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roosterforme · 5 months

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Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Flying in the annual holiday air show dressed as Santa Claus was just something Bradley considered to be part of his job. But when he meets an inquisitive little girl and her beautiful mom, suddenly he wants to make all of their Christmas wishes come true. The only problem is, your daughter actually believes he's Santa, and he's not sure how he's going to keep up the charade when he wants to pursue you as just Bradley.

Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse

Length: 8000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge

You sat on a beach towel in the grass with your face tilted up toward the warm sun and your five year old daughter on your lap. Never would you have imagined wearing short sleeves and enjoying this kind of warmth in December, but your life had turned unpredictable in the past twelve months. And that included leaving a city that was currently buried in snow for the perpetual summer of southern California.

"Mommy! Look!" your daughter shouted unnecessarily loudly, making you laugh. She turned around with wide eyes to make sure you were looking where she was pointing as she adjusted her pink noise canceling headphones. "It's Santa!"

You slid her headphones off since it wasn't loud at the moment, and you looked out across the runway at the Miramar Air Show to see a tall pilot dressed as Santa Claus walking toward his fighter jet with a group of other pilots dressed as elves right behind him. "I see him," you told her, kissing her cheek as she bounced with excitement. "It looks like he's going to fly one of the airplanes."

"Why does Santa have an airplane?" she asked. "And where are his reindeer? And why are the elves getting in airplanes, too?"

You were saved from having to answer her questions as the aircraft engines fired to life for the finale of the show, and you put her ear protection back in place before putting your own earplugs back in. Honestly, you didn't know how to explain to your child who still believed in the magic of Christmas why Santa was taking off in a jet that said ROOSTER on the side of it. Frankly there were a lot of things you didn't know how to explain to her.

She clapped her hands when the jets swooped overhead in an impossible looking formation before looping back around and doing it again. Your heart melted as you watched her wave to the lead jet and shout, "Hi, Santa!" The planes roared overhead and shot upwards before coming back one by one to the land on the runway with such incredible looking ease.

When she whipped her headphones off herself this time, your daughter jumped to her feet with a huge smile on her face. "Let's go talk to Santa," she said, reaching back for your hand.

But you already had your eyes glued on the pilot who quickly replaced his helmet with a white beard and Saint Nick hat. You couldn't help but watch him, enjoying that distant glimpse of him before he went into full Santa character again. He looked tall and strong as he climbed down the ladder in his bright red flight suit, and you had to look away as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and it felt like he was waving right at the two of you.

"Mommy!"

You knew she wasn't going to be deterred from this mission, so you got to your feet and let her tug you along as you tried to fold the towel one handed. "Sweetheart, Santa and his elves might be too busy to talk to us right now," you warned her as the group of six elves in bright green flight suits started fist bumping Santa Claus. And your steps faltered, because Santa somehow just got more attractive the closer you got.

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"Who let you be Santa anyway?" Jake asked, tugging on his red and green striped hat with enormous elf ears attached to the sides. "This elf bullshit is a damn disgrace."

"I volunteered to be Santa before the rest of you got a chance. Do I look like I'd make a good elf?" Bradley asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. "No. I do not." He was the tallest one in the group, and luckily he was able to sweet talk Maverick into letting him be the one to don the beard and the red flight suit for today's Miramar for the Holidays event they all volunteered to fly for.

"Maverick should have mixed things up and made me Santa," Nat said with her chin in the air.

"But you're the cutest little elf I've ever seen," Bradley told her, earning a smack on the back of his arm from her helmet. "Ow!"

"Wait, are we complaining?" Mickey asked. "I like being an elf. And apparently we get free food and hot cocoa in the volunteers tent."

"Oh, shit. Really?" Reuben asked, craning his neck to look toward the tent in question.

Bradley was about to remind everyone that they were obligated to pose for photos with kids when he heard a voice calling out, "Santa! Hey, Santa!" He turned toward the four foot tall chain link fence as an adorable little girl dragged a grown woman in his direction.

"Hey guys, we got company," he told the others as he adjusted his white beard and red hat. When he waved toward the child, she squealed in delight, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh. As she and the woman he assumed was her mom approached the fence, Bradley leaned on the top of it.

"Ho, Ho, Ho! What's your name, Kiddo?" he asked her with a bright smile. But his gaze inadvertently shifted to how gorgeous you looked as you held her hand, and he gave you a wink. He wouldn't mind learning your name, too.

But the little girl was eyeing him skeptically. "Shouldn't you already know my name? My mom said I'm on the nice list!" she exclaimed, gesturing up toward you.

Oh. Shit. "Uh, well, you see..."

Luckily you bailed him out with an apologetic look. "Ellie, don't be rude to Santa. He probably didn't update our names to our new address yet."

"Oh. Yeah," Bradley said, nodding in agreement and smiling. "Of course now I recognize you, Ellie. And your mom, too. Rest assured, you're both on the nice list."

But the girl wasn't convinced. "Why aren't you fatter?"

You brought your hand up to cover your face and groaned as Bradley laughed. "I needed to be able to fit in my jet."

"Why do you have a jet? Where's your sleigh?"

Bradley jerked his thumb toward the others milling around behind him. "My elves and I are trying out our jets this year. Something new."

"What about your reindeer?" she asked, undeterred. You were looking at Bradley and half smiling, half grimacing as you mouthed I'm sorry. But he didn't mind at all. Ellie was keeping him on his toes.

"Uh... they have the year off, per their union contracts. You certainly have a lot of questions, Ellie."

She nodded up at him with her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure you're the real Santa. I've seen a lot of impostors at the mall."

Bradley had to stifle his laughter as you said, "I had no idea she was going to be like this. I'm so sorry, Santa."

"It's fine," he reassured you, noting that you weren't wearing any rings before he returned his attention to your daughter. "Okay, Ellie. What's it going to take for you to believe I'm really Santa?"

Her brow scrunched as she contemplated his question, and Bradley used the time to check you out. It was useless, he knew that, since he looked like an idiot in his fake beard at the moment. But damn, you were pretty. And your daughter was like a tiny, inquisitive version of you.

"Well," Ellie said with a little smirk, "you should know how old I am if you're the real Santa."

You quickly held your hand up over her head to help him out, and he counted your fingers. "Of course I know that you're five years old."

Ellie's eyes softened a bit as she said, "That's right! And what's my favorite color?"

This time you juggled the items you were holding and lifted up a set of noise canceling headphones. "That's easy," Bradley replied. "I know you love pink."

Now Ellie was smiling up at Bradley as she said, "And if you still need to update our new address, then you must know where we moved here from."

Bradley glanced up to see you pretending to shiver and rub your hands along your arms. "You moved here from somewhere cold."

"That's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "It's you! You're Santa!"

"It's really me," Bradley said, sending her a wink and nodding at you as you bit your lip and grinned. "And don't you worry, I'll have my elves take care of getting your new address straightened out. But first, I need you to prove that you're the real Ellie."

She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"

"What grade are you in?"

"Kindergarten," she said, eyes filled with joy.

"Yep, that's right. Only the real Ellie would know that." You were laughing now, and Bradley loved the way it sounded. "And what's your favorite animal?"

"Pandas!"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, pretending he was impressed that she was passing this quiz with flying colors. "I'm almost convinced it's really you."

"Seriously," she told him. "Ask me anything, because I'm sure I'm not an impostor."

Bradley glanced up at you and smirked before leaning on the fence again, and then asked Ellie, "Tell me, Kiddo. What's your mom's name?"

She blurted it out immediately, and Bradley committed it to memory. When he looked up at you again, your gaze was focused on the ground, but you looked pleased if not a little sad. He wanted to know why.

"Would the two of you like to come in here and look at the North Pole jets?" he asked, and Ellie started bouncing up and down immediately.

"We don't want to waste any more of your time, Santa," you told him with an apologetic look.

"You wouldn't be," he promised, and when he said your name, you smiled and looked off to the side like you were embarrassed. "Come around the fence. You can meet my elves." He pointed to the gate a ways down where a security guard was standing. Bradley waved to him and gave him a thumbs up which the guard returned. "Santa gets special privileges."

"Fine," you said softly. "We'll just come around and meet you then?"

"Looking forward to it," he replied, and then Ellie was taking off for the fence opening with you right behind her. Bradley turned toward the others and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This little girl, Ellie, thinks I'm really Santa," he informed them. "And she thinks you're all my elves."

"Fuck," Jake groaned.

"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered.

"I refuse to be nice to you, even in front of a child," Nat said blandly.

"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.

"I'm so excited!" Mickey giggled, adjusting his elf ears.

"Just be nice, okay? Here she comes... with her mom," Bradley said, really enjoying the sight of you headed his way. He cleared his throat and knelt down as Ellie streaked toward him.

"Can I sit in one of the North Pole jets?" Ellie asked while you shook your head apologetically.

"Really, feel free to tell her no."

But Bradley just smiled and adjusted his white beard before he scooped the child up and stood. You looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he said, "Sure, Kiddo, if you think you can climb that ladder? It's really tall."

"Yeah, I can do it!" Ellie said, looking past him at his F/A-18 and clapping.

"Sound okay, Mom?" he asked you, and you bit your lip and smiled.

"Great. While Ellie and I are up there talking about what's on her Christmas list, why don't you give your information to my sweetest and most loyal elf, Phoenix."

Nat rolled her eyes at him so hard before she turned to you with a smile, and Bradley had to walk away before he started laughing too hard to stay in character.

"Your elf is named Phoenix?" Ellie asked as he carried her toward the ladder. "What are the other ones named?"

Bradley chuckled. "They're all pretty silly sounding," he said as he set her down a few rungs from the bottom. "The big one is Payback. The one who can't stop smiling is Fanboy. The one that's yawning is Coyote. Bob is the one with glasses. And the cranky one is Hangman."

"He looks like he could use a candy cane," she said as she started to climb.

"I think you're probably right. I should feed all of them more sweets."

Once they reached the top, he hoisted her over the edge and climbed onto the seat behind her. "Do you want to talk about what's on your Christmas list?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh as she plopped down on his knee and looked at him with concern. "We didn't bring most of our decorations and stuff when we moved, because there were already too many boxes."

"Oh," Bradley grunted, patting her on the shoulder. Now he was even more curious than before about where the two of you had moved from and why as his gaze met yours where you stood below with Phoenix. "Well you'll need a Christmas tree for your presents to go under."

She nodded and finally smiled when Bradley looked at her again. "The only thing I really want is a pink one!"

He blinked at her a few times. "A pink tree?"

"Yeah! A pink Christmas tree! And an art set with pink paint."

Bradley nodded, figuring he could probably make that happen. "Sounds monochromatic but fun. Anything else?"

Ellie looked down at you and waved. Your brilliant smile for your daughter was so lovely, Bradley found himself waving too, which made you laugh. "Nothing else for me," Ellie whispered. "But something for my mom."

"Oh yeah?" he grunted when you blew a kiss up to them. Damn. He knew it was for your daughter, but he kind of wanted one of his own. "What do you think Santa should bring for your mom?"

"A boyfriend."

His gaze jerked back to Ellie's, but she looked completely serious. "You want me to get your mom a boyfriend?"

She nodded and said, "One that's tall and will play dolls with me sometimes and eat dinner at our new house. And he has to be really nice. Just like my dad was."

Bradley leaned in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders. "What happened to your dad?"

"He died last year," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure you knew him, because he was definitely on the nice list."s

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You watched as your daughter gave the naval aviator she was convinced was Santa Claus a big hug. He actually looked a bit ridiculous in the bright red flight suit and hat with the white beard, but Ellie seemed to have bonded with him in some way. They were laughing together about something she whispered to him, and then he was patting her head.

"I'll see what I can do for you, okay Ellie?" he told her, and you wondered if his voice really was that deep all the time.

"Thanks, Santa!" She came trotting over to you and took you by the hand. "I'm ready to go home now," she told you with a smile as the 'elves' waved goodbye. A startled laugh escaped you, because the entire afternoon felt very surreal. You just gave your phone number and your new address to someone named Phoenix who was dressed as an elf even though she was definitely also a naval pilot. And now you were waving to Santa Claus who you were left to assume was named Bradley Bradshaw based on what was painted on the side of his jet.

"Did you have a fun time with Santa?" you asked as you walked back toward the opening in the gate, chuckling at your own words.

"Yeah. He's really nice. I could have probably stayed and talked to him all night," she replied, and when you turned back he was still looking at you. The casual wave of his hand made your heart skip a beat. You really wanted this again. That familiarity with another person. The ease. The perpetually happy child next to you.

"Yeah... he seems pretty great."

But you were really annoyed with yourself when you spent nearly a full hour after you got Ellie in bed imagining what his face might look like without the fake beard. It had barely been three months since you stopped wearing your wedding rings. It was just over a year ago that your husband died unexpectedly. You were decidedly not in the market for dating anyone while Ellie was this young, because she deserved all of your attention. So why were you thinking about this Bradley guy and how sweet he was with your daughter?

You collapsed onto your bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You didn't do the wordle yet for today, and you still needed to check the weather for tomorrow. But you got distracted by a text from a number you didn't recognize.

Hey, it's Bradley Bradshaw. I mean Santa. I hope you don't mind me texting you.

You sat up in your bed so quickly. Your stomach lurched as butterflies took up residence, and your fingers quivered a little bit as you gripped your phone. What were you supposed to do? "Text him back," you muttered to yourself. "Get a grip."

You looked across the room at your wedding photo on your dresser. It had been in one of the few moving boxes you managed to unpack already, and it made you smile every time you looked at it. Right now was no exception; that was one of the best days of your life. But when you looked back down at your phone, you didn't feel a pang of sadness or regret. You felt intrigued. So you saved Bradley's number and then texted him back.

I don't mind one bit. I'm happy to have the chance to thank you again for earlier. You made Ellie's day! Mine, too!

And then you waited with your phone in your hand, half embarrassed and half excited by the idea of getting another text from him.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Your daughter is a bit of a spitfire. I was very entertained by her. And there's no need to thank me. It was the highlight of my day.

Dealing with your sassy five year old was the highlight of his day? You squealed and had to set your phone down while you walked around your room for a few minutes. The highlight of his day? He was a fighter pilot! He flew a jet around at the air show!

"Oh god," you groaned, crawling back across your bed to your phone. You were already a lost cause. Over a man who had been dressed as Santa Claus? Ridiculous.

But now you were scrambling over what to type back to him. Send him a Santa emoji? No. You were flustered as you sent him the first random thing that came to your mind.

You make a great Santa. You know, in case you ever contemplate a career change.

You looked at the words on your phone screen and cringed. You glanced back at your wedding photo and sighed. If that was your best attempt at flirting, then it was amazing you'd ever been married at all. And this man you met today didn't even seem bothered that you had a kid. That was a miracle in itself. You got ready to toss your phone aside for the night when he sent back a smiling emoji and another text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll keep that in mind as a potential retirement gig.

You wanted to tell him he looked pretty good in a fake beard. You wanted to tell him you were curious what he looked like without it. You wanted to keep him talking a little bit longer, because you could feel the adrenaline fueled blood pumping through your body, and it felt exciting. But before you could even say anything else, Bradley had you burying your face in your pillow so you could scream without waking Ellie up.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: But here's the thing. I'm an absolute sucker for cute girls. When can I see the two of you again?

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Bradley had to wait a little bit for a response from you, and he was sweating. He didn't want to push too hard, especially after Ellie told him her dad died, but he was intrigued. Plus, he was already googling pink Christmas trees.

Ellie's Mom: Ellie and I are kind of suckers for sweet Santas. What did you have in mind?

He lounged back in his bed with a smile on his face. Was he about to drop five hundred bucks on an eight foot tall pink tree? Hell yes. Especially since you just called him sweet.

Ellie asked Santa for a pink Christmas tree. I want to order it tonight if you can confirm it will fit in your house. And then I'd love to come by and set it up one day.

You wrote back almost immediately after he sent the link to the tree.

Ellie's Mom: You don't have to buy that for her! It's so expensive! Honestly, you don't need to buy her anything!

Bradley sighed. The kid thought he was really Santa Claus, so there was no way she wasn't getting a pink tree and a pink art kit. It was the boyfriend request that made him chuckle, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the idea of seeing you again.

But I want to. Any chance you can measure the space for me?

He had to wait a little bit longer again for you to answer, but this time he was rewarded with photos that had him sitting up in bed and staring at his phone.

Ellie's Mom: I can't find a measuring tape in all these moving boxes, but here's the spot where a tree could go. And here I am for reference.

You were smiling in the selfies, looking a little shy but just as pretty as earlier today, and you had on a shirt that looked so soft, he wanted to touch it. "God damn it," he grunted, already tapping out a response.

I think Santa should stop by in person and check the measurements, just to be on the safe side. Also, you're gorgeous.

"Oh fuck," groaned after he hit send. He really didn't mean to come on so strong, especially since he just met you. He busied himself with ordering the pink tree that he was sure would fit in that spot along with some colorful ornaments and tried not to count the minutes until you wrote back.

Ellie's Mom: We'll be home on Monday evening. I'm sure Ellie would love another visit from Santa. And so would I.

Bradley wrote back letting you know roughly what time he could stop by, and then he started to formulate a plan.

On Monday, in the locker room after work, he changed out of his regular flight suit and showered before zipping himself into his bright red one. His measuring tape, beard and Santa hat were already waiting in the Bronco, and he swung by his favorite bakeshop on his way out of Coronado. The place was packed with customers placing orders for Christmas goodies, so he was happy he decided to call ahead. He grabbed the box he already paid for and got back on the road, following his GPS across the city to the outskirts of town.

Your place was a cute town home with a pink Christmas wreath on the door and the windows lit with a warm glow as the sun set. Bradley got his Santa beard and hat situated using his rearview mirror, and then he grabbed the box and the measuring tape and made his way up to the front porch. As soon as he knocked, his heart beat a little faster, and a few seconds later, you were opening the door for him with a smile.

"Hey, Santa," you said softly with a crooked little smile. Bradley took you in from head to toe, his eyes catching on your lips and your pink sweater as he heard Ellie come bounding down the stairs.

"Santa!"

He looked past you just in time to see your daughter come streaking toward him wearing a pink dress and launching herself into his arms. He bent and caught her a little awkwardly as he laughed. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she hugged him.

"Came to make sure you're still on the good list." Bradley grinned up at you where you stood biting your lip. "Well, Mom? Has she been listening and behaving?"

You nodded. "Yes, Santa. She's been very well behaved."

"Excellent," he replied, releasing Ellie and handing her the box which she opened right away.

She gasped and looked up at him. "Pink Christmas cookies?"

"Yeah, I just thought the two of you might like something sweet."

You were looking at him with softly parted lips, and then you said, "Aren't we supposed to be leaving cookies out for you later this month?"

"I wouldn't complain if you did," he replied as Ellie handed you a pink snowflake cookie. He watched you bite into it, and he realized he was staring.

"Want one?" Ellie asked, tugging on his hand.

"No, those are for the two of you, Kiddo. I'm really here to measure the room for your pink tree. I want to drop it off before Christmas so there's something for your presents to go under."

Ellie screeched and nearly dropped the cookies all over the floor as you took the box from her. She pulled Bradley into the living room and showed him where she wanted her tree to go, and then she helped him measure the space while she asked him what he wanted for Christmas.

"Does Mrs. Claus get you something every year?" she asked, eyes wide and focused on him.

He wasn't sure how to answer her as he knelt on the floor with the measuring tape in his hand. So he decided to just be honest. "I actually don't have a Mrs. Claus yet."

When Ellie's eyes drifted from him up to you where you stood a few feet away, Bradley couldn't help but follow suit. "Mommy," she whispered. "We need to get something for Santa."

"Okay," you whispered back, barely glancing at Bradley before looking back at your daughter. "We can do that."

Ellie turned back to him and asked, "If I leave a present under the tree on Christmas Eve, will you know it's for you when you get here?"

"Of course. Just write my name on it so I know it's mine." Then she kissed him on his cheek right above his white beard, and Bradley melted a little bit inside.

--------------------------

You and your daughter waved from your front door as Santa left with his tape measure and one of the pink cookies. Ellie insisted he take the one that was decorated like a reindeer with him, and you watched as he ate it while he started up his vintage blue Bronco. When he honked and waved goodbye, Ellie jumped up and down.

"Santa's bringing me a pink tree!" she gushed, and honestly, you were feeling a little silly over that man, too. Your skin tingled as you closed the door and looked at the rest of the cookies. You felt like he was spoiling the two of you even though you barely knew him.

"Let's go get ready for bed," you whispered, ushering her toward the stairs before you took the cookies to your kitchen to have a moment to yourself. Last Christmas had been a nightmare as it was just a few weeks after you lost your husband, and now you'd moved to San Diego to have a fresh start with a new job and a new school and a new city. You couldn't handle another holiday in the house that the three of you had shared.

California was warm and welcoming, but the last thing you had expected to find here right away was a man that made your heart skip a beat. You knew your husband wouldn't want you to give up the idea of dating someone else, but you'd convinced yourself that nobody would want the two of you even though Ellie was a sweet kid.

You set the pretty cookies down on the counter and sighed. Bradley didn't seem to mind that Ellie was around. If anything, he seemed to really like her. He was buying her a tree even though you told him he didn't have to do that. You were more than capable of getting one, but he wasn't going to be deterred.

And Ellie definitely liked him, helped in part by the fact that she seemed completely convinced he was actually Santa.

"You don't even really know what his face looks like," you groaned as you closed the box and headed upstairs. It didn't even matter though, because you could still tell he was handsome with the kind of brown eyes you just wanted to keep looking at. But how embarrassing were you? Crushing on him like this.

After you got Ellie in bed, you texted Bradley to say thank you, and he wrote back immediately.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.

You imagined him saying those words in his deep voice in person, and you were still thinking about him the next morning when you woke up. You picked up your framed wedding photo and sighed in exasperation. "He reminds me a bit of you, honestly," you told your deceased husband who smiled back from the frame. "He's funny and kind of sweet. Maybe I just miss you. I don't know."

But you found yourself unable to get much work done from your home office while Ellie was at school. You kept sneaking down to the kitchen to get pink cookies, and by late afternoon, you caved like a house of cards and texted Bradley.

I can't stop thinking about what you might look like without your Santa beard and hat.

You set your phone down on your desk and stared at it. What were you, fucking insane or something? You must be. After twenty minutes with no response, you grabbed a sweatshirt and went for a walk around the block without your phone. You had forgotten how to flirt. That had to be what was going on here. You no longer knew how to be normal or subtle in any way, because it had been so long since you needed to be. When you moved to San Diego to start over again, you must have forgotten to pack your ability to act chill in front of men you were attracted to.

You stood on your front porch and took a deep breath before heading back inside. You needed to stop this. After Bradley came back with the pink tree for Ellie, he wasn't going to want to keep hanging out anyway. It was better to just stop this thing in its tracks right now. You ran back upstairs to your desk and grabbed your phone. He probably hadn't responded yet, which was great, because you could text him again and tell him you were just joking.

"Haha," you muttered as you sat down. "Just kidding, Santa."

But he had already replied. Oh. And he sent a selfie. Oh my. "Oh my god." He was even hotter than you imagined. He had a mustache. A real one, not the white one. He wasn't wearing the red hat either, and as a result, you got to see how soft his light brown curls looked. And he was smiling, his lips and his eyes already familiar to you. Then you made a small, strangled sound as you read the accompanying text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Greetings from North Island... I mean, the North Pole. And by the way, I can't stop thinking about you either.

You literally melted out of your chair and onto the spare bedroom floor. You thought about reaching for your computer to put up your out of office message, but you couldn't stop looking at the photo long enough to focus on anything else. You were laying on your back looking at your phone, and you nearly dropped it on your face when he wrote back again.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: The tree should arrive on Thursday. I was thinking I could take a half day at work and come over to set it up on Friday afternoon while Ellie is at school? Then I could see you again, too...

You rolled onto your front and started typing. Of course you wanted him to come back on Friday. You hit send before you realized that you'd be here alone with him. You'd have no five year old to buffer yourself from almost certain embarrassment.

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Everyone else was picking out poinsettias or red and green blooms, but when Bradley got to the florist, he asked for a big bouquet of pink flowers as well as a smaller one. Just pink flowers. Nothing else. He paid and left with both of them in one hand and ran back across the street to his Bronco.

He was running late. He told you he'd be there around one o'clock, but it was already half past. Of course he needed to shower before he left work at noon, since he smelled like jet fuel, and then he had to stop back at home and load the tree and everything else into the Bronco before he could head to your place.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't want to spend as much time with you and Ellie as possible right now. Frankly he was looking forward to spending a little time alone with you, even if it was just while he was putting the tree up. When he finally made it across town, he checked the time and winced before running up the sidewalk and knocking. And if he was already a little bit out of breath, it only got worse when you opened the door and smiled at him.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I realized on my way here that I must have been overzealous when I told you I would be here by one."

You grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. Come on in." You closed the door behind him and asked, "Are those for Ellie?" You were gesturing at the flowers he forgot he was holding.

"Oh," he said, pulling the bouquets apart. "One's for you." Your eyes went wide as he held the bigger bunch out, and your fingers brushed his when you took it. "The little one's for Ellie."

You were looking up at him in surprise and your voice was soft as you said, "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't know what your favorite color was, so I went all in on the pink."

You were grinning again as you buried your nose in one of the fuchsia colored roses. "It's pink. Good job, Santa."

Bradley laughed. "I should have known. The two of you have me seeing pink everywhere now."

"I'm not sorry about that," you said, reaching for the other bouquet. "I'll put these in the kitchen."

He handed it over and said, "And I'll bring the tree inside." He watched you turn away from him, and he kept his eyes on you until you were almost out of sight which resulted in you turning around and catching him staring. He didn't mind.

Bradley made two trips inside with the tree and all of the lights and ornaments, but you must have still been in the kitchen. Or maybe you went upstairs or something. He'd been hoping you wanted to hang out a little bit and chat, but he already had the enormous tree box open with pink branches spilling out of it when you returned with two mugs.

"I made you some hot chocolate."

Nobody had made him a mug of hot chocolate since he was a kid himself. "You did?"

"Yeah. But if you don't want it, that's fine." You looked a little shy now, so he stood and reached for the pink mug you were offering to him.

"I love hot chocolate. I just don't drink it much now that I live where it's usually warm."

"Where are you from?" you asked before you pursed your pretty lips and blew on your drink.

Bradley smirked. "Would I be remiss if I told you I'm actually from Virginia and not the North Pole?"

Your bright laughter had him taking a step closer to you. "Not at all. Just don't tell Ellie that. She's already working on a Christmas present for you. I mean for Santa."

"Is she really?" he asked, suddenly unable to stop smiling. When you nodded, he asked, "What is it?

"I can't tell you! That would ruin the surprise."

"Yeah... don't tell me. I wouldn't want to disappoint her." Bradley took a sip before setting his mug down on a coaster and kneeling in front of the tree box.

You cleared your throat as he started pulling branches out. "How long have you been living in San Diego?"

"About six years. I finally got a permanent station at North Island after moving around. A lot." He lined all of the pieces up on the floor as you took a few steps closer.

"How old are you?" you asked him. When he glanced up, you added, "If you don't mind me asking."

He smiled. "I don't mind you asking me anything you want to ask me. I'm thirty seven."

"How are you possibly single?" you blurted out before hiding your mug in front of your mouth. "I'm sorry." You paced back and forth across the living room a few times as you said, "I'm so bad at this. Like epically bad at it. Because I haven't had to do it in so long."

"Do what?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you came to a stop right in front of him.

You made a cute little sound before you whispered, "I have forgotten how to even attempt to flirt with a man."

He had to press his lips together to hold his laughter in. You were actually serious right now. "I thought you were doing alright."

"You did?" you asked, gaping up at him.

"Yeah. I mean, you sent me those cute selfies when you didn't have a measuring tape."

You licked your lips and took a step away from him. "No one has called me cute since my husband died."

Bradley could feel his lungs deflating. He hated that you had to live through that. He was also selfishly a little afraid you were going to tell him you weren't looking to date again. This was really the only reason he hadn't asked you out already. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was currently convinced he was Santa Claus.

But he thought he should try his luck. "Someone should be calling you cute every day. You and Ellie both. Like I said, I'm a complete sucker for cute girls."

You looked a little flustered now as you sipped your hot chocolate, so Bradley returned to his mission of putting the massive tree together in the corner of your living room. When he paused to drink from his own mug, you came over to help him. Wordlessly, the two of you assembled it until it was too tall for you to reach.

When you handed the top part of the tree to him, he whispered, "Thanks." Your hand seemed to linger on his. Or maybe he imagined it.

"It's nice having someone so tall around," you said. "You must have no problems putting your own tree up."

"Nah," he said, sliding the last piece into place. "I don't even put one up at home. Seems like a waste when it's just for me."

"You don't have a tree?" you asked, and your hand came to rest on his forearm. Bradley's eyes snapped to yours as you said, "If you can continue to handle all the pink... maybe you'd want to come back over and enjoy this one with us?"

"As Santa?" he asked. "I really got myself into a mess with Ellie, didn't I?"

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. "Yeah... she's kind of attached to Santa now."

Bradley was fighting the urge to just kiss you, because you were right there. And you probably tasted like hot chocolate. And the closer you got, the prettier you looked.

"Should we add the lights?" you asked softly, your hand still on his left arm. "Before Ellie gets home?"

Very slowly, he raised his right hand so there would be no doubt in your mind what was coming. He traced your cheek with his fingertips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. Let's do the lights and the decorations before she gets back. I didn't bring my beard and my hat today."

"Okay," you breathed, leaning into his touch for a beat before you released his arm and pulled away. "I'll... get the lights ready." You turned and started to open some of the boxes of white twinkle lights while Bradley got the ornaments opened up.

He took out the pink and silver star, and when he reached up toward the top branches, you wrapped the lights around him and the tree at the same time. "If you want to keep me here with you, just say so. You don't need to tie me up."

You laughed. "I couldn't keep you even if I wanted to. You're Santa Claus, remember? You have a million toys to deliver next week."

Bradley caught you gently by the arm as you looped the lights around his back again. "To be crystal clear, I'm only doing this for you and Ellie. Nobody else."

You wrapped the lights a little tighter and said, "To be crystal clear, I like the way that sounds."

Bradley smirked as you finally loosened the strand and freed him. "Listen," he said as he followed you slowly around the tree as you put the lights on correctly this time. "Santa doesn't have time to play games before Christmas. He's very busy."

"Really?" you asked, looking back at him as you strung the lights higher and higher on the pink tree. "This kind of feels like a game to me, Santa."

He took over with the strand once it got too high for you to reach, and when he was done, he watched you pick up one of the boxes of ornaments. There were a bunch of pink and blue hearts and stars, and you smiled up at him. So he decided to go for it. Because he knew this was a rare opportunity he'd been given. "Santa is actually pretty serious right now. About you."

When you immediately returned your gaze to the box in your hands, Bradley ran his hands through his hair. You looked a little flustered again, just like you had when you claimed you forgot how to flirt. Whatever you were doing to him, he liked it. He liked how it felt to be around you and Ellie, too. He ducked behind the tree to plug the lights in, illuminating everything in a soft, pink glow, and then he tried to find the energy to help you finish the tree without pushing this any further.

"Hey, Santa?"

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for an ornament from the box you were holding.

You seemed to weigh your words before you said them which had Bradley's heart beating a little faster before you even spoke. "I wasn't planning on anything serious. Not really ever again."

"Oh." Serious was the kind of thing he was looking for now. Serious was actually what he wanted. He hung the pretty blue heart shaped ornament and then let his hand fall to his side. His heart felt heavy like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake as you reached up in front of his face to hang a pink and white heart next to his blue one.

"At least that's what I thought before we moved here," you added.

He looked at you with one raised eyebrow. "Something changed your mind?"

"More like someone," you whispered, handing him another pink heart ornament which he carefully hung just above the other two. He wanted to know for sure if he was the one that changed your mind, but you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gasped.

"Ellie's bus should be here in a couple minutes."

"Right," he said softly. You and he finished decorating the tree, not so subtly stealing glances at each other the whole time. If there was even a chance with you, he wanted to take it, but he didn't want to press any harder today.

When he reached for his empty mug, you shook your head and said, "You can leave it. I'll clean up later."

"Okay." With nothing else keeping him at your house he started to head for the front door, but you caught his hand in yours.

"Wait." Your eyes were wide and a little hesitant, but when you tugged gently, he went willingly, slowly closing the distance between you body and his. "Thank you. For the tree and the ornaments. And the cookies. And the flowers."

He shook his head. "It's my pleasure. You don't have to thank me again."

"But I want to," you whispered, running your thumb along the back of his hand. "I want to do a lot of things. But they feel a little scary." When you paused, he didn't rush you. Your eyes were taking in every detail of his face, and you were smiling softly. "Things I haven't done in a long time. Things I never anticipated I'd be doing again. At least not while Ellie is so young."

Bradley opened his mouth, intending to tell you he could wait a few weeks or months to ask you out if that would make things easier for you, but you tugged gently on his hand again, rendering him silent. When your other hand came to rest on his chest, he held his breath. Your gaze stayed locked on your hand as you slowly guided it up along his shoulder and collarbone until it came to rest gently on the scars on the side of his neck.

The soft stroke of your thumb and even the gentle flex of your fingers could have brought him to his knees. And then you finally met his eyes. "I really want to," you murmured as you stood on tiptoes, your chest brushing his. Bradley's brain took a beat longer to respond than his heart did, but when you tilted your face up to his and let your eyes flutter shut, he closed the distance to your lips with his.

And it was perfect. The softest kiss of his life, but he could feel his entire body responding to you. With a soft gasp, you released his lips, but you didn't go far. When you met his eyes, you must have liked what you saw there, because you kissed him again. And again. And when Bradley guided your other hand around his neck, you kissed him a little deeper.

"Oh," you gasped, running your nose along his cheek as your fingers teased the back of his neck. When your lips met his again, he held you close with his hands on your lower back, and Bradley decided he could do this forever. All of it. The pink flowers and decorating the tree and the perfect kisses.

Then the front door knob rattled, and you broke away from his lips. Your eyes looked hazy at first, and you had the prettiest smile on your face before you pulled yourself out of his grasp as Ellie came inside. Your daughter looked back and forth between the two of you as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and Bradley winced as Ellie asked him, "Who are you?"

-----------------------------

Bradley! I mean, Santa! Where is your beard?! I hope you loved part one! Part two is coming soon. This one took a village so thank you to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @cherrycola27

PART 2

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caffinated-and-sleepy · 2 months

Text

Part 1

Thranduil with a human SO

Meeting Thranduil

- Realistically I don’t think Thranduil would ever let himself get close to a new other half that’s human

- Thranduil would never be ready to watch his significant other die again especially that quickly, after all 50 years is a blink of an eye for an elf

- Throwing what is realistic out the window let’s say he does find a human significant other

- Even then you have to be a VERY intriguing human to catch his eye

- Most likely you met him when he and his guard stopped at Lake Town on the way to Erebor

- He was entranced by how you treated him like a normal person

- It was strange, most mortals trembled before his 7ft tall frame

- Not you, you simply welcomed him to the Inn and left to help clean the bar

- Of course Thranduil didn’t intend to sit at the bar at all considering he could easily drink wine that didn’t taste like piss in Mirkwood

- But he convinces himself he’s just being a good King by going down and checking on his soldiers

- Of course his soldiers were doing well, many of them where testing out how many ales they could hold down they found it was 74 pints

- You were now in front of the bar sweeping and humming a low melody under your breath

- He goes to grab your attention and moves besides you, only for you to crash into him

- Thranduil catches you by the hand and for a minute the two of you simply looked like you were dancing

- “Are you alright?”

- You blush with a sweet smile on your face (me writing this: do it, write the line. NOOOO I CAN’T. Don’t be a wuss do it! IT’S SO GENERIC. DO IT. )

- “Looks like I fell for you.” (I’m sorry) Thranduil is beyond taken aback and processes what you said after he fully pulls you up.

- His response is a strange look and “I’m glad your alright.” and he disappears to his room.

- You don’t see him the next morning either since he and his soldier left for Erebor when dawn broke

- Little did you know the King of Mirkwood had trouble sleeping that night

- When they came back through Lake Town Thranduil was exhausted

- Lacking sleep and arguing with pig-headed dwarves can do a lot to an elf

- After checking back into the inn he finds you working again and decided to once more check on his soldiers

- After glancing over all of them he turns his eyes towards you, he then proceeds to listen in on your conversation with the owner’s nephew; Thaine

- “I don’t get why you’re still here? You could be at home by now.” The boy looked to be turning into a man (18ish)

- You shrugged “I like listening to the elves, Síndarian sounds beautiful! It runs off the tongue with such elegance and it brings about a sense of calm.

- The boy replies “That’s great y/n but I don’t think you should be in the commons alone and I need to head home soon. Mother said to be home before midnight.”

- Looking at the boy you sighed and said “Alright, just let me pack up and tell the customers.”

- Before you say anything to the other elves Thranduil butts in after leaving his eavesdropping corner (I sWeAr I wAs DrOpPiNg No EaVeS sIr!)

- “I can watch over both her and my own men if she wishes to stay.” He looks to you with the slight raise of his eyebrows.

- Looking to Thaine you immediately reply “Absolutely fine with me!” With a wide smile right after.

- Shaking his head with a shrug Thain says goodbye and walks out

- Finally alone with the king you opt to break the silence

- “You do not have to stay if you do not wish to. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your bed.” You almost looked guilty as if second guessing taking Thranduil’s offer

- Thranduil was now also surprised at how genuine you seemed, you a mere mortal was just worried he wasn’t getting enough sleep

- His face betrays him as he shows some sense of curiosity and amusement “It is quite alright, I do not usually sleep much until we arrive back at Mirkwood. I find that sleeping on rocks throw out ones back.”

- You couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp and let slip “So the rumor is true? The dwarves sleep on rocks?!”

- At this point he couldn’t tell if the human was dumb or dense, but he instead went with uneducated

- For the rest of the night you asked questions about the race of dwarves and elves

- The soldiers silently questioned why the King took an interest in a human, but they kept quiet

- Thranduil did his best to answer your questions, at one point he even smirked instead of giving you a blank stare

- The next day Thranduil felt a bit disappointed when leaving, you were the most intriguing human he had met in a while.

- Although something Thranduil didn’t say was that the dwarves didn’t actually sleep on rocks he is just a diva who missed his ultra plush bed in Mirkwood

Why is it kinda giving gen z reader? Nah but I swear it’s like a tradition to randomly post a Thranduil Imagine every few months, my Tolkien Curse. Anyways I hope you enjoyed and please comment, repost and like!

#the hobbit #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil headcanon #lotr x reader #The Tolkien Curse

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 6 months

Text

A Night of Firsts

In which you, dear reader, are the object of a certain druid's desires and agree to meet him for a night of passion...it also happens to be your first time. NSFW

You’re so nervous as you walk through the woods.

What if he hates what he sees? What if I’m awful? What if—

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of the man who had asked you to meet him---the tall druid with the kind heart. Leaning against a tree, you noticed the very large muscles in his arms seemed tense. Is he nervous? Surely not? He’s older than you’ll ever be, and surely…

“Forgive me.” He offered a rueful smile as he turned to face you. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”

You were taken aback by his words. Didn’t think I’d show up? For him? “I-I wouldn’t dream of it.” You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying desperately not to appear just as nervous as he is. “Sorry to have kept you waiting, Halsin.”

He holds up his hand and smiles ruefully. “Oh! I didn’t mean to imply you’re late. Tis a beautiful night.” Chuckling, he looks apologetic. “Forgive me once more, my dear. It’s been some time since I’ve been with a lover.”

Before you have time to think, to consider what words you would say next, they tumble out of you. “Well, I’ve never even had one!”

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

OH GODS!

Why did I say that?!

Halsin, thankfully unaware that you wish the earth so he loves would swallow you whole, stares at you with his mouth agape. “You…truly? It’s not that it’s a bad thing, mind you. I’m simply surprised. Surely there are those in the city who have…” He chuckles again, and you cannot help but notice how seemingly boyish he looks in that moment. “No. Maybe it’s your choice, and it’s—”

“Not by choice.” You say quietly, looking down at the ground. You remember all the times your affections were rejected---both gently and not---and your heart breaks a little. Sometimes it was as pleasant as it could be. Sometimes it was awful. Other times, though, you were told that no one would ever love a woman of your size. “No one chooses to fuck a fatty” was what the last one said to me. You did not realize you were crying until a rough, calloused thumb touched your cheek.

“My heart, let me dry your tears.” He gently wiped away the tears with one hand, while the other rested on your waist. “You are loved…and desired. Very much so.” As your eyes met his, you felt reassured by his warm smile. “I will be gentle of course. I want this to be—”

You cannot help yourself. “Just as nature intended?” You grin, your nose wrinkling just a little.

He barks a laugh. “I was going to say, ‘wonderful for you’ but sure, my heart, that works too.” His other hand fell to the other side of your waist, and he squeezed gently. “So beautiful. I am honored to be your first, dear one.” His large hands traveled up and down your sides, only the thin fabric of your nightshirt between his touch and your skin. “You’re so soft and inviting…” He stepped back and within a moment his clothes were off.

Oh.

OH.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

You could not help but wet your lips upon seeing him.

He is so big. Everything about him is big. His heart. His kindness. His gentleness.

HIS HUGE COCK.

“Cat got your tongue, my heart?” Halsin teased, stepping back towards you, his massive hands on your shoulders.

“More like a bear, love.” You hesitate for a moment, trying to gather the courage to remove your own clothes. What if he—

He placed a gentle kiss on your head. “Take your time. We’ve no rush.”

Oh, you sweet, wonderful bear elf man. You hesitate for a second before speaking. “I-it’s not that. I’m just being silly…”

Enveloping you in his arms, he shook his head. “Whatever it is, it’s not silly or else you wouldn’t be so bothered, my heart. What troubles you?”

What’s been troubling me since I was a little girl. What troubles me every time I express interest in someone and get rejected. What troubles me when I feel the stares every time I eat. You close your eyes, screwing them shut. “I want this…want you more than anything…I-I’m sorry about how I look.”

“Why be sorry when you have nothing to be sorry for?” He buried his head in your hair, breathing in your scent. “You are the loveliest of nature’s creations.” His large hands roamed over your thin nightshirt. “And you feel…” Halsin moaned. “Incredible.”

With how close the two of you were, you could feel his enormous muscles and how hard he was. If he truly believes that I’m beautiful, then I should trust him. Believe him. Let him love me because gods do I want him. “So do you, Halsin.” You whisper, tentatively running your hands up his chest. Karlach said to be bold and brave in love, so I shall! Getting on the tips of your toes, you lean up to kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck.

As his lips meet yours, he grunts and lifts you off the ground slightly in a massive bear-like hug. OH MY GODS!!?!?! Though it ends as quickly as it began, you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest not out of nerves but because you never thought that would ever happen. “Gods,” you breathe, your generous bosom rising and falling rapidly. “I—”

He smirked a little, still holding you. “I take it you liked that then?”

If anyone doesn’t like that, then they should have their head examined. You chuckle, step back, and begin to pull off your nightshirt. Halsin licks his lips in anticipation, watching your every move. While you still feel self-conscious, Halsin’s presence does calm you slightly. The cool night air sends a shiver up your spine, your nipples hardening due not only to the temperature but also your arousal.

Just as you are about to pull down your trousers, Halsin shakes his head. “Please, my heart. Allow me.” His voice is soft as he pushes your hands off the waistband. He hooks his very large fingers inside and ever so slowly pulls them and your smalls down. “Oak Father preserve me, such beauty!” You gasp as he gets on his knees, pulling your trousers and smalls past your big fat butt. He stops for a moment, his extremely large hands cupping your behind. “Nature made you so supple, so soft, my heart.” Spending a few moments rubbing your ass, he places several kisses along your lower belly.

Gods, I’m burning up. He hasn’t done anything yet, and I’m already a quivering mess. You glance down at him and notice his hazel eyes glowing gold. “Love?”

He continues his ministrations, small growls escaping him. “The bear grows more wild every second. All because of you.” Halsin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “But I will not go into wildshape tonight. Not for your first time. There will be other nights…other nights when,” he groaned, burying his face in the curls at the apex of your thighs. “I can put a ‘cub’ or two in you.”

You blink. You did not think it was possible for you to be even more turned on, but somehow the druid managed it. You manage to get a squeak out as you unconsciously rub your thick thighs together.

Halsin chuckles. “Does that excite you, my heart? Your scent tells me yes. Your movements tell me yes.” His hands gripped her thighs as he pressed kisses to them. “But do you say?”

Taking yet another page from Karlach, you lean down and tilt his face up, “Fuck yeah.” DEFINITELY INTERESTED IN THAT. “Should I, erm…my pants…?”

He nods quickly. “Forgive me, of course. Let me,” he pulls your trousers all the way down, admiring you. You step out of them (finally) and are completely bare to him. And he likes this. Likes me. I can’t even believe it, but it’s true. You cannot help but blush, your arms crossing your ample chest. “You truly are nature’s most beautiful creation, my heart.” He clears his throat, still looking at you at a goddess. “Let’s lie down.”

When he’s in wildshape, then I’ll get my ass cacked in dirt and mud. Tonight however, it’s a bed. You smirk as you snap your fingers, and within moments, a king-size bed, surrounded by candles and lanterns, appears in the forest. I’m a sorceress. This is child’s play.

Halsin begins to laugh and then pulls you into a hug. “Don’t fancy a romp on nature’s floor tonight, my love? Though I must say, this is quite romantic.” Kissing your head, he sighs happily. “Here’s hoping I can live up to it by giving you everything you deserve and more.”

You kiss his chest before sitting at the edge of the bed, slowly pushing yourself backwards up to a pile of fluffy pillows. “No matter what it will be, love.”

“That you have such confidence in me is reassuring.” He teases, grabbing his rock-hard cock and squeezing the tip slightly. “But before we begin, you need to know that all this,” he moaned as he ran his hand up and down his swollen length. “is because of you. You’re beautiful inside and out. So, so beautiful…” He murmurs and begins to crawl up to you. “When I look at you, I see a goddess of abundance---in kindness, heart, courage,” he pushes your thick thighs apart and stares hungrily at your throbbing cunt. He grips your thick, soft thighs, kneading them. “Softness…such sweet softness, my heart.” He looks at you expectantly.

You can only nod in return. You are seemingly unable to find your voice as he grins and then starts to utterly devour you. Without thinking, you begin to tug his hair. “Oh gods, I’m so—” You say quickly and loosening your grip.

“Pull if you wish, my heart. I don’t mind.” He chuckles, his hazel eyes full of mirth. He then returns to licking and sucking you, moaning loudly all the while. As for you, you cannot stop tugging on his long hair, the feel of his braids on your fingers somehow sexier than seeing them. Gods, Halsin… His hands squeeze your hips to prevent you from moving too much, and you not so secretly want him to hold your hips more often. It’s hot. Him touching me likes this makes me feel so sexy. So desirable. Never felt like this before.

“Hal-Halsin, fucking hells…” You manage to get out as one of your hands starts to knead one of your breasts. Want more. Want him all over me. In me. Any way I can have him.

He lifts his head slightly, the amused look still in his eyes. “That’s it. Good girl. Keep touching yourself. There’s a good girl.” As he dives back into your cunt, one of the hands on your hip travels to your lower belly.

The coil inside you seems to get tighter and tighter as his tongue laps at you, as he touches you, and as you touch yourself. And all too soon for you, the coil snaps and you thrust upwards into Halsin. You feel as if you black out for a moment or two, and when you come to, Halsin has the remnants of some of your spend on his lips.

“You taste sweeter than honey, dear one. I cannot wait to find out how you feel around me.” He leans over you, and you suddenly feel so small and I’m not small! Though no matter how imposing his size is, his expression is gentle. “I’m going to use a finger or two first, my heart. As you can see, I’m quite…large. I don’t want you to be in any pain. However,” he offered a toothy grin. “I think you’re wet enough for me.”

As one of his fingers enters you, you determine quite quickly that you are not prepared for even how large the finger is. You squirm and gasp, feeling so deliciously full from just one of his fingers. “Love, please…need more…”

“You’re sure you’re in any pain, my heart?” He asks, his nose nuzzling yours.

“No, just want more of you. Please.”

His lips gently kiss yours, a second finger now entering you. You moan wantonly as his inhumanly large and very sexy fingers stretch you. “Do you think you’re ready for me?”

FUCK YES! “Gods yes, please.” You beg, panting as he removes his fingers.

Within seconds, you can feel the blunt tip of his engorged member at your entrance. “I will go slow, my heart, and be gentle.” He seems like he’s more telling himself that than me. Oh Halsin, I trust you. Slowly, he moves inch by inch.

I believe Astarion would call this “exquisite torture.” It feels like he’s tearing me apart while I want more. More. More of him. Gods, please. You babble incoherently, ranging from praise to sweet nothings.

Loud grunts and honeyed words fall from Halsin’s lips as he finally is fully hilted inside you. You both moan at the same time, and you nod at him to continue.

He thrusts gently the first few times, but then he picks up the pace. His pelvis collides with yours, faster and faster.

“My love, come again for me. I know you can do it. I know you can.” He pants, his hazel eyes gazing into yours. “Be a good girl and come for me. Just one more time. You can do it.”

That is all you need as you scream your second release, and your vision turns white. You are vaguely aware of Halsin burying his head into your shoulder, his nails digging into your wide, soft hips. He comes yelling your name. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, his seed spilling in you. When he is finished, Halsin wraps his arms around you and rolls you both on your sides. One arm is snugly around your thick waist, while the other is caressing your cheek.

“Well, that was,” you smile softly. “amazing. Will it be like that every time, love?”

He chuckles. “If that is your desire, then yes. We still have so much to explore together, my heart. In fact,” his eyes turn golden as he grins. “should you desire it, more of myself would like to—”

Halsin does not finish the sentence.

You are already kissing him passionately.

It’s bear time.

And yes, I do desire it.

#plus size reader #halsin bg3 #halsin #halsin x reader #body image issues #this fic literally took on a life of its own and i'm not sorry #plus size unnamed tav #halsin wants you just as nature intended #plus size reader bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction

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whaledenwtf · 5 months

Text

Halsin x Dryad!Reader - The Summer Solstice

IM BACK BITCHES!!! Instead of doing my presentation for university I'm typing this. You're welcome.

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link All other links will be at the end of the fic!! ENJOY

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), BEACH SEX YEAH, Size Difference, Oh Yeah Did I Mention MATING PRESS

Once again, my efforts to keep him as true to character have been made. :)

WORD COUNT: 3630

Link to some Summer Solstice Rituals I reference here: LINK

You couldn't help but be impressed. It was the summer solstice, and the Arch Druid of the Emerald Grove handling the rituals of the day was excelling. Excelling enough to gain the attentions of Silvanus himself. You were watching his back from behind an oak tree, admiring the musculature. He was tall, strong. You liked that. Your mind flitted between the mortal and what had happened earlier in the day. The Oak Father presented himself to you in your mind earlier today, expressing his excitement of one of his followers.

"His name is Halsin. He has excelled in many of the rituals and in assisting nature. He has even reached Arch Druid status." He had said offhandedly. You were always a curious Dryad, and knew you had to investigate. You knew Silvanus was meddling but you haven't been around mortals in decades. You wanted to join the festivities after all; the summer solstice was your favourite holiday! The flowers are already in full bloom, the summer air is sweet with the smell of hydrangeas and peonies. You knew many of your companions were celebrating on their own, with nature and chosen company. You decide to get a little closer to the celebrations, walking out from behind the oak tree you were hiding behind. Many of the druids turned to look at you and gasped. Many of them dropped their lutes and violins, the sounds of nature becoming louder in the sudden silence. Many of them came to you, with offerings of honeyed mead and flower crowns. You crouch down to a small elf child holding a marigold and lavender crown.

"Little one, may I wear your crown?" They look at their parents for guidance before nodding and placing the crown above your head. It blooms further once it is placed upon you, and the smell of lavender wafts around the air. You pluck one of the lavender buds from your crown and put it behind the child's ear, smiling.

"Now we match." The child giggles in wonder, before running to hide behind her mother's leg, watching you in glee. You rise to stand, only to notice the Arch Druid had turned around to watch you. You are stunned by his beauty. His face is angular, with a tattoo on the right side and a gruesome bear scar on the left. He was perfect, in your eyes. You smile at the crowd you attracted, before walking past them to reach Halsin. When you get close, you smell him and are enamored further. Pine, musk and cedar. You can understand why Silvanus had sung his praises; he was the embodiment of nature.

"We haven't had a dryad join in our festivities yet. May Silvanus preserve you." You bow dramatically, the vines and leaves that make up your clothing sway beautifully behind you.

"An honour it is to meet you, Arch Druid Halsin. Your reputation precedes you." He chuckles, his voice deep and booming.

"I hope you heard all good things I hope." He smirks down at you, hazel eyes glistening in the twilight. The last beams of sunlight shine on the both of you. You glow with a radiance, like water reflecting sunlight, and he is attracted to you. Your beauty, your essence, is all captivating.

"Silvanus has only sung your praises, Halsin. I had hoped to see you in person and was graced by your ceremony. Wonderfully done." He blushes, the tips of his ears burning crimson. He seems at shock from your words; Silvanus has praised him? He feels truly blessed. You turn to look at the onlookers, who were still gazing at your beauty.

"Please, continue your celebrations. The Oak Father wishes you all enjoy yourselves in the time of festivities. Enjoy nature as he intended." You words were clear, and not a moment later, did everyone begin celebrating again. You turn back to Halsin, who is watching you in wonder. You blush lightly under his gaze, before sidestepping to look at the altar of light.

"Beautiful spread. I see you added citrine and pyrite; as well as some local blooms." That seems to snap him out of his spell and he nods.

"The celebration of the solstice is one I take very seriously." You turn to look at him over your shoulder.

"May I?" He waves over the altar, allowing you to do your magic. Your eyes begin to glow green, and sunflowers begin to bloom in your hand. You lay them aesthetically on the altar, smiling.

"Thank you." He tells you earnestly. You giggle at his enthusiasm, smiling as you turn back to him.

"Of course-" You look at the horizon, noticing the the sun had set. "Well, I believe it is time for the bonfire and feast! Oh, I haven't been to solstice festivities in years." You tell him excitedly.

"Join us." He tells you. You smile widely at him, and his heart flutters in his chest.

"I'd love to. I'll dance- oh and sing! I'm so excited!" You are buzzing in place. He finds it adorable. His hand goes to the small of your back ushering you forward.

"Go on! Enjoy yourself." His hand feels warm on your skin, and you blush.

"What about you?" He waves you off.

"I tend to look over the festivities. Have to make sure we do not lose any cubs." You bite your lip, thinking. You had an idea.

"What if I ask you to celebrate with me? Would you join then?" His gaze glances down at your lips before meeting your eyes.

"I can make an exception, for such a beautiful guest." You blush once again. He smirks as your skin darkens, and he can't help but wonder if that blush shows up on other parts of your body, hidden to his eyes.

"Then I will make sure to save a dance for you." You go on your tippy-toes, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, before running forward into the fray. His hand holds his face where you had kissed him, and he smiles. He can't wait.

You had spent the last hour dancing with the children of the Grove. You were showing them the dryad's dance, a sensual dance with a lot of swirling; your arms swaying. Like a willow tree you wave and sway, the wind following your movements. Your eyes catch Halsin watching at you, a heat in his gaze. At the end of the dance, you end with a flourish, arms spread up towards the moon. Flowers and flower petals fall over the children, who squeal and giggle excitedly. They come to hug you and you pet many of them, sprouting daisies and marigolds to give to each child. Once they receive their gifts, they run around the grove, chasing each other and playing. The music changes to a very familiar tune. The musicians begin playing "Down by the River", and you begin to sing. Your voice, ethereal and otherworldly echoes in nature. You begin to dance, voice still echoing. Like a siren, Halsin felt the pull of your voice, and began to edge closer to you subconsciously. Once he gets close enough, you grab his wrist, tugging him into a dance. You begin to circle one another, one of your hands palm to palm with one another. You continue to sing, your gazes locked. He is entranced by you.

"Down, down, down by the river." You end the song, twirling around Halsin. You both bow at one another, as everyone applauds you both.

"Thank you for the dance." He tells you huskily. You squirm under his gaze.

"I was hoping for more than one dance." You tell him quietly. He feels particularly emboldened by your response, and puts his hand around your waist.

"What were you thinking of?" He asks you quietly. Your hands lay on his chest.

"Perhaps we can celebrate the solstice together... privately." He hums, his arms pulling you closer to him. You feel his strength through your close bodies, and admire him further, hands caressing his chest, mapping his body.

"What of my duties?" He asks you. He doesn't seem to want to decline. You look around, noticing everyone having fun and participating in ritualistic dances.

"Meet me near the shoreline after the last song has ended and nature's music is loud again. I will wait for you." Your lips graze his gently. You taste like freshwater and thyme. His lips become numb, and his mind is emptied of all rational thought. His eyes glow amber as he watches you walk to the shore, hips swaying. A low growl leaves his chest, and he almost transforms into a bear. He can't help but curse his need to diligently do his duties. This night will feel eternal.

When the last notes of music have died down, and all that is left of the large bonfire is embers, he seeks your company. The night is dark, lit by glowing mushrooms and occasional group of fireflies. His path is dark, but he has never felt such peace. He walks the path to the shoreline, where your voice carries as you sing; the sound of crashing waves accompanying your music. His heart beats loudly in his ears, the tips of them twitching in his excitement. In all his years of existence, he has never lain with a dryad. It seems surprising, for many of his years he had taken an extensive amount of lovers, all of which were of many different races and ages. His bare feet finally hit the sand, and he sinks slightly in his continued path to you. He sees your ears twitch before you turn around, smiling.

"I was beginning to get concerned." You tell him softly. Your voice was gentle, and the emotions that burst forward from his heart urged him to speed in his walk to you, almost sprinting.

"You needn't be concerned of me." You rise to greet him, hands stretch out. He gets close enough to grasp them, and pulls you forward. You land on his chest, and are forced to look up at him. The stars are reflecting beautifully in your eyes. They are focused on his own gaze, and he has never felt more grateful for all of the actions, faults and obstacles in his life that had brought him here; with you.

"Can I not be concerned for someone I care about?" He blushes at the remark, and you notice the druid's skin darken. His hands let go of your own to grasp the sides of your face.

"You care?" You bite your lip, watching his amorous gaze.

"When Silvanus spoke of you, I must admit it was not the first time I've heard of the admirable and fearless Arch Druid Halsin. Your bravery and attunement to nature always attracted me to the idea of you. Now that I stand before you, my heart beats in tune with yours; the idea of any other being is far away in my mind. You take the forefront of many of my thoughts, and have been for the entirety of the day." His hands pull your face forward, his lips smashing against yours. This kiss was unlike the other; passion, excitement and need were felt in this kiss. You moan against him, and his tongue takes advantage of your lowered defenses. Your tongues move against each other languidly, caressing one another. You pull away from him, only to push him down so he is laying in the sand. You sit atop his lap, and begin kissing him again.

He decided that if lightning had struck him in this moment, he'd die the happiest man alive. Such words and attentions he had never heard, especially from the lips of someone he's come to admire so much. The world around them dissipated, and all that was left was them and time indefinite- your words and touches, your two souls joining in nature's basest form of love. His hands caress the sides of your body, his touch igniting heat wherever they touch, a heat blossoming in the very core of your being.

When air becomes a necessity for you both, you separate. You begin to pull his ceremonial tunic upwards, before laying it gently next to you both, taking care in the important garb. His pants are next, and his undergarments fall with them. You kneel between his legs and admire him. It seems Silvanus had taken great care in his looks, and his personality. If you hadn't known better, you'd believe him a god; crafted from your mind's eye. In a moment, he lifts himself up to remove your dryadic clothing, mostly leaves and vines, so he could gaze upon you. Once both naked, your touches become lighter, hovering over him ever so slightly. His skin breaks out in goosebumps, the hairs rising slightly.

"Your beauty is one I never thought I could ever gaze upon." You tell him sweetly. His eyes leave your face for a moment to gaze at the rest of you.

"Sitting here, with you, shows me that some of nature's greatest beauties are ones I hadn't had the chance to gaze upon yet. No words can even begin to describe how I see you in this moment; your beauty cannot be fully grasped with something as limiting as words." You crawl further up into the crevice of his thighs, your belly rubbing against his hardened member. Your noses are touching now, and you are exchanging each other's air.

"I need you." You whimper, and one of his hands grasp the back of your neck, under the thickness of your hair to pull you into a savouring kiss. His other hand goes to tread the path of your body; from grasping and playing with the pebbled peaks of your breasts, to caressing your bountiful curves to the apex of your thighs. You moan into his mouth as his thick fingers tickle the outline of your cunt, feeling the wetness that has gathered there. He moans when he realizes truly how wet you had become. His fingers then dip in between the seam of your cunt, to gather some of your nectar before separating from your lips to taste you.

His eyes flash golden at the taste of you on his tongue. Your wanton moan turns into a shriek as he pulls you up until your cunt is levelled with his mouth.

"I'm going to savour you now. Devour you, until you cannot stand, and your voice is strained. May I taste you, sweet one?" You respond to him by laying your full weight on his face. He wastes no time in savouring your scent, and... devouring you. His tongue explores your depths, as his nose bumps into your clit. You grind on him, juices flowing down his chin. He grabs your plush thighs, grinding you harder into him. He pulls away for a moment to release his grab on one of your thighs before plunging two of his thick fingers into you and sucking on your pearl. You will not last with his attentions. He is feasting on you, your moans and pants urging him further.

"That's right, my little lavender. Finish on my tongue and fingers. Cum for me." The authoritative tone his voice took shook you to your core, and you finish on his fingers and talented tongue. With a moan, your juices leak out of you. He begins to lick your mess, moaning at the taste of your essence. His grip on your thighs have waned enough for you to scramble away, legs shaking. You land with a thump on the ground between his thighs, grasping his cock in your hand. You stroke him once, then twice, before rubbing the pad of your thumb on his head and spreading his precum around. You pull away to taste him, and moan. He growls at your debauchery.

"I'm going to taste you, Halsin. Need to taste you." You huff out as if out of breathe, before taking him in your hand again. Your lips descend on him, tasting him. Your tongue was heavenly on him, and he grasped your hair in his hands, bucking into you. You moan around him, taking him to the back of your throat. He grunts at your attentions, grasp tightening. You pull away for a moment, taking deep breathes before looking him in the eye and taking him further into your mouth. You reach the patch of hair at his base, the tip of his cock hitting the furthest parts of your throat.

"O-oh. Fuck-" Hearing him lose his sense of self, and the fact he uttered an expletive made you feverish, and you began to deepthroat him, ushering him to thrust into your mouth. He takes advantage of your wants, thrusting into you. Your hands move upwards, fondling his heavy sack. Without warning he thrusts deep, finishing in your throat. You swallow as much as you could, the taste of him tart but delicious; you want more. You continue to suck and bob up and down his member, until he cums again, shaking and groaning loudly. You pull off of him, gathering the cum and spittle that leaked from your mouth and putting it back in your mouth, savouring him. He watches you with hunger. He sits up and growls, exciting you. His eyes glow amber, and without warning he transforms into a brown cave bear. You bite your lip at the transformation, aroused by his show of strength. He transforms back into his elvish form, stumbling.

"I-I'm so sorry, I transform when my baser... urges become too much." You shake your head, before sitting down and spreading your legs. Your hand spreads your cunt open, and he watches how your thighs and lips glisten with arousal.

"Breed me, my bear." His eyes flash golden again, but he refrains from transforming again. His arms grasp your thighs and pull them to your shoulders. You're bent in half, and the tip of his still very hard cock is poking at your entrance.

"Please Halsin. Take me. Make me yours." You tell him, urging him to thrust into you. He grunts and thrusts into you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your back arches off the sand, breasts pressed against his chest. Your lips meet again, teeth clashing at the force of your kisses. His thrusts are rough, and he continues to hit that sweet spot. You keen in his mouth, and he chuckles breathlessly. He continues his pace, hitting that spot effortlessly each time. His hips grind against your clit with each thrust, and your body is overstimulated quickly. You know you will not last long, his passion and accuracy in driving you wild bringing you closer to your precipice.

His lips leave yours, before latching onto your neck and biting you. You caterwaul at the action, gripping his triceps tightly. Your nails are digging into the skin, but he does not care. He is selfish in this moment, wishing you would stay like this with him forever, until the world has disintegrated around them. He removes his teeth from your neck, before his lips latch onto your nipple and suckle from them. Its too much, and you arch your back painfully as you finish. Your constricting walls bring him to completion, your cunt milking his cock. You whimper as you feel his heavy load inside you, leaking around his cock. He thrusts again, and both of you seize with sensitivity. He pulls out of you gently, before laying down next to you. His arm pulls you onto his chest, and you bask in his warmth.

"I'm sorry." He whispers to you. Your head snaps up to look at him. He looks upset, his brows furrowed.

"What's wrong, my bear?" He shakes his head.

"I'm selfish. I'm afraid for the sun's rise for that may take you away from me forever. I... I do not want to let you go, my love." Your eyes get misty, and your hug him fiercely.

"Why apologize? If I could I'd spend eternity in your embrace." His arms wrap around you, holding you to him tightly.

"But you cannot." He whispers. A tear leaves your eyes.

"I'm afraid not. But I can promise to come to you again. When the wind wafts the smell of lavender and marigolds in the air, that will be me calling to you." He closes his eyes and savours his last moments with you.

"Then let us enjoy what time we have left." You nod, wiping your tears from your eyes.

Until sunrise, he spends his time with you in silence, basking in your company. He has never felt such loss when the person has not left his embrace. This time with you has changed him, and he does not know how he can continue his devotion and duties after meeting you. When the dawn breaks, you're moving out of his arms, heartbroken.

"I will visit you as soon as I can." You promise him, getting dressed in your dryadic dress. He pulls his clothes onto his body, which has become cold without your touch.

"I will not forget this moment with you-" He pauses, frowning at his realization. "And… What is your name?" He asks you, cringing as he realizes his poor manners. You look over your shoulder, smiling gently as the sun hits your body.

"(Y/N). Hopefully fate allows us another moment together, my handsome bear." You disappear with a flourish, fully bloomed lavender and marigolds left where you were standing. Y/N… Your name is sweet on his tongue, sweeter than the taste of you. He can never forget a name as sweet as yours, a name that will probably stay branded on his brain until his last breathe.

THE END.

If you'd like to request anything, please do so! I'm getting back into writing and I'd love to write anything inspired by the people! Send requests here: LINK Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: LINK

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #smut #halsin smut #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x dryad!reader #oh yeah we get sex #sex time #you call him my bear #i want him so bad #need his tree trunk arms around me NOW #im attracted to pixels help

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aviradasa · 3 months

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The sight of two stars

Aaravos x Startouched elf! Reader

(art from Pinterest if you know the original artist let me know so I can give proper credit!!)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

{Fluff}

warning: none

I had this idea for a while about Aaravos with a reader who likes to find constellations on his skin and I started this oneshot expecting it to take a completely different path but I love how it turned out and I'm low key proud with the idea. The execution is not my best work but we have fun here!😂. Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy! I hope this will be able to hold you over for a few more days as I have 3 more one shots/images in the making that should come out shortly! Anyway, it's almost 3 am and I have to drive for 5 hours back home tomorrow 😭.

(ps:I had to make up a constellation for this that sounded more magical so I did! But all the other constellations are either from the show or a real constellation!)

Don't forget you can leave a request! I will link my master list here make sure you read before requesting! Love you all my little goblins 🖤

I have always loved the night sky And everything that belongs to it. I've especially always been drawn to constellations. The way the stars are set just perfectly to make a work of art when in reality they are so far from one another that they are not aware that their portrait is beautiful in a way.

It's been so long since I was able to gaze upon them. Being imprisoned for centuries with no windows or fresh air is a burden in itself, But losing my Night sky, it almost felt like I had lost myself. Well, I didn't lose all of myself. My lovely husband keeps me Sane (When he's not driving me Insane).

He's the reason I’m here in the first place. What is it with dragons anyway, It was just a couple of war crimes and whatnot, And I wasn't even involved. With the crimes that is. yes, I may have given my lovely starman some ideas every once in a while, But I never got my hands dirty. I was just a performer, Singing and dancing in town squares, Taverns, inns you name it. But alas here we are. Here I am. Stuck in this hell, with no sky, just that Damned mirror. I hate that mirror, Well I hate being in range of that mirror. To know someone could be watching me from the other side unnerves me and I avoid it at all cost.

I hear the door open to the room I have placed myself in, another room in this prison. It's a little library with books on all sorts of things. it's my favorite spot in this wretched place. My little slice of heaven.

I glance up from my book watching Aaravos enter the room with that cloak on, I can’t help but love the way he looks in it, and with the way I look at him, I’m worse than any man.

“My love, Why do you gaze at me in such a way? I can feel your eyes from here” He teases, taking his cloak off and hanging in on a small hook by the tall doors before looking over at me with that Smirk he gives. I love this elf but by the Divines why must he do this?

I shake my head with a chuckle, placing my bookmark in the spot I left off before closing my book. Setting it down gently on the table beside the little sofa I've curled up on. “ Am I not allowed to admire you?.’ I jokingly ask with a small grin as I allow him to take a seat beside me.“So how was your dramatic entrance? Did that Dark mage see you this time like you wanted?” I ask turning to face him resting my arm on the back of the sofa and using my hand to prop up my head.

“Everything went according to plan. His candle went out. I went in, confused him, and left. Just as Intended.” He tells me with a cocky smile.

“Now everything should fall into place, he’s a curious desperate, power-hungry human. That is just the combination we are looking for if we wish to get out of here.” I say with some excitement,

“but my love do not get cocky yet because if one little piece is lost, broken, or forgotten, we will be stuck here. And If we are stuck in here for another century I will skin you alive.” I warn with a stern expression before I chuckle a bit.

He laughs a bit “ No you wouldn’t, 'cause then you would be all alone in this place and we both know you couldn't take that.” He says pulling me closer to his side.

“What are you talking about? Some peace and quiet would be lovely. Maybe then I could finish my book.” I joke as I adjust to get a bit more comfortable. “Ah yes, what book are you reading currently again? It was something to do with the differences between human interpretations of constellations and Elven interpretations correct?” he asks genuinely curious about my interest,

He remembers my love of the night like no other, for he loved it as well. but now it's hard to remember what it's like. Of course, there are illustrations in the books but those illustrations can only capture so much, yes some books do better than others but the true beauty of the night sky can only truly be appreciated in person. Well, maybe something can come close.

“Yes that's right, and honestly humans need to get a bit more creative. I mean they Named Garlath the Annihilator the Big Spoon… Because they thought it looked like a spoon." I say with sarcasm as I roll my eyes. “ and also they call Leolas' last wish the South Star. Talk about imagination.'' I speak with disappointment. Aaravos just simply chuckles “Those names the humans gave them came to be long before this generation, they are simple and easy for their minds to comprehend but I do agree they were quite lazy.” he says in agreement.

I think he gives them too much credit. but what can I say I lost patience with humans during my time performing. Aaravos on the other hand has plenty, but then again he was more respected by them due to the whole giving them magic ordeal which I understand but still, humans are like an annoying younger sibling. you love them and would do what you could to protect them from others, but you would definitely rip their vocal cord out and strangle them with it as soon as they call you ugly.

I sigh “Perhaps I'm a bit harsh on them sometimes, but I can't help it. I feel like I'm losing my mind here, I'm not even sure how much time has passed anymore.” I explain as I absentmindedly trace little patterns on his freckled arm that rests around my waist, as I'm doing this a particularly bright star freckle brings my mind back into focus and I notice something. “Wait a moment…” I say suddenly as Aaravos gives me a confused look “What is it?” he asks simply before I place my thumb over the spot on his arm to not lose it reaching over I grab my book and open it to a certain page leaving him to his confusion as i scan the books page.

“Aha! I thought that looked familiar, darling." I say lifting my thumb off the spot on his arm and placing the book's page next to it. The page has an illustration of a constellation on it, and it just so happens that the little star freckles on his arm connect to make the same one. “Hm well isn't that interesting? I had not noticed that none yet ” he says, grabbing the book from my hand to examine it.

“ Well it says that it's called the eye of Izora, it has 8 stars on top making the upper eyelid, and 5 stars that make up the bottom. The iris is made up of 4 stars in between with the pupil being a completely different constellation (Leola’s last wish). The eye has 7 stars above it making it appear as though the eye has three separate eyelashes with another 7 on the bottom doing the same. In the human kingdoms, it's not known” he reads with a hint of interest. He looks between the book and the spot on his wrist where I found the constellation.

“ isn't that interesting? Oh, I just love finding new ones they are harder to find on you than they are on me for some reason.." I tell you with a grin, snatching the book back. I search through the pages as I scan the rest of his arm looking for more connections. this is one of my favorite things to do, I've found plenty of constellations on myself but with Aaravos they are harder to find because he has a lot more stars on him then I do and they make it harder to connect them,

Minutes pass before I find another new one… It was right in front of us but my eyes couldn't make it out right away. “I see one right there but I can't make out what that one is, It's definitely something though. Can you tell what it is?” I ask Aaravos looks at it for a moment, tilting his head to the side a bit trying to get another angle to look at it but failing.

he seems to think for a moment before he grabs a quill out of the inkpot that sits on the end table next to the sofa, he places the tip of the quill on his skin tracing in between the stars on his arm. As I look through the book I hear him hum “It looks like a scorpion look it up in the book I think we finally found it.” he says, showing me the connected lines.

“I think you're right.” I say glancing at his armbefore turning to the next page and seeing the scorpion-like constellation, it matches the one on his arm and I grin “We found it, I knew it was around here somewhere, we all have our star sign on us, yours just was hiding all these years.” I laugh and he does too “I found it once before I believe but I lost it and didn't find it again until now.” he says holding it up

“ well maybe once we get out of here you should get it tattooed so you don't lose where it is again.” I joke And Aaravos laughs a bit “My love you know I would never do that, it's not my style, besides I am already vastly decorated anyways.’ he says in a kind of sassy tone. As we both laugh some more

As the day? Night? Carried on We both continued our search for more constellations on his skin. It wasn't long before we had mapped out at least a dozen from his wrist to his shoulder connecting the stars with thin lines of writing ink that was smudging in some places but neither of us cared because this was one of the few moments where neither of us are frantically searching or planning. It was just us, then again it's always just us, but moments like this bring us back to reality when we didn't even realize we were drifting away from ourselves, and each other. I know we are gonna make it out of this prison one day, and once we do I know it's going to be just the two of us against all of Xadia. But that's ok I know we will be able to take care of it. And at least I'll have my night sky back.

#tdp #tdp rayla #tdp s1 #tdp spoilers #aaravos #tdp claudia #tdp s5 #aaravos x reader #aaravos the dragon prince #tdp aaravos #aaravos x reader smut #tdp callum

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oubliette-odette · 7 months

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The Reluctance of Love Pt. 6

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2148 (average 16 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

Altan POV

It had been ten days since Drunrag left to find a way to stop lordhovid. I didn’t want to tell Drun and worry him, but I was becoming restless with him gone and things got progressively worse for me. The first few days he had left, I felt like I was able to stay composed rather well. I would visit the markets and spend my evenings in the tavern below my room, sometimes playing my lute which helped me to pay for the extra nights that I hadn’t planned on staying there. Some of the patrons would comment on my flushed composure, but I chalked it up to being new in town and unfamiliar with the warm temperature and that I was sensitive to the fire from the giant hearth in the tavern. But there eventually came a boiling point - for lack of a better word - where I would wake up with a flame inside me that was insatiable. There was nothing that could abate how utterly starved I was to be near Drun.

I spent the latter days in my room at the inn, the door locked. The bedsheets were on the floor because they were too much for me. I would try to read or play or write music, but I usually ended up lost in a heated daze, caught between daydreams of Drun and the fuzzy reality around me.

I still felt that hunger in our dreams, though thankfully not as strong. I would see him, see his beautiful austere visage all nervous and quiet. He looked like his skin was cool and I wanted to press my hand to his and let my burning flesh be cooled by his. But he would always hold back. He was so gods damned respectful of my space. And I honestly wish he wouldn’t be. I was dying to be touched by him. I wanted to know what his tusks would feel against my skin as he kissed my neck. Or how those rough hands would run coarsely against my waist.

Gods, I was a mess.

I knew my father would strike me if he ever caught the sight of me during that time. I was overheated, over aroused, and desperate to be touched by a man - an orc no less. All of those things were unacceptable to him.

He could honestly go fuck himself for all I cared.

Those nights, dreaming with Drun were the moments I held my breath for every night. I liked seeing the way his eyes struggled to meet mine, but when they did, he seemed to struggle looking away. I like how when I said his name, his eyes would also grow wide for just a few moments and his lips would twitch to a dazed smile. He was easy to please, incredibly shy and hard to get him to say more than a few words. But I loved asking him questions, I loved watching how deeply he thought about each question, taking his time and pondering. He reminded me of a tree sometimes. He was large like a tree trunk and tall, but he was deeply rooted and not in a hurry to rush to the next thought. Meanwhile I felt like I was nothing more than a squirrel that climbed up and down his limbs again and again and again at rapid speed. Every minute in his presence had my brain whirling at what to say next, to resist telling him how handsome he was to me, to not talk too fast and overwhelm him.

I learned how patient and kind Drun was through those conversations, and it started to make a little more sense each night why this mating situation was so hard for him. For him, he really needed to think things over and really mull over his decisions. Lordhovid took away the chance to think about his choice from him and it really affected how he viewed his people’s culture. I could tell he struggled with the reality that his way of thinking was so different from his family, but I couldn’t help but admire his devotion to his own personal truths.

I never pressed him on how he was doing in his journey. I dreaded to know if he was close to finding a way to stop lordhovid and there was secretly a hope that maybe all of these dream conversations would help him change his mind.

So I didn’t expect it when one afternoon I was laying my head against the pane of glass in my room when suddenly I felt my body temperature reduce - like a fever had broken - and I lifted my head, sensing the clarity and focus I had lacked for so many weeks. Everything was suddenly in intense focus and I looked around my room - an absolute disaster - and realized that I was fine. I was…normal.

I didn’t know what my reaction was at that time. It was stuck between relief at finally being free and my muscles loose from their tension, but also stunned and sad.

Drunrag did it. He had managed to rid himself - and me - of the mating instinct that kept us tied together.

It also meant that Drunrag now had no reason to ever see me again. Nothing was pulling him to me like before. I realized that with a sense of dread and hopelessness. He was so determined to not sleep with me. So determined to be rid of our connection.

Doubt crept in almost immediately - maybe Drun had only been nice to me because he could distract me while he removed lordhovid. Maybe he was only nice to me because I told him he was my first real friend and he felt bad for me. Maybe he won’t come back now that he’s rid of me. Maybe he hated how easy I was to be wanted by him, just like my father hates me for it. Should I wait for him? Do I tell him everything I felt for him?

I shut my eyes tight and willed the thoughts away. No, Drun would come back and we would be…friends.

I sat, stunned in my room. I looked around and groaned at the disaster I had lived in for the last week while Drun had been gone. The sheets, sweaty and crumpled on the floor, next to a pile of unwashed clothes. A pile of plates that needed to be returned to the tavern downstairs was sitting at the small table in the corner.

I sighed. There was nothing I could do about Drun right now. I uttered a small prayer to Alunis - the Sun God - that Drun would return to me safely and I got to my feet and set about getting my life back in order. I would wait for him, my Drun, to return to me. I had not planned to stay here as long as I had, but I would be careful. I promised not to do anything stupid while I waited.

I gathered the sheets and the clothes and with a few extra coins and a smile, I gave them to the innkeeper’s wife to wash. Her services were thorough and as she took my linens in a basket to a counter behind her, she looked me up and down and told me I was too thin and in need of a good bath. She shoved a plateful of food into my hands and sat me down. I felt her eyes watching me, making sure I took every bite before she lifted me by the collar and pushed me out the door with a token to the bathhouse to get myself cleaned up.

I wandered the streets, still dazed. I wasn’t used to feeling so normal yet. For the past almost three weeks I had been in a state of feverish tension, and my muscles still felt the soreness of being caught in that state of tension for so long.

The bathhouse was quiet during the middle of the day and there were only a few other patrons there. I had never experienced a public bathhouse before. Having the father I did meant that I lived in constant privilege which included private baths. The man at the entrance took my token and guided me to a room to leave my clothes, before stepping out into a large room with a pool of hot, steaming water. I glanced around nervously, catching nobody’s gaze as I stepped into the steam-filled room naked and shivering. It was commonplace for these folk for everyone here to be nude, but I found myself unaccustomed to it and unsure where to keep my eyes.

Once in the water though, I felt my body relax and I breathed deeply, letting the steam fill my lungs with that wet, humid air. This was heavenly. I sighed and sunk my head into the water. My hair had been neglected these past few days and I apologized profusely in my head to the old woman who used to care for it for me.

I kept my eyes closed and I let the warm water wash away the sweat and the history of the last few days from my body. I reveled in being myself again, as much as it caused me angst to know what that would mean next. I stayed until my fingers and toes were wrinkled and I stepped out, dripping and wet and padded back into the room where my clothes sat. I reached for a clean towel from a pile and tousled my hair dry and padded myself off. My clothes were still not clean - but I suffered the experience of putting them back on with a promise that I would wear clean clothes as soon as I got back to my room.

I turned to step out of the bathhouse when I bumped into a large, sturdy chest. I yelped and stepped back, blinking in alarm.

I saw the red phoenix insignia on his chest before I saw his face and I felt my body go cold.

No, I thought, my mind racing, they found me, they found me, they’re going to take me away from Drun.

I shook my head, panic already settling into my bones.

“Altan Hilmar, son of Archduke Taliesin Hilmar?” The man asked. His voice was low, unfeeling and commanding. He looked to be in his fifties, with a full beard and brown eyes that looked down at me as if I were nothing more than a petulant child.

I shook my head again.

He didn’t react to my reluctance to answer, instead he continued, “You are to return to Berdusk where your father will enact the proper consequences for running away.”

“Please.” I breathed, “I can’t go back to him. I won’t go.”

“My orders are clear, young Hilmar, you will come with me to Berdusk.”

“Have you no mercy?” I pleaded. “I will not cause my father any dishonor, but please don’t make me leave. I have to stay here.”

“I am a patient man, Hilmar.” The man continued. “But I also will not tolerate bargaining. I only obey one master, and that is the honourable Duke Hilmar. Now, after you.” He gestured to the door, I looked out and saw that there were two other armoured men with the same insignia on their chests waiting for me.

I couldn’t bow my head in defeat, I couldn’t cry. Not in front of these men. They all watched me closely, carefully. I’m sure they all saw me as some spoiled, rich son of the duke who ran away to be reckless and ungrateful. They probably saw me as weak and useless without any notable skill, but I would not let them see me shrink under their stares. My mother told me my strength was different. I raised my chin high and regarded the man before me. “I will need my belongings.” I said.

“They have already been collected from the inn you were staying at.” The man answered. “Now, move along. We’re taking you home.”

There were too many thoughts in my head as I walked between the line of guards that led me through the walking streets until we arrived upon the stable where a carriage was waiting. I looked down one road, knowing that it led to Drun’s forge. I felt a stutter in my heart as I realized that Drun would return to find me gone.

It was then I could no longer hold my head up strong. I had no way to tell him where I was going. That I wanted to stay. That I was so fond of him, and I admired him and was so grateful that he trusted me and that we were each other’s first friend.

I wish I could have told him that I was falling in love with him.

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roohuh · 1 year

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A Kind Old House Elf

Part 25 of year seven in Obliviate

Ominis X MC

Summary: the Gaunt’s house elf watches MC from a distance

Warnings: none

No one had called the Gaunt’s house elf's by name in so long he almost did not remember what it was. The last person to call him by his name and not an insult of some sort was the kind little blind child of his mistress, but the elf had not seen the boy since he went away to Hogwarts seven years ago. That was until he showed up with his mother one day. It made the old elf sad to see how cruel she was to him. The old elf wished he was strong enough to stand up to his family, to tell them to leave the poor boy alone. The boy was no longer little, he had grown quite tall but still seemed to think he was small by the way he cowered to his mother, that is until she showed up. The girl had fiery defiant eyes that challenged the mother and their oldest son but turned soft when they were fixed on the blind one. When the boy heard her voice he seemed to grow ten feet in his mind, enough to stand up to his cruel family. The elf was elated when the boy and his friends made their escape. Cleaning with extra vigor that evening the elf could not stop smiling at the thought that the sweet boy who had such a rough start to life was living well somewhere with kind friends who cared so much about him. The elf had been up before the sun humming to himself as he did his chores thinking about the free and happy life they were living somewhere. His happiness died instantly when he saw the girl. She had fallen right for the eldest Gaunt boys trap, now she is confined in his cruel prison. It pained the elf to see such a beautiful free spirit imprisoned like she was, he marveled at the defiant fire that never left her eyes. He watched in fascination as worked out her frustrations on the landscape turning a drab and dismal cell into a pretty little garden. When no one was looking, the kind elf would use his magic to make flowers spring up for her, taking a quiet satisfaction in the joy it brought the girl. He was amazed by her kindness, even befriending a little mouse. The elf loved to sit and listen to her tell stories about the youngest Gaunt, always keeping himself concealed but hanging off every word as she recounted many of her adventures she shared with the boy to the small rodent. The evening the eldest Gaunt revealed his plan to convince the world the girl was dead the old elf felt so sorry watching her bitter tears, he was so sure her spirit would break. In the morning he did his chores as quickly as he could before rushing to the courtyard to check on the girl. He was amazed to see her standing defiantly as ever practicing wandless magic. He was baffled by her determination over the next two months as her magical power grew, becoming more and more adept at this difficult form of magic. However, the elf also noticed her resilience against the master's advances growing weaker by the day. The girl was so lonely she started to fall for the man’s tricks, conversing with him more, letting him even go as far as kissing her softly on the occasion. The fire was still there but the flame was dying and it was agony for the elf to watch. He knew it was not long before she accepted the outstretched hand. Every day she told the mouse less stories about the Gaunt boy, she was starting to stop speaking all together spending most of her time honing her magic growing stronger but sadder. The elf knew he would pay dearly for it but he had to help this girl, he could not stand by and watch such a flame be extinguished by his master's cruelty. After dark one night he carefully crept into the courtyard and waking the girl gently.

Waking with a start you turn to see the mute house elf who brings you your meals.

“What is it?” You ask puzzled, never having seen the elf other than his brief appearances with your food. He holds a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay quiet as he hands you a quill, parchment, and ink. Eyes growing wide you take the gift skeptical of if this is a trap or not. He makes a motion of writing something then covers his eyes.

“You want me to write?” You ask in a shocked toned. He nods, covering his eyes.

“Ominis?” You breathe. Vigorously nodding he motions you to write. Tears prick at your eyes; over the past few months you had started to lose any hope of escape. You had started to accept your survitute to Gaunt not even daring to hope for escape anymore, but now you find help in the most unexpected of places.

My dearest Ominis,

I am alive. But trapped in your family's courtyard or so I think. Please be alright. I can not express how much I miss you. Please come for me but be careful and bring help. I love you MC.

#ominis gaunt #fanfic #hogwarts legacy #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #harry potter hogwarts game #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x you #ominis fluff

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youareunbearable · 2 years

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I've been rereading Here Be Dragons by thorinoakentwig and I've been daydreaming of the concept of Maedhros (after his death and being sent to the void) begging for redemption, if not for himself then at least for his brothers and father for failing to complete the oath. Eru listens to him and grants him his wish, allowing his family to rest in Mando’s halls instead of the void. Feanor is furious, not for being upstaged or whatever, but at the idea of his son suffering for him, more than he already has

(Fingon got to see a glimpse of red hair that burned like molten lava in the Halls before Maedhros was taken again. He closed his eyes for just a moment to feel and settle his grief before moving into action once again)

As per their agreement, Maedhros must save a life for every one he and his kin have ruined, however, he is not sent back as an Elf, but instead is reborn again and again in the form of Men and Dwarves and Hobbits with their mortal lifespans and limitations. He struggles with each rebirth to remember the last one, for mortal memories are so flawed compared to those of the Elves, but he gets the sensation of deja vu often and has strange dreams, and knows he has a Purpose.

But no matter the life he lives, he always has brilliant red hair, his eyes are always light in colour if not grey, he is always tall for his race, and at some point in his life he will loose a hand. Its not always in response to the Enemy- one lifetime he was whittling a toy horse and cut his palm, which became so infected that it had to be amputated.

He goes around helping people, as a doctor, a smith, a teacher, but more often than not he feels at home with a blade in his hand and the burden of responsibility for a people on his shoulders. He has led armies, villages, bands of mercenaries, counciled lords and ladies, and on one occasion commanded a ship full of Men. He never knows why he has such a drive to help people, why helping makes him feel so guilty, why he has nightmares of dark shadows and pain and three brilliant lights, why the chill of winter makes him feel safe, why he's always wanted a large family yet never once in all his reincarnation has had any desire to marry.

That is, until one day when he is reborn as a Man by the name of Doegred, he is take to the sea side by his parents as a gift for his 6th birthday. He looks west and is filled with such a profound longing that when asked whats wrong, he points towards the setting sun and says "i used to live there. I miss my home." As the sun sets, and as his parents digest the strange statement of their son, a voice comes floating by on the wind.

Its melodic, but melancholic in such a profound way that it moves all those that hear it to tears. Young Doegred tears away from his parents and races down the sand towards the vpice, red hair snapping behind him like licks of flame. Once his parents catch up to him, they are met with a strange scene.

An Elf, for no other being is as tall or looks as beautiful even in such a neglected state, is knelt on the shore, weeping and clutching their son to him as if he is afraid he'll vanish if he lets go. Doegred, for all that is worth, is making calming soothing croons while patting the matted hair of the Elf. He looks up at his parents, and with a glint in his blue eyes that almost makes them look grey, says "this is my younger brother. I left him behind once and I dont plan on doing so again."

(When they go home, it is with a much cleaner elf named Maglor in tow and much confused acceptance as two exasperated parents of a strange child can bare.)

Maglor stays in their village for a time, helping Doegred help others, until the Man becomes 18 and is leaving home for an adventure. He takes Maglor with him to the Elven city of Eregion, where they meet with the Elven lord there and much tears are shed. Doegred slowly begins to remember his past lives, reliving moments in dreams and second hand from tales told by Maglor and Celebrimbor. They in turn start to learn the full details of his agreement with Eru, of the burden he placed on his shoulders for his kin.

He helps his former nephew with the more political side of running his city, and tries his best to ignore the reverent whispering of the Feanorian Elves. Celebrimbor, not wanting to the news of his guests to spread, shuts his city's gates to outsiders and turns away a slightly peeved Maia in the process.

Doegred ages, as all Men do and it isn't long by Elven standards that he is once again on his deathbed and soon ready to start life once again, to have another turn at penance for he and his family- even if he still does not fully remember them. When Doegred closes his eyes for the last time a city wails at loss, and scouting parties are sent out in search of a red haired babe.

A red dawn breaks with a hobbit babe opening grey eyes for the first time. Black smog forms from the mountains in the southeast. War is the horizon. And a boat sailing from the west comes with two passengers bearing ill tidings and offering support against the growing Evil.

One has hair of spun golden silk, the other with braids of thick ebony ropes. One carries a sword and a flag with a golden flower. The other has only a harp and a bow.

Within the safety of Gladden Fields, the new Hobbit mother adorns her baby's swaddle with a golden ribbon. It seems like it will bring good luck

#maedhros #maglor #Silmarillion #lotr #silm fic #amber rambles #getting this out before it haunts me more lmao #technically Maedhros penance is done by the end of the second age and throughout the 3rd some of his siblings can leave the halls #but Mae is still Guilty and just keeps being reborn #i also think it would be fun if mae is reborn as gimlis older brother #legolas asking gimli to marry him just fucking SWEATING cause the reincarnated Kinslayer is staring him down from waist height #with the OTHER Kinslayer adding a supporting glare behind him with Celebrimbor teasing Thranduil off to the side #elrond is just happy to have some family members back #gloin has come to terms with the fact that elves are just gonna be around his kids #feanor is SEETHING in the halls about having to share Dad status with a bunch of otber ppl #What If He Has A Dad Ranking List And Im Not In The Top 10????#Nerdanel is aldo upset about having to share mom status but also appreciates the help lmao

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glorf1ndel · 10 months

Note

Ecthelion + sunlight?

Thank you for the prompt! I listened to Hozier's "Sunlight" while writing this fic. Hope you enjoy. <3

Sunlight (~800 words, Glorthelion)

How Ecthelion became fond of sunlight. Or, a love story.

On Ao3 and below!

Ecthelion, Lord of the House of the Fountain, cannot say he has ever been fond of sunlight. As a child, he loved the rain, for it was an excuse to stay inside and read his favorite books. He also has sensitive eyes, so whenever the sun’s rays hit the white marble of Gondolin, he recoils at the harsh glare and wishes this city had been constructed out of darker stone. What is more, sunlight lays everything bare: the beauty of Gondolin, surely, but also its ugliness. Its poverty and power discrepancies. The fear in King Turgon’s eyes at the smallest mention of Morgoth. And the uncertain look on Ecthelion’s face every time he sees Glorfindel.

Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, was made for sunlight. He is a tall, chiseled elf with a cascade of sunflower-yellow hair and a cheerful smile. Glorfindel and Ecthelion are both soldiers, but therein lies the extent of their similarities. Ecthelion has straight, black hair to Glorfindel’s curly blond. While Ecthelion is known for having a beautiful voice, Glorfindel cannot carry a tune. Where Ecthelion is taciturn, Glorfindel could talk a person’s ear off. Yet not with nonsense – no, Glorfindel is well-spoken, and intelligent, and enthusiastic about everything from swordsmanship to Gondolin’s architecture. Ecthelion is, lamentably, in love with him.

Why “lamentably?” Because there is no chance that Glorfindel feels the same way. They are friendly, but not friends. Besides, Glorfindel has more than a reasonable number of impressive suitors, so even if Ecthelion were among them, there is no reason why the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower should pick him.

Which is why Ecthelion can’t believe it when one day, Glorfindel comes up to him as he stands watch at the Gate of Steel, offers him a bouquet of roses, and asks,

“May I court you?”

Ecthelion’s mind is racing. Yes, of course, Valar, yes, he wants to say, but instead, the first word that comes out of his mouth is,

“Why?”

Glorfindel’s eyes widen, and he bursts out laughing.

“Why? Because I find you kind, and intelligent, and unbearably fair.”

“No, that’s you,” Ecthelion says, like an idiot.

Glorfindel beams at this. Carefully, he holds out the flowers again.

“What do you think?”

There is a hopeful, almost tender look in his eyes; Ecthelion cannot help but smile.

“I think… Yes, you may court me,” he agrees, and the expression on Glorfindel’s face is blinding.

Sunlight, Ecthelion thinks.

****

As it turns out, their courtship is short. Not because anyone is rushing them, but because they fall so deeply in love that they do not see the point in waiting. At first, the other Lords laugh to see Ecthelion and Glorfindel infatuated with each other, but soon enough, they view the couple with fondness, for they can see the affection between them, and it is true. As tradition goes in Gondolin, the courted party asks the courter to marry them, and so it falls to Ecthelion to pose the question.

In a familiar gesture, he offers Glorfindel a bouquet of roses one day. They are in their chambers, after work, for it is raining outside. Besides, Ecthelion wants this moment to be just between the two of them.

“Thank you, my love.” Glorfindel buries his face in the flowers for a moment, looking content. “They’re beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

Ecthelion can feel his heart climb into his chest as he drops to one knee and takes a ring out of his pocket.

“Oh,” Glorfindel breathes. “Is it time?”

“If we wish it. I would say that we have all the time in the world, but I find I cannot bear to spend another moment without being wed to you. Glorfindel, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” he gasps, and sweeps Ecthelion into his arms. His embrace is warm, as always, but this is the first time Ecthelion has thought of it: like sunlight.

They marry a year before Gondolin falls.

****

When the end comes, Ecthelion is one of the first to witness it. He climbs up to the ramparts of Gondolin to see Morgoth’s army approach. It is, without a doubt, monstrous. The screeches of dragons, the roars of balrogs, and the heavy footsteps of orcs resound in Ecthelion’s ears, even though they are miles away. Yet that is not all. Trailing after this army of dread is a dense thundercloud, and the last thing Ecthelion wishes is for this battle to happen in the pouring rain.

Suddenly, below him, the gates of Gondolin open, if only for a moment. He gazes down, and whom does he see in the crowd of soldiers but his husband? Glorfindel is dressed for war, in his full battle armor and with his hair neatly braided. He surveys the landscape before him, including the advancing army, and begins to shout orders to a nearby captain. Ecthelion’s heart swells at the sight of him; at the same time, he shivers in fear. How will this war end for Gondolin? For Glorfindel? For him?

At that moment, Glorfindel looks up and catches sight of Ecthelion on the ramparts. Ecthelion waves, for what can he do? He sees the answering smile on Glorfindel’s face, brighter than anything he’s ever known, and he chants it like a prayer:

Sunlight, sunlight, sunlight.

----

Thank you for reading. <3 If you'd like, leave a comment and kudos on Ao3, or like and reblog this post!

#silm #silmarillion #ecthelion #glorfindel #glorthelion #fall of gondolin #starspray #tolkien #tolkien fic

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forbidden-forest-witch · 1 year

Text

Destiné à Être: A Remus Lupin Story

Chapter 13: First Date

(Warnings:Smoking, drinking, language, sexual themes. 18+ only)

Word Count: 4.4k

...

"It was instinctive, the way I fell for you. Like an effortless intake of breath" -Josh Walker

My beautiful Cess, I miss you everyday, but now I need you. I'm going on my first date since my final year of school. Yes, Hell is probably frozen. His name is Remus. You'd love him. He's a little older, tall, shy and handsome, and he's a werewolf. I know- not that shocking. I wish you could help me pick out an outfit. I miss you. Love, Britt ...

The days surrounding the full moon comprise of Brigitte entertaining herself so she doesn't go stir crazy with worry over Remus. She had received a letter from Dumbledore, hoping for a speedy recovery and urging her to rest until her leg completely heals, leaving her little to do.

"Sirius!", Brigitte hisses up the stairs. While her leg is almost good as new, she'd rather not climb the fourth set of stairs or invade the wizard’s privacy. He has been sleeping most of the day, so he can ignore the fact that he cannot assist Remus during the full moon.

"Filthy Mudblood yells in my Mistresses house. Mistress would be devastated to hear the voice of such vermin", Kreacher croaks as he emerges from the bedroom opposite of Sirius'.

“Evening, Kreacher ... I'm a half-blood by the way. Werewolf father is Muggleborn". The wrinkly elf looks at Brigitte in horror before running down the stairs away from her.

"I think he likes you", Sirius yawns, leaning on his doorway. He slips a band shirt over his tattooed torso. "What you want, Love? Meeting starting already?".

"No, but that's why I'm here. You don't need to stay in your room until tonight's meeting. I'm not Remus, but I can be good company", she tries to entice him.

"Mhmm. Moony seems to really like your company", Sirius wiggles his brows. "Come. You can help me feed Buckbeak".

"I'll watch you feed Buckbeak".

"Ugh, such a girl. It's just dead rats".

"That's right, and don't make me show you what this girl can do". Brigitte snaps her finger, making a little firework-like spark in front of Sirius' face.

That shuts him up. While he feeds Beaky, Brigitte sits on the floor and scribbles through her notes on the anti-werewolf legislation. Since she's little to no help for Sirius, she can dedicate her energy to this instead.

"So, ya gonna help Moony?".

"Remus, and all werewolves in this country. I will try, at least. Your Ministry is something else", Brigitte shudders at the idea of facing the harsh Wizengamot-- the magical High Court.

"If there's anyone who can do it, it's you! I've heard your credentials. Remus might have doted on you a few times", Sirius giggles. "He's fucking smitten".

"I will do everything I can. There's so much progress to be made, to help families and the whole magical community. We've got to stop vilifying people with the disease", Brigitte stresses.

"Wow, you sure can make a case. I pity anyone who tries to go against you. It almost makes me believe I wont die in this house, that even this lowly wizard has a chance".

"I'll never let you die here. It's all just a matter of time. I have a good feeling about your outcome", Brigitte grins. "But, why don't you bring this up with the others? I know Snape isn't too eager to help, but he see's Pettigrew for Christ's sake! I don't understand".

"There's more 'pressing matters'. Focusing on my shit will take away from something more important. All I need is for Harry to stay safe", Sirius says.

"But if you're acquitted you can do so much for the Order. Just imagine going to Hogwarts and visiting Harry ... picking him up at Kings Cross when the school year is over and traveling with him. You can get a new flat and even a job", Brigitte argues.

"We can go on vacations, do whatever we want". Sirius looks off distantly with a small smile ghosting his lips. His pupils slowly dilate as he thinks of the potential memories he has with his godson. "Goddamn. You won this time, Miss Lawyer".

"Perfect timing. I think I just heard the door", Brigitte says with a cocky smile. She pets Buckbeak and exits the room skipping.

In the kitchen are Moody, Tonks, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and a sour faced Snape. Mrs Weasley is making herself busy around the kitchen, prepping tea and cleaning, too anxious to stay still.

"Thanks for joining us. Least some of us aren't too busy tonight", Moody grumbles. Brigitte and Sirius timidly take a seat, Arthur and Tonks divulge more about Malfoy sightings at work and tighter restrictions. Restrictions that limit their investigations.

"All visits to Azkaban have been put on hold", Tonks scoffs. "Clearly the dementors that attacked Harry are still missing".

"Is he safe at school?", Sirius asks worriedly.

"In a secure school with Dumbledore? I'd say so, Black", Snape snarks.

"Hey! Shut it, you little--"

"-And we got Mundungus stationed in Hogsmeade", Moody interjects. "Bloody idiot can get as drunk as he wants as long as he looks out for 'em".

"We're trusting Mundungus again?", Brigitte gasps.

"He's the last one to raise suspicions if he's seen there", Snape says impatiently. "Unless you volunteer to move to Hogsmeade?".

"Don't talk to her like that, Snivellus", Sirius sneers.

"Dung saw the kids go into that pub Hog's Head. Small bunch of 'em. Said they were talking about a club. He heard the name 'Dumbledore's Army'", Moody shares, ignoring the men's hostilities.

"Oh no, no, no", Molly whimpers.

"It's alright, dear. Umbridge has banned all group activities, its probably harmless", Arthur tries to sssure her.

"Still. Hog's Head?", Sirius winces. "We'll ask them about it at Christmas".

"We will. Arthur? Your news".

"All raids have to be logged beforehand. So there goes our chance of catching anyone off guard", Arthur says exhaustedly. Brigitte glances at Sirius, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"So ... how will we ever get Pettigrew?", she asks timidly. "Why aren't we taking him to the Ministry? It's not like we don't have someone in his close proximity". She looks at Snape expectedly.

"There's a reason you're not in charge here–"

"Snape! I'm warning you", Sirius growls.

Arthur sighs heavily and place his hands on the table. "I wish we could dear but our hands are tied. We can't approach Malfoy via the Ministry, and Snape has to remain inconspicuous. It's not realistic".

"But isn't that why we're here? To take risks others won't?", Brigitte asks.

"I'm not worth the risk, Love. You've done all you can", Sirius assures her. "I can practically feel the guilt radiating off you. You've done more than anyone else, and one day our testimonies will matter".

"But-"

"Nope", Sirius raises his hand. "Put your energy into the anti-werewolf laws. You're needed more now that Podmore is gone too".

"Exactly", Moody cuts in, "and you need to work on your magic. Your elemental and wandless abilities are impressive, but you need to work on making it a defense".

"Yes sir".

"I'll help!", Tonks offers.

"So will I", Moody eyes her firmly. "Wait another week before you try dueling with that leg, but I'll be in contact ... anything else?".

"I will be forwarding any voiced concerns to Dumbledore from here on out", Snape drawls unenthusiastically. "He does not find it wise to vacate the school now that Umbridge is enforcing new rules everyday".

"Oh bloody perfect", Sirius rolls his eyes.

"Black, enough... Alright, if nothing else. Let's move— CONSTANT VIGLANCE", Moody ends the meeting.

Snape rushes out the room to return to school, followed by the rest of the crew. Tonks waves goodbye, promising to stay for a visit when she has a night off. She wants to support her cousin; at this moment, she's the only family he has.

"I left my room early, can I go back now? I promise I won't drown in my whiskey and tears", Sirius says with his hand over his heart.

"What a Drama Queen", Brigitte rolls her eyes on the way to the pantry. She takes a few miscellaneous pieces of fruit and pastries. "Dinner", she chuckles. Sirius walks Brigitte to her bedroom door before retreating to his private quarters on the top floor.

"Think Moony would be jealous right now?", Sirius teases. Brigitte laughs, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "He's fine. Don't let the cute sweaters fool you. Moony's a tough bloke. The full moon was last night, the man will be as good as new tomorrow!".

"You're right... Bonne Nuit, Sirius", she says, kissing his cheek.

"Night, Madame".

Brigitte tosses the rich treats onto her bed and leaves her jumper and jeans where they fall on the floor. She slips on an oversized t-shirt and climbs under the covers; and she stays up late into the night drawing with her cheap pencils and munching on chewy French bread.

─── . ˚*☆ ☾ ☆*˚ . ───

Her drawing high continues on the next day. It's a pleasant hiatus from worrying about failing Sirius, wondering where Remus is, and whether she's pulling her weight in the Order.

Brigitte draws and shades charcoal for hours, long after her wrist is sore. She stands in front of a mirror and easel, using her reflection as a reference for drawing a woman's portrait.

"Afternoon! Whatcha doing in here, poppet?... what is that?", Sirius asks as, looking over her shoulder. It's nearly five and he's just now making his debut. It's a battle Brigitte wasn't going to fight today.

"It's Medusa and Perseus. Except unlike the famous statue, Medusa is holding that bastard's head".

"You mean... the monster woman with snake hair?", he asks hesitantly. "I think I remember that from Muggle Studies".

She huffs at him indignantly, "NOT a monster. She was turned into a Gorgon after being attacked by Poseidon. Her story is totally misunderstood. I'm giving her the ending she deserves".

Sirius looks up and down at the charcoal-covered young woman. "You're a unique girl, Britt... Y'know, I'm really happy you're here and won the heart of my hard-headed friend. I haven't seen him this happy in ... maybe since we became Animagi, not to brag".

"Well that's some sentimental shit, huh Black?".

He waves his hand at her and turns away from her. "Ahh shut it, can't I be happy for my friends? I want you two to be happy... together or whatever. Just don't go gossiping about my soft side".

"As if anyone would believe me if I told them... now, pose in front of the mantle, you cocky bastard. I need a new model", Brigitte directs him as she tears the Medusa drawing from the sketch pad and let's it flutter to the floor. Sirius smooths his tie and struts over to the fireplace. He places one arm on the mantelpiece and the other hand rests in his pocket.

"So regal, obviously from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black", Brigitte drawls, mocking his stance.

"What an honor for a penniless artist, eh?".

Brigitte gasps, giving him a warning glare before turning her focus to the paper. She scales his figure and draws fine, loose lines to outline his poised limbs. Sirius subtly bops his head to Pink Floyd playing in the background as Brigitte goes between staring at the sketchbook and studying the shadows on his face.

"Lovey, if you keep touching your face there's not going to be a hint of bare skin. Lookin' like your own shadow with all that smudged charcoal", Sirius mumbles to make minimal movement. Brigitte sticks out her tongue at him, and a minute she later rubs her face again while working on the details of his hair.

"Well, well. I feel like I'm walking in on Basil painting his muse Dorian". Remus jests, making a solid Dorian Gray reference. He walks into the room with his hands in his pockets and hair hanging over his eyes. Sirius winks at him, not moving his body.

"You're back!", Brigitte exclaims as she drops the charcoal on the floor and skips over to him.

"Oh no! The charcoal!", she exclaims while pulling away. "Oh Remus, your shirt. I'm so sorry! I used it because my pencils suck!", she tries to wipe the charcoal away with her blackened fingers but it only makes it worse.

Remus laughs at her expression and the failed attempt, gently grabbing her shoulders to stop her, "It's fine, Darling. You actually look quite adorable like this-"

"Alright, no enough. I was for this in the beginning, but I'm standing here because I'm terrified of moving", Sirius whines. "Don't ignore me and make me watch this weird foreplay".

Brigitte's face burns bright red under the dusty foundation, and Remus awkwardly clears his throat. He turns to Sirius with a hardened expression.

"Hello, Padfoot".

"Actually Sirius, you can move, I'll finish it later. I should shower... looks like I've been playing in the chimney", Brigitte says looking down at the hand prints all over her body. Her poor sweater and light-washed jeans. She looks at Remus and leans in to whisper, "That is ... if you still want to go out tonigh-"

"Yes... I mean yes, I do. You haven't changed your mind?".

"Hell no. I need a break from that one", she giggles, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at Sirius, who's busy admiring his portrait and smoking a cigarette. Remus watches Brigitte shake her hips up the stairs, then approaches his smug friend.

"Damn. She makes me look pretty good, huh? Not that it's a challenge", Sirius shows off his perfect smile as he whips the hair out of his face.

Remus rolls his eyes, "Yeah, too bad she didn't convey just how humble you are", he sighs.

Sirius bats his eyelashes and walks to the dry bar next to the dusty piano, "Want a drink before your big date tonight?".

"Stop. It's not a big deal, mate", Remus says hastily. "And no, heh, I should go change my shirt", he says, regarding Brigitte's handprints smeared on his torso.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

With a clean shirt and brushed hair, Remus waits for Brigitte, taking Sirius up on his drink offer and watching him devour a plate of beans on toast. It's a disgusting yet successful distraction.

"She was a bit restless while you were away. Kinda annoying, made me come out of my room and hang out with her. I guess I can admit it was sweet too", Sirius says between bites.

"She's very sweet", Remus responds, looking fondly into the distance.

"So- You excited for tonight?", Sirius wiggles his eyebrows suggestively in between bites.

"I am ...", Remus responds, looking into his brown drink and trying not to engage too much. Talking about it only makes him more nervous.

"So, what are you doing on this date, huh?", Sirius inquires.

"Something I think she's going to really enjoy", Remus says coyly, not able to contain his grin.

"Fine don't tell me, bu-", Sirius looks past Remus and stops mid-sentence, his jaw dropping. Remus turns around and mimics his friend's expression.

Brigitte's standing in the archway. Her hair is a sexy wavy mess and the light illuminates it like a halo. Her figure is accentuated in a calf-length black sweater dress with a slit up the side. Simple yet seductive.

"Ready to go?", Brigitte asks quietly after a prolonged silence.

Remus quickly stands and strides over to her, "I am... Merlin Britt, you're gorgeous".

She blushes and traces her finger up his tie, "Merci. You look very handsome, Remus". He's wearing his typical gray suit, but she can tell he straighten up his tie and attempted to brush down his hair. They look like a beautiful couple.

"Isn't this adorable! I look pretty nice this evening too, just throwing that out there", Sirius chimes in. Remus and Brigitte laugh, not taking their eyes off each other. He offers his scarred hand and she happily takes it. Hers— soft and delicate while contrasting beautifully with his— strong and calloused from years of a less than privileged life.

"So, where are we going?", Brigitte asks as they step out the door. Remus clicks his tongue and helps her put on her coat.

"Now, now. If I told you, it'd ruin the surprise. Ready?". He Apparates them to the middle of the Victoria and Albert Museum, under its intricate dome.

Brigitte looks around at the surroundings. The main lighting is shut off, surrounding them in a romantic ambiance. It's surreal, being in such a popular place usually filled with people, but now all Brigitte can hear is her heartbeat in her ears. It's all theirs.

Remus watches her contently. He intertwines their fingers and whispers in her ear, "I thought we could look at some art tonight? We have our own private tour".

Brigitte looks at him with gleaming eyes, "Oh, Remus! That's all I want to do!", she hugs his neck tightly.

"That makes me happy to hear, Darling. What would you like to see first?".

"Classical sculptures?", she asks, dragging Remus down the wide hallway before he can respond. She glances over the large map in the middle of the museum and takes them to her desired art period. It's a room as long as the entirety of the museum and littered in shiny, marbled and bronze bodies.

"I think they're so romantic ... it's incredible, how something so firm can appear so soft. How is that stone and not a real veil?", Brigitte rambles on dreamily, staring at the woman wearing a flower down and veil. "I want to reach out and touch the fabric, but I will resist!".

Remus snorts at the pure happiness streaming from her. He lets Brigitte lead him around the room, occasionally sharing what he knows about each mythological piece. She listens on impressed, flattered that he's showing interest in the art she likes.

"I like the stories of love, and adventures to exotic new places with beautiful people and creatures. We have enough war in real life", she laments while looking up at a carving of Hector.

They take turns posing comically next to the sculptures, mirroring the stances of gods and making funny faces at each other that resemble the clay theater masks. Their laughs echo through the room long after they've stopped and are silently smiling at each other so hard their cheeks hurt.

They spend a few hours wandering throughout the museum, trying to see of it as much as possible. Brigitte pulls Remus along, back and forth through the wings, not letting go of his hand once. She excitedly points paintings she's familiar with, from years of flipping through the art books sold in her father's shop.

It's evident she's read art history books from her fathers bookshop, as she is knowledgeable with every other piece. Though, Remus never tires of her 'oohs' and 'ahhs'.

Her giggle and honey-like voice bounce off the frame-clattered walls, and it's like a symphony to his ears. Remus gazes down at her, his heart radiating and a smile stuck to his face as he watches her in elation... He doesn't even realize that he's ignored half the art, too busy admiring her beauty instead.

They end up in the main rotunda under the glass chandelier twinkling under the low light. Brigitte turns to face Remus and wraps her arms around his torso. "I really enjoyed this, but it sure did put my art to shame", she jokes.

"I don't think so ... your beauty put the art to shame if anything", he says boldly.

She gapes at him speechlessly, unsure of how to respond except with a kiss. "Thanks for bringing me here", she says while looking at him doe-eyed, their noses almost touching.

"Anytime. Anywhere you want to go. I thought dinner was too ordinary. Are you hungry though?".

Brigitte stands on her tip toes and kisses Remus' cheeks, "I have a craving, so you'll have to follow me this time".

Their feet leave the ground and after being sucked through time and space, they land in Battersea Park. "Hmm... If I remembered correctly I've seen a cart that should be around here- yes, there he is!", Brigitte points at a food trolley by the river. It's a vintage crepe cart she's seen on one of her partrols. She takes a confused Remus' hand and drags him over.

"Bonsoir, monsieur. J'espère que vous allez bien", Brigitte exclaims, greeting the old crepe maker.

The old man's face lights up, "Ahh Chérie, c'est si bon de te voir. Deux crepes?". Brigitte brightly smiles and the old Frenchman pours the batter onto the skillet and makes the crepes. He even drizzles extra chocolate on top.

Remus tries to pay the man but he waves his hands, "non, non. c'est gratuit pour les amoureux". Brigitte blushes and thanks the man.

Remus asks her what he said. "Oh nothing. Just that it's for free. He insists", she leaves out the part where he called them 'lovers'. They sit cozied up on a bench at the edge of the river.

"These were a really good choice", Remus says as they indulge in the French treat. He somehow manages to eat neatly, not a streak of chocolate on his face; while Brigitte makes a mess all around her mouth. Remus watches her and laughs, wiping away the chocolate and licking it off his finger.

"Chocolate is never the wrong answer when it comes to you, Moony", she muses, "They're my favorite ... Make me think of home. I'd get them every time we'd go into a city", she says distantly.

Remus looks down at her gazing across the river, "you miss France, don't you?".

"I never thought I'd be away this long. I haven't seen my parents in person in almost two years. My brother's wife is pregnant again, I feel like so much has changed since I was there last ... but, I think I have a purpose here".

"I must agree", Remus smiles at her with curt nod. "And holiday is less than a month, right? You'll be home soon", he assures her. They finish the crepes and watch the illuminated skyline reflect on the river, the moon boldly hanging above as it begins to wane.

"You know what I want to see?", he whispers. Brigitte hums a curious 'hmm?'.

"I want to see you make a really big wave in that water... I want to see your magic", he says to which Brigitte jerks her neck to face him.

"Wh-what?", she asks timidly.

He smiles at her encouragingly, "I want to see how powerful your magic is. You shouldn't hide it, Darling". She looks away embarrassed.

"Wait, I'm sorry I didn't mean to put you on the spot. You don't have to do it...", he says rubbing her knee comfortingly.

She shakes her head and sits up confidently, "no, no it's fine. For you, I'm happy to try", Brigitte smiles shyly. It's not like she's helpless– if she can preform her magic for Dumbledore and Moody, Remus should be a piece of cake.

Brigitte stands up and focuses on the river. She raises both hands which lifts up a large wall of wiggling water. Her hands glide forward and the water forcefully gushes about 50 feet across the riverbank, creating choppy waves that churn up the water like a storm. Then she turns around and makes snow whip around them like a elegant tornado.

Remus looks at her with an open, amazed smile, "It's incredible. Why don't you want people to see this?".

Brigitte shrugs smugly and sits back down next to him, "I practiced with Beau when I was little, but when I got to school I was already the weird girl with the werewolf family. I didn't need kids thinking I would spontaneously light them on fire or freeze them in a block of ice", she nervously laughs, "I am recently starting to feel a little more confident with it", she confesses. Remus' reaction when they were walking home the night they first kissed is what gave her that boost.

"Hmm, perhaps 'weird' in the most powerful and magical way? You should embrace your unique talent! The Order needs someone like you. You're an underestimated and powerful witch, Darling. You said before you like to use that to your advantage, right?", he encourages her. They smile at one another.

"Thanks, Remus", she says and involuntarily shivers. He puts his arm around her shoulder and rubs up and down both arms,

"You are you cold? You want my jacket?".

Remus goes to take it off but Brigitte stops him, "No, please then you'll be cold. I'm fine".

He ignores her, draping the jacket on her shoulders. It's warm from his werewolf body heat. He wraps his arm around her. They gaze into each other's eyes, admiring the reflection of the moonlight in their contrasting irises, before quickly turning away.

"I've really enjoyed tonight, Remus. Getting to be with you...", Brigitte whispers, lightly tracing the buttons on his shirt.

"Darling, you have no idea", he drags out the last two words. Looking at each others lips, they breathe uneasily, their faces drawing closer and closer.

Remus pulls Brigitte in and kisses her tenderly. Her hands find their way to his firm chest and roam around, feeling his defined muscles while he sucks on her supple lips.

The kiss quickly heats up when she whimpers against his mouth, a sound Remus will never forget. They breathe and moan into each other while rolling their tongues in sync like a dance, sending tingles down their spines. The taste of chocolate and strawberries lingers, making the kiss that much more intoxicating.

Brigitte drapes her legs across Remus', curling up to get closer to him and warm up. He holds her, trailing his hand from her knee to her thigh and up the side of her waist. Brigitte moans at the firm touch, giving him the confidence to trail even higher and cup her breast. He groans into her mouth when he feels that she's not wearing anything under the dress.

They break the kiss, panting heavily. Still touching her intimately, Remus looks at Brigitte with a primal hunger. "Do you ... want to go back to Grimmauld Place?".

** I think we all know happens next. Next chapter is smut, dolls**

♡ ♡

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

Text

Part 3: The Heroine

The Lord of the Rings : Multishot

Samwise Gamgee x Reader

Word count: 6246

Warnings: ✋ some scraped hands. 🌳 falling out of a tree. 🌸 flower crowns. 🚬 smoking. 😢 jealous feelings. 💖 and small confessions.

Request: “Could I request a multishot with samwise gamgee x reader and sam has always had a crush on her, but on their journey he realizes she's even better than he imagined her to be (like when you stop crushing but actually fall in love)” @the-narnian-sea

A/N: I’ve skipped the Rivendell reunion and the council meeting

Part 2: The Herbalist

Part 3: The Heroine {You Are Here}

Part 4: The Griever

Thunk went an arrow. Thunk went another.

(Y/N) sat atop the railing of a stone balcony, one leg bent at the knee and another hanging over the edge. It swung back and forth lazily as she peered below.

Another thunk as an arrow sunk deep into the target.

It was the long haired beauty from Mirkwood stringing his bow. He drew his arm back and the tautness of the string could be heard against his fingers.

(Y/N) smirked, knowing full well the elf prince was aware of her presence though it resided a floor above him. She held an apple in one hand and a dagger in the other. She began cutting slices to eat.

The training yard belonged to the elves of Rivendell – the sanctuary the hobbits sought. It led to a number of skirmishes involving Frodo’s healing, the whereabouts of the missing Gandalf, and the tending to (Y/N)’s wounds. As well as what was to be done with the One Ring.

It led to the formation of a Fellowship. One (Y/N) spied upon from a distance. Though she couldn’t deny her part in it; once she saw her cousins and Sam join there was no question in whether she would join too.

But as beforementioned, she joined at a distance.

“Must you always be eagle eyeing?” Sam came around near her shoulder.

“Oh, come off it,” she giggled, “You’re one to talk – always staring after any elf that passes you by.”

He grumbled, “Can’t help it. They’re so tall and beautiful and wise and… tall.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind my staring now,” she bit a slice of apple and pondered the elf prince below.

Sam got closer, leaning against the railing, “How’s your wound?”

“Scarring quite nicely,” she munched, “Care to see?”

“That’s alright,” he said with rosiness, “Just glad you’re healed.”

“Better be with the journey we’re about to make.”

“So you’re going.” His voice was quiet and sounded conflicted, as in he knew he shouldn’t have a final say in her decision but wanted her to know.

(Y/N) offered a slice of her apple to Sam, “How could I not when people I love are going.” She ignored his downcast eyes, knowing his wish to object, “I don’t believe I shall interrupt much, I’ll keep to the trees when I can.”

Sam munched on his apple slice to fill the silence that followed. “How would we know you’re safe when you’re off the path?” At her shrug he interjected again, “It was awful hard not to worry about you while on the journey here. I can’t imagine how much harder that’ll be with the perils ahead.”

“You were always a bit of the protective type,” she smirked, eyeing his seriousness, “But I can hold my own. You think I haven’t had my fair share of perils in the Old Forest? Wolves and thieves and the like?”

“I won’t stop you,” he said admiringly, “You were always the bravest hobbit I ever knew.”

“But this won’t be the end of it,” she said with raised eyebrows, “You’ll be fretting like a mother hen, no doubt, for the remainder of the journey.”

Sam smiled, rosy as he said, “Can you blame me?” He tried to think of something quick, stumbling on his next words. “W-We need our inspired healer to take care of us. And Pippin will be a nightmare without all the woodland snacks you provide.”

She tossed around the core of her apple, “Aragorn knows a thing or two about medicinal herbs.”

“Not as well as you, I don’t believe it for a second.”

She smiled again, “I could teach you a thing or two about healing.” She pocketed her small dagger, “I mean, in the event I’m incapacitated and unable to be of service, we’ll need some others who can help.”

Sam eyed the spot on her abdomen that was once open and bleeding. “Might be for the best.”

“Brilliant,” she mused, peering down at the training yard, “Oh, it looks like our elven prince has been joined by a rival.”

Indeed, below on the grassy plain of land, another familiar face joining the fellowship was sharpening his axe. The dwarf Gimli was huffing about his business, apparently trying to annoy the elf concentrating on his archery.

“Easy to hit the target when only thirty feet away,” he grumbled, “I do believe we’ll be attacking the enemy on much looser footing, and it won’t be with a standstill bullseye.”

Legolas had his bow strung and pulled back, but he hesitated to fire until the dwarf was finished. He sent the arrow straight down the middle of a previous stuck in the target. The wooden shaft splintered under the force.

“If you care to see my skill amongst moving targets, perhaps you should take a lap around the yard.”

Gimli scoffed, unhappy with the retort, “Is that a threat?”

An apple core came sailing into the yard, knocking the top of Gimli’s braided head. The arguing pair swerved their eyes for the archways built above them.

(Y/N) was giggling, “You’re not meant to kill each other before our journey even begins.”

Gimli seemed at a loss for words, flabbergasted at her interruption, but Legolas observed her with a straight back and lowered brows.

“The mysterious fifth hobbit,” he nodded his head, “I’ve heard reports of your apparent skill.”

She nodded in return, standing on the railing she was sitting upon. Sam lifted his hands to her, afraid she might fall.

“Reports from whom, my friend?”

“Lord Aragorn,” the elf replied, “He seemed impressed with what he saw in the short time you’ve been together.”

(Y/N) smiled before beginning to descend down the chiseled walls of the training yard.

“(Y/N)!” Sam called out, “What are you doing?”

She laughed, sliding down the stone pillars as easily as if it were the bark of a tree. “Sam, be a dear and toss me my staff.”

He hesitated, perhaps ensuring that she hadn’t twist an ankle before doing as she asked. She caught her wooden staff easily, running her fingers along the many bite marks and scratches imbedded into the old wood.

“I suppose you think yourself clever,” Gimli called out, his Scottish tone thick. “Scaling stone walls and the like.”

“I think myself an experienced forester,” she bowed to the dwarf, “The woodlands are my specialty.”

“Which won’t be much help with the lack of forests along our route,” he continued, smirking, “And that flimsy tree branch is supposed to protect you?”

She shrugged, spinning the staff in her hand, “It has in the past.” She considered the dwarf with a respectful eye, “I’ve heard tell of your father Master Gloin.”

“Have you?” Gimli seemed taken aback, lowering the axe he was beginning to brandish.

“Sure, I’ve visited the Blue Mountains on occasion of my travels along the Free Lands. Your father was one of the few I’ve met. Magnificent refuge is the Blue Mountains and an even more magnificent people.”

Gimli lessened his frown, his bushy brows raising, “The Blue Mountains was my place of birth.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “But I believe you’ve returned to Erebor since then. How is the kingdom under the mountain? Master Gloin has told me of the riches there. Not just in treasure but in good food and in good company. Perhaps we could share a pint and discuss it more over dinner.”

Gimli was quiet for a moment before his chest began to shake with laughter, “Had my father chosen to stay after the council I would’ve asked him to dine with us.” His laughs were positively booming then, “I did not expect the young hobbit lass to be so knowledgeable of the world.”

“We all have our shortcomings, Master Dwarf,” she winked. “Many of us are plagued with quick judgements.”

Gimli pointed a finger towards her and gave another gruff laugh, “We have more to learn of you yet.”

“I would say I have much more to learn of you,” (Y/N) continued, “Though I do wield a staff, I haven’t been formally trained in the art.”

“It’s true the dwarves have skill in staff weaponry,” Gimli was now leaning against his axe, contemplating, “But we normally use iron staffs – wood is much lighter. Perhaps we could talk to the smithery about that.”

Legolas saw fit to interject, “The smiths here are most apt in embedding strength and protective magic into their work. Your staff would much look the same but have capabilities far beyond a regular branch.”

(Y/N) bowed her head again, “I would appreciate the help.”

“Well, then,” Gimli yelled, grasping his axe with two hands now, “Let’s see where your starting skill is, and we’ll work from there.”

(Y/N) brandished her staff, pointing it towards the dwarf, “Gladly.”

“Cocky one, isn’t she?” Gimli laughed, circling the training yard, “We’ll make a warrior out of you yet.”

Legolas cracked a smile as he laid his bow against the wall and moved to observe the combat. He folded his arms, waiting to offer advice when appropriate.

And Sam remained above, watching the whole interaction with apprehension. He found his grip on the stone railing tight as she approached the strangers. But it was lax now as he marveled at the way she dispersed the coming argument with friendship.

She was unreal. Unattainable. A faraway story you told the children before bed.

~~~

The elven dining hall was immaculate. The rich autumn colors of Rivendell painted a warm seating arrangement among the cast of characters.

The trees were shimmering orange and yellow beneath the setting sun. The hall was wide and open with no windows, just stone pillars holding a ceiling aloft. Delicate silver and gold vines were designed around each column, metal plated flowers and leaves welded there.

(Y/N) was enjoying the beauty at her own end table near the balcony. Beside her was a dazzling stone and marble fountain spitting water into a crystal bowl.

Behind her was Gimli entertaining her rambunctious cousins with ale-addled stories from under the mountain. Frodo sat with Lord Elrond and Master Gandalf, no doubt discussing the coming journey of the Ring. Legolas was bowed with Aragorn and talking rapidly in hushed elvish.

She barely noticed the hulking figure of Boromir approaching until he pulled out a chair beside her.

“May I?”

She turned her head quick with the reflexes of a forest rabbit. She stared at him wide before nodding dimly, “Of course.”

The warrior smiled and took a seat, “I wanted to introduce myself before our departure tomorrow.”

(Y/N) only nodded, still assessing his intentions.

“I hail from Gondor. My father is the steward there. My brother and I assist in protecting the realm and surrounding lands.”

“I know of the pale city and the white tree presiding over it.”

“Do you?” Boromir raised his brows, “I’ve been warned that of the fair folk you are the one most informed of the world.”

She shrugged one shoulder, “I grow tired of doing nothing.”

“I’ve heard tell of the free lands cherishing the peace and quiet.”

“They cherish ignorance and laziness more likely.”

Boromir huffed a laugh, “Are you so quick to judge your own people?”

“I can be proud of my race and still be disappointed in the things they do.” She picked through a salad with oil and vinegar. “I’m sure your people have done things you’re not overly proud of.”

“Naturally that comes with being,” he said, intrigued by her wise words, “We’re all flawed.”

“That’s easy to say, but hard to admit.”

Boromir continued to laugh, “Are you saying I can’t admit when I’m the one flawed?”

“It’s easy to say hobbits can be wrong, but more difficult to say I have been wrong.”

“I suppose I fall in that boat more often than I care to say,” Boromir folded his arms, “I look forward to this journey.”

(Y/N) smiled, “Well, don’t worry, I don’t plan on being seen much.”

“Your meaning?”

“I’ll be keeping my distance. Just enough to be in sights but never a bother.”

“I see,” Boromir said a bit dully, “I would appreciate your charm amongst the rest of the fleas.”

She laughed, “I’d hardly call my cousins fleas. Little squirrels maybe – stealing your things and running for the nearest hiding place.”

“You’ll be saying differently when they’ve become rough and tumbled like the rest of us,” he grimaced, “You wouldn’t believe the things that crawl across a man’s skin after not bathing for…”

(Y/N) held up her hands, “Alright, thank you – that’s enough.” She giggled, “I don’t need to imagine more horrors about what men involve themselves with.”

Boromir offered his hand with a smooth smile, “Miss. (Y/N)…”

She gave her hand freely, no longer so apprehensive as she was minutes before. “Yes.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” he held her hand delicately, drawing it to his lips, “You have my protection should you have need of it.”

She bowed her head, hiding the heat blossoming in her cheeks. “Give my regards to the rest of the fellowship.”

Boromir rose and departed for the main dining table hosting the rest of the guests. (Y/N) watched him go with a slight wondering shake of her head. After over a week in Rivendell she managed to pledge herself to a fellowship and somehow befriend all of them in one way or another.

Sidestepping into her line of vision was Samwise, following her gaze to the back of Boromir and to her still outstretched hand.

“He’s friendly.”

“Sam!” she smiled at him, trying to rub the pink out of her cheeks from her encounter with Boromir. “Enjoying dinner? Their smoked squash and mushrooms is particularly good.”

Sam, though usually one timid to make eye contact with her too long, wasn’t allowing the fear to creep in as his mind wandered. He seemed uneasy as he chose the seat beside her.

“You’ve been sitting here all evening.”

“I enjoy the solitude.”

“But I can imagine it gets lonely,” Sam inquired, hands fumbling in his lap.

(Y/N) sighed, “I have many friends. The trees, the rivers, the animals. I can’t be so lonely with all that company.”

“But you can’t tell me it’s the same as the company of people.”

“I’ve heard you converse with plants well enough,” she teased, “You can’t tell me you don’t find company amongst the gardens.”

Sam finally cracked a smile, “You have me there.” He still picked at his fingers, “I still don’t think you should isolate yourself this entire journey.”

“Are you still going on about me venturing off the path?”

“You know I can’t help but worry,” he tried to smile past the grumbling look (Y/N) started giving him. “Perhaps making friends with the fellowship will have you changing your mind. The man from Gondor seemed interested enough.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, “Boromir may prove a favorable companion.”

“Favorable companion,” Sam repeated under his breath. “And the elf prince?”

“Hilarious in a cryptic, one-liner kind of way.”

“The Master Dwarf?”

She snorted, “Gimli is stubborn and already fiercely loyal all in the best of ways.”

“Aragorn?”

“Handsome.”

Sam snapped his head up so fast his curls bounced, “I’m sorry?”

(Y/N) shrugged, unabashed, “In a rugged stranger kind of way.”

“Maybe you should stay closer to the tree line,” Sam said comically to hide the jealous fear growing inside of him, “Keep you from these rugged strangers.”

She laughed, “Realizing your competition, are you?” She laughed even harder at his terrified expression, “I’m only joking, Sam.”

That only seemed to send his heart pounding even further, “You’re always sending me on the verge of a heart attack.”

“I hadn’t realized I was wrapped so tightly around it.” Her smile was mischievous, but there was that familiar tug in her own heart. That strange little seed that Sam had planted weeks or maybe even months before. It’s tiny roots were beginning to thread into the beats of her chest. They pulled on her as the mischievousness melted into something a bit more hopeful.

Less teasing and more flirting.

Sam, a mighty cherry blossom tree sprouted in his heart, knew that every root, branch, and leaf had grown for her. It had yet to flower and bloom into something truly magnificent, but he knew if he cared for it long enough it would. At least he hoped it would.

It twisted taller and fuller in his chest as (Y/N) looked at him then.

“You…” he swallowed thickly, “You’ve always had a part of my heart, (Y/N). Since we were kids.”

She smiled warmly, “Was it me stealing you away for adventures or was it me teaching you elvish in the East Farthing?”

Sam attempted to drown out the blood in his ears with his voice, but it came out in more of whisper, much to his disdain. “It was just you. You were always like one of those heroines from the stories Bilbo used to tell us. And when you left for your travels you became a storybook character. Tales of your adventures painted you like this beautiful tracker of the woods, befriending the people of Middle Earth and protecting us from invaders.”

(Y/N) slid a hand under her chin, listening to him ramble. The more he talked it seemed his confidence grew.

“And whenever you came back to visit the Shire it was like one of my heroes coming to life,” he felt like he was free falling, terrifyingly close to splattering on the ground. “You always seemed so impossible, too good to be true. When we were kids you were the kindhearted hobbit from next door that always managed to cause a little trouble. Then you were this brave, audacious traveler that didn’t mind being the outcast. And now for the first time…”

(Y/N) leaned in a bit further, the seedling in her heart reaching little green leaves into her chest, “What?”

“It’s like I’m meeting you for the first time.” His face was bright and warm and at her mercy, “I’m seeing the inspiration behind the heroine. She’s still kindhearted, still brave, still audacious, and still able to cause trouble. But she’s real. She has passions and dreams and a family who loves her and a life she’s made her own. I just never realized…” He hesitated, “I made you into a story when you’re right in front of me.”

He gave a nervous laugh at (Y/N)’s wide eyes. She was trying to hide her smile, sucking in her lips to nibble on them as he talked.

“I knew you thought highly of my bravery,” she said animatedly, “But I never knew you thought me imaginary.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he smacked a hand over his eyes but smiled regardless. “You’re always lightening the mood, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) said quietly, pure sunlight in her chest giving her seedling a growth spurt.

Sam tugged at his buttoned vest, his mind a repeating loop of the words he almost said but hesitated enough to divert. If the journey had shown him anything so far, it was that he never realized the difference between having feelings for (Y/N) and actually falling in love with her.

~~~

The woods were becoming sparse as they traveled south, closer to the mountains on their way to Caradhras. (Y/N) cherished each step she could take beneath the trees; she knew the majority of the journey wouldn’t fall on forest paths.

She whistled to the birds and hummed with the bees, fingers splayed out to the sunlight. The damp leaves and brown moss wriggled between her toes, reminding her of the rich soil of the Shire. The smell of fresh dirt and warm plants, irrigated with crisp rainwater.

She bowed to gather flowers in her nimble fingers, smiling at the thought of Shire gardens and meadows.

The fellowship wasn’t far ahead, paving the way for her to follow. It was easy to track their low toned voices through the thinning trees.

In an effort to occupy the hours and ignore the growing ache in her legs, (Y/N) began peeling sprouts and flower stems. She tied the green together, accentuating the flower buds, little colorful bundles of popcorn.

When flowers broke from the stem threads, she tucked them into her hair, fitting snugly between the coils of her boisterous hobbit hair. She was soon surrounded by lovely smelling colors.

By the time she caught up to the fellowship, the sun was getting low, and she had a collection of flower crowns and necklaces around her wrists.

“Here is our ghost of the wood,” Merry cried out, digging into his smoking pipe, “Our spirit of the trees.”

“Has the spirit come bearing gifts?” Pippin asked hopefully, fingers digging into his stomach.

(Y/N) giggled, “The ground is becoming too rocky as we get closer to the mountains. Root vegetables can’t thrive here.”

“Fruit trees?”

“Too cold.”

Pippin pouted, “Berry bushes?”

(Y/N) shook her head, holding out her arms, “No, but there were plenty of flowers.”

The young hobbit seemed to consider it for a second, as if he was truly so hungry he’d eat anything.

“You were always able to craft such wonderful trinkets,” Frodo said admiringly, matching his cousins stride.

“Then you get the prettiest one,” she said happily, placing a crown of threaded green and white flowers upon his dark curls.

He wore them with pride, giving her a one armed hug. She smiled in return, placing a crown of blue flowers on Merry’s head and one of yellow on Pippin’s. The latter seemed remarkably cheered up by the gift, Merry merely shrugged and sighed.

“What is this?” Gimli grumbled, “Decorating your hairs with forest debris?”

“You may choose to adorn your braids with gold and silver,” (Y/N) laughed, “But the fair folk have always enjoyed the simple pleasantries of the earth.” She addressed the dwarf with a bundle of pale flowers, “It’s lighter than rock and smells better than mine alloy.”

Gimli seemed apprehensive as the hobbit girl wove the flowers into his crisscrossed beard. He was putting on a scowl for the effect, but his cheeks were rosy with affection as he mumbled, “You’re a fine lass, (Y/N).”

She gave a single nod, spotting other companions eyeing their movements. “Care for a relic of the forest?”

They continued walking but Legolas slowed to reach her stance. He was silent as he held out his hand, accepting a rope of white buds and tying it elegantly around his bow.

(Y/N) was biting her lip to keep herself from smiling too wide. She turned to spot her last hobbit companion, her chest full of sunshine at seeing his face.

“Hello,” he said quietly, “Did you tumble in a meadow? Your hair is full of flowers.”

She came alongside Bill the pony and pat his neck, earning a low bray of sentiment. “I didn’t want any to go to waste.” She ignored his staring as she approached him to place a crown of pink and speckled white upon his curls.

He turned red.

“I knew it,” she smiled wide, “They’d match your cheeks.” She continued to laugh as he spluttered.

“So very cruel,” he mumbled, heat flooding his face. “How do you do that?”

She placed a pink bundle behind his pointed ear and hummed excitedly, “Do what?”

“Warm my face just by looking at me.”

She twirled a few lone flowers between two fingers, walking alongside him, “I don’t try to on purpose.”

“I just have to figure out how to do the same to you.” He pulled on Bill, frustrated at his hot face and rashly spoken thoughts.

(Y/N) organized her wildflowers into a neat bouquet, long grasses and green leaves tying them together. “I may not get red in the face,” she smiled, “But you certainly have done something similar to me.”

Sam snapped his eyes to hers, “I have?”

Dare she say he sounded hopeful. “There’s a warmth in my heart when I see you,” she shoved his shoulder, “You are one of my dearest companions.” Before she let herself interpret his reaction, she held out the wildflowers, “For you…”

He clamped his mouth shut as he accepted the beautiful gift.

“Since you miss your gardens.”

He was at a loss as she bounded happily toward her cousins. Merry had lit his smoking pipe and Pippin was holding one of his yellow flowers, picking away at the petals.

“I am hungry. I’m not hungry. I am hungry. I’m not hungry.” He plucked a final petal, “I am hungry.”

“The plant has spoken,” (Y/N) said, wrapping her arms around her cousins, “I think we should start making camp.”

“Yes,” Gandalf called ahead, “Dearest (Y/N). We’ve reached the pass for the mountain trail. By tomorrow afternoon we’ll enter freezing temperatures as we near higher elevation.” The wizard stopped the fellowship, “It would be for the best to rest here tonight before beginning that laborious part of our journey.”

“As if the road before wasn’t perilous enough,” Merry said sardonically, “Let’s add snowy mountains.”

(Y/N) shifted her pack, “Oh, it’s all part of the fun.”

Boromir chuckled where he stood gripping his strong sword, “That’s good. We’ll need an optimist where we’re going.”

She sent him a wink that was matched with one of his own. And camp was made that night stiffly as they dwelled on the windswept trails ahead of them. There would be no forest floors or wooden paths, only rocky cliffs and the bitter cold.

(Y/N) chose to sit beside Sam, brushing knees as the firelight dimmed. There was that strange tug between the pair of them – (Y/N)’s heart of growing sprouts turning towards him like a sunflower to the sun.

“Where are the other younglings?” Boromir grunted, sitting himself next to Aragorn.

Frodo received a bowl of makeshift stew from their resident wizard, “They’ve gone to find more kindling.”

“Begrudgingly, I might add,” (Y/N) smiled faintly. “I think their resolve is still stuck in the Shire. It’ll take a few more weeks for them to face reality.”

Gimli was stoking his pipe, “Care for some?” He offered a tin towards Sam, who accepted it gratefully. “At this rate we’ll be out of pipe weed before crossing the Misty Mountains.”

“We ran out of Old Toby about a week ago,” Sam chuckled, “Hobbits could rival any man in their smoking habits.”

The dwarf laughed heartily, taking a draw from his smoking pipe, “My kind of people. Good food, rich ale, and quality pipe weed.”

Sam held his pipe up to salute him, lighting the end of it and puffing a few times. The air surrounding them became hazy with more than just campfire smoke. Gimli settled against the rocky ridge blocking the incoming wind and (Y/N) leaned into Sam.

“Mind if I have a go?”

Gimli barked a laugh, speaking out of the side of his mouth, “This is no ordinary pipe weed, lass. Women are too delicate for the herb.”

(Y/N) smiled roguishly, sneaking the pipe from her friend. She licked her lips and drew a breath so deep the end glowed with infinite embers of orange light. Sam raised his eyebrows, not daring to complain that she was burning through their precious store of weed.

She finally pulled the pipe away, closing her eyes and leaning back. There was so much smoke in her lungs that it was slipping out of her nose involuntarily.

Gimli blinked a few times, mouth agape and pipe hanging limp from his lips.

After a few seconds (Y/N) finally blew out a slow breath, smoke plumed around her head and masked her easy smile. “I haven’t had anything to smoke in ages.”

Sam received his pipe once again with a wonderous shake of his head, “You’d never know.”

“A mere dabbler in the art,” Gimli said gruffly, squaring his shoulders and taking a draw from his pipe to match (Y/N)’s. Almost instantly the dwarf began choking, coughing on the smoke and making his eyes water.

Boromir laughed loudly, shoving Aragorn over in his delight. Sam bit his pipe as (Y/N) hid her face in his shoulder.

“Looks like you could use a few pointers,” Boromir coughed on his laughs.

“(Y/N)!” The voice of Merry came from the sparse woods surrounding them, “Could you give us a hand, please?”

(Y/N) stood from the ground, fixing her sage green trousers, “If you would excuse me, my cousins have found themselves desperate for my assistance – as per usual.”

The rest of the fellowship continued to chuckle as she padded around the bedrolls and campfire. Sam could see the looks of endearment on all their faces. (Y/N) could win the hearts of any person within a fortnight, it would seem.

He held his pipe and couldn’t help but feel his own heart beat out of proportion. He didn’t want to be just another face of endearment from the fellowship. He wanted to be seen above that – be something more than that.

His smile started to dip into a jealous frown.

On the outskirts of their camp was (Y/N) and Merry standing at the base of a tree, hands on their hips. Pippin was dangling from a branch above them.

“And you can’t pull yourself up?”

“The branch is going to break!” Pippin groaned.

“And what? You expect me to catch you?” (Y/N) snickered, “Why didn’t you call for one of the men?”

Merry shoved his cousin, “You get us out of trouble all the time. Can’t you do something?”

She sighed, shoving him even harder – to the point he tripped backwards. “Give me a second.” She started climbing the tree trunk, “Merry, be under him just in case. Pip, can you wrap your legs around the branch?”

Pippin swung his legs up, so he was bear hugging the branch. It wavered dangerously, creaking and cracking a fraction more.

“Can you crawl over until you’re on top?” she was already straddling the same branch closer to the trunk where it wasn’t cracked yet. “Then reach for my hands.”

Pippin shimmied up the branch, holding on for his dear life and ignoring the snide remarks coming from Merry below. He outstretched a hand, grappling for her own. She stabilized him as he scooted for the safe end of the branch.

It creaked and snapped under his weight.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” (Y/N) said, pulling on her cousin, “It’s going to…”

Pippin lunged for her, ramming into the trunk and knocking (Y/N) off balance. She cried out as she fell, clutching at anything her hands could find purchase on. The branch snapped completely, nearly collapsing on Merry.

“Damn it all,” she cried out, one hand sliding down the jagged edge of the broken branch and the other digging into the rough bark.

“(Y/N)!” Pippin called out, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” He grabbed fistfuls of her shirt and tunic and pulled her to him.

She grimaced as the pair of them descended the tree trunk, “It’s all right, Pip – I’m all right.” She uncurled her burning hands and saw the lines of bleeding, scraped skin where the broken branch sliced her palm.

“Oh, curse me,” he replied, lightly holding her hands, “That looks like it hurts.”

“A little,” she swallowed, “It’s not your fault, Pip. Let’s get back to camp. I have bandages and herbs there.”

Merry was brushing leaves and twigs from his cloak, “I am unscathed, thank goodness.” He grimaced, “That looks like it hurts.”

(Y/N) gave a short smile, “I always underestimate how much trouble the pair of you are.”

They escorted her back to the camp, the rest of the fellowship settling down for the night. Gandalf was extinguishing his own pipe when he spotted the limping trio.

“What has happened?”

As if the question signaled an incoming siege, the other company members snapped their heads around, looking for the bad news. (Y/N) hushed her cousins before they could speak.

“A little mishap with the kindling.”

“Are you all right?” came Frodo’s voice, standing from his bedroll. Pippin was looking flushed and embarrassed.

She waved him off with her less injured hand, “Fine, fine. Just got snagged on the bark.” She placed a comforting touch to Pippin’s shoulder, “Nothing is amiss.”

“Leave them be,” Gandalf said, winking at (Y/N) before lowering his hat to cover his eyes, “Lets not fret over the little things when much greater lie before us.”

She gave a playful nudge to Merry and Pippin, the latter giving her a remorseful look and another quiet apology.

“Is that true?” Sam whispered to her as she sat on her bedroll, “Is something amiss?”

She grabbed her side satchel full of her medicinal herbs, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh,” he winced, spotting the cuts along her palm, “Why feel the need to lie?”

“I haven’t,” she practically gasped at his accusation, “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Clearly,” he said, a slight grumble in his tone. The aching, jealous part of him was growing. “You don’t have to hide things from me, you know. I don’t understand this need of yours to keep everyone at arm’s length.”

Her face fell, voice lowering to just above a whisper, “Don’t you?”

He sighed heavy and frustrated. Yes, he did understand. You don’t spend your entire childhood idolizing a girl without trying to figure her out. She had always been different and different wasn’t a sought trait in the Shire.

She had learned to keep things to herself.

“Let me help,” he inched closer to her.

“I’ve got it.”

“Don’t you dare…” he said warningly, “… send me away.” He grabbed her hand gently, “You can’t bandage this with only one good hand, and you promised to teach me some healing techniques.”

She was looking at him with wide eyes and an open heart, “I’m sorry.”

“What do I need?” he asked, poking around her supplies.

She sniffed, “That jar of honey. It’s a miracle worker at healing injuries and keeping out infection. Just spread a little bit and wrap it with the linen roll.”

Sam opened the small jar and extracted the little spoon tied to the lid. He laid her open hand on his knee, scooping a spoonful of honey. It fell thick and golden against the bleeding scrapes on her palm.

“I’m surprised Pippin hasn’t sniffed this out of your bag yet.”

She smiled, though there was still a hint of tension between them. “He’d eat all the plants in my bag if he knew they were edible.”

“I apologize for snapping at you.”

“I hadn’t realized you could be so commanding, Sam. I must’ve pushed a few too many buttons.”

He finally smiled in return, “I just… I thought we were getting closer. Maybe I was just hoping.” He focused his attention on the linen he was wrapping around her sticky sweet hand.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

He flickered his gaze to hers, “You wouldn’t mind my intentions?”

“I can’t imagine they’d be malicious,” she swallowed hard, chest tickled with new seedlings. “What are your intentions?”

“To…” he tied off the bandage, running a finger along the fraying edges. “… earn your affections.”

(Y/N) froze, face painted pale with the dying embers of the fire. “I see.”

He retracted his hand, clearing his throat, “I realize nothing will happen until I’ve spoken plain. We’ve been dancing around it for years now and I thought… well…” he scratched the base of his neck, pulling at his collar.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, “I’ve been questioning these new sentiments I feel towards you.”

Sam widened his gaze, full and vulnerable under her words.

“Perhaps they should be explored,” she said, her face beginning to feel warm.

He smiled wide, pointing a finger at her cheeks. “You’re turning pink.” Her hands flew to her face. “Positively red.”

She coughed a laugh, “Now you’ve done it.” She hid her face with her hands, “All it took was speaking from the heart.”

He removed her hands, holding them in his, “I know it’s unconventional to propose courtship while in our current situation.” He listened to his heart pounding in his ears, “But I’m not sure I’ll survive another day pretending not to feel these things for you.”

“Yes, it’s unusual,” she smiled, “But not unwelcome.” She settled against her bedroll, holding Sam’s hand tightly, “I’m glad you told me.”

“And your answer is?”

She thought for a moment, “Lets not be hasty. We don’t know what this journey will bring, and I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.” She could almost feel his heart sink, “But… as soon as we’re home… I’m all yours.”

His mouth fell open, unable to make a sound. She tried not to look at him to embarrass him further. She squeezed his hand instead, pulling him to lay on his own bedroll.

“Tell me a story of home.”

Sam cleared his throat, having to force his eyes to stare at the night sky instead of her serenely pink face.

“There was a time, back in younger days, when a little hobbit found himself stuck tending to gardens beneath his displeased father. His only hope of rescue was in the heroine of the hills. She sailed across sheep herds and tickled sleeping beasts with river reeds. She was fearless and charitable to all. And once on a beautiful cloudless day, she took pity on the young gardener. She dragged him out of the weeds and showed him the wonders of the world. And his heart never beat quite the same after that.”

~~~

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