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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

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You can find all of them here, and I will absolutely ;).

Blue Moon

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (movies) Ship/Pairing: Eomer x Reader (one mention of reader wearing a dress) Trope: Noble x Humble worker Note: IT’S SOTWK’s FAULT. We talked about Eomer’s hands and here we are. The title « Blue Moon » is a reference to the song « Blue Moon », my favourite rendition being sung by Ella Fitzgerald. Warnings: Horses? Word count: 1 595 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

There was something hypnotising about his hands.

The way his palm moved along the planes of the horse’s back. They were delicate. Deliberate in their care for the animal. Several times today, you had caught your gaze lingering a little too long on his slender fingers and their dexterity. Several times you had wondered what they’d feel like against your skin, in your hair weaving braids during a quiet evening. Those were fairy tales. You did not dwell on them, even when it kept you up at night; heat clinging to your skin, the chilly wind doing nothing to help your wandering mind.

It seemed to appease his uneasy nature to come here. He would go in the early hours of the day, only to come back in the middle of the morning. To the outside world, he was a leader. Someone they could trust and follow into depths unknown. Here, he was only Eomer. You considered yourself lucky to have witnessed both.

Others were concerned by his willingness to spend so much more time with you instead of them. You had dismissed them easily enough, but the thought had lingered. Why was he only asking you to help him? A bucket, water, hay, a brush for the horse’s mane. You were not willing to fathom an answer, especially if it was the wrong one. Seeing him like this it made you happy enough. You were content with this, whatever this was.

From time to time, he would ask about your day and you would always answer the same things. Fine and good. Excellent, perfect or grand. Never would you have said what you wanted to say. That it was him who made those days fine, and good and excellent and perfect and grand. Until meeting him, working with horses had been your life’s dream, and you were fulfilled by it. When he was there, you weren’t so sure anymore. It felt as if all of him was completing what you had and did not know you were missing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Barely above a whisper, his question lingered in the air between the two of you, almost as if he had not meant to ask it aloud. He was still working his fingers through the hair, looking beyond the horse’s back, away from you. If he had looked at you, you could have traced a lingering hint of a pinkish hue on his cheeks.

A chilly breeze rose, and you had to tighten the cloth around your shoulder, crossing your arms close to your chest.

“Nothing important, Sire.”

A laugh echoed through the wooden box around you.

“Then why are you boring a hole in my skull with your staring?”

Your cheek felt warmer than they had been moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, sire. If you need me to go, I… — No. Stay.”

Eomer had not meant for his voice to grow this loud. Nor to turn around so abruptly. The nerves in him, electrified by your eyes, led him to act so.

It had grown almost suddenly, this affection he had for you. First, you were something to behold. Once he discovered your face, your features, the way you moved and talked, he only ever wanted you to be near him when the mask fell off. When he could be himself and not who he was supposed to be. Second, you never pressured him into talking, going silent for hours on end, just being there with him and Lia. She was not his usual horse. He preferred not to overexert Firefoot, especially after the events he had seen on the battlefields. You were the one to care for her when he could not, even before he started mounting her. The mare had a gentler temper, dark robe and larger body. She adored you and if instincts served him right, animals were always the true tellers of someone’s nature. Thirdly, and lastly, your presence calmed him like no one else could. Except when you were threatening to leave. Or when you were looking at him, behind his back. He never wanted you to stop looking at him like that. When your eyes were observing and kind on him, his weary body and his weary mind, he felt that he could take on another thousand wars just to find you here again, safe and sound, watching him. He only hoped you could say the same about him.

“As you wish, Sire.”

The goosebumps on your arms and the way you protected yourself from the cold struck him then. With the winds of winter approaching, the weather had gone incredibly cold, and you were only wearing a thin linen above your usual dress and robes. He stepped out of the box, coming closer to you as he’d ever been. He grabbed for a cover lying around. Those were used for the horses but they’d have to do. He wrapped it around you, as tight as he could. It smelled of the stables and hay. A hint of pink shattered across his cheekbones in the morning lights. Your breaths were leaving your lips in hot clouds between you. The way he settled his palms on your shoulders, securing the cloth around you, drove a whole different kind of shiver down your spine. You could feel his fingers over the fabric, his overexerted hands catching some threads, before he took them off you, gently. You could not help the sharp inhale you took when he did.

“Would not want you freezing to death on my account.”

His smile did not reach his eyes, but you felt the warmth it procured you down to your toes. At a loss for words, you smiled in return, trying to hide your face. Your arms were still secured against your chest but your heart was not as protected as you had hoped it would be.

In a thoughtless step, Eomer leaned down and brought his lips to your cheek. He could feel the burn of them under his skin. The way you looked up at him, bewildered and hopeful, brows knitted together in confusion, only made his mouth ache for more. Still, he would not do it unless you said so. He had already overstepped and behaved un-gallantly enough. Hence his surprise when he found your hands gripping at his lapel, obviously not willing to let him go. A soft curve graced his mouth, a pleasant feeling growing in him.

“Can I…?”

Your vigorous nodding let him know exactly what he wanted. Only then did he pull you closer, his hands drawing you in, the warmth you felt from his lips and the tenderness with which his fingers nestled against your jaw below your ears, enough to make you forget about the world around. Delicately, his mouth danced with yours, eager to please and swift to do so. Soon, his wide hand drew you in, pulling you at the waist. Your fingers met his heart through cloth and flesh and bones, beating in a rhythm only known to you both.

“I…”

You bit your lip while you could see him observing you through hooded eyes, his fingertips sending shivers down your arms. He was tracing the hollow of your cheek with his knuckles, leaving you breathless once more. He looked as if he had seen the most marvellous creature in the entire world. You could not believe it was you on the other end of that fantasy.

“I… do not know what to say… I… — Then you don’t need to say anything.”

His fingers found their way down the length of your throat. He looked positively charmed, yet you pulled back, hesitant. What if this had been… just a fling? Just something he could do, just because he wanted to. No other reason. No feelings involved. What if he was playing with you?

“I will. — What?”

He chuckled at your incredulous expression.

“I will say something. — Oh.”

He brought you back to him again, kissing your cheek.

“I…” He kissed your nose. “…will never…” your other cheek. “…ever…” Your fingertips now. “…let you…” This was getting on your nerves and he knew it, smirking behind your hand. “…be seen by anyone else but me, in this state.”

The last words murmured against your cheek, to the shell of your ear, elicited a burning anticipation deep in your bones.

“My King, I would never ever let anyone but me see you in this state. — I don’t think anyone had ever really seen me before you.”

His candid answer surprised you. In a tender caress, he stroked your back through the fabrics of your clothes, not thick enough to keep his touch at bay. A thumb ventured below your breast, too close to be accidental. You inhaled sharply.

“And I will never let anyone else see me like this. If you’ll have me, of course.”

His declaration hit your heart at an arrow’s speed.

“You really mean that? I’m not just a… — You’re not just anything. You are the world and beyond. You are everything. I hope to be everything to…”

Before he could finish, you pulled him down for another kiss. This one arousing and passionate; desires trapped, finally meeting in the middle.

“I will. I absolutely will.”

A heartbeat passed in his arms, trying to keep your hands to yourselves.

“You were asking me to… — … court and eventually marry you? Yes. And you said yes, you cannot take it back now.”

Your laughter rang through him as it rang through the stables, enlightening the new day ahead.

#konartiste

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Note

Thank you, thank you, thank you :D

For the AU-gust Mashup:

Fili x Reader + Fairytale + “Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

No pressure at all! Thank you in advance for considering the request! <3

Words

Fandom: Lord of The Rings - The Hobbit Ship/Pairing: Fili x Reader Trope: Fairy Tale - Curse Note: Prompt is in the ask. Thanks @sotwk I don't have the occasion to write for Fili near enough. SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE. Warnings: Curse, losing your voice, not being able to communicate, near death experience. Word count: 1 954 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

The summer had barely begun when you met him. At first, you thought he was an illusion. A trick of your mind. Clear eyes, blonde hair. He’d carried himself just like you thought he would. The Crowned Prince, they called him. He had introduced himself as Fili. Nothing more. He came and went to your stand in the marketplace. Over the course of a few months, he had come to be a vital presence in your life. Just as you did in his.

Nonetheless, none of you would speak of it aloud. In your mind only, could he hold you in his arms, could he be with you. The status was one thing. The other was how people called you: the witch. Fili would never refer to you in such a way. He once called you a “soft-spirited soul who could cure any wound”. It had made your heart beat so fast you thought he would surely see the beats on your skin. The knowledge you had, you gained from experience. You cultivated the herbs and made the concoction. It was common knowledge, yet it was not as widely used as you thought it should be. On occasions, some people would come to you for more than just healing. For a kind ear and a cup of ale. That was why it did not surprise you when the tall and grand man came, in his white robes and equally beautiful staff. He did not say his name but you would remember his face forever. An intricate affair of wrinkles and bones showing under his skin. It was as if he’d been taunt over an overused canvas. You had seen worse ugliness, worse gnarly members, deformed by arthritis. It was nothing new and you thought nothing of it.

“What may I help you with tonight, traveller?”

His robe was stained on the hems, earth and what you assumed was crusted mud over it. He did not move, only following your movement across the room with intent. His lips seemed to be moving, but no sound came out of them. Uneasy, you sat down and offered a cup of warm tea, just brewed. He stayed motionless.

“You look just like her, you know? — What?”

The jolt almost made you knock over your tea. The last time someone compared you to anyone else was when your grandmother was alive. Could he have known her?

“You like just like your grandmother…” He stepped into your space, closing in on you. A chill ran down your spine. “The same eyes, the same face, those same treacherous lips…” He grabbed onto your chin, a harsh grip forcing you into meeting his eyes. You were so scared you did not dare move a muscle. “And you will pay for her lies and her filthy words.”

He released you, your body meeting with the floor in a violent attempt at getting away from him. His staff pointed at you, he mumbled incoherent words. Then some all too coherent ones.

“I hereby punish you, blood of the blood of the affront. I punish you to never find your words again. You shall not speak until someone confesses their love for you. Only if they do and you love them in return, the curse shall be lifted. A day and a night you shall have before the words strangle you. Hear my wrath, blood of the blood and know your time to be shortened.”

A maniacal laugh echoed through the room, white and grey smoke sneaking through the door. You raised your head and he was gone, heaps of smoke the only sign he was there at all.

The next morning, you were mute.

———— It had taken a heavy toll on you. People could not understand why from one day to the next, your voice had gone out. The weather could not explain it. You couldn’t any more.

The Crowned Prince chose that day to show up.

“Hello.”

The smile you offered was not enough. He wondered what he could have done to deserve this thin lipped, excuse of a smile. You were always so quick to smile brightly, even in the early hours of the morning.

“Are you not going to say it back?”

He rose an eyebrow, more out of curiosity than animosity. You tried. You really, really tried to tell him. But the client were growing impatient and the line was growing thick behind him. Upon seeing you interact with them, Fili realised you were not choosing not to answer. You could not. In an impulse, he jumped over the stand and joined you behind.

“Hello, good sir, what might we do for you today?”

The dandy man blinked once. Twice, his eyes going from you to Fili before choosing to ignore the fact that the future heir to the kingdom was now selling herbs and creams on the market. You could not stop him even if you had wanted to. Before you could try to intervene, he had already taken it upon himself to help you. He pushed you back and sat you down on your chariot. He did not stop, not for one minute. The whole morning he served and listened sometimes turning to you for confirmation. You intervened once or twice, and that was that. When the line was gone, he turned to you.

“Now. How did you lose your voice?”

A real worry started to gain his face, even with his signature confident air he could not fool anyone. Not even you. His eyes started studying you, as if your face could tell him what had happened.

“Did you catch a cold?”

You shook your head and sighed. This was going to be impossible to explain. Suddenly, you sprung to your feet grabbing his hand. If he had been in his right mind, he would have stuttered and crumbled internally at that. Luckily he wasn’t and merely blushed when you did. Your hands were showing him something.

“Something to write?”

Excitedly, you nodded. He pulled a piece of paper and a charcoal out of his pocket and handed them to you. In quick words, you explained the situation to him. As he read on, his heart kept sinking. He knew his attachment to be love. Fili had known for quite some time. Regardless, if you did not feel the same then it was a doomed story. The deadline was growing closer as each moment passed and he was losing his mind. He kept pacing trying to find another way out of it. There was none. Even if he had gone to Gandalf - the sorcerer of the Kingdom - it would be too late before he’d come up with a solution. His only hope was to tell you how he felt. In the hopes that maybe, you would not reject him. If not, he’d make your last day a feast and a paradise. The grief, he could deal with on his own after. He’d done it before.

In a whisper and an extended hand, he called you to him. Hesitantly you took his hand and his heartbeat accelerated.

If only he knew. His face told you everything. You could see his resolution disappear with every passing moment. He had no solution. So, he did not love you in the end and the dreams you had about living together were just dreams. You almost cried when he pulled you in, embracing you in his arms, his warmth. He could not look at you and you could not blame him for it.

“It’s time I told you…”

You held your breath, a deep sigh shaking him. He took your face in his hands, gentle and tender. You were now face to face.

“I am afraid that all those months I have deceived you.”

Your heart sank again and as you struggled in his hold, he stopped you.

“Let me finish, please.”

You nodded, tearful sobs already on the edge of your lips.

“I have not been honest. From the very first time we met, I knew. I knew I would come to love you. I did not stop it. I knew our stations would not match. It didn’t bother me. It still doesn’t. I don’t care if you don’t love me back. I need you hear this…”

Tears ran down your cheeks. He had to be lying. He had to be. How could he say such lies when you were in this deadly situation? How could he toy with you like this. Again, you struggled against his hold and he gripped your shoulders. Through the cloths his heat was both a fast poison and powerful balm.

“Just look at me. Forget everything else. Forget where we are. Just listen to me.”

You did. You looked at him and his sea-coloured eyes. A deep feeling of content took root inside of you. Maybe if you were to die by tomorrow, enjoying him was not the worst thing you could be doing right now. So you did as he said and focused on his voice, his eyes, his neatly braided beard. Your fingertips combed gently through it and it made him stutter for a moment.

“I love… No. I adore you. You will not die today, I will not allow it. Never will I allow it. You cannot leave me like this. There were shadows in me before, now there’s only your light. Yours and no one else. How you did it, I will never know but I love you. I love you, and I will always love you until the end of time… —I love you too.”

Your voice croaked as if it had been unused for years. It startled both of you. An immense joy washed over you and you jumped into his arms, breathing him in, basking in his warmth. He held on to you so tight, it was sure to leave marks. You felt the ground as he put you back down. The surrounding market was unchanged, but you were. He looked at you dead in the eye, a mere centimetre from your face.

“Never, ever, do that again. —No promises.”

You laughed and squealed when he mumbled about “promises” and “worried sick” and you being the death of him one day. Quickly, in between two rants you pulled him to you and kissed him. He continued on for a while before he realised what had happened and kissed you in return. He pulled you to him agaiyou put your hands in his hair as the kiss deepened.

People around you, were sure to have something to talk about the next day.

On the other hand, you would choose to be nowhere else but right there in his arms.

All their words be damned.

#reactions #bookworm with coffee

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Note

You're so sweet ! xD

For the AU-gust Mashup:

Fili x Reader + Fairytale + “Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

No pressure at all! Thank you in advance for considering the request! <3

Words

The summer had barely begun, when you met him. At first, you thought he was an illusion. A trick of your mind. Clear eyes, blonde hair, he’d carried himself just like you thought he would. The Crowned Prince, they called him. He had introduced himself as Fili. Nothing more. He came and went to your stand on the market place. Over the course of a few months, he had become a vital presence in your life. Just as you did in his.

To your agony, none of you would speak of it aloud. In your mind only, could he hold you, could he be with you. The status was one thing. The other was how people called you: the witch. Fili would never refer to you in such a way. He once called you a “soft-spirited soul who could cure any wound”. It had made your heart beat so fast you thought he would surely see the beats on your skin. But, the herbs you used and the unguents? It was common knowledge, yet it was not as widely used as it should have been. It was considered a women’s trade first and then was replaced completely by modern medicine. They did not keep your stall empty though. Even, on occasions, some people would come to you for more than just healing. For a kind ear and a cup of ale. That was why it did not surprise you when the tall and grand man came, in his white robes and equally beautiful staff. He did not say his name but you would remember his face forever. An intricate affair of wrinkles and bones showing under his skin. It was as if he’d been taunt over an overused canvas. You had seen worse ugliness, worse gnarly members, deformed by arthritis or unfair accidents. It was nothing new and you thought nothing of it.

“What may I help you with tonight, traveller?”

His robe was stained on the hems, earth and what you assumed was crusted mud over it. He did not move, only following your movements across the room with intent. His lips seemed to be moving, but no sound came out of them. Uneasy, you sat down and offered a cup of warm tea, just brewed. He stayed motionless.

“You look just like her, you know? — What?”

The jolt almost made you knock over your tea. The last time someone compared you to anyone else was when your grandmother was alive. Could he have known her? Or was he toying with you?

“You like just like your grandmother…” He stepped into your space, closing in on you. A chill ran down your spine. He had known her then. “The same eyes, the same face, those same treacherous lips…” He grabbed onto your chin, a harsh grip forcing you into meeting his eyes. You were so scared you did not dare move a muscle. “And you will pay for her lies and her filthy words.”

He released you, your body meeting with the floor in a violent attempt at getting away from him. His staff pointed at you, he mumbled incoherent words. Then, some all too coherent ones.

“Blood of the blood of my enemy, I hereby punish you. For your grandmother broke my heart with her words and it will break yours too! You will remain speechless, until someone confesses their love for you. Only if they do and you love them in return, the curse shall be lifted. A day and a night you shall have before the words strangle you. Hear my wrath, blood of the blood and know your time to be shortened.”

A maniacal laugh echoed through the room, white and grey fog sneaking through the door. You raised your head and he was gone, heaps of smoke the only sign he was there at all.

The next morning, you were mute.

———— It had taken a heavy toll on you. People could not understand why from one day to the next, your voice had gone out. The weather could not explain it. You couldn’t any more either.

Of course, Fili chose that day to show up. He did not exactly chose, for it was the first time in weeks he had managed to have some free time. Naturally, he arranged to come and see you.

“Hello.”

The smile you offered was…odd. Uneasy. He wondered what he could have done to deserve this thin lipped, excuse of a smile. You were always so quick to smile brightly, even in the early hours of the morning, eyes stinging with the last remnants of sleep.

“Are you not going to say it back?”

He rose an eyebrow, more out of curiosity than animosity. You tried. You really, really tried to tell him. But the clients were growing impatient and the line was growing thick behind him. Upon seeing you interact with them, gestures and half guessed prices, Fili realised you were not choosing not to answer. You could not. In an impulse, he jumped over the stand and joined you behind.

“Hello, good sir, what might we do for you today?”

The dandy man blinked once. Twice. His eyes kept going from you to Fili before choosing to ignore the fact that the future heir to the kingdom was now selling herbs and creams on the market. You could not stop him even if you had wanted to. Before you could try to intervene, he had already taken it upon himself to help you. He pushed you back and sat you down on your chariot. He did not stop, not for one minute. The whole morning he served and listened sometimes turning to you for confirmation. You intervened once or twice, and that was that. How long did he observe you to know almost as much as you did? From where you were you saw him leave his heavy pelted coat, warmed up by the activity. His shoulder blades barely hidden behind a linen shirt, became a good distraction to the feeling of helplessness within. Your fingers twitched once or twice, wanting nothing more than to reach out for him. You knew you couldn’t. But one can always dream. Right? Suddenly in lack of clients, he turned to you, chest rising rapidly. A hint of hair peeked from under his collarbones and you had a hard time focusing on his words.

“Now. How did you lose your voice?”

A real worry started to gain his face even as he smirked. He could not fool you anymore. His eyes started studying you, as if your face could tell him what had happened.

“Did you catch a cold?”

“Something to write?”

Excitedly, you nodded. He pulled a piece of paper and a charcoal out of his pocket and handed them to you. In quick words, you explained the situation to him. As he read on, his heart kept sinking. He knew his attachment to be love. Fili had known for quite some time. Regardless, if you did not feel the same then it was a doomed story. The deadline was growing closer as each moment passed and he was losing his mind. He kept pacing trying to find another way out of it. There was none. Even if he had gone to Gandalf - the sorcerer of the Kingdom - it would be too late before he’d come up with a solution. His only hope was to tell you how he felt. In the unlikely odds, that maybe, you would not reject him. If not, he’d make your last day a feast and a paradise. The taste of grief melted in his mouth. He swallowed it soon. In a whisper and an extended hand, he called you to him. When you took his hand, shaking and hesitant, his heartbeat accelerated.

“It’s time I told you…”

You held your breath, a deep sigh shaking him. He took your face in his hands, gentle and tender.

“I am afraid that all those months I have deceived you.”

Your heart sank again and as you struggled in his hold, he stopped you.

“Let me finish, please.”

You nodded, tearful sobs already on the edge of your lips.

“Just look at me. Forget everything else. Forget where we are. Just listen to me.”

Your voice croaked as if it had been unused for years. It startled both of you. An immense joy washed over you and you jumped into his arms, breathing him in, basking in his warmth. He held on to you so tight, it was sure to leave marks. The market around you was unchanged but you were. He looked at you dead in the eye, a mere centimetres from your face.

“Never, ever, do that again. —No promises.”

You laughed and squealed when he mumbled about “promises” and “worried sick” and you being the death of him one day. Quickly, in between two rants you pulled him to you and kissed him. He continued on for a good moment before he realised what had happened. He blushed furiously, the corner of his lips lifting. Soon, your lips found his, gently. He wanted to enjoy that kiss and all the others coming afterwards.

People around you, were sure to have something to talk about the next day.

On the other hand, you would choose to be nowhere else but right there in his arms.

All their words be damned.

#reactions #heilith

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Text

Oh my goodness... Thank you :D

Affections

Fandom: The Hobbit Ship/Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader Trope: Unrequited love that’s requited after all Note: No idea. I probably made heavy mistakes in the mythology. Don't hesitate to point them out if need be. Warnings: Miscommunication, father-son relationship, rejection Word count: 6 282 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstareditd @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

“Legolas!”

Seeing your friend after so many years made you so happy, your eyes were watering even before you could feel his arm embracing you.

“My dear friend. I am so glad you could finally come home.”

Decades earlier, the young prince and you had learned and grown together under the watchful eye of the Mirkwood. Small ones were a rarity, but two at the same time almost never happened. Once an adult, it became clear you needed to leave the palace’s grounds and see the world for yourself. The only kin you had left was your aunt Ede, and she encouraged you to go, despite being torn upon your departure.

Now, finally, you were coming back to your place of birth, filled with new memories and new experiences. During the war, you were following the refugees, learning medicine and healing amongst them as you had for the past decade. Fortunately, this knowledge became of vital importance after the conflict and here you were, talking animatedly with the Crowned Prince, sharing adventures and stories.

“I am sure your father must not have taken kindly to that friendship.”

Legolas laughed, his long hair moving with the winds around.

“No, he did not. Gimli is a close friend of mine and I would not allow him to be treated with the disrespect my father is so easily using. — Still. Of all the people present in the Company, the only one you find to be a friend is the son of Gloin? The very last member of Thorin Oakenshield’s entourage? — I did not choose, you know. And…”

Before he could finish his sentence, you stopped your steps. The place had grown so much since you last were there. The tallest trees reached peaks you could not see anymore, cutting into the sky slices of clouds and sunshine. The hall around you felt heavier. More grounded in stone than in wood. Ravages of the Great War had reached even here, it seemed. From the stairs in front of you, a tall she-elf, with her dark auburn hair and her proud stature, was staring right. Your feet guided you to her in a hurry. Her embrace felt like a warm bath, smelling of lavender and a quiet temperance you needed in that moment. Ede was one of a kind. She was the one who had taught you the basics to healing and the plants, as well as the stars. Your mother had been a valiant soldier of the King’s army. She perished on the front of the battle of the Five Armies. Ede became a support and an ally in the pain of her loss. It made you two grow closer, especially when her brother - your father - left for the Shores after his wife died. He did not see the future in as much brightness as he used to and did not want to become a hindrance for you. It was with the certainty of meeting him again that you let him go.

“Aunt Ede, I have missed you so much. It is a genuine pleasure to see you. — As it is for me, child.”

She pushed a strand of hair back, watching you intently with those profound dark eyes of hers. Once Legolas reached you, he saluted the Royal Healer before leaving the both of you, a soft smile on his face. You spent the rest of the day walking around and rediscovering the grounds with your aunt. They had planted bigger gardens next to the Healers Quarters. A gardener had been appointed specifically for them, allowing time and space for the now withering Ede. She was growing tired more easily and, despite her appearances, was becoming more depressed by the day. Her work was never done in this place, being the sole reference for every other healer in the woods and sometimes outside of the country and into others. Everyday that passed made her long for her home in Rivendell. Her husband had gone back the year before and the separation was taking another toll on her, time only making it worse. At the first signs of dusk, she brought you to your room, next to her own. It contained a simple bed and a desk as well as two tall windows, looking out on the garden below. The bag you carried when you arrived finally found a space to rest too next to the neat sheets.

“Child, I bid you goodnight. We shall talk more in the morning. -Yes, my aunt. I wish you pleasant dreams and a restful sleep.”

She kissed your forehead, smiled and closed the door behind her. Soon you crumbled into the heavenly made bed, but could not find sleep. After all, the real reason of why you left had been kept secret from everyone. Including yourself. You were becoming more agitated with every minute passing before meeting the King. You had not left on particularly good terms with him, a show of restraint on your part, inclining you to keep quiet and move on. Nevertheless, the memory kept replaying in your mind, as you felt yourself drift into a soundless sleep.

In autumn, the leaves fell, and Legolas was in the trees. Well, one tree. The tallest at the time, a great oak with leaves reaching into the sky as if trying to touch it. The Prince loved to climbed its branches, storm or high wind was of no matter to him, wanting to admire the sky more than anything. Also, it was the only place his father would not think of searching him in. Lately he had been adamant in having his son with him at all times, protected and locked in, close to him where he could not be lost. Or killed. That oak was where you found him.

“My Prince, I am afraid your kingly father will be upset with both of us if you do not come down this instant.”

Silence. Thranduil had asked you personally to go in search of his son. Out of the two of you, you were in appearances the more mature one. Even now young adults, you could not help yourselves and hid from each of your parents whenever you could, spending most of your times observing the wood’s life. The fleeting murmurs of the trees settled, leaving a melody of singing birds behind. Soon, he came down, looking sheepish.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to cause my father’s anger towards you. — No need to apologise. I understand why you would want to hide. Yet, you can not do so forever Legolas.”

He nodded, following you back inside. His father had grown tensed and tired after his wife’s death. Her warmth was the heart of the forest and once she was gone, every winter became colder and colder. The King only grew more weary of the outsiders, leaving no choice but to close the borders to most of them. You knew him in happier times, grew with his son and should have grown attached to the Prince. Yet, in your heart, Thranduil had the only space you could allow to be filled. It had pained you to acknowledge it, more so when Legolas’ mother passed. A voice inside wanted you to reach out and to pull the pain away from him. From them both, but you could not. As well as Thranduil’s borders closed, his mind and soul did too. For the longest time, he retreated so far inside that no one could reach in. Not even his son. Your arm looped around Legolas’ shoulders, trying to comfort him however you could.

“Do not fret. He was scared to death you broke your neck. Once he sees you intact maybe he’ll calm down”

It did seem to make him chuckle at least, as he leaned into you. You felt ashamed feeling this way towards a brother’s kin. It was a torment you would not wish on anyone not even your greatest enemy. It became a soft agony and then a feeling deeply buried. Sometimes, you hoped you would find yourself looking at Legolas the same way you looked at Thranduil. It never happened and you grieved the proper relationship that would never be. It had been talked about, making a match between the two of you. The Prince could have been inclined. Your own affections lead you to say no, to the disarray of your parents and Legolas’ poor heart. He never resented you for it but you did. You resented yourself so much it blinded the young spirit you had into biding yourself to this place, when nothing new could be learned, nothing new could be seen. No new love would grow. Ede had mentioned leaving before. The idea was taking roots but Thranduil’s actions were the final push into the adventure of your life.

Upon arriving in the King’s room, you caught onto three things. The first, he was still worried sick, apparently repeatedly pacing the room with no signs of stopping soon. The second was that once he saw his son, he embraced him, where you had seen him lash out in anger at others. The third, you were sure that when his eyes landed on you, he would burn you right where you stood. He took his time, checking if his son was alright if he was injured, who’s idea was it to go out and hide like that. Once his nerves settled, he dismissed Legolas, closely watched over by two guards. As the Prince left the room, you shared a soft smile, already knowing what was bound to happen. Once he was gone, the air left the room and the reprieve you had ended right there.

“How dare you?”

Thranduil’s voice was carrying across the room. He was standing as far away as possible from you, as if trying to avoid catching a disease you had.

If only that was the reason, he would sleep better nights. Not watching the stars peak and go down every morning, growing mad with every time he saw you. He knew it was, in truth, for another set of reasons entirely. His body was betraying him. His heart ached in the most delicious ways, retreating from its hiding place. He would have thought it dead if it weren’t for you. You with your sharp mind and loud laughter. You who had a spirit all of your own. You who were the oldest friend and confident his son had. How could he feel that way for you, he never wanted to know. It would have meant accepting he nourished feelings for you. He watched you grow and become a mighty warrior and a spirited young elf. Once well in adulthood though, that was only then that he noticed you. Before that you were a shadow compared to his wife’s memory. He saw and perceived all too well your longing looks and tight smile for him only to see. It touched his otherwise dead heart. The pain of knowing that it could never be and the blossoming feelings he carried for you were growing inside of him intertwined. Now, your eyes haunted him at night, hot and feverish, lingering in his mind. He longed to be touched by you, when he knew he should not have. The remorse was ever present. What would she think of all of this? She would want him happy, cared for and content. He wanted it too. He would not yield, not crumble under your stare. He had to protect his people from disappointment in their ruler. He could not afford jeopardising his rule so. Even for your beautiful mind and gorgeous soul.

“How dare you compel my son into acting so? You and your ideas! Of course you were the one to give him such ideas about freedom and… — Your Majesty, with all due respect, I gave him what he asked of me, nothing else.”

He was livid. What he asked of you? A jealousy he had forgotten the name of, formed in his stomach, giving his wrath a fuel to keep on burning. What did he ask of you? What did you ask of him?

“How could you? You are full of yourself. Arrogant. Reckless. Do you not know the influence you have over him? How dangerous that could be?”

He could see you, bowing your head, biting your tongue. He drove the knife deeper still, wanting you to react, to do something. Anything was better than you not reacting at all. Especially to him. The cruel intentions in him a reflection of his frustrated state at seeing you and not touching you.

“Answer me!”

The scream rang through your body. Teeth clenched, you had been biting your tongue this entire time, not wanting to make this situation worse. Although, he was on the right path for it to get worse.

“Why would I? You seem to have all the answers already! About your son, about me!” You kept on going, even as he stepped closer and closer to you, domineering and hovering over you. “He needs to experience life! If you can not give him that, at least give this to his mother!” This touched a nerve, his face darkening with fury. Where he knew you were right, he wanted to make you quiet. Those truths either he was not ready to hear. “She would certainly not want her only son to go to the Shores having never touched life with his own hands. Never fighting for what he believes in, never seeing the sun high in the sky or never feeling the touch of a lover, because of you. Sire, you cannot keep him in a gilded cage like this. Either you let him go or he will escape.”

He was invading your private space now. You could not look up. You would not look up.

“How would you know how to care for a child who is not your own? — I know him better than you think.”

Better than you lingered in the air, unsaid, deeply felt. His long fingers gripped your jaw pulling your eyes along them, then his deep burgundy robe before meeting his darkened pupils. He narrowed his eyes, the very tip of his fingers were burning with the yearning of touching you. He could not give in. He would not give in.

“Do you now?”

His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, in what was supposed to be a show of power. Both of you knew it was not, still thinking the other to not know about it. His teeth bit lightly into your earlobe before you could stop him. Frozen in place, you did nothing when his lips drew goosebumps down your throat. In a swift movement, he sucked a deep bruise into your skin. You cried out as he held your face in place, merciless in his grip. It was not a cry of displeasure and that surprised him. As your hand gripped the one holding your face, he searched your expression looking for a momentary lapse in judgement. Maybe something to stop him. Something to tell him this was wrong. He found nothing of the sort. He slid his fingers from your jaw to your cheeks, finding comfort into the plump and supple skin of your face, before all but tearing himself apart by kissing you. You kissed him in return, feverish and wanting. Too soon, he stopped. Disgusted with himself, he turned around, hurting like never before. His weakness was showing, all too visible to his own eyes.

“Go. Now. And never come back. — Sire…”

Your voice was but a whisper, the fluttering of your heart where his skin had met yours turning your whole body into a beating drum.

“Leave! Leave and never show your face again!”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You did not let them and left the room, closing the door as hard as you could behind you. Once in your room, everything went blank. Almost as if on drugs, mechanically, you gathered your things, warned your aunt of your departure. She did not question it. She knew of your yearning to leave and did not stop you either. Only accompanied you to the main road, wishing you farewell and a heartfelt goodbye. Legolas received a delayed goodbye, by letter. He was angry with you, but understood. You never told him about what happened and it said a lot about his forgiving nature that he did not hold that hurt against you today. She figured Thranduil might have something to do with it when the next day he asked about you. He seemed hurt beyond measure when she told him you were gone, almost surely never to return.

The first rays of the sun sneaked through the glass windows, shades and hues of red and yellows nesting into the corners of the room. After a change of clothes and a frugal breakfast, you accompanied Ede to the gardens along with her pupils, witnessing the classes she gave to elves from all backgrounds and all horizons. Midday approached and she took you aside after leaving her students.

“Child, we need to talk. — Yes, aunt Ede. What do we need to talk about?”

Her next words startled you as much as they turned your world upside down.

“I will be direct, my child. I need you to replace me, here, at the palace. I need you to become the next Royal Healer.”

Ede and you had carried that conversation long into the night. She was adamant that it was you who was supposed to carry on in her place. On the other hand you were less than convinced. Especially considering that she always described the task as a burden - more so in the last years. You would not negotiate with her and complained, exposed, revealed what you feared and felt unable to do. She would hear none of it. Her sole purpose here was to give her place to you, of that she was certain. Deep within her a longing of her home had taken root and she had wanted to leave for a long time. If only for her sake, you had no other choice but to do what she asked. For your own, you would have to face Thranduil when that day would come. Maybe, it was for the best. You could not stay in this place of ignorance and avoidance. A quick walk through the garden and you found yourself, face to face with Legolas, all smiles and a hint of mischief in his eyes you were worried about.

“Good morning to you. -And good morning to you, my friend.”

His smile did not falter as he proposed to accompany you through the palace, talking animatedly as usual, until finally you reached the healers quarters.

“I do have a question though. — Yes, what is it?”

As he opened his mouth to say something, he closed it again, his eyes drawn to something - or rather someone - in the room behind you. The door had been left ajar. Distinctively you could see Thranduil’s back and when he stepped aside, your aunt Ede too. Her brows were furrowing and her lips were pinched in a thin line. That could not be any good. The King on the other hand, was towering over her, rolling his eyes and pinching his nose every time she spoke as you would do with a child. That, that was intolerable. Legolas tried to stop you, his hand slipping from your arm only to be left bewildered and strangely, amused, when you stepped inside, slamming the door open.

“Your Majesty. Aunt Ede.”

You bowed your head as he observed you from head to toe. Since that night, it was the first time he was seeing you again. As you, him. A beating sound rang in your ears. His sharp eyes looked down upon you, considering your face, your lips. He stopped and turned towards Ede again.

“Your Majesty, this is… — We shall talk about it at another time. ”

She bowed and did not dare question his statement. He stepped out of the room without another word, only mildly surprised at finding his son at the door. He inherited his need to meddle in other’s affairs from his mother. It both amused him and annoyed him to no end.

* “Ede, what was that about? — Oh, nothing. Have you eaten yet? I was hoping we could eat together and talk some more about your new position?”

There was no negotiating her. Soon, she led you towards a secluded spot under a willow tree you used to hide in when you were a mere child. It’s blooming branches looked smaller now, even when surrounding both of you in its fresh shadows.

“Aunt, please tell me what this talk was about. With the King.”

Ede sighed, plugging some grapes from her bag. She stalled, settling down cheeses and bread at a luxuriously slow pace.

“Aunt… — Yes, I know. Listen, it is a matter between the King and I and… — Was it about me? — Sort of.”

You snorted loudly, startling a few birds in the tree.

“What do you mean? — It was about my replacement. He disagrees with my choice.”

That should not have stung as much as it did.

“And I told him that I would not be changing my mind anytime soon. And that you would be taking my place in three weeks time as per what was planned. — Wait… Three weeks? From now? It’s too soon, Ede.”

She shushed you with a finger against your lips, as she did when you were younger.

“No discussion, no negotiation.”

She proceeded to tell you all about the Royal Healer’s position. You were to tend to the Royal Family, anytime day or night, big or small wounds. Fondly, she recalled a time when Legolas was still small, and had fallen off of a tree, breaking his wrist. He had been restless for the long process of the cast and even more when he had to not use his arm for weeks after that. Being light of foot was not something you were born with and he had mastered it with numerous injuries and various broken bones. You recalled the infinite patience his father had to show. The prince was not as quiet and calm as he was now. She kept on with an extended list of places you were expected to go and help, as well as the palace. Indeed, she had taken it upon herself to replace the old healers in all the neighbouring villages. Most of them had been replaced, yet there was still work to do and new persons to train. At the first lights descending in the sky, she excused herself, exhausted that she was. She kissed your temple and walked away.

Your room felt smaller once you reached its bed. The walls seemed to be getting closer with each moment and soon, you could not stand it any longer. The night had just settled, the first stars showing above. Without much thinking, your feet wandered around the place, finding bushes and crannies, the deep river you knew. Several times, you passed by the willow you had eaten under earlier that day. Somehow, it drove you to its shelter, the rays of the moon shining through the leaves, giving the place an eerie and melancholic air.

Carefully you immersed yourself in this small reprieve of the world.

What you did not know was that you were not alone, sneaking around at night, unable to sleep.

* Once done with the argument, Thranduil had left the infirmary in a hurry, not wanting to dwell in a room where you were. Inadequacy was not something he was fond of feeling. Legolas followed him back to his chambers. He could sense his son’s amusement from behind him. When he turned around, stepping into his bedroom, the very same son had the audacity to laugh wholeheartedly.

“You do remember you owe me allegiance, even as my son and heir.”

The elf struggled to gain back his composure and nod. Finally he had come to his senses.

“Yes, Father. Although I choose to find our relationship into its more domestic issues than its governmental ones.”

Or not.

“Legolas, I swear on your mother’s grave if you do not explain why you are mocking me I will send you to an early retirement deep in the forest with nothing but bread and water to survive, as well as the animals to keep you company.”

That made him stop. Thranduil’s threats were always outlandish. They were also never made in vain or carelessly. Legolas stepped closer to his father, leaning in as in confidence. The King’s eyebrow lifted in a show of not being impressed. From where he was sat, he could see the sparkle in his son’s eyes. The one that meant no good.

“Your affections are showing, father. — My…”

If he had not been angry to begin with, he might have been now. He thought back to that night and could not wash away the culpability creeping in. After you had left, he had spent sleepless nights, without an end to his thoughts about what he could have done worse. Never better. In fact, he had come to the conclusion that where you were concerned, things was to be left alone. A sort of status quo, left undisturbed. Nevertheless, he stayed quiet. The silence worried Legolas.

“Father, I never meant any harm. — I know.”

He couldn’t face Legolas anymore, a veil covering his vision. The King felt the weight of the past years weighing him down, sitting in that chair behind this table, his future in the eyes of his only child. How much he had wished there had been other children with her. Legolas was as perfect now as he was when he was born but he was alone. He released a heavy sigh.

“Sit.”

Legolas obeyed, fearing something worse than a stern talking to.

“Nothing is ever meant to happen between…” The name on his tongue travelled down his throat to his heart. He chocked on it. “It is not meant to be, my son. Of my own fault. No harm can come to her. Not more than the one I have already done.”

Questions began plaguing the prince’s mind, almost wondering aloud what his father could have done to deserve your absence and his longing. In a way, those questions were answered shortly after he thought them up.

“I was the one who chased her away. — You…”

Thranduil’s hand stopped him. It barely lifted in the air, before resting again.

“In a very unkind manner. The behaviour I had was… Unworthy.”

No other words were necessary for he was one to choose them precisely. His close circle knew that. That knowledge was what made his son get up and look at him, with so much disappointment in his eyes he could have made his father drown in it if he so much as wished it. Legolas did not have any will in himself to do so. Instead, he channelled this frustration and shame into his words, chosen carefully as he had been taught to, many times before.

“Did you even try to talk with her? — No. — Why?”

His tone had taken a harsh turn, startling Thranduil in his immobility. No good excuse came to mind. He had been afraid and incapable of voicing his apologises. With you gone, gone was the possibility of redemption. Now that you were here again, he could try. Legolas’ mother was still in his mind, chastising him for his actions. He had come to accept that he would never forget her. That she would remain his conscience for the years to come, the years until his disappearance from this Earth. He had known her for so long, she would always be there. Telling him when he was doing wrong too. Even if it was with the voice of their only child, now grown, looking at him with something akin to violence in his eyes.

“She is out there, thinking she has done something wrong, when you could have freed her from that burden long ago. That, father, is not an unworthy behaviour. That is the behaviour of a coward. — How dare you speak to me in such a way? I am still your King… — Not as long as you behave like this, you’re not.”

He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His words resonated against the walls and the mind of the one left behind. A deep frown settled on his forehead, erasing all traces of previous fury. A weary hand pinched his nose, narrowing his eyes at his own anger. In a careless gesture, Thranduil pushed everything off of the table before him. Papers, ink, quills… everything went flying across the room. The only thing left were his hands gripping the edges of the table, ready to throw it too. Soon, he found himself crying silent tears, trying desperately to stop them from falling. His hands were shaking, a whole body tremor going through him, as sobs escaped him. This had to stop. A knock at the door interrupted him in his misery. Quickly he composed himself and followed the council servant outside, attending absentmindedly the meeting he was supposed to preside over. Legolas’ absence thrust another surge of sadness, pure and raw, through him. His absence only making him think about yours. In this scenario, he could lose you both. He could have none of it.

Once the first rays of sunshine started disappearing behind the clouds and down the horizon line, his feet brought him to his son’s chambers. He had to at least try to make this right.

* Under the willow tree, you laid, head resting against the trunk, eyes up in the sky. Sleep would still elude you, in the most peaceful ways this time. The clouds were moving with the winds, hiding and showing the numerous constellations up above. A rustling of leaves brought you back to solid ground quickly. Someone had found your hiding place, of all the places in the palace.

“Legolas? What are you doing here?”

The shadow did not answer, only advanced and stepped in the moonlight. It was indeed Legolas, but his eyes were different. A solemn toll had taken hold upon them and it was strange, if not completely out-worldly to watch him be this serious.

“I fear, the same as you. I could not sleep. — How did you find me?”

He did not answer right away, throwing a glance behind him before looking back at you.

“I followed you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. His steps had gotten more silent with the years, apparently. From your room to this place, you had not heard him once, not even in the gravel or the grass.

“Listen, I am here…” He hesitated a moment. “I did not meant to follow you. It was the only way. The most opportune one. There are things you need to talk about. I thought that if I was the first to show, you would feel less incline in running. — The first to show?” Fear ran through you. “What have you done Legolas? — I talked with my father.” Something sank within you. “About you.”

Your voice died in your throat. “I never meant to overstep my position, as your friend. I was worried about what he could have done to warrant such guilty actions from him. — What actions? Wait. Did he tell you…?”

Thranduil’s voice interrupted you both. His tall stature loomed over, albeit hunching over to pass through the leaves and come to you.

“Legolas, would you leave us for a moment, please.”

The gentleness in his tone surprised you. It seemed it was a normal occurrence for the Prince who reached and squeezed your arm reassuringly before leaving with a bow of his head.

“I believe we have much to talk about.”

Neither of you said another word, before he stepped forward and sat down next to you. It felt awkward to see your King in such an informal setting. You could see the discomfort it brought him to be this close to you. You were about to get up and go, when his hand pinned yours to the space between the two of you. Stunned, you looked at him straight on. He avoided your gaze at all costs, not taking the risk to say hurtful things again, out of spite. Out of fear.

“My rank demands an exemplary behaviour and it seems I have failed in that task.”

Your breath caught in your throat, you kept staring at his profile, making it hard for him to keep going. Through greeted teeth he added more words you never thought you would hear from him.

“My actions towards you were nothing short of ungraceful and puerile. You have my deepest apologies.”

Finally, he looked at you, tall and head held high. That was as far as he would go. Legolas might have had a hand in that forsaken apology. It was a needed humiliation, if he was to keep you in his court. With him. Near him.

“Sire, you have my sincerest thanks for this. There was no need for you to do so and you demonstrated a great kindness by this gesture.”

His face relaxed slightly, his jaw unclenching. His hand was still on yours. The feeling erupting from that meeting left you dizzy and energised at the same time.

“Was that all, Sire?”

Thranduil could see the hope on your face. Brows pulled down, frowning around your beautiful haunting eyes, lips pinched in a thin line. What took him over he would never know, for he did not recognise himself behaving like this.

“No. The kingdom is deeply grateful to have you back here with us. This land deserves excellency and perfection. That is why I can be demanding of my people. As well as of you.”

His hand gripped yours. You did not stop him from doing so, letting him finish his thoughts. He seemed to be needing it as much as you. A prickling in your eyes made you withdraw your hand for a moment to wipe it out. Your fingertips erased the tears down your cheeks, while your tongue felt as a leaded weight in your mouth.

“I understand.”

Only then did you put your hand over his, squeezing lightly. A sharp hope ran through him, a knife of helplessness felt deep in his bones. He did not want to recognise the feelings growing inside of him. He knew what they were anyhow.

“Thank you.”

Words ran away in the night. Your eyes found the sky again, the stars and the moon above lighting your way in the dark. He was staring. You could feel it. You kept on looking away, biting your lips and swallowing your tears down your throat. If this was what you could get, then you would take it. At least he was sorry. Your feelings, you could deal with on your own. Thranduil’s stare was boring into you with little care for his heartbeat accelerating. Here he was, sitting in the grass, in the middle of the night, watching someone he thought he had lost. Something to smile about, finally, he thought. He was committing to memory the shape of your nose. The curve of your chin. The apple of your cheeks, the soft trace of your eyebrows. The stubbornness and intelligence hiding in your eyes. As he did back when, his hand slipped down your cheek, bringing you to meet his eyes. He settled in your throat, slender fingers finding their place under your jaw. Half hooded eyes and a sharp inhale from your mouth were all it took for him to meet your lips. Slowly, both his hands came to cradle your face.

Then, you were the one to pull away. He frowned, trying to meet your eyes. You wouldn’t. Cradling his hand against your cheek, you pushed it away. Deep within, the restlessness of your heart had not gone quiet with his words. Only louder, the beating in your chest trashing around, begging to be freed.

“My lord, I… I understand. I really do understand what is at stake, here.”

You met his eyes, full of something you never thought you’d see again. Worry.

“Nonetheless, I want more.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to stop you. You stopped him first, the palm of your hand quietly overtaking his senses, when meeting with his face.

“This. What is happening here, I will not have it hidden away. I cannot. Not after this long. I…” You licked your lips, anxious at his reaction. “I belong to you. In whatever shape or form. But, if you give me this…” The skin of your thumb caressed down, meeting his lips. He had stopped moving. “There will be no going back. All out of the shadows. And, if you break my heart a second time, I will not be coming back.”

For someone with a patient talent for words, the King was left speechless. No proper sentence could carry his meaning. Only gestures, actions and demonstrations of his affection and commitment could. So he did. For the first time with you, he became hesitant, his mouth shaping itself around your throat, your open neck bathed in the moonlight. He clung onto your waist as one would a lifeline, your hands threading through his hair when he kissed you. His hunger and thirst for you was unmatched. Unparalleled. He had forgotten what that felt like.

That night, as many others afterwards, you found yourselves bound together, under the willow.

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Note

Thank you, thank you, thank you ! I wasn't so sure about the fairy tale part, so thanks :D !

PS: (The gif you used is so cute I love it ! <3)

For the AU-gust Mashup:

Fili x Reader + Fairytale + “Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

No pressure at all! Thank you in advance for considering the request! <3

Words

“What may I help you with tonight, traveller?”

“You look just like her, you know? — What?”

The jolt almost made you knock over your tea. The last time someone compared you to anyone else was when your grandmother was alive. Could he have known her? Or was he toying with you?

He released you, your body meeting with the floor in a violent attempt at getting away from him. His staff pointed at you, he mumbled incoherent words. Then, some all too coherent ones.

A maniacal laugh echoed through the room, white and grey fog sneaking through the door. You raised your head and he was gone, heaps of smoke the only sign he was there at all.

The next morning, you were mute.

———— It had taken a heavy toll on you. People could not understand why from one day to the next, your voice had gone out. The weather could not explain it. You couldn’t any more either.

Of course, Fili chose that day to show up. He did not exactly chose, for it was the first time in weeks he had managed to have some free time. Naturally, he arranged to come and see you.

“Hello.”

“Are you not going to say it back?”

“Hello, good sir, what might we do for you today?”

“Now. How did you lose your voice?”

A real worry started to gain his face even as he smirked. He could not fool you anymore. His eyes started studying you, as if your face could tell him what had happened.

“Did you catch a cold?”

“Something to write?”

Excitedly, you nodded. He pulled a piece of paper and a charcoal out of his pocket and handed them to you. In quick words, you explained the situation to him. As he read on, his heart kept sinking. He knew his attachment to be love. Fili had known for quite some time. Regardless, if you did not feel the same then it was a doomed story. The deadline was growing closer as each moment passed and he was losing his mind. He kept pacing trying to find another way out of it. There was none. Even if he had gone to Gandalf - the sorcerer of the Kingdom - it would be too late before he’d come up with a solution. His only hope was to tell you how he felt. In the unlikely odds, that maybe, you would not reject him. If not, he’d make your last day a feast and a paradise. The taste of grief melted in his mouth. He swallowed it soon. In a whisper and an extended hand, he called you to him. When you took his hand, shaking and hesitant, his heartbeat accelerated.

“It’s time I told you…”

You held your breath, a deep sigh shaking him. He took your face in his hands, gentle and tender.

“I am afraid that all those months I have deceived you.”

Your heart sank again and as you struggled in his hold, he stopped you.

“Let me finish, please.”

You nodded, tearful sobs already on the edge of your lips.

“Just look at me. Forget everything else. Forget where we are. Just listen to me.”

Your voice croaked as if it had been unused for years. It startled both of you. An immense joy washed over you and you jumped into his arms, breathing him in, basking in his warmth. He held on to you so tight, it was sure to leave marks. The market around you was unchanged but you were. He looked at you dead in the eye, a mere centimetres from your face.

“Never, ever, do that again. —No promises.”

You laughed and squealed when he mumbled about “promises” and “worried sick” and you being the death of him one day. Quickly, in between two rants you pulled him to you and kissed him. He continued on for a good moment before he realised what had happened. He blushed furiously, the corner of his lips lifting. Soon, your lips found his, gently. He wanted to enjoy that kiss and all the others coming afterwards.

People around you, were sure to have something to talk about the next day.

On the other hand, you would choose to be nowhere else but right there in his arms.

All their words be damned.

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Text

Oh my goodness, thank you I'm blushing over here x)

Blue Moon

There was something hypnotising about his hands.

“What are you thinking about?”

A chilly breeze rose, and you had to tighten the cloth around your shoulder, crossing your arms close to your chest.

“Nothing important, Sire.”

A laugh echoed through the wooden box around you.

“Then why are you boring a hole in my skull with your staring?”

Your cheek felt warmer than they had been moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, sire. If you need me to go, I… — No. Stay.”

Eomer had not meant for his voice to grow this loud. Nor to turn around so abruptly. The nerves in him, electrified by your eyes, led him to act so.

“As you wish, Sire.”

“Would not want you freezing to death on my account.”

“Can I…?”

“I…”

“I… do not know what to say… I… — Then you don’t need to say anything.”

“I will. — What?”

He chuckled at your incredulous expression.

“I will say something. — Oh.”

He brought you back to him again, kissing your cheek.

The last words murmured against your cheek, to the shell of your ear, elicited a burning anticipation deep in your bones.

“My King, I would never ever let anyone but me see you in this state. — I don’t think anyone had ever really seen me before you.”

“And I will never let anyone else see me like this. If you’ll have me, of course.”

His declaration hit your heart at an arrow’s speed.

“You really mean that? I’m not just a… — You’re not just anything. You are the world and beyond. You are everything. I hope to be everything to…”

Before he could finish, you pulled him down for another kiss. This one arousing and passionate; desires trapped, finally meeting in the middle.

“I will. I absolutely will.”

A heartbeat passed in his arms, trying to keep your hands to yourselves.

“You were asking me to… — … court and eventually marry you? Yes. And you said yes, you cannot take it back now.”

Your laughter rang through him as it rang through the stables, enlightening the new day ahead.

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Text

Thank you! I would love to yes! I'll have a look at it as soon as I can ! :D

Holding On

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings Ship/Pairing: Haldir x Reader Trope: Best Friends to Lovers Note: Took advantage of the potentially invented elven tradition of gifting someone your most precious possession after your first kiss :D. Warnings: Angst/Miscommunication - damn you Haldir/Slight smut if you squint and zoom at the very end. Word count: 2 836 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

The gentle breeze brought a soft tune to your ears. Of course, he would be playing in the first hours of the night. What else could he do, before leaving for another long month of patrol? Certainly not seek you out. The bitter lingered.

Haldir was a dear and close friend of yours. He had drawn you in with his cheekiness and teasing words. You were lucky enough to know those sides of him, usually hidden. Unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of those same unruly sides, sometimes. It felt harder and harder with each joust of words to stop the ones you wanted to say from blurting out of your mouth. Today was about fixing that. Upon walking the narrow path, your eyes met his silhouette before he could see you. The length of his hair covered his face. His bow and arrows were left in the grass, carefully propped against a branch. His head rose, and he finally saw you. A flutter of wings came to life in your stomach. He smiled at you.

“What are you doing out this early, melon?”

You had no good answer for that. Knowing he was leaving was one thing. Seeing him do so, even in your dreams, was another. Every departure was a torment for you.

Your lips curled sadly with your next words.

“Why did you not say goodbye, Haldir?”

The underlying harshness of your tone startled him. He paled, his eyes growing wide. He did not expect that. Not from you. You who were gentle and kind. Soft-spoken and careful in all manners of life. He never wanted to disappoint you. Nor hurt you. After your first encounter, he knew very quickly your presence could never be replaced by anyone else. When he identified those feelings as more than friendship, he snuffed them out. The mere thought of losing you because of them was unbearable. Deep down, he knew you would not leave him so. Yet, he feared it all the same and kept himself quiet.

“I thought I did. What is happening to you?”

A heavy sigh. Again, your emotions had got the better of you. The loneliness he left behind was a most cruel sentiment to have. Or to hold on to. His hands had stopped playing, and he laid the instrument next to him.

“I am sorry. I fear my future loneliness at your departure is haunting me in advance.”

Haldir chuckled weakly. You always did have a way with words. Even more so since becoming a script here in the palace. Where he was the one leaving, you were always the one staying. It tore his heart in two to see you afflicted so. The Marchwarden did not know what to do to alleviate the sadness in your eyes. You stepped forward until he had to raise his head to look at you. Soon, you sat down in front of him. An itch went through him from his fingertips to his shoulder blade; how he wanted to touch you right now…

“And you woke up this early because of it? Have I altered your sleeping by my rudeness? — Do not flatter yourself that much, Haldir.”

Finally, a smile had made its way onto your face. You reckoned that being mad at him was not your best skill. Unwavering, he stared at you expectantly, wishing you would answer and share your troubles with him, as you always did. This time proved harder than the other ones.

“I have made a decision.”

His eyebrows rose.

“What kind of decision? — About… us.”

His heart skipped a beat, and his breath shortened. He frowned even more, at a loss for words.

“We have been friends for a long and appreciable time. — Yes, we have. — Please do not interrupt me, it is already so hard to do…”

You bit on your lip, your courage leaving as water out of its bed. His stare became more present, his fingers tapping an invisible rhythm against the earth. Could this be it? Or had he been a fool this whole time?

“As a token of my appreciation, I want you to have this.”

Out of your hand, a piece of paper neatly folded — just as you knew how to. He had had those notes before. When you wanted to see him but could not fetch him yourself. Or when you wanted to say anything to him while he was on patrol. He took the piece of paper, seemingly heavier than the lasts. It seemed to contain something. Before he could pry it open, you stopped him.

“I also want you to wait until you are at your post.”

He looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“Humour me. — Oh, I will.”

You laughed with him this time, inclining your head on one side. He found it entirely too endearing.

“I will, I promise. — Thank you.”

The letter clutched in his hand, he found himself speechless again.

A loud sound announced his departure. A few of his comrades passed you by. They soon waited by the end of the path for him to follow.

“Goodbye, my friend.”

While saying the words, he grabbed what was his, placing your letter in an inside pocket close to his heart. You noticed. You smiled as brightly as you could.

“Safe travels, my friend.”

He smiled brightly back, always one to try to cheer you up. Before you could register what he had done, he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles. His steps were barely echoing around you anymore when you realised. The flutter in your stomach turned into a full storm.

The advanced post took them three whole days to reach. During those three days, Haldir could not help himself from touching and toying with the piece of paper you left him with. He was patient; you knew that. When it came to you, he could have waited another lifetime. Yet, this simple piece of paper and what it contained, almost weightless, made him more impatient and frustrated than the longest watch had ever done.

Finally, he reached his destination, and they relieved the others from their patrol. He waited the middle of the night to be alone and open the gift you had left him with. The paper unfolded easily enough. It almost toppled the thin ring left inside. The details were weaved around it, organised in rows of leaves and polished silver. It could not have belonged to you. The size was too big, and the ornaments were indicative of a skilled touch. He held the jewel in his palm for the longest time, almost losing track of what he was supposed to watch out for. Luckily, his brother had joined him and kept an extra eye out when he saw him entranced by what an object he could not see. Rúmil only hoped it would be a good thing. And made a mental note to ask about it later on.

On the paper, read the following.

“Dear friend,

I have known you for the longest time. I have cared for you for just as long. In truth, I have more than cared for you. My friendship was soon turned into affections and my affections turned into love. True unbearable, unbreakable love. This seems sudden, I know, and if you do not feel the same, I wish you would forget all about this affair and we will go back to the way things were. I promise not to bring it up again. In my heart, I know that no matter what, I will always be by your side. I believe you know in our tradition, a first show of affection is to be rewarded by that which is most precious to us. With the ring, I hope to offer a payment in advance. You see, this belonged to my father. Before him, my grandfather and before him, my great grandfather. It has seen better times. I hope it will see better times. He passed it onto me, as his only child. It is my most precious and meaningful possession. I want you to have it, for if you feel the way I do, there is no other way forward but to spend the rest of my life with you.

You have known me to be meek, but when I am with you, I become brave. I want to be brave with you.

Again, if you do not wish for me in those ways, I will understand. That ring, nevertheless, shall always be yours, for I will never love anyone else.

With love, Your friend.”

Haldir’s breath stopped. The shock must have shown on his face, for the comrade next to him shook his shoulder in the hopes of waking him up from his reverie. A wide smile had spread across his face, his heart beating anew.

“Are you alright? — I am. Now go back to your posts, please.”

Never before had he said please when giving orders. They figured this letter must have broken his skull, for he spent the rest of the month whistling and daydreaming, spending more time alone than with them. The oldest knew. The youngest were still asking questions. When they received no answers, they settled for quiet speculations.

None of them could have figured out what was happening in Haldir’s head the whole time.

You waited for an answer.

It never came.

Your days were spent writing and copying the history of your people, under a strict supervision. Celeborn would have no mistake be made, whereas Galadriel encouraged you in more positive ways. They were nervous, for those scrolls were to be sent to other countries for archiving. They were a testimony and inheritance of your people’s knowledge and myths. No room for errors.

Alas, you were distracted. On the first week, you were wondering if anything had happened to Haldir during his trip to his post. Then, news came that his group had safely arrived. The second week, you convinced yourself he did not return your attachment and cried yourself to sleep every night. It was cruel, but you had expected it. After all, he was a Marchwarden and you were a mere scribe. The third one, right before he was supposed to come back, you willed yourself to go back to the way it was. He was probably giving you the space to mourn and grieve for what would never be. You had to let things go, eventually.

On the day he did come back, Haldir made no specific announcement to you, nor did he arrive during daylight. Rúmil had warned him about showing up at this hour, himself having gone directly to bed. Of course, he did not listen to his brother. Especially when he was teasing him about the love-struck face, he had a hard time hiding, all the way back home. The first thing he did was seek you out. Despite his restlessness, the odd hour triumphed over him, and he could not find you anywhere. Straight away, he went to your room, which for this hour should not have been this cold, nor this lifeless. Your bed was undone, it was obvious you had trashed around in it, the sheets left in disarray. Your work clothes were scattered around the floor. The windows were open, a faint trace of flowers in the air. He did not recognise this to be you. His worry only grew when he found inks and quills, papers thrown about on the desk. All of them with his name, some angry, others drowned in tears. The library was empty, your usual meeting point by the pond too. No guard could tell him where you had gone. He almost snapped his bow under the pressure of his hands. A quick detour to his room and he dropped off his bags and weapon. It was his fault. All of it. Not knowing what you wanted him to do, he had tried to write letters, never sending them out. It was all his fault for not telling you, even in unwisely chosen words, how he truly felt. What an actual idiot he had been. Only then did he realise where you must have been and ran.

The scribes had all left their working space. And here you were, hunched over and scrapping paper after paper, in your usual measured manners. He halted his steps. From where he was, he could not see your face, nor your hands, yet he was sure they were covered in ink stains and sore from having been overused. His feet reached you rapidly. You were about to cry out when you turned around.

Haldir had been right. You were wearing a wrinkled nightdress, clinging onto your skin with the sweat, your eyes haggard, hands covered in small ink stains. You probably had touched your face too, for it had several spots of ink there too. One by your left eye, over your eyelid. Another on your cheek, spread in a wild sprawl. The last ones on both your temples, where you must have tried to erase a headache.

As well as tears. So much tears growing in your eyes dying on your lips, nesting in your throat, making your skin damp when he reached for your face. How could he had let this happen?

“Why are you here? — I love you.”

He figured that in the state you were in, brutality was the swiftest way of ripping this sadness away. He did not think far enough to predict the anger that would follow.

“And you’re only telling me now!”

You wanted to hit him. Badly. Even tried to slap him. If it were not for his stupid reflexes, you might have done so. He would have let you, if the need to embrace you had not been so overwhelming. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before securing his arms around you. You relented, too tired to fight with him. Without warning, he picked you up a hand under your knees and the other on your back. Your hands secured against his neck as he carried you out. Haldir did not bother looking out for onlookers. They would have no answer from him anyway, too focused as he was on seeing your face for the first time in a month. It was lucky this mission had been this short, otherwise… He did not want to imagine otherwise. Your room was the closest, and he reached it first, settling you in bed. You were the one to stop him. Those pleading eyes he could not resist, and a need to rest his bones close to the person he wanted to be with. He laid down with you, and you fell asleep safe and sound in his arms.

* The next morning, he woke up with a back pain, in the bed only made for one. You were nowhere in sight. He sighed. Maybe you had gone to wash and would come back soon. He waited a little while before deciding he probably had the time to wash and change too until you arrived. As he had been previously, he was wrong.

When you came back an hour later — the ink had washed away with difficulty and you needed clean clothes — your room was empty. No traces left behind. Frustration took root within you. Where could he be? Showing up in the middle of the night, no notes, no nothing announcing his return. Not directly from him, at least. You had hoped for a letter or a missive. Something, anything.

He did not have another mission yet, as far as you knew. The only logical places he could be were the bathhouse or his chambers. You chose the latter. You stomped into his bedroom with no warning.

“You did not say goodbye, Haldir.”

A chill ran down his spine. His undressed state did not seem to phase you. But then again, he thought he was the only one in love in this relationship and it had proved wrong. Deciding against his first instincts, he put a light shirt on and walked to you. You wanted to slap the smirk off of his face. Just as much as you wanted to take that shirt off of him right this instant.

“No, you did not this time. — I did not?! How… — Please…”

This time, he was the one pleading for mercy. You were looking precious, like this. A nymph or a divine being, freshly out of the water, droplets dragging against your skin. Haldir’s thumb touched your lips lightly, plump and warm against his fingertips. Your breath shortened, anger drowned by him. By his arm around your waist, by his breath fanning over your cheek, his hair caressing your collarbones, your throat, firm hands mapping your back. The fire within you could not be stopped this time.

“If you start this… — I know.”

His lips touched yours, and the world was ablaze. He brought your legs against his hips. You could feel his desire against your core. Never before had you willingly surrendered to your feelings like this.

You felt the edge of a silver ring you knew by heart around his finger. You bit your lips hard and kissed him again, even harder.

There was no letting go now.

Only holding on.

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Text

Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it !:D

Blue Moon

There was something hypnotising about his hands.

“What are you thinking about?”

A chilly breeze rose, and you had to tighten the cloth around your shoulder, crossing your arms close to your chest.

“Nothing important, Sire.”

A laugh echoed through the wooden box around you.

“Then why are you boring a hole in my skull with your staring?”

Your cheek felt warmer than they had been moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, sire. If you need me to go, I… — No. Stay.”

Eomer had not meant for his voice to grow this loud. Nor to turn around so abruptly. The nerves in him, electrified by your eyes, led him to act so.

“As you wish, Sire.”

“Would not want you freezing to death on my account.”

“Can I…?”

“I…”

“I… do not know what to say… I… — Then you don’t need to say anything.”

“I will. — What?”

He chuckled at your incredulous expression.

“I will say something. — Oh.”

He brought you back to him again, kissing your cheek.

The last words murmured against your cheek, to the shell of your ear, elicited a burning anticipation deep in your bones.

“My King, I would never ever let anyone but me see you in this state. — I don’t think anyone had ever really seen me before you.”

“And I will never let anyone else see me like this. If you’ll have me, of course.”

His declaration hit your heart at an arrow’s speed.

“You really mean that? I’m not just a… — You’re not just anything. You are the world and beyond. You are everything. I hope to be everything to…”

Before he could finish, you pulled him down for another kiss. This one arousing and passionate; desires trapped, finally meeting in the middle.

“I will. I absolutely will.”

A heartbeat passed in his arms, trying to keep your hands to yourselves.

“You were asking me to… — … court and eventually marry you? Yes. And you said yes, you cannot take it back now.”

Your laughter rang through him as it rang through the stables, enlightening the new day ahead.

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Text

Holding On

“What are you doing out this early, melon?”

You had no good answer for that. Knowing he was leaving was one thing. Seeing him do so, even in your dreams, was another. Every departure was a torment for you.

Your lips curled sadly with your next words.

“Why did you not say goodbye, Haldir?”

“I thought I did. What is happening to you?”

“I am sorry. I fear my future loneliness at your departure is haunting me in advance.”

“And you woke up this early because of it? Have I altered your sleeping by my rudeness? — Do not flatter yourself that much, Haldir.”

“I have made a decision.”

His eyebrows rose.

“What kind of decision? — About… us.”

His heart skipped a beat, and his breath shortened. He frowned even more, at a loss for words.

“We have been friends for a long and appreciable time. — Yes, we have. — Please do not interrupt me, it is already so hard to do…”

“As a token of my appreciation, I want you to have this.”

“I also want you to wait until you are at your post.”

He looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“Humour me. — Oh, I will.”

You laughed with him this time, inclining your head on one side. He found it entirely too endearing.

“I will, I promise. — Thank you.”

The letter clutched in his hand, he found himself speechless again.

A loud sound announced his departure. A few of his comrades passed you by. They soon waited by the end of the path for him to follow.

“Goodbye, my friend.”

While saying the words, he grabbed what was his, placing your letter in an inside pocket close to his heart. You noticed. You smiled as brightly as you could.

“Safe travels, my friend.”

On the paper, read the following.

“Dear friend,

You have known me to be meek, but when I am with you, I become brave. I want to be brave with you.

Again, if you do not wish for me in those ways, I will understand. That ring, nevertheless, shall always be yours, for I will never love anyone else.

With love, Your friend.”

“Are you alright? — I am. Now go back to your posts, please.”

None of them could have figured out what was happening in Haldir’s head the whole time.

You waited for an answer.

It never came.

As well as tears. So much tears growing in your eyes dying on your lips, nesting in your throat, making your skin damp when he reached for your face. How could he had let this happen?

“Why are you here? — I love you.”

He figured that in the state you were in, brutality was the swiftest way of ripping this sadness away. He did not think far enough to predict the anger that would follow.

“And you’re only telling me now!”

He did not have another mission yet, as far as you knew. The only logical places he could be were the bathhouse or his chambers. You chose the latter. You stomped into his bedroom with no warning.

“You did not say goodbye, Haldir.”

“No, you did not this time. — I did not?! How… — Please…”

“If you start this… — I know.”

You felt the edge of a silver ring you knew by heart around his finger. You bit your lips hard and kissed him again, even harder.

There was no letting go now.

Only holding on.

#one-shot #lotr imagine #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #haldir x reader #haldir x you #lothlorien

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epilogue-and-prologue · 8 months

Text

Blue Moon

There was something hypnotising about his hands.

“What are you thinking about?”

A chilly breeze rose, and you had to tighten the cloth around your shoulder, crossing your arms close to your chest.

“Nothing important, Sire.”

A laugh echoed through the wooden box around you.

“Then why are you boring a hole in my skull with your staring?”

Your cheek felt warmer than they had been moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, sire. If you need me to go, I… — No. Stay.”

Eomer had not meant for his voice to grow this loud. Nor to turn around so abruptly. The nerves in him, electrified by your eyes, led him to act so.

“As you wish, Sire.”

“Would not want you freezing to death on my account.”

“Can I…?”

“I…”

“I… do not know what to say… I… — Then you don’t need to say anything.”

“I will. — What?”

He chuckled at your incredulous expression.

“I will say something. — Oh.”

He brought you back to him again, kissing your cheek.

The last words murmured against your cheek, to the shell of your ear, elicited a burning anticipation deep in your bones.

“My King, I would never ever let anyone but me see you in this state. — I don’t think anyone had ever really seen me before you.”

“And I will never let anyone else see me like this. If you’ll have me, of course.”

His declaration hit your heart at an arrow’s speed.

“You really mean that? I’m not just a… — You’re not just anything. You are the world and beyond. You are everything. I hope to be everything to…”

Before he could finish, you pulled him down for another kiss. This one arousing and passionate; desires trapped, finally meeting in the middle.

“I will. I absolutely will.”

A heartbeat passed in his arms, trying to keep your hands to yourselves.

“You were asking me to… — … court and eventually marry you? Yes. And you said yes, you cannot take it back now.”

Your laughter rang through him as it rang through the stables, enlightening the new day ahead.

#eomer xf!reader #eomer imagine #eomer x reader #lotr imagine #one-shot #lotr fic #it's sotwk's fault #fluff

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