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#boromir gif imagine
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LOTR and Hobbit NSFW headcanons
(I’m in my lotr horny era and this list could probably be added to 😂)
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Boromir:
- His favourite position is missionary with your ankles on his shoulders so he can see your body, especially your tits
- Sex during sparring sessions
- Isn’t very rough in the bedroom but when you fuck during sparring he loves to grab you, force your head down and grab your hips hard
- Can be a little subby
- Loves to be put in his place
- Doesn’t like being or giving spanking but isn’t opposed to getting a couple face slaps
- Likes being bossed around but not degraded
- Wants you to call him ‘captain’ in the bedroom
- “Who own your cock, captain? Who fucks you this good?”
- Is a big ol tiddy boy
- Hand over the shoulder and lightly touching your boob
- “Boromir not in public”
- Not super sexual but after a long day he falls to his knees in front of you for you to hold him
- Will say “oh fuck” as he slides into you
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Eomer:
- Very typical but loves when you ride him, loves being able to see and grab all of you
- Lots of riding dirty talk
- “Ride my cock hard, darling. Come on and fuck me hard. Use those gorgeous fucking hips of yours”
- Will guide your hips as you ride him
- Seeing you ride an actual horse turns him on too
- Loooovveesss having his hair pulled
- Especially when hes between your legs or against a wall
- Bending you over his desk and taking you by flipping your dress up and fucking you hard
- When you get a bit drunk you grab his ass and biceps and he loves it
- Loves when you tell him how strong he is, like almost over the top flirting gets him for some reason
- “Oh Eomer, you have such big arms” you tell him all breathy and grabby
- Is so sweet and gentle with you
- But
- When he returns from a battle he will fuck you hard and make you scream
- Very possessive
- “Scream my name, baby, let everyone know who fucks you this good”
- Constantly grabbing you to sit on his lap, especially at parties
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Legolas:
- Sensitive ear kiinnnkkk!
- He definitely whimpers during sex
- No matter who’s on top or if he’s being submissive or dominant he always says ‘thank you’ when his cock slides inside you
- Loves to run his fingertips over you so gently and sweet
- Could gently play with your pussy for hours
- Straddling him while he’s on his knees is easily one of his favourite positions
- Being able to hold you so close to him
- Loves listening to your heart beat after sex
- Holding you and pressing his head to your chest
- Loves after sex head scratches too
- When he is a sub he loves edging
- Begging little baby
- “Please, ma’am, please let me cum. Please I’ve been such a good boy”
- Is a good boy
- When he’s dominant he’s very gentle
- Doesn’t really fuck you fast but more hard and bruising thrusts
- Mutters things in Sindarin when he’s lost in pleasure
- Whispering dirty talk in Sindarin in your ear, whether you understand it or not
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Aragorn:
- Isnt opposed to tying you up but prefers to bond you by manhandling you
- Says such sweet things to you while fucking you hard
- “Oh princess, you take my cock so good”
- Having to put his hand over your mouth while he finger fucks you
- Forced quiet sex
- “Be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. Don’t want these people to hear you do you?”
- For some reason it turns him on when you smoke his pipe
- Doesn’t like to fuck when he’s been drinking but loves to watch how you dance when you’ve been drinking
- It usually ends with heavy makeout session and touching each other but he doesn’t like full on sex when one of you is drunk
- He loves to watch it from afar too, sit in the corner and watch how your body moves
- Even when you dance with Merry and Pippin on top of tables he thinks it’s so hot
- Will just start saying full sentences and dirty talk in Sindarin while he takes you from behind
- He gets so lost that he can’t help himself
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Haldir:
- Outdoor sex
- Pulling your hair while he takes you from behind up against a tree
- The good old sensual archery lessons while he whispers in your ear
- Loves teasing you, especially by standing behind you and whispering in your ear
- “Yes marchwarden!” “Thank you, sir!”
- Slight degradation kink but nothing that actually hurts you
- “Oh look at how you blush just from my words, darling”
- Height kink
- Corners you and standing close and above you just to look you down and make you blush
- Fucks you stupid
- Like your head lulls and your eyes go all misty
- Chasing you down in the forest and fucking you when he catches you
- One of the few lotr fellas I can see being into violent fucking
- He’s rough with how he fucks but he’s just as if not more gentle and caring with aftercare
- Degradation to raise real quick
- “Take my cock just like the whore you are” “Oh my darling, you did such a good job, Meleth. Such a good girl for me”
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Thorin:
- This man has the biggest breeding kink
- “Give me an heir, my queen. Let me fill your womb”
- Staring you right in the eyes while he finger fuck you
- Obviously throne sex
- Almost cums in his pants when he sees you in your crown for the first time
- Isn’t usually submissive but you can make him do anything when you wear that crown
- Holds you down by your hips while I fucks you from behind
- Will whisper Khuzdul into your ear while he fucks you
- Fucks you rough but doesn’t want to actually ever hurt or scare you
- The second you’re uncomfortable he will stop and hold you, he’ll even sing to you
- Loves to know he can take care of you
- Such sweet dirty talk
- You’re either his queen or his good girl, no in between
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Thranduil:
- Is dominant 99% of the time
- Doesn’t always like when you’re on top but when you are he likes to force your hips to move while he fucks into you
- Wants you to say ‘thank you’ when you cum
- Does want to fuck you hard and rough but will wait and double, triple check before even trying
- Face fucking you stupid
- Is so gentle and soothing with aftercare
- Treats you like a sweet princess during aftercare
- Cockwarming while he does work
- Size kink, loves how much taller he is and how his cock barely fits in you
- “Look how your tiny pussy takes my big cock” “oh, darling, I don’t think it will fit”
- If you’re a human he also has a massive age kink
- “You’re such a sweet little girl for me”
- Staring down at you with your face covered in cum
- Not opposed to some good old pet play
- Is both cruel and loving
- Degrades his dirty little slut pet while he uses them just for his pleasure
- Loves having you sit in his lap and have you curl up to him and hold his sweet little darling
- Holds you and kisses you while you ride his thigh
- Strokes your hair while you hump his boot and look up to him with big desperate eyes
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Kili:
- Biggest turn on for him is seeing you dance and jump around
- The way your face flushes and your tits bounce makes him crazy
- Loves being both babied and degraded
- If he could live between your tits he would
- Sitting in your lap, panting and whimpering as he thrusts his hips into your hand
- Mutual masturbation
- Doesn’t like to be hurt too badly but does love spanking and overstimulation
- Shows off whenever you watch him train
- Even if he’s shorter than you he still loves showing his strength by carrying you
- Carry’s you to the bath after sex and takes his time washing your body and your hair
- Just wants to be your good boy
- No thoughts, just be good boy and love boobs
- Does not have mommy issues but does have mommy style kinks
- Loves sucking on your nipples
- (honestly that gif does things to me 🥵🥵)
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Fili:
- Knife kink!
- He’d never use his knife on you in a dangerous way but does love to cut your clothes off you
- His beard braids feel amazing and ticklish between your legs
- Hand on your thigh always, during sexual times or not
- Polar opposite things will turn him on
- While you’re fighting he gets hard and wants you to grab his hair and use his cock
- When he sees you taking care of babies his breeding kink comes out hard
- “I’m going to fuck a baby into your womb. We’re not leaving until you’re full of my cum”
- Loves to fuck you in the woods especially when it’s risky
- While on the journey to reclaim his home he liked to take you into the woods and fuck you
- He loved that you had to be so quiet but still he could hear your little whimpers
- He is a prince and next in line to the throne so he has to keep PDA to a minimum
- That doesn’t stop him from grabbing at your thigh under the table and whispering dirty things in your ear in the middle of a party
- Playfully slaps your ass while you’re changing
- Skinny dipping 👌🏻👌🏻
- He has no problem keeping you warm 😏😏
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Bard:
- Loves to cum all over your face
- Lots of pet names during
- “Oh darling you feel amazing” “cum for me sweetheart”
- Forced quiet sex
- Packing your wet underwear in his bag while he’s away, he does smell it while he touches himself
- Such a dirty man but great at hiding it
- Loves the noises you make when his beard scratches your neck
- Bit of a caretaking kink
- Gets really horny when you massage him, cook for him, bandage him up, wash him in the bath
- Takes you fishing so he can finger you on his boat
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ironmandeficiency · 10 months
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the fellowship + romance
characters included: aragorn, boromir, gimli, legolas, pippin
word count: 1177
summary: just some soft shit bc these men are all sappier than any tree in the greenwood
a/n: there’s still an overwhelming lack of gimli content that needs to be fixed and i will do my part
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aragorn 🗡️
aragorn’s quiet presence is the warmest blanket on a cold night, the first bite of a meal you slaved over for hours, every comfort you’ve ever experienced
he’s never been one for overwhelming displays of his affections; instead, he shows you in simple ways that add up - giving you the more full bowls of broth, laying his blanket over you if he notices you shivering during night watch, sharpening your weapons (this one had gimli nearly brought to tears by the devotion it spoke of), anything that helps your days pass easier
he grew up around stories of elves who committed astounding feats in the name of those they loved, fighting wars and risking their lives with alarming frequency. but none of them ever talked about the everyday ways they showed love. his mother taught him what she could about those things, stories of his father’s steady presence and stalwart love for his family. a young aragorn took these lessons to heart and used them when the time was right
it was why, when he caught his heart skipping beats around you, he let his actions do the speaking for him. without fail you would thank him with a soft smile, slowly coming to realize that aragorn felt something much deeper for you than camaraderie. when you woke up early one morning to find your weapons sharper than they were the day before (not for the first time), you went straight to aragorn and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. he nearly dropped your bowl of stew in his flustered state
having your affections secured didn’t mean he stopped his small acts of kindness, it did quite the opposite. it just made him bolder and more confident in his actions
boromir 🍻
this man is so damn tactile it’s ridiculous
if you’re the cuddly type like he is, it makes him all the more eager to always have some form of physical contact with you, no matter where you may be
unless you tell him to back off, he is always touching you one way or another. a gentle hand on the small of your back, your pinkies interlocked, an arm wrapped around your shoulder, anything to keep you close to him
his favorite time of day eventually becomes the end of it, because that’s when he can hold you close and whisper soft words of love in your ear while he holds you. he makes it his goal to give you a goodnight kiss every night you spend together
the best cuddle position in his mind is you leaning your back against his chest, one of his hands resting on your hip where his thumb rubs small circles above the bone, and his chin resting on your shoulder just right to where he can turn his head to kiss your cheek or burrow his face into your neck
gimli 🛡️
valiantly is the best way to describe how gimli approaches any situation he comes upon, including (and especially) matters of the heart
this is a dwarf who says what he means & means what he says, who does nothing that he wouldn’t be proud of the next day. because of this, you couldn’t find it in you to not believe him when he professed his love for you with such unwavering confidence you were nearly brought to tears. gimli never said anything just because his lips could move so you simply had to believe him
will do you favors big and small simply because he wants to help you however possible. you can’t remember the last time you carried your own pack or made your own bowl of soup. if you encouraged him (which you wouldn’t), this romantic fool would not let you lift another finger for as long as you both live
he grew up watching his parents with keen eyes, his adad showing him by example how a true dwarf treats their one. he embodies these lessons with every interaction with you, striving to be the one you deserve him to be. it ranges from the ferocity of his protection to opening doors for you. may mahal strike him down if he ever hurts you
he just wants to be a dwarf you’re proud to love, proud to call yours
legolas 🏹
physical affection can be difficult for him, but one thing legolas is good at doing is speaking his mind and his heart
if you thought his regular speaking pattern was overflowing with poetic descriptors, you’ve heard nothing compared to when he’s being truly romantic. no one you’d been with before had ever described you with such beautiful prose, never whispered soft poetry about your eyes to lull you to sleep
and he’s a cheeky bastard about it too! it’ll be a regular conversation between friends, nothing important, then BAM! he’s making quippy one-liners about your overwhelming skill/beauty/personality that catch you off guard and has your friends cackling at your flustered reaction to his flattery
even better, his praise will often include sindarin and on the off chance you don’t speak it, you’ll have to gauge the meaning from the silent looks shared between your dear elf and aragorn (doesn’t really work). eventually legolas tells you what some of them mean; after all, he needs to have an element of intrigue about him or his name isn’t legolas thranduillion
he carries a lot of pride for you and will brag about you to anyone who listens, his melleth being one of unparalleled skill and beauty and bright laughter that carries his soul on great wings
pippin 🥕
his already strong need to be silly and foolish grows exponentially when he finds out how happy it makes you
pip doesn’t care what it is you ask of him, he will do anything to hear your laugh. he’ll put baby carrots in his nostrils, respond to conversations exclusively in farm animal noises, he will even do his spot-on impressions of the rest of the fellowship and make them say all sorts of silly things
the best one to date is him doing an aragorn impression that consists of all the different ways he says legolas’s name
you’ve never heard such astounding colloquialisms from anyone until you met pippin - “don’t eat half the berries and say the pie shell’s too big,” “his cornbread isn’t done in the middle,” “if brains were leather, he wouldn't have enough to saddle a junebug” - and each time he says one, there’s always a not-so-subtle look to you so he can see your reaction. the ones that get the most laughs are used a little bit more, just enough to not lose their appeal but enough to hear your laughter all the more often
there is a single-minded determination to hear your snort when you laugh at something he says, and he will not rest until you do. his personal goal to do this resets each time you do actually snort, him now aiming for the next joke or prank that will bring it out again
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estelofrivendell · 7 months
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Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir's Love Languages
ARAGORN
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I think he's the most romantic of the three and specialises in words of affirmation. He knows what to say that you swear he has an ability to read minds but he just knows you that well. He will never forget to compliment your appearance, your skill and your personality because he wants you to feel appreciated and know how much he loves you.
LEGOLAS
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The least romantic of the three, but give him some credit, he tries. That being said, gift giving completes him; whenever he finds something that reminds him of you, you best believe he'll get it and give it to you the moment he sees you. I always saw him as creative and skilled in the arts; he would give you a beautiful painting out of the blue and he had to explain that he made it himself. He doesn't expect anything in return, but he does melt when you get him something he really likes.
BOROMIR
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Ah, Boromir. He's super romantic and has a way with words, but for him, physical touch >>>> anything else. Hand holding, kissing, hugging (whether in front or from behind) or offering a massage, do all of them, he loves it and doesn't have a preference. You two can constantly be found in each other's embrace, sometimes asleep. He seeks intimacy and wants to be close to you; for him physical touch, is the best way to do that.
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A/N: I'm suffering from writer's block once again and I can't sleep so here's a small bit from me while I try to get inspired to write another fic <3
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Y/N: You’d be stupid to lay a hand on me.
Boromir: Oh, you’d be surprised how much stupid shit I do.
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hottpinkpenguin · 1 year
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Knees - Boromir X Fem!Reader
Oneshot, word count: 3,167 Summary: You've tried to keep your feelings for Gondor's favored captain a secret, and done a damn good job. Until now. Warnings: angst, fluff, heavy steam, implied oral sex A/n: the poem in this oneshot borrows heavily from the lyrics of 'Old Gods' by Emily Scott Robinson (highly recommend her music if you enjoy Nanci Griffith, James Taylor, or Joni Mitchell)
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Boromir could feel the beginnings of a headache pulsing at his temples. The din of the crowd milling around the Tower Hall was grating on his last nerve. His father had insisted on an extravagant banquet to celebrate his recent successes as the High Warden of the White Tower, but Boromir would have preferred to rest and spend the evening strolling through the streets of Gondor unbothered. Eager to get away from the crowd, Boromir strode out of the busy throne room onto the south facing balcony.
The night air was warm and smelled of jasmine. Boromir took a deep inhale, leaning his hands on the rail of the balcony and gazing out over the Pelennor Fields, the expanse of grassland that stretched out from Minas Tirith’s feet towards the banks of the Anduin. Boromir strained his eyes against the dim twilight; he thought he could make out the parapets of Osgiliath, Gondor’s first capital, now little more than a ruined river crossing. Faramir was there, as commander of the city’s garrison. Boromir had ordered his brother to oversee repairs to the old city to prepare for the coming battle. Beyond the dark smudge of Osgiliath’s long-vacant towers, an ominous blackness loomed over the land of Mordor. His thoughts turned bleak as he wondered what was stirring behind the mountains in that black land. Scouts reports had confirmed that orcs were-
Boromir jumped at the tinny clang of something metal hitting the stone floor in a darkened corner of the balcony. Instinctually, Boromir’s right hand grasped at the hilt of his sword and unsheathed it in barely more than a breath. He crouched into a warrior’s pose, his sword held out in front of him and his features steely as he looked for the source of the noise.
The quickness of his movements startled you almost as much as your clumsiness had startled him. You were glad for the darkness as you felt your face flush with embarrassment at your discovery. You hadn’t expected the High Captain of Gondor to skip out on his own banquet; in fact, you’d been counting on having the balcony all to yourself, so you’d be able to write in peace. There certainly wouldn’t be anymore of that, now that the small candelabra you’d been using for light was in two pieces on the stone floor. 
You leapt to your feet, muttering apologies and trying to keep your heart from beating out of your chest. You’d never been so close to Boromir before, and certainly not alone in the dark. Your mouth went dry at the realization. 
As one of the Steward’s personal scribes, you’d spent most of your life in the Tower Hall of Minas Tirith. On occasion, your work brought you into close contact with both of Denethor’s sons. Faramir was something of a friend to you, despite the difference in your stations. You both shared a love of the written word and his quiet temperament mirrored yours, making you fast friends. But it was Faramir’s older brother, the handsome and lordly High Warden, that made you go weak in the knees. It had been that way since you’d been old enough to notice such things.
You’d always admired him from a distance and kept your desires to yourself, confiding your feelings only in the pages of your journals. Nothing would come of your infatuation, you knew; Boromir was next in line for the Steward’s role, which was the closest thing Gondor had to a king. His title required him to wed someone of noble birth, and you knew his father would have nothing but the best for his favorite son. While your family was not poor and your duties as a scribe were a great source of pride to them, you did not have the aristocratic heritage needed to be a worthy match for the High Warden. And even if you did, he’s never looked twice at you, a harsh inner voice reminded you, causing your fragile heart to crumple at the reminder.
“Forgive me, my lord, I didn’t wish to disturb you.” Your voice sounded small and pathetic, and you felt your cheeks blaze with renewed embarrassment. 
Boromir relaxed at the sound of your voice, dropping his sword and chuckling softly. 
“You shouldn’t make a habit of startling armed men, you know,” Boromir chided you gently as he bent to pick up the fragments of the broken candelabra at your feet. He was so close that you could see the seams on his blue brocade tunic. When he stood, the candelabra in his hands, he stood almost a half foot taller than you. If you’d been bold enough to hold his gaze, you would have been forced to incline your chin up at him. But you kept your eyes fixed intently on the gray stone floor, hoping he couldn’t hear the erratic thudding of your heart in your chest. He was so close you swore you could feel the faint tickle of his breath on your temple. Your skin erupted in flames where his breath danced over it.
“I’ll make a note of that, my Lord,” you stammered in reply, barely able to keep your voice from breaking. 
“Please, Y/N, how long have you known me? Dispense with the ‘my Lord’ nonsense, I beg you. I’ve heard enough of that tonight.” The sound of your name in his voice sent a thrill running up your spine. You hadn’t realized that Boromir knew you apart from the dozens of other faces he saw on a daily basis around the halls of the Steward’s quarters. That fact, coupled with the High Warden’s closeness, scattered your thoughts like marbles on a smooth floor until you didn’t trust yourself not to press yourself against him, twine your fingers in his hair, press your lips to his, run your hands along the planes of his stomach, pant his name until you were breathless, grab his-
You audibly let out a small, breathless gasp as you tore yourself away and bid your feet to run. You knew that if you stayed that close to him for one more second you would do something irreparable and shameful. All you heard as you left, practically sprinting away into the relative safety of the well-lit throne room, was the blood pounding in your head. It drowned out the sound of the night breeze, the sounds of the party, and the sound of Boromir calling after you…
**********
Boromir watched as y/n scurried away like a frightened animal into the banquet room once again. He must have misread the signals, must have misinterpreted the tension in the air between them. Boromir wasn’t used to being rebuffed in his advances; most people were swayed by his easy charm, his skill with a sword, and his title at the very least. But y/n seemed immune to him, always preferring the quiet company of Faramir. Feeling frustrated and embarrassed, he called out after y/n, but his voice was swallowed up by the sounds of merriment in the throne room. 
“You damn fool,” Boromir cursed to himself as he ran a regretful hand through his hair. He tossed away the broken pieces of y/n’s candelabra, anger at his misstep boiling in his chest as he made to stride off. It was then that he saw it, resting precariously on the balcony’s railing. A small, leather-bound journal. 
Boromir hadn’t noticed it earlier, although he recognized it instantly. Y/n always carried such a journal. Aside from Faramir, it was y/n’s most steadfast companion. 
Boromir froze, eyeing the diary, a conflict raging within him. He knew that whatever contents the journal held were private and to open it constituted a violation of honor. The thought twisted like a knife in his gut. But, on the other hand, Boromir had always longed for a peak into y/n’s mind. For reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, Boromir knew that there was beauty there, if only he could access it. 
He hesitated for only a moment, casting a wary glance back towards the banquet hall. If y/n saw him, Boromir’s far-flung hopes would be dashed forever. No one was looking, and y/n had disappeared into the crowd. It was now or never.
Like a man dying of thirst, Boromir grabbed the journal greedily and cracked it open, his eyes roving the pages and drinking in the words. It was a journal, but so much more. There were smatterings of poetry: some of it original, Boromir deduced, but some of it copied down from y/n’s work in Minas Tirith’s library. Every so often, Boromir found a sketch. Most of it was of Minas Tirith, drawn from the vantage point of the mountains that rose up behind the city. A few horses, children, nondescript landscapes. They were beautiful renderings, detailed and delicate in the linework, incredibly lifelike. 
He continued to flip through the journal. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but in his eagerness to scour the entirety of the book he found he couldn’t focus on any one page for longer than a moment. 
Not until he found his own likeness staring out of the page up at him. 
Boromir recognized himself in y/n’s drawing immediately, although the pen-and-ink Boromir seemed finer somehow. Boromir’s heart pirouetted in his chest as he drank in the drawing, trying to decipher where it was that y/n’s drawing deviated from reality. Y/n had captured the line of his jaw perfectly, even the small scar above his right eyebrow. His hair was rough and unkempt looking, as if he’d just returned from a horseback ride, and he wore his simple fighting leathers. The eyes and lips were a perfect mirror to his own, but still there was something about the drawing… 
His eyes slid down the page to where, at the very bottom of the drawing, he saw a single line of small, impeccably neat handwriting:
A King in a long line of Stewards
Boromir felt the breath hitch in his throat. The sentiment was simple but beautiful, and it touched something very deep inside him. 
The feverish hunger to devour the journal’s contents in a single gulp from moments before slowed and dwindled to something much more tender. Boromir flipped the page slowly, the same neat handwriting covering the backside of the sheaf of paper where his portrait was drawn.
You must be a trick of the memory that the old gods are playing on me,
You travel with my love over plains, mountains and seas.
Your blue eyes are there when I close mine, 
Your voice chases me while I dream,
My heart cries out in the darkness for you,
The roots of the world shake with its scream. 
I’ll drown in this desire and choke on this need,
Say you’re mine once and I’ll fall to my knees.
Boromir read the lines more times than he could count, luxuriating in the words until he could hardly breathe. He knew y/n’s words when he heard them, although he’d never heard anything close to this. Never dared to hope that anything approximating this was in y/n’s heart. His mind danced with a misty light, his heart suffused with warmth. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, using the fading light of the banquet inside to read the lines over and over again until he had them memorized. 
At some point he surfaced from his reverie, his heart beating erratically against his ribs. He stood up from where he’d sat against the railing, smoothing the front of his tunic and the sides of his hair. With a final inhale, he strode off purposefully, weaving through the thinning crowd of Gondor’s nobility, ignoring their greetings. He didn’t hesitate until he found himself standing in front of y/n’s door. Shakily, unsure of what he was about to say, he knocked twice. 
**********
You heard two soft knocks at your door. You glanced at the moon outside, surprised that anyone would pay you a visit this late. It was nearing midnight, you guessed. There was a fluttery feeling in your chest coupled with a pit in your stomach that you hadn’t been able to soothe with either tea or a warm bath. You felt as if you were losing your mind by inches. You’d spent your entire life, more or less, in Boromir’s home and you’d crossed his path hundreds of times before. Why now were you suddenly undone like a smitten child? Your feelings for him weren’t new, so why were you abruptly unable to control them?
You tried to push those thoughts from your mind as you crossed your chamber and unlatched your door. You suspected it would be Teithand, the master scribe. On rare occasions he gave you a special assignment and made a habit of visiting your private chambers to discuss the details of these duties at all hours of the day or night. 
But the figure darkening your doorway wasn’t dressed in the long, cream robes of a scribe, but instead in the formalwear of Gondorian nobility. 
Boromir smiled at you, and the sight of him, leaning casually against your door frame and close to you set your heart ablaze again. The thoughts you’d tenuously strung together shattered and your breath hitched in your throat. 
When you saw the small journal clutched in the High Warden’s hands, however, your stomach fell into your feet. Horror and something deeper than shame consumed you in an instant. 
You hardly had time to process what was happening before Boromir stepped into your chamber confidently. He tossed your journal onto the bed behind you, his now empty hands coming to the small of your back and the side of your face as he caught your lips with his.
You froze. You’d lost all semblance of coherent thought. The whiplash of emotions had left you feeling terrified. Thankfully, your body reacted faster than either your head or your heart. 
As if you’d done it a thousand times before, your lips moved in sync with Boromir’s and your hands tangled in the thick strands of his auburn hair. You gave yourself over to instinct as your mind dissolved under the pressure of his lips. His breath washed over you - warm and ragged - as the two of you pressed your bodies against each other, eager to melt together in the quiet dark of your chamber. His hands roamed over you, tentatively at first, but faster and firmer as you responded to his touch with neediness. You heard a small, desperate groan escape from the back of his throat; the sound of it almost sent you catapulting over the edge of the logic. 
You caught yourself in the instant before you lost all control of yourself, breaking the kiss and pulling back just enough to catch his eyes. 
“Boromir, what is thi-”
“I’m yours,” he whispered back, cutting you off with his words followed by another kiss. This time his lips refused to stay contained to yours. He tipped your head back, exposing your neck to him as his mouth moved along its length. The places where his lips connected with your skin burned like a brand. You felt a heat building deep inside your core. 
“I’m yours, Y/N” he said again. This time it was him who had the sense to pull away. You were panting, and you would have been self-conscious if it weren’t for the fact that he too was on the verge of gasping. His hands came to either side of your face, framing them as his eyes bored into yours. 
“Aren’t you…” Boromir’s question died on his lips, replaced by an impish grin. He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes moving between your face and the ground beneath your feet. Between the confusion starting to coalesce in your head (what the hell is going on? the rational part of you screamed) and your body alight with desire, you didn’t have enough wherewithal to decipher his meaning. 
“Aren’t I what?” you asked dumbly. A sliver of anxiety spliced its way into your chest… maybe what you were seeing in Boromir’s eyes was just the neediness of a lord looking at someone he knew was game for a tumble in bed, and not the mirror image of your satisfaction at the fulfillment of a long-denied devotion. 
“Going to fall to your knees,” Boromir replied, placing a soft, gentle kiss on your lips. It was almost a question, as if he were asking you. The brazenness of his request startled you, but the heat in your core blazed in response. There was also something familiar about his words…
“In your journal… you wrote, ‘say you’re mine once and I’ll fall to my knees’… I’ve said it twice now, and yet here you stand.” He chuckled softly, his lips dancing along your jaw and over your cheeks as you tried to catch up to his meaning. 
Then, like a clap of thunder, it clicked. The poem. You’d written it over a year ago, the night after Boromir had left Minas Tirith with a garrison of Gondor’s guards to ride to an outpost at the southern border. You’d almost forgotten your words - you’d written so many of them, all of them for him. 
You let you a small laugh in surprise and a hint of embarrassment.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it was rude to read another’s writings, my Lord?” You emphasized the last two words, shooting him a wicked smile as you made good on your written promise and sank to your knees in front of him. Your fingers went to work on the lacing of his trousers, the urgency of the moment rekindling between you. Boromir caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to catch his gaze. He looked breathtaking, standing over you. A King in a long line of Stewards, you thought as you drank in the sight of him. 
“Call me Boromir,” he said simply. “I won’t have you calling me ‘my Lord’ for the rest of our days together.” His tone was casual, but you could hear the intention of his words. You hesitated only momentarily before returning to the task at hand. You broke into a smile, wide and triumphant, and although your attention was focused elsewhere, Boromir’s expression matched yours exactly…
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sotwk · 4 months
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Saw that Wet-Eomer and Wet-Boromir are themes here so here goes my 4AM brain...
Eomer with an Gondorian OFC, who decides to teach him to swim (between his duties and the lack of a suitable place to learn, our boy cannot swim) and when he's undressing, he slides in some mud so he ends up falling in while still in his shirt, pants, and boots. (Maybe after she laughs, Eomer tugs her in with him)
And..
Boromir falls out of the boats (between Lothlorien and Argonath) because he and Leggy were being a little goofy with the paddles. He manages not to let the little ones fall out, but he is definitely soaking. He has to dry out by Sam's cookfire afterwards.
BRILLIANT. JUST BRILLIANT!!!
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Can we get some writers on these imagines, please? Pronto?
I mean... a "Gondorian OFC" who lives near a body of water and is probably good at swimming. Don't we already know a canon lady who fits those qualifications? XD Any Lothiriel fans want to take this one? I do adore the headcanon that Eomer cannot swim, though! I've been racking my brain for weaknesses and I'm kinda kicking myself now not to think of this one!
Boromir being a goofball while still taking care to protect the Hobbits is peak blorbo behavior! And when he dries out by the fire, he really should take the shirt OFF to hasten the process, right? Right?? What a fantastic fluffy drabble this would make!
Thank you again so much for sharing these! If anyone at all decides to write them, PLEASE TAG ME!
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well loved
preference summary: what they do to remind you you're loved.
content warnings: none
fandom: the lord of the rings
characters: frodo, sam, pippin, merry, boromir, faramir, aragorn, legolas, arwen, eowyn, eomer, galadriel, elrond (if other characters are wanted for future preferences, let me know!)
gender neutral reader
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Frodo: He always checks in on you, always wanting to make sure you were doing okay. He's one of those who is more in tune with emotions, and wanting to check in on emotional wellbeing. He wants you to know you'll always have someone to lean on, and he shows you love through his active listening of your problems.
Sam: He's the type to do small tasks around the house for you, wanting to make sure you don't have to worry about anything. He sets up a routine that's nice and homey. He wouldn't have you lifting a finger if he could, wanting to make sure you can be relaxed. You would have to step in at some points, saying you'd want to split the work.
Pippin: He makes you very well included on any inside jokes, wanting to you to know what it's like. He showed his love through humorous jokes, saying he always wanted to see your smile. His love may have been shown through jokes, but he made you feel truly seen, which was a wonderful way to be reminded you're loved by him.
Merry: He loves to give you parts of his food, wanting to make sure you were well fed. He feels wellbeing is tied to being well fed, so he wants to make sure you get a fair share. And I think that Merry himself likes to try cooking once in a while, and likes to give some cooking to you.
Boromir: He always carves out time in his schedule to spend quality time with you. He always loves to have meals together with you, wanting to make it romantic, with something as simple as bringing flowers for the vase in the middle. He shows his love through any amount of time spent with you, wanting to shower you with his compliments.
Faramir: He has subconscious movements to make sure you're okay and safe. Such as holding out a hand during hikes in an area that's heavily rooted, wanting to make sure of your safety to help you balance and find your way. He also loves to place a hand on your back in crowded areas. He always has a special look of love, reserved just for you.
Aragorn: He always likes to recite poetry or songs he comes across that reminds him of you. He always gives you the softest of looks during those moments, and these moments are usually done by the fires in your room. He usually has your back against him, as he whispers them into your ear.
Legolas: He finds a variety of plants that reminds him of you, always bringing them back for you to look at or put somewhere that you deem cool. It's gotten to the point where there's almost too many flowers in your living space, but you also don't have the heart to tell him to stop. It's really sweet to see the variety of flowers he hand picked for you.
Arwen: She loves to sneak kisses from you throughout the day. She's playful, so her showing her love is through playful ways. She loves to take you off guard of when she'll kiss you, and she always loves hearing your laugh afterwards. She loves to watch you get flustered, laughing as she rushes away.
Eowyn: She loves quality time to, wanting to spend time with you. Her favorite ways to showing you love is teaching you some of her favorite moves in training. She shows you what she has learned, and also wants to learn what you know. She wants to make sure the both of you are prepared for anything, and it's a nice way to spend time with each other.
Eomer: He loves to go horseback riding with you. It provides a time where the two of you can talk in peace, where he doesn't feel the pressure of the kingdom. He loves talking with you here, where the two of you don't feel watched. It's a sense of freedom to speak your minds, but the act of horseback riding allows you to go anywhere. He loves to explore with you that way.
Galadriel: She loves turning to you for advice. She may not always agree, but she loves to hear what you have to say. She finds that hearing a variety of perspectives helps her, and she feels that it helps her get closer to you. She always likes to hear what you have to say about some decisions in how she runs her kingdom.
Elrond: He likes to spoil you, simple as that. It doesn't even have to be buying you many things, although he loves doing that as well. It can be just as well showering you with praise, or giving you his full attention, even if it means ignoring his work for a little bit. He loves at his fullest, spoiling you with many things you love.
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gondorimagines · 1 year
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Imagine complimenting Boromir on his looks, and him being secretly flattered, because although he's praised quite often, it's never about his appearance.
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vee-vee-writes · 1 year
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Amongst the Stars (Boromir x fem!reader)
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Veiled in the cold light of the stars he looked as though he possessed the gifts of the Eldar. Boromir, son of Denethor, possessed an ethereal glow the like you had never seen held by a son of man. He seemed godly, a deity, a spirit veiling himself and venturing down to Middle Earth wandering amongst the folk disguised as a man. Yet here he stood before you on the edge of Imladris eyes bright, hand outstretched to you. With an easy smile he beckoned to you, “will you dance with me my lady?”
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Imagine being Aragorns sister and Boromir calling you ‘Princess’ and ‘My Princess’
Y/N: “Here you are, Boromir” *hands bowl of soup*
Boromir: “Thank you, my princess” *winks*
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********
Y/N: *bandaging up wound*
Boromir: “Let me help you, princess”
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*******
Y/N: *saves Boromir in battle* “Better watch your back, Captain!” *winks*
Boromir: “To be saved by my princess, what a blessing!”
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*******
Merry and Pippin: *tackle Boromir*
Boromir: “Help me, Princess! They’re vicious warriors and I need saving!”
Y/N: “Talk about a damsel in distress”
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ironmandeficiency · 10 months
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the advice of hobbits
pairing: boromir / reader
word count: 728
summary: boromir is educated on the hobbit language of flowers, but is woefully uninformed about how your body reacts to said flowers
a/n: my april piece for the year of themed creation! maybe i’ll catch up eventually? who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️ tagging @oonajaeadira & @yearofcreation2023
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“oi merry! boromir has a cruuuuuush!” “who do ya think he fancies, pip?” “do i even have to say?” “no, i don’t think you d-AAAH!”
boromir interrupts the gossiping hobbits with a (mostly) playful tackle, clotheslining them both with one arm each
he knows they’re both young, pippin not even of majority by hobbit standards, but it’s moments like these that have him wanting to wring their necks like freshly washed laundry
the topic was changed once merry and pippin were freed from boromir’s wrath, but the young hobbits were far from deterred
for days after, they continued to pester their friend about you, from teasing comments about the puppy eyes boromir gave you to preposterous claims that your eyes mirrored his
the risk of you overhearing their silly banter was far too taxing on his nerves. he’s a warrior who has seen the darkest things humanity has to offer & faced them all with limitless courage, but that courage disappears when he thinks about you learning of his harbored affection
he didn’t believe he could survive the heartbreak that would come with your inevitable refusal of a courtship offer, so he chose instead to brood about it
“i still think you should tell ‘em,” pippin remarked out of the blue one day, catching him off guard. boromir couldn’t play dumb enough to avoid thinking of what you would say and he hated how your rejection circulated in his ears
“even if i wanted to, which i don’t, i do not believe a proposition in the ways of our people would end well.” the young hobbits knew this was code for “you deserve much better and i’m too much of a chicken to offer it to you” but wisely didn’t call him on it
“then do it the hobbit way, with flowers!” “why didn’t we think of that before? absolutely genius!”
the next half hour was spent educating the captain about the hobbit language of flowers: which ones were useful in romance, which ones he’d be wise to avoid, and how to arrange the good flowers properly to convey the right meaning
once the right flowers were retrieved, it was time to teach the skill of crown weaving. in one word, that whole ordeal could be described as dismal
it took dozens and dozens of flowers and endless patience for there to be a decent flower crown, but it finally happened
boromir was losing his nerve as time went on, you making a very clear effort to avoid him that slowly broke him down
even the younger hobbits were concerned at this strange development. you didn’t start avoiding boromir until he started using the flowers, but they were positive that you shared the same feelings as the gondorian. what gives?
it got to the point where boromir was starting to toss pieces of his hard work along their walks in hurt frustration. the boys wouldn’t let their friend give up on love so easily, so they collected each of the discarded pieces and saved them
they confront you on your avoidance of boromir in the most inconvenient way possible (because that’s how these two operate) by approaching you with some of boromir’s arrangements
you had no warning when the two hobbits plopped a massive pile of flowers in your lap, the residual pollen invading your nose in the most uncomfortable fashion
sneeze after sneeze wracked your body (even legolas looked concerned at the spectacle from across the fire) until you were saved from the flowery pile by boromir, who looked pissed as he discarded the blossoms yet again
your body was too busy rejecting the pollen that you didn’t notice the harsh looks merry and pip both were wearing before the took’s eyes betrayed the appearance of an enlightenment
“merry, they’re averse! they don’t hate boromir after all, it’s just the flowers!” this certainly caught merry’s attention and led to an enlightenment of his own.
“the flowers held no hobbity weight at all when they just made them sick! oh this is a great development!” “now they can confess their love for each other without fear of an attack!”
if looks could kill, pippin would be dead several times over (but he paid no heed to this of course, that’s just his nature)
boromir, now more than ever, wonders why he took the advice of these two silly hobbits
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estelofrivendell · 8 months
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Could you please write something about Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir with a short s/o who's a little bit insecure about their height? Bonus points if the reader isn't very curvy so they worry about being unattractive or mistaken for being younger than they actually are. Thanks!! It's so nice to see people writing for lotr still, so thank you for that!!!
A/N: People no longer write for LOTR? That's really unfortunate, this world has a lot of things to write about :( Truth be told, I haven't written for LOTR in three years (three years is a long time and I recognize fandoms change rapidly) and I've been suffering writers' block for two years after I wrote a lengthy series for another fandom. I hope you enjoy this, thank you for your request!
ARAGORN, LEGOLAS AND BOROMIR WITH A SHORT S/O WHO LOOKS YOUNGER THAN THEY REALLY ARE AND IS INSECURE ABOUT THEIR HEIGHT AND FRAME
ARAGORN
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It doesn't matter to him one bit that you're short and your body may not resemble what society deems "perfect", he will be the first to tell you you're beautiful the way you are. In fact, he finds your height endearing, since he's tall himself, even more so in the books. It's unique to him as he grew up with tall people but at the same time it's not a new concept to him since there are many short people in all the areas he's wandered in and encountered Hobbits before the timeline of LOTR (Did he? Not sure, don't really feel like fact checking that rn...) Also, he has his own experiences with not looking the age he really is, just the opposite of yours. This man is in his 80s but looks late 30s to early 40s and was raised his elves who never age, so it would not bother him one bit that you look younger than you really are.
LEGOLAS
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Legolas is an elf, so it never crossed his mind that you look younger than you really are. I also think elves aren't as worked up about body image the same way us humans are, so he doesn't think about that either. At first, he was confused why you're insecure about those features but he will do his best to make you feel better, even if what he says comes off a bit insensitive. What catches his interest is your short height and at first he teases you the way he teased Gimli, but he quickly noticed how you don't respond well to those kinds of banter, so he stopped. Overall, he has some learning to do but he will become better for you and he's grateful for it and makes him appreciate people not of his kind.
BOROMIR
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Not going to lie, I see Boromir as the kind of man that prefers his women taller so it might've amused him a bit when he first learned of his attraction to you. He thinks the height difference between you both is really cute and teases you a bit about it. He does not give a flying fuck that you aren't curvy and WILL call out anyone that has the audacity to give you shit about your body. Some people might give him dirty looks for picking a younger S/O to court instead of a lovely woman within his age range and he simply ignores them unless it somehow escalates into a major scandal. He doesn't realize that being seen younger than you really are affects you immensely, but when he does, he'll get right on reassuring you that there is nothing to worry about. Are you what he expected he would end up with? No, but he loves you more than anyone and anything and he would not have it any other way.
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edges-of-night · 9 months
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hi! i found your blog yesterday and i’m obsessed! i was wondering if you could do one where in Y/N’s culture give someone a hand-crafted object (like a wood carving), it’s a way of confessing without actually saying that they like that person, but only Gandolf and Aragorn know since they have traveled all around Middle Earth! Thanks so much for your time!
Thank you, I’m glad you like this blog! I hope you’ll enjoy your post!
・゚✧ Aragorn.
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Indeed, Aragorn knows exactly what you mean when you gift him the wooden amulet you crafted over the past few days. He smiles fondly, aware of what this means for you. He’d take it the exact same way as he would a verbal love confession, takes your hands in his and gives you a kiss ♡ He'd also ask you about the exact cultural implications of the symbols you used etc.!
・゚✧ Arwen.
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Arwen has been kind to you ever since you started your work as a blacksmith in Rivendell. She is very impressed with your work and you soon start to fall for her. When her favourite bracelet breaks one day, you see your chance to use your newly-learned skills of Elven craftmanship to make her a new one. Though part of you wished she understood your gift’s meaning, Arwen’s unknowing reaction makes you just as happy: she’s beaming with joy and giving you a tight hug!
・゚✧ Boromir.
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Boromir spends days wracking his brains about the hand-crafted sheath you made for him. Every time he turns it in his hands, he can feel the energy and affection you poured into his gift. Still, its true meaning stays a mystery to him… until one day, he’d not-so-casually ask you, “It doesn’t carry a deeper meaning, does it?”
・゚✧ Elrond.
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The day Elrond finds the artful bookmark you crafted for him on his table, wrapped in a gorgeous leaf, he starts researching your culture. He faintly remembers hearing of love customs from your home region but thinks this couldn’t be possibly true! After a whole day of reading, he’d ask you for a conversation and talks about it to you, always respecting your culture’s habit of not outright stating your feelings. He’d be very understanding.
・゚✧ Éomer.
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Éomer is convinced that the little horse figurine you carved out of the most gorgeous walnut wood is a present you gave him out of fascination and respect for Rohirrim culture. While he is happy about the kind gesture, he is entirely oblivious to its meaning. So one day, when you absolutely couldn’t take it anymore, you’d had to take him aside and break your culture’s customs – because otherwise, this man wouldn’t get it!
・゚✧ Éowyn.
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While Éowyn may be unaware of your culture’s custom, she does recognise how much gifting her handcrafted objects means to you. So, she soon starts making something for you in return – albeit clumsily – but still you can’t help but swoon! You start to develop a playful gift exchange that Éowyn partakes in so lovingly that in the end, it doesn’t really matter that she didn’t know of your specific custom. Since you get together anyway, you can just tell her afterwards!
・゚✧ Faramir.
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Whatever you craft for Faramir, be it a bookmark, a tool, or a piece of jewellery – he’d treasure it religiously. Maybe he’d even build a shrine around it, hidden away in his quarters, where he’d sit down and think of you. Imagine his shock when he learns (possibly through Gandalf) of your gift’s true meaning – the poor man would blush like a sunrise, unable to speak to you for the next few days. He is ashamed of his perceived ignorance toward you and overwhelms you with the most romantic love confession in return!
・゚✧ Frodo.
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Frodo would be very casual about the notebook you crafted for him. He uses it as his journal, for flower pressing, and recipes. Everybody keeps asking about the gorgeous binding and covers, and he always redirects everyone to you with great pride. He is glad that your crafting skills finally find recognition in the Shire. However, since you only craft for those you love, you always have to send the other Hobbits away, until one day you admit to Frodo the truth behind your gift, which he takes with great joy.
・゚✧ Galadriel.
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Galadriel is convinced that the ring you made for her carries a deeper meaning, she just can’t quite put her finger on it, with you being so mysterious. It intrigues her, since usually everyone is an open book to her. When she asks you anew about your gift, you can’t help but give in to her warm telepathic voice, and confess your feelings to her. She’d light up with joy – “What a wonderful gift! The most precious anyone has to give!”
・゚✧ Gandalf.
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For Gandalf, you’d craft a new staff or wand. You don’t expect much when you gift it to him, so his sudden attention comes as a surprise to you: “You said you’ve made this yourself? It is an artful present…” His soft, loving glance would instantly tell you he understood. You share a blissful laugh, before he would deny any knowledge about your culture.
・゚✧ Gimli.
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You’d gift Gimli a precious stone or gem you found in the mines, having perfected it into a shape that’s perfect for his collection. When you gift it to him, his reaction puzzles you though: “No gem in this world is more precious than your presence in my life…” He wanted to confess to you too – what impeccable timing!
・゚✧ Haldir.
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Haldir is the worst person to make gifts for – while he trains his face not to show it, his confusion is still very much readable to you, now that you know him. The archery gloves you made for him are stored away deep in his travel bag, never to be seen again. It’s not until Aragorn secretly informs him of your region’s customs that Haldir finally understands your gesture – which leaves him even more irritated...! He is considerate enough to say “thank you” at least, with a timid kiss ♡
・゚✧ Legolas.
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Legolas would be thrilled that you made him an arrow, not meant for battle but prestigious decoration. The affection and care you poured into your hand-crafted gift do not escape his sharp attention, whenever he touches the glistening arrow and turns it in his hands. Intrigued by these feelings, he starts ‘investigating’ – meaning he teases you about a possible crush. He’d only stop when he sees how important this topic is too you, which is when he finally understands.
・゚✧ Merry.
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For Merry, you’d craft a new pipe. He is excited about your gift but oblivious to the deeper meaning behind it. That said, his sharp attention does catch your slight blush when you give it to him. It makes him think – and after days and days of pondering, he starts a courting offensive on his own, until the day you finally get together!
・゚✧ Pippin.
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The wood carving you’d gift Pippin is originally meant for decoration, but he carries it around his neck as an amulet. He proudly tells everyone who made it – and knowing how close the two of you are, it doesn’t take a genius to understand your gift’s true meaning. The situation would eventually solve by Pippin telling you, completely confused: “I thought we already were an item?! Of course I love you too!”
・゚✧ Sam.
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Out of all the Middle-Earth characters, Sam probably appreciates handcrafting and artisanship the most, being a craftsman himself. His reaction to your wood carving of a sunflower is appropriately flustered: “This must’ve taken quite some time to make, I’d say. Turned out so beautiful, too. Not that I expected anythin’ else from you! You are very skilled in many areas, after all…” His beautiful little speech charms you so much that you end up confessing your love unconventionally! Be it verbally or with a surprise kiss ♡
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thewulf · 2 months
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My Queen || Aragorn
Summary: Request - Can I pleeeease send you an idea where he finds a girl in the woods, hurt and not conscious but he feels the need to help her and be close to her. So he takes care of her wounds till she wakes up and it's like true love at first sight for both of them... Read Rest Here
A/N: OH WOW, this got out of hand QUICK but I had SO MUCH FUNNNN writing this way! It was a challenge but it felt invigorating to write. I am obsessed with Aragorn and I just love him. Margot Robbie is so right for her cinematic crush! Thank you for the request anon, hope you love it :)
Pairing: Aragorn x Reader
Word Count: 10,000 +
TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings, Aragorn being hot af
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Just a few more stumbling steps. You could do it. Glancing down you grimaced at the crimson coated and tattered dress that you’d been wearing for the last five or so days. It used to be so gorgeous, a gift from the man you were meant to wed. Truly it was the only exquisite gift you’d ever received in your entirety. However now it looked as if it’d seen a thousand lives, just like the elves had. It bore this resemblance due to the attack on your home. You ran. Running far away from everything you knew. It was tough to grasp just how much you’d been through in the five days since you had to flee your small village just outside of Eriador.
You’d had a good life. Good but rather simple. Almost too simple for your taste. You were engaged to be wed to the local jewelers son at your father’s doing. He had assured you over and over again that going through with the wedding would lead you to a life that he could not provide you. A life you were destined for. Your mother, Valar rest her soul, had been killed a few years prior in an attack on your village leaving you with your father and a small place to live. But it was home.
The local jeweler boy, Newall, had asked you to take a walk around the village right before the tragic events occurred. One moment you were giving him your kindest smile. The next he pushed you into the woods after hearing the screaming coming from the village center. Not making your most brilliant decision you decided to follow behind him only to come to the horrifying realization that your seemingly insignificant village was being brutalized by Orc’s. You stood there frozen in fear as you witnessed men, women and children being slain as if they meant nothing. 
It was only when you came face to face with one that you realized how much trouble you were in. Valar save you. He must’ve listened because the Orc simply look at you, growled and pushed you into the side of the house you were standing next to. But then it dawned on you that he wasn’t done. The creature walked to you terrifyingly slow, standing over you before driving it’s sword into your side. Before you could even yelp out in pain the orc vanished leaving you to die presumably. But it was a shallow wound. It didn’t seem like it was trying to do too much damage. Orcs knew one thing, killing. It was odd that one would have spared you.
When you finally came back to the reality of the situation you knew you had to go. Run to Bree. Your dad always instructed that’s where you needed to go. You had an uncle up there that could look after you. Deciding not to waste another second you rushed inside the house grabbing whatever clothing you could find. Tying a pair of Newall’s pants around your waste to hopefully stop the bleeding you only grabbed a little bit of food before you made for the forest. You’d have to find something along the way. The trek to Bree would take nearly a month on foot.
Using the stars as guidance you moved through the forest you knew very well. It started out fine. You were trained to do just this. Your father had made sure of it. What you hadn’t considered was the poison from the orc blade that was slowly taking its toll on your body. It was the fourth night that you realized you were in serious trouble. On the fifth day you decided you weren’t going to be able to go any further. No wonder the Orc didn’t just kill you there. He left you to suffer. What a vile creation. 
It didn’t take you long to decide on where you wanted to die. You found a nice tree under the shade of the leaved with a comfortable base. You were just going to go to sleep and hopefully never wake up. Hopefully the poison would just do what it wanted to and let you finally go. 
That did not happen though. You felt a light kick on your boot forcing your eyes to open. What you weren’t expecting was a rather handsome looking ranger with ice blue eyes to be staring right at you. Considering what to do.
“Miss,” He knelt down after whispering something to his horse, “Are you injured?” His surprisingly concerned eyes spotted the blood that coated your worn-down dress.
Taking a long breath, you mustered enough strength to answer the stranger, “Yea, Master Ranger.” You let your head lean back on the trunk of the tree relieving the strain it seemed to put on year mere consciousness.
“Forgive me, but you do not look it miss.” His head was level with yours as he moved closer to you. He didn’t dare touch you without your permission, but he wanted too, you were not all right like you so miserably tried to convince him.
A shallow breath escaped you, “I fear I have been stabbed by an Orc blade Ranger. I do not have much longer.” Your eyes flicked away from his in a pathetic attempt to rid him of the conversation. He would have no such thing though. Leave a fair maiden to perish on her own? Not on his accord.
“Strider.” He corrected you. It wasn’t often he’d give out his Ranger known name to strangers, but you seemed harmless enough. What could a human woman such as yourself have done to deserve such a fate he wondered before continuing on, “We are but a half days journey to a small town called Sarn Ford. Have you heard of it miss?” He asked in hopes of seeing your eyes open once more.
You did as he wished and looked at him again, “Sarn Ford? Oh dear. I’ve gone the wrong direction.” You grimaced in pain as you tried to sit up higher on the tree trunk.
“Where are traveling to miss? On your own?” He held out an open hand for you to take. He left the decision on if you’d accept the help up to you.
Eyeing his hand, you knew he was prying. But he seemed trustworthy. The Rangers of the North were meant to be. Strider as he called himself. Your eyes met his again and you caved right then and there. He looked genuine, like he thought he could actually help you. Like you were not too far gone. With all the strength you could muster in your quickly fading body you put your hand in his, “Aye. My village was attacked by orcs. Third time in the last five years. They got me this time.” You sighed trying your hardest to stay conscious, “I was meant to travel to Bree. But I must have taken to the wrong direction. I will be blaming the Orc poison for the misdirection.” You let out a pained laugh trying to lighten the tone of the conversation going on between the two of you.
“All right. Off we go. What is your name?” He asked you needing to know to continue.
He watched you intently sputter out the words you were trying to get out. His fear of orc poison was right, you truly did not have that much time left. With your permission he scooped you up in his arms, called his horse over and positioned you in front of him while he rode. He knew you did not have enough strength to hold on from behind. He knew It would be a challenge to keep you upright on the journey back to Sarn Ford. He was meeting Gandalf there, anyway, might as well help the woman who he had taken a fast liking towards. Even Strider could see the beauty in things, and you were mighty beautiful in his eyes. Even coated in layers of dirt and grime he knew you shined like a star above him.
“Y/N.” You admitted to the man not feeling up to lying to him. You would likely be dead before dawn anyway. You would have hoped he would find a way to let anybody surviving know of your unfortunate fate. But in reality you were just another causality of war. A human life cut far too short.
“Lovely name.” He smiled lowly as he held you into him. He could feel you were fading in and out of consciousness as he held onto your waist tightly.
You hummed in thanks not having the strength to reply to him.
“Hold on miss Y/N. We will be there soon.” He spoke into your ear startling you back onto the middle earth side of consciousness.
But as much as he tried you had succumbed to your own fate. Blackness took over before you reached the village of Sarn Ford.
Much to your own surprise your eyes opened once more. You peaked around seeing all sorts of supplies. You must have been in some sort of healers room you concluded quickly. Looking down you were not in your attire you had been found in but a simple dress that you were more accustomed too. Being so caught up in your own accord you had yet to see the two men. Well one man and one wizard standing off to the side conversing as you came back to reality.
“Welcome young one.” The wizard spoke. You had never seen one before. Thought they were the thing of legends. But sure, as it would be one stood before you. They were easy to spot. Had an aura about them.
Your eyes snapped back to Striders looking at him in surprise. He was more handsome than you remembered as the sun beat down on his features through the window in the hut you were in, “It is all right.” He nodded at you, “This is Gandalf the Grey, he is an old friend of mine.”
“Hello Gandalf.” You broke your eyes away from the stranger your somewhat knew and turned your head towards the wizard.
“How are you fairing?” He asked whilst leaning onto his cane.
“Fine now. Thank you.” You turned toward Strider who made his way closer, “Thank you Strider. For without you I fear I may have been dead by now.” A shiver of realization ripped down your spine as you admitted it out loud.
He bowed his head, “I am honored to have been of service miss Y/N.” You looked over to him giving him a bashful smile. He was really so handsome. More handsome than any of the boys or men in your small village.
“Are you well enough to travel?” Gandalf asked breaking the trance the two of you had been locked in for a moment too long to be just friendly glances. Gandalf was considered wise for a reason. He had an inkling feeling there was something budding between his usually broody friend and the pretty human girl he had found in the woods. Maybe you were his gift from Valar. Every great leader needed one. Who was Gandalf to question the gods.
“I believe so.” You sat you wincing only slightly as the wound in your side. Strider wanted nothing more than to push you back down and curse the wizard who suggested you move so soon.
“Miss Y/N. You need to rest a little longer.” He insisted placing a gentle hand on your shoulder preventing you from standing.
Gandalf grumbled, “You must get to the Prancing Pony Inn. I’m going to meet Frodo now. Time is of the essence Aragorn.”
Your eyes crumbled in confusion. Who was Aragorn?
He did not leave you time to question as he grabbed at your hand, “Come miss Y/N. We have a ride to take.”
You sat at the bar table with Strider who had hood of his robe covering his face. You grew more uneasy as the night wore on at the Prancing Pony. The horse ride was quick thankfully. And much to your delight the Hobbits Gandalf was speaking of finally appeared. Right on time.
Strider shot up from his seat, “Wait here miss Y/N. I must save the Hobbit.” He sighed before bounding off into the depths of the bar. You felt even more uneasy as the eyes around you made their way to your shaking frame. You were nervous.
After far too many moments alone he grabbed you by your arms, “Come Y/N. We must hide.” He directed you to another room than the ones you had planned on staying in.
“Strider?” You asked following him up a set of stairs you were unfamiliar with.
“Nazgul. I’ll explain later. For now, you must sleep. We have a long journey to Rivendell. Especially with the Hobbits.” He let a long breath while opening the door for you. Quickly, you were attacked by questions from the four little Hobbits. Happily, though you answered every single one before lying next to Strider who promised to keep watch.
“You should get some rest too.” You whispered hoping not to wake the sleeping Hobbits.
He nodded, “I shall. In due time. I fear we have something coming.”
Your frown was evident as he continued to try and comfort you, “Do not fret. I am keeping watch for a reason. We are safe.”
“I believe you Strider.” You yawned not being able to keep the tiredness away for much longer.
“Rest.” He commanded.
You were far too tired to argue that as the darkness crept in.
You were woken when the screeching next door commenced. The Hobbits must’ve had more sensitive ears as they were already up and staring at Strider who looked glum.
“What are they?” Frodo asked.
He sat at the window looking at the five of you, “They were once men. Great kings of men. The Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power.” You felt a shiver ripple across your body. You’d heard the legends and did not believe those either. Yet again, another thing coming true right before your eyes.
“We must move.” He commented seeing the Nazgul retreating away from the inn.
You must have walked for miles until Strider had the five of you rest at the old watchtower of Amon Sul. You stood there behind the Hobbits staring up the decaying rock structure before you. It must have been grand in its time.
Once you were seated next to the Hobbits he stood and tossed each of you a weapon, “These are for you. Keep them close. I’m going to have a look around. Miss Y/N, will this blade be too large for you?” He handed you a smaller sword for you to try.
“I fear you have too much faith in me Strider.” You unsheathed the sword holding onto it carefully, “But this will work.” You nodded towards him.
“You shall not have to use it. In case only.” He pointed at each of you, “I will be back. Rest. Make no noise or sound.” His command was easy to follow. A natural born leader it seemed.
You woke when you heard Frodo yelling from beside you, “What are you doing?” He yelled a little too loud. You rose from the ground you had managed to sleep on and watched the interaction unfold. You cursed when you saw the fire going. He had not explicitly said no fires, but the intention was there.
“Put it out you fools!” Frodo cried. You rose from your slumber and haphazardly helped him put it out.
The horrifying cry you heard from the Nazgul the night before rang out from outside the watch tower.
“Oh no.” You spotted them coming towards you, “No Strider?” You turned to Frodo with a horrifying realization.
He shook his head, “Go! Up!” You followed the Hobbits to the top of the tower and waited. You shivered when you saw them come from the shadows. You heard nothing but your hammering heart in your chest. This was it. This could be the end. You sword was shaking in your hand.
“Back you devils!” Sam screamed trying to shield them off. You blocked a shot but was stopped when Frodo pulled the ring out. You gasped when they all ran from him. To your horror when he put the ring on he disappeared.
Strider came out of nowhere blocking back the Nazgul from all of you. You ran to Frodo in horror seeing the man defend the five of you with ease. A few of them went up in flames as kept fighting them off. They had enough when he got another went up and flames and ran off. Strider quickly came over to the five of you surrounding Frodo. You had your hand on his horrifyingly black wound. You’d never seen poison like that before.
“Help him Strider!” You cried in a shaky voice once he kneeled down next to you.
He picked the sword up shaking his head slowly, “He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade.” The blade vanished in his hand as Frodo writhed beneath you, “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.”
You looked down at the Hobbit in pain and let a single tear fall, “We will get you the help you need mister Frodo. Rest assured.” He picked the Hobbit up and began running, “Let us go.”
The four of you trailed Strider in a daze. The Nazgul screams seemed to ring out from every direction as you ran, “Hurry!” he shouted at the four of you with Frodo crying in his arms.
“We are six days from Rivendell! He will never make it!” Sam cried sending a shuddering realization through you.
You simply heard a faint whisper come from Strider ahead of you, “Hold on, Frodo.” From Strider who kept running and did not acknowledge Sam. As tired as you were you had to keep moving for Frodo’s sake. You ran and ran until you could no more and then you ran some more.
He only stopped when he ran into three petrified trolls. He set Frodo down looking around frantically. You and Sam went over to look after him. Same placed a gentle hand to the despondent Hobbit.
Sam shuddered at the touch, “Mr. Frodo! He’s going cold.”
“Is he going to die?” Pippen chimed in. You stood back looking over the shivering Hobbit who long since stopped crying out in pain.
Strider turned to the five of you with a concerned look crossing over his features, “He’s passing into the Shadow World. He’ll soon become a Wraith like them.” He stated so calmly. Your face grimaced at the horrifying realization. Frodo becoming a Nazgul?
Strider continued, “Sam, do you know the Athlelas plant?” You listened in but bent down to hold Frodo’s hand hoping some comfort would help the gasping Hobbit. His eyes were glazing over with something of a blue sheen that sent shivers down your body.
“Athelas?” Sam asked confused by the question.
“Kingsfoil.” Strider tried a different name.
Sam nodded, “Kingsfoil, aye, it’s a weed!”
“It may help the poisoning. Hurry!” He pushed the Hobbit off, “Miss Y/N. Stay with Frodo. We will be back with help.” You nodded holding onto his hand dearly.
Not a few moments later you saw the help arriving. A beautiful elf strode over and down to the quickly fading Hobbit. You took a step back as she took a step towards him. You gaped at the beauty that she was leaning down to your newfound friend. An elf in real life. She was beyond your wildest imagination. You had been told of their beauty, but this was bordering on ethereal.
“I am Arwen. I have come to help you.” She whispered into his ear, “Hear my voice. Come back to the light.” She grabbed at his hand while Strider handed her the plant.
“Who is she?” Merry asked quietly as Frodo was tended to.
“Arwen, an elf.” You whispered repeating what you heard her speak to Frodo not seconds ago, “She’s going to save him.” You said out loud to convince yourself more so than the group of Hobbits.
“Frodo,” She whispered, “He’s fading.” She sounded concerned as she looked over to Strider, “He’s not going to last. We must get him to my father.” The two of them stood as Strider grabbed at Frodo, “I’ve been looking for you for two days.” She said to Strider. You watched as the scene unfolded before you not wanting to get in the way of whatever was occurring.
“Where are you taking him?” Sam asked confused and terribly concerned for his friend.
He was ignored as Arwen continued, “There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know.” You watched as Strider put Frodo onto the horse with ease.
Suddenly Strider started talking in what you assumed to be Sindarin as you could not understand what they were saying. They must have agreed upon something as Arwen hopped onto the horse and took off with Frodo. Your mind was sent into a spiral as you guessed where he was going and off so quickly.
“She is taking him to Rivendell. To Lord Elrond for him to be healed. She is the faster rider and will get him there sooner. Come, we must go.” He motioned for the group to keep moving, “Miss Y/N, will you walk with me?”
You nodded speeding up your pace to match his, “Master Strider.”
“Strider is fine.” He hummed as he led the group out of the forest somehow knowing exactly where to go.
“Is he going to make it?” You had to ask him. The thought of his passing was eating at you.
He nodded, “His best chance is with Arwen. The sooner we get to Rivendell the sooner we will find out.”
“Well then let us speed up our pace then.” You smiled up at him.
He chucked and nodded. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence as you occasionally made sure the chatty Hobbits behind you were faring all right.
“She is pretty.” You spoke after a while of not being able to get Arwen’s face out of your mind.
“Arwen?” He questioned you giving you a curious once over seeing that the statement seemingly came out of nowhere.
“Aye. She is beautiful.”
“She is. Most elves are.” He agreed with you, “She is wed to another healer. Her father set the marriage up ages ago before you great great grandmother was even a thought.”
“Oh, to have the lifespan of an elf!” You laughed feeling the weight of whatever tension you were holding onto about Arwen be lifted.
“I bet it is not all that it seems to be.” You nodded as the two of you continued on the trek to Rivendell occasionally chatting about random things back and forth. You were so caught up in him you failed to notice the Hobbits watching the two you of converse the entire journey back as if you were already a married couple just strolling the lands.
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“Welcome to Rivendell miss Y/N.” Aragorn smiled when he saw your gaping face taking in all the scenery stretching beyond your wildest imagination. He too was struck in awe by its beauty the first time he had come across it all those years ago.
“This cannot be real.” You gasped as he took your hand, pulling you along to look along the city.
“Aye. It is. Come, I want to show you your living quarters for the time being.” He pulled you along knowing exactly where to go in Lord Elrond’s castle. He stopped in what you assumed to be the center seeing two people walking towards the two of you. The wizard and a dark-haired elf stopped just short of you.
“Ah, welcome young one.” Gandalf walked up with who you assumed to be Lord Elrond, “It is wonderful to see you in one piece. Unlike our young Frodo.” He chuckled not realizing what he had said sounded bad without knowing how he was.
Your face dropped, “Oh no, did he not make it?”
Gandalf shook his head hastily in realization of his error, “He is fine young one. A few more hours and he would not have made it.” Gandalf stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder in reassurance, “Aragorn here will show you to your chambers.”
You cocked your head to the side, “Aragorn? You said that back in Sarn Ford as well. Who is Aragorn?” This really was not your place to speak in front of so many important people. But you were always a curious one, so you had to ask. The worst they could do is refuse to elaborate any further and you would not press. You did understand boundaries even if you pushed them.
Strider looked at Gandalf with a question in his gaze. Gandalf always had a plan. He could see the feelings bubbling to the surface for Aragorn for his newfound human companion that had to be a gift from Valar himself. Gandalf knew the longer he kept his identity from you the harder the breach of trust would befall the two of you.
Gandalf nodded giving his friend a push towards you. He knew Aragorn had to admit this to you himself. You saw Lord Elrond cock his head in confusion watching the interaction go down. He must not have been privy to what had been going down in Gandalf’s mind.
“Ah, miss Y/N. Strider is my Ranger name. It is my identity. As is Aragorn. Son of Arathorn.” He spoke slowly watching as your face twisted from confusion to realization. You may have been from Eriabor, but you surely knew who Arathorn was.
He continued, “I am also called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor."
“A rightful King?” You asked him with widened eyes. You had no clue that you had been traveling with such a company. You had been so crass it made you want to run away right then and there, especially with Gandalf and Lord Elrond’s amused gazes watching the interaction between two humans.
He nodded, “You are correct.”
“Aragorn.” You spoke for the first time giving him a wide smile, “I do like it. It suits a King such as yourself. Would you mind if I continued to call you Strider though?” Bowing your head slightly you felt a rush of embarrassment pulsate through you. Why were you so unladylike? It was all so thoughtless when he was just a Ranger. Not a bloody King of Gondor.
He waited until your eyes met his again, “No need to bow miss Y/N. And thank you. You may call me either.”
A quick head nod was interrupted by Gandalf, “We must be off. Aragorn drop the young one off at her residence. You are free to explore the castle and Rivendell. But we will need you to meet us in the gardens. We have much to discuss before the Council of Elrond shows up in a few days.” Gandalf spoke directly to Strider who just nodded in agreement.
“Come miss Y/N.” He took your hand and pulled you along quickly, “You will enjoy your stay here. It is a wonderful place. There is quite a bit to do, and the elves are very kind.” He tried his best to reassure you knowing that Gandalf was right. You could not go on. You were not prepared for this kind of journey to any extent. Gandalf also revealed of Aragorn’s known feelings for you. You would be a distraction he could not have along the journey.
“It seems like it.” You grinned thankful you were able to do your own thing for the afternoon. You felt bad for Strider or Aragorn. He seemed to have quite a bit of business to attend to.
He stopped at a door letting you inside. It was small but quant and rather extravagant. Fine details laced every surface. You’d come to expect nothing less from the elves, “I will find you later. Enjoy your day miss Y/N.”
The days went by slowly as you got acquainted with Rivendell. You had the sneaking suspicion your journey was also stopping as Strider was not so keen on giving you any information even though he was gone for days on end.
It was on the day of the gathering of the Council of Elrond that you had all but given up. That was until there was a rapid knocking at your door. Thankfully your elf maiden Nimloth had made sure you were dressed as Strider stood before you with a smile on his face, “Come miss Y/N. The Council of Elrond is starting soon.”
“I am invited?” You were sure there was a dumb look on your face.
He nodded slowly, “Gandalf insisted. Lord Elrond relented.”
You followed him in silence to the gathering of the council. You sat behind Frodo closer to Lord Elrond and away from all of the action that was sure to go down.
It was not long after you took a seat that Lord Elrond stood gathering the council to begin, “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old and new,” His eyes met yours giving you a small wink before continuing on, “You’ve been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fail. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo.” A shiver ran down your spine at his straight to the point opening. This was not good.
You watched as Frodo stood and dropped the ring on the stump in the middle of the council.
You heard the man called Boromir speak up, “So it is true.” He looked at the ring with something of desire lacing it. You looked at Strider who was watching the man skeptically. He continued, “The doom of man. It is a gift.” Your heart raced at such a senseless statement. You watched as Strider grew angry at his arrogance.
Nevertheless, Boromir continued, “A gift of the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against them.” He passionately spoke hoping to gain the agreement of the Council.
But Strider would have none of that false speak, “You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.” Your heart rate sped down at the sensible statement to the man you had grown quite fond of in your week or so of traveling. You had grown a strong liking to the handsome Ranger who saved your life without a second thought.
Boromir looked skeptically at Strider, “And what would a Ranger know of this matter?” He asked with a smug look to his face. You wanted to slap that look right off of his face for he had no clue who he was talking to! A king!
But the elf called Legolas stood quickly in his defense, “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, Son of Arathon.” You watched as his face scrunched up in a minor irritation. He had tried so hard to keep that a secret and now it was out, “You owe him your allegiance.” He finished looking just as irritated as Strider did. It still felt weird to call him Aragorn. So, you kept up with Strider.
Boromir turned back to him, “Aragorn.” He spoke with a hint of shock in his tone, “This is Isildur’s heir?”
“An heir to the throne of Gondor.” Legolas spoke earning a glare from Strider who spoke to him in Elvish quickly. You wondered what he said because Boromir looked suddenly very angry.
Boromir nearly spat with vengeance while looking at the blond elf, “Gondor has no king.” He turned to look back at Strider and shook his head, “Gondor needs no king.”
Gandalf spoke up breaking the tension among men, “Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.”
Lord Elrond stood, “You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.”
The dwarf called Gimli stood then, “What are we waiting for?” He grabbed his axe and sliced at it in attempt to shatter it. Of course, that did nothing but startle the entire council into submission.
“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin... by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade.” Lord Elrond spoke matter of factly. You watched as Frodo nearly collapsed from the pain and realization. You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder hoping he would find some solace in the touch.
Lord Elrond continued, “It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.” Your heart was hammering in your chest at the realization. This would be no easy task for anybody let alone a Hobbit and human group, “One of you, must do this.” Lord Elrond commanded sending your head into so many different directions. Would Strider go? Would the Hobbits? Surely you would never be able to go. No, Strider would never allow it. He had made that very clear.
Boromir sighed, “One does not simply walk into Mordor. It’s Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly.”
Legolas was angry now. He shot up from his seat spitting his words at the man, “Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.”
Gimli spoke up next, “And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!” The tension grew in the air as everyone began to feel uneasy of the task at hand.
Boromir stood next, “And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?”
Gimli continued, “I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!” He shouted. Your eyes went wide as everything seemed to be going away from the goal at hand, “Never trust an Elf!”
The group erupted in bickering as you and Frodo sat back in fear of what was going to happen. All but suddenly you watched as Frodo stood. He shouted, “I will take it.” It took him a few attempts before the group heard him.
“I will take the Ring to Mordor.” He said again once everyone had quieted down. You gulped as you watched the scene unfold.
He spoke again, “Though, I do not know the way.”
Gandalf nodded, “I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins as long as it is yours to bear.”
You sat further back into your chair as you watched Strider stand, “If by my life or death I can protect you I will.” Your heart sunk at his words. He caught your forlorn gaze and gave you a simple smile. He walked to Frodo and knelt before the small Hobbit, “You have my sword.”
Legolas stepped forward, “And you have my bow.” Your heart raced seeing the elf walk forward. Thank goodness he volunteered. You had heard stories of the mighty elf warrior of Mirkwood.
“And my ax.” Gimli agreed as he walked towards the growing group. You stood from your spot away from the group, closer towards Lord Elrond. Almost as if you had already known your assigned fate.
Boromir joined slowly, “You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council then Gondor will see it done.” He stood by the group.
Suddenly the other hobbits joined in earning a hard-earned smile from Lord Elrond.
“Nine companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.” You watched as Elrond anointed the group complete. Your downcast eyes found Striders who looked at you with all the care in the world. You were more than nervous for the man you had grown so fond of so quickly. Dare you say you might actually have real genuine feelings for the man standing in the group of nine.
“The journey is no place for a lady.” Strider insisted as he pulled you away from the fellowship. He had conjured up a hundred scenarios in his mind and decided you could not come after seeking the guidance of Gandalf. It was far too dangerous for someone as delicate as you were. He shuddered at the thought of seeing you with a sword far too big for you trying your best to defend not only yourself but the Hobbits from the Nazgul. He never wanted to see or put you in such a situation as that ever again.
Your look broke his heart ten times over. It is not like he wanted to leave you in Rivendell with the elves. He would do anything to take you, but it was just far too dangerous. The encounter with the Nazgul did it in enough for him to hold firm on the decision, “I’m not a lady Aragorn, and you know it! But I understand.” You countered but admitted your faults. You were nothing but a lowly peasant from a tiny village near Eriador. You didn’t mean much to middle earth, a place holder for whatever Valar had planned.
He twisted his head to the side giving you a once over and a sly smile, “Not yet anyway.” He walked towards you, stopping right in front of you. Wanting to say the next word so all the elves and Hobbits behind him couldn’t hear. Having to turn your head up to make eye contact he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I have every intention of making you one, my lady.”
Your eyes growing wide and the rosiness that formed on your neck and cheeks made the elves behind him laugh in unison amongst themselves. You noticed the confusion lining the Hobbits faces, no doubt wonder what he had said to you to illicit such a reaction.
You looked back to him with the hint of smile dancing on your lips, “They can hear you Strider.”
He brushed the pads of his fingers along your jawline, “Let them.” He had yet to be so forthcoming with his feelings so far. Sure, you had only known him a little over a week but you had not left his side since you met him. It had already felt so long ago. And when the heart knew it knew. It knew it had feelings for the handsome man with the most beautiful blue eyes that looked at you so kindly standing before you.
“Please be safe.” Your eyes welled with unshed tears as you accepted his command. You could not go along with them. You’d be nothing but the burden you so desperately wanted to avoid. But you also did not want to stay in Rivendell. The elves seemed welcoming enough but who knew how long he would have to be gone. You would surely overstay your welcome.
A curt nod came from the man you’d grown to love in such a short amount of time, “As you wish.” He moved his fingers to your eyes brushing away the tears that had managed to spill over, “Do not cry. I will be back as soon as I can.” The moment felt far too intimate to have the whole company trying not to watching but paying close attention anyway, they were not being sly about like they thought they were. They had all grown to adore you in some capacity, more some than others. Pippen was especially sad your journey had ended there. He had quite enjoyed getting to know you along the short trek from The Shire to Rivendell. You were unlike any other mortal he had met.
“I know. But you will find me in Bree.” You answered him letting the tears fall even as you tried your best to stop them.
He shook his head quickly, “No, you will stay here. In Rivendell. You will be protected here. Lord Elrond has assured me of that.” That sounded more like Aragorn than the Strider you knew. It hit you that the rightful King of Gondor was standing right in front of you. No wonder he had seemed so effortless in leading the group to Rivendell. It was in his blood.
“I do not belong here Aragorn.” You spoke in a plea muttering his actual name for just the second time. It still felt foreign, but you welcomed it on your tongue. Aragon, King of Gondor.
His eyes piqued up in utter curiosity at the sudden name change. You had seemed so adamant on continuing to call him by his Ranger name despite finding his true identity through Gandalf, “You can find an identity here my lady. Lord Elrond will not let that falter. Do you not believe me?” He frowned not enjoying seeing you in such a distressed state. He too had grown to have deep feelings for you. You were kind and compassionate. Smarter than you knew. Made him smile more than he ever had in his life in the short time he had known you. You kept him on his toes, and he adored that about you. He grew to like maybe even love you in mere days.
“I am a burden here. Useless. They will get sick of me.” You were pleading to him now. If you knew better you would not be pushing somebody of such high stature.
He gulped not knowing what to say. He could pick up on your stress through your expression and the way you picked at your fingernails. A habit he’d seen both at the Inn and when the group was attacked by the Nazgul. Just as he was about to open his mouth he heard Elrond from behind him. And bless him he thought for he had no idea how to calm your racing mind.
“Have you not enjoyed your stay here at Rivendell? Do you not wish to stay?” Lord Elrond spoke up after hearing the concerns you had spoken in private to Aragorn. He knew he likely should have just stayed quiet and let Aragorn handle the situation. But his overly sensitive ears could pick up the frantic panic in your voice towards the man.
You shook your head quickly, “No my lord. I wish to not be a burden to your home. You see I… I do not have much to offer your city.” You hung your head in shame hoping you did not fully insult Elrond. He had already been so kind to you.
“A burden?” He shook his head walking over to the two of you. All eyes still watching the interaction with the utmost curiosity, “You would hardly be a burden. I will be honest with you. With many of the elves planning to take to the sea I will need some help preparing. You will have a place here. Rest assured.”
A small sigh let out from your chest. Aragorn watched you intently with a bright smile on his face seeing the Elf relax your mind in mere moments. Leave it to Elrond to calm you down so easily. He needed to take a page or two from his book.
“Are you sure Lord Elrond?” You asked timidly to the much, much taller elf. Why’d they have to be so beautiful and intimidating at the same time?
He gave you a quick nod before turning, “I have already made up my mind child. Now let us go. The Fellowship has much planning to do before they are off in a few days.” He motioned for you to follow him.
You turned back to Aragorn before you left, “I wish you luck. I will see you soon. Be safe.” Taking a risk, you grabbed for his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Anything for you my lady.” You caught the brief wink he had given you before bowing his head.
You walked over to the rest of the group, “I wish you all nothing but the best. Please take care of each other. I want to see you all when this is over. Yea?” Your voice broke at the end.
The Hobbits crowded around you giving you one last hug, “We will take your word to heart Lady Y/N.” Pippen smiled as he hugged your side.
“I am no lady.” You laughed once more. Where had they all gotten this ridiculous notion from?
“That’s not what Legolas told us.” Frodo smirked while looking over at Aragorn was deep in conversation with Boromir not paying a lick of attention to the goodbyes you were giving. It hurt him just as much as it was hurting you so he distracted himself with the other man in the Fellowship.
Your eyes found the blonde elf who attempted to feign innocence for the second time that afternoon, “You are a rightful menace Legolas.” You muttered to him almost finding enjoyment out of his butting in.
He shrugged innocently, “I am not sure what you are talking about Lady Y/N.”
You smiled shaking your head while giving each Hobbit a quick squeeze, “Good luck Legolas. Please watch out for him?” Your request may have been too much for the elf and you knew it. A big ask that you would have never of done had you not fallen for him so quickly.
But he agreed, “You have my word, my lady.” He smirked sensing your aversion to the formality you so desperately tried to avoid.
A quick shake of the head and you went off to follow Elrond you was waiting for you patiently in the distance, “I will see you all soon.” You waved, not waiting for their response as it felt to be too much in the moment. It amazed you
“Thank you for your hospitality Lord Elrond.” You said quickly once you caught up to the dark-haired elf.
He gave you what you was sure was a genuine smile, “It brings me a great pleasure to host you Lady Y/N.”
Your mouth gaped, “Is he forcing you to say that?” Surely you were going to have to get used to the title if Elrond had agreed to it. It would be shameful to try and correct the ruler of the land. Even you had some semblance of sanity and preservation.
Elrond shook his head quickly. He gave you a serious expression, one that you were not used to seeing from elf, “Aragorn is the rightful heir to the Throne of Gondor. We recognize the title here in Rivendell. I respect what he wishes. If he has given you that title you should wear that as a badge of honor.”
“You think so?” You thought you might have been pressing your luck with the lord. But he had the patience of somebody you had never met before. He was like no human you knew even if he was half of it.
If he was offended at your questioning he hid it well. A small smile adorned his features as he led you down the path to an empty room in the castle he had placed you in earlier, “I know so. When you have been around as long as I. You tend to notice these small things.”
He stopped in front of a door you had not been privy too in your prior explorations, “Your quarters for the time being. I had Nimloth move your belongings from your previous room to here. I suspect you will find it adequate.”
Your eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he opened the massive wood doors. The most intricate carvings of wood was placated on every surface of the room. The detail and craftsmanship was beyond anything you had seen in your tiny little village. You ran your fingers along the different sets of furniture admiring the fine detail that was crafted into every surface, “More than adequate Lord Elrond. Thank Nimloth for me?” You asked after finding all your belongings neatly put away.
He bowed to you. An elf bowed to you! What had this life become? Once so lost now you were somebody a lord found pleasure in conversing with.
“I will see to it. She will fetch you for dinner as well. Welcome to Rivendell.” Without waiting for a response, he shut the doors behind him letting you be with your thoughts. And oh, were they racing beyond your wildest measure.
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It had been 414 days since Aragorn and the Fellowship had set out to destroy the ring. You refused to give up any sort of hope as you heard bits and pieces of information from Lord Elrond. You had grown close to elf in your stay at Rivendell. He had given you sage life advice time and time again. You were there for him when Arwen and his sons went off to sea not to be seen again until he were to take his trip. You knew he was utterly lonely and wanting nothing more than to go be with his wife and children. But he had a duty to middle earth that he would see too. He would see that the age of man had a true leader in Aragorn to guide peace and prosperity forward. He knew the age of elf was done and good. Frodo just had to finish it by destroying the ring.
You were sitting in the study reading a text in Sindarin, Lord Elrond had taught you enough of the language to get by, when you heard the doors to the study open with a loud thud. You set the text down on the desk as you peaked your head towards the door.
“Lady Y/N?” Lord Elrond’s voice called out.
You stood from your chair, “Yes my lord?” You caught him smiling ear to ear at the front of the study. A giddy feeling of shock shot throughout your body in anticipation for what might come next.
“They are back.”
You felt like your heart might have actually stopped beating there for a second, “Aragorn?” You asked breathlessly.
“Alive and well. Come.” He motioned you to follow him just like he had all those days ago when you first got to Rivendell.
When you spotted him out in the courtyard you did not give a second thought about being a lady anymore. You all out sprinted to the man who had consumed you whole in his time away. He wrapped you in his arms once you ran right into his chest. Letting out a small grunt from the impact he started laughing. A full-on belly laugh rang out from the man as he held you in his arms once more.
“You came back.” You felt the tears forming in your eyes as you buried yourself in his chest.
He held you in his arms as tightly as he could relishing in the moment of just being there with you, “I gave you my word, my lady. Did I not?” He pulled you back so he could look at you. Ethereal. Rivendell had been nothing but good to you he concluded. He would have to thank Lord Elrond for being so hospitable towards the one he had loved.
“You did. Thank you.” You grasped him a little tighter as he clinged onto you just the same.
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You gasped opening the letter from the Shire, “Sam and Rose!” You ran over to Aragorn with a gleeful smile on your face, “Look, they are to be wed in six months! Long after you are crowned King. I would like to go.”
“Ahh, finally.” Aragorn grabbed the letter from your hand with a smile on his face. You admired him as he read the joyous news of the union. He was so handsome. And he was soon to be crowned King of Gondor, Gandalf had shared with the group the night they came back. He was due to be crowned in two months’ time in Minas Tirith. It gave time for all parties to travel to the desired destination to see the rightful heir be crowned king.
“I was worried he would never go for it. We shall go if you will have me?” Aragorn noted as he smoothed out the robes for tomorrow’s crowning. He had felt more nervous of the thought of proposing to you than he was about being crowned King. Valar calm his nerves.
“Aye. I would love to go with you Aragorn. But is that so? Had he been shy about her?” You asked your love that you were almost afraid to admit to.
He nodded recalling all the time Samwise made comments about the Hobbit he had loved from afar, “He was never the most risk adverse. I think the journey changed him.”
“Yea.” You nodded, “It was good for him.”
He nodded his head. His soft expression hardening just a tinge as he took you in, “You are so beautiful. When I did not think that I was going to make it… the thought of you kept me going. I am so honored to have you by my side.”
You leaned your head back into his chest letting the sun beat down on the two of you as he had helped you prepare for the journey to his rightful home. He had been to Minas Tirith many times before, but never as the King. He was overjoyed at the thought of bringing you to his home. He was not lying before when he promise to make you his lady. He was planning to wed to you not too long after he was crowned King.
“It is my honor Aragorn.” You felt him squeeze his hand along your waist.
He had taken you to his new home by horse. Just the two of you heading to his Kingdom. He wanted to spend the time with you and get to know you. And he was more than glad he did. He did not think it to be possible, but he had fallen more deeply in love with you on the month-long trek to Gondor. It had solidified what he had planned to do, propose to you as soon as he was crowned King. He had gotten Lord Elrond in on the plan as well. Surely, you would be more than irritated at the public display, but he knew you would soon get over it.
Your eyes lit up in amazement at the city that had spring up before you once you had finally made it after a little over a month on the road. It was more massive than even Rivendell had been. You had no idea such structures existed within the human world and was slightly ashamed you knew so little about your very own brethren.
“Welcome to Minas Tirith my lady.” A breathy whisper in your ear he watched below as you took in the city.
“This is… incredible Aragon.” Your eyes traveled everywhere in awe as he rode up the main street on his horse. You were pleasantly surprised at all the greetings even you were getting from all the citizens that resided within the city.
He led you straight to the castle at the center of the city knowing you were probably more than overwhelmed. Sure, he had warned you but actually seeing it and doing it was entirely different thing. He bowed to his guards as he made his way to his, and soon to be your, chambers.
“You will sleep here tonight.” He said matter of factly as you explored his chambers.
You shook your head, “I cannot. This is your room. You need to rest before tomorrow! You are being crowned King. That does not happen every day Aragorn.” You protested but he simply shook his head.
“It is all right.” He led you to his bed, “I insist my lady. I have made up my mind and you will not be able to change it.” He grinned beautifully as you sat down on the bed, accepting defeat so easily.
“So stubborn you are.”  You mused at him with a delighted look on your face. It felt like a step was being taken as he insisted you stay in his quarters. Protected by the best of the best. He saw you as nothing but precious to him.
He chucked softly, “I must leave you to it. Feel free to explore. One of the guards can show you around if you would like. I must see to a few things before tomorrow. I will see you after the ceremony?” He asked watching you carefully. He wanted you to be comfortable before he left you. He knew it would be tough to go a night without each other after spending so much alone for the better part of a month.
“All right.” You nodded quickly, “I will see you tomorrow, my King.” You grinned right back at him knowing you would never tire of calling him that. It was a far cry from the Strider you had met so long ago now.
He brushed his hand along your jaw. Giving you a brief bow, he spoke once more, “My lady.” Before walking out his chambers and leaving you too it. A wave of exhaustion coupled by the softness of the mattress below you sent you into a slumber much sooner than you were expecting. Maybe you would get the grand tour another time. For now, sleep overtook you..
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You watched in awe as Gandalf crowned Aragorn with amazement in his own eyes. You had truly never seen anything so grandeur in your life. All this for your Aragorn. Yet, you felt he had deserved this and so much more.
“Now come the days of the King.” Gandalf’s voice boomed throughout Minas Tirith as thousands stood to watch Aragorn be crowned. You felt your eyes well up with proud tears as the crown laid atop his head. He was so striking. So Kingly. Your breath was taken away as he turned to the crowd. He was your King.
“This day does not belong to one man… but to all.” His voice now boomed filling your chest with the utmost pride for the man you loved, “Let us together rebuild this world… that we may share in the days of peace.” He smiled as the crowd erupted in cheers for their newly crowned King. You joined in happily clapping and cheering along with the city folk.
He sang as the flower petals began to fall. You watched as his company and all those around him bowed to him as he walked amongst the crowd. Your heart sped up rapidly as he was moving along closer, and closer to you.
Elrond pulled you back behind a shield at your protest as Legolas stepped forward. Being none the wiser you shot your elder a precarious look as he told you to be quiet and wait a second and you would see what was going on. He did not lie to you. Lord Elrond never did.
The elf beside you pulled the shield away leaving you staring right into the icy blue eyes of the man you had loved so dearly. You gulped but stepped towards him. He looked just as entranced as you felt.
Feeling overwhelmed at the entirely of the situation you bowed your head to your King once you were mere inches in front of him. Never before had so many eyes been on you. Yet he had made it feel like it really was just the two of you at that moment.
He would have none of that though. He took his hand under your chin and pulled it up, so you were looking at him. He too forgot that thousands of people were watching. It felt like it was just you and him. You had that effect on him. Your doe eyes staring up at him so desperately is what did him in. He could simply wait no longer to have what he wanted… you.
When you smiled at him he did not care any longer. He went straight in for the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him as he spun you around, happier than ever before. He had let his intentions be known. You were his for forever, his forever.
You would be embarrassed later but now it was just you and him. A giggle erupted from you as you hugged him once more. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along as he went to search for the Hobbits.
You took a knee after Aragorn spoke, “My friends… you bow to no one.” A smile erupted on your face as you watched the kingdom take a knee for them. Frodo’s face told the story. Aragorn gently wiped off the tears that were streaming down your face.
“I love you, my Queen.” He whispered in your ear.
“Your Queen?” You gasped looking up to him. Surely you did not think you would take
“Are we to be wed no?” He asked curiously.
“Aye.” You nodded, “I just did not believe to have such a title.” You looked away from him as he directed everyone to stand once more.
“I am King. You are to be my Queen.” He said so matter of factly you could not believe you were questioning yourself.
“As you wish.” You smiled so gleefully not truly believing this was actually your life now.
He leaned in for one more gentle kiss to please the crowd, “My Queen.” He whispered letting you know he had every good intention in the world with you. For the first time in his already long life, he could not wait to get his life started with you.
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trylynarie · 6 months
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Legolas: have you not heard anything lord Elrond has said?!
Boromir: •_•
Legolas: he is your King! You owe him your allegiance!
Boromir: •_____•
*a while later*
Gimli: so where is the elf?
Boromir: gimme a sec I’ll summon him *breathes in Aragorn’s general direction*
Legolas:
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h4rrypotterf4n · 1 year
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Stuffed animal
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Pairing:  Legolas x Reader
Wordcount: 1210 words
Warnings: hurt to comfort; The fellowship being mean to reader
Summary: After the fellowship made fun of you sleeping with a stuffed animal a certain elf is there to comfort you.
Finally, you were able to rest a bit. Aragorn and Gandalf found a clearing in the forest they both agreed on resting for the night. So, the fellowship prepared their bedrolls. When they finished Sam began to cook dinner, Aragorn sharpened his sword, Gandalf watched how Boromir tried to teach the hobbits how to make a fire, Legolas rested with his eyes closed against a tree and you were preoccupied with staring at the elf across from you. You’ve had a crush on him since you first saw him at the council of Elrond. And how could you not? Long blond hair, icy blue eyes, a fierce warrior, you could rant about him all day.
 “My lady,” Aragorn pulled your gaze away, while he gave you a plate of soup.
 “Thanks, Aragorn,” you responded gratefully.
 “You know,” he began as he sat next to you, “you should just tell him, that you fancy him,” you nearly choked on your soup at his declaration.
 “I- what?”
 “Come on, it is painfully obvious that you both like each other,” he left you stunned, to say the least and walked over to Gandalf.
Soon darkness fell upon the camp and the only source of light was the slowly dimming fire. The fellowship sounded asleep, so you slowly sat up and as quiet as possible opened your bag and pulled your stuffed animal out. You can’t sleep without it but felt ashamed of your little habit and chose to hide it from the others. As a woman it was hard enough to proof that you were capable of this quest. You cuddled against it and let the faint sounds of the fire and the snores of Gimli lull you to sleep.
 You woke up to loud laughter from your friends. Groaning you turned to the other side trying to shut them out and get a bit more rest. But as your mind slowly came to its senses, you missed the light weight in your arm. Hastily you opened your eyes to see your little friend wasn’t anywhere near you. You hurriedly began searching for it through your things.
“Do you miss something?”  Gimli laughed at you, while he held your stuffed animal up.
“Our fierce warrior sleeps with a stuffed animal who would have thought of that?” Boromir mocked you. You looked around hoping someone would defend you. But the hobbits just laughed along, even Aragorn and Gandalf smirked at their cruel jokes and Legolas was nowhere in sight, he was probably looking for any danger ahead of us.
 As the humiliation became too much and you felt tears threatening to fall you ran into the forest. You only stopped when your vision was too blurry to see properly. Sinking down with your back against a tree you buried your head in your bend knees, while you continued to cry.
Meanwhile Legolas came back from inspecting the further road. Thanks to his elven ears he heard the conversation, and he was furious. Because unbeknownst to you he also had his eyes on you since the day he first saw you.
 “What was that?” Legolas asked in a stern tone.          
 “Oh, we just had a bit fun,” Gimli answered still laughing.
 “Fun for whom? Because of what I’ve witnessed (Y/N) just ran crying into the forest,” the elf bit angrily back.
 “Maybe it’s better if she’s gone. I mean if she still sleeps with a stuffed animal she can’t be of much help, can she?” Boromir piped in defending Gimli.
 “She is a strong warrior with a kind and loving heart. She is a perfect addition to this company. She has proven herself often enough. We all know that. And besides everyone has something from home to remind us of it,” Legolas pointed out and everyone fell silent knowing he was right, „For example Gimli, you have your necklace with pictures of your family. Aragorn, you have your evenstar and Frodo, you have your mithril shirt. So why shouldn’t she be allowed to have something, that remind her of her home?” he went on in rage and the fellowship let their gaze fall to the ground in shame, knowing he was right.
 “While I go looking for her, I advise you all start thinking of a good apology for her,” he said already walking in the direction you took off but not without your stuffed animal.
While he searched for you, he freed it from a few leaves that were tangled in the soft fur from sleeping on the ground until he picked up quiet sobs ahead of him.
The sight in front of him broke his heart your whole body shook with the sobs you desperately tried to muffle with your hand.
 “I think you forgot someone,” Legolas spoke as softly as he could. Startled you looked up to see he was now sitting beside you with your little comforter sitting in his lap.
 “G-Go away, Legolas,” it warmed your heart that he was trying to comfort you, but you do not want him to see you like this.
 “So, you want me to return with your friend?”
 “It’s stupid anyway,” you grabbed it and threw it away which shocked Legolas. The elf stood up and walked over to the poor animal to pick it up.
“I do not think it’s stupid. I actually think it is quite relatable,” you looked up at him to find there was no lie in his eyes and your stuffed animal closely held to his chest.
 “You don’t?”
 “No, I could not for I too miss my home. Every one of us does and it is cruel to make fun out of something, that helps you,” the elf explained softly sitting next to you again.
 “I got it from my parents when I was a child. It’s the only thing I still have of my family. They died
w-when I was young, “
 “Which makes it even more understandable that you carry it with you,” 
 “You really do not think of it as stupid or childish? “
 „No, I don’t. I can’t think that of someone I love, “
he blurted out and started to lightly blush as he realized what he had said. 
 „Y-you love me? “ You asked kind of shocked. 
He thought for a second what he should do now but decided for the truth. 
 „Yes, “ he whispered as he looked to his feet.  
 “I love you too,” you whispered back making eye contact with him when he looked up. You watched as a smile came upon his features and involuntary you mimicked him. Slowly he leaned closer to you but before your lips touched, he stopped. 
 “May I?” Legolas whispered looking down towards your lips. Instead of answering you closed the gap between you two. Trying to convey every emotion Legolas felt for you he kissed you back. 
 “How about we go back and give the others the chance to apologize to you?” He asked when you both broke away from one another for air. You nodded in agreement and stood up with the help of Legolas hand.  For the whole way back, he didn’t let go of your hand instead he looked at you with a smile on his face. 
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