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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

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The Princess & the Guard | part one

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Characters: Tauriel & Calithil (OC - Thranduil’s daughter) Supporting/Mentioned Characters: Legolas. Thranduil. Caleniel (Thranduil’s wife) Chapter summary: The first meeting between Princess Calithil of Mirkwood and future border guard, Tauriel when the two were still juveniles. A/N: I’ve read two conflicting answers for Tauriel’s ages in The Hobbit but I’ve foregone the movie age I think and in my version, the Elvenqueen is still alive when Tauriel is first brought in as a juvenile :) Translations: adar (father) // emel (mother) // pîn ithil (little moon) // nethig (little sister) // elleth (elf-maid)

The first time Calithil met Tauriel, the two were around the same age, and still children by all accounts. Her father had brought the little orphan back to his halls, placing her under the care of him and his wife. He had summoned his daughter to the royal halls where he had set the auburn-haired Tauriel down in front of a warm meal that she did not have the appetite for. He had hoped that the two little girls might get along and perhaps walk in the gardens or read in the library or play together in Calithil’s room with her many, many toys and trinkets.

Imagine the king’s surprise, then, at how their first meeting unfolded.

“This is Tauriel.” He had told his fair-haired daughter when she had reached the room. She stood, biting her lip as she blinked from her father to the fiery-haired stranger sitting in her chair at the table. “She has suffered a great loss, pîn ithil.” Thranduil had continued, though he did not yet go into any detail. He reached out to brush his fingers gently through Calithil’s hair before glancing back to Tauriel, who was doing a rather decent impression of a statue. “She is to stay with us. I hope you will make her feel welcome.”

It had always been her way, to want to make her father proud of her. If he wanted her to help make this new young elf feel at home then that was what she would do. Besides, she felt a sort of excitement tugging at her because Calithil had never had that many friends. There had been few elflings for her to play or interact with growing up.

So the little princess had sauntered confidently up to Tauriel and smiled at her, holding out her hand to shake the other’s in the way that she had witnessed many of the adults around her doing over the years. “Hello!” Instead of waiting for Tauriel to return the gesture, Calithil reached out to take the other’s hand in her own.

Thranduil had smiled, watching the interaction with a soft sense of pride. Yes, he decided, this should work out quite nicely.

Then Tauriel had lunged forward and sank her teeth into the porcelain skin of Calithil’s hand.

Calithil’s shriek was heard all the way down to the throne room.

Thranduil had moved to snatch his daughter back immediately but it was too late. Calithil had already thrown herself at Tauriel in retaliation, tackling the other to the floor. There they rolled, a blur of limbs and hair before Thranduil carefully thrust his arms down and wrangled the both of them apart. If he could manage armies, surely he could manage two juvenile elves!

He held them away from each other, quite unsure how this had gotten away from him so quickly.

“Enough. Both of you.” His voice was a whip and the two young elves turned their attention to him. Where Calithil had tears in her eyes, Tauriel had rage. She rather struck Thranduil as a cornered doe. “You will cease this foolishness at once! This is not how ladies behave.”

“What’s going on in here?” Came the soft voice of the Elvenqueen, Caleniel, from the doorway, drawn by the sound of her daughter’s shout. Thranduil turned to look at his wife, relief shining in his eyes.

“Emel!” Calithil cried, springing away from her father and bounding towards her mother, who wrapped her arms around her in comfort. “Adar said to make her-” She paused to jab a finger towards the other elf. “-feel welcome and she bit me!” Calithil concluded, flashing a bitter scowl at Tauriel as she thrust her hand out in front of her mother’s face so that she could see the damage.

“Ah, yes, I see.” Caleniel nodded sagely, sighing as she brushed her fingers softly over the bite mark before turning to look over her shoulder as she sensed the presence of her eldest. Legolas had come to linger in the hallway but she gestured for him to come closer so he did, moving round the doorframe and into view.

Thranduil watched Tauriel’s eyes dart to the newcomer with intrigue.

Legolas hid a smile and reached out for his sister. “Calithil.” He said gently, drawing her attention. Her brow was set in a deep frown and her cheeks were wet with tears.

“She bit me!” She repeated, blinking up at her brother.

Legolas nodded. “I know. That was wrong of her.” He met Tauriel’s eyes for a moment then and she lowered her gaze. Legolas leaned in closer to his sister, as though sharing a secret, voice a mock-whisper. “But I don’t think she really meant it. I think she is only scared.”

“Scared?” Calithil lifted her arm, wiping her face on the sleeve of her dress. Thranduil frowned briefly at the expensive fabric possibly being ruined but he was silently admonished by a glance from Caleniel that reminded him that it didn’t really matter. “What does she have to be scared of?” Calithil contnued, oblivious. “Not me? I didn’t do anything!”

“No, no. Not you, nethig.” Legolas shook his head gently. “Of the place she came here from... and the things that she saw there.” He watched his sister digesting this information for a moment before he continued. “You see, adar brought Tauriel from a very sad situation. It was very, very scary... and we know that you don’t mean any harm, those of us who know you so well, but she does not.”

Calithil was frowning softly as she turned this over in her mind. Her lips were pursed as she looked from her brother, to her bitten hand, to the young elleth who was now sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, knees drawn up to her chest and her face hidden.

After a beat, she took a couple of shuffling steps closer, though her gaze was still slightly narrowed in distrust. She turned to look at her father, who gave her a little nod of encouragement. Bolstered by this, Calithil turned back to Tauriel, moving over to stand in front of her, looking thoughtful. The auburn-haired female didn’t move a muscle but she was held as taut as a bowstring, ready to jump at any given moment.

Calithil reached into the large pocket on the side of her dress and pulled out an acorn. She had a habit of collecting them whenever she went outside, foraging for hours if she was left to her own devices. The squirrels usually got there first so her collection was still small.

She held the acorn out in the space between them. Tauriel, all her senses engaged, tentatively raised her head to look at the blonde who she had not five minutes ago taken a bite out of. Her gaze fell on the acorn and then flickered back to Calithil’s face, searching for signs of a trick.

She saw none.

All she saw looking back at her was fresh understanding and a soft smile.

Calithil gestured slightly, moving the acorn. “Here! It’s one of my favourites. You can have it. Do you like trees?”

Tauriel eyed her cautiously for another long moment before she slowly started to reach her fingers out towards the acorn and nodded. She still didn’t speak.

Calithil took her acceptance of the little woodland gift as a good sign and moved to lower herself very slowly to the floor in front of Tauriel, though this time she kept a little more space between the two of them, and she did not reach out to touch her.

“Do you ever listen to the trees talk?” She asked the redhead, who frowned and shook her head, looking suddenly confused again, as if Calithil was speaking a strange language.

Calithil’s eyes widened just a little as she wondered where and what this elleth had come from to never have listened to the trees, especially with a name such a Tauriel; daughter of the forest. “Oh!” She exclaimed, shocked. “Well, that’s okay. I can show you. Would you like me to?”

Thranduil moved away from them when he deemed it was safe to now leave them together, padding towards Caleniel and wrapping his arms around her from behind, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She hummed and leaned back against him, her head falling back against his shoulder. “I think they just might get on after all.” She murmured, smiling fondly at their daughter.

“Yes... you might be right.” He turned his attention to his wife’s ear, his lips ghosting the pointed tip and making her shiver.

Legolas cleared his throat and rolled his eyes. “Okay. Well, I saved the day, so you’re welcome.” He told his parents sarcastically. “But, please, if you do not wish to scar your daughter as you have your son, take this into another room.”

The prince’s quick retreat down the hall was followed by his father’s uproarious laughter.

Tauriel, too, turned to watch him leave before her attention moved back to Calithil, who had by this point gotten her up onto her feet and was showing her around the room. She still hadn’t spoken a word but she was feeling less like she had to kill or be killed.

Thranduil made a mental note to keep an eye on the juvenile’s apparent fascination with Legolas as his wife took his hand and pulled him from the room.

“Let them be.” She said softly, when he tried to protest that he wanted to be close in case another incident occurred. “All is well now. You do not need to hover.”

One more glance back at his daughter reaching up to carefully pluck a little twig from Tauriel’s hair caused him to tense just briefly but Thranduil immediately relaxed again when Tauriel simply tilted her head and smiled the thinnest little smile... but a smile nonetheless. He turned without any further arguments to follow his wife, satisfied that his original plan had finally been achieved.

#lotr x oc #tauriel x oc #thranduil x oc #thranduil x tauriel #legolas x oc #legolas x tauriel #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #tauriel fanfic

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msbilberry · 5 months

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AU. Everyone is alive and living happily in Erebor. Bilbo and Tauriel plant a wonderful garden on the side of the Mountain and every day at 4 o'clock they drink tea there together.

On one of these days.

Tauriel: how funny it is now to remember how jealous Legolas was of me.

Bilbo: *takes a sip and looks into the distance* it’s possible that he was simply offended that the dwarves were interested in you, but not him.

Tauriel: well, not everyone can turn the heads of dwarves the way you and I can.

They look at each other with smiles and clink cups of tea.

***

Meanwhile somewhere in Mirkwood.

Legolas looks at the portrait of Gimli in the medallion he took from Glóin.

Legolas: one day I will find you, beautiful creature.

#bagginshield #bilbo baggins #bilbo x thorin #ms bilberry #the hobbit #thilbo #thorin oakenshield #thorin x bilbo #alternate universe #tauriel #legolas #gimli #kili #erebor #lonely mountain #mirkwood #elves #dwarves #hobbit

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rottencherrypie · 17 days

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R-18+; Scent, Taste, Touch (Mirkwood Elves x Reader)

Summary - Three of the five senses with the Mirkwood elves.

Warnings - Smut, language, male genitalia, female genitalia, mention of bodily fluids, male masturbation, female masturbation, creampie, smelling intimates while masturbating, legolas whimpering, eating while masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), semi-public oral sex, thinking of reader while masturbating, reader does not have any specified genitalia (I tried my best).

Pronouns & POV - None, third-person

Pairings - Legolas x Reader, Thranduil x Reader, Tauriel x Reader

Word Count - 1,900+

A/N - I am in the middle of writing a smut and needed a little break, so I thought I'd try my hand at something new. I also made my own gifs which are a little off, but I like them. Pure smut under the cut!

Read on AO3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

- legolas

Scent. Things of the earth that brought comfort to the elven prince were far and few; it was farther and fewer when it came to instantaneous soothing. It neared the realms of impossibility to cease the never-ending chatter, the sleepless nights, and the constant sensation of fight or flight that roamed through his veins.

Yet, there was one thing that always eased him. The one thing that lulled him into a sense of security he hadn't felt for decades.

Your scent.

The moment he breathed in your scent, the perfect mixture of forest musk and spring waters, all chatter within his mind ceased. The lids of his piercing blue eyes would flutter shut, the weight of his toned figure easing into your gentle arms as he breathed you in.

His face buried in the crook of your neck as he inhaled the scent straight from the source, the soothing tightness of his strong arms holding you close to him as he kept breathing you in.

The exact position would keep you in place as his aching cock stretched you out. The halls filled with the squelching click of his manhood carving itself deep into your sensitive walls as he kept his face buried in your shoulder, the soft tickle of his breath upon your exposed skin sending shivers down your spine as you heard him inhale shakily.

"So good." The words would be breathless as if he was a sailor who had fallen overboard desperately attempting to gain air, yet all he wished to fill his lungs with was the scent of you.

He wouldn't raise his head from your shoulders; his grip upon you would tighten as he hid his face further into your flesh as a slew of soft whimpers vibrated against your skin. The weight of his body firmly pressed into you, deepening the heavenly stretch of your inner walls as the speed within his hips would quicken.

His thrusts deepened, ensuring each inch of his cock had its moment within your sensitive area as he moaned in your scent, breathing it all in as he painted your walls with his hot seed.

And when there are nights where you were unable to warm his bed. He would find your scent in other manners.

The sight, one of his face masked within the fabric of your intimate wear. His nose pressed deep into the fabrics, seeking the spot that contained the most amount of your sensitive aromas.

The faint squelching click of the elven prince toying with his throbbing cock was stifled by his shaky, deep inhales as he breathed in the scent that clung to the fabric upon his face.

"Fuck." The word was a muffled moan as his slender hand tightened around his cock, the weight of his head falling back, allowing the intimates to weigh upon his face, drowning his sensitive nose in the pure scent of you.

He'd continue to breathe in the tang of your scent, his motions growing sloppier and sloppier as he envisioned himself in that all too familiar position: deep inside you, holding you tight, breathing you in.

A slew of whimpers would fall from his lips, muffled by the fabric, as his aching cock would shoot rope after rope of white, hot seed. Trickling down his strong hand, dripping onto his wrist as he sat there: breathing in your scent.

──────

- tauriel

Taste. The captain of Mirkwood's guards had a very refined pallet. There was little that truly satisfied her taste buds, as many of their foods she deemed as bland and the wines lackluster.

But, there was one thing she craved. One thing she yearned to taste over and over again.

You.

The moment your lips entwined with hers, allowing her to taste that divine sweet taste upon her own, quenched her cravings. The lids of her emerald eyes would flutter shut; the warmth of your soft lips melding into hers would ease all tension from her.

Her tongue would graze your bottom lip as the kiss deepened, seeking out more of your taste as her strong hands rested upon your shoulders. A content hum would vibrate into your mouth as your lips part, allowing her to indulge in her cravings.

Cravings that she held for more than your lips. The training grounds flooded with the harmony of your breathless moans; the sensation of your hands tugging at her hair filled her senses as she continued to pleasure your sensitive area.

A pleased hum would vibrate against your nether regions, sending a shiver down your spine as her tongue continued to navigate your sensitivity. The bitter tang of you filled her mouth, making her moan in pleasure against your flesh as she buried her face further into you.

A faint sting of her nails digging into the flesh of your hips would fill your senses, earning a faint hiss to fall from your soft lips as she continued to lap away at your sensitivity. The sound of her pleased hums growing as loud as your moans, the training grounds filled with the pleasure-filled melody as the elven guard indulged in her cravings.

Her tongue would move faster, lips pausing to suck against the sensitive flesh, causing a wave of pleasure to surge through your body. The knot within your stomach would snap, sending that familiar static of pleasure to rush within your veins.

A grin would spread upon her lips as your sweet nectar filled them, her tongue seeking out every last ounce of the heavenly liquid as she continued to lick and suck until there was none left for you to give.

And for nights without you, she would find other ways to fill her cravings.

There was a dish she claimed tasted like you, a dish she would spend hours perfecting to be to her taste. The sight of her, legs sprawled wide on the bed, a silver platter of food beside her, a hand between her thighs, and the other grabbing from the platter.

The halls would tingle with the soft harmony of a gentle squelch from betwixt her thighs, her slender fingers gliding in and out of her soaked core as she bit into the food. A moan would be muffled by the food within her mouth, chewing it as slowly as the slender fingers that pumped inside of her.

The gentle stretch of her fingers delving deep into her core was nothing compared to the heavenly stretch of your fingers, nor was the dish as divine as your taste, yet that did not detour the elven guard from getting her fill.

Her fingers would move faster, food falling upon her chest as her inner thighs would clench around her hand. The gasps of her pleasures momentarily stalled as she swallowed down the delectable dish, envisioning it was you upon her lips.

Her inner walls would flutter and spasm around her fingers, drenching her fingers and hand with her sweet nectar as she lay on the bed. Legs still spread wide, the platter beside her, and a yearning for your taste.

──────

- thranduil

Touch. The elven king wasn't necessarily fond of familiar greetings. He didn't see the point in them: handshakes, headbutting, and worse of all, hugs. The elven king saw no purpose in such juvenile greetings.

In his mind, there was no purpose for his skin to touch another, for his warmth to mix with theirs. They were a waste of time, nothing more.

However, there was one whose touch was like a soothing balm to his aching heart. A touch that allowed his view of familiar greetings to crumble.

Your touch.

The moment he felt your soft hand within his, the soothing sensation of your fingers resting within the gaps of his fingers, the elven king would soften. The sharpness of his steel-blue eyes would ease as his gaze fell upon the sight of your palm pressed against his.

His thumb would glide upon the smooth skin of the back of your hand, tracing the path of your knuckle to the crook of your thumb. The weight of the day would ease away as he held your hand tightly, his free hand encasing the other side of yours as if it were the most precious gem within his collection.

A grasp all too familiar to you. One you would often feel upon your wrists as the king held you on to the smooth silks on his bed, his throbbing cock carving itself deep within your sensitive walls as the bed creaked with each sharp thrust his hips made.

His free hand would glide down upon your side, tracing the path to your upper thigh as he brought your hands to his lips, pressing his thin lips against the smooth flesh that separates your wrist and your thumb as he continues to drive his hips into yours.

He'd free one of your wrists, allowing it to fall onto the smoothness of the bed as he placed the one within his grasp up to his toned chest, allowing you to feel the contrast of smooth skin within the sea of scars his chest held from previous battles.

"Touch me." The words would be a breathless plea as if he was a poor sinner who had spent endless hours begging for forgiveness, yet all he was begging for was the warmth of your touch.

His eyes would loop back into his skull, the weight of his head falling backward as he'd feel your hand glide down from his chest towards his lower abdomen. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen tighten from your touch, how his hips would stall for a moment before driving into you even harder.

"More." He'd command, his hips bucking into yours relentlessly as he lost himself in the sea of your touch. You would be able to feel every inch of his cock twitching with pleasure whenever you'd move your hand; the smooth glide of your skin against his was utter perfection.

The twitching of his cock would come to a halt as he painted your inner walls white with his seed. The small circles you traced upon his lower abdomen would send him over the edge of pleasure. Sharp hisses of pleasure would escape his lips as you'd feel his body quivering beneath your touch, trembling just as a leaf would in the wind.

And for nights without your touch, he would improvise.

The sight of the elven king sat upon his bed, legs spread as his hand glid up and down his throbbing cock. The faint twinkle of the candlelight reflecting against the delicate bracelet upon his wrist caught within the corner of his eye, a bracelet which was an exact copy of the one he had given you.

The delicate metal charm upon it would often tap against his massive cock as he continued his stroking motions as a chill would roam down his spine as the lids of his steel-blue eyes would flutter close.

His lips parted, mouth falling open, allowing for each groan of pleasure to escape his lips with no resistance as the air filled with the squelch of his hand upon his cock, and the faint jingle of the bracelet bouncing upon his wrist.

His cock would glisten, covered in a cream specially crafted to keep your skin as soft and smooth as he enjoyed it. The whiteness of the cream mixed with the whiteness of his seed as his brows knitted together.

He would continue to revel in the sensations, envisioning your hands upon his cock, your touch, as the tightness within his abdomen would continue to strain until it finally snapped.

A hiss of pleasure would escape his lips, his head tilting backward as the heat of his seed drenched his hand, trickling down upon the bracelet. Envisioning it was yours instead.

──────

Want to read one part at a time? Read separately on AO3

Legolas, Tauriel, Thranduil

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

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gulnarsultan · 4 months

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Oh how about yandere platonic Thranduil, Tauriel and Legolas with innocent young hobbit reader?

Where Reader is Bilbo’s daughter, cousin or niece and she goes on the quest with him and the company.

Thranduil

You sweet thing. Really the others must be stupid. How does a sweet and innocent hobbit like you go on a journey like this? He adopts you immediately. He will do everything for you to live a happy life by staying with him in his palace. In my Thranduil's eyes, you are a sweet thing that should be protected. Don't worry, Thranduil will take care of you.

Legolas

He is very surprised when he meets you. How could someone like you have come this far? He will immediately start taking care of you. You cannot continue the journey. If you insist on continuing, he will go with you. It will allow you to return home safely. He will always visit you.

Tauriel

She thinks you are so cute and sweet. Honestly, she doesn't think it's right for you to go on such a journey. It will accompany you on your journey. Making sure you are safe and well is very important to Tauriel. You've made a great friend who will be with you for the rest of your life.

#yandere lotr #yandere hobbit #thranduil x reader #tauriel x reader #legolas x reader #yandere platonic #yandere #yandere thranduil #yandere tauriel #yandere legolas

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this-train-aint-stopping · 4 months

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I'm In Love With A Dumbass Dwarf Club

Biblo: Are you sure that hair braiding is a big deal? Thorin does it all the time.

Tauriel: Yes, Kili was quite clear about that.

Biblo: *wordless, muffled screaming*

Legolas: *walks into the room*

Tauriel & Legolas: World's most awkward stare down

Legolas: It appears I was slightly incorrect in my assumptions that all dwarves were intolerable.

#incorrect quotes #humor #incorrect hobbit quotes #incorrect lotr quotes #incorrect lord of the rings quotes #bagginshield #bilbo x thorin #kili x tauriel #gimli x legolas #the hobbit #lord of the rings #lotr #bilbo baggins #tauriel #legolas

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lokittystuckinatree · 1 year

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What do you mean Legolas and Tauriel aren’t a queer ship? Come on guys everyone knows Legolas is pansexual and uses he/they pronouns, Tauriel is transfem and both of them are polyamorous

#legolas x tauriel #Legolas #tauriel

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trapezequeen · 1 year

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#notjealous

#the hobbit #the hobbit the desolation of smaug #Kili #kili the dwarf #Legolas #legolas greenleaf #Orlando bloom #Evangeline Lilly #tauriel #elves #elf #dwarf #dwarves #the desolation of Smaug #Aidan turner #kiliel #legolas x tauriel

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intoxicated-chan · 25 days

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ༻ 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬

(A/n) ➳ Going over this, I just now realize how similar it is to the first episode of House of the Dragon and I apologize for that! Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Take care of yourselves and take a break, eat a snack, drink some water!!

Word Count ➳ 2.7k

Content Warnings ➳ 3rd, P.O.V, violence, blood, injury, mentions the Doom of Valyria, mentions of death…

AWOIAF Masterlist

The sun set hours ago… Lake-town was cold enough during the day and when the sun came down, it felt like a winter storm.

Bard was preparing to set off to collect fish again. He hated leaving for so long and coming home for a day or two, it broke his heart whenever he had to tell his children he was leaving again.

Bard climbed the wooden planks and up to the rooftop where his young son, Bain, sat. He leaned back, his head up towards the sky with widened eyes.

“Come Bain, it’s cold.” Bard said, his arms resting on the rooftop. “It’s time for bed.”

Bain turned to his father. “Da, is the dragon gonna come for us? Like the one in the stories you told us?”

Bard hopped onto the rooftop, kneeling to his son. “No, son. The dragon sleeps within Erebor. It has for a hundred years.”

But Bain pointed to the sky. “But there’s one.”

Bard followed his finger and squinted. He felt his heart drop when he saw the shadowy figure soaring through the sky. He could barely make out the size or his wingspan.

A gasp left his lips as he grabbed his son’s shoulders. “Go, go inside.” He demanded, pushing him. But his eyes remained on the dragon. “Quickly now.”

Watching him take a couple of laps around the Lonely Mountains. His heart raced, was the dragon trying to tempt Smaug? He followed his son inside, trying to remain calm for his children.

He didn’t see the dragon descend towards Mirkwood.

The dragon flapped his wings as he touched the ground, sending out a cloud of dust, twigs, and leaves out of his way.

The dragon grumbled as the guards surrounded him. “Rȳbās.” His rider told him, taking off the leather belts that held her to the saddle. “Lykirī.”

The dragon bent his neck, allowing the rider to dismount. She smiled rather widely, running her hands along his scaly neck and to his head.

She placed her hand under his eye, seeing her reflection in his eye. She laughed as her dragon rumbled under her touch, she placed her forehead onto his skin, closing her eyes, humming a soft tune.

Tauriel approached her with a stern expression. Usually, she would happily greet her but considering that nobody was supposed to be leaving Mirkwood, let alone at midnight, she was frustrated.

“The King does not like repeating himself.” Tauriel warned her, coming close even if the dragon seemed to be displeased. “No one is allowed to leave unless granted.”

She pulled back from her dragon and turned to face her, the smile still on her face. “Aegar is more than big enough to saddle two. I know how much you love the sky.”

Taruiel shook her head in disappointment. “Come, the King wishes to speak to you.” She walked with some of the guards, two waiting for her.

She sighed and followed her, leaving Aegar to lay and rest.

She may have been here her entire life, but the Kingdom of Mirkwood never ceased to amaze her. They have been friends for her entire life as Tauriel was the one who taught her how to use a bow from a young age.

They walked arm in arm through the halls of Mirkwood. Tauriel found herself unable to contain her laughter and smile.

“It is difficult to understand you.” Tauriel giggled. “Do you take pleasure in seeing all of us scramble to locate you?”

(Y/n) grinned sheepishly. “Admit it. You wish to ride a dragon.”

“I believe I’m content with seeing you fly.”

“Your loss.” She pushed her lightly. “So tell me, how angry is he?”

(Y/n) then pulled her arm back as they approached the throne room, Thranduil sat there, observing a jewel in his hands.

Tauriel took her leave but not before looking back at her, her smile had faded but she remained calm. Tauriel left before Thranduil could say anything else to her.

“(Y/n).” Thranduil’s voice was calm yet assertive. But there was an edge of frustration. “You know how I feel about these reckless flights of yours. And to venture out without my permission, disappointing.”

(Y/n) bowed her head, her gaze focused on the floor. “Forgive me, My Lord.” She replied. “Yet you don’t allow me to go flying with your permission.”

Thranduil sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You must remember there are dangers out there, worse than what Aegar poses. You dare fly close to Erebor? Are you asking to battle with Smaug? A dragon three or more times larger than Aegar. He may be a dragon but you are not.”

(Y/n) straightened, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “Aegar is strong, he is loyal. I wouldn’t dare use him as a weapon.”

“The time is coming, (Y/n). You are a formidable soldier, you two make quite a team.” Thranduil admitted. But with a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. “Take a bath, you stink of dragon.”

It has been several days since Thranduil warned (Y/n). His words lingered in her head.

She shouldn’t have to feel frustrated with him, afterall, he was the one to find the items left behind by your family.

There were many things gifted to her when she was old enough to read. Books of her great- great- something grandfather’s handwriting, it was worn, some words difficult to read.

Before she even learned of High Valyrian, she thought the words were a remembrance of her home or maybe her family. But no.

It was far from it. A warning.

Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.

A dragon is not a slave.

She managed to grasp her forebear’s language with some help but she wouldn’t say she mastered the tongue of High Valyrian. Rather, she knew the basics.

It was noon, the sun casting a warm glow over the wooden yard. (Y/n) focused on fastening the leather straps to the saddle, she had a feeling that it was becoming loose.

Aegar laid comfortably on the ground, snoring.

Legolas leaned against a nearby tree, watching her and noticing the furrowed brow that she had for nearly an hour.

“Something is on your mind.” Legolas commented. “Speak, looking bothered does not suit you.”

(Y/n) paused, her fingers picking at the old and peeling leather. “It is nothing.” Offering a smile.

But Legolas saw through her smile, he could see it in her eyes. “You forget I know you, I knew you from the start… You’re worried that once Aegar is old enough, you’ll be forgotten.”

She sighed, tying the leather back into the saddle. “I only worry for Tauriel. The King does not respect her enough.”

“You worry too much, you need to place some of it on yourself and Aegar.” Legolas stepped forward. “You have earned your place here.”

“I have no place here. My home is gone and I’m an outsider, I’m no elf. If I had not appeared with my dragon, Thranduil would’ve sent me away.” She explained, standing to her feet as she observed the saddle.

Legolas was ready to push that idea out of her head. He had no idea she thought of herself so lowly. He grabbed her arm.

Tauriel suddenly appeared. “There’s trouble.” She announced tension in her voice. “The King has ordered another nest to get rid of.”

(Y/n) pulled her arm back. “Aegar!” She shouted, waking him up from his slumber. “Iōrās.”

Aegar stood on his feet, stretching his wings. She grabbed the ropes to mount him.

“(Y/n), wait,” Tauriel grabbed her hand. “The King has requested you stay behind.”

(Y/n) frowned and scoffed. “It would be easier if Aegar-”

But she could see it in Tauriel’s eyes, Thranduil was going to keep her and her dragon here. “A dense forest with a large dragon?” Tauriel laid it out for her. “He fears the damage it could cause. Aegar could not maneuver properly in those woods.”

“Alright.” She muttered, stepping away from Aegar. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry.”

(Y/n) watched them go, annoyed and saddened. She longed to be by their side, joining them in a fight.

Thranduil was going to make her wait and watch. He was going to make her feel like a burden. His way was punishment.

(Y/n) watched from the corner, watching as each dwarf was pushed into a cell. Their complaints were falling on death’s ears.

She stepped out from the shadows and towards Legolas’s direction, wanting to know where the dwarves came from.

“What do you know of dragons, girl?” The dwarf’s voice was gruff, laced with bitterness as he eyed the dragon sigils embroidered into her clothing. “You wear it like a badge of honor.”

(Y/n) eyed him as well, realizing who the dwarf in the cell was. “You’re Thorin Oakenshield? Heir to the throne of Erebor.”

Thorin’s fists clenched around the iron bars. “You have yet to answer my question.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in amazement. “I cannot believe it. I’ve-”

“(Y/n)! Dina!” Legolas commanded her to come. “Get away from the dwarf.”

With that, she walked away, leaving no room for Thorin or (Y/n) to say anything.

“Must you speak to them?” Legolas sneered, following you down the steps. “What reason do you have?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the infamous Thorin Oakenshield. It was not disappointing.”

“...Is it?”

(Y/n) nodded, a smile on her lips. “Yes. If what they say is true… If they reclaim the mountain, I would love to see the glory of Erebor.”

Legolas froze in his steps. “I am beginning to wonder where your allegiance lies.”

“What makes you wonder that?”

“...Go, I need to report to the King.”

She rolled her eyes, asking herself if her curiosity made Legolas or anyone else question her loyalty.

Of course, her loyalty lies with Thranduil, he saved her and took a human and a dragon in. A human not from this world.

The sun had begun to set when (Y/n) stood at Thorin’s cell. “Might I ask you something?” She began, breaking the silence.

He looked up at her, eyes wary. “What is it? Dragon rider?”

“If you had no memories of the kingdom or its riches, would you still fight to reclaim it?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “For it is not the gold or treasures that drive me, but the honor and memory of my kin who were lost. To reclaim Erebor is to honor their memory, to give those who wish for their home.”

He stepped closer to the bars as he spoke his words, loudly enough for the rest of the Company to hear. He spoke with bravery and pride, not a single ounce of shame in them.

(Y/n) listened to his words closely. It made her think of her own home, the writing of the book could not describe the doom correctly.

Only a dream, unsure if it came true…

(Y/n) became lost in her thoughts, she began to speak aloud. “I wonder…” She uttered. “What it would be to see Valyria, to walk the streets, see the dragons fly into the sky with my people on its back. I wonder if any Targaryens remain.”

She sighed, sitting down on the steps. “I wonder if the dream was true and the doom of my home was correct.”

Thorin, still irate from the encounter from earlier but genuinely curious about her side of dragons, sat as well. “Was it taken?”

“It was destroyed. A Targaryen had a dream, D… Daenys had a dream. She had foresaw the destruction. But I have no way to know if it was true, I do not know if Valyria still stands or if any Targaryens remain to rule the skies.”

(Y/n) looked up to the ceiling, closing her eyes to remember how Valyria was described. “To be home. I would give my life just to see it.”

“…May you find your way home, dragon rider… And safely.”

It was a chaotic scene. The dwarves and Bilbo found themselves stuck in wine barrels but their path down the rough rivers were blocked by the portcullis.

Kili’s cry was loudly heard as he fell back, clutching his leg that the Morgul arrow stuck out of.

“Kili.”

Thorin felt his heart sink, hearing his nephew’s cries as he was unable to do anything.

Legolas, Tauriel, and the other Elves fought against Blog and his party.

The Orcs were relentless, fighting to the point until their bodies gave out and welcomed death.

Arrows flew into their bodies, daggers stabbed into their hearts or heads.

Kili’s eyes shut tightly, hissing loudly as he attempted to get back up.

His eyes opened and widened, his eyelids fluttering as the pain was flowing throughout his body… He could see a dragon flying… A dragon?

He could make out the dragon’s silhouette against the sunlight, circling the river before he saw him make a dive. He could hear him roar, loudly.

Tauriel’s eyes immediately shot to the sky, Aegar’s body casting a shadow over the river.

Aegar descended from the sky and landed into the river, his landing sending waves that splashed anyone close.

Thorin couldn’t see Aegar but the sound of his roar was enough to send chills down his back. He looked back and saw the rest of his Company staring up at the dragon.

(Y/n) swiftly unchained herself from the saddle, her feet hitting the ground. She drew her sword, cutting down the Orc coming towards Kili.

She took a quick glance around and estimated the amount of Orcs, she could hear another group coming.

Aegar let out another roar, lunging forward and his massive jaws snapped shut on the nearest orc, easily crushing him into two pieces.

He exhaled a quick stream of flame at the incoming group, the Orcs screaming as they threw themselves into the river.

The Orc swung his ax at her, she ducked and cut his leg, making him kneel with a shriek. She pierced his head with force, making sure he was dead.

She continued to cut through the Orcs with Aegar protecting her, coming down on an Orc that nearly came down on her.

“Tauriel!” She shouted as she tossed one of her daggers past Tauriel’s head.

She grabbed the dagger lodged into the Orc’s chest to stab it once more before using it on another, she tossed it back and (Y/n) caught it.

She heard Kili loudly groan once again, Thorin’s Company were sitting ducks in those barrels and they could only do so much with little to no weapons.

That’s when she noticed why the Company was just floating. The portcullis was shut. It must’ve been why Kili wasn’t in his barrel and why he was on the ground, holding his knee.

(Y/n) dodged another Orc’s attack, managing to move behind him. She grabbed his head and slid her blade across his neck, she then let him fall to the ground.

She came to Kili’s side. “Now’s your chance!” She stated, crossing blades with another. “Go! Before they outnumber us all!”

Kili managed to conjure whatever strength he had left and grabbed the lever, opening the portcullis, and allowing the Company to escape.

“Kili!” His brother cried out, watching Kili slump to the ground once again but push himself into the barrel.

Kili felt and heard the arrow snap, sending another wave of agony throughout his weakening body.

(Y/n) watched as one-by-one, the Company fell into the water and their barrels carried them through the rough stream.

She turned back the Orcs, immediately impaling one Orc coming down on an Elf, and used her dagger to finish the job.

She looked up at Legolas drawing another arrow. “Secure Mirkwood.” He ordered. “Worry about damages later.”

Legolas ran off, following the Orcs that were focused on the Company, Tauriel was behind him.

She rushed to Aegar, she climbed onto Aegar who lowered his neck, allowing her to quickly settle herself.

“Sōvēs!” Aegar began to run, flapping his wings a couple of times before taking off.

(Y/n) directed him towards the gates, wanting to spread the word first. Thorin looks back into the sky, watching Aegar and noticing (Y/n) upon his back.

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