it before the day’s end.”

As they trudged around the hedges to start the trek back up to the King’s palace, Legolas wrestled with the sense of failure at his retreat. Why could he not be more like his brothers, if not like their father? Afraid of nothing, brimming with confidence to speak their mind to anybody. What was stopping him?

Nobody. Nobody but himself. 

Legolas froze in place so suddenly that Gelir nearly lost his balance. “What--?”

The younger prince turned to squarely face the pathwalk leading back to the cottage, glaring at the bright green door with the intensity of one about to leap across an impossible distance over a deadly chasm. 

“Yessss. Go on!” He distantly heard Gelir hoot as he began his determined stride up the path. 

But then he heard something else. Footsteps. A doorknob turning. 

The color drained from Legolas’s face and his legs turned to lead. He twisted about to scurry away and out of sight, but a pair of powerful hands suddenly seized the back of his tunic, lifting him so that his boot soles left the ground. 

A hard, rough toss pitched the helpless elf to the cottage just as the door swung open. He flailed his arms out to regain his balance and avoid face-planting on the stoop, but not quickly enough to avoid bumping against the maiden that had stepped out of her home. 

“H-Hello.” He gulped down the panic that rose up his chest, as the nearness of her, such as he had never experienced before, enfolded him. Her scent, her warmth, her…touch? Legolas realized that she had raised her hands and planted them firmly against his chest, likely to help break his ungraceful fall. 

“I… uh, I came to wish you… that is…I-I just wanted to say…” Valar, did Gelir’s shove knock his tongue loose from his mouth?!  

“I wished so badly for it to be you!" she suddenly blurted out, and stuck forward her chin in her willful defiance of protocol.

“R-really?” Unexpected joy and relief burst out of Legolas’s chest like a flock of sparrows exploding from a bush.

The sweetest blush rosied her cheeks, but she still had not moved her hands from the front of his tunic, he noticed. “The flowers are the most beautiful present I have ever received, but knowing that what I had hoped for is true, that they came from you… that is really the best gift.”

“I do not believe there is anyone gladder about your begetting than I,” the elf prince avowed.

And as her whole face lit up brighter than Gil-Estel, as she slid her arm through his and guided him into the cottage, Legolas felt the nudge of a distinct sound inside his head: the chuckle of an older brother whom he had just given yet another anecdote to refer to the next time he wanted to crow over being “always right”. 

Elves HC Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @fizzyxcustard @freshalmondpandadonut @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @glassgulls @heilith @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @lemonivall @LiliDurin @quickslvxrr @ratsys @scyllas-revenge @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell

For more SotWK Fanfiction: Fanfiction Masterlist

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

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Fanfiction Request Guidelines

#sotwk fanfiction #legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #legolas thranduilion #fanfic request #legolas #gelir thranduilion #sotwk oc #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #lotr #the hobbit #lotr fanfic

[citrusro]

Baby Legolas doodle? 🥺

ITTY BITTY????? Itty Bitty.

#I was gonna draw BABY baby Leggy #but I thought like #8 year old baby leggy would be cute #art #digital art #my art #sketch #sketch request #Legolas #Tolkien Elf #LOTR

[fantasyworld4ever]

I would like to uno reverse and ask how the elves (yep, all the LOTR/hobbit elves you write for) would react to their s/o keeping them warm, whether it be with a blanket, an extra cloak, or even magically radiating warmth.

LOTR/THE HOBBIT ELVES REACTING TO THEIR S/O WHO GIVE THEM THEIR COAT/BLANKET WHEN ITS COLD.

Elrond

Istg this poor guy will survive the cold for you

You don’t realize it’s cold but when you look over at Elrond he’s quite literally shivering from cold

You quickly deduce that the poor ellon has stayed out simply because you were

You chuckle fondly, finding it sweet as you drape a coat/blanket over him and he blinks at you in surprise

He tries to protest but you glare at him and he shuts up

Thranduil

No, just no. 

This man will refuse to take your coat

Anyway, he wouldn't even be out in the cold

If he finds it cold, there is no way he’s letting you go out

Legolas

Dude does not get cold

Have you seen him running through those snowy places?

Yeah, he's too jumpy to be cold

He will politely reject your coat if you ask though

Lindir

This poor sweet innocent baby 😭

He won’t wait for you to offer it, he’s gonna just grab it then apologize as he wraps himself in it

Literally freezing

He’ll be okay, he snuggles against you for extra warmth

Haldir

Dude patrols borders, he’s used to it

May actually fall asleep standing up in the cold

You just wrap the blanket around him and he’ll stir slightly

Poor bby, he’s so tired

He’ll hold you tight, swaddling you in the blanket too

Glorfindel

He will snatch your blanket quicker than you can say his name

He’ll apologize but he aint sorry at all

He is COLD.

Let him have the damn blanket xD

Feren

Sweet bby

He won’t say anything even if the air is a bit chilly

He’ll do his best to hide it but you soon realize just how cold he is

“Thank you, meleth.” He’ll smile at you as you drape the blanket over his shoulders but insists you both share it

Figwit

“My lady/lord, it’s cold” He’ll comment on the chilliness of the air as you stroll through the garden

No matter how many times you tell him to call you your name he will insist on using your title in public

When you give him your coat he looks surprised and tries to protest but soon gives in, wrapping it around himself

“Thank you, meleth…” He’ll whisper, his ears red

{Thanks for the request and hope it lives up to your expectations! Apologies for the wait. And as always, my inbox is open!}

#requests #lotr #the hobbit #elves #figwit #thranduil #legolas #feren #lindir #elrond peredhel #glorfindel #haldir #x reader #gender neutral reader #fluff

[thelien-art]

pride request: Gigolas + queerplatonic flag!

Them⁓ 

🏳️‍🌈CELEBRATE PRIDE WITH ME🏳️‍🌈 - send in a character or a ship with a pride flag and I´ll draw it

#lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #jrr tolkien #gimli #gimli son of gloin #legolas #legolas greenleaf #gigolas #lotr art #tolkien art #my art #digital art #pride requests #lgbtq+ #lgbtqia #queerplatonic

[autistook]

Requested by @beawritingbooks

Legolas, Éomer & Gimli | The Return of the King

#thank you for this request lol #lotr #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #legolas #gimli #legolas greenleaf #eomer #Éomer #gimli son of gloin #the return of the king #rotk #return of the king #lotr scene #lotr gif #orlando bloom #john rhys davies #karl urban #frodo #samwise #pippin #merry #gandalf

[strawwritesfic]

Legolas x Female!Elf!Reader: Adore

Summary: Gimli had better just get used to the fact that he’ll never understand Legolas completely. 

Rating/Tags: All (Gimli & Legolas; post-Return of the King; Mirkwood Elven Guard!Reader; some lingering Dwarves vs. Elves tension; pipe smoking)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Adore

Good was finally ending one long, uncertain journey to start another with a certain end. Better was a journey of companionship and seeing sights one could not rest for on the first. Better yet was being an honored guest in your companion’s home where your kin had once been prisoners and little else. Still, Gimli felt, one could grow tired of elves–and dwarves could grow tired of them more quickly than anyone, warm welcome or no. Better than all the rest was quiet, stars peeking through the Mirkwood trees, and a chance to get at his pipe.

Legolas’s feast would continue on for many hours more. No one could celebrate like his people. For all Gimli knew, he could rest for the next night and day and wake to continued revelry. There would be time enough for him to return. 

Gimli settled himself comfortably against the base a wide tree trunk to smoke at his leisure. He took his first breath in of sweet-smelling smoke and was in the process of blowing it in rings toward the leaves above his head when a slender figure stepped silently past him into the nearby clearing. Eyeing the figure's back, Gimli wondered if Legolas realized that he was there. The sound of singing continued in the distance behind them, but Legolas’s back was to the celebration, his head turned up to watch the sky.

Five minutes of that, and Gimli decided he had had more than enough. Patient dwarves might have been, but friends had no need to be patient with the sudden oddities of a friend. He cleared his throat. 

“Do you plan to join me, or do you intend to stand there like an Ent for the rest of the night?” Gimli asked.

Legolas made no sign that he had heard. 

Snorting, Gimli put his pipe back in his mouth. Now that he thought about it, this behavior of Legolas’s was nothing new. They had left Gimli’s family in high spirits, but as the road wound on toward Mirkwood, Legolas grew more and more introspective. The silent rides atop their horse had nearly driven Gimli to insanity, but he had hoped that coming home would lift his friend’s spirits. Clearly nothing had happened except to make Legolas seem less communicative than ever. 

Gimli ran a hand down his beard. Perhaps going back to the food would not be so bad. It would save him sitting there worrying fruitlessly over Legolas.

Just as Gimli made to put out his pipe, Legolas turned, stepping again toward the feast. Then his eyes fell on Gimli. Gimli blinked once at him. Whatever Legolas was thinking about, he did not want to share it with him. The elf blinked back, and his lips pulled up into a vague smile. He changed direction and soon was close enough for Gimli to touch.

“I had not realized you had left the celebration already,” Legolas said.

Gimli only squinted in reply. Was Legolas so truly out of sorts that he had missed Gimli entirely? Had Gimli been more familiar with any elf other than this one, he might have spoken with one of those here of his concern. As it was, all he could assume was that this was normal behavior for an elf and that coming home had turned Legolas more normal somehow.

“Aye,” Gimli answered gruffly. “I had thought my greeting five minutes past would have been enough warning for you, but I suppose you might have got into a bit of that Elvish wine.”

To his great surprise, the wan smile on Legolas’ face faded further. His eyes turned again to the stars. “Forgive me, my friend. My thoughts are elsewhere.”

This did not entirely discount Gimli’s suggestion that Legolas was simply drunk. Really, though, that would not explain Legolas’s silence over the many miles. Wherever his thoughts were still, Gimli was not wanted.

“Blasted elf,” he grumbled, though there was some good-nature in his tone, for at least Legolas was sorry. Mirkwood had not reclaimed him so much that they were no longer friends. “How about you tell me where your thoughts have been for the past fortnight? Perhaps that will make me more inclined to forgive you.”

“The past fortnight?” Legolas repeated. Gimli was pleased to see that this had at least got Legolas’s attention back to present. Legolas blinked again, then he let out a small sigh. “My thoughts are ever elsewhere, I suppose.”

“That is not an answer, of which you are well aware.”

“I am.” Another sigh. Though Gimli would not admit it, his attention was piqued. In all their time of knowing each other, Legolas had never acted in such a manner. “I am sorry, Gimli. I have been worried about returning here for so long that I did not realize that you had noticed my concern.”

“Concern about what? Either tell me or do not. So long as I can rest this evening knowing you will be leaving this place with me in due time, so much the better.”

Legolas’s smile turned sad. He did not look away this time, yet Gimli felt somehow that Legolas was no longer looking at him but rather through him. 

“What good does it do to dwell on that which will not be?” Legolas asked. “It only makes the absence that much more apparent, speaking of it more so to those who were otherwise ignorant of the absence to begin with.”

“The absence of what, pray tell?” 

It rankled, Gimli realized, knowing that Legolas wanted to keep secrets even after all this time. There had been no holding back during their visit to Gimli’s family. Legolas had been treated just as a dwarf, a dwarf prince even. Gimli had been treated well by Legolas' family, too, but he hardly cared about the niceties of elves when there was only one elf he truly cared about remaining in Middle Earth. 

“Spit it out, Legolas! Have we not been together long enough to speak frankly to one another?” he said.

“I do not mean to keep you in the dark. It is only that I received bad tidings from my father this night. I fear that coming home might have done me more harm than good. There is but one thing I hoped for on the way here, and now I know there is no chance of it happening.”

“You are more difficult to interrogate than an orc!” Gimli bemoaned. He threw up his hands in defeat. A long night of singing it was. “Keep your secrets, Legolas. I need them not. I only hope that you will be back to your old self by the time we make ready to leave.”

Legolas smiled a bit more sincerely at that. “I do not intend to speak in riddles, Gimli. It is only that–”

A snapping branch interrupted him. 

Gimli’s hand went straight to the ax at his hip, but Legolas was even faster, his bow strung and arrow drawn before the sound came again, louder and faster. There were still elves close by, but this was closer, and not everything in Mirkwood could have been fixed by Frodo and Gollum’s deed. 

Gimli could hear Legolas breathing in the dark; his own breath sounded too loud in his ears. They stood together like that for several minutes, ears straining as the snapping condensed into swift footsteps. A straggler rushing to the party?

No. Just when Gimli thought that danger might be upon them, a young woman burst into their clearing. She was so out of breath, so obviously exhausted, that it took him half a minute to realize that she was an elf. Thankfully, it took him less time to understand the look Legolas gave her–and therefore the whole of Legolas’s behavior this night and those before. The bow fell immediately to Legolas side, and there was something in his gaze that Gimli had never seen before.

“[Name],” Legolas breathed.

There were many odd things about this elf. Never had Gimli seen one so tired, not even Legolas after taking down an Oliphant. Stranger than this, however, was your reaction to Legolas. Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but at the same time, you lifted one hand to your mouth.

“Legolas?” you asked.

Legolas joined you in a single bound, leaving Gimli to stand on his own once more. This time, Gimli did not feel the faint burning of frustration in his veins. No, this time Gimli felt nothing but amused. He hid a smile in his beard as he leaned back against his tree. He had not been sent away, after all, and this was something he most certainly wanted to see.

“My father told me that you were away on patrol, too far away to get here in any short time,” Legolas said in a soft voice.

You stood just a little away, as though frozen to the spot. When Legolas continued to look at you expectantly, you looked down for one moment before looking back up at him. 

“I was,” you admitted, then: “I am. They told me you were here, and I…ran.”

That much, Gimli felt, was obvious. 

Perhaps Legolas did not feel it was so, because he lifted a hand to gently cup the side of your face. “You’re warm."

“I ran as swiftly as I could.”

Legolas let out a soft laugh. 

Laugh? To think that all this time, Legolas was mooning over some woman in the forest. Gimli did not know whether to be annoyed or entertained. Both, he decided in short order--short enough order, in fact, that you and Legolas were still busy staring at each other in the dim starlight by the time Gimli had come to his conclusion.

“Does my father know you’re here?” Legolas asked.

“No, and there are so few of us left to look after the border. I should not have left, but–I had to see you.”

Legolas beamed. 

What could Gimli do but clear his throat? Much more of this presentation and he was likely to fall ill. Thranduil would not take that kindly, he was sure. 

The two of you practically leaped apart at Gimli’s interruption, though to both your credits, each of you recovered quickly enough. The familiar crease of the brow that appeared whenever Gimli first met an elf appeared on yours as well. This smoothed away as Legolas stepped over to him. Gimli suspected shock, as was common when anyone came to know if his and Legolas' companionship.

“[Name]," Legolas said, placing a light hand on Gimli's shoulder, "this is Gimli, son of Glóin. He is my closest friend, and it is to him that any thanks are owed for my safe return.”

Frowning, you looked first at Gimli, then slowly returned your gaze to Legolas’ face. Gimli expected it to stay there, but soon you were looking at him again. Then you inclined your head toward him. “Thank you, Gimli. For keeping him safe when I could not follow to do so.”

“My pleasure, Lady [Name], and it is a further pleasure to know of your existence.” 

It was Gimli’s turn to grin. His doing so made Legolas smile as well. It was a nice change from the consistent frown he had worn of late. You simply threw Legolas an appraising look and came nearer to take his hand. 

“He needs looking after, this one. I appreciate any help that you are willing to give,” Gimli added.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Legolas beat you to it. Unsurprisingly, his attention was elsewhere once more: “You said my father does not know that you are here,” he said, leaning closer to your face. “If you were to join us, he would know for sure. I would hate to subject you to his displeasure, and yet…”

Gimli could tell Legolas wanted to leave his welcoming party. Well, it was not as though Gimli could not sympathize. He hated to be left alone with Legolas’s friends and family, but this seemed a more important reason to run off. 

With a shake of his head, Gimli waved you and Legolas toward the deeper recesses of the forest. “Go on. I shall make your excuses for you.”

There was the briefest return of Legolas’ smile. “Thank you, Gimli.”

You two did not wait for him to wave you away a second time. Gimli watched until you disappeared into the tree boughs across the way. As he turned back to the feast behind, it was with a considerable weight gone from his shoulders. Legolas would be fine. Furthermore, if–and Gimli certainly hoped it so–you joined them as they headed onward toward the sea, maybe you would prove better at conversation than Legolas had proved to be.

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #one shot #challenge fic #request #lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings reader insert #legolas reader insert #lotr reader insert

[shirefantasies]

the fellowship and how they would comfort you after a nightmare

Sure thing! This is such a cute idea I love it 🥺 no detail is given about the nature of the nightmare, so it’s pretty fluffy & open to interpretation 🥰

How The Fellowship Comforts You After a Nightmare

Aragorn

A pair of hands catch you about the waist. “Careful, beloved, you almost fell,” a deep voice whispers. Aragorn. You start despite the comforting voice, and he notices. Fixing you with a look of concern, he nods encouragingly, letting you speak; you tell him it was a nightmare. “What happened?” He asks, and he listens with great interest as you describe what you saw, what your mind forced you to experience. “The night can be false,” he tells you, moving so close you can feel his breath upon your ear, “bringing forth our greatest fears. But I am here with you in its darkness.” Nodding, you give a small smile as he takes your hands. “Come here,” he beckons, and acquiescing he tucks you into him, your back against his chest and his arm draped over you protectively.

Legolas

“Come." You hear Legolas before you see him, feel the way he reaches for you. Fingers intertwine with yours and shakily you reciprocate the grip. He raises you gently to a seated position, holding you lightly about the waist as you rotate in tandem. You’re facing the window, you realize, looking out into the night. “The stars,” Legolas breathes, “ever have they provided us with hope and comfort. They are looking out for us.” Mystic as his words are, you cannot help but admit that focusing on the distant, twinkling lights is calming, especially in Legolas’s arms. Silently, you nod. Legolas peers down at you thoughtfully before speaking again, pointing out stars and constellations until you are lulled into a much more peaceful sleep.

Boromir

A tear slides down your cheek, but before the lines to reality are fully crossed you feel a hand caress you, wipe the droplet gently. “What ever is the matter?” A voice you would recognize anywhere: Boromir. Before you can speak you’re latching onto him. Stroking the crown of your head, he questions again, this time asking if you are all right. “I will be,” you answer shakily. His lips fall to yours, firmly but with a sense of care, of loving. “Good. You have me until then, and, I’m afraid, long after that, too,” he jokes, pulling you closer. “That means more than you could ever know,” you mutter, nuzzling into his neck and giving in when he shifts to his back, your body draped over his like a warm blanket.

Gimli

Gasping and shooting upward, you are met with a shout that has you exclaiming as well, heart thundering in your chest. Suddenly, looking as though he’s been slapped, Gimli reaches for your hand, taking it in both of his. “Whatever is the matter, my jewel?” You cannot help cracking a feeble smile at his words of endearment even through the involuntary terror you’d awoken to. You apologize, tell him a nightmare had taken you. “Not if I have anything to say about it!” Gimli retorts. “Does it realize who it is up against?” Cue your beloved dwarf highlighting every amazing thing about you, from your beauty to your fighting spirit to simply poetry, all the wonderful things in this world you remind him of. “So if some dream thinks it can take you, it is sorely mistaken,” he concludes, looking satisfied at the upward tug of your lips, the bashful way your head falls against his chest.

Frodo

Stirs with immediate knowledge and understanding of what you are going through, having experienced it many times himself. No words are necessary, only the small, sad nod you share. Frodo's hand immediately trails up and down your arm, spreading grounding warmth across your skin. Your head falls back against his chest in defeat and with a deep breath, he pulls you flush against him, lips pressing against the crown of your head. Frodo never demands words, but listens with deep thoughtfulness if you wish to volunteer them and even shares any similarities in his so you know you are not alone. Especially if any of them embody your worst intrusive thoughts, the hardest things to share aloud. He only feels comfortable sharing the events of his own nightmares because of this dark bond you share, but seeing your face and feeling the caress of your hand upon his cheek is all it takes to cast a light back into his eyes, one that sparks the same for you.

Sam

Sam’s hold upon you is the first awareness you achieve as you are thrust back into reality, your eyelashes fluttering as you make out his form. The moment tension fades from your body, he’s pulling you into him, rocking you gently and running his hand through or over your hair. “Sam, I’m sorry -” “Shhh,” he soothes, smiling gently, almost tearfully, “there’s no need. There’s no need at all. Let’s just stay here.” At your nod, he rests his chin atop your head and tucks your bodies as close into each other as possible, limbs fitting together like puzzle pieces. The last sensation you remember before drifting off to sleep is Sam’s lips lightly pressed against your cheek.

Merry

A gasp alerts Merry to your plight, sending him shooting up into a seated position, looking around the room with concern before his eyes fall sympathetically to you. “Bad dream?” His voice is quiet, hoarse from lack of use. You just nod. “Well that won’t do,” he shoots back, sitting up further and extending a hand. Shakily you take it and are pulled up at his side, an arm slung around your shoulders. “In the Brandybuck household, bad dreams mean storytime,” he tells you with a growing smile, “so your choice. Family legend or embarrassing Pippin story?” You feel your lips curling upward, visions of your nightmare already fading. “Embarrassing Pippin story.” “Great choice! So this one time…well, we’d had one too many tankards, I’ll confess, but I was well until Pippin…”

Pippin

Does not wake up at your first stirring, but as you shift you feel his body move alongside you, turning to face your way. “Are you all right?" He whispers when you fall into his gaze, distress clear upon your face that you both feel and see mirrored in his. “Nightmare,” is all you have to whisper before you’re wrapped up completely in Pippin’s embrace, his legs tangling with yours as his arms wind around you. A smile breaks through on your face when you feel him nuzzle into you with his nose, leading you to snuggle in closer against his soft curls. “I’m always going to be here for you,” you hear him whisper, feel his warm breath as he speaks, “always.”

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#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #the fellowship of the ring #aragorn #legolas #boromir #gimli #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #ask #anon #requested

[minaturefics]

Sweet Summers

Request: I’m happy to hear your requests are open! Your writing is incredible! ^^ I have a Legolas x human!reader request if that’s okay. ^^’ One that takes place in between the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings when Legolas traveled with Aragorn after leaving Mirkwood- Legolas and Aragorn stop to stay at a village during a summer festival, Legolas’ first time being at a celebration outside of Mirkwood. During the festival, he sees Reader dancing along with the music and they spend time together before Legolas leaves with Aragorn. Times passes and during the celebration of winning the war, he once again sees Reader dancing to the live music.

A/N: Helllooooooo! Sorry this took like three months but it's here now! First one back since I've been on holiday so I feel a bit rusty but hopefully it's still enjoyable, even after such a long wait. Thank you for your patience! (also idk how it ended up so long but here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Legolas x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

No content warnings

5k words

---

You wandered into the village square, taking in the merry scene before you. The entire square was alight with torches and lanterns, and colourful bunting was strung up between the posts. A quartet of musicians were setting up off to the side, and shopkeepers arranged their wares on the tables on the edges of the square. The night was warm and balmy, and the smell of roasted meat and sweet baked goods wafted around the village. 

You nodded at the people you passed and dodged the squealing children running around. You paused by one of the stands, surveying the assortment of desserts. Creamy cheesecake and glistening fruit tarts, sugar coated funnel cakes and raisin biscuits. 

“Do you want any of them, sweetheart?” Dera asked with a grin, her wrinkled eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’ll even throw in some gossip for free.”

“Perhaps a funnel cake,” you said, and placed a couple of coins on the table. She handed it over to you and you took a bite. It was still warm, the sugar melting on your tongue, and you hummed in appreciation. “Now what news do you have?”

“A couple of outsiders wandered into the village today. An elf and a man, they said, staying at the inn.”

A man was not anything novel. Men wandered through the village frequently, stopping by your village near the Merling Stream before continuing into Rohan or Gondor, but an elf was a rare thing. And a man and an elf together, rarer still. “Did they mention their business?”

She shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. “Just passin’ through, they said, but no one here believes that. They aren’t merchants, not with those bows and swords, and they don’t look like the beacon wardens. ”

“Will they be coming to the festival?” You took another bite of the funnel cake, licking the sugar from your lips. 

She shrugged. “I know some people are hopin’ they will. Mighty good looking, they are, ‘specially the elf.”

“Rich?” You smirked.

Dera laughed. “Always thinking about coin. There are other things in life.”

You glanced at your hands, eyeing the small nicks and scrapes that littered your fingers. Woodcarving had been a way to sustain yourself; it neither required you to toil in the fields or to fight the orcs and beasts in the wilds. You thought of the baskets of wooden figurines and dolls, the stacks of cutlery and bowls in your cottage.“Perhaps I should have set up a stall myself.”

“You work hard enough as it is, child. Tonight, we enjoy!” She shooed you with her hands. “Off you go, looks like they are ready to begin.”

The quartet struck up a merry tune, the rich sound of the fiddle dancing with the quick notes of the flute, and people began to flock to the centre. Dera nudged your shoulder and you joined the crowd gathering at the edges of the square. The beat of the drum resonated, amplified by the claps of the crowd, and you felt your feet tap in time. You watched the dancers, their smooth movements, their wide smiles. 

You thumbed the small carved deer in your pocket. Should you go and join them? It had been such a long time since you danced. 

The dancers began to link their hands together, pulling in members of the crowd. One of the girls, the daughter of the butcher, yanked on your arm and you spun into the fold. She held fast, flashing a grin at you, and the next person grasped your hand. There was no choice but to continue with them, kicking your legs in the fancy footwork pattern of the song and rotating with the pound of the drums.

Your eyes fluttered shut, trusting your feet and the pull of the dancers to lead you on. The flute trilled, the lyre harp fluttered. The cobblestones slipped under your feet and the breeze rushed through your hair. Your muscles burned a little and your breaths grew shorter. Laughter rose in your chest and burst from your lips. Round and round you went, until the song finished with a strong drum beat. 

Your eyes snapped open into a pair of soft brown eyes. 

You stepped back, chest heaving, and blinked at the man. He was tall and slim, and clad in a simple green tunic and trousers. 

“Apologies,” you said, “I must have lost myself in the music.”

He tipped his head to the side, a smile tugging on his lips. “It is a lovely sight, to see another so wholly lost in such a joy.”

His light blonde hair glowed golden in the lantern light, and your breath hitched at the sight of his pointed ears. An elf. The elf. Your heart sped up in your chest. The murmurs around you grew, and you could feel the eyes of others trailed on you. 

You gaped at him before shaking your head and offering him a small smile. “Are you… enjoying the summer festival, sir?”

“It is different to what I am used to but I am more curious than I am uncomfortable.” You chuckled at his honest words. “The music is more lively, the dancing more free in a way.”

The scent of something sweet in the air caught your attention and you thought of Dera. “Have you tried the food yet?”

He arched an eyebrow. “We supped at the inn before we came.”

You shook your head. “If you are to truly experience our summer festival, you must try Dera’s cakes.”

His eyes scanned the square. “And where may I find this Dera?”

“I shall lead you to her, I am in need of another sweet treat.”

You started off in the direction of Dera’s stall and the crowd parted, their eyes fixed on the elf behind you. The quartet started up again, the strum of the lyre harp echoing through the air, and the crowd’s attention drifted back to the dancing. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheeks, willing your heated skin to cool, and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your sticky forehead. 

Dera’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and the elf and she grinned at him. “Now what can I get you, sweetheart? First time at a summer festival?”

He gave her an easy smile and scanned her table. “What would you recommend? I am unfamiliar with some of the food of men.”

Dera pointed at the funnel cake and the berry tart. “These two are a good start. Where is your friend? First time at a festival and he left you on your own.”

“He has some business to attend to.” The elf counted some coins in his palm, inspecting the currency. “I believe this should be enough.”

Dera handed the treats over to him and smiled. “Well, since you are without a guide, I offer my young friend here.” 

Your eyes widened. “Dera—”

He smiled at you, eyes bright with delight. “Wonderful, I thank you very much. I am Legolas Greenleaf, though you may call me Legolas.” Dera introduced herself and you muttered your name at him. 

He glanced down at the treats in his hands and Dera took the opportunity to wink at you. “Well, no eatin’ in front of my stall young man. Go off then and find somewhere.”

He looked at you, waiting for you to speak, and you glanced at the couple weathered stone benches on the outskirts of the square. “We can sit there and not be disturbed. I do not think you appreciate the looks my village has given you so far.”

You started for the bench and he fell in step. “I am used to such looks. My companion and I, Aragorn, have been to other settlements before this.”

He sat down next to you and took a tentative bite of the tart. His brows drew together for a moment as he chewed, before his expression smoothed out. “This is quite delicious. What is this yellow cream?”

You chuckled. “It’s custard. Do elf folk not have custard?”

“No, or at least, not in such a manner. I shall have to speak to my father about this. I’m sure the kitchens would be able to imitate it.”

Your eyebrows rose. The kitchens? Why did he speak as though he was some high born? You took him in, his smooth unblemished skin, the cut of his jaw, the quality of the fabric of his tunic. He certainly didn’t look common, but perhaps even the lowest of elves had the air of nobility compared to men. How distant the elves seemed. There were always stories, of course, but how much truth was held in them?

“Legolas,” you said, and he looked up from his tart. “If I may, what is your homeland like? I have heard little of the realm of elves.”

“I hail from Mirkwood in the north. There it is green and lush, where the trees grow into each other and moss carpets the floor. The south of the forest has since fallen into shadow, but there are parts of it that remain untouched.”

You could picture it, the light streaming through the canopy, the rustle of life among the shrubs. “And what do you think of the land of men?”

He finished the tart and started on the funnel cake, humming in pleasure. Crystals of sugar clung to his lips, and your eyes lingered on the pale pink of them. “It is strange, but also wonderful. There seems to be a rush, almost an urgency about the way humans live. A fervour, perhaps, for life.”

You barked out a laugh and shook your head. “We do not have the luxury of immortality. We must make the most of our days while we can.”

A frown crossed his face. “But we have passed so many settlements where I see humans suffer. There is hunger and struggle, there is pain and conflict.”

“Yes, but there is also joy.” You gestured to the crowd at the square, tilting your head up to capture the melodious notes ringing in the air. “And we relish these moments, perhaps because of the very nature of our mortality.”

He considered your words, chewing. “I suppose if one could only eat a finite number of funnel cakes in one’s life, one would seek to savour each of them.”

You nodded. “And we humans have found excuses to celebrate with each other where we can. Birthdays and holidays, the beginning and end of each season. Maybe this is how we cope, to know that despite how short our lives are, we have mattered to another, that we have shared something beautiful together.”

He looked down at the remains of his funnel cake. “Even for something as simple as sharing the joy of a sweet treat?”

You laughed. “Especially for something like a sweet treat.”He finished the last of the cake and leaned back on his arms, staring out at the square with a content smile on his face. “Tell me stories of your kin. It is not everyday that I meet an elf.”

His brown eyes brightened and he nodded. He told you of their festival celebrating the stars, how they would sing and their voices would echo into the night, how the lakes would reflect the endless starlight. He told you about how he used to wander off as a child to explore the forest, how he would nestle himself between the great roots of a tree and feel the life humming under his touch. 

He looked young, but there was something so old about his words, longing and lingering, sighing and wistful, like the elders of the village. The clouds shifted, revealing the moon, and for a moment he was bathed in the silvery light. It outlined his handsome features, the long line of his limbs. Your heart sped up. And then it wrenched in your chest. 

This was only a moment in time, a fraction of his lifespan. You would remember him for the rest of your days, a glowing, glittering night in your memory, a dream, but he would most likely forget you.

“Are you alright, my friend?” Legolas tilted his head at you. “It seems you have gone somewhere else.”

“I was simply thinking it is a lovely night.”

“Indeed.” He smiled. “It was lucky that we were here tonight. My friend and I will have to leave the towns and cities for some time. I do not believe I shall encounter another festival any time soon.”

You shifted and the wooden deer in your pocket jabbed into your thigh. You felt for it in your pocket. “Would you… care for a souvenir of sorts? Something to remind yourself of tonight?”

He nodded slowly. “Though all the stalls are selling food.”

You offered the deer to him, the figurine small in your hand. He reached for it, his fingers brushing your palm, and your breath caught in your throat. Such smooth skin, warm and gentle. 

He held it to the light, turning it in his hand as his smile grew. “Did you carve this?”

“I did. I usually carry one or two of them, for the children.”

His eyes grew troubled for a moment. “I would hate to deprive a young one of such a charming thing.”

You shook your head. “I have others. Keep it, if you wish.”

He smiled at you, soft and slow. “You have my thanks. I shall treasure this.”

--

Legolas leaned back against the rough bark of the tree and stretched his legs out. The fire was little more than glowing charcoal and a few burning twigs. Aragron was asleep a few paces away, rolled up in his cloak and curled around himself. The browning leaves on the tree rustled as a cool breeze drifted through the small clearing. Somewhere an owl hooted. 

He pulled the carved deer you had given him from his pocket, twisting it in his hand. The low light caught the edges of your delicate strokes, picking out the texture of its fur. He imagined your hands working at the wood, dust covered and callused, careful and skilled. When your fingers had brushed his that evening a warmth had lingered on his skin. Elves always ran cooler than humans and it felt as though your touch had seared him. 

You had been so captivating in the blazing light of the lanterns, dancing with an abandon so foreign to him. It was as though the music was a part of you, moving through your limbs and lifting your heels. How wild, how beautiful. 

That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous. He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face, the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side. You reminded him of some of the old fables and tales, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence. 

And your words. They would not stop echoing in his mind. You were young, only a fraction of his lifespan, and yet there was something ancient about the way you spoke. He had always pitied humans for their short years but your words had made him wonder. Was he, an elf, missing out on some fundamental experience by being immortal?

That evening he was so close to asking you to… to wait for him, or something fanciful like that. A year or two while he went off with Aragorn, hunting the orcs, watching the Enemy. But a year or two was no mere ask for a human, whose life would sweep past them before they realised. He could not ask that of you,to rob you of a chance of finding another who could bring you happiness in those years.

The thought of another lacing their hands with you, drawing you close, made his heart clench. There might even be the chance that you had forgotten him. It was only an evening together, conversing to the backdrop of merry music. You must have had dozens of festivals in your life. It was probably nothing more than another to you. He was probably no more special than another passing traveller. He sighed and pocketed the deer.

Aragorn shifted and squinted over his shoulder. “Is anything the matter, my friend? I sense an unease in you.”

“Do men pity us elves?”

Aragorn considered the question, his eyes drifting to the weak fire. “I think that a great many of them envy your kind. Why do you ask?”

“I have always believed that no other could revere life as we do because of our endless life spans. But now I wonder if perhaps we do not fully understand life because of it. That perhaps we cannot comprehend it without death as a counterpoint.”

“Men and elves have different ways of life, and of celebrating it. It does not mean one is better than another.” Aragorn twisted to fully face Legolas. “What has brought such thoughts to your mind?”

“Someone at the summer festival.”

“That was over a year ago.” Aragorn arched his brow. “They must have been quite a person to weigh so heavily on you after such a time.”

Legolas nodded. “But I do not believe I shall see them again. The Enemy is growing stronger each day. I can feel it. I fear a great many battles are ahead of us.”

“That village by the river is not far off from our scouting route. We can pass through if you wish.”

“No,” he said, and closed his eyes. It would be better if he did not lay his eyes on you again. Better if he put you out of his mind. What good would it do to dwell on something beyond his grasp? “No. Our errand at hand cannot afford delay.”

--

You smoothed down your hair and tucked a carved robin into your pocket. Outside, people hurried past your modest shop front towards the upper circles of Minas Tirith. You swept your eyes over the counters and shelves, ensuring everything was arranged and prepared for the next morning, before stepping out and locking the door. The sweet scent of honeysuckle and lavender perfumed the city, wafting down from the blooming gardens in the higher circles. A distant drum beat above the excited chatter of the citizens and you joined the crowd headed towards the music. 

 The warm evening air, the faint leaping trills of the flute, the weight of a carving against your thigh. It brought back the memory of Legolas from two summers ago. His soft brown eyes, his barely there smile. Where was he now? Elves had descended upon the city in preparation for Aragorn’s coronation, but you were yet to see the flowing blonde locks that you thought of so frequently. 

Did he think of you? Did he even remember you? Perhaps you were just another human to him, fleeting, passing. Nothing interesting, nothing important.

You spared another glance behind at your shop. The last two years had been eventful. In the autumn after Legolas had left, a travelling noble had passed through your village. She had taken an immediate liking to your craft, had found your bowls and plates well made and your trinkets amusing. A short conversation and a full coin pouch later, she had convinced you to follow her back to Minas Tirith. The coin was better, and you had your own rooms above the shop, but the people of the city were more restrained than those in the country. Gone were the spontaneous village square dances, the casual shared dinners in someone’s home. 

A more comfortable life, but perhaps a more lonely one too.

The music grew louder as you approached and you peered through the heads of the crowd that formed where the market stalls usually were. A group of musicians played some jaunty tune and in the middle there were couples dancing. They whirled across the cobblestones, skirts fluttering and arms wheeling, eyes soft and smiles wide. 

How lovely it must be, to dance with another. To have warm arms encircle you, to have tender words muttered in your ear. You thought of Legolas’ gentle brown eyes and the low timbre voice. How many times have you twirled alone in your rooms, imagining his hand in yours and his lips on your temple? How many nights have you lain awake, revisiting the memory of him? 

You sighed and shook your head. The Enemy had been defeated and a new king was to be crowned — it was time to shake off the shadows and find some joy. 

The musicians changed their tune and more people began flocking to the centre. The dancers began linking arms with each other and forming small circles. You kicked up your heels and joined the closest group of people, a smile growing on your face. 

The rapid beat of the drums bounced off the high stone walls and the strum of the lute raced to follow it. With each flutter and trill of the flute, the song sped up, and heat rushed to your cheeks. You closed your eyes and tiled your head back, revelling in the harmonies of the harp. Your body moved on its own accord, feet shifting in well practised patterns and arms moving in sync with the others. 

The music reached a crescendo, the melody rising to a fever pitch, and you spun out of the circle. You swirled through the air on the tips of your toes, arms arcing in smooth motions. The last of the notes faded in the breeze and your eyes fluttered open. 

There, across the square, hemmed in by the crowd, stood Legolas. 

His lips were parted and his eyes were wide. Your feet faltered on the cobblestones and you stumbled. What was he doing here? How was it possible, after so much time, after so much death?

The crowd broke out into cheers and claps for the musicians, and dancers bowed and thanked each other. You glanced away from him, blinking rapidly and offering polite smiles to the people around you, your heart hammering in your chest. 

Would he want to see you? Speak to you? You straightened your clothes and smoothed down your hair. Valar, if you knew he was in the city you would have made more of an effort to look presentable. 

You looked up, but he was gone. 

You craned your neck, shuffling backwards out of the dancing space, looking for him as your chest tightened. Perhaps he did not wish to speak to you. Perhaps he did not even recognise you. You shook your head. You were just being ridiculous with your flights of fancies, with your daydreams and imaginings. He probably did not think of you once since that evening. 

Your back collided with something solid and you turned on your heels, apology ready to leap off your tongue. His brown eyes, as soft as you remembered, peered into your own. 

“Legolas,” you whispered, “I… Good evening, sir.”

A smile stretched across his face. “I did not think you remembered me.”

“I did not think you remembered me.”

“You are impossible to forget.” The music struck up again and he leaned closer to you. His scent filled the space around you. Woody and fresh, like a forest on a spring morning. “If it is not too much trouble, may I request your company for this evening?”

You blinked at him and your jaw worked. Another evening with Legolas?

His brows drew together and he took a small step back. “Unless… You are already in the company of another?”

You shook your head and his brow eased. “What would you wish to do?”

“There was a stall nearby selling funnel cakes I believe. If you have not eaten, perhaps we can find some sweet treats.”

You grinned before you could stop yourself and he tilted his head in the direction of the market stalls. Legolas located the dessert stall and inclined his head at the matronly lady behind the display. He handed her a few coins and she passed two warm funnel cakes to you.

He led you to one of the stone benches by a watchtower, away from the buzz of the crowd, and sat next to you. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and its rays painted the fields a warm orange. You tore off and popped a piece of the cake into your mouth. The cinnamon and sugar melted on your tongue and you sighed.

“It has been quite some time,” Legolas began, “How did you come to be in Minas Tirith?”

“My wares attracted a wealthy patron. I have a shop in one of the circles below this.”

“And has the city been to your liking?”

“It is certainly much more interesting than my little village but…” Your eyes drifted towards the mountain ranges in the distance. Beyond them, between dense trees and by the rushing river, your village still stood, unblemished by the war. “But I do long for the ease of familiarity, for the comfort of knowing another would be there should you need them.”

“Minas Tirith, while beautiful, can be a cold city. Away from the green of the forest, my companions have been a great comfort to me, and Aragorn —”

“King Aragorn?” You gaped at him. “You… You know him?” You blinked rapidly, words and gossip from the last few months filling your mind. The elf and the dwarf that accompanied the returned king to Mordor… The elf prince of Mirkwood… 

“Yes, he is one of my closest companions.”

Your body went cold. What were you thinking? He was a hero, a prince. And what were you? Some common carver, some unknown person. There would be no chance now, not even the slightest sliver of hope. It would be better just to stop before your heart runs away with itself. 

Your eyes lingered on his long eyelashes, how they almost appeared transparent in the setting sun, on the sharp edges of his cheekbone and jaw, on the pale column of his throat. Maybe you could be happy as his friend, simply watching from afar. A friend, yes, that would be better than nothing. But even then, he might be going away after the coronation, back to his towering trees and moss covered rocks. 

“Is something the matter?” Legolas asked, finishing the last bit of his funnel cake.

“I am just thinking that chance has favoured us for us to have met twice.”

“Yes, I had hoped…” He glanced away, eyes on the horizon. “I had hoped that we would meet again. And chance has been even more generous, for we now reside in the same city.”

“You are not returning to Mirkwood?”

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, his voice growing tender. “No, I think I finally understand what you spoke of that evening, and I have found people I wish to share that… burning of life with.”

Your cheeks flushed. Your words had stayed with him since that evening? “I’m sure your companions will be happy to hear that.”

His eyes drifted back from the horizon to yours. His brown eyes had melted into a deep, warm amber in the orange light. His voice was low, tentative, when he spoke. “It is not just my companions who I wish to share my time with.” 

Did he mean you? You blinked at him, jaw working. 

“I am aware we are not closely acquainted,” he murmured, brows drawing together. “But it is just I have thought of little else, of no one else, but you since that evening.”

Was it truly possible? That he could return even a fraction of what you felt for him?

“Forgive me,” he whispered, glancing away. “If I have upset you with my words. I am still learning the ways of men.”

“No, no,” you said, heart swooping in your chest. “I have thought of you frequently since that night. Wondering, hoping.” He turned to face you and you reached out for his hand on the bench. 

Your trembling fingers curled around his. His hand was cool, nearly as cool as the stone beneath it, and his skin was impossibly smooth. A quiet sigh escaped his lips and he smiled. His thumb caressed your knuckles before he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm and soft, his breath featherlike on the back of your hand.

“I find your hands captivating,” he admitted, running his fingers over your calluses. 

“Do you not think them rough and unrefined?”

“They show character, of your time spent on something you love, of your cleverness and skill. Elves do not develop such marks, no matter how many years we devote ourselves to something.”

You eyed the hardened patches on your skin. “Yes, I suppose they have created some beautiful things.”

“I must confess a small terrible thing to you,” he said, a rueful smile on his face. “I lost the carved deer you gifted me with. We were beset by orcs while tracking our kidnapped friends. It must have fallen out of my pocket in the fight.”

Your heart clenched at the thought of him keeping your carving with him since that night? “It is no matter,” you said, smiling. “I can carve you another one.”

“You would give me such a gift again?”

“I would carve you one every summer should you wish it.”

“I would wish for nothing more than your company every summer.” 

“Only in the summer?” You laughed, squeezing his fingers.

“Every season,” he said, voice low as he leaned closer. His lips brushed your temple and your eyes fluttered shut. “For as many as you are willing to give.”

“All of them,” you muttered. “As many as I have to give.”

#legolas #lotr #legolas x you #legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #request

[lady-adaneth]

Romantic Inclination

To whoever finds this, hello friend! I’m super excited to be sharing my first ever fan fic with you! What an incredible thing that we’ve found each other on this vast platform. I’m looking to improve my writing, so if you have a moment I’d be very grateful if you shared any criticisms or requests. I hope that this little one-shot brings some tranquility to your day!

Synopsis:

You and your betrothed sneak away from the wedding festivities for a romantic moment alone.

Legolas x gender-neutral elf!reader

No use of y/n

One-Shot (but if you’d like more don’t hesitate to send a request)

Meleth Nin = My Love

Content Warnings:

Spice scale: Mild kinda smoky salsa

Physical/romantic touch

Word Count:

500+ words

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°｡

The forests of Mirkwood were fabled for the ghastly creatures that lurked beneath its thick canopy. The treacherous floor remaining untouched by the glow of stars nor the suns kiss; the darkness teeming with monstrous spiders and unforgiving elves…

The centuries old fable had kept your elfling self from wandering at night, much to your father’s relief. If only he could see you now, dancing amongst the Mirkwood elves in their sacred forest; marrying a Mirkwood elf under thousands of glimmering stars.

Your steps faltered as your mind wandered to your betrothed; and your dance partner took notice. Gimli and you had fought side-by-side against Sauron and his hoard. Combat was a dance in itself, and Gimli’s ax was a perfect complement to your blades. So it’s no surprise that he was privy to what troubled you.

“You’ve suddenly got lousy footwork for an elf, what’s on your mind lassie?” A smile graced Gimli’s face, however his eyes betrayed true concern. Your mind had been wandering to Legolas ever since the ceremony. Tradition mandated that both of you greet and dance with as many guests as possible, reuniting hours later for a final dance. However, as much as you enjoyed the company of others you couldn’t help but scan the motley crowd for his circlet-adorned hair.

“Well,” you began, eyes still searching.

“I have so many more guests to thank…” Gimli cut you off in an explosion of laughter.

“Screw tradition, I’ll keep these unruly guests in check. You go find that damned elf, wherever he may be,” before you could muster a retort, Gimli twirled you in a surprisingly artful spin, abruptly letting go of your hand and launching you into the open. You opened your eyes, searching for any sign of your beloved dwarf friend amongst the crowd, to no avail. Rolling your eyes, you took stock of your immediate surroundings. To the left, the merriment continued; with Pippin and Gandalf leading a rather humorous waltz that had everyone hollering. To the right, you found yourself flanked by the seemingly endless Mirkwood forest.

Suddenly, a set of encompassing arms wound their way around your waist.

“Meleth Nin,”

The whispers warm air lingered by your ear, a firm chest pressed up against your back. Despite his choice of words, you could recognize his intoxicating scent of fir and amber anywhere.

“And who might you be?” You say coyly. “Are you my savior, prince?” Legolas chuckled, his voice inches from your ear.

“I’m here to rescue you from the endless dancing and idle chatter, my princess,” you spun to face him, a mischievous smile on his saintly face. Heavens, that face. You could feel his heart rate accelerate with your own as your hand found his jawline. His arms still encompassed your body. You felt yourself melting as he gently leaned down to meet your lips. The rhythm of the kiss was gentle-familiar, and you melted farther into his touch. His arms tightened around your figure as the kiss deepened. His teeth gently grazed your lip, sending a chill down your spine. You pushed farther into his chest in an almost primal effort to meld into one. Your heart rates grew louder, your shared breath drowning out any sound. His right hand ascended to rest in your hair, carefully grasping the roots. Suddenly, you pulled away, gasping for air as the sounds of merriment returned to you. His eyes found yours, a combination of adoration and worry; searching yours for any sign of injury.

“What are your thoughts…” your forehead found his as he held you tightly. “On taking our leave from the festivities, only for a moment of course?” His reverence shone brightly in his eyes.

“I’d be honored to steal you away for the night, Meleth Nin,” he smirked, pulling you hand-in-hand through the glistening forest of Mirkwood…

—————

Thank you for reading! If you have any criticisms or would like a part 2 please let me know!

#legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas fluff #Legolas greenleaf fluff #legolas oneshot #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #lotr requests #first fic #first fanfic #Legolas x elf!reader #Legolas x wife!reader #Legolas x gn!reader #Legolas x gn!y/n #gn reader #gn y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #Legolas blurb