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jasmines-library · 7 months

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Poisoned heart

WHUMPTOBER DAY 7: Prompt: poisoned.

Fandom: The Hobbit

Summary: after being struck but a poisoned arrow from the Morgul bow, you suffer a fatal injury. Will you get help in time?

Warnings: Blood, Poisoned arrow, poison, sickness, pain.

Word count: 2.9K

Note: this follows the story line of Kili being shot in DoS. This can be read as platonic or romantic and can be seen as Kili x reader or Tauriel x reader, I’ve left it purposely ambiguous for you to decide.

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

“No! No!”

There was an uproar when the gates slammed shut, sending the barrels hurtling into the metal, bobbing up and down in the cold, white water. You could hear the rattling of Thorin’s hands gripping the gate and shaking it so hard that his knuckles turned white. The guard drew his sword, readying it before him only to collapse seconds later: plunging over the lip of the bridge and into the water propelled forwards by an arrow which the roaring orc had lodged deep within his back. He landed with a large splash, displacing the water around him.

“Look out!”

You watched in horror as more orcs began propelling themselves over the wall on the other side of the bridge, helpless as your little barrel bobbed along in the river. They barged through, slicing at the armoured guards. Roaring as they attacked, sending a myriad of bodies into the barrels below. Some orcs, some not.

One orc had managed to grasp onto the barrels, after launching itself into the water, leaping on top of Fili, who’s eyes widened in fear. Bilbo heaved himself up, gripping tight onto the barrel before plunging the glowing blue blade into the orc’s chest. It collapsed back into the water.

You watched, shell shocked as your friends fought the creatures ahead of you. Your barrel had just thudded into Kili’s before you. You had been one of the last ones to jump in, trailing at the back of the group. From here, unsheltered by the bridge like the rest of the huddle of dwarves, you could see the rest of the fight unfurl. You could see the orcs catapulting themselves over the walls. You could see that there would be no escape unless you got that door back open.

Honing in on the wooden lever, you clambered out of the barrel. Jumping across the others until your feet landed on the stone steps.

“Y/N?!” Kili called after you, but your response was cut short by another orc which swung at you. You delivered a firm kick to set it off balance before stabbing and twisting with your shortsword.

You hadn’t realised how many there were until you had begun to push your way up the steps. There were orcs flooding in from every direction; billowing down the hills and taking out the elves, flailing in the water, surrounding you.

You were already battling one orc, using your sword to block its attack, when another leaped at you from behind, its teeth bared and weapon lethal. Fili, who had been alerted to your stunt by his brother, flung his weapon at the orc just as you swung, decapitating the one in front of you. They both collapsed to the floor with an ugly ‘thud’.

The lever was just in front of you now. Just a few feet more and then you would be free. You rushed forwards, ducking as another orc soared onto the wall above you, but fueled by adrenaline, you took him down with one well placed jab.

The lever was steps away now, within an arm's reach. You could see the delicate lines etched within the wood. What you didn’t see however, was the scar faced orc chieftain, who had notched and released an arrow from his shiny bow. It lodged itself in your thigh, just short of your knee.

Stopping abruptly, you gasped against the sudden pain, your knee buckling beneath you.

“Y/N?!” Fili cried hoarsely, as his eyes flew open in terror.

Grunting, you leaned forwards, gripping onto the wooden lever and trying to force it down, but your fingers were clammy and your vision swam with pain. You collapsed to the ground, writhing as you clutched the wound - the arrow still embedded in your leg. Time seemed to slow as you lay there, helpless once again to the orcs that had begun to file over the stone wall once again. You forced yourself up on your shaky arms, trying to scoot yourself away from the danger. Then, there was a loud ‘thwip’ as another arrow sailed through the air. You flinched, preparing yourself for a blow that was never to come. This arrow settled itself between the shoulder blade of your offending orc.

Turning your head, your gaze settled on Tauriel emerging from the woods, weapon poised, auburn hair billowing around her. She danced forwards, notching and drawing, taking out the orcs quickly and with what seemed much ease. Other elves emerged too, drawing the orcs away from you and the gate.

Using this to your advantage, you heaved yourself back up. Jumping you wrapped your arms and legs around the heavy lever. At first, nothing happened, then it shifted and you could hear the rattling of the chains as they peeled the gates open slowly, releasing the crowd of dwarf-filled wine barrels then sending them over the edge of the waterfall. Your grip slipped again and you landed flat on your back, crying out in discomfort as the arrow shifted. Black dots danced in your eyeline.

You rolled onto your side, watching as the barrels were swept away, funnelling through the gap.

“Y/N?” Kili called out to you, watching you anxiously from below. His stomach knotted when he spotted the arrow.

Heaving your legs over the side of the wall and fighting through the wave of nausea, you gave yourself one final push. Your body plunged off of the bridge, landing in your empty barrel. You didn’t manage to contain your scream as the end of the arrow caught on the rim of the barrel, ripping upwards before snapping in half. All eyes snapped towards you, including Tauriel whom you had never seen look more concerned. You slumped against the barrel, your vision doubling and wound throbbing.

Another weak cry slipped from your lips as you were tossed about in the barrel as it went hurtling over the edge. The cold water spilled into the barrel as it twisted and turned inside the rapids. You were amazed it had managed to keep afloat. Your hand kept a futile grip on the rim as you whimpered each time your body shifted, sending agony throughout your body. Ahead of you, despite the motion of the water, Thorin stood, craning his head to try and see you within the carnage. Orcs chased after you, scrambling along trees and along the river banks. Some toppled into the water, shot down by the elves.

It seemed like an eternity before the rapids smoothed out and the little barrels were left bobbing along with the current. Thorin was using a mossy stick which he had acquired along the way to propel himself forwards. Most of the other dwarves had resorted to using their hands to wade along.

At some point, Bilbo had attached himself to your barrel. You weren’t sure when, your head was too hazy and everything had passed by in a blur, but you suspected it was when he saw you struggling to lean forwards in your little wooden raft. You were unsure how he was seemingly uninjured, despite the perilous rapids, but he tugged you along none the less. Somewhere around you Kili and Fili lingered. You had heard the brunette call out to you a few times, paling at your slumped head.

“Anything behind us?” Thorin called out to those bringing up the rear.

“Not that I can see.” Someone called back.

Thorin Oakensheild nodded, paddling towards a large rock. “Make for the shore.”

“Aye.”

There was another raucous as the rest of the group manoeuvred their makeshift boats towards the rock. They hauled each other up and out of the rafts then helped them onto the safety of the shore. You forced yourself out of the barrel, sliding into the water. It flooded into your wound. You hissed in pain, before rising to your feet then making your way as steadily as you could onto the shore.

You didn’t make it far before the stabbing agony was back, tenfold and shooting down your leg. With a grunt, you dropped to your knees, clutching the wound. You inhaled sharply, swallowing thickly the bile that had risen in your throat. There were hands on you in seconds as the two brothers dropped to your side.

“Y/N?” Kili looked at you, panicked. Fili’s hands did what his brother's mind was thinking, but his body wouldn’t allow him to do; press down firmly on the wound.

You cried out again at the pressure and the digging in of the piece of arrow that was still in your thigh. It sent another wave of nausea through you. Your mind screamed at you that something wasn’t right.

“Im fine.” You brushed him off, trying to push his hands away but to no avail, they were stuck down firmly, quickly being coaxed in your blood. “It’s nothing.”

“Kid,” Fili reprimanded, “This isn’t nothing.”

“I’m fine.” You repeated again through gritted teeth.

Kili was frozen, watching the way your face twitched every time your leg lit up with pain.

“We need to get the rest of the arrow out.”

You nodded. Squeezing Kilis hand, which had found it’s way into yours tightly. His brother dug his fingers into your leg to fish out the shards of the arrow. You gritted out a muffled cry, barely able to contain the vocalisation of your pain. Once it was free, you sagged against the dark haired man. You felt sick. You felt your stomach churn in pain, you felt the bile rise again in the back of your throat as you heaved rapidly. Something wasn't right.

“On your feet.” Thorin barked, scanning the area. He hesitated at his nephew's reply.

“Y/N is wounded. Her leg needs binding.” Fili stated.

Kili tore away part of his damp shirt, handing it to his brother who made quick work of beginning to bandage your gaping wound.

“There’s an orc pack on our tail. We need to keep moving.”

“To where?” Balin furrowed his wispy brow.

“To the mountain.” Bilbo implored. “We’re so close.”

“A lake stands between us and that mountain. We have no way to cross it.”

Bilbo thought for a moment. “So we’ll go around it.”

That was when the figure appeared.

~~~

You had gotten worse, feverish. Your legs barely functioned as you leaned up heavily against Kili. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, helping to keep you upright as they moved swiftly through-out lake town after being smuggled in by Bard.

As time moved forwards, the company had begun to notice that this was no ordinary arrow. That this was not an infection. No, your body was too hot, your skin shades too pale and devoid of all of the life it usually held. Other than favouring your left side, you were hunched awkwardly as though you had forgotten to stand. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your forehead as you head lulled against the man who was half carrying you through the streets with his brother. You were bleary eyes and too much pain. Something wasn’t right.

Despite being feverishly warm, your body wracked itself with violent shivers. You had dried your hardest to hold in your yells of discomfort, but then your legs gave way completely and you crumpled with a howl of agony and a whimper, causing the two dwarves to stumble in their tracks.

“Y/N?”

You were laid down on the ground as soon as they had found somewhere safe to do so. You didn’t respond, only whined as your whole body was consumed with raw pain. There was a pat on your cheek as your head lolled on the damp ground. Kili cursed under his breath, unwrapped the blood soaked scraps and peeled back the fabric of your trousers. His sharp intake of breath was nearly on par with your ragged wheezes.

The wound was still bleeding freely, although it had slowed slightly due to being bound. That wasn’t what had shocked the man though. What had were the dark, angry tendrils that seeped across your skin from the wound.

“Oh my…Y/N?” Kili cradled your head in his hands.

You could only bring yourself to choke up one pain wrapped word. “Hurts-“

“She’s been poisoned.” His brother muttered. He tore off a part of his shirt to rewrap the wound with.

“Please… make it stop.”

Tauriel had come rushing into the village, blonde counterpart in tow. After capturing and interrogating an orc, she had rushed to find you. She couldn’t let you slip away. The elven woman would never have forgotten the way she felt her heart constrict at the mention that you had been shot with a Morgul arrow. The poison was fatal as it worked its way mercilessly through your body, shutting it down. At first, she refused to believe it, but the elf had seen it with her own eyes. She had heard the way you cried out, seen the way you scrunched up your face in agony. She couldn’t let that be her last memory of you. She wanted to remember the way you smiled with your eyes, or the soft lilt of your voice. So, she had raced to find you.

It wasn’t hard to follow your tracks. She had found the barrels at the bottom of the waterfall then seen the blood that laced the rocks. Her chest constricted as she pushed on. Dwarves were not light-footed people, so it was easy to distinguish the way the company had travelled. She noted the closeness of three sets which later dwindled into two and a pair of drag marks. Her issue began when the footsteps entered the town.

Though it didn’t take her long to find you within the village. She would be able to pick your voice out from within any crowd. Though this time she grimaced. It was your cries of agony that she could hear. You were buried within the house furthest from the village. She didn’t take any courtesies when she flung the door open, only to be greeted with the pointy end of a silver sword. Of course you were not alone. Whilst the majority of the group had headed off into the mountains, you had been left sidelined. A few other dwarves along with Kili and Fili had remained by your side; the latter of whom was directing his weapon towards the elf.

When she took a step back, and raised her bag filled with an assortment of herbs. “Please… I’m here to help.”

With a sharp nod, he removed the blade and let the woman into the room. Here, your cries were louder, despite how much you tried to hold them in. The Morgul poison was taking control of your body, drowning you in a pain clad state. The dwarves moved simultaneously to place you on the table. You writhed in their grip, clutching your chest.

Tauriel rummaged around in her bag, pulling out handfuls of herbs and mixing them together.

“Hold her down.” She said, as she moved towards you with a bowlful of herbs.

The four dwarves had to use a surprising amount of force to try and keep your legs still as you twisted and contorted in pain, crying out fatefully.

Kili, who was near your head, had to clench his jaw when he made eye contact with the elf. She had stilled at the sight of your wound, angry and festering.

You were consumed by a blinding pain when the brunette began to chant, pressing and rubbing the herbs into your wound. Your back arched as your stiffened, screaming.

Then suddenly it all stopped, as your body began to go numb. Your blood curdling screams morphed to soft whimpers. Fili glanced anxiously at his brother. Time seemed to slow again as you watched the woman work, tender but with haste. Then, Kili, still clutching your chest, watched as your breathing slowed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You weren’t even aware you had passed out until your eyes fluttered back open. Someone was fastening another bandage around your leg, and another was holding your hand softly. The remaining dwarves eyed cautiously from around the room. You squinted.

“Tauriel?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Lie still.” She told you.

“You cannot be her…” you muttered in a pained daze, gazing up blankly at the ceiling. “She is far away. She- she walks in starlight in another world. You’re just a dream…”

Your head rolled to the side, gazing upon Kili, who rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of your palm. He remembered the day the two of you first met her. She had saved his life. He had watched the way the two of you instantly clicked and the way that life had kept you apart.

Your fingers reached out, unexpectedly brushing hers. She took it and squeezed it gently. A smile made its way onto your face and you sighed contently happy two have your two favourite people by your side.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY SIX ⛤ DAY EIGHT ->

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ravensliterature · 2 years

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Poisoned Arrow

A/N: I know it’s been a minute and I am sorry. I really had a blast writing this one and I hope you like it!

Part II

pairing: Thranduil x Reader

warnings: Mentions of blood, poison, fluff,

w/c: 1924 (Yeah she is a little long)

Prompt: The reader is Thranduil’s wife and a part of the company. While leaving through the barrels without her husband’s knowledge she get’s hit by the poison arrow. Thranduil is trying to save his wife before it is too late.

/-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------/

She had been shot. His queen had been hit with an arrow. Thranduil could see her falling from the sky, falling slowly through the fading blue and bright stars of last night. Her lights, died as she fell to the ground with a yelp. The arrow pierced her leg after she tried to open the gate. His heart seized tight in his chest hearing her cries as he attempted to run to her side, killing any orc in his way. However, he didn't make it in time as she jumped in a barrel following her father down the river.

---

Y/N was the daughter of Thorin but her parentage was elven. When young, Thorin found an elf girl and raised her while living in Erebor. She grew into a beautiful woman and was betrothed to Thranduil for the alliance at a young age by King Thror. However, when the dragon attacked it was all put on pause, and Thorin and his family fled to the Blue Mountains.

Thranduil would not give up on her as he fell in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her at their announced betrothal. He journeyed himself to find his distant love until seeing her again in the Blue Mountains. He never imagined he’d ever have another chance to meet his beloved again, but when he did... everything changed. Thranduil asked her to marry him again in the hopes that he wasn't alone in his feelings. Apparently, she had loved him as well and agreed but things weren't how they should be. Thorin's hatred for elves had increased and never approved of the betrothal.

The argument with Thorin and Y/N spiraled until she left with Thranduil left without saying goodbye. A year later the wedding came around and Thorin refused to see his daughter marry that elf. He insisted she lives in the Blue Mountains, a place far away where dangers were less likely to come and away from the elf-kind. Shortly, Legolas was born and grew into a handsome man. Their lives were peaceful until years later when Gandalf knocked on their door.

Gandalf told her that he was building a company in the hopes of reclaiming her childhood home. It had been decided that Y/N would join the company and take part in their quest. She wanted nothing more than to go back to Erebor, return her home, and connect with her father like she once had. So, she took her chance and left. Thranduil hated her putting herself in danger but who was he to rob herself of that connection she missed so dearly? --- "Y/N!" Thorin yelled as he ran to her daughter's side.

Y/N's barrel washed up on shore as she used her upper body to crawl herself to more land trying not to put too much pressure on her leg.

"I'm here." She breathed as she looked up at Thorin. The dwarf prince scooped her in his arms holding her close as if afraid someone was going to try something else. Worry and fear were etched over his face and he saw the pain in his daughter's.

"Oin," Thorin exclaimed, "Please look at the leg. The arrow is cut but there still may be fragments inside."

The healer kneeled down next to Y/N looking at her leg. His brow furrowed with concern before he turned back to his friend. "She should be fine but we need to get her to a town with proper equipment. I'm concerned about it getting infected. " He spoke softly. Thorin nodded, helping his daughter stand on her own two feet. She slowly began to walk until she found an arrow pointed at her head.

---

Thranduil glared the orc down as Legolas held a knife towards its neck. He wanted to know what it was doing in his kingdom and why it dared to hurt his wife. It couldn't be allowed to live but he needed to know. "In time all foul things come forth," he said as he circled the orc with a sword in his hand. Legolas continued to hold the blade to its neck, "You were tracking the company of thirteen dwarves and an elf. Why?"

Malice and distaste were in his force knowing his father's fears and what it had done to his mother. This thing was not a creature but a monster sent to destroy them. Its intentions are unknown for all to know. The orc cackled, "Not thirteen, not anymore. The elf, we stuck her with a Morgul shaft. The poisons in her blood. She'll be choking on it soon."

Legolas' grip tightened on the knife causing it to tremble. He needed the orc dead or he'd kill it. A threat against his parents' safety was enough to make him kill it himself. Thranduil's breath left him in a gasp. As anger bubbled in his chest, he felt like he was trying to find air. His son's gaze remained on the orc. It knew exactly what it was talking about, the poison that poisoned the elf.

"You like killing this orc?" Thranduil said lowly, almost too calmly, "You like death? Then let me give it to you!" he yelled as he pulled out his swords. Legolas watched as his father charged toward the orc. Before he could blink, the blade made contact with the orc's skull. Blood poured from the wound but instead of retreating it rushed forward like a tidal wave. "Legolas, come with me, we must save your mother."

---

Y/N was breathing heavily as she leaned against the wall of Bard's house. Her father forced her to stay behind because of her leg. Of course, he was concerned for his daughter but she felt robbed. She wished to help reclaim her home like the rest of the company. Her cousins, Fili and Kili opted to stay behind and help take care of her until she is ready to go to the mountain. Oin stayed behind as well as did Bofur, but he just missed the boat.

However, the pain had gotten worse and she could tell something was wrong. The leg would wasn't healing as it should and she could see the fear in Oin's eyes each time he examined it even if he didn't tell her. Y/N was worried. The arrow hadn't hit anything vital, yet it could still become infected and kill her. She chucked to herself softly. Maybe it was best she stayed at home after all.

Her breath was ragged and her head was light. Her vision swayed slightly as she tried to stay upright, leaning against the wall. She was losing consciousness but she knew that the battle was not over yet. The pain was becoming unbearable and she closed her eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. Finally, her body gave way and she collapsed. "Y/N!" the dwarves yelled as they helped her up. Y/N was writhing in pain as she felt the poison all over her body. She could feel the heat of the flames searing her flesh and she felt like it was consuming her whole body.

"Put her on the table," Bard said in a frantic tone. They set her gently on the table as she continued to convulse.

"We need something to put her head on so she doesn't hit the table!" Oin shouted. The others quickly searched for anything that could possibly stop the venomous poison. They found only herbs that had been used long ago and they were useless. The poison was spreading through her veins faster than anyone had realized and it was eating away at her life. Oin examined the wound more closely. It had turned a black color and it could be seen going through her veins. This wasn't a normal poison.

"I need kingsfoil! Where is it?" Oin exclaimed to Bard. The Fili, Kili, and Bofur looked around in confusion at the mention of a plant, but they didn't have any of it. Only Oin owned the plants. "Kingsfoil? It's a weed. We feed it to the pigs!" Bard replied in confusion. "Pigs, I got it!" was heard as Bofur zoomed out the door. Y/N struggled for air. Every breath hurt her throat as she coughed painfully. The poison in her body was beginning to eat away at her life. She was dying. That was the last thought that went through her mind before another wave of pain hit her.

Suddenly everything except for Y/N went quiet as footsteps could be heard on the roof. The roof broke and a dark figure jumped down from above, landing right next to Bard's daughter and stabbing the orc in reaction. The young girl grabbed the orc and then fled as more fell through the ceiling. Fighting ensued as they tried to defend the girls and a table-ridden Y/N.

---

Thranduil and Legolas ran through the town of Dale in the hopes of finding Y/N and the dwarves. However, they stopped in their tracks when they saw orcs running on the ceilings above the water town. They both knew immediately where they were going. Thranduil ordered Legolas to stay behind while he went to search for his mother, "Stay safe my child, leave none alive."

With that being said, Thranduil continued to run at his pace faster than before. Thranduil continued to run until he heard fighting in one of the homes. With his guard up and weapons, he approached it in the hope that his wife was still alive. Upon approaching the door, he noticed the familiar scent of blood. His heart sunk in his chest realizing she might be... He opened the door to find three orcs surrounding her, the dwarves, and the humans as they were struggling to defend themselves. One of the orcs was about to strike Y/N when Thranduil shot his bow sending the arrow right into its skull. He then took out his sword slashing any orc in sight.

Thranduil rushed to her side and caressed her cheek in the hope of seeing the life in her eyes, "My darling Y/N, open your eyes." She weakly shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Nin Meleth..." "Do not speak my love." He brushed some hair away from her sweaty forehead. Bofur ran through the door tired and sweaty, with one hand on his knee and the other presenting the king's foil. Thranduil took the foil from him and began to prepare it, "She needs elvish medicine if we don't heal her leg... She doesn't have much time left." Thranduil soaked the leaves and pressed them onto her wound and began saying an elvish incantation, almost sounding more like a prayer. He looked down at her face and he saw her brows become unfurrowed and appeared to relax. Y/N looked up at him with those beautiful eyes that always filled his heart with love. He could see the pain go away and with that also the poison from her body. He bandaged the wound and held her hand. Tears escaped his eyes as she smiled up at him. His heart swelled with joy as he brought his face closer to hers and kissed her. He had wanted to kiss her forever and every moment in between. It was as though their lips touched for eternity. "Father," said a soft voice breaking the two of them apart. Their foreheads rested together and a small chuckle passed through Thranduil. "Oh, no. We've been caught by our own son."

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thewulf · 3 months

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Little One || Aragorn

Summary: Request -I had an Aragorn request that I wanted to send you; if it’s something you’d be interested in writing I know it’ll be perfect (but if it doesn’t strike your fancy I completely understand)!! After reading your fic with the orc attack I was thinking about how Aragorn would respond to reader being injured defending the hobbits... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) Kinda angsty but hella fluffy as always :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k +

TW: orcs, talks of blood, arrows, getting shot, yelling, angsty

You and Strider had been Rangers together for the better part of fifty years now. The two of you quickly found solace in the other. The two of you just seemed to compliment the other. What he lacked you picked up for him and vice versa. It wasn’t often he could find somebody who just understood him. So, he decided to keep you close but always safe.

He did what he wanted after all. He had a high enough ranking quickly. You were assigned nearly every patrol, raid, quest whatever the hell it was he did it with you. And you learned quicker than you had ever thought even possible with his aid. He wasn’t brutal on you, but he was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. He wanted you alive, so he trained you to stay that way. He had to be a little mean. A little too much sometime. For that was the real world. You couldn’t go out in the world as freely as one once could.

So, when Gandalf proposed the deal of getting the Hobbits from Bree to Rivendell he had agreed on the condition you could come with them. He wasn’t willing to leave you in some random village town in Eriador. No, he would never do that. Gandalf had agreed without a second thought thinking it was a good idea to have two Rangers instead of one.

You had decided fairly quickly that the Nazgûl was on your list of least favorite things in middle-earth you’d had the pleasure of coming across. You could deal with spiders and orcs buts these creatures were eerily different. Ice cold and terrifying, soul sucking. But you needed to remain stoic in the face of it all to help the Hobbits. The poor things were shaking they were so terrified. You’d tried stories of tales far and wide to shake their minds of their troubles, but it seemed no use as they only looked to the two of you in terror around every twist and turn.

When you stopped for the night to camp you’d noticed that Strider had led you deep into a dense forest. You’d never been the best at tracking, so you often led it to him. You really should’ve paid better attention before as you were often so reliant on his talents.

“I am off to gather a few plants for some tea. I will be back in an hour. Y/N, I trust they shall remain safe in your care?” He asked and you nodded without so much as a second thought.

“Of course.” You smiled to him, “Off you go. I know how mean you get without your tea.” That earned a hearty round of laughs from the Hobbit’s as they laid out their bedrolls for the night. It was nice to hear such a pleasant sound instead of hearing the screeching in the distance.

“I will remember that.” He glared at you with humor in his eyes before ducking into the night.

You turned back to the Hobbit’s with a stupid smile on your face not quite realizing how much you were giving way of your likeness towards the man, “Off to bed we go.” You shooed the silly little smirks right off their faces.

They all nodded quickly falling asleep without so much as a second thought. You were mighty jealous at the way they just did that. It took you far too long to fall asleep these days. Worry kept you up more than you liked to admit.

Thank whatever was out there for that worry that wouldn’t let you sleep as you heard the distant voices and branches breaking far off in the distance. Orcs. Had to be, they were so noisy. Your heartrate spiked as you heard them before you spotted them in the dark night. How in the hell had anything found you all the way out here?

“Up! Up!” You whisper shouted before shaking each of the Hobbits awake, “Abandon the camp we must go. Run” You grabbed for your sword and spare bow and arrow before ushering the small Hobbit’s further into the forest.

They ran ahead confused and disoriented having just fallen into a deep sleep but trusting you nonetheless. You knew you had made too much noise but did not quite realize how much the smaller ones were making as they ran.

You paused for a brief moment knowing your longer strides could catch up. You took a look behind you to see how in danger you truly were. The orcs hadn’t spotted your little group quite yet except one with keen eyes. Adrenaline shot through you as you saw the orcs arrow trained right at the back of Frodo’s head as he ran forward. He’d be dead instantly if the orc shot the arrow before you could stop it.

Panic shot through you as you ran ahead beside him pushing him to the ground with more force than you’d truly meant. You’d thought you were in the clear before the searing pain of being shot by an orc arrow throbbed through your shoulder blade sending you to the ground before you could think. Frodo rolled beside you which sprung Merry, Pippin and Sam into action as they pulled the two of you behind the thick trees of the dense forest. Fortunately for you it was mid-summer, and the forest was coated in dense foliage making it that much harder to find you and the Hobbits hiding in the trees.

Frodo looked more confused than upset before he saw the arrow protruding from your body. He’d understood instantly, “You have been hit miss Y/N!” Merry’s concerned voice only rose a few octaves as he saw the large arrow sticking right outside your shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked but you tried your best to bite back the tears as they were so unseasoned to such horrors in the world.

You looked down wincing at the arrow surely coated in poison. Thankfully you were only a few days out from Rivendell. You’d be fine… Strider not so much. Shuddering at the thought of the man who would be so mad you got hurt, you turned to the small Hobbit’s sitting in fear beside you.

Ignoring the arrow sticking out from your shoulder you sat up from the fall you took, “Listen, for there is not much time before they try and find us. Frodo and Sam run. Go find Strider. He will help end this swiftly.” You nodded watching them run quickly off into the forest. You’d sent Frodo off as he needed to be as far from the attacks as possible.

Wincing you turned yourself as best as you could towards Merry and Pippin, “Now, I need you two to be brave. You must snap this arrow as close to the wound as you can. I will fight these orcs off, but I cannot do that with this sticking out.” You huffed eyeing the rather large wooden arrow searing its mark in your shoulder blade.

Merry only gave you wide eyes as Pippin shook his head answering your request, “I cannot do that.”

“Not can I!” Merry agreed.

You looked behind you a little panicked seeing the orcs moving in closer. Far too close for your comfort. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to them, “It does not matter any longer. Time is of the essence now. You must or we all die.” You glared at the two of them letting them both know quite how serious this was.

“Aye, turn away.” Merry stood with shaking hands grabbing at the arrow earning a hiss from your mouth. Pippin took his hands in his helping him get the leverage he needed to break the thick wood.

“All right.” You turned your head away clutching your hands into the earth trying to ground yourself. You had to fight back everything that was telling you to pass out as the arrow snapped in two under the hands of the much smaller Hobbits. A quiet whimper left your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay conscious. The orcs were close. You had to do something.

“Miss Y/N” Merry sounded concerned as he saw your face pale out and the orcs move closer, “Please be okay.”

You nodded blinking back the wave of nausea taking over your usually so agile self. This did not feel like your standard orc poison. You knew what that felt like and this was not it. This was moving faster than anything you’d been hit by them with, “I am fine mister Pippin.” You breathed trying to blink back the unshed tears. Pain only reminded you that you were alive. With another small groan you stood from the ground trying your hardest to fight the searing fire in your shoulder, “Stay quiet and hidden. It is best to attack them by surprise. Strider will be back soon. Let us try and wait this out as long as possible.” You whispered grabbing your sword from its sheath at your side.

You waited in silence as the first of the few crept into your field of vision. They must have been lost. No way a pack of orcs were this dumb. Or they were on a special mission. But you could wait no longer as they were likely to hear your breath or any sort of movement for he was a mere step away from you now.

Quickly, you sliced off its head without much of a sound. The loudness of the animals in the night covered up for its lifeless body hitting the ground giving you a second to recuperate and fight back the overwhelming feeling of pain now making its way down your arm.

When you killed the second and third the attention was finally on you. You were not able to be as graceful and let out a cry of pain as you had to use your bum arm to defend yourself. Darting behind a tree you narrowly avoided another arrow coming right for your head this time. But you didn’t have time to panic as the man you had been waiting for finally made his grand entrance. Just as you suspected it was over before it really begun. You were a fine Ranger. But Strider was an expert one.

Leaning back on the tree you let out the breath you were holding in. Never had you been so close to losing someone so quickly on a quest. Never had you been so close to being eliminated. You were usually so much better than this. Strider was getting in your head, and you were losing focus. A Ranger losing focus! That was unheard of. But Strider was your exception it seemed.

“You arrogant fool!” Strider yelled right at you as he came storming over to where you were leaning on the tree. He hadn’t seen the broken arrow in your shoulder nor the way you were holding your arm upright. He didn’t notice the sweat the coated your face or the distant gaze in your eyes. He was mad and he wanted to take it out on someone. That someone happened to be you.

You let out a cry in pain as he grabbed for the arm that you were holding gingerly. Even the smallest movement made it feel like your arm was getting ripped right apart. You had forgotten how painful poison was for it had been nearly fifty years since you’d been struck. The bastards made it as fast and as painful as possible. And whatever this stuff was seemed worse than before.

He moved his hand away from your arm after hearing your strangled cry. Pushing you back up against the tree, avoiding your injury, he felt the sticky liquid coating your outer garments. Blood. Of course, he knew what it was. He had only begun to panic as he saw the deliriousness in your gaze. You were hurt and badly at that. He was not used to this.

Frodo jumped in between the two of you, pushing Strider away just slightly, “She saved my life master Strider! Please have no anger towards her.”

His heart raced as he ordered the Hobbits to light a fire nodding at Frodo that he was done lashing out at you. He knew you needed a helping hand. Not one to hurt you while you were down. Gently, he pushed you down to the ground, “Sit down, nigol.” He’d all but ordered as he helped the Hobbit’s start a small fire. He couldn’t see your wound and you weren’t so forthcoming with information. That and he wanted to see it for himself.

A small smile came to your lips remembering the old nickname he’d given you, “Nigol… you have not called me that in quite some time Strider.”

Brushing your comment aside he asked you, “What happened?” As he sat down next to you waiting for the fire to glow so he could inspect your wound.

You turned towards him holding your eyebrows close together trying your best to bite back the pain, “Orcs happened is all. Caught a poisoned arrow to the shoulder.” Letting out a strangled sigh you sat further back against the tree.

“How did you get hit?” He clarified with more patience in his voice than you were used to. Maybe you looked worse than you felt because he never, ever cut you a break. And you appreciated him for that as you were still alive and usually avoidant of such injuries.

“Ugly bastard was aiming right at Frodo’s small little Hobbit head.” You frowned realizing if you hadn’t noticed Frodo would be sure as dead. You caught Strider’s smile at your crass language for he knew he would never grow tired of your fowl tongue. He loved it about you, “Had to push him out of the way and he nicked me instead.”

“I heard that miss Y/N!” Frodo yelled back at the two of you shaking his head at you, “Elves are not the only creatures with good hearing!” You only smiled as you watched them feed the small fire with more twigs and sticks. It surprised you that Strider ordered a fire for you’d just been ambushed. Who knew what else lurked beyond the trees that kept you hidden.

You let out a strangled laugh feeling the effects of the poison inch its way through your system. You watched as Strider looked at you with concern. It wasn’t often you were the one on the receiving end to such a look. You’d been under his wing for a better part of half a century. You’d gotten really excellent at not getting hurt. It must have been jarring to see you fighting the pain back with such a force. He’d never admit how much he had grown to love you. He didn’t like to see you in pain. Not a bit.

He sighed seeing the fleshy wound, “You must not be so careless next. I have trained you better than that.” He sighed inspecting the wound closely, “I must remove the arrow.” He spoke slowly feeling his heart drop at your startled expression.

You shook your head with a vengeance for you did not like that statement “We are but a few days from Rivendell. Surely they will have healers who can do that properly.”

He bit back the frown as he looked at your arm, “You will not have a few days if I do not get this out.” It wasn’t ominous but simply the truth.

“Is it not an Orc arrow?” You looked down knowing what his answer was going to be but trying to ignore it in your head was proving to be a challenge.

He gave you a solemn nod, “Aye, but it does not appear to be orc poison.”

All you could muster was a simple, “Oh.” Not thinking that was a possibility. You’d still concluded it was a different form of Orc poison. What could they possibly be using?

“It appears to be something much darker.” His frown only deepened as he was studying your wound. He had ripped your shirt where you had been hit to examine it closer. It was turning black far too fast to be the standard orc poison they’d become accustomed to.

You shuddered knowing the pain would be intolerable. You already seemed to be teetering on the precipice between the living world and the unconscious world, “Do your worst then.” You spoke quickly turning away and grabbing at a stick on the ground. When you tuned back he was just looking at you with such a sadness you couldn’t help but to ask, “What?”

He shook his head breaking the stare he had on you, “Nothing. Bite the stick. Don’t fight me. You know the rules.”. It had been a long time since you were at the mercy of his hands. You were but a young Ranger the last time you’d been caught in such a dreadful position. Back then you had medicine to at least dull the pain. This was going to be hell you thought as you placed the soggy stick in your mouth. Something to bite into, crucial to keep you from yelling too loud.

But you didn’t need to worry about that issue too much as darkness took over only a moment after he begun to tug on the broken arrow embedded in your shoulder. Of course, you didn’t catch the concern or the panic that overtook him when he saw you collapse into unconsciousness so easily. He didn’t waste a second longer after the arrow was removed from your shoulder to pick you up and carry you in his arms telling the Hobbits that they had to get a move on for your sake. With hushed complaints the group was off to Rivendell in the dead of night.

It must’ve been the pain overtaking the adrenaline that had subsided that made you fade out of unconsciousness. As your body stirred awake the sun rose in the sky before you. Strider only cradled you closer to his chest when he felt you squirming beneath him. A rather large sigh of relief escaped him as he looked down seeing you slowly blink your eyes back into reality.

“Did you enjoy your rest then?” Strider smiled most genuinely down to you for as much as he loved teasing you it sure made him happy to see you awake once more.

You cracked your own smile at his sarcastic words, “It was nice, thank you for inquiring.” You hummed squirming once more in his embrace. When he locked his hands around you it was only then that you realized he was carrying you like so and he had no intention of letting you out of his grasp.

He chucked seeing your startled expression. It was also new to him too and he really did not want to admit just how much he had enjoyed holding you close to him. It put his normally anxious heart at ease. He had long since found you beautiful. He knew he had loved you when he first heard you speak your mind to a superior all those years ago. For nobody, not a single man, had the courage to speak the way you did. And you had the skill to back it up. That was why he panicked seeing your injured silhouette in the forest. For if you were to go down he had no idea what he would do. You were so deeply embedded in his life he could not even begin to fathom a life without you in it.

He ran faster than he ever had before when Sam and Frodo found him foraging for plants. When they came in blabbering that you had been hit by an arrow he began sprinting in autopilot. It drove him mad feeling like it took longer to get to you. He was there in no longer than a minute to kill the ten or so orcs that were hunting you, the one he loved. He was a maniac when it came to protecting you. He hadn’t meant to yell so harshly at you but he was scared. Terrified of the thought of losing you, his person.

He noticed the pink beginning to return to your face and more relief flooded his overstressed system, “You are getting some color back.” He noticed as he held you closer, “That is a good sign. The poison must not be spreading.”

You let out a long yawn feeling the effects of it all starting to come over you once more, “That is good. It does not hurt as bad either. Just aches a bit.” Your eyes drooped as you tried to fight off the sleep that was overcoming you.

“Rest. Go to sleep, nigol.” He smiled down to you with nothing but love in those striking eyes. He’d been carrying you for hours already, what was another few anyway?

“Nigol.” You hummed remembering the times he called you that all the way back when you first had met him. He refused to tell you what it meant and by the time you finally met an elf you’d forgotten the nickname altogether, “What does it mean?” You inquired hoping he would indulge you this time as you were on the verge of unconsciousness.

He laughed, throwing his head back and all. You admired the way his dark hair framed his fair face as he looked back down at you. He was truly so handsome. It wasn’t fair he was placed in front of you like this and yet, was so unattainable, “I did not tell you fifty years ago, why would I tell you now?”

“I thought I would try.” You sighed, “Does it mean something bad? You only use it when I mess up.” You asked him once you concluded the worst. He often used that nickname early on when you two had been partnered up. It’s use seemed to fade as you had gotten more competent. Yet now when you had a bum shoulder rendering you useless he used it once more.

He shook his head quickly, “It is not bad. I can promise you that.” He eased your worried face quickly with his words.

“Well, I suppose I can accept that.” You didn’t want to push feeling oddly unlike yourself in his arms. Usually combative and wanting to pick a friendly fight you felt like doing anything but that. You just wanted to enjoy yourself in his embrace as you knew this moment would likely never occur again.

He knew you better than anybody else. He noticed how shy you were suddenly acting. Was it the nickname? Were you tired? Was the poison moving faster than he could? He looked down seeing you continue to fight sleep. Usually so powerful you looked helpless in his arms. His eyes softened as he realized how much trust you had to have in him to relax into him like so. You were always on guard, always ready. Frodo was alive because of that instinct. But now you were at his will and he felt more responsible for you than he had ever before.

“It’s Sindarin.” He admitted wanting to give you something more as you had given him exactly what he wanted, you.

Feeling your eyes getting heavier you replied with tiredness in your voice, “I had concluded that Strider. You did tell me you were raised by elves, remember?” Lazily, you smiled up to him laughing as best as your body would allow you.

“It is Sindarin for little one.” He finally admitted to you, “Or mouse.” He looked down at you nervously hoping you’d have a decent reaction to it.

“Mouse? Little one? I should be offended.” You grinned not taking offense in the slightest for you found it oddly adorable he had given you such a sweet nickname.

“Do not take offense.” He spoke quickly, “I did not mean it that way.”

“Relax, Strider.” You yawned once more feeling your head rest of his chest heavily. Sleep was coming on quick, “I am just teasing you. You are so easy to mess with.”

“Sleep now, little one.” He gave you another gentle squeeze letting you know he had you. It was alright. You could trust him as always. And trust him you did as you found yourself in a quick sleep right back in his arms.

“There you are.” Strider’s voice pulled you from the sleep that had overcome you on the road. When you blinked you were stunned to be laying in front of a fireplace in a rather grandeur room. You must have made it all the way to Rivendell which meant you had been out for days at this point.

“Are we in Rivendell?” You tried to sit up before his hands pushed you back down, gently, into the plush elven bed.

“You must lie still.” He ordered before answering your question, “Yes. You have been unconscious for nearly four days. Lord Elrond was unsure if you were to make it.” His eyes were laced with something you had hardly seen on the man in your many years of knowing him, fear. He looked scared, terrified. Yet almost relieved seeing you awake.

“Four days?” You swallowed back your surprise.

He gave you a quick not, “Almost, you even have Lord Elrond worried.”

You sighed, “I did not mean to do that.”

He moved closer, sitting on your bedside. Taking his chance he brushed your stray hair away from your face, “You always do that.”

You just looked up at him, “What?”

“It is just that you always care for others before yourself. As much as I love that about you. Think about yourself for once. Care for yourself. You are far too kind.” He spilled his thoughts to you for he was too tired. Too scared at the thought of losing you he was not going to hold back his tongue anymore for he knew he loved you. He wanted you. He couldn’t see you with anyone else but him.

You blinked back surprise at his outright confession. Sure, the two of you had danced around any feelings for quite literally years. But you would have none of that, as sweet as it was, “You did not say that when I slayed half an orc army with you.” You spoke with a hint of playfulness in your tone. It was your favorite game to play with the man.

He laughed a full hearty laugh. A laugh so pure, one you’d heard so rarely from the man. He only laughed like that when he was at peace. Happy. Comfortable and relaxed. A sight that you could really get used to.

“For that is true.” His eyes searched your for any sign of pain. Any sign that something was wrong. He could not quite believe you were finally awake and chatting with him like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been knocked out cold for that long. When Lord Elrond had started to get nervous. Strider was not dumb. He grew up with Elves and knew their tells. When an elf grew worried he knew things were not boding well.

You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze, “What? Is there something on my face? Because that would be embarrassing. I have been asleep for three days and you let something stay on my face for that long?” You rambled not quite sure what you were doing. He was making you nervous. Strider never made you nervous. But when he gave you that earnest look you completely lost yourself to him. How fickle your brain was behaving.

He bit back a laugh sensing your nerves, “No. There is nothing marking your face. I was simply admiring you was all.”

Was he trying to kill you? Your cheeks were sure to be a bright rosy, red for his second confession was bolder than his first, “Admiring me?”

“Indeed. I would not be the man that I am had you not been by me all these years. I thought I was going to lose you. But now that you are back I get to admire you.” He spoke with that soft voice he only used ever so often. It was fascinating to get to know an entirely different side of the man you thought you knew through and through.

“I deserve no such thing.” You laughed trying to shake off the seriousness of his gaze down on you. He did not find your statement the least bit humorous.

“While I do not agree I also do not wish to argue. How do you feel?” He changed the subject even though he might have enjoyed watching you squirm. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he did not miss the small jump you had in response to his contact. Touches he had given you so often before had changed. Things had shifted between the two of you and for the first time in a long time he was excited. He had a purpose. His purpose.

You gulped back your argument and nodded in agreement, “I feel fine, will you let me sit up now or must I stare up all afternoon?” You quipped hoping your quick mouth would let him know just how fine you really felt.

Shaking his head, he held out a hand for your to take, “You may sit up, but take it slow.”

“I was shot by an arrow Strider. I did not get my legs cut off.” You took his hand letting him pull you up to sit next to him.

He rolled his eyes yet still held admiration in them, “That mouth will get you in trouble one day.” His eyes traced your face as you too just looked at him. It didn’t feel quite real that he could have admired you just as you him. Had you been blind?

You hummed in agreement not being able to take your eyes off his, “Not if you are there to protect me.”

It was he who broke the staring game going on between the two of you as he collected his thoughts, “Indeed, little one. There is nothing truer than that statement.” Gaining some courage, he took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze, “Please never scare me like that again for I cannot bear it.”

“I will try my hardest, as long as you promise to do the same.” You nodded towards him feeling bashful in front of the man you’d grown to love. The man you had only hoped to love you as he did. The man you never could have imagined felt the same. Yet here you were.

Giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, he simply nodded to you, “I promise, little one. I promise with my whole heart.”

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minaturefics · 11 months

Text

Though I Know My Heart Would Break

Request: For the poll that Legolas won! You guys sent in a few prompts, I've incorporated: sick (injured, rather) fic, hurt/comfort, everyone lives, and reader confesses first! Hope you guys like it! (Title is from Hozier's Francesca that has me in a chokehold)

Legolas x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

Content warnings: Mild injury (no overly graphic descriptions)

3.7k words

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You walked through the forest, ducking under the cedar branches, weaving between the cypresses. The air was rich with the scent of herbs — thyme and sage, marjoram and parsley. The late afternoon sun filtered in through the canopy, specking the forest floor with light. Legolas’ footsteps were silent on the soft ground, but the steady clopping of the horse he was leading reassured you of his presence.

With the coronation over, and Eowyn and Faramir wed, attention was turned to restoring Minas Tirith and setting up a settlement at Emyn Arnen. You and Legolas were tasked with surveying the land and forests around Emyn Arnen. Sam was curious about the plants, hearing how new and different they were to those back in The Shire, but Frodo’s reluctance to stray further than the Citadel kept him in Minas Tirith.

You paused by a cluster of pink rockfoils, thumbing the thin stems before plucking a few small flowers and tucking them into a waxed pouch.

“Mellon nin,” Legolas said, sounding half-amused, half-exasperated, “Why do you pause and pluck? You have been doing so since we arrived. ”

“They’re for Sam. He might have agreed to stay in Minas Tirith, but I saw the shade of disappointment in his eyes. I thought perhaps I could bring the forest to him instead.”

His lips tugged up at the corners. “And what will you give the forest in return?”

“What do you mean?” You frowned and stood.

He smiled, soft and knowing, eyes wandering over the barks and branches. “These trees have been left at peace for many years, the bushes and shrubs untouched. They are not used to wandering fingers and restless feet.”

You glanced down at the patch of rockfoils, the decapitated stems looking more brutal in light of Legolas’ words. Your lips twisted and he chuckled, and your eyes drifted back to him.

He had always been so full of light and laughter, even during the endless days and dark nights, even after Gandalf fell, even after the hobbits were taken. Ethereal, that was what people said of the elves. Otherworldly.

But he looked so human, so normal, standing in a patch of sunlight, laughing at the concerned expression on your face. There were smudges of dirt on his boots, dew dotting the bottom hem of his cloak, and even a small leaf lodged in his hair.

Yes, Legolas has always just been Legolas to you.

Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to lose your heart to him. How could you not? While the others regarded him with a deference, or awe in the hobbits’ case, or even confusion at his elf customs, he had never truly seemed so different to you. His eyes, brown and alive in the light, still crinkled at the corners when he smiled. His voice, low and melodious, still cracked when he spoke of sorrows. And his hands, delicate and strong, still bore soft calluses from his bow.

The last couple of days had been so indulgently wonderful. Without the threat of war or the constant need for secrecy and vigilance, being out in the wilds once more was soothing. It was a great secret joy, of course, that you had Legolas’ undivided attention.

He had been more loose limbed and free with touches. Hands grazing yours as you walked, his knee against yours while you sat. His eyes too, seemed to melt into an amber by the fire, a tenderness in his gaze. It felt as though the seed of friendship had slowly, slowly, started to grow into something more.

“Shall we continue on?” He said, and inclined his head towards the distant sound of water. “We can set up camp and leave our things while we walk the forest.”

You nodded and smiled before looking away, eyes scanning the forest floor before they landed on a patch of flowers. They were strange looking, three pronged with large paper-like petals. You knelt by them, carefully cutting the blooms with your knife, and idly said, “It is beautiful here, is it not?”

He hummed in agreement. “I could envisage residing here for a time, should Faramir allow it.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder and chuckled. “You should speak to Sam. Aragorn has already consulted him on some of the gardens in the Citadel, it would not surprise me if Faramir would ask him to Emyn Arnen to design something.”

“Those flowers,” he began, stepping closer and inspecting them, “they are… strange. I do not know what they are, and perhaps it would be better to leave them be.”

“Are they poisonous?”

He leaned in and sniffed them. “No, but as I said before, this forest is unaccustomed to such things. Gifts must be freely given, and what is not must be a fair exchange.”

You dropped them into the pouch and laughed, continuing through the forest. There was a strange note in his voice, something older, wiser, than the Legolas you knew. But what harm could there be in a few cuttings? The forest was vast; a few flowers and leaves here and there would not be any loss at all. “Come now, Legolas, you speak as though —”

A stone caught your toe, your knee buckled, and you fell to the ground. Sharp pain jolted up your wrists and knees, then a hot stinging spread across your palms and shins. You blinked, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the rotting leaves in the dirt, before warm hands rested between your shoulder blades.

“Are you alright?” Legolas said, crouching and easing you back into a sitting position. You stared at him, eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips. Had he always had such beautiful lips? “Mellon nin, are you alright?”

“Yes… I —” The shock of tingling subsided from your hands and legs and only a dull throbbing remained. You looked down at your knee, the same knee that had been shot, and found your trousers ripped and the old wound reopened. It was not as bad as the initial wound, though still relatively deep, and was bleeding sluggishly through the matted dirt. “Oh, I’m… bleeding.”

His eyes darted from your knee to the divot in the ground where a leaf caught in your fall was stained with blood. His lips tightened before he let out a soft sigh. “It is as I said: a fair exchange.” An easy smile spread across his face, the hand on your shoulder loosened its grip, and his voice took on a merry lilt. “However, I do not believe we will have any more trouble on our little trip here.”

The shock of the fall had subsided and you looked at the pouch still clutched in your fist. “Well, I suppose I should make the most of it then, and collect what I can for Sam.”

He laughed, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. “Never one to pass up an opportunity. Come, let us set up camp by the river and have a look at your wound. I do not wish for the matrons at the Houses of Healing tomorrow to claim I have neglected you.”

He pulled you to your feet, and looped an arm around your waist to help you hobble along. His arm was warm, his grip firm but gentle. Pressed up against him you could smell his scent, something fresh like grass or water, unsullied even by a couple of days in the forest. The both of you found a suitable spot under shelter by the trees, and after tying the horse up, he led you to the banks.

His nimble fingers pried apart the shredded remains of the fabric by your knee and started to wash the wound. He dressed it with some honey from his pack and untouched moss from the forest floor and some spare wrappings you had in your supplies for such an eventuality.

While he worked, you watched his hands. Long and lithe, they were precise and delicate with their motions. If only you could reach out, and lay your hand on top of his, to sweep your thumb over the back of his knuckles. But your hands were still muddied, and the new closeness you shared with him was too new and too tenuous for something like that.

Legolas set up camp with a practiced efficiency, and soon the both of you were sitting beside each other by the fire, eating your supplies of bread and cheese. The fire crackled and popped, and around you the forest became alive at night. Owls hooted in the trees, and critters rustled in the bushes, and then, very softly, Legolas began to sing.

The words were lost on you, but the melody was enough. The notes drifted in the air, curling around you, seeping into your skin. It sounded slow and adoring, leisurely and lazy, and the sensation of lying on sun-warmed grass, your lover’s touch skirting up your arm, filled your body. You leaned back on your arms, sinking into his voice, letting it carry and caress you.

When the last few words rang in the air, you opened your eyes. Legolas was looking at you with a fond expression, eyes half-lidded and lips in a soft smile.

“That song,” you whispered, “what is it about?”

His smile widened and he said, “I’ll tell you another time perhaps.”

Legolas stood on one of the parapets that overlooked the entrance to the Houses of Healing. Your wound was not healing as well as it should, most likely because of how bad the initial arrow wound was, and you were getting it redressed by the matrons. He sighed and let his eyes wander from the stone flagstones, to the rooftops, to the plains. In truth, the sight of your flesh, angry and inflamed, shook something in him. Even something as minor as your wound, was enough of a risk for infection, for fever.

Humans were so fragile, so… final.

He blinked at the thought. Yes, of course, how could he forget? Humans were mortal. Boromir was, Aragorn was. Even the merry little hobbits and Gimli were. How strange to think that such a thing slipped his mind when it came to you, but it was far too easy really.

There was a vitality that seemed to pour from your being, an almost stubborn resilience, especially in the grim shadow of misfortune. It was the way you would play with the hobbits, even after a long day of walking, or grit your teeth and carry on, even harrowing experience after harrowing experience. When you smiled, the day was better, brighter, and he always found himself trying to get another laugh from you.

And yet… such a light could be so easily snuffed out.

He shifted on his feet and watched as you limped from the Houses of Healing. He had intended to go with you, but Sam had wanted to discuss garden plans, and Boromir had gone with you instead. He was about to raise his arm and call out to you, when a figure emerged from behind the line of trees. Boromir walked towards you with outstretched arms and pulled you into his side and helped you along, vanishing from his sight beyond the trees.

Ever since the end of the war, it had felt as though things were shifting between him and you. It was only small, nearly imperceptible changes — softer smiles, more frequent dinners alone, hands that reached and fingers that brushed. And yet… Why did it feel as though you were on the other side of something he could not cross?

He thought of the cry of the gulls, the perpetual tugging at his heart for the sea. Oh, how he wished he had never heard them. Was this how Arwen felt all the time? Longing, aching. She was happy with Aragron, he knew, but sometimes he would catch her gazing out of a window, eyes forlorn and smile sad. Aragorn knew, understood even, and in those moments he left her to her quiet longing, never hurt or bothered, and welcomed her into his arms when she went back to him.

But would you understand? Could you accept that there would always be one part of him that belonged to the sea, to the distant shore he would never reach? Or would it be a burden to ask such a thing of you? Maybe you would be better off with someone… mortal. He sighed and wandered back towards the Citadel proper.

“Boromir, this is unnecessary. Put me down!” Your laughter rang out and you and Boromir emerged onto the courtyard. You were in his arms, limbs flailing as he wrangled to keep you held properly. “Boromir, I — oh, Legolas.”

“Ah, Legolas,” Boromir said as he gently replaced you back on the ground. “I return them to your care.”

He forced a smile onto his face. “How is your leg?”

“Mild infection but nothing to worry about,” you said, hobbling over to him.

He instinctively reached out and wrapped an arm around your waist. You were warm underneath his hand, warmer than usual, and you smelled strongly of herbal poultice. He could detect traces of burdock and comfrey, and underneath it all, the smell of you. He took a greedy breath, filling his lungs with proof of your life. “You should be resting. Let us go back inside.”

“I’ve been inside the past week. I’m bored to death,” you grumbled. “Let’s sit outside for a while.”

He helped you to one of the stone benches and you collapsed onto it, hissing in pain. You gingerly stretched your leg out and sighed as you settled. He sat next to you, his eyes lingering on your knee.

“Oh, stop fussing. It’s quite minor, really.”

“I have seen men succumb to infection from unassuming cuts. I do not think I will rest easy until you are fully healed.”

He followed the line of your leg up to your waist, then shoulders, and along your jaw and lips, up to your nose and eyes. Such beauty, destined to fade, to vanish from the world forever. How could he bear it? How could anyone?

“What is on your mind, my friend?” You asked.

“I was just thinking about the fading nature of men. I do not know how your kind bear it.”

“Death?” You chuckled. “But elves can die too, can they not?”

“Yes, but… it is not in our nature. In peace times, it is very rare for our kind to die. For men… even now, where there is no suffering any longer, you still experience the sting of mortality.” His chest constricted. “How can one stand to behold love and light, knowing it will vanish?”

“It is because they do not last, that we relish in them.”

“Even if it will bring you pain later?”

You smiled, gentle and indulgent, and placed your hand on top of his. His shoulders relaxed at your touch, the tension seeping out of his muscles. He wanted to capture the moment, to bottle it somehow, keep the image of you with the sun on your eyelashes and the feeling of the softness of your skin forever preserved.

“Yes,” you whispered, “even then.”

Something shifted in his heart, just slightly, and a smile crept onto his face. Yes, he thought, especially then.

“Sam,” you said, surveying the small garden. He had done a good job with it — the shrubs were well trimmed and flowers burst in orange and yellow all around. “Are you certain it will look good?”

He nodded and grinned. “It’ll look real pretty with some candles about. I still remember what it looked like in Lothlorien. We don’t ‘ave the sort of fancy holders and the like, but I’ll do my best.”

You smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. I would do it myself but my knee…”

“No thankin’ needed. If anything, I should be thanking you. You brinin’ me those plants and flowers, even when the forest didn’t like you doin’ so.” His eyes fell to your knee. “I’m real sorry it caused you such trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” You chuckled and patted him on the back. You looked around the garden again, trying to imagine the candles and cushions that Sam said he’d arrange for the night time picnic you had planned. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think he’ll love it. Mighty romantic, if I can say.”

You shifted on your feet, stomach suddenly lurching. “What if I’m mistaken, Sam? I’m not sure I could bear the embarrassment.”

The last week or so had been so lovely it had felt like a dream. Nearly every night, Legolas had invited you to sit with him at the top of some tower or parapet. He would point and tell you stories of the stars and of the elves that had come before. There were so many instances where he would lean in close, eyes half-lidded, and talk in a low, murmured tone. You would watch his lips, and watch as he watched yours. But then he would draw back and glance away.

“The elves are funny folk,” he said with a sigh. “I couldn’t tell you what might be goin’ on in Legolas’ mind, but I doubt he would be spendin’ so much time with you if he didn’t have some… reason to do so. If you catch my meaning.”

“I hope so, Sam. Well, I’ll leave you to it. I need to go to the kitchens to see what cheese and fruit they might be able to spare me.”

He gave you an encouraging smile and with a little wave, you set off downstairs.

The sun was just setting when Sam called you back to the garden to assess what he had prepared. Candles were dotted all around the courtyard, separated on candelabras and clustered in small groups around the picnic blanket. Plush cushions were laid out and there were little white flowers scattered on the soft wool, perfuming the air with the faint smell of jasmine.

“Sam,” you gasped. “This is — I cannot —”

“I’ll be takin’ your speechlessness as a compliment?” He smiled shyly and ducked his head. He reached for the picnic basket in your hand and placed it on the blanket. “There, now it’s complete.”

“I’ll repay you for this Sam, I promise.”

He blushed. “Like I said before, there’s no need. Anyway, I best be hurryin’ along. Wouldn’t want Legolas to stumble upon me here and get any wrong ideas.”

You laughed and he vanished back inside. You limped over to the blanket, wincing a little as you lowered yourself, and tried to slow your breathing. Legolas would come, wouldn’t he? What if he took one look at the scene and fled? You shook your head. No, he wouldn’t do that. If you were truly mistaken about his feelings towards you, he would tell you gently and bear you no ill will.

“Mellon nin,” Legolas said from behind you and you turned, heart thumping in your chest. His eyes were wide and a slow smile was spreading across his face. “I received your message. Why have you asked me here?”

You swallowed. Did he not know? “Is it… is it not obvious?”

“I have an inkling, perhaps.” He wandered over, his steps lazy and relaxed, and sank onto the cushions. The tightness in your chest eased a fraction. “But I do not wish to presume what may or may not be in your heart. Will you not give me the truth?”

“Legolas, I…” You cleared your throat. By the Valar, why was it so difficult to speak? He arched an eyebrow at you and you glanced away, speaking more to the picnic basket than to him. “I… care for you. A great deal.”

He took your hand, and you dared to lift your gaze. He beamed at you, and then a flash of mischief entered his eyes. “As a friend?”

You scowled at him. “Do you often plan candlelit picnics for your friends, Legolas?”

He laughed and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. They were soft and warm, his breath hot on your skin. “I am teasing, meleth nin.”

Heat crept up your neck and you tried to withdraw your hand. He held fast and planted a line of kisses up, up, up, from your wrist to your elbow to your shoulder. His eyes were almost sparking in the dim, the dots of candlelight flickering in his dark irises. He kissed your jaw and your nose and your temple before dipping his head to capture your lips.

He kissed slow and languid, as though savouring the feeling of you against him. He tasted tart and sweet, no doubt from the berry and honey biscuits you knew he liked to snack on. The strange tension in your stomach snapped and vanished, and you melted under his touch. His growing smile made you giggle and your teeth knocked against his, making him laugh.

“I am curious about what you have in that picnic basket of yours,” he murmured. “There will be time for such enjoyment later.”

A flush coloured your cheeks. “I suppose it would be a waste if we simply ignored all the food I prepared.”

“Though, before we continue, I must ask you a question first,” he said, growing grave and serious. His eyes drifted down to your joined hands, and he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “Could you bear being with me, living with me, when part of my heart is forever owned by the sea?”

You reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “My love, could you bear to be with me? If you stay, you will fade.”

“It would be a worse fate to live eternity without you,” he whispered. “That I could not bear.”

“Legolas…” It seemed all the more tragic that he, of all people, should die. He was light and joy and the thought of him growing cold and dim wrenched at your heart. “You deserve to… I cannot…”

“I have made my choice, meleth nin. Let us be happy together.” He cupped your cheek, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes were soft, but certain, his touch gentle but sure. He kissed the tip of your nose, chuckling, before he slanted his lips against yours. The kiss was chaste and quick, and all the more sweeter for its casualness.

“For however long we have,” he murmured, “let us be happy.”

“Alright,” you said. You rested your forehead against his, inhaling his scent, breathing his breath. Yours, for now, for ever. “For however long we have.”

---

ok but what is it about the immortality of elves that has me appreciating/relishing/romanticising our mortal lives. i swear this is the second time ive done this with legolas.

Taglist: @sotwk

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

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shirefantasies · 1 month

Text

𓇢𓆸 The Hobbit Masterlist 𓇢𓆸

(All works are x GN!Reader unless otherwise specified!)

☆ = Personal Favorite

ღ = Suggestive

Scenarios/Reactions

How Thorin’s Company Act Around Their Crush

Thorin’s Company When You Call Everyone Pet Names ☆

A Headcanon For Each Company Member

Thorin's Company + Physical Affection ☆

Fiery, Fierce, Fabulous!

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version) ღ

Things You Do Together ☆

Showing the Company Your Tattoos ღ

How Many Kids Do They Want? ☆

When You Have a Buzzcut

Trichotillomania ☆

Calling Thorin’s Company Pretty

Taking Care of You When Injured ღ☆

How Thorin’s Company Would Set You Up With Someone ღ

What Type of Kisser Are The Hobbit Characters? ☆

The Hobbit Characters’ Favorite Body Part of Yours

Thorin’s Company When You Have Really Long Hair

One-Shots

Mission of Misunderstanding- Kili x F!Human!Reader ☆

Not Here- Bilbo x F!Sick!Reader ☆ღ

Chains of Flesh- Azog the Defiler x GN!Human!Reader ☆

Roots Running Deep- Balin x F!Witch!Reader ☆

Silly ‘Ol Bear- Bombur x F!Dwarrow!Reader

Miscellaneous Characters (LoTR & The Hobbit)

The Elves’ Spice Tolerances

Elves + Braiding

The Hobbits + F!Human Crush ☆

Little Things- The Hobbits + Shorter!F!Hobbit!Reader

The Elves Reacting to F!Reader’s Burlesque Performance ღ

Elves’ Reaction to Being Called Pretty

LoTR + The Hobbit Matchups

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sweetbutpsychobutsweet · 26 days

Text

The Wandering Widow

Chapter 12

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: while recovering from the close call with Azog, you and the rest of the company seek shelter in a nearby tavern. unfortunately, it happens to be a tavern you have a lot of history with. will your traveling companions discover the connection between you and the seedy tavern?

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, attempted fingering, brief descriptions of bloody wounds/injuries

Author's Note: This one ended up being a looong chapter but the next few installments include scenes I've been excited about writing for a while😊 I've already started writing the next one so hopefully it shouldn't take too long to post! Thank you so much to everyone who has already shown so much support to the previous chapters. It really makes my day getting to read all of your sweet comments😘

Word count: 3473

You’re vaguely aware of the sun shining down on your face, warming your skin. You squint at the bright light before the sun is blocked out by a shadowy form standing over you. It calls out your name and you groan in response.

“Am I dead?” you ask and the shadow laughs. “Not for lack of trying,” Kili says and you peel an eye open to squint at him.

“Thorin?” Kili nods to where the others are sitting a few feet away from you. You turn your head to see Gandalf crouching over a still-unconscious Thorin. Before you can start to panic, the wizard waves a hand over his face and Thorin jolts awake. He calls out your name hoarsely and Gandalf motions to where you still lay.

“Don’t worry,” he assures him, “she’s just fine.”

Dwalin and Gandalf help him to his feet and Kili brings a gentle hand to your back as you sit up.

Shaking off the help, Thorin takes a few steps closer, towering over you. He extends a hand out, and while you would normally wave it off, this time you let yourself take it. Sliding your hand into his you let him pull you to your feet until you’re standing face to face.

He takes a step back, keeping his hand intertwined in yours as he looks you over head to toe.

Your head is still throbbing from where you were knocked to the ground. Thorin’s gaze falls on the wound, his eyes widening in concern.

“I’m fine,” you assure him before he can overreact. Especially considering he’s in much worse shape than you are.

“You could have died,” he whispers hoarsely, brows furrowing in concern.

“Well you made almost getting killed by an orc look like so much fun,” you shrug, “I thought I’d join you.”

He shakes his head with a sigh, clearly satisfied you can’t be too badly injured if your sense of humor is still intact.

Reluctantly he drops your hand, stepping around you to address a relieved-looking hobbit.

“And you,” he snaps, “what were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!”

Bilbo blinks in shock. “Did I not say that you would be a burden?” he continues, stalking closer to the hobbit. “That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?”

Bilbo drops his gaze sadly and you’re about to give Thorin another head injury when he continues.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life,” Thorin sighs, enveloping the hobbit in a warm embrace.

“You saved my life, you saved her life,” he gestures to you with a rare smile.

“But I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, I would have doubted me too,” Bilbo assures him. “I’m not a hero or a warrior. Not even a burglar.”

You laugh and step forward to give the hobbit’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as the eagles fly off overhead with the sunrise.

Thorin suddenly goes still beside you. You follow his gaze over Bilbo’s shoulder and gasp.

“Is that what I think it is?” Bilbo asks as you all walk closer to the edge of the cliff. Gazing in awe at the single solitary peak sitting on the horizon.

“Erebor,” Gandalf confirms. “The lonely mountain, the last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth.”

“Our home,” Thorin smiles and looks over at you, a warm feeling blooming in your chest as he interlaces your fingers with his again.

You don’t tear your gaze from his until a chirping noise catches your attention as a dark bird glides overhead, seemingly headed to the same place as the rest of you.

“A raven!” Oin exclaims. “The birds are returning to the mountain!"

“That my dear, Oin,” Gandalf corrects, “is a thrush.”

“But we’ll take it as a sign,” Thorin says from beside you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “A good omen.”

“You’re right,” Bilbo agrees, “ I do believe the worst is behind us.”

“I should hope so,” you sigh. “I for one don’t think I could stomach seeing one more orc until I’ve gotten at least a few ales in me.”

“We should find lodging in a tavern tonight,” Thorin agrees, “somewhere we can rest before continuing our journey.”

“Oh no!” you gasp turning to face him fully.

“Oin did you hear that?” you call out to the healer. “Thorin just agreed with me, it must be worse than we thought.”

The rest of the company chuckles as you all start to gather your things.

“I do believe The Wandering Widow is only a few miles from us,” Gandalf supplies. You freeze at the name, looking up to see the wizard giving you a mischievous grin.

Of course, you mutter to yourself, why wouldn’t Gandalf know your connection to that specific tavern?

You narrow your eyes at the wizard, daring him to reveal what he knows to the rest of the group. He just gives you a conspiratory wink and continues down the rocky path.

That wizard had better keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him.

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

The tavern is exactly as you remember it.

It’s been a few years since you last set foot on the booze-soaked floorboards, but not a single thing has changed since then. The decor is exactly the same, with the smell of mead and stale smoke still lingering in the air.

Even after all this time, you know there’s still a chance that the staff will recognize you. So you elect to disappear among your kin, sticking close to the group with your hood pulled over your head and your gaze cast downwards.

Gandalf split off from the group upon your arrival, volunteering himself to haggle with the owner over reserving rooms for all of you.

“He’s been gone awhile,” Bilbo remarks from behind the large mug of ale set in front of him. He took all of one sip of the drink before trying to surreptitiously slide the drink further away from him without anyone noticing.

“I’ll go check on him,” Balin offers, sliding his chair back.

“No,” you stop him, “I’ll go, I could use another drink anyways,” you lie.

While it is true you’re not nearly as drunk as you’d like to be, you suspect you already know the reason for the delay.

You can feel Thorin’s eyes on the back of your head as you go, reluctantly pulling off your hood as you duck out of the room.

Your mood has noticeably shifted with the anxiety over returning to this tavern with the company in tow. Thorin made no mention of your change in mood during the journey here, but you know he's noticed by the way you keep catching him watching you with that concerned look in his eyes.

Thankfully he doesn’t bring it up. Either because he’s too relieved you’re both alive to pick a fight right now or because he can sense how badly you’d like to avoid this conversation with him right now.

You can hear the raised voices before you even push the door open.

Sure enough, the wizard is in a very heated argument with the tavern owner.

“Have you gone mad?! No establishment in all of Middle Earth would charge that much per night!”

“Well, good luck finding another establishment willing to accommodate that many dwarves at once.” Grumbles the red-faced proprietor. “1500 a night. Take it or leave it.”

“Bertram Blackwood,” you sigh dramatically from the doorway, “are you trying to take advantage of my friend here?”

Both of the men turn to look at you in surprise. Bertram whispers your name in surprise.

“As I live and breathe,” he chuckles dryly. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you anytime soon. Not since you disappeared like a thief in the night.”

“I didn’t actually steal anything,” you remind him, “I only took the money I was owed.”

“Took a lot more than that,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest, “lost a lotta my regular customers when my headlining act up and left.”

“Yes I do recall hearing lots of complaints across the land when a famous tavern dancer suddenly stopped performing,” Gandalf chuckles.

How he was able to figure out that was you, is a mystery you aren’t prepared to solve right now.

“I’m afraid I was presented with an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. But that’s not important right now. Perhaps, you’d be willing to give my friends and me a discount? For old time's sake?”

You bat your eyelashes and try to give Bertram your most charming smile.

He just scoffs at your attempts. “If you want to bring ‘old times’ into it, it’s just gonna cost you more, girl.”

“We’ve been traveling for some time now, and many of us are injured,” Gandalf pleads, trying to appeal to his emotional side. You should have explained to the wizard that Bertram Blackwood has no emotions to appeal to.

“You think you’re the first to show up on my doorstep with some sob story? You don’t stay at The Wandering Widow for a vacation, you stay when everything else has gone to shit.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “What if we pay you the regular rate and…” you huff reluctantly, “I’ll put on an encore performance while we’re here.”

A triumphant smile creeps onto Bertram’s face and Gandalf raises a brow in surprise.

“But!” you stare them both down, “you both have to swear that you won’t breathe a word of this to the others. Especially, Thorin.”

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

After swearing them both to secrecy and paying for the rooms, you and Gandalf return to the others with arms full of ale.

“Everything alright?” Thorin asks the both of you as you slide another drink over to him.

“It is now,” you assure him, as you bring another mug to your lips.

“The owner was trying to overcharge us but we handled it. We’ll have several rooms for the next few nights.”

He nods tersely and goes to reach for the ale you set in front of him.

As soon as he lifts his arm he visibly flinches in discomfort, reminding you that hours ago a warg tried to turn him into a chew toy.

“Have you had Oin look at those bites yet?” you ask and he nods over to where Oin and several other dwarves are slumped against the table, surrounded by several empty tankards of ale. “Our healer seems otherwise engaged at the moment.”

“I can do it,” you offer, not wanting to see him pushing through the pain any longer.

He raises a brow, unsure about your healing abilities. And rightfully so after all your botched attempts to patch the both of you up as children when you were out getting into trouble.

“I can at least dress it for you,” you assure him, “so it doesn’t get infected. It’s not like I’m offering to perform surgery or anything.”

“As long as you promise not to use any sharp objects near me,” he grumbles, slowly rising from the table with a groan.

“I’m afraid I can make no such promises,” you sigh, leading him up the stairs to your rooms.

“As long as I don’t lose a limb I suppose you can’t make things worse,” you glare over your shoulder at him, and the small smirk he tries to hide as he climbs up the stairs behind you.

Reaching the end of the hallway, you push open the door to a spacious bedroom. Thorin closes the door behind you with a click as you shrug off your cloak.

It's only then that you realize what you’ve just volunteered yourself for. The two of you are now alone for the first time since… he convinced you to end your survival fast using sexual favors.

And if memory serves, the warg bit him around the midsection which means… “You’ll have to take off your shirt,” you instruct him, purposefully trying to avoid making eye contact.

Instead you busy yourself by digging through your discarded bag, searching for the tinctures and bandages you might need.

Taking a shaky breath you finally turn to face him, biting your bottom lip absentmindedly at the sight of him pulling his shirt overhead. His back is still to you and you let your eyes trace the corded muscles of his back.

You’re so lost in thought that you forget to avert your gaze as he turns to face you. He smirks when he catches you watching him. “See something you like?”

You roll your eyes, strolling closer to him with your arms full of medical supplies.

“Just sit down,” you grumble, tossing the items onto the bedside table before giving his shoulder a gentle shove until he sits down in front of you.

Your fingers absentmindedly run down his chest as you assess the wound at his midsection. Teeth marks line his abdomen in a semi-circle, still red and angry.

You bite down on your lip again, not expecting it to be this bad. It's a miracle he walked all the way down the mountain without showing any signs of distress. Whatever healing Gandalf used to bring him back to consciousness must have helped to keep the discomfort to a minimum.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” you mumble, walking across the room to dip a clean rag in the basin of hot water. If he hadn’t been wearing several heavy layers that warg would have bitten right through him.

“As are you,” he reminds you, wincing when you gently bring the damp rag to the edge of his wound. Bringing your free hand to his shoulder, you step closer to Thorin. Until you’re standing directly between his legs.

When you bring the rag back to the edge of the wound he tries to jerk away again. But this time you maintain a firm grasp on his shoulder to keep him in place.

He clenches his jaw and his hands snake up your thighs to rest on your hips. Fingers dig deeper into your flesh with every stroke of the cloth. His grip is so strong it should be painful, but instead you have to suppress a moan at the feeling of Thorin's fingers bruising your skin.

“I haven’t yelled at you yet,” he grinds out, trying to distract himself from the pain.

“You yelled at the hobbit,” you remind him, “isn’t that close enough?”

He lets out a weak laugh as you set the cloth down and pick up the tin of salve beside you.

“You jumped in first,” he grunts as your sticky fingertips brush against his skin. “He was just following your lead.”

“I suppose,” you hum absentmindedly.

“It was reckless,” he grumbles.

“Mmhmm,” you apply the rest of the salve to the wound.

“You almost died right in front of me,” he reminds you.

“I know, I was there,” you reach for the bandages, beginning to wrap his wound.

“I almost lost you,” he whispers, “I- you can’t do something that dangerous again.”

Your fingers go still on the bandages and you look up at his face.

“Why do you think I did it in the first place? Out of boredom? You were the one who ran head first into the jaws of a warg, did you think I was going to just sit back and watch you lose your head?”

“Is losing your own head any better?” he narrows his eyes at you.

“This is the part where you thank me for quite literally sticking my neck out for you.” You tie off the bandage at his midsection a little tighter than necessary before tossing the excess off to the side. “Is it really so hard to accept help when you need it Thorin?”

Crossing your arms over your chest you level a steely glare at him.

You expect him to return the look, but instead he just reaches for the discarded rag beside you. Brushing your hair out of your face, he lifts the rag up to your head. You try to jerk yourself away but his free hand is still at your hip and he holds you firmly in place.

“Is it really so hard to accept help when you need it?” he throws your words back at you and you relent with an irritated huff.

He gently wipes all the blood and dirt from your face. Removing all the evidence from your most recent brush with death. As if it will be enough to make either of you forget you almost died in each other's arms. The only time you want to be lying on top of Thorin like that is in a much different scenario.

A scenario you can't help but imagine, now that you're alone together again.

As Thorin focuses on cleaning your face, you focus on studying his. His brows are furrowed in concentration as he cleans the head wound.

Thorin stills when he catches you watching him, and you don’t bother to divert your gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that, lass,” he growls in warning.

“Or what?” you tilt your head at him, the edges of your mouth quirking up into a smirk.

He remains still as a statue under your challenging gaze. You slowly glide your hands up his bare chest, wrapping your arms around your neck. He growls your name under his breath, nostrils flaring as he tries to restrain himself from taking the bait.

You know it's probably not the best time for it. You’re both injured, and it’s been a very long day. But that only seems further reason for the two of you to release the tension on each other.

You lean forward to rest your forehead against his and he drops the cloth, encircling his arms around your waist.

“Can you tell me what you’re sitting on right now, my king?” you whisper.

“A bed,” he grumbles as you gently press your lips against his forehead.

“And do you recall what you said would happen the next time we came across a bed?” you pull back to look at his face and his eyes darken at the memory of the last time your limbs were entangled together like this.

“I only said I would fuck you in a bed,” he smirks up at you, “I didn’t say it would be the next one.”

“Suit yourself,” you sigh dramatically, “I’ll just have to ask someone else.” You go to pull away from him and with a low growl, he yanks you right back in until you’re practically in his lap. He releases a hand from your waist to grip your jaw, pulling your face down to his.

“There will be no one else,” he growls before crashing his lips against yours.

You moan against the kiss before bringing your hands up to his shoulders, giving him a gentle shove back onto the bed. You break your lips from his to crawl your way up his body. Careful to not jostle the wound at his abdomen.

You’re about to seat yourself on Thorin’s lap when he suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, flipping you both over so he is towering above you.

Burying his face in your hair, he slowly glides his tongue against the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. Playfully biting at your skin you wrap your arms around his neck again, pulling him down closer to you with a deep moan.

Thorin's free hand brushes against your side, tracing the curves of your body all the way down to your ass. “Did you really think I would pass up an opportunity to have you all to myself?”

He snakes a hand down your trousers, cupping the heat between your legs. You tighten your arms around his neck, keeping your bodies glued together as he starts to tease your dripping entrance.

His lips brush the shell of your ear. “You’re all mine tonight,” he whispers before plunging a finger all the way inside of you.

You open your mouth in surprise, a cry of pleasure traveling up from your diaphragm. But before it can pass your lips you’re interrupted by the creak of the door swinging open.

You both jump at the intrusion, turning to see Kili and Fili standing frozen in the doorway with eyes wide. “Uhhh,” Kili’s jaw goes slack as he grips a bloodied rag in his hand. “Kili, uh, sliced his hand on a broken bottle,” Fili mumbles trying to look anywhere but at the two of you. “Balin said you were already patching up Thorin so we thought…”

With a heavy sigh, you let your head fall back against the pillow beneath you, looking up at Thorin. He narrows his eyes at you, subtly shaking his head.

“Come on in,” you grumble across the room, reluctantly pushing Thorin off of you.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

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iexisttospitegod69 · 4 months

Text

Ok I know this is the most overused trope, but I’m sucker for it so this is what you all get.

Fading Light

Summary: during the events of the Hobbit and the battle for the Mountain, you get injured

Legolas x Reader

There was so much happening. The dwarves defending the mountain, elves and men defending the city of Dale. You had followed the elves and men to the city to try and protect the innocent lives suddenly in the line of fire.

You slashed your way through countless pecs of different sizes. You worked seamlessly with the elven archers to take down the large orcs. Everything was looking up, until you let your guard down and an orc slid its sword across your abdomen.

You killed the orca and slunk down into a small corner to check the damage. Because of your armor. The blade had only pierced a small section. A deep gash rom your left rib to your belly button glistened with fresh blood.

In a moment of adrenaline, you torn off your coat into smaller pieces. You balled up part of it and stuck it into the wound, grinding your teeth in agony. Then using longer pieces, you wrapped it around yourself to keep the leaking blood in.

You looked up towards the Orc command center. Knowing that Legolas was up there, you quickly looked for a way to get up. The bats brought by the orc army slashed through the air with scary speed. You spotted one heading towards you and timed it perfectly to jump and grab its feet.

The creature pulled upward, trying to shake you off, but you pulled on its legs to steer it toward the icy river. Your vision became spotty around the edges from the sudden movement and strain on the open wound. You kept your eyes fixated on the ice below and blinked away the growing darkness.

When the creature got close enough, you let go and fell with a thump to the cold ice. The lack of a jacket let the cold air of the mountain deep into your skin and wound, making you shiver, but you pushed on. You ran toward the horde of goblin mercenaries pouring in where Bilbo lay unconscious and Dwalin fought off as many as he could.

You joined the battle and slashed down orc after orc. You could hear the blades clashing and bricks crumbling from the other areas where battles raged on, but your only focus was on the never ending stream of filthy goblins.

Every time one orc went down, two more appeared over the ridge. The gash on your stomach throbbed in anger every time you lifted your arms to bring your blade down on an orcs head. But the thought of letting these creatures get to not only Bilbo and Dwalin, but the people of Lake-Town, the remainder of the dwarf army, the elven archers and swordsmen, and Legolas.

You fought like there was no tomorrow alongside Dwalin until you wait for another orc to crawl over the ridge of the mountain, and nothing appeared. Dwalin checked beyond the ridge and found no more of the dirty creatures.

With no more Orcs coming towards you, you turn towards the edge of the river and see Legolas. The watchtower that was wedged between the two sides of the waterfall was crumbling under the fierce battle between the pale elf and the pale orc.

As Thorin threw the dead body of an orc of the edge, you watched it hit the center of the tower. The remaining bricks gave way underneath Legolas’s feet. You watched in awe as the elf defied gravity and hoped along the falling stones. Once he made it safely to the other side, he cut down the orc at last.

You were overwhelmed with relief that he was ok. You hoped down onto the frozen river to make it to the other side where stairs led to him, but you cut off by another orc.

The wave of adrenaline that had carried you up until now had started to wear off. Your arms shook with the weight of your blade. Your legs shook and threatened to buckle. Your eyes darted around, unable to focus on one thing at once.

The orc charged at you. It swung its large arm around and knocked you back into the rocks. You landed on your back, gasping for air and groaning in pain. You couldn’t stop now.

You grabbed your sword as the orc ran towards your form again and snapped it up at the last second. The stupid orc ran right into the blade. With what little strength you had left, you pushed the things body off of yourself and stood up. Swaying back and forth, you stumbled across the ice. After finally making it across, you looked back. Thorin was fighting Azog and was loosing.

You had nothing left to give. All your strength was fading by the minute. Looking back between Thorin and the looming fortress. You ran towards the cold towers. It was Thorins fight to win, you reasoned with yourself.

You made it into the halls of the fortress. You supported yourself on the cold stone as you searched the halls. The floor was littered with orc bodies. You climbed over them until you reached the outer part that overlooked Dale and the mountain. You found Legolas staring down at the destruction.

“Legolas!” You called out, grateful to see your elf again.

He turned around surprised. He ran towards you and wrapped you into a tight embrace. You let your weight fall into his arms as the stabbing pain in your stomach became too much.

“Oh thank the stars. I was worried about you. I couldn’t find you at all.” Legolas spoke about his anxieties.

You only took in about half of what he said until your legs could no longer support you. Legolas eased your fall to the ground and kneeled down next you to.

He took in your bloodied and bruised face, and the unnatural paleness of it. His hands roamed over your body attempting to find the source of your pain. You clutched your stomach and groaned in pain.

Legolas lifted your shirt slightly to see your makeshift bandages dripping blood. Your breathing was fast and shallow. You gripped his arm tightly as the piercing cold bit at the open wound.

Legolas cradled your face. “Hang in there y/n” he looked around desperately for someone who could help, but found no one, “help will come, you just need to keep your eyes open and focus on me.”

Worry was all you could see on his face. His normally kind and soft features contorted into that of sadness and panic. The edge of your vision was growing darker and darker. Legolas was talking but it sounded far away. All you could hear was your heart beating in your ears.

As the darkness over took your mind, you saw the shadow of the hawks flying above you. They dragged some orca over the edge of the waterfall in a graceful dance of death. You looked up at Legolas one more time before fully blacking out.

You groggily opened your eyes to be met with the harsh light of day. As your hearing returned, you heard the sea of crying, screaming, talking, and begging around you.

You begrudgingly lifted your head to look around you. You were in Dale, in a large building full of other injured people. You were placed on the ground with only a blanket underneath you. You looked to your left and saw Legolas sitting next you with his hand propping up his head and his eyes closed. His hand cradled your cold hand.

You let your head fall down and gently ran your thumb over the soft skin of Legolas’s hand. The small movement seemed to wake him. He opened his eyes and immediately lit up when he saw you awake. You smiled at him.

“Pretty uncomfortable bed if you ask me. It’s a little bit too hard for my taste.” you joke. His laughs a little and pulls you into a hug, despite your wound screaming in pain. You hugged him back, grateful he was ok.

#legolas x reader #legolas #legolas greenleaf #the hobbit

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maximwtf · 2 years

Text

“I’ve got you.”

Legolas x injured reader

part 2

words: 2284

google docs pages: 5

warnings: injury, mentions of blood, mentions of a wound, pain.

opening: The fellowship’s journey is distured by an orc attack. You get injured while fighting.

AN// Reader can be any gender! This has two of my ideas smushed together because I thought they wouldn’t make a long enough fanfic by themselves :”D! Also I have no idea how the athelas is used so I’m just guessing here.

“I’ve got you.”

The group had stopped moving for the night, and everyone was trying to find a good spot to rest on. A lot more walking would be done tomorrow, and all the rest that was possible to get was important. Though, it wasn’t nighttime yet, so as soon as you had placed down your small bag, your gaze started to follow Merry and Pippin. They had both been complaining about how hungry they were from early on this morning. Now both of them were collecting small sticks and some bigger branches so they could start a small fire. Gimli and Legolas were talking with Aragorn.

You sat down on the ground, still keeping an eye on everyone. You had booked the first nightwatch turn for yourself, so you could just go to sleep after your time was up. You never really liked to be woken up in the middle of the night, only to be told to get up and take the watch post, so this was why everyone just let you take the first watch.

Before you even knew it, the two hobbits had been able to start a fire and were trying to start making something the group could eat. You smiled a little at this. Most of the group had begun to gather around the warm fire. You stood up as well and joined the others, and by doing this you also joined Legolas and Gimli’s conversation about how many kills they had managed to get in their last battle. You had heard both of them shout out the kills they had gotten in the last fight, but little did they know, you had been counting your kills as well so you could surprise them.

The evening went on like that for a while. You had all eaten already and the fire was still up. The area had a lot of trees and there were a lot of sticks laying around because of that, so it was easy to keep the fire going. Of course you couldn’t add too much wood to it because it would attract too much attention. Aragorn and Legolas had dragged a couple of old logs near the fireplace to sit on as well, because the ground was a little cold. The upcoming night seemed right now to be very calm as you had hoped.

Gimli stomped his foot a little on the ground and huffed. “Can the hobbits sing?” He asked, mostly turning to look at Merry and Pippin, since Frodo and Sam weren’t as close by. Merry poked Pippin a little with his elbow. “He can!” Merry then said, not giving his friend much time to answer for himself. “Great. We’ll have something to listen to.” Gimli replied. You turned to look at Pippin, showing him a little thumbs up so he would start. He seemed to have noticed that, because he picked up on the small beat Gimli had started and began to sing. Merry picked up on this as well, and sang some parts with his friend. You watched this happily, but sounds of footsteps got your attention. From the shadows of a tree, Boromir appeared with a few more sticks to keep the fire going for longer. He tilted his head a little at the song Pippin was singing, and laid down the sticks near the fire. “Someone should dance.” He commented in a half serious tone after he had sat down on one of the logs. “You could?” Aragorn suggested it mostly as a joke. “I am a warrior, I do not know any dances.” Boromir quickly replied, his gaze then falling on you. “But Y/n could.” Your eyes widened a little because of his comment. “What makes you think I know any dances?” You replied, tilting your head a little. “In that case, Legolas can assist you. A prince must know a dance or two.” Aragorn spoke up, nudging Legolas towards you while raising a brow. “Shall we try then?” You asked after a moment of thinking. Couldn’t be that hard to follow his steps. “Are you certain?” Legolas asked, a little surprised by your reply. You stood up and nodded.

Legolas offered his hand to you and you took it. “Follow my lead.” He said and then began to lead you. He managed to move smoothly even with you, showing you how to do every step without making it look like you had no idea what you were doing. He spun you around, making you end up close to his face. You looked at his blue eyes, seeing a glimpse of excitement in them. He was looking at you as well, as he lifted you up by the waist and spun you both around one last time before putting you down. After that he bowed at you and smiled slightly. “Was that decent?” Legolas asked. You got a quiet applause from the group. The hobbits were especially excited about this and clapped their hands.

It had started to get darker already, but not so that you couldn’t see anything. The group had started to quiet down a little, so it was easier to hear if anything was approaching. You were still sitting by the fire, Legolas sitting on the other log right next to you. “Can your elven ears hear anything?” You asked with a small smirk on your face. Legolas shook his head a little at your question. “I feel as if something is coming this way. I do not know how many.” He said, then turning to look at you. “How far are they?” You asked him. He didn’t have time to answer because you started to hear the steps as well and they weren’t far away. You looked behind Legolas, and saw orcs running straight at the group. “Shield the hobbits!” You shouted to the group as you stood up swiftly.

You picked up your bow and as the others were gathering the hobbits, you shot a couple of the orcs while moving to shield them as well. You moved around the hobbits a little, shooting some of the orcs while doing so. They began to come so close that you had to ditch the bow and move on to your sword. You didn’t really like closeby combat but you could manage. While fighting off the orcs you could hear Legolas’ arrows go through the air and land a hit. You could also hear the other’s swords clash against the orcs weapons. The group had almost defeated all of the orcs but you had been separated from everyone. You were fighting off two at the same time, and one of them stretched out a bow and pointed it at you. You snarled at this a little, trying to take a step back, but you felt nothing behind you, just a breeze of cold air. The orcs had backed you up to a cliff.

You pushed your sword through the other orc in front of you, but as that one fell the other one was able to release the bow at you. You tried to dodge it the best you could, but the arrow ended up hitting straight at your leg. You whined at this and stumbled on your feet. Your eyes had widened as you looked at the arrow that was coming out of your leg.

You heard a familiar noise of an arrow flying through the air. The orc in front of you roared in pain and fell on their knees before another arrow hit them. The cliff under your feet shook a little at the fall, and that made you stumble off the cliff. You screamed out for anyone who might have been close.

Before you were able to fall too far down, someone grabbed your wrist. “Got you.” A familiar voice said, and started to pull you up. You felt some sand and gravel fall on your face when you let out a deep breath you had been keeping in. After you had realised that Legolas had a good hold of you, you tried to start calming down. You had been sure that you’d fall all the way down but thankfully he had been close enough to hear you. Legolas pulled you up back on the ground, and quickly saw the arrow coming out of your leg. “You’re hurt.” He quickly said, and kneeled in front of you. “Just a little scratch compared to what could have happened, ay?” You tried to laugh a little as you began to stand up. “I’m not sure you’re going to be able to walk like that.” Legolas said and scooped you up in his arms. “You didn’t even let me try?” You huffed, hoping that no one saw you like this.

Legolas carried you to the fireplace that had sadly gone out while the fight. Boromir had thrown a couple of sticks back in, getting Merry and Pippin to try and start the fire again. By now it was quite dark and you couldn't see the forest anymore. Legolas sat you down on the ground and walked off to get Aragorn. You took short breaths as your gaze hit the stick coming from your leg. The sight made you snarl. You heard Aragorn come to you with Legolas. “We need to get that out and the wound shut. Legolas, can you get athelas?” He requested. You frowned at this because you had internally hoped that he would stay as emotional support. Legolas stayed quiet for a moment. “Yes. I’ll be right back.” He said and ran off to get the herb. You turned to look at Aragorn. “Whatever you’re planning on doing, wait until he comes back.” You asked him. He only hummed a little at this as he kneeled in front of you. “We’ll have to cut the arrow in half so it’s easier to pull out. Bite down on your cape.” He replied. “I told you to wait-” You whined before your mouth was blocked by the fabric of your cape. You bit down on it as hard as you could, preparing for the wave of pain that would come soon. Aragorn had taken a hold of the arrow, seemingly planning on cutting it halfway. “Legolas will be here soon.” Aragorn tried to comfort you as he snapped the arrow in half making you close your eyes shut and bite down harder on the piece of clothing. Aragorn threw the piece of wood away and made sure that you didn’t pass out. Before he was able to say anything Legolas had come back. Because of the darkness of the night he had only found a few athelas leaves, but Aragorn seemed to think that they were enough to ease the pain.

You sighed as the first wave of pain had passed. From what you could see Legolas seemed worried? Seeing the reaction you had caused made you smirk a little even though you were in pain. “Legolas, you better hold my hand.” You asked him, trying to hide the fact that you were scared of the pain. You felt him carefully take a hold of your hand as Aragorn took the rest of the arrow’s stick in his hand. “Try to stay awake.” Was all you heard before he used all the force he could to take the arrow out in one go. The piece of cape in your mouth muffled your scream a little as you squeezed Legolas’ hand with the wave of pain. You arched your back as well because of the pain, but tried your best to keep your leg in place. Throwing your head back, you pressed yourself against the ground. Only good thing was that Aragorn seemed to have been able to take out the whole arrow, but now the place it had been in was pooling with blood. “Make sure they don’t pass out.” Aragorn told Legolas as he took out his knife and cut off a piece of his cape. He started to wrap it around the wound so it would stop the bleeding.

Legolas held up your head on his lap, every now and then tapping his palm on your cheek to make sure that you were still awake. He took out the cloth from your mouth and brushed some hair out of your face. Your leg felt like it was pounding and you couldn’t make out what anyone was saying from behind the pain. “Legolas, give them the leaves.” Aragorn said while finishing putting on the wrap. Legolas took the leaves and put them near your mouth. “Chew on them, it eases the pain.” He said calmly. Aragorn stood up and looked at you two for a moment. “I’ll take the first watch.” He commented before walking away. Legolas lifted you up a little, leaning you against him. “You gave me a scare.” He commented. “Just a small one.” You tried to laugh after spitting out the leaves. “Indeed. Just a small one.” He replied before going quiet again. You only hummed as a reply before closing your eyes. “Thank you for saving me earlier.” You decided to say before sleep would overtake you. Legolas’ gaze moved to your face, but he didn’t say anything. He was internally very happy that you were alive, but he did worry. Worry of, if the arrow had had poison on it.

#lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lotr x reader #legolas x reader #lotr legolas #lord of the rings legolas #fanfic #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #the hobbit #x reader fanfic #x reader fanfiction #legolas fanfic #legolas greenleaf #legolas beloved #fanfiction

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wordbunch · 1 year

Text

✨ wordbunch masterlist ✨

Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit

➳ HEADCANONS

➳ multiple characters (x reader)

you’re in the fellowship and the hobbits have a crush on you

how the hobbits look after you when you’re sick

the fellowship reacts to you singing

LOTR characters taking care of an overworked partner

the fellowship meeting their partner’s family

how you look after the hobbits when they’re sick

LOTR/TH characters with an extroverted partner

hobbits with a partner whose love language is physical touch

hobbits ft. cuddles and kisses

the fellowship tries to set you up on a date

how they take care of a sick/injured partner

their love song (taylor swift edition) - LOTR characters

their love song (taylor swift edition) - the hobbit characters

how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked (lotr + th characters)

➳ one character (x reader)

being a ranger with Aragorn

Boromir with a hyper partner who infodumps

➳ multiple characters (no reader)

the fellowship in a college dorm (modern au)

great middle-earth bakeoff (the fellowship)

➳ one character (no reader)

random Pippin headcanons

➳ MULTI-CHAPTER STORIES

“Winter Forest” (Legolas x female reader): part one /// part two /// part three

“One Lifetime With You” (various characters x elf reader): BOROMIR /// FARAMIR

"Hopeless" (Pippin x female reader): part one /// part two

➳ SFW ALPHABETS

Éowyn

Boromir

Éomer

Aragorn

Legolas

Pippin

Frodo

➳ ONE-SHOTS

“better company” (Sam x Reader)

"a little secret" (TH Bilbo x Reader)

The Rings of Power

➳ HEADCANONS

➳ multiple characters (x reader)

how they comfort you when you miss your family (Galadriel, Arondir, Elrond, Celebrimbor, Gil-galad)

their love song (taylor swift edition) - the rings of power characters

➳ one character (x reader)

being in love with Elrond

Elrond getting jealous

rivals to lovers with Elrond

Elrond as a dad

➳ SFW ALPHABETS

Elrond

Galadriel

Isildur

➳ ONE-SHOTS

“reminiscence” (Elrond x Reader)

“perfectly proper” (Elrond x Reader)

“strong, brave, lovely” (Elrond x Reader)

"countertop confessions" (Isildur x Reader)

Random

my re-read of The Hobbit - thoughts

PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING if you enjoyed a fic, so more people can potentially see it!

#masterlist #wordbunch masterlist #lotr imagine #rop imagine #lotr x reader #lotr headcanons #rings of power imagine #rings of power headcanons #lord of the rings #legolas x reader #elrond x reader #from my pocketses #aragorn x reader #boromir x reader

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imagines--galore · 1 year

Text

||A Confession Years in the Making||

Summary: A reunion between two friends, turns to something.....more.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Fluff. A little mention of blood and death. And some kissing in the end.

A/N: @aidansloth and @chocotacobread suggested that I continue this and I couldn’t help myself so here it is!

The battle of Helm’s Deep was won.

It was hard-earned and brutal. So many lives had been lost.

You were one of the few elves that had survived. It had not been easy. The enemy had seen to slaughtering you whatever chance it could get. Yet you had been steadfast and true in your skills as a warrior. You still had so much to live for and one mere battle would not deter you from your true purpose.

Sustaining no life-threatening injuries, you had taken to carrying out other tasks. One of them being searching for survivors amongst those fallen. More then once you had stooped down to carry an injured soldier to the Healing Halls. Your elf strength aided in carrying them, though it didn’t take long for your clothing to be stained with blood and grime from your task. You had removed your armor earlier, or rather what was left of it. You had used several pieces of your armor as ammunition during the battle.

Despite your relatively high level of endurance, you were beginning to tire now. You had not rested after the battle, and now it had been nearly a full day since you had any rest. Before that there had been the long march across Middle-Earth. Suffice to say when Aragorn approached you tell you there was a room where the remaining Fellowship and elves were resting, you were quick to follow him.

Entering the room you were greeted by the sight of several figures slumbering upon the ground underneath warm blankets. You were too exhausted to notice anyone or anything as Aragorn guided you to an empty spot and handed you a blanket and a rough looking pillow. You barely thanked him as you pushed off your boots and outer tunic, revealing the slightly cleaner one underneath. You would’ve preferred a bath but you were just so tired. As soon as you laid down you were asleep, unaware of the elf that lay beside you, lost in his own dreams.

————————-

A warmth enveloped your hand, prompting you to open your eyes, staring sleepily at the eyes of the elf lying beside you. He seemed to have just woken as well, since his own eyes were barely open, yet there was a small smile playing on his lips as he stroked his thumb along the back of your hand. You closed your eyes with a gentle smile, your body subtly moving a little closer to his.

“Thank the Valar you are safe.” He whispered so softly that the words reached no other ears but your own. You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing them softly against his skin. “And I am glad that you are safe as well, Legolas.”

The both of you fell asleep again.

————————-

You had been to countless elven festivities during your lifetime. And those of men was not so different from your own.

There was drinking involved, of course, songs, dance, merriment and laughter. Wherever you looked, you saw families reunited with their loved ones, soldier’s sitting together and remembering their fallen comrades. The Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, as you had been introduced, were dancing on the table. The White Wizard, Mithrandir, was watching amused. He caught your gaze and gave you a warm smile, which you returned. However, your gaze was directed towards a certain elf and his dwarf friend. You navigated your way over to them, amused to see what they were up to.

There seemed to be some sort of drinking competition, you deduced from the many many tankards that were now resting upon the table. As the Prince of Mirkwood appeared from behind a tankard, once he had drained it of course, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Would not be cheating if you were to win? You know their ale cannot effect us.” You whispered to him as you watched Gimli reach for yet another tankard.

Legolas smiled mischievously before pressing a lips to his fingers. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his antics. It didn’t take long for Gimli to promptly keel over and begin snoring as the ale finally got to him. You couldn’t help but laugh at the smug yet unbothered manner in which Legolas stated his victory. “Game Over.”

You patted his arm gently before moving to the unconscious. Together the both of you managed to pick him up and carry him out of the Feasting Halls. Finding the rooms where you would be sleeping, Gimli was deposited there, and after throwing a blanket over him, and listening to him curse at Legolas for winning, though in jest, the two of you stepped out of the room and into the hallway.

The two of you turned your heads to look at one another, before you reached out to clasp his hand within you own and began to lead him down the hall. Past the crowd of happy people and out into the cool evening air. The both of you stood next to one another, hands still clasped. The silence seemed to stretch on and on, yet it was one of comfort.

“I did not think we would survive.” You finally spoke, allowing a slight tremble to your voice as you did. Legolas nodded. “There was a moment I thought as such as well.” He responded. If it had not been for Mithrandir and Éomer’s timely arrival they would have been overwhelmed quickly by the enemy.

“We elves tend to not think about death, given that were are immortal.” You turned so you could face him. “But during the battle, watching our kinsmen fall, I realized we are just as vulnerable as Man.” He gave your hand a light squeeze as if in reassurance. Your gaze flickered to your joined hands and raised them between the two of you. You lifted your other hand as well as you began to play with his fingers, and drawing patterns against his palm. “And though I had resolved to tell you even before the battle of how I felt, I realized I should’ve done it a long long time ago.”

You finally looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears to see a storm of emotions darkening his gaze. Yet he looked at you so tenderly. You had never seen him look that way before, though little did you know, over the years, when your gaze had been fixed on something else, he had looked at you with that expression quite often.

“I suppose it was a mistake on both our parts, to keep something from one another for so long.” He finally said, reaching up with his other hand to push some of your hair behind your pointed ear. The wind was blowing softly, allowing strands of your hair to dance in the breeze. You had borrowed a dress from Lady Éowyn for the occasion, but it hardly mattered to Legolas what you wore. You looked just as beautiful as you did after the battle at Helm’s Deep. His hand lingered at your ear, fingertips only barely brushing against the pointed tip. The sensation prompted you to inhale a shuddering breath, unable to look away from him.

“Shall we promise never to do that again?” You asked, clasping his hands in both of yours, stepping closer to him as you did. The scent of pine and wood enveloped you completely as you drew comfort from simply being in his presence. He gave a small nod of confirmation, his hand cupping the side of your face as he drew you even closer.

“I promise, never to keep a secret from you Y/N, again.” You had been expecting his lips to meet yours. Your eyes had closed, which was why you were a little surprised when he passed your mouth completely. “And here is my final secret.” He finally stopped a mere breath away from your ear as he whispered his final secret, his final undoing. His breath was warm against your skin. His closeness and scent was making your head spin, and yet you had never felt so grounded, so alive before.

A shy yet delighted smile stretched across your features as your body leaned against his completely and you turned your head to whisper your final secret to him as well.

The promise the two of you made that night was sealed with an embrace that was both passionate yet gentle. His lips found yours at the same time yours found his. There was no denying that whatever spark there had been between the two of you only seemed to shine brighter as you kissed. It had always been there, but this would be the first time you were both allowing yourself to explore for the first time.

You pulled back from the kiss, your nose brushing against his for a moment. You opened your eyes to see him looking back at you, and the emotion that lay within urged you to fuse your lips together once more. The first kiss had been soft and gentle, this was anything but.

With a hand at the back of your head, Legolas tilted your head slightly to allow him to better slant his lips against yours. The slight shift had him making the kiss even deeper.

You poured every ounce of love and devotion into the embrace, trying to convey the depth of your feelings to him. Legolas seemed matched your pace perfectly, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands stroking along the length of your back. Your hands were occupied with his hair, before roaming down to his shoulders.

He was the one who pulled back this time, taking satisfaction at your breathlessness the blush across your cheeks. “No more secrets?” He asked, as his thumb ran along the bottom of your lower lip. You shook your head. “No more secrets.”

You pulled him back down, your giggle at his startled expression muffled as your lips met once more.

#legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas x oc #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine

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buckyalpine · 2 years

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Bookmark

18+ minors dni

Bucky x f reader

Okay I love this so much, I tweaked the idea a little because I thought it’d be interesting if the team had no idea the reader is a writer and they are so caught off guard when reading. @slutforsexyseabass and @cherryschaos you are both brilliant.

Warnings: SMUUUT (Bucky is a horny warning) fluffff

Word count: 2.1k

“What are you guys doing”

Bucky walked into the unusually quiet living room, the team gathered together, all engrossed in the same book. It was supposed to be movie night but it appeared they had different plans tonight.

“Wanda was reading this and got us all hooked” Nat smirked, handing Bucky a copy. “Kept talking about how good it is so I grabbed a couple of them”

“The last book I read was the hobbit” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, inspecting the dark red book cover, the image of red tousled silk sheets. The title was written in gold “Mistress”. He bit his lip, holding back a smirk, he might have lied there. He had definitely read all of your books.

“Well you should expand your horizons tin man, this might not be the hobbit but…” Tony smirked, whistling when he started reading the next chapter, his eyes growing wide as the scene got more intense. “All I can say is whoever wrote this has one lucky husband”

Damn right Bucky snorted, momentarily leaving the room to grab a drink while you made your way downstairs. You squeaked when you entered the living room, seeing the team all reading a copy of your book. One of those books. Shit.

4 years ago

Bucky groaned as he flopped onto his bed, his muscles sore from the last mission. He had been forced to take some time from missions after getting injured though he wasn’t a fan of just lying in bed. He looked at the books you had on your bedside table, a few you had taken from the library; the rest ones you had written.

He’d only found out you were a writer after you got married; you’d kept it a secret until then, but he had no idea why. You went under a pen name for all your books, dabbling in a variety of genres but most of your stories were romance novels. Between missions and training, he never actually got a chance to sit down and read one of your books.

What better time than now…

He picked up the book sitting on top of the pile; the book cover was an image of dark green silk. Title “Envy”

Bucky wasn’t exactly a romance novel enthusiast but he was curious about his sweet little wife’s work. He started reading was engrossed within the first few pages, you were brilliant no doubt, he really had no idea why you’d keep your identity a secret.

A few chapters later

He wasn’t sure how he ended up in his position, his cock in his hand, cum covering his stomach, panting while his eyes skimmed over each word; all the scene’s were too familiar. He’d already came twice but it was too good, he was hard again with each chapter. He fisted his cock faster, the main character was exactly like him, in love with his girl, thought of her as his angel. He took care of her in every way possible; spoiling her with all the love he could give. He was a menace like him, railing her any chance he got, never satisfied enough, always looking for more. Each scene was definitely something he had done with you, Bucky couldn’t keep his moans down anymore, squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon, he was able to imagine each scene with you in it. He was so lost in pleasure and fantasies; he didn’t notice hear the door open.

You gasped, seeing your husband with his sweats pulled down, stroking his cock while he was reading your book, sweat beading at his forehead, his eyes glossy.

“Bucky?” Bucky nearly whimpered seeing you, setting the book down, his hand still stroking his cock up and down.

“Baby…” His voice was raspy, his breaths heavy while you walked over to him, sitting by his side. He pulled you to straddle him, his cum getting you just as messy and you loved it.

“You’ve been busy solider…” You purred, sucking some of his arousal off his fingers, still a little shy that Bucky had read one of your spicier books; you were hoping to ease him into your more risky works later.

“Not as busy as you” Bucky smirked, groaning when you wrapped your hand around his length, teasing him. “Wonder where you get your ideas from baby”

“Hmm, I wonder” You whispered, pulling his pants all the way off, laying in front of him. “Keep reading baby”

Bucky let out a shuddered breath while he continued to flip the pages, your tongue teasing his balls, before taking the tip in your mouth, licking across the slit to taste his arousal.

“Oh f-fuckk” His eyes rolled back, struggling to focus on the words on the page along with his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Gonna cum y/n, I’m gonna cum”

You shook your head, pulling off him with a pop, squeezing the base of his cock, your tongue giving him little kitten licks on his sensitive head.

“Not yet, you’re not even at the best chapter yet baby”

Present

“W-where did you get that”

The team looked up at you, while you tried to hide your surprise, your heart racing seeing all of them have a copy of your most recent release.

“We started reading it last week; it’s such a good book, no one’s been able to put it down” Nat gushed, not even bothering to look at you, her eyes still on the page she was reading.

“ It’s definitely something, it’s even got me sweating” Tony snorted, but it really wasn’t funny, he had to excuse himself a few times. “You should read it, not sure if it’d be too adventurous for you though. Capsicle has had to pause between pages but he hasn’t stopped reading”

“Shut up” Steve grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide the ache between his legs.

You didn’t say a word, quietly taking a seat and flipping through the pages as if it were the first time you were seeing the book while the team continued to read.

“Wonder if they’ve written any other books, if I had known this is what’s out there, I would have invested in a larger library”

“What’s the author’s name?”

“Y/P/N”

“Huh. y/p/n sounds so similar to y/n’s name”

“The guy in the story reminds me soo much of Bucky”

“Oh my God YES! I swear there was one line he said that’s exactly what Barnes says to y/n sometimes”

Your eyes grew wide, your heart beating faster watching the team slowly connect the dots.

“Hold on. y/p/n also has the same letters as as y/n’s name”

The team turned to look at you while you smiled sheepishly, shrugging and giggling to yourself.

“Y/n…”

“YOU ACTUALLY WROTE THIS?!!”

You nodded, while Tony got up from his seat, setting the book down, there was no way. Steve flipped back a few chapters; his eyes growing wide trying to take in you were the creator of those spicy chapters. Nat and Wanda squealed, jumping up and down, while Sam cackled.

“Its so fucking good, where the hell do you get your ideas from?!”

“Hmm, I really like mystery so I try to pair that up with the romantic story lines, adding a little darkness in there to keep it interesting”

Bucky sauntered back in, unbelievably proud of his wife, wrapping his arm around you while he sat down. He kissed your cheek while Tony stared at you both wide eyed, before shaking his head.

“Okay. I have to ask. The story line is great, it really is but…where’d you get the inspiration to write those scenes” The team hummed in agreement, no one openly commenting on how their hearts were collectively racing as if they had been training, flustered beyond belief. You bit your lip, blinking at Bucky, those scenes were not just “inspired”, no. They were word for word, play by play recounts of your sexy times with your even sexier husband. Bucky smirked while you shied away, now it was his time to shine.

“The first scene was from the living room when all of you left for that conference in Bucharest”

Bucky recounted how he had been waiting to have his way with you without having to worry about making too much noise. As soon as the compound was empty, he took you right there in the living room, all clothes thrown off, right on the plush rug. His cock slammed into you relentlessly, making you cry and cum until you couldn’t move. He had to carry you upstairs and run you a hot bath, massaging your sore body afterwards. He spent the night making love to you slowly, just taking his time to feel your body under his, moaning for you and cumming for you over and over again.

“The office scene was from after that mission we had in New York”

You were trying to finish the last of your mission report in the office, sitting in one of the rooms to get your work done. What started off as Bucky paying you a quick visit turned into him keeping his face buried between your legs until tears were streaking your face. He sucked and licked your clit, making you cum on his face until his beard was soaked in your slick.

“T-too much Bucky, it’s too sensitive”

“But you taste soo good baby, I just-” He dipped his tongue into you before giving your clit a gentle tug with his lips, “Fuck I can’t stop baby, don’t wanna stop”

His cock was in his fist, edging himself, his hand going down to play with his balls while he kept your thighs on his shoulders while you sat on the office chair.

“Pussy’s so soft baby, so good, such a pretty clit for daddy to play with”

“Daddy please”

“Shh, just one more okay baby?”

“Then the scene from the kitchen is because the bedroom ended up destroyed”

“You said the bedroom got destroyed from an attack”

“I lied”

The headboard cracked under Bucky’s grip, his thrusts unrelenting as he continued to pound into you. Honestly, Bucky was surprised the floor hadn’t given way with how the bed scraped on the floor each time he fucked into you, thank fuck for the pipes and structural beams.

“f-fuck daddy” You sobbed, your voice muffled as he pressed your face further into the matters, nearly growling watching his hips snap against your ass.

“How about you make me a daddy baby, let me fuck this pussy raw”

You let out the most obscene moan, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. You nearly came just from his words.

“You like that baby? You want me to put a baby in you?”

“Put a baby in me daddy” You cried, biting down onto the pillow, gasping when you felt him pull out.

“Oh fuck” Bucky’s eyes rolled back, pulling out of you to rip the condom off before inching his cock back inside. He moaned, not giving a fuck if others heard him or not, the feeling of his bare cock rubbing against your silky walls was better than he imagined. “Baby….baby you feel so fucking good”

You were too fucked out to respond, moaning back instead while Bucky got lost in his own world. He flipped you around so could look at you, pounding you at an animalistic pace, nearly sobbing at how sensitive his cock felt.

“Gonna knock you up baby, you’re gonna be such a pretty mommy”

You clung onto him, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He started to fuck you faster, the bed starting to rattle before the 4 posts holding it up gave way. You gasped when you felt it fall to the floor but you couldn’t focus on the broken bed when Bucky’s cock continued to thrust into you, his pace unfaltering.

“So.Fucking. Tight” Bucky groaned into your shoulder feeling warmth spreading through his body, tension building at the base of his cock. “Gonna cum y/n, m’gonna get you pregnant baby, fuckfuckfuck I’m cumming baby, oh fuck-

You cried out, cumming when you felt him fill you up, his hand snaking down to play with your clit, fucking you through your high. He kept his cock in you the entire night, not wanting a drop to spill out. Bucky was insatiable after that night. He fucked you in every room and every surface available, one of his favourite places to fuck you being the dining table. Right on top. With you laid on, completely naked.

The team stared at you both with their jaws on the floor, eyes like dinner plates. Bucky continued to sip his drink while you were practically hiding in his lap, this was truly one of his proudest moments.

“Isn’t my wife brilliant”

He broke them out of their trance, all of them slowly nodding, still trying to piece together how all this had happened with them not having a clue. Steve was the first to speak out.

“So when’s the next part coming out”

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @peaches1958 @kingfleury @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @samfreakingwinchester

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jasmines-library · 6 months

Text

MISC MASTERLIST

Everything else:

Total Works: 7

Last Updated: 31/10/23 or 10/31/23

⛤ MASTERLIST ⛤

⛤ You’ll Be Okay

(Injury, blood, Impalement)

⛤ Baby It’s cold outside

(Whumptober: Hypothermia)

⛤ Poisoned heart

(Title says it all)

⛤ Just forget about it

(Whumptober: conditioning)

⛤ 14 Years

(Whumptober: Experimentation)

⛤ Hold me Tight

(Whumptober: Fear of abandonment)

⛤ Spinning out

(Whumptober: Drowning)

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sotwk · 1 year

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Last updated: 3/15/24. Newest entry is marked.

Welcome to my Masterlist! I write exclusively for Tolkien, specifically the LotR and The Hobbit series.

For more information about my writer preferences and specialties, please refer to my Fanfiction Request Guidelines.

All my works are also posted in my Ao3 Account.

Sins of Our Fathers (Thranduil x OC Elvenqueen - ongoing series - Second Age 1358) Over the course of a century, Thranduil and Maereth meet and develop a friendship that is destined to become Mirkwood's greatest love story. In Progress.

The Crown (Thranduil x OC Elvenqueen - one-shot - Second Age 3441) Thranduil’s queen comforts him as they prepare on the evening of his coronation. Completed.

A Stab to the Heart (Thranduil & Royal Family - 2-part fic - Third Age 1012) The Elvenqueen is injured in a surprise orc attack, and Thranduil gathers their sons to discuss the ramifications. In Progress.

Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm (Thranduil & Royal Family - 12-part fic - various years, Third Age) Collection of 12 ficlets in chronological order; stories of Yuletide celebrations in the Woodland Realm through the eyes of Thranduil and his family. In Progress.

Greenleaf's Tree (Child Legolas & Thranduil - one-shot - Third Age 248) Six-year-old Legolas goes on royal progress with Thranduil for the first time. Completed.

Greenleaf’s Day Out (Child Legolas & Family - Complete Series - Third Age 250) On a single day in 8-year-old Legolas’s life, he shares bonding moments with each of his 4 older brothers. 6 Chapters. Completed. Full work on AO3.

Unnecessary Guardian (Legolas x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 1254) Legolas wants to guard his friend in her new role as a Mirkwood Spiderhunter. Completed.

The Best Gift (Legolas x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 556) Legolas wishes a "dear friend" a Joyous Begetting Day--but anonymously. Completed.

Transformed (Gelir x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 1554) A Mirkwood huntress is attacked by a dark beast and begins a slow and gradual transformation into a monster herself. Completed.

The Baker from Lórien (Haldir & OC Mother - one-shot- Third Age 246) A visitor from Lórien brings some excitement to the kitchens of the Elvenking's palace. Completed. [New!]

Dandelions (Boromir x she/her - one-shot - Third Age 3015) Boromir brings flowers to his lady love. Completed.

Breathe (Boromir x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 3008) You have harbored a deep, secret crush on Boromir for years, and have now been asked by him to dance. Completed. (Will be continued in an upcoming long fic.)

Taken (Eomer x Reader - 3-part fic - Third Age 3019) A shield-maiden learns her hidden love for the Marshal of her Eored, now the King of Rohan, may not be unrequited as she had always assumed. Completed.

The Broken Shield (Thorin & Frerin - one-shot - Third Age 2791-2799) The young Princes of Erebor forge a surprising alliance with the Elves of Mirkwood to fight together in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. Entry to the Thorin's Spring Forge 2023 event. Completed.

The Task of Living (Thorin x Reader - one-shot - Third Age 2943) The re-throned King of Erebor returns to his former village in Dunland, seeking the woman he has loved since long ago. Completed.

The Only Gold (Fili x OC) - ongoing series - Third Age 2941) Fili, heir presumptive of Erebor, befriends a mysterious elf-maiden during the Company's sojourn at Rivendell. Their bond will shift the courses not just of their individual destinies, but that of their peoples. In Progress.