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#pippin is pippin he's pure chaos
weed-dog · 1 year
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LOTR ice skating headcanons
I finally tried ice skating again, after 4 years, and i came up with these while trying to act cool and fighting for my balance (i'm terrible at multitasking). Anyways i hope you enjoy these <3
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If you were wondering how did the Fellowship end up in such situatuon: it was the hobbits' idea (looking at Pippin rn)
Merry and Pippin might be clumsy but they learnt it quicker than anyone else, it's chaotic but they're actually talented (and constantly laughing and chasing each other. And Boromir.)
Frodo was a bit shy at the beginning, and much more careful
Sam still dislikes water even when it's frozen, but he can't sit and watch Frodo trying alone
Let's Help Mr.Frodo At All Cost
No need to say Legolas doesn't get it why the mortals are struggling, bro could be a gold-winning figure skater
Gimli will never go near the ice, no matter what
So he sits next to Gandalf who's also too extra to skate, insulting Legolas and encouraging the hobbits
If even the hobbits could master this talent, what could stop Boromir, son of Gondor?
He is trying so hard while Merry and Pippin are circling around him, pulling his cloak
He eventually learns to keep his balance
In a weak moment he offers to teach Aragorn
Have you seen him running. Walking. Fighting. Have you ever seen how he moves on land.
Aragorn is pure chaos on ice.
Apologies to the king of Gondor, but-
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I love him more than i love my life, but Aragorn son of Arathorn wasn't made for ice skating.
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sam-glade · 9 months
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It Blursday!! 🖤💜
WE’RE TAKING THE SQUADDIES TO EISENGARD!
You don’t have to fill all the roles, and they don’t all have to be from the same WIP, but who’s:
the Ring-bearer, entrusted with carrying the One Ring (bonus: funniest instance they use it to nope right out of reality)
the “Sam”, armed with a frying pan and a wizard of potatoes
Sean Bean, who dies in every movie — falls victim to their own hubris
totally crushing on Arwen and has a really cool sword
AND MY AXE
AND MY GLOCK BOW
Merry and Pippin the “package deal”, very concerned about missing second breakfast
the dude with a sick staff and a concerning amount of explosives, may or may not be an actual wizard
— @outpost51
Ok wow this took me a while to get to, but here goes nothing:
Everyone assumes Ianim is the pure cinnamon roll who would never be tempted by the Ring, and he's not assertive enough to decline it. Oops. Lissan is probably more like Frodo in some ways - better educated than expected of someone with his background, the feeling of not quite belonging, coming from an influential/respected family (his dad is a master of ceremonies - a commoner, but organises rites of passage and sorts out related legal things).
Lissan. Lissan is the Sam. Shameless link to the 'Cooking Lessons' scene - feels on brand
Ok, I don't think we have a Sean Bean. Well, maybe Anthea? She's the patriotic one looking for any advantage she can use to improve the state of the First Princedom. But it's by the process of elimination.
THEY ALL HAVE COOL SWORDS, NEXT. Uh. I'm going to assume we're going by movie!Aragorn, which will be Ianim. Actually, book!Aragorn AFAIR likes poetry and was trained to be a ruler, so that's still Ianim.
And my axe - Nikols. I haven't talked about him much, because his primary role in the story is to be the heavy hitter, when Lissan isn't around.
And my bow - Ok, Ok, but hear me out: Legolas is the one who's way too easy to dare into stupid things, into unnecessary competitions and challenges. And he will cover up what he doesn't know with what is totally showing off, because he's too proud to admit his ignorance. Here's a breakdown of why Legolas rides a horse without a saddle, despite all the other elven cultures in which horses were important use saddles. So anyway, that's totally Gullin.
The package deal are totally Lissan and Gullin - when it's just the two of them, they work fine together, Lissan's emotional intelligence offsets Gullin's posturing. When let loose into the world? Chaos inbound.
Varré. In some backstory snippet, I actually had a scene mirroring the 'you wouldn't deprive an old man of his staff' - Varré's Weapon is an ordinary looking sabre.
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angie-j-kay · 1 year
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First Sentences Tag
Rules: Share the first sentence of your last ten fics/stories. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first sentences as you have. (It should be noted that the character of Tracey Rutledge has been through several different incarnations, and has been shoehorned into a plethora of attemtped and abandoned fanfictions and goofy roleplay games before coming to What You Cast Out. Actually, she started out as a Phantom of the Opera fic I was doing as a joke back in '04, but whatever. Also, these are so not in order.)
1: Unwilling Messiah (Dragon Age/Tracey)
Ow.
2: Saving Prince Charming (Original Fic, same universe as What You Cast Out but otherwise independent)
Some say that this is the sort of story that should start with “Once upon a time,” or something like that.
3: (This one doesn't have a title, it's based on Norse Mythology.)
It was Yule.
4: (Same series, still no title.)
It was long enough ago that he couldn't be completely certain, but as far as Loki was aware he had always known he wasn't entirely Aesir.
5: Hannah (Original Fic, completely independent and SOMEDAY I will bring it to fruition. I'm actually super-proud of this story, so y'all can have a whole paragraph.)
Once upon a time there was a little girl named Hannah who lived in the dark. Not that she knew that she lived in the dark, of course. There were plenty of candles all over the tunnels, so she thought she lived in the brightest, happiest place in existence. She didn’t even have a word for sad, or for pain. She had lived there forever, if you asked her. She couldn’t remember anything before the darkness, or exactly when it started, so it must have been forever.
6: Pass the Popcorn (Doctor Who/Star Trek crossover, back when Matt Smith was the Doctor.)
“Q, I demand that you return us all to our ships immediately!” Picard shouted, infuriated.
7: Mulcahy's Miracle (MASH/X-Men crossover written as a dare, I think it might actually still be on Fanfiction.net somewhere.)
There were so many bodies in the truck... so many.
8: "Nicole Goes to the Republic" is the file name. This one's OLD, like over a decade old. It's a Star Wars Prequel fic based on a freaking awesome dream I had once.
I popped a stick of Winterfresh into my mouth, laughing at the crack the dude sitting next to me had made.
9: Tracey and the Hobbits (Written PURELY to squick my husband out, and because things like sex sort of went unmentioned in Lord of the Rings. For context, you're gonna need the whole paragraph.)
It started with a Hobbit. Two hobbits, actually. If you asked her, however, Tracey would say that it started about three days before, with ale. That was when Pippin had said it.
10: This one's labelled "Soulmate AU Crackfic," and it's based on a joke. I was sent a dare to write Tracey and the MCU Loki in one of those soulmate AU things, and this is the chaos that ensued.
No one knew where Loki vanished to after his failed attack on New York City.
I've got to go make dinner, but I'm just gonna offer this one to anyone who wants it.
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Continue - Part 3
Summary: You have been ripped away from your world and tossed into one that is supposed to be pure fiction. You know the stories, how they are supposed to go. Despite your knowledge, you are unable to change the fates of the Fellowship you had grown so close to.
Pairing: Legolas x Modern!Reader
Word Count: 1,957
Warnings/Disclaimers:  Violence, mentions of blood.
A/N: So this one turned into a beast. I wanted to write in some of the Battle of Helm’s Deep to try something different. Hopefully, this worked out, and I didn’t jump all over the place too much.
Masterlist
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“Please, reconsider,” Legolas pleaded with you. “What if the binding magic activates, again? If we are separated, you will be defenseless amongst the chaos.”
You chewed on your bottom lip. He had a point, but still...
Squeezing his fingers, you tried your case again. “Legolas, I understand. I truly do. But I want to help you all on the field, not hide away in the caves. In a battle like this... Every person counts.”
Thunder from the impending storm nearly overshadowed the elf’s sigh. He unlaced a hand and cupped your face, stroking the apple of you cheek with his thumb. “There is that endearing determination, again.” Pulling you forward, he laid his forehead on yours. The tenderness of the action made your heart flutter. “I will not be able to convince you, will I?”
“Not this time, no,” you breathed, a ghost of a smile adorning your face.
With a light huff, Legolas pulled away to help you secure chainmail and light armor. If he couldn’t coax you into staying safe inside the caves with the others who were unable to fight, then he would at least ensure you would have some protection. The goal would be for you to stay by him as much as possible in the upcoming battle, but both of you knew that most likely would not happen.
Just as you remembered from second movie, there was a commotion at the gate. With knitted brows, Legolas took your hand to head outside where you met with Aragorn and King Théoden. Before you stood an elven army, Haldir at the forefront looking as stoic and regal as ever. Relief and hope visibly flooded the Ranger’s body. So much so, that he pulled the elf into a hardy embrace.
Out of all the characters you knew of, the Marchwarden was the only one whose fate was up in the air. There was no mention of his death in the books. Then again, he had not led an army to Helm’s Deep. The second film added drama with his appearance and fall. But… Could that change?
This version of the world seemed to meld the two forms of media together. You had been able to meet Tom Bombadil and his wife Goldberry after leaving the Shire which definitely hadn’t happened in the movies. And then there was the time when Frodo had to be rushed to Rivendell after being stabbed with a Morgul blade. That played out like the film with Arwen cradling his weakened form and speeding away on her horse. You had only caught a glimpse of Glorfindel after meeting Elrond. So maybe… Just maybe…
It wasn’t long after Aragorn released Haldir from the awkward hug that orders to get into position were sent out. Squeezing your hand, Legolas motioned for you to join him with Gimli at the higher parapet where you all could use arrows until the enemy tried to clamber up the walls. Lightning cracked the sky as you reached your station, the accompanying thunder booming off the stone. Your elf had placed you in between Gimli and him. Despite the dwarf not knowing of the magic that tethered you, he cared for you like family. It was almost like you had your own bodyguards.
Checking your bow one last time, you noticed Gimli struggling to see over the wall.
“What’s happening out there?”
“Shall I describe it to you?” Legolas turned his head towards the dwarf who met his gaze with a hum and arched brow. “Or would you like me to find you a box?”
And there was that lopsided smirk that partly caused Gimli’s boisterous laugh. It wasn’t often you saw that kind of smile sneak its way onto Legolas’ face. You bit back a chortle just as the rain plummeted down on the battlefield.
Then the chaos began. An arrow was loosed early into the throng of Uruk-hai and orcs, sending them into a frenzy. Between firing attempts and dodging projectiles, you didn’t notice the ladders hitting the walls.
A sweaty, snarling orc head popped over the edge next to you. It was close enough to smell its rancid, putrid breath. Swallowing your shriek, you took the arrow you were about to notch and shoved it into the creature’s throat. A gurgled screech tore from its mouth as it feel backwards off the ladder. What moment of triumph you had was short lived as a new round of orcs quickly followed. You opted for your sword instead, strapping your bow on your back for later.
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You weren’t sure when you ended up on the ground level. It was all a blur. You were fairly sure you had fallen from the stairs at some point, probably in the middle of defending yourself. You at least remembered laying the mud and scrambling to reach your feet to dodge the next blow before lodging your sword in the orc’s side. Another orc rushed towards you, leaving no time to gather your bearings or look for your companions. After barely managing to take down that opponent, an explosion rumbled from the other side of the keep.
Aragorn.
Adrenaline coursed through you, blood pounding in your ears, as you sprinted off in that direction. By the time you reached him, the ranger was mostly back on his feet. You had only been able to make sure he regained his balance just as an Uruk-hai bulldozed its way to you from the newly breached wall. Jumping away from each other to miss its crudely forged blade, Aragorn and you then lunged forward with your swords, the steel penetrating the thick flesh not hidden away by armor. The Uruk-hai fell into muddy water, its black blood nearly indistinguishable from the muck.
Now focused on containing the breach, a handful of soldiers joined you and the ranger. A mess of Uruk-hai and orc were pouring through the opening. It wasn’t going to be enough. Aragorn called for everyone to start falling back. Just as you were headed off, a flash of red caught your eye. Your breath caught in your throat. Haldir was still on the upper level, making sure his soldiers were able to escape, and he was being surrounded rapidly.
Ripping the bow from your back, you shot at some of the orcs rushing up the stairs. You at least nailed a few of them. Your throat constricted lightly as you fired, either from your exhaustion or the magic warning you about interfering again. You weren’t quite sure at this point. Then, Haldir was hit, his entire world thrown off kilter. He spun wildly to defend himself from the onslaught. An Uruk-hai was readying his blade for the Marchwarden.
Magic be damned. You couldn’t just stand there and watch. Not again.
Sucking in a breath, you closed your eyes and raised your bow. Your chest tingled as you pointed in what you thought was the general direction. Flinging your eyes open, you made a last second adjustment to your aim. Just a touch to the left…
You were able to let go of the arrow just enough to let it fly from your fingers when your lungs froze and muscles locked you in place, leaving you unable to do anything but watch the following events. Your arrow hit the Uruk-hai’s bicep - non-fatal, but enough to cause it to falter. It also recalled Haldir’s focus, enabling him to dispose of his attacker.
He turned to find his savior, his eyes widening upon seeing you. At first you thought he was just surprised, but then you noticed movement in your peripheral. The binding magic still had you rooted to the spot and had ramped up. Your breathing was thin and ragged, vision blurring at the edges. You couldn’t even adjust your gaze to see what was approaching you at such a speedy gait.
An arrow whizzed past your face. A squelch sounded as it pierced the flesh of your supposed attacker. As the orc dropped to its knees, the spell chaining you down released. Gasping and choking on a torrent of oxygen, your burning muscles loosened and you fell back on the tower behind you.
Your head was pounding, muffling out the sounds of the battle still taking place. Warm hands encased your face and lifted your gaze. Panicked blue eyes bore into yours.
Legolas breathed your name. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” you hoarsely replied while nodding, your throat feeling like coarse sandpaper.
The sound of more Uruk-hai and orcs stole your attentions. Legolas let go of your face and snatched up your hand instead, pulling you along with him. The Marchwarden had made it down the stairs and joined you in the retreat. With the three of you, you were able to brute force your way to the inside of the keep.
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Cheers and laughs echoed through the Golden hall. The Battle of Helm’s Deep was over. Saruman had been defeated, locked away in his tower with his lackey Wormtongue. Merry and Pippin were safely back with the company, celebrating the victory with the rest of Rohan. You, however, had chosen to go outside near the beginning of the festivities. There had barely been a moment’s rest between everything. All you really wanted was to decompress.
The cool breeze caressed your skin as you breathed in the clean air, your lips tugged lightly into a smile. You had done it. You had managed to bypass the stupid binding magic that kept you from changing anything. Albeit barely and your muscles still ached from how tightly the curse had wound them, but you still did it.
Leaning on the railing, you looked up at trillions of stars in the night sky. This world was truly beautiful. You could get used to living here if you were never to return to your own. Maybe by then, the curse would ease or end completely.
“Meleth?”
You swung around, facing Legolas who had been standing almost directly behind you.
“Legolas!” you gasped, before sniggering. “You always manage to sneak up on me!”
The elf laughed along with you and joined you at the railing, resting his hand on yours. “Are you well?”
“Never better.” You rested your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way.”
He hummed questioningly while nuzzling your hair.
“Back at the keep. You were right about the binding magic. It did almost get me killed. If it weren’t for you, I may not be here right now.”
Tiny tears began to sting your eyes. This was just as real as your world and you could die just as easily. Legolas and the others had been vital in keeping you breathing. And you just had to try. It was only a fraction of a second that stood between life and death for both Haldir and you. It could have all gone wrong within moments.
Lacing his fingers with yours, he spoke softly, “I will admit, I was terrified when you disappeared. Even Gimli was unable to say what happened. I managed to find you when the air changed again. Seeing you frozen with that orc so close… My heart nearly stopped.” His voice nearly broke at the end.
“I-”
“Just promise me,” he stopped you, turning to where you were facing each other. “Promise me, you will be more careful.”
Gingerly cupping your face with his free hand, his thumb stoked your cheek.
You nodded, “I promise.”
Legolas then kissed your forehead. “Now, you did save the Marchwarden’s life, did you not?” He pulled back, tugging you with him to head inside. “That is added cause for celebration.”
“I guess it is,” you laughed and allowed him to bring you back to the party.
Tag List: @thisbreakableheaven​ @beakami​
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certifiedskywalker · 4 years
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Under the Stars - Legolas
While traversing Middle Earth, on a quest to deliver the One Ring to Mount Doom, you and the Fellowship try to move stealthily. Some are better at sneaking around than others. For instance, you seem to struggle in masking your feelings for a certain Elf. The rest of the Fellowship can so easily see the affection you hold for Legolas while you believe you’re being quite slick. Turns out, you’re the only one that was fooled.
AN: This is purely a selfish writing endeavor. I’ve been stressed and watching the LOTR and Hobbit movies to relax...I forgot how much I love Elves….Human!Reader X Legolas...
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“I’m sick of smelling of grass and grime!” Merry announced. As he spoke, he dropped his cloak on a patch of nearby dirt beside the fire Boromir had begun to build. Silently, you hoped for Aragorn and Legolas to return with supper soon. Once the Hobbits’ stomachs were full, they would quiet.
Legolas had described them as ‘children’ to you one evening: once fed, quick to bed. It had been one of those first nights, back when you were too nervous, too giddy, to sleep. You would stay up with Legolas as he took watch. Despite what Gimli had told you about Elves, you found Legolas to be good company during those restless nights, a great comfort even. He would tell you stories from the centuries he had lived through and you would listen, hang off every word. When you finally did fall asleep, rare as it was those first days, it was because you felt safe with Legolas by your side.
If you dwelled too long on the memory, your face would warm with longing. How simple it had been before your heart began to complicate matters. Luckily, the Hobbits, hungry and noisy as ever, pulled you from your thoughts.  
“We’re all sick,” Sam sighed as he took a seat next to haggard Frodo. “But we’ll be back at the Shire soon. Drinking and eating Rosie’s lovely supper roast.”
Boromir scoffed and shook his head at the Hobbit’s squabbling. “We have many more weeks of travel yet. Do not kid yourselves.”
Pippin frowned and plopped down beside a freshly disappointed Merry. This was the first time any of them had been away from the Shire, from their home; especially for so long. Due to that new homesickness, Boromir’s true words hit hard for the Hobbits. You gave them a sad smile before looking to Boromir. You bumped your shoulder against his to get his attention. 
“Take it easy on them,” you said softly. “They’re not like us, not ready to leave home to save it at a moments notice.” 
“They’re not fighters, you mean,” he countered as he struck the flint and steel. Sparks shot out from the metal and stone. After another strike, small flames began to burn. With a sigh, Boromir set his tools aside and sat back.
“You could change that, you know.” Boromir stole a glance at you, an eyebrow raised at your words. “You could teach them to fight, to defend. It would make things easier.”
“Easier?” 
There was an edge to the man’s voice that caught you off guard. It was the same tone his father had used with you and Faramir when the pair of you tried to get Boromir to ditch his ‘steward prince’ duties as children. You cringed that familiar cruelty. Boromir was annoyed and you, already tired from the days travels, were not equipped to handle his irritability. You started to stand, brushing the dirt off of your trousers. 
“Easier?!”
“It was just a suggestion, Boromir,” you explained, already starting to turn your back to the man. As you started to take steps into the forest, to find Aragorn and Legolas, Boromir let out a hearty laugh. 
“It would be easier if you did not fawn over our dear Elf companion as well, but you seem to be falling just the same.”
You stopped dead in your tracks and felt your skin, every inch of it, warm with embarrassment. Slowly, you turned to meet Boromir’s bright eyes and knowing smirk. His expression resembled his younger self, the boy that affectionately tease you as you trained with Faramir. Growing up in Gondor with Boromir had toughened your hide to his ribbing; but this struck a chord. This was not the good-natured jokes you were used to. 
Despite the truth in his teasing, Boromir’s tone was changed, twisted into something kissed by darkness.
“I know nothing of which you speak,” you replied through slightly gritted teeth. You had gone so long without anyone seemingly noting your admiration of Legolas that you were clambering for a defense.
“Oh deary me,” Gimli, groaned. You looked over at the Dwarf and saw his saddened eyes. Behind him, the Hobbits watched, wide-eyed, as you seemed to seethe. 
“Everyone here sees it,” Boromir continued, “except for possibly the Elf and yourself. Blind to your own feelings and you talk of making things easier.”
Your heart leapt in your chest. For a moment, your thoughts are clouded by Legolas. 
His blonde hair, flicking with the wind as you walked towards destiny, towards Mount Doom. Those first nights spent chatting about adventure. His eyes, soft as he explained to you the significance of his braids and recounted the sternness of his kingly father. For the past few days, when he wasn’t scouting ahead, he was walking by your side, letting his hand brush ever-so slightly. In those moments, you tried your hardest to keep calm, stay steady while Legolas seemed wholly unfazed by the incidental touches. 
If anything it was the Elven prince who was blind, oblivious to how his mere presence was driving you mad with want. No, Boromir was wrong. You were not blind to your feelings, you were just ignoring them. Or, at least, trying to ignore them. After all, how could an Elf like Legolas, beautiful and immortal, want you?
“You are mistaken, Boromir,” you snap coldly. “I have no...inclination towards the Elf. Perhaps it is you, who is blind.”
Boromir shook his head and sighed. “You are grasping at thin air, Y/N. Even from the low spots at which they stand, the Hobbits can see your fonding eyes towards the archer.”
“Hey!” Merry stood in a flash, “we see lots of things.”
“So you agree with him?” You asked, turning to the four halflings perched beside the fire. Frodo was stunned in silence, as was Sam who had even stopped nibbling at his lembas. You imagined such human drama rarely reared its head in the Shire. Merry and Pippin, however, used to causing chaos, nodded. 
“I mean, it’s the truth. Is it not?” Pippin asked, a hopeful half-smile on his lips. Despite his kind expression, you felt a bolt of hot anger in your heart. 
“Not!”
“Aye, the man is right,” Gimli stood before you. Stout and strong, he looked up at you with true Dwarven candor. “Everybody sees how you look at ‘im. I don’t begin to understand it, the pointy ears and all, but-”
“Neither do I.”
The words left your lips edged with a saddening truth you were not expecting. You didn’t understand how you could fall for someone so hard, so swiftly. Let alone someone who was an Elf, an entire world away from yours. The thought brought stinging tears to your eyes. To hide them, you turned your back to the camp and started to walk into the surrounding forest. 
As you left, you heard Frodo finally speak up. 
“It feels that we have just begun and we are already crumbling.”
For a moment, you’re tempted to stay. Whatever feelings you had for Legolas, they were not worth tarnishing the Fellowship. But the thought of facing Boromir, the others, after they so plainly set your heart’s affection on display made you feel ill. So, you kept walking.
You walked until you found a clearing lined with grand, old trees. They towered but their branches did not dare to obscure the stars that shone down. Moonlight gleamed along the green blades of grass in the center of the clearing. The glow was soft, inviting, and you felt drawn to it.
When you moved to stand in the light, you found yourself looking up. Away from the fire light and pyres of Minas Tirith, the stars shone with abandon. Never before had you seen anything as breathtaking. Though, that wasn’t quite true.  
You had seen Legolas in the heat of battle: graceful and deadly, slinging arrows with startling accuracy. From the first moment you saw him at the Council of Elrond, you knew there was a fire beneath his skin and you felt honored to see it burn in battle. You had seen his gentleness too as he studied particular flowers along the trail. As you walked with the Fellowship, you would steal sneaky glances at the Elf when he wasn’t at your side.
Apparently, your awe and stolen looks had not gone unnoticed. You winced as you thought back to the camp, to Boromir’s borderline cruelty. He had seemed different ever since you left Rivendell, ever since he learned of the Ring. Could a little band of gold, a promise of power, change a man so quickly?
You pushed the thought from your mind and tried to focus solely on the stars. In the silence, there was a brief peace. Worries slipped away, melted under the light of the Moon. The next day would come and bring fear with it. For this moment, you closed your eyes to better savor the quiet and its strange joy.
“Stars never seem to shine as brightly outside Mirkwood.”
Your eyes opened wide at the sound of Legolas’ voice. When you craned your neck and saw the Elf standing at the edge of the tree line, your breath caught. In the starlight, he looked all the more fair and handsome. His eyes, darker in the limited light, met yours and he dipped his head.
“I did not mean to frighten you,” he raised his open palms and approached you. 
“No, you didn’t, I...I wasn’t expecting you.” You tore your attention away from him and looked back to the sky. It took all you had to keep your breathing steady as Legolas moved to stand at your side. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his strong shoulders, his chest, so close. Why must he stand so near?
“You were expecting someone else then?”
“I-I,” you looked back to him and saw that he was looking at the stars. Though your floundering reaction to his question did not go unnoticed. The slightest of smiles played on his pale lips. “No. No one.”
You moved your eyes back to the stars in the hopes of recovering some of your dignity. A sudden fear flooded your senses. Had he returned to camp with Aragorn? What had the others told him? You thought back to Boromir’s attitude and tensed. Before you could ask after anything, Legolas spoke up.
“Tonight, they remind me of home.”
You swallow hard before you dared to look his way. “What do you mean?”
“The stars,” he whispered, turning his gaze to yours. There was a gentleness in his features that made your chest warm. “And the company.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. “I fear I don’t understand.”
“You remind me home,” Legolas replied smoothly. You let out a forced laughed and frowned at him. Elves, by nature, were poetic but did Legolas did not see how his words could have a double meaning? He must see the pain on your face, the desperate hope his words gave you. Everyone else did, apparently.
“How could a human remind an Elf of his woodland home?”
“You are beautiful.” Legolas didn’t miss a beat with his reply.
“Legolas.” When his name fell from your lips, it was heavy and full of warning. Yet, the Elf seemed to care less as he turned his eyes back towards the sky. Silently, you cursed yourself for thinking he meant anything by the compliment. 
“When I was younger, my father would bring me to the canopy to study the constellations. He would tell me the stories that accompanied them.”
Frown still firmly planted in your expression, you commented, “that doesn’t sound like the grim man you described to me.”
“He could be bitter, but beneath the asperity there was always love.”
His words stirred up for you an image of Boromir. While you heart still stung from his teasing, you could not forget the childhood you shared with him. The boy you once played with, trained with, alongside his younger brother, was still there. Buried beneath the hardened, stubborn man, but he was there all the same. There was hope for him yet.
“Love endures,” you added softly. The chilled night air gave your breath the form of a small cloud. Instinctively, you pulled at your cloak and fastened it a bit tighter around your shoulders.
“It endures all of Time and wild weather,” Legolas agreed. His eyes found yours once more and, with a look of concern, he leaned close to you. “Are you cold?”
“No, I’m not, I…”
You trailed off, unable to think clearly with Legolas so near and looking at you like that. His eyes were kind, framed by the long, fine strands of his blond hair. With his dark brows furrowed together with worry, he looked older despite the Elven gift of eternal youth. How tempted you were to reach out and pull his lips to yours. Your fingers twitched and itched to do so, but you forced your hands to stay still. Bitterly, you imagined that those in the Fellowship would smirk at you if they could see how you were acting.
“Y/N, you sh-”
“Did they tell you?”
Legolas cocked his head to the side like a confused hound. “Tell me what?”
“The Fellowship did they...I am tired of being played for a fool,” you pressed. “I have been parading about as if I have masked my every feeling yet I could be read as plainly as any tome. I refuse to believe you, with your Elven sight, could not see what mere men and Hobbits have.”
At you plea, Legolas’ straightened his posture. While he leaned towards you no longer, his eyes remained soft and as watchful as they ever were. You took in his furrowed brows and slight frown before pressing a hand to your forehead with shame. In an attempt to calm yourself, you hung your heavy head and took a deep breath.
“I, I am sorry, Legolas. I think it’s time I had some rest.”
With your hand hiding a portion of your downturned face, you did not see him move closer to you until you saw the toes of his boots before your own. Still embarrassed because of your outburst, you did not dare to move. Only when you felt slender, warm fingers wrap around your wrist did you allow your hand to fall away. When you lifted your head, you were met with Legolas’ eyes focused solely on you.
“Do not apologize, you are right. They did not tell me; they do not need to. I have seen the feelings of which you speak and I am sorry that I have been so quiet.”
A breath was hard for you to find, but when you did you used it to ask the question balanced on the tip of your tongue. “What do you mean?”
“I mean to say there are many differences between your world and mine. I should have made my feelings more clear.”
Legolas’ grip on your wrist loosened slightly and you thought he was going to let go. Your stomach dropped with the dread of an affection gone unrequited. Then, just as you felt true doom, Legolas joined his hand with yours. Your gaze fell to watch how his fingers entangled with yours. Nervous, you looked back to Legolas and found there was a tender smile playing on his lips. 
“At night I do not sleep but with these long evenings, with you slumbering so near, I have wished to. I have lived through many centuries and never once wanted to sleep. Never once did I see a beauty and longed to hold it dear until I met you.”
“Legolas,” you whispered, breathlessly, “I now truly feel like a fool.”
He lifted his free hand, the one not holding yours, to your face. Light as feathers, Legolas’ fingertips traced along your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine that you did not even try to hide. There was no point now. Everything was clear for everyone to see. You did not want to hide from Legolas any longer.
“Perhaps we are both fools,” he said softly. This close to Legolas, even in the dim light of the stars, you could see the depth of blue in his eyes. The itch in your fingers returned as the smell of him flooded your senses: beech bark and pine. Before you could even think of holding back, your hand reached up and pulled his lips to yours.
Legolas was quick to respond. Both his hands moved to cup the sides of your face and he moved his lips eagerly along yours. Your hands gripped his armor, holding him close. Every feeling you had held in poured out into the kiss. Each stolen glance and longing stare finally coming to a head. Still clinging to him desperately, you pulled away from Legolas to catch your breath.
Slightly winded, you rested your forehead against his, sharing the air between you. Relieved of your worries, you felt a surge of bravery overtake you. Laughing lightly, you pulled away to meet Legolas’ gaze. 
“I wonder if the Fellowship saw that coming.”
Legolas smiled at your joking, the widest smile you had seen from the Elf since meeting him. With his hands still holding your face, he brought you in for another kiss; less needy than the last but all the more passionate. Warmth surrounded you both but you hungered for more. Just as you were about to pull on Legolas’ armor, you heard someone clear their throat.
Immediately, you and Legolas pulled away from each other. You both looked over to see Aragorn, smiling smugly at the two of you as he walked out from the shadows created by the looming trees. A new sort of embarrassment rushed through you as the Ranger took in the sight of you and the Elf. You could only imagine what you both looked like with lips kiss swollen, chests heaving, and all wild eyed. 
“I can not speak for the rest, but I saw this coming.” 
You snuck a glance at Legolas and saw his pale cheeks had pinkened. Never before had you seem him flustered and you felt overwhelmed with pride that you had played a part in it. The starlight made the Elf’s features all the more pleasing. You wanted to kiss him again but, before you could reach for Legolas, Aragorn spoke up again.
“Come now, you’ve worried the party with your extended absence. And the Hobbit’s have supper ready.” As he turned to walk back, he added, “there will be time for that when our journey comes to an end.”
You and Legolas start after the promised king. Not before sharing a look that told the other that neither of you would be willing to wait that long. For so long you had both waited, danced in silence around the other. Now, there was no holding back.
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amxranthiine · 3 years
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c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii
cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her 
 A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙  Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!
Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way.  After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly.  Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.
He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be.  Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out.  Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently.  “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good.  “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss.  I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins.  Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known.  As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair.  The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking.  “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger.  The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies.  “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair...  He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation.  Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door.  In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling.  After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable.  It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants.  I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts.  “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories!  Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked.  “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude,  “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)
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Legolas x elven reader
Summary: At long last you have finally admitted your innermost feelings for the Woodland Prince to your dear friend Aragorn, at the same time he has learned of the feelings Legolas has kept for you. Now you and Legolas have a chance to express how you both truly feel for one another.
Part 1 is here
-Requested by @sokkasdarling​
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Gandalf had called for everyone to continue onward, just as a tiny rock rickashayed off the side of your head, you snapped your attention down to the right. Where Pippin stood, looking down and desperately trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. You heard a deep and hearty laugh from farther on the rocks, raising your sights in that direction you found Aragorn doing a terrible job at holding in his amusement. You raised an eyebrow to him as you caught the sight of a smiling Legolas, “Yes hilarious.” You deadpanned with a roll of your elfish eyes, in good humor of course. You turned to Pippin who was quickly finding his courage again as he confidently looked upon your annoyed face. You flashed him a friendly smile before silently clenching your fist and shaking it at him in a mock bit of anger. He just stuck his tongue out at you before skipping over to Merry and Sam like the little bastard he is. 
The ten of you had made your way down the other side of the rocky hill without much indecent to be concerned of, past a small stream for a water break, near to a small herd of deer, and now you all travel through open grass fields with the occasional large bush as you pass by. During all this time it had occurred to you in your keen observations that the silver haired prince seemed more jubilant then usual. He appeared to hold himself with a confident and tireless stride as he walked ahead of you and half of the Fellowship.
 His blue eyes would linger on you when everyone took that five minute break at the stream, and since his talk with Aragorn earlier his whole being seemed to change ever so slightly. You could not place why, could he know something you don’t? Did Aragorn tell him about your feelings for him? Now since you’ve pondered over the idea it does seem very plausible considering they both spoke together not even three hours ago. If only you hadn’t been distracted by those pesky hobbits would you have been able to listen in on their conversation. 
Letting out an unbothered huff of air you keep moving through the grass as Merry and Pippin trail behind you, then Boromir, Sam leading Bill the pony, and finally at the rear Aragorn. You can tell how exhausted the hobbits are becoming since most of the day was trudging uphill for hours on end, if you were human you’d without a doubt be just as tired. Luckily you are not, and this whole day has been mostly a breeze, with the exception that you have great suspicions about Legolas and what Aragorn had told him. 
Alas the sun begins its slow decent upon the wilds of the land, alerting Gandalf to pick a place among the grass and bushes before the hastily approaching night swallows you whole. Soon a fire is made and food is divided around for everyone to have a share, you stare up at the stars as Gimli tells an elaborate story about the first time that he killed an orc. You sit comfortably on a bedroll in between Frodo and Pippin who are listening intently with wide eyes. Across the fire sits Legolas, who shares a knowing look with you as everyone listens to Gimli who’s most certainly exaggerating his story. 
Legolas gives you a fond smile and for the first time do you both stop to share a comfortable moment together. It feels like the world has evaded you and no sounds are to be heard, all your focus and means of care are on the prince who stares back at you with those big beautiful eyes of his. It’s truly entrancing until Gimli breaks your moment, “Ey lass, a good orc is a dead one huh.” You suddenly turn to him, caught of guard by his random question that you only heard the last part to.
“Oh uh, yes. Same goes for goblins or trolls.” You first turn to Pippin then Frodo, “Very valuable information.”
Gimli lets out a laugh of approval at your quick wit as he dives back into the story once again. Though you are surrounded by friends and safety for the time being, your heart cannot stop from fluttering with nervousness even now, Legolas is doing things to you and he doesn’t even know it. After what felt like hours of story telling does the Fellowship settle down for the night. The fire dissipates to low burning embers as your companions place themselves around it.
 You cannot catch sleep if you tried so instead do you take the first nights watch, covering Frodo and Pippin with your extra blanket do you stand up to walk a bit away from your sleeping friends. The night sky is decorated with thousands of glimmering stars as a crescent moon stares down back at you with a pleasing smile. A comforting gentle breeze brushes past your face, sending your cloak in rhythmic flaps against your body. You close your eyes and listen to the sounds of the grass as it sways in the wind, your friends soft breathing, the flick of Bills tail, and the familiar sound of Legolas’ light footsteps in the grass. 
A smile forms onto your lips as he slowly approaches you, “Come to join me on watch?” You ask, opening your eyes once again to find the woodland prince to your left, he turns to you with a warm smile upon his dashing features.
“I thought you would enjoy the company.”
“You know me well then.”
The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, the both of you trying to search for the next words to say, you’re not entirely sure how to start with what you want you really want to say to him. Your anxieties suddenly brushed away as Legolas goes to speak first, “Uh...Y/N I.......Aragorn had told me something..”
“Huh, now what secrets would that ranger have to share?”
“Actually it was yours.” He looks at you with a worried face, afraid that he had started off wrong, your heart speeds up as you avoid eye contact with him but only for a moment before your eyes are searching for his once again.
“Oh...I wouldn’t have any idea as to what he might have told you.” Is all that you can mutter, he brings his sight up from the ground to study your stunned face, he suddenly breaks out into the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.
“I feel like you do.” Says Legolas softly, at this your nerves prick in anticipation and excitement, nothing on his face indicates anything false.
“What would that be then?” You ask in a hushed voice as you stare longingly into his beaming eyes.
 “I did not realize how your heart leapt as mine does when I look upon your face. No elleth has so unknowingly taken the very stars out of the sky in the way that you have Y/N....I would like it very much if you would have me, for the rest of our days in this world, and beyond those into the lands of eternal summer.” 
Your breath catches in your throat as a lump forms and a tightness grows in your chest, keeping you from saying anything comprehensible. You definitely had not anticipated Legolas to straight up confess his undying love to you in one night. But as your kind is known for, once two fall in love, they fall with all of their heart and soul in a way that no human, dwarf, or hobbit could ever understand. Your eyes soften as unexpected tears well up in the corners of your eyes. You’re not usually so moved by words, but in all the centuries in middle earth not once has anyone said something so wholeheartedly kind to you like this.
“I do not know if we shall even survive through our quest.” You reply in a whisper, he looks towards the ground at your feet, a heartbroken expression crossing onto his shadowed face as he begins to doubt Aragorn’s confession of yours, “If I am to spend however long I have left, I would want no other then you, Legolas.” He pulls his attention back up to you in an instant, his heart swelling with happiness and relief as you continue, “You have taken my heart and I never want it back.” You finally confess as you reach out your hands to touch his own, he looks deeply into your eyes while he interlocks his hands with yours.
“Then I will keep it safe forever, just as you’ve asked...if you will do the same for me?”
“No one will ever find it.”
He smiles at that, letting out the softest of laughs that’s pure music to your own pointed ears within the quiet of the night. Your own lips break into a beaming smile, a surge of absolute joy and adoration seeping throughout your entire vessel. He settles down once again, its just you and him in this giant world of chaos and calm, his eyes are so bright and he feels like a dream.
 Then just like that the two of you are leaning in without a care in the world, his lips are soft and inviting as his hands break from your grasp to snake around your waist. Pulling you in closer, so as you melt into one, he is gentle and delicate as he moves his hand to caress the side of your face. When you both can’t take the lack of breath anymore do you begrudgingly pull away, your faces flushed and beaming with pure bliss and love. 
“I think I would like to do that with you everyday for as long as we may live, meleth nin.”
“As do I my prince.” 
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chaoticevilbean · 3 years
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Lord of the Rings Rewrite
Based off the movies, extended edition, and Pippin has magic
Merry hits me through the tent, and I quickly duck under the material.
"Quickly!" Merry boosts me into the cart and I quickly sort through the fireworks. I hold up a medium green rocket, but Merry quickly shuts the idea down.
"No, no! The big one, big one!" he exclaims, looking this way, and that so we won't get caught. My head aches slightly as I hold up a big red rocket, shaped like a dragon's head. I'm about to put it down, when I see Merry's face. He wants this one, so I push aside the ache and jump out of the cart and into the tent. Merry and I set the rocket up, but I'm distracted as my ache returns at double the pain. I try to ignore it and light the fuse.
"Done," I say, pushing the rocket up. It falls onto Merry's chest.
"You're supposed to stick it in the ground!" Merry tells me, panicking as he pushes it back towards me.
"It is in the ground!" I respond, his panic infecting me. My head hurts worse, and I try to figure out the problem. I push it back.
"Outside!" Merry practically yells, pushing it back once again. The pain dulls. Oh. That was the problem. This is bad.
"It was your idea," I remind him. He does all the thinking for me.
Suddenly the firework goes off, pushing us away and blackening our faces. It takes some of the tent with it as it flies high above the party, forming a great big dragon of sparks. Everyone looks on in awe, but my head is telling me there's something wrong. I understand as the dragon turns back towards everyone, flies low to the ground and almost hits everyone before flying off once again and bursting into beautiful fireworks.
"That was good," Merry tells me. I agree, but I wanna say that we should leave now.
"Let's get another one," my voice says without my consent. I internally groan at my automatic idiocracy. I turn to run off, knowing that Merry will listen to my stupidity, when someone grabs my ear. I hear Merry exclaim as well, so at least we were both caught.
"Meriadoc Brandybuck," a familiar voice says, "and Peregrin Took. I might have known." Me and Merry look to see Gandalf. Fear threatens to choke me, but I try to hide it. Hopefully they'll pass it off for the punishment that's sure to come.
The punishment does come, in the form of washing all the dishes from the party. Which, considering the entire Shire came, is a lot of plates and silverware and cups and bowls.
Late into the night, the crowd begins to call out for Bilbo to give a speech. He complies, standing on a barrel to be seen by all.
"My dear Bagginses and Boffins," the mentioned cheer loudly, "Tooks and Brandybucks," Merry and I join in with our families, "Grubbs, Tubbs, Hornblowers," cheers from each as they're mentioned, "Bulgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots." I hear someone call out "PROUDFEET!" followed by laughing from those around him.
"Today is my One Hundred and Eleventh birthday!"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" choruses the crowd. Bilbo continues.
"Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. (cheers?) I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve." I think about this. So he doesn't know half of us as much as he'd like, and he likes less than half of us, and only half as much as we deserve. I see Gandalf smirk, and find a small mimicry move its way up my face. But I stop when I realize that no other Hobbits besides me understood. I'm supposed to be an idiot, so I adopt the same confused look as Merry.
"I, er, I have things to do." As the old Hobbit speaks, he reaches into one of his pockets. I notice a faint feeling of darkness as he takes something out of his pocket and holds it behind his back. The object glints the moment before it's hidden. "I've put this off for far too long. I regret to announce this is the End. I'm going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell. Goodbye." Bilbo smiles fondly at Frodo, while everyone looks curiously on. Then, quite suddenly, every Hobbit gasps. Every Hobbit but me. Bilbo seems awfully pleased with something he did and hops off the barrel and heads past everything towards his house. I see Gandalf take his pipe out of his mouth and scowl. I look at Merry, but he's just as stunned as all the others.
"What happened, Merry?" I ask. My friend looks at me, eyes wide.
"I don't know, Pippin. I don't know," he mutters. I furrow my brow as I try to think of what happened. Obviously, I was the only one not affected, and judging by what was going on, no one saw Bilbo head home. I watch the chaos and notice Gandalf heading after Bilbo, walking briskly, but somehow as unnoticed as the Hobbit himself.
"Come on!" Merry calls, and I turn to find him running off.
"Wait up," I call back, rushing after my friend.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
We found ourselves in the Green Dragon not that many days after Bilbo left. Apparently, he headed to live with the Elves. After many mugs of ale, Merry and I found ourselves on a table, singing and dancing away.
"Hey ho, to the bottle I go!
To heal my heart and drown my woe.
Rain may fall and wind may blow,
But there still be
many miles to go!
Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain,
and the stream that falls from hill to plain.
Better than rain or rippling brook-"
"Is a mug of beer inside this Took!"
I take over on the last line of the song, raising my half-pint in salute before taking a drink. Everyone around me cheers. It feels good to know that people think I'm good at something, even if it's not that great of a talent.
We walk out later that night, saying goodbye to Rosie on the way. We chuckle at the thought of what Sam would look like if he saw that. She's no more than a friend to us, but Sam's got the biggest fancy for her than anyone else I've seen.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I can hear singing, like something from another world. I turn and see wood elves passing by. Some are riding on the finest steeds I've ever seen, while most walk, carrying lanterns and wearing pure, glowing robes. I hear talking amidst the singing, and look in the direction it comes from. Just as I see two small forms gazing at the procession, I fall into darkness.
"Smoke rises from the Mountain of Doom. The hour grows late and Gandalf the Grey rides to Isengard seeking my Council. For that is why you have come, is it not? My old friend." A wizard with long grey-white hair and beard and an all-white robe walks down the steps of a huge black tower. Gandalf walks over as he speaks and bows.
"Saruman," Gandalf says. So that is the wizard's name, though what a name it is. I feel the fear within me tremble. Unlike with Gandalf, this fear is real, instinctual, not from years of experience but from something primal, something dark.
I feel a shift, and then Saruman and Gandalf are walking near the tower.
"So the Ring of Power has been found," Saruman states. I shiver at the feeling that comes when he says this. But then I think. Ring of Power? I've heard stories, but nothing concrete.
"All these long years it was in The Shire under my very nose," Gandalf tells his fellow. I want to scream at Gandalf to not tell him, that this wizard is nothing good, but I know that it will be no use.
"And yet you did not have the wits to see it. Your love of the Halflings leaf has clearly slowed your mind." I frown. Many of my best ideas come from Old Toby.
"But we still have time. Time enough to counter Sauron if we act quickly," Gandalf hurriedly says. Sauron. The name sends more shivers down my spine.
"Time! What time do you think we have?" Saruman exclaims, a hint of anger in his voice. Another shift comes, and suddenly I'm inside the tower. I can feel the evil in it, thrumming, but not like the feeling in your chest when you hum. The sound of a war drum, or the noise right before some big monster roars and devours you whole.
"Sauron has regained much of his former strength." I turn and see Saruman and Gandalf still speaking.
"He cannot yet take physical form but his spirit has lost none of its potency. Concealed within his fortress, the Lord of Mordor sees all. His gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth and flesh. You know of what I speak Gandalf. A great eye, lidless, wreathed in flame." My head begins to ache. The evil in here is so powerful, and the words, and Saruman, and the very tower echo with darkness.
"The Eye of Sauron." Gandalf seems to not feel the darkness surrounding him. Could he be a part of it? NO! I can feel his energy, bright and filled with goodness. I move closer until I'm standing right beside him, using his light as an anchor in this pitch black place. My fear becomes my safety.
"He is gathering all evil to him. Very soon he will have summoned an army great enough to launch an assault upon Middle Earth," Saruman continues, not sounding concerned about the Dark Lord of Mordor trying to kill everything in Middle Earth.
"You know this? How?" Gandalf questions.
"I have seen it," the dark wizard dressed in white answers. The two walk into a different room and I follow. A pedestal stands in the middle of the room, a black cloth covering what sits upon it. I feel pulled towards it, but my will to stay near Gandalf is greater.
"A palantir is a dangerous tool, Saruman."
"Why? Why should we fear to use it?" Saruman pulls the cloth off, revealing a globe, a sphere of black, cloudy glass.
"They are not all accounted for. The lost seeing stones. We do not know who else may be watching." Gandalf moves forward, covering the palantir back up. As he does, I sense a darkness flash through the stone. He must feel it as well, for the Grey Wizard pauses, his face one of realization.
"The hour is later than you think. Sauron's forces are already moving. The Nine have left Minas Morgul." Saruman sits back on his throne.
"The Nine!"
"They crossed the River Isen on Midsummer's Eve disguised as riders in black."
"They've reached The Shire?" The Shire? My head pounds now. I know, I know! That's home! That's where Merry, and Frodo, and Rosie, and Sam, and Mother and Father, and my sisters, and everyone!
"They will find the Ring and kill the one who carries it."
"Frodo." FRODO‽ SERIOUSLY, GANDALF‽ Of all the Hobbits in Hobbiton, it had to be one of my best friends! And then Gandalf the... the Fool goes and says his name! Every thought rushes in one way and out another as I stare between Gandalf and his traitorous kin.
"You did not seriously think that a hobbit could contend with the will of Sauron? There are none who can. Against the power of Mordor there can be no victory. We must join with him Gandalf. We must join with Sauron. It would be wise my friend." I make a slight grunt at the friend part. You'd have to be a fool or evil to be friends with someone this dark. And Gandalf isn't evil.
"Tell me. Friend... When did Saruman the Wise abandon reason for madness?" I internally cheer at the insult, but all possible celebration is wiped from me as Saruman throws the firework-making wizard across the room. As the two begin to fight, throwing each other everywhere, my vision fades.
"GANDALF!" I shout as it all goes black.
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