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#legolas one shot
entishramblings · 6 months
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Watcher of Wanderers [Legolas/F!Reader]
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A.N: this was intended just to be a mini one-shot to get back into writing. although, I will admit I got carried away. oops. heh.
Pairing: Legolas X F!Reader
Song Inspo: Mountain Meditation by Chantress Seba
🌬️ I highly recommend listening while reading
Summary: Legolas senses a presence following the fellowship on their journey and it seems to be particularly fond of him.
Disclaimer: all mythology related to the reader was made up for plot purposes lol. not canon.
Word count: 5.6k (once again, idk why I’m like this)
Warnings: comfort, fluff, loneliness, flirting, suggested sexual innuendos, stalking sort of (yes, again, I know. you’re just gonna have to read it I can’t explain it)
Additional Content: moodboard linked here
MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD
When you are nothing but a breeze that passes through the travelers’ bending hair. When you are nothing but a tickle that brushes upon the vagabonds’ breaking skin. When you are nothing but a whisper that hisses upon the wanders’ deaf ear. When you are nothing but alone, you too are a voyager.
That’s what (Y/N) was, wasn’t she?
She sailed through the years, watching every war and every battle. She observed every lover as she observed every enemy. She attended to them all, from their start and to their end. She perceived them hunt—first for food and drink, the simplest things, then for more. She witnessed them build—smaller creations in the beginning, then large structures that reached deep into her sky. She gazed at them as they grew, in mind and body. They began as little screaming balls of flesh, then sprouted into large beings that walked and talked. They produced more of themselves. They multiplied. Families, they had called it. She saw each one of them go by, twisting with desire as they did with age. Each was sneaking to find something—riches, power, hope, love, safety—but it didn’t really matter. She just bore witness. She bore witness to the happiness and to the dread. Yet, even when it was dark and desperate, she did nothing. She was silent—as she was meant to be.
Cursed to ride the winds for all of her immortal years.
Cursed to guide them and bend them.
Cursed to behold them.
Cursed to be them.
Alone.
A Watcher of Wanderers.
She was unescorted, unattended, and unchaperoned. She was unaccompanied as she wove through the desolate lands of Arda. Through the oceans, through the deserts, through the mountains, she bent and bellowed. But (Y/N) didn’t need anyone to accompany her, for she simply didn’t exist—at least not in the way one would think.
But after so long in solidarity, watching and observing, (Y/N) wondered what it would feel like to be more than what she was. She wondered what it was to taste and touch, to smell and see, to live and breath.
She thought how pain must feel. How did it bring red to the surface of their skin? How did it bring tears to their eyes? How did it bring screams to their throats?
Still, she wandered more.
She thought how laughter must feel. How did it bubble in their chests? How did it bring water to their faces? How did it bring glee from their mouths?
Still, she wandered more.
She thought about how love must feel. How did it soften their gazes? How did it bring drops upon their cheeks? How did it bring proclamations to their lips? How did it feel to welcome in another soul? Was it safe—not that she would know what safety felt like.
Still, she wandered more.
As each day passed and each traveler followed, she continued to question, guess, inquire.
Some of these creatures were more in tune with the natural currents of the word. It was the immortal beings, distinguished by the pointy ears that lent them an air of otherworldly grace and their lightning-quick reflexes. They were not just any immortals, but those whose lineages stretched back to ancestors who had walked among the Valar themselves. At times, (Y/N) entertained the fantasizing notion that they possessed the rare ability to hear her, though she recognized that this belief was nothing more than wishful thinking. As a watcher of wanderers, she liked these ones best.
Yet that did not mean that others did not catch her eye, for she was curious of anything unusual from the regular patterns of life. And when nine—born of various blood—walked together, her curiosity peaked.
So, she followed them.
One was a Maiar, but not like her. He shared the same celestial origin, shaped as one of the spirits meant to aid the Valar in their worldbuilding endeavors. However, his form differed greatly from hers—a form (Y/N) yearned for. She had seen him many times before, puffing his pipe. He had many names, but most knew him as Gandalf.
Two more figures accompanied him, mortal beings aging like the rolling seasons. Burling and tumbling they went, with their countless heavy weapons. One emanated kindness, his heart a wellspring of warmth. She had seen him before too. But the other, he was….troubled.
Another was one of the immortal, graceful, pointy-eared race—elves, she recalled. He was fluid and elegantant. He was observant and evaluating. He was tranquil yet vigorous. (Y/N) liked this one. She always had liked the elves.
From the mountainous regions of unyielding stone came another companion—a burly and gruff figure. His anger resonated in the sharpness of his words and the boastry of his laughter. (Y/N) could feel his temperament through the earth's vibrations. It wasn't always pleasant
Next, matched four more. They were stompers and stumblers, in a clumsy sort of way; yet, it was evident that they held no desire to ravage the earth. If anything, they seemed to harbor deep affection for it. The sad one broke her heart, the kind one warmed her soul, and the last two made her giggle….and sometimes she thought the elf could hear it.
See that was the thing.
Initially, her fascination led her to accompany them, drawn by their sheer otherness—such a strange assembly of beings walking in unison. But as she ventured alongside them, she felt connected to them. She got to know them, and one seemed to know her….sorta.
The first time she noticed such a thing was when a sound of joy escaped her being.
The two silly ones, which she found out to be named Merry and Pippin, were cracking jokes at one another and performing a game of riddles. As they did so, they ended up breaking into an argument. The most ridiculous words they called each other: mushroom murderer, squash squisher, beet beater…..
She couldn’t help but release a whisper of amusement, and when she did, the elf—Legolas—abruptly halted. His eyes brimmed with uncertainty, and he swiveled his head, as though searching for someone.
But he couldn’t….
No…
He couldn’t have heard her….could he?
Of course, occasionally, all could hear her. In moments of anger, she would unleash her fury with deafening howls and piercing screams, causing gusts to bellow and trees to tremble. Her yell created a hollow sound as it funneled through the rest of the world—echoing upon mountains, bouncing off houses, riding along hills, drifting through the farmer’s mills. It took much frustration to create such a ruckus of vibrations. However, just a faint breath of joy? There was no way the elf could hear that….right?
…..
The second time that a strange encounter occurred was when the group stopped by a deep river. Legolas had wandered a little way away from the group where the trees were denser and the light was less, and oh of course (Y/N) followed.
There, the elf stripped off his clothing, letting the moonlight bend and dip upon his muscled form. The cool night air played gently against his bare skin as he ventured into the water, welcoming the invigorating sensation. With his hands, he meticulously scrubbed away any lingering grime, running his palms across his arms and fingers through his damp hair until no trace of dirt remained.
Gently, he laid upon his back, floating at the surface of the smooth river.
(Y/N) watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and repeatedly. Meditation, she recalled the elvish creatures of the world calling it.
Eager to draw nearer, (Y/N) gracefully glided closer, brushing ever so lightly upon the surface of the ripples. She circled him, her gaze drinking in every detail of his form slightly obstructed by the water—his elegant facial features, his sleek hair, his sculpted biceps, his toned abs, the sharp v-line of his lower abdomen, and, she couldn't help but notice his rather large…
A soft giggle escaped her lips, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.
Instantly, Legolas sprang upright, his feet finding a place upon the rocks beneath the now turbulent ripples. He swiftly pivoted, calling out, “Who’s there?!”
(Y/N) was still, shock and uncertainty shrouding her.
Legolas' cerulean eyes darted anxiously from side to side, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He moved with haste, continually spinning around in search of…..something.
“You…you can hear me?” (Y/N) whispered.
He did not respond and his state did not change. There was not an ounce of any recognition across his features.
…..
The third time that Legolas was startled by the curious enigma that appeared to be haunting him was when the fellowship had set up camp for the night.
Gandalf and Legolas were on watch, their attentive gazes shifting from the crackling fire to the perimeters of their camp. Mithanduil contentedly puffed on his pipe, releasing wisps of smoke that ascended into the night sky. Legolas was methodically sharpening the tips of his arrows, preparing for the inevitable fight. The ambiance was strangely peaceful, with the imminent dangers appearing to be held at bay, at least for the moment, even in the face of the dread.
However, this serene atmosphere suffered a sudden intrusion, initiated by (Y/N)'s ever-present curiosity.
She loved watching the creatures of Arda. It was her favorite pastime over the eons. Well, her only pastime. After all, she was a watcher of wanderers. For, as her shapeless form, there was nothing more she could do with her existence.
Therefore, when the elf began to draw whetstone upon the tops of his arrows, (Y/N) wanted to observe. She crept closer to him, becoming entranced by the rhythmic and tranquil nature of his movements. Drawn into the spectacle, she leaned in further and further until, unintentionally, she brushed lightly against his form.
His hand instinctively reached for his shoulder as his wide cerulean blues initiated their frequent and fervent scanning of the dim surroundings—a routine that seemed to be occurring with increasing regularity nowadays.
Gandalf’s gray eyes drifted upon the elf curiously, his bushy brows lifting in questions.
“I swore…” Legolas began, still peering about the campsite. “I swore I felt…something.”
The wizard’s inquiring gaze only deepened, imploring the elf to add more to his rather empty statement.
Noticing Gandalf's unspoken request for more information, Legolas continued, "My apologies, Mithranduil. Lately, I've been sensing a presence. Yet, when I search for it, I'm met with nothing but emptiness and confusion."
Gandalf huffed before pressing his lips to his pipe again, his gaze drifting away in a dismissal of danger. “It is probably just (Y/N).”
“(Y/N)?” He questioned, still puzzled.
Gandalf glanced at Legolas, and with a nonchalant hum, he spoke again. “The spirit of the wind. A Maiar with a form that knows no shape.” He rolled his eyes as he gruffed out an additional mumbling sentence. “She has a particular fondness for elves.”
Legolas, still flushed with adrenaline, only stared at him. “I—I do not understand.”
The wizard’s gray gaze drifted back to the elf, who was clearly seeking answers. “(Y/N) is one of the Maiar, tasked many ages ago by Manwë to help shape Arda. She still lingers in this realm, often stirring up her usual mischief as she follows wanderers on their adventures."
Legolas frowned. “If she wanders this earth, why can I see her not?”
Gandalf drew another puff from his pipe before responding, "She was cursed to be without form, unlike myself."
“Cursed? But why?”
The wizard raised his bushy brows once more. “Her mischief irked many—especially Manwë.”
“What sorts of mischief do you speak of?”
Gandalf shrugged. “Inconsequential pranks and harmless tricks. Quite frankly, an annoyance to us all, but not dangerous.”
At that very moment, a gust of wind swept in rather forcefully, causing the wizard's beard to billow and lifting his hat into the air, sending it spiraling down to land by his feet.
Legolas's lips parted in surprise as the wind subsided, and Gandalf let out a string of curses and grumbles.
"I believe you might have offended her," Legolas remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
The wizard snorted, his irritation obvious, as he picked his hat up and placed it atop his head once more.
….
As the weeks continued on, Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s subtle presence.
It seemed she was indeed traveling with them. On scorching hot days, a refreshing breeze would rise and caress them gently, offering some much-needed relief. As the autumn months settled in, that coolness transformed into a warm breath flowing through the air, comforting them. When they kindled fires, little gusts rushed forward, providing oxygen and nurturing the flames. If an item of clothing or a parcel were dropped, it would be delicately carried toward a hand ready to collect. It was as if the wind—(Y/N)—was assisting them along their quest.
It was particularly noticeable to Legolas that she often lingered in close proximity to him. Her presence seemed to envelop him frequently, becoming unmistakable and distinct.
When Legolas would be tasked to collect firewood, a gentle breeze would follow him. It would brush leaves out of the way to reveal dry wood and small sticks, perfect for kindling. The wind murmured songs among the soil, almost as if it were beckoning him to dance.
When Legolas would be hunting for food, a calm drift would search alongside him. It would twist through the brush, startling small prey to reveal them to him. The wind breathed wordless encouragement to him, as if challenging him to impress her.
When Legolas would be walking upon hard terrain, a playful gust would walk with him. It would blow his hair away from his face to reveal his features. The wind sent flirtatious laughter upon his elvish ear, chasing shivers along his nerves.
When Legolas would be changing out of mud or blood covered clothes, a devious wisk would linger behind him. It would push his tunic and undershirt upwards to reveal his muscled form then make his extra clothing scatter. The wind whispered sultry glee to him, teasing him in efforts to show more.
This mischievous presence that shrouded him seemed to flirt with him—challenge, play, and engage. Of course, Legolas recalled Gandalf's earlier assertion that the wind spirit held a particular fondness for elves, but the true depth of this fondness had only become apparent as her companionship persisted. He couldn't deny that their ongoing interaction held a certain allure, for he would be lying if he said their little game did not entertain him.
When the fellowship was in Moria, however, silence reigned. The usual gusts and breezes that had accompanied them were absent. It was as if the very air mourned with them. Yet, as soon as they exited, with grief heavy upon their soul, a quick adrenalized wind came to find them. It seemed to brush around the rocks, taking in the pain of the travelers and trying to process what it meant. Though, as the wind noticed one was no longer there, she took to sending warmth their way in hopes to soften the sorrow—shrouding Legolas for just a moment longer than the others.
When the fellowship was in Lothlorien, (Y/N) came too. Rustling up trouble among the elves with flirtatious gusts, lifting skirts and sweeping away cloaks, fostering much annoyance and embarrassment among the immortal elven folk. However, those brushes of wind often struck Legolas more than any other.
When the fellowship—or rather the three that remained—took to sprinting across Arda, the wind ran alongside them. It pushed them forward with encouragement, almost too eagerly and too persistent. It was as if she was whispering ‘hurry hurry’ in their ears—as if she possessed knowledge they did not. Though Legolas suspected neither Gimli nor Aragorn noticed the subtle guidance of the wind.
A watcher of wanderers indeed.
As the group arrived in Rohan, their hearts brimmed with renewed hope, for they had gained the knowledge of Merry and Pippin’s life and the presence of Gandalf.
Following Mithranduil's expulsion of the sorcery that had ensnared King Théoden, the weary travelers were ushered to various chambers where they could refresh themselves and find much-needed rest.
Legolas opted to bathe immediately, determined to liberate himself from the accumulated dirt and grime that had clung to his body through the arduous months of travel. He eased into the in-ground basin, the soothing warmth and enveloping steam creating a cocoon of comfort. He tended to his skin and hair with meticulous care until he finally felt rejuvenated. Elves did not like to linger in grime.
Emerging from the bath, he stepped into the adjacent bedroom, where his gaze was drawn to the open windows, allowing the cool breeze to waft in. The wind seemed to recognize him instantly, rushing forth with an almost mischievous enthusiasm. It nearly yanked his towel from his waist! It was only through his quick reflexes that he narrowly avoided a less than modest reveal.
Legolas ground his teeth. “(Y/N),” he mumbled in a chastising tone.
In response, the wind seemed to giggle, as if playfully toying with him.
He rewrapped the towel and hastened to close the windows, yearning for a night of undisturbed peace. Normally, he would tolerate (Y/N)'s whimsical outbursts, but on this night, his weary body and mind craved respite and tranquility.
Legolas changed into more comfortable attire and settled into his bed. He allowed his heavy eyelids to drift shut, for he craved sleep. But after a brief moment, they snapped open.
He watched as the curtains shifted ever so slightly, followed by the tapestry on the wall and the drapes above his bed. The blanket beside him rustled gently, and then, there was no movement in the room.
She hadn't left when he closed the windows.
She was still here.
Though he couldn't see her, he was acutely aware of her presence…right beside him.
The elf couldn't help but blush, a warm crimson hue creeping up upon his ears and cheeks. Oh, if his Ada knew he was flirting with the wind….
In an effort to divert his thoughts from such matters and avoid giving (Y/N) any indication that he was dwelling on them, the elf shifted onto his side, turning away from the playful Spirit whose home was the sky.
…..
Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s presence among the battles at Helms Deep and the Fields of Pelennor; although it wasn't until the latter that he knew for sure she was actively fighting alongside him.
Amidst the relentless chaos, the elf wielded his two silver blades, using them with deadly precision to cut the throat of one orc and immediately behead another. He swiftly pressed on, eliminating as many of the enemy forces as he could.
The men around him were growing weary, their energy dwindling, but Legolas continued to stand firm, even though he too felt the drain on his strength.It seemed the dark forces had taken notice of the relentless devastation he was causing among their ranks, as they began to single him out. Hordes of orcs began converging on him, and Sauron's archers took aim. However, the arrows meant for him didn't find their mark. They veered off course, curving with an unexpected gust of wind, plunging directly into three orcs nearby.
Legolas whipped his head around in astonishment, but it took only a moment for him to grasp the source of this unexpected intervention: (Y/N).
As he continued to take down orc after orc, she remained by his side, using her ethereal presence to force the creatures back into one another, granting Legolas a distinct advantage and a brief moment to catch his breath. She deflected arrows aimed at him and extended her helping hand when he faced the Oliphaunt. She even lifted him up with a gentle drift when his footing faltered. (Y/N) followed Legolas throughout the battlefield, her commitment unwavering, even after the war had drawn to a close.
Exhausted and burdened by grief and relief, the mortal, battle-weary soldiers sought solace and took to rest, heal, and eat.
Legolas volunteered to wander the battlefield in search of any survivors.
He tread carefully, his feet moving softly over the blood-soaked and red-stained earth. The ground seemed to bear witness to the agony, uncertainty, and hope that had marked their strenuous journey. Legolas had never anticipated surviving the trials that had befallen him, yet here he stood, alive and persevering against all odds.
With a heavy heart and the absence of survivors to be found, Legolas, fatigued and drained, decided to make his way back to his comrades who were attending to the wounded and offering peace to those in need.
In a sudden fierce gust of wind, Legolas found himself surrounded by an unexpected swirl. Swiftly, he whirled around, his keen elven senses alert, just in time to witness an orc raising an axe menacingly above his head, poised to strike.
However, Legolas was not met with such a gruesome fate. The wind seemed to rise against the approaching beast, as though an invisible force hindered its advance. However, that force began to no longer be invisible. A strange, translucent figure began to materialize into the opaque form of a woman. She stood, her back pressed against his chest and her front pushing firmly against the would-be assailant. With her arms raised high, she held the axe at bay, preventing the deadly blow from falling upon the elf.
Legolas' lips parted in astonishment, his eyes widening as he struggled to comprehend the event unfolding before him. But everything transpired too swiftly for him to intervene. The figure solidified, to the point that he could feel her against him, and the axe came down at an unusual angle, slicing into the woman's side.
A cry escaped her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, her pain echoing through the air.
Suddenly thrust back into the harsh reality of battle, Legolas swiftly grasped the knife strapped to his belt. In one fluid motion, he drove the blade into the orc's heart. The creature gurgled for a moment, blood pooling from its mouth, before finally collapsing lifeless.
Without hesitation, Legolas fell to the unconscious woman crumpled at his feet. His heart clenched with dread as he noticed the crimson stains spreading across the delicate, iridescent fabric that cloaked his form.
"No, no, no," he murmured, his hands pressing against the wound in a frantic attempt to stop the bleeding. Panic tinged his voice as he glanced at her face, his voice rising in desperation, " (Y/N), you foolish Maiar. Why did you intervene? Why did you put yourself in harm's way?" His bloodied hand gently cupped her cheek. "Wake up. Come on, wake up!"
She remained unresponsive.
Swiftly, Legolas gathered her into his arms, keeping one hand pressed against the bleeding wound, and hurried towards the makeshift infirmary.
Pushing the doors open, he called out in a voice laced with fear, "Aragorn!"
Immediately, the urgent tone drew the attention of those nearby, even in the midst of the ongoing chaos of the healing ward. The Ranger, alerted by the distress in his friend's voice, swiftly moved past the curious onlookers, with Gimli at his side and Gandalf following not too far behind.
“A-an ax to the side. She’s bleeding heavily,” he sputtered out. “Please.”
Pointing to a makeshift bed, Aragorn commanded. ‘Get her on that cot! Quickly now.”
Gimili, entirely bewildered by the unfolding events and his friend’s frantic behavior, called out, “Laddie, who is that?!”
Legolas, gently placing her form on the cot, didn't even bother to look at his dwarf companion as he replied. “(Y/N).”
The dwarf shook his head and raised his hands in confusion. “Who the fuck is (Y/N)?!”
The elf sent Gimli a quick, almost exasperated glance. "The wind!" he snapped back, a bit too sharply.
Gimli’s eyes drifted around the room, his confusion turning into concern for his friend’s well being. “The wind?” he questioned. “Did ya happen to get knocked in the head, tree boy?”
It was Gandalf that chimed in. “(Y/N), a Maiar, the spirit of the wind. She has been with us throughout our journey.”
Aragorn shot the wizard a brief look as he swiftly cut away the mysterious, translucent fabric cloaking the woman and began tending to the deep, bleeding wound.
“With us the entire time?!” Gimli bellowed. “Then why haven't I seen her once?"
Gandalf peered over Aragorn’s shoulder. “She doesn't have a corporal form. At least, she didn’t. I’m afraid this is the first time any of us are seeing her.”
Legolas ran his bloodied hands through his hair, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he stepped back. His chest felt constricted with worry while his eyes remained fixated on the woman as Aragorn worked. “Can you do it, Aragorn? Can you save her?” he implored, his voice quivering with a mixture of desperation and hope.
The man met Legolas' gaze. His determination to save her was unwavering, even in the face of this strange reveal of a profound connection between a force he didn't know existed and his dear friend. Seeing Legolas’ pain, he responded firmly, "I will try."
Gimli, moving to stand beside the wizard, watched the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He couldn't help but murmur, "I've never seen him so frazzled before." His words were filled with a deep sense of empathy for his elven friend, for this had clearly shaken Legolas to his core.
Gandalf let his gaze shift from the elf to Gimli, offering the dwarf a knowing look in response.
The watcher of wanderers had now become a wonder to the wanderers themselves.
……
Legolas sat in a chair beside (Y/N). He was quiet and still as he watched her chest rise and fall steadily. Aragorn had successfully treated her wound, preventing infection, though she remained unconscious. She rested soundlessly, her expression peaceful—despite Legolas’ bloody handprint, now brown, dried, and cracking, that lingered upon her cheek. Her features were graceful and elegant. Each curve and bend of her face accentuated her beauty. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to look like, though how she appeared made sense with her temperament. He could see her flirtatious streak, her mischievous tone, and her protective aurora. She was exactly what wind would be: strong yet gentle, fierce yet calm, emotional yet stern.
He watched over her, just as she had watched over him. So intently, that he didn't notice one behind him until a hand pressed firmly upon his shoulder.
"Legolas," Aragorn began, his expression filled with gentle concern as he inquired, "How do you know this woman?"
Legolas sighed, keeping his gaze on her. "She has been traveling with us," he explained.
The sound of wood scraping against stone told the elf that the Ranger pulled a nearby chair over to sit next to him.
“So Gandalf said. Though I do not understand,” Aragorn admitted.
Legolas shifted. “I started to notice strange occurrences—unexplained events.”
Aragorn raised a brow, “Strange occurrences?”
Legolas felt his cheeks heat as he cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, but more importantly, I noticed something helping us. Consistently.” He paused, “I asked Mithranduil about it and he told me of her.” He shook his head. “He said she was cursed to watch us—us inhabitants of Arda—and not be able to walk among us.”
“Then how is she here now before us, like this.”
Legolas glanced at his hands, a hint of nervousness in his expression. “I asked Mithranduil that too,” he admitted. “He said her sacrifice must have ended her limbo.” He then let his eyes land on his friend and he spoke once more, his tone almost fearful and definitely shy—something Aragorn had never seen from the elf. “If she doesn't survive, because of me, will Arda have wind no longer? I haven't felt a single breeze since she fell.”
Aragorn sighed. “I do not know, my friend. I do not know.” He reached forward and placed his hand upon his shoulder. “Please go clean up and rest. You are no good to her like this. I will take care of her, I promise.”
Legolas hesitated, “But what if she wakes?”
The Ranger sighed again, “If she wakes, I will send someone to—”
He was interrupted by a soft groan escaping from the lips of the Wind Spirit.
Instantly, both Legolas and Aragorn turned to look at the woman.
Her eyelids lazily blinked open, and she gradually became aware of her surroundings. A frown creased her face as she emitted another groan. Her hand moved slowly, making its way down to her bandaged side.
"What... what is this feeling?" she murmured to herself, puzzled by the sensations.
To her astonishment, Legolas responded, “Pain.”
She scrambled to sit upright in bed, the pain surging through her body but the sheer force of adrenaline propelled her actions. “You–you can hear me?” she whispered, eyes wide.
Legolas moved closer, taking a seat on the edge of the cot. In a gentle tone, he answered, "I can hear you. I can see you." He tenderly raised his hand to her cheek, resting it on the dried bloody mark already there. "And I can feel you."
A hushed gasp escaped her lips as she reached up to touch his hand. "It's... it's warm," she remarked, her voice filled with surprise. "I didn't expect it to be warm."
The elf smiled gently in response.
A mischievous smirk then graced her lips, and her gaze, rather unmistakably, wandered down his figure and briefly settled upon his pants. “Is everything this warm?” she inquired with a teasing tone.
Taken aback by her words and her brazen gaze, he cleared his throat. A noticeable flush crept across his cheeks and ears as he broke eye contact. With that, Legolas turned to face Aragorn, who stood behind him with raised eyebrows and a playful grin forming at the corner of his mouth. “My apologies, Aragorn.” He glanced back at the Wind Spirit. “(Y/N), this is—”
She interrupted him, her eyes on the other man. “I know who he is,” she said with confidence. “Aragorn, son of Arathorn the second, also called Strider or Wingfoot, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and the Uncrowned King of Gondor.”
The expressions on both men's faces contorted, morphing to sheer astonishment—how did she know all that?
(Y/N) grinned sheepishly. "I am the wind," she confessed. "I see and hear a great deal."
…..
The Minas Tirith Castle was cloaked in the deep shroud of a late moonlit night as Legolas walked through its ancient halls. The soft flickering of torchlight painted wavering shadows on the weathered stone walls, lending an atmosphere that resonated with the weight of its history. His footsteps were silent as he moved, and his thoughts followed suit, meandering through the corridors of his mind.
However, up ahead, a figure bathed in a gentle glow caused Legolas to abruptly halt in his tracks, his thoughts instantly converging on the woman.
“(Y/N),” he called out, approaching her. “What are you doing away from the House of Healing? You shouldn't be out of bed. You should be resting!”
She let out an exasperated sigh, not appreciating his chastising tone. "I am a watcher of wanderers, Legolas. Therefore, I too am a voyager. It is not in my nature to stay still."
Legolas released a heated breath through his nose. “That may be true, but you now have a corporal form. No longer are you just a breeze.”
She rolled her eyes, shifting her feet to hide the persistent pain emanating from her side. “I may not be a breeze any longer, but I still control all the winds of Arda. I could knock you on your ass in seconds, injured or not.”
Legolas chuckled lightly. “I never would have gotten involved with the wind if I knew she was so temperamental,” he teased.
(Y/N), suppressing a grin, responded with a snarky retort. “Oh, so we are involved, are we?”
The elf sent her a look, trying to hide his expression of amusement. “I would be naive to think that all the times the wind flirted with me, it was just a ploy.”
“Maybe I enjoy a ploy from century to century, Legolas,” she replied.
He laughed lightly at her jest, then took a step closer, his demeanor shifting to one of seriousness. Gently, he pressed his hand to her bandaged side. “(Y/N),” he began softly. “Why did you do it? Why did you get in between that orc and I?”
She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with sincerity. “You know why.”
“Say it,” he commanded.
“Because,” she began, her tone becoming shy and soft. “Because, I—I love you.”
Instantly, Legolas wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips fervently against hers. As their mouths met with equal intensity, he tasted the essence of the wind. And oh, it tasted of adventure, suffering, and joy. It tasted of warm bread from the north, bitter nuts from the east, clear water from the south, and fresh fruit from the west. It tasted of eons and eons of wandering, yet still, she tasted of home. Her hands found their way into his golden locks of hair, twisting and tugging it lightly. He allowed her to siphon off his heat, for the wind was often cold and bellowing. Though, he could tell she was taking more than just his warmth—she was taking his love; and oh, he gladly gave it to her.
…..
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thewulf · 14 days
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Entwined Realms || Legolas
Summary: Request: So I thought about this idea with Legolas x reader where the reader is the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn (which makes her princess of Lothlorien and a very high elf) and she is nervous because its commonly known that Galadriel and Thranduil dont like each other (she is still his superior but you get the point) and the reader and Legolas have a dinner or some council or something together with their parents.
A/N: This was one of my favs to write. Just love everything LOTR... please keep them coming! Thank you for the request @lillisummers
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.1k +
TW: Talks of war/death
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In the timeless realm of Lothlórien, you, the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, walked among the golden trees with a heavy heart filled with the weight of ancient grudges. It had been many years since you last tread upon these familiar paths, for you had spent much of your time in Rivendell, aiding in the healing of those who bore the scars of war.
As a princess of the high elves, you bore the burden of your lineage with grace. Yet the tension between your mother and Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, weighed heavily upon you. The animosity between them was no secret, and you often found yourself caught in the midst of their disagreements. You were torn between loyalty to your mother and the desire for unity among your people after the war of the ring. Your return to Lothlórien had been sudden, called back by your father during the darkest days of the war. The news of battles raging across middle earth had filled you with dread. Yet, you knew that your place was by your family's side, lending whatever aid you could in the struggle against the darkness.
Despite the discord that lingered between your realms you held onto hope, believing in the power of unity to overcome adversity. The memories of Celebrian's capture and torture haunted you still. She drove your determination to see an end to the suffering that had plagued your people for so long.
As you walked beneath the golden canopy of the trees, you found solace in the familiar sights and sounds of Lothlórien. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the branches. They spoke to you of peace and beauty, reminding you of all that was worth fighting for in this world. Your steps carried you towards a familiar spot. The quiet glade where the gravestones of those fallen in battle lay. The air was hushed. The only sound was the soft whisper of leaves and the gentle trickle of water from the nearby streams.
Stopping by the gravestones, you traced your fingers over each weathered stone, feeling the weight of loss settle upon your heart. Here, beneath the earth, lay the brave souls who had given their lives in service of a greater cause. A cause that you had fought for alongside them. Your thoughts turned to Haldir, the gallant Marchwarden who had stood by your side in the darkest of times. His laughter, his kindness, his unwavering loyalty… they were memories that you held dear, memories that would live on long after he had passed from this world. At one point you were convinced you would marry him but that was before he was taken so suddenly from you.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself a moment of silence. A moment to remember those who had been taken from you too soon. Their faces flashed before your eyes, friends, fighters, and loved ones alike. Each one leaving behind an indelible mark upon your soul. And yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also hope. Hope for a future where their sacrifices would not be in vain. Where the darkness would be banished for good and the light would shine so brightly once more. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you vowed to carry their memory with you always, to honor their legacy in all that you did.
As you stood amidst the gravestones, lost in memories and reflections, a soft voice broke through the silence. She was calling your name. You turned to see your mother, Galadriel, approaching with a gentle smile upon her lips. Her eyes, always so wise and knowing, held a depth of understanding that eased the ache in your heart.
"Y/n," she said, her voice like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, "I have been searching for you. It is good to see you home again. You look well my love."
You returned her smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you at the sight of her familiar face. "It is good to be home, Mother," you replied, stepping forward to embrace her.
Galadriel held you close, tight. Her arms a reassuring embrace amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. "You have been missed, my dear," she said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
As you pulled away, Galadriel's gaze softened. Her eyes filled with a mixture of pride and affection. "There is much to discuss," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "But first, I have news that I believe will bring you much joy."
Curiosity piqued, you listened as Galadriel spoke of the upcoming marriage between your niece, Arwen, and Aragorn, the King of Gondor. The news filled you with a sense of anticipation, the prospect of a wedding bringing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had shrouded middle earth for so long. "I would be honored to attend," you said. Your heart swelling with love for your family and excitement for the joyous occasion to come.
Galadriel smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "I had no doubt that you would," she said, her voice tinged with warmth. "Come, let us return to Caras Galadhon and begin preparations. There is much to do, and little time to waste." She motioned you to follow her.
With a nod of agreement, you fell into step beside your mother. It felt as though the weight of grief and loss lightened by the promise of love and celebration on the horizon. As you walked the golden light of Lothlórien illuminated your path guiding you towards a future filled with possibility.
Too quickly the day of celebration arrived. The grand halls of Minas Tirith were adorned with banners and flowers, filling the air with a sense of festivity and anticipation. You, dressed in your finest elven attire, mingled with the guests. Your heart was aflutter with excitement and nerves for your niece and the King of Gondor. Amidst the bustling crowd, your eyes scanned the faces of those gathered taking in the sight of strangers and acquaintances alike. And then your gaze met that of a mysterious elven stranger across the ornate courtyard who you did not recognize.
His eyes were a captivating shade of blue. They held a warmth and kindness that drew you in, sending a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment it felt as though the world around you had faded away leaving only you and this enigmatic stranger in a universe of your own making. But as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. Broken by the sound of laughter and music drifting through the air you tore your gaze away. Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, heart racing with the memory of that brief but electrifying encounter.
Though you knew not who he was, nor what fate had in store for you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this chance meeting was somehow significant. And as you allowed yourself to be swept away by the joyous festivities you couldn't help but wonder about the identity of the mysterious elven stranger who had captured your attention with a single glance.
As the celebration unfolded you found yourself standing beside Arwen, basking in the glow of her happiness as she greeted guests and well-wishers. The air was filled with laughter and music. The joyous atmosphere infectious as people celebrated the union of Arwen and Aragorn. But amidst the revelry your attention kept drifting back to the beautiful blonde elf who had caught your eye earlier. He stood amidst a group of guests, his presence commanding and his gaze holding a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in.
Unable to contain your curiosity any longer you turned to Arwen with a hint of nervousness in your voice. "Arwen," you began, pointing subtly towards the mysterious elf, "who is that?"
Arwen followed your gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she noticed your interest in the stranger. "Ah, him," she said, her tone tinged with mystery. "That is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."
Legolas. The name echoed in your mind. Though you knew little about him there was something about the way he carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to hold a thousand untold stories that intrigued you beyond measure. As Arwen spoke of Legolas' exploits and noble deeds you found yourself captivated by the tales of his courage and valor. And though you knew it was foolish to be so taken with a stranger, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him. Something that called to you on a level you couldn't quite understand.
With a grateful smile you thanked Arwen for indulging your curiosity. Though your mind was already consumed with thoughts of the mysterious Prince of Mirkwood. And as you turned your attention back to the festivities you couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of the captivating blonde elf who had captured your attention with a single glance.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. You found yourself drawn into the lively conversations and laughter that filled the air.
As if he had known your every thought, he had come right up to you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he offered you a goblet of wine. "Care for some wine, my lady?" he asked, his voice smooth and all too inviting.
Grateful for the distraction you accepted the goblet with a smile, the cool liquid soothing the nerves that had been fluttering in your stomach. "Thank you," you replied, taking a sip and relishing the taste of the rich, fruity wine.
As you savored the wine, Legolas took a seat beside you. His eyes alight with curiosity as he extended his hand in introduction. "I am Legolas," he said, his tone warm and genuine. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
You felt a rush of excitement at the sound of his name, "And I am Y/n," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness that you quickly tried to mask.
Legolas smiled warmly at you, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he raised his own goblet in a silent toast. "Well then, Y/n, here's to new acquaintances and delightful conversations," he spoke.
As the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn into conversation with Legolas. His easy charm and quick wit putting you at ease. Despite your initial nervousness you soon found yourself laughing and chatting with him as if you had known each other for years. With each passing moment you felt yourself growing more and more enchanted by Legolas. His presence filling you with a sense of warmth and belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time. Not since before your sister had set sail. And as you shared stories and laughter with the captivating Prince of Mirkwood you couldn't help but wonder what adventures lay in store for you both in the days to come.
When the topic turned to your family, you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension, unsure of how he would react upon learning the truth. "Your parents must be proud of you," Legolas remarked, his voice sincere as he glanced around at the grandeur of Minas Tirith. "To have a daughter as kind and courageous as you."
You smiled, touched by his words. Though a part of you hesitated to reveal your true lineage. "Thank you, Legolas," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "My parents... they are indeed proud, though our family is not without its complexities."
Legolas cocked his head with curiosity shining bright in his eyes. "Complexities?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for his reaction. "My parents are Celeborn and Galadriel," you confessed, watching closely for any sign of recognition or judgment in his expression.
To your surprise, Legolas' eyes widened in genuine surprise, his gaze softening with understanding. "Galadriel," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "The Lady of Light herself. And Celeborn, the Lord of Lothlórien."
You nodded, relieved by his reaction. "Yes, though our family is not without its challenges," you admitted, your voice growing quiet. "There are... tensions between my parents and certain others in Middle-earth." You knew he knew, and he knew you knew. The two of you were dancing around your parents disdain for the other.
Legolas' expression grew somber. A shadow passing over his features. "I understand," he said, his tone tinged with empathy. "My own father, Thranduil, can be... difficult at times."
You felt a surge of empathy for Legolas knowing all too well the challenges that could arise from strained familial relationships. "It seems we are not so different after all," you said. A small smile playing at your lips.
Legolas returned your smile, his eyes warm and understanding. "Indeed," he said, his voice gentle. "But perhaps together, we can find a way to bridge the divide between our families."
Touched by his sincerity you could only keep grinning at him like a fool. "I would like that, Legolas," you replied. Your heart swelled with gratitude for the bond that was beginning to form between you.
As the night wore on into the wee hours of the morning you and Legolas found yourselves drawn deeper into each other's company. The hours quickly slipping away unnoticed as you laughed and talked beneath the starlit sky. The connection between you grew stronger with each passing moment. A bond of friendship and understanding blossoming into something deeper and more profound. Unfortunately, the celebration began to wind down. You found yourselves reluctant to part ways. The prospect of saying goodbye filling you with a sense of melancholy. "Perhaps we could extend our stay in Minas Tirith," Legolas suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of worry as if you wouldn’t accept. "There is still so much more to see and do. I have not seen this city without war disparaging it."
You nodded eagerly, the idea of spending more time with Legolas filling you with a sense of joy and excitement. "I would like that very much," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There is still so much more we have yet to see. You distracted me tonight."
And so, you and Legolas remained in Minas Tirith for longer than planned, seizing every opportunity to steal away moments alone together amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Whether wandering the streets hand in hand or sharing quiet conversations in secluded corners. Each moment spent in Legolas' company felt like a precious treasure, a memory to be cherished for eternity.
As your extended stay in Minis Tirith came to an end the bond between you and Legolas deepened further than you could have imagined. Your hearts intertwining in a dance as old as time itself. One evening beneath the stars after your going away dinner the two of you sat together in the quiet solitude of the gardens, surrounded by the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of crickets. The words you had been longing to say spilled forth from your lips.
"Legolas," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there is something I must confess to you." It truly was now or never for you did not know the next time you would see the elf that had captured your heart so quickly.
Legolas turned to you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, Y/n?" he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.
"I know this is quick,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, "And we tend to do this slow, but I must admit... I really like you. More than a friend would."
You glanced away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you awaited his response. But when you dared to meet his gaze once more you found Legolas looking at you with a tender smile. His eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored your own feelings.
"Y/n," he said softly, reaching out to gently take your face in his hand, "your honesty means the world to me. I too have come to care for you deeply as well. As more than a friend would."
Your heart soared at his words. A sense of joy flooding through you at the knowledge that your feelings were reciprocated. And as you sat together in the quiet beauty of the gardens you knew that your bond with Legolas was something truly special. It was the beginning of a love story that was just beginning to unfold.
You didn’t want the night to end so you kept your wandering through the gardens. "Legolas," you began, your voice tinged with concern, "what do you think about... our families?"
Legolas glanced at you. His gaze thoughtful. "Ah, our esteemed parents," he replied with a wry smile. "Stubborn as ancient oaks and twice as difficult to move."
You couldn't help but laugh at his analogy, feeling a sense of relief at his lighthearted approach to the situation. "Yes, that's one way to put it," you agreed. A smile playing at the corners of your lips.
"But," Legolas continued, his tone turning more serious, "I believe they will come around in time. After all, love has a way of softening even the hardest of hearts."
You nodded feeling a flicker of hope kindling within you. "I hope you're right," you replied, leaning closer to him. "I just want them to see... how much we care for each other."
Legolas placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. "They will, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "And until then, we'll just have to prove them wrong together."
As your time in Minas Tirith drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was time for your parents and Legolas to meet. Despite the tension between your families, you were determined to show them that love knew no bounds, and that their differences could be set aside in the name of happiness.
On the morning that both of you were to depart you knew what you had to do. "Legolas," you began. Your voice tinged with nervousness, "I know it's unconventional, but... what if you and your father were to visit Lothlórien?"
Legolas blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your suggestion. "Visit Lothlórien?" he echoed, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's an... intriguing idea, Y/n, but I'm not sure how my father would feel about it."
You nodded, understanding Legolas' reservations. "I know it's a risk," you admitted, "but I believe that if he could experience the beauty and hospitality of Lothlórien for himself, he might begin to understand... and perhaps even appreciate our way of life."
Legolas considered your words for a moment before a smile spread across his face. "You may be right, Y/n," he said, his eyes alight with excitement. "Let's extend the invitation to my father and see what he says."
With a renewed sense of hope, you and Legolas set about preparing for Thranduil's visit to Lothlórien. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to show both him and your parents that love could conquer even the deepest of divides. And so, with hearts full of anticipation and determination, you bid farewell to Minas Tirith. You knew that a new chapter of your journey was about to begin.
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As Legolas and an initially reluctant Thranduil arrived in Lothlórien, the tension between them was palpable. Thranduil's expression was stoic and reserved, while Legolas wore a strained smile who was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. You greeted them warmly, hoping to ease the atmosphere, but even your efforts seemed to fall flat in the face of the lingering animosity between your parents. The initial interactions were awkward only filled with polite but strained conversation and forced smiles.
But as the evening progressed and the wine flowed freely the atmosphere began to shift. Your parents, Thranduil, and Legolas found themselves gradually relaxing in each other's company. The rigid barriers between them slowly melting away under the influence of hope after the war and shared experiences. You watched with a mixture of joy and relief as the tension dissipated, replaced by laughter and genuine conversation. Thranduil who had initially been so guarded found himself opening up. He began to share stories and jokes with Celeborn and Galadriel as if they were old friends.
And Legolas, too, seemed to come alive in the warmth of his father’s acceptance. His smile growing more genuine with each passing moment. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders finally allowing him to truly be himself in their presence. He chuckled at one of Thranduil's jokes and clinked glasses with Celeborn, a genuine smile gracing his features.
In the midst of the conversation Legolas turned to you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Meleth nin," he said softly, his voice filled with utmost warmth.
As Legolas inadvertently uttered the Elvish endearment, my love, the words hung in the air laden with the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart skipped a beat at his slip-up, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you.
"Really?" you exclaimed. Your eyes widened with surprise and utmost delight. For a moment you almost forgot that your parents and Legolas' father were present too caught up in the rush of emotion that swept over you.
Legolas blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized what he had said in front of the parents. "I... uh, I mean..." he stammered, clearly flustered by your reaction.
But before he could finish, Thranduil let out a soft chuckle. The elvenking’s eyes twinkling with amusement. "It seems our children are more than just friends," he remarked to your parents. His tone surprisingly light-hearted.
You turned to your parents with a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I guess we should have mentioned that sooner," you admitted feeling a surge of relief as you saw their understanding smiles.
Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged knowing glances before Celeborn spoke up. "Love has a way of revealing itself in unexpected ways," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "We are happy for you both."
Thranduil let out a small chuckle. His eyes crinkling with amusement. "Young love," he said before shaking his head in mock exasperation. "It seems like only yesterday that Legolas was just a boy chasing after butterflies in the woods."
Legolas rolled his eyes playfully at his father's comment. "I assure you, Ada, I have grown up a bit since then," he spoke. His tone teasing but affectionate.
Celeborn chuckled softly his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice warm. "But some things never change." He motioned to you with a knowing grin.
And as the tension melted away completely, replaced by laughter, and shared understanding, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unwavering support of your parents. With their blessing and acceptance, you and Legolas knew that your love story was only just beginning. You were finally destined to have a beautiful and unforgettable journey filled with laughter, joy, and the sweet promise of a future together. You had waited a long time for this. A very long time.
As the night grew deeper and the fire crackled softly, you and Legolas found yourselves immersed in a comfortable silence. The two of you basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Legolas turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes, taking your hand in his. "Well, my dear, it seems the hour grows late," he remarked, his voice soft and warm.
You nodded feeling a surge of affection for the elf beside you. "Yes, it does," you replied, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
With a gentle tug on your hand Legolas rose to his feet pulling you up with him. "Allow me to escort you to your room," he said. His voice filled with gentle sincerity.
You followed him, the touch of his hand sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As you reached your door, Legolas turned to you. His eyes sparkling with mischief. "Until next time, meleth nin," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before turning to leave.
A faint blush coated your cheeks at his actions. “Until next time, meleth nin.” You repeated. You watched him go with a smile playing at your lips as you realized that no matter what adventures lay ahead, you would face them with him. Oh, what a life.
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shrubdaddy · 1 year
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elucidative | l.greenleaf
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: elucidative |. /ih-loo-si-deyt/ | verb | to make lucid especially by explanation or analysis | y/n is only a little dumb
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: legolas x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k
a/n: Hiii - Sorry I've been MIA - work has been a bit more hectic and I've been having a hard time finding time to write! I could not stop thinking about the Bridgerton scene with Charlotte and George. Lightly inspired by @reality-warp 'Rávamë’s Bane Trilogy', quite literally one of my all-time fave fics and authors in this fandom and is a literal queen in world and character building so check out her fics if you haven't already!
copyright © | please do not repost my work.
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“Manwë’s breath, how much higher can this wall get?”
Reaching for yet another tendril of the vines climbing up the wall, you attempt to climb higher up the stone wall.
It was a precarious situation — one in which you did not expect to be but were not entirely surprised to find yourself in.
You scaled the stone walls attempting to reach the top of the wall to escape yet another suitor. With flowing sleeves laced with snagged threads and leaves woven into your hair, you don’t quite know how long you’ve been attempting your half-scattered escape plan. At this moment, all you knew was that you’d been in this dreaded courtyard for over an hour and you would not be waiting another minute to be trapped and shackled for the next “prince” to come around.
As a ward of Lord Glorfindel, you were of course expected to adhere to the life of a lady in every way possible. You’ve studied every subject, attended every lesson from etiquette and mannerisms to reading and writing in Khuzdul, and attended each and every dreadful social event your father has encouraged.
Feeling your grip falter yet again, you stumble backward and glare at the very metaphoric yet also a very real wall in front of you.
You have always strived to be the perfect daughter in every way possible. However, in regard to love and courtship, you refuse to follow the ancient, decrepit tradition. Between the many years of dodging conversations and offers of marriage, you’ve reached way past the age of courtship, spending many years avoiding each and every suitor thrown your way.
Rather than bubbling with excitement, you felt the fear of the unknown settle in. Having so much to live for and not enough time to experience, you think of your time spent with the twins and the Rangers of the North — time spent traveling, exploring, and living.
You remember joining the twins and meeting Aragorn… meeting Legolas. He was an elven ranger you befriended through Aragorn. He was strong and sturdy, and for a moment you thought you were in love. The camp up North was a place where not many talked of their past but where they all focused on the present. It was a simple life but it was the life you were able to create for yourself.
Lost in the thoughts of the slow spiral of your sanity, you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you as you reached yet again for the closest, protruding stone on the wall —
“What in the world are you doing?”
Without turning to even see who it is, you let go of one hand waving your intruding guest away.
“Please mind your own business, sir. You can escort yourself out — possibly, somewhere that is anywhere but here.”
You continue your ascent without a second thought but slipped down the wall as stone slowly tore up your hands. Stepping back, you place your hands on your hips and take a look at the growing annoyance in front of you. This stupid wall.
You hear an exasperated sigh behind you and felt someone lightly, grab your shoulder, pulling you from behind.
“Excuse me, sir. But you will unhand or you risk losing your… Legolas?”
Turning around, you were shocked by the familiar face of someone you were completely and utterly infatuated with over the past couple of years. Paralyzed and flustered, you couldn’t help but notice how clean and ethereal — you have never seen him this clean before; his muddied boots were somehow clean and the ragged pants you were so used to was exchanged for a less holey look. Somehow these fit even better. You feel your eyes gaze up but froze — you were staring too long.
“Lose my what?” he asked with a little smug grin.
“Nothing! Absolutely nothing. On the contrary, you can keep everything… It was nothing…” you rambled as you quickly turned around.
You hear him step a bit closer, coming behind you on your side to examine the wall you were so desperately climbing less than a second ago.
“What in Arda are you doing here, Y/n?” he said with his curious, blue eyes. Though a few feet away, just his presence causes your mind to go in a scramble.
“Me? What are you doing here?” you exasperated. Fiddling with your hands, you begin pacing back and forth, pretending to examine every bit of the wall, looking anywhere but him.
Look anywhere but his eyes, Y/n. That is how we’ll survive his cursed beauty.
“You are climbing a wall. If anyone should be questioned, it is you,” he bit back.
You quickly move your shoulder to release his grip and turn around.
“First of all, I live here. Second of all, please do mind your business, Legolas. I am quite a bit … oof … I’m quite a bit busy here. and I’m running out of time.”
Stepping towards the wall, you begin to attempt to climb yet again. If anything, it was to break free from his distracting grip on your body. Ignoring the growing warmth on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but notice how large and warm his hand was and how one touch made you feel like hot honey dripping down your body.
Shaking off the startling moment, you were determined to leave. And even he could not stop you.
“What in the world are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing something.”
“I am not”
“Yes… you quite obviously are are.”
“I am n o t.”
“Yes… you are,” he said firmly.
Relenting — you turn back around to face him. Beautiful face and all. You notice how his head is turned slightly down, his eyebrows furrowing just the slightest beginnings of a small smirk staring down at you.
“Fine,” you relented. “If you must know, I am trying to figure out the best way to climb over this disgustingly high wall and escape this dreaded meeting with this so-called ‘prince.’”
“You’re trying to what? With who? Whatever for?”
“Well, the first thing — hmph …” you grunt as you turn back around to attempt to climb for the fifth time in a row. “The first thing is that my dearest father has been parading me around to different suitors, a Lord here, a Duke there — and now, um, it’s apparently another ‘prince’.”
You take a step back because rather than focusing on climbing, you feel a sense of frustration overcome you. The situation of late has finally dug its claws into you... feeling a greater weight on your shoulder than you have originally led yourself to believe. You feel him standing behind you — the burning intensity of his stare on your back.
“No one has spoken of him… no one has spoken of this so-called Prince of Mirkwood?” You continued, “What if he has the personality of a gremlin and the looks of a troll? The Valar knows the little patience I have for men.”
“Gremlins and trolls aside — does what he looks he really matters to you? ” he asked.
“No… Of course not. It’s the not knowing and the fact that I do not know him or his heart that I do not like.
You take a step back to take a look once more at the wall in front of you. Glaring with all of your might, in hopes that your internal rage can burst a whole through these dreaded walls.
“Y/n —you must know... “ Legolas began.
Your eyes run through all the nooks and cranny’s vine-covered stone beast, ignoring Legolas’s words for only a second. There it is. A protruding stone just two feet away from the top. You found one last way you have yet to try.
“Thank the Valar! I think I found a way.”
You walk towards the wall once again, mapping out the new path of vines and protruding stones.
“I think if I can just reach this stone I can lift myself up! If you lift me just a little, I believe I can reach that vine and use these stones to climb up,” you said excitedly.”
“You want me to lift you up… so that you may… escape?”
“Yes, obviously. Did you not hear of threatening the gremlin-troll prince? Please, Legolas.”
“Your father will know that you are missing? The twins have just arrived as well?”
“Those are tomorrow’s problems, Legolas. The prince will be coming today,” you whined.
As you begin your ascent, you feel your foot slipping from the stone. Despite this, you stretched your hand above your head to grab the vine. As you reached, you feel the stone beneath your foot crumble and in a matter of seconds you find yourself falling.
“Lego—”
“Y/n,” he cuts you off. “I have no intention of helping you escape.”
Standing a little too close, you can feel the warmth emanating from his body. As you gaze up to his face, you see he’s wearing an emerald green tunic, soft and silky — something far nicer than the typical garb you always see him in.
“And why not? There is little time to —.”
Your finally glance up to look him in the eyes and —
“You’re wearing a crown,” you blankly stated.
Confused, you oh-so-slowly begin to piece the puzzle together.
“Yes, I am wearing crown,” a small grin appearing on his smugged face.
“Where in the world did you get a crown?”
“It was given to me,” he said as he looked around feigning boredom.
“By who?!” you retort.
“My father.”
“Your father? What does— is he like a king?”
“He is a king,” he said frankly.
“Which makes you a — “ you slowly piece the information together.
“A prince? Yes, a gremlin-troll prince to be exact,” he retorts with now a full grin and staring down at you.
“And you said nothing?” You frantically exclaimed.
“I figured you’d realize at some point,” he chuckled.
You stood there reflecting on all your life decisions at once. Every conversation, every hidden glance. He was a prince.
“I thought it was common knowledge and that you knew of my title,” he said quietly. “I apologize for not disclaiming it sooner.”
“So if what you’re saying is true…” you teased. “You just assume everyone thinks of you as royalty? That’s quite the assumption”
“Y/n, you know I did not mean it like that,” he groaned.
With a little giggle, you stepped away from him and asked “Should I call you, sir?”
“…Y/n, what?”
“Oh my, I’ve never bowed.” Your voice shifts into worry, “Is this grounds for beheading?”
“Y/n, no.”
“I should bow.”
“No— you should not.”
“I’ll bow.”
“Y/n — stop.”
“Please sir, I am merely a lowly peasant. Have mercy, your highness,” you exclaimed as you lower your head and drop into the deepest curtsy.
As he attempts to stop you, he reaches for your arm hoping to put an end to your jester.
As you back away and dodge, you look at him, batting your eyelashes, and cry “My liege, spare me from this punishment I only wish to live.”
Ears turning red with a desperate voice, he begs “Y/n, please.”
As you step back once more, he’s quicker this time and grabs your arm, pulling you close. your chest crushed against his, he drops one of his hands to your waist and the other to your back. You were so close you felt his breath caress your face. As you look up, you find him staring intently at you.
As you stare at each other, you couldn’t help but break into giggles over the preposterous situation. As you begin to giggle, he looks away trying to hold in his laughter, only to also laugh at the situation.
It felt nice — to feel free and silly, if only for a moment.
As both your laughter calms down, he looks back down at you asked, ”So what do you think of the gremlin-troll prince?”
“Nothing too horrid, he’s actually quite dashing,” you teased.
“Dashing, hmm?” he chuckled.
Unaware of everything around you, you were both startled to hear the courtyard doors open with footsteps following. Jumping from each other's arms, you separated a good distance away only for you to see your father and Elrond turn into the corner section you were standing in.
“Oh, good. You’ve met!”
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vilentia · 6 months
Text
Falling Leaves, Rising Love
Legolas x reader
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In the year 3001, under the golden hues of autumn, Rivendell shimmered like a jewel nestled in the heart of the valley. Its beauty was not just in its cascading waterfalls or the ancient, whispering trees, but also in the harmonious blend of nature and Elven architecture. It was here, in this serene abode of Elrond, that your story began.
You had lived in Rivendell for many years, finding solace in its tranquil gardens and the wise company of its inhabitants. Your days were often spent studying ancient texts or wandering the lush paths that wound like silken threads through the valley.
On a day painted with the vibrant colors of fall, Rivendell welcomed a group of Elves from the Woodland Realm. Among them was Legolas, son of Thranduil, whose arrival stirred the quiet air of the haven. You first saw him from a balcony adorned with climbing ivy, overlooking the courtyard where the newcomers were being greeted.
It was a moment suspended in time. Legolas, with his fair hair catching the sunlight and his bright eyes reflecting the clear, blue sky, turned just as you leaned forward, curious about the new arrivals. Your eyes met, and in that instant, something intangible and profound passed between you.
Legolas was struck by your presence, a feeling unfamiliar yet unshakeably deep. He had journeyed through Middle-earth, seen the wonders and horrors it held, but never had he felt such an immediate connection. You, equally taken aback, felt a warmth spread through you, an ember of emotion that you could not yet name.
The days that followed were like a dance, a gentle orbit around each other. You found reasons to be where Legolas was, and he, in turn, sought your company. Conversations flowed easily between you, filled with laughter and shared insights. In the Elven halls, by the murmuring river, or under the vast, starlit sky, your bond deepened.
Legolas was enchanted by your intellect and kindness, the way your laughter seemed to make the world brighter. You were drawn to his bravery and gentle heart, the wisdom that lay behind his youthful eyes. In Rivendell, time seemed to stand still, yet each moment you spent together was a cherished memory in the making.
As autumn waned and the leaves turned from gold to brown, your connection grew into a love that was as deep as the roots of the mountains and as enduring as the stars above. In Rivendell, amidst the timeless beauty of the valley, you and Legolas discovered a love that was as unexpected as it was profound, a love that would endure the passing of ages.
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legolaswhore · 2 years
Text
𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐬..
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𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
→ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: legolas x (fem/elf) reader
→ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, mild smut
→ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mild descriptions of smut! 18+
→ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 931
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Your pov
Clashing metal, singing bows and thudding punches.
You’d been listening to Legolas train for the past few hours, not by choice, no. But because your room was beside his, and the inn that you and the rest of the fellowship had found yourselves in, had tremendously thin walls.
You’d had enough, he was disturbing your peace, and so you thought you’d return the favour. Rising out of the bathwater, you dried off momentarily and wrapped yourself in a long, silken robe.
‘Must he be so loud at this hour?’ you muttered to yourself, before pinning your hair up in a sort of messy up-do and admiring the elleth whom was staring back at you from the mirror. This will distract him.
Rosy cheeked and plump lipped, you smirked to yourself before stepping out of your room and knocking three times on his door.
Legolas’s pov
350, 351, 35-
he stopped. who is knocking at this hour? He pondered, listing off each member of the fellowship in his head, confused. Legolas was a sweaty mess, he had been rehearsing his knife work for the best part of four hours now, jabbing, ducking, stabbing - repeat.
Dressed in only his baggy pale blue undershirt, brown linen trousers and leather bracers, he put one hand on the doorknob, half expecting to open the door to an enemy whom had discovered him and his friends whereabouts.
He opens the door, a small gasp escaping him.
Valar..
She’s breath taking
“something wrong.. princess?” he jested, determined to provoke a reaction from you.
You were in fact a princess, each member of the fellowship knew this, but you never liked to boast and absolutely loathed when anyone referred to you as such.
“Yes. You.” You reply bluntly, narrowing your eyes at his smart mouth.
You watched as his gaze dropped, wandering from your eyes, to your lips, neck, tits, down to your feet.
A blush crept up your cheeks, but you held composure.
“What on earth are you doing in there? I’m sure the orcs in Mordor have heard your racket.” You smirked, noticing his unkempt hair and wet brow.
“whilst you’ve been pampering yourself..”
He paused. Gesturing to your robe and pointing his knife at you
“I’ve been busy training”
A beat
Smirk turning to an arrogant grin, you stole the knife from his hand and pushed past, letting yourself into the room.  Window wide open, various weapons strewn across the floorspace, you turned back and kept eye contact.
“it’s a crime to bathe oneself, your highness?”
That’ll get him back
Legolas watched, noticing your nipples stiffen under the gown due to the cold draft. Raising his eyebrow unamused at your remark, he closed the door behind the both of you and stepped forward.
“Are you quite finished?”
taking another step, he reached out to your hand, a poor attempt to take back his weapon. You step sideways, avoiding his touch, your grin growing wider as you notice annoyance take hold of his face.
This was your relationship, Consent teasing, competition and tension. You were a strong-willed elf maiden, you didn’t take shit from any man, and your temper was quick even at the best of times. The moment you had joined the fellowship on their visit into your home, Lothlorien, Legolas had fallen for you. Neither of you had confessed feelings yet, but you might as well have had it written across your foreheads, the way you’d both seize any opportunity for even the slightest touch of one another, or the ceaseless longing glances. Aside from the mocking, Legolas didn’t like to admit it, but he would do absolutely anything for you. Whether that be warming your blankets by the fire on cold nights, cleaning blood from your face after skirmishes or offering you his last bite of food when you were hungry, he would do it to keep you happy.
Another lunge for his knife. You step to the other side.
The both of you repeating this a number of times, as if some strange dance, Legolas finally gives in, standing back and chuckling to himself.
She’s teasing me
“Too quick for you”
You step towards him, offering his knife out plainly now, waiting until he once again, tries to collect it, before you let it drop it to the floor with a clunk.
Another beat
“Oops..”  you whisper, never breaking eye contact.
Desire takes over.
Grasping his hand, you bring it against your waist, your heartbeat quickening as you start untying your robe in front of him. Frozen, he lets you control his touch, eyes dropping to your hands which are fiddling with the silk fabric.
“y/n..”
Robe sliding off, Legolas’s other hand finds your exposed breast, flicking his thumb across your nipple and watching as it grows firmer still.
You reach up to let your hair down, proudly exposing your slender figure to the prince, whilst thick loose waves cascade down your back and reach just above your rear. His touch draws out a soft moan, your eyes dropping down to his very evident erection which had tented his trousers.
“Legolas..”
Breathing hitching, he leans down, taking his hand from your breast to grip your neck and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip, pushing it into your mouth.
You accept, kissing him hungrily, something you’ve wanted to do since getting to know the Ellon. The kiss deepens with urgency, Legolas biting at your bottom lip followed by consistent strokes of his tongue, kissing you and kissing you, sending you to oblivion.
He’s relentless
It’s bliss
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
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harrysweasleys · 1 year
Note
For the blurb writings, what about 9. “i’m just glad you’re safe.” + Legolas? 💜
omg the CUTEST THING YESSSS i need legolas love rn
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you’re safe
You knew he was worried. From the moment the battle had begun and he wore that little crease between his eyebrows to the moment you had claimed victory of Helm’s Deep, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Of whether you were okay, of where you were. The battle was so messy, chaotic, it was easy to lose track of just about anyone.
Which really proved a point about how incredible of a fighter he was. If he could survive the whole battle practically unscathed, sliding down a staircase on a shield and taking down orc after orc while still thinking of and keeping an eye out for you, that damn elf was the best multitasker Middle Earth had ever seen.
“You’re cut,” his soft fingers — the same ones that had been gripping a bow or dagger the whole night — grazed your cheek in a gentle caress, stopping ever so closely to the cut on your cheekbone. Which wasn’t even caused by a blade, honestly; it was from being knocked to the ground during the explosion.
The skin was red and irritated, but not badly wounded. The cut wasn’t deep, much to Legolas’ relief. And it wasn’t caused by a poisoned blade either — the skin wasn’t discoloured or infected.
Just a small cut.
“I’m alright, my love,” your own hand came up to reach his, interlacing your calloused fingers with his. How his skin was still unblemished and smooth after thousands of years of archery, you couldn’t understand. But you adored them. His soft touches, the way his hands would always wander up your corset or fighting leathers to rub gentle circles on your lower back. His touch soothes all worries you might ever have.
He nodded at your words, still not seeming totally convinced, “I know. I know,” he leaned closer and brought your joined hands to his chest, “I just… I’m just glad you’re safe. I know you’re more than capable. It’s that… I just find myself feeling worried quite often when we’re in these circumstances.”
You stood off of the healing table, stepping closer to him and looking him dead in the eye, “That’s love. It’ll do that to you. Make you worry, I mean.” You let out a small chuckle and he did the same, “I’m glad that you’re safe. We’re both okay. We’re together.”
A tiny dimple appeared on his cheek as he broke into a small grin, his gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, “We’re together.”
And really, that was all that mattered.
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whateverrr-duddee · 2 years
Text
𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐥𝐝-𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲
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pairing: legolas x reader
warnings: fluff! mentions of Frodo
summary: During the rest in rohan. Legolas becomes extremely clingy. And your determined to find out why!
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“To Frodo and Sam” all cheersed and drank the ale. Being elves it didn’t affect you and Legolas as easily. You were currently sat with Aragorn and Eomer. “Are you excited to see Arwen?” you asked Aragorn he gave you a small smile “Yes, but i fear she made the wrong decision” he sighed. You looked up at him and grabbed his face “she made the decision that was right for her dont you ever forget that” he smiled as you spoke the reassuring words.
Suddenly, a pair of hands come on to your shoulders as the owner makes their way around the sofa to sit next to you. “Hello, nin mel” Legolas greeted you as he gave you a kiss on the forehead “Lass”Aragorn chuckled “i see you out drank gimli” Legolas softly chucked “it was indeed game over. although i did feel a slight tingle in my fingers at one point” Legolas’ soft voice carried amusement. “What’s in like your home countries?” Eomer asked whilst aragorn was explaining you felt legolas’ hands tighten on your waist drawing patterns. “ cin okaui nin mel?” you whispered because you knew his pride wouldn’t let him admit if he wasn’t.
He hummed and buried his face in your neck. You looked over to Aragorn mouthing “what’s wrong with him? he’s never this clingy?” he mouthed back “i have no idea, let me try something” Aragorn sat up and you began stroking legolas back out of instinct. “I don’t know what your going to do when we return Legolas” Aragorn sighed. Legolas merely replied with a muffled “What do you mean?” from your neck. “Well Y/N is the one of the most desirable girls in all of middle earth a lot of men and elves will want her” Legolas suddenly shot out of his little corner in your neck and faced Aragorn. “i have a plan” Legolas said with a emotionless face as per usual. “She is a very beautiful girl, The men here are tripping over their own feet after her” Eomer chipped in “And i will kill anyone who puts their hands on her” You Rolled your eyes at Legolas’ dramatic behaviour you grabbed his wrist “We are going to go to bed so Mr Gandalf the grey jr can get his beauty sleep” You mutters to Aragorn who laughed “Go night mellon”
“What’s wrong Legolas?” you asked as you go to your room in the castle. “nothing” Legolas lightly sighed walking over to you and kissing your forehead lightly. He led you over to the bed you expected him to spoon you. but the words that came out of his mouth made your heart ache for him. “can you hold me?” you knew Legolas was touch starved a lot. At the beginning of your relationship he was so cautious of touching you and was very worried when you hugged him for the first time.You didn’t say anything you just opened your arms up for him to lie on top of you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head into your stomach. you played with his hair adding a few braids and twists into it before you broke the silence. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?” you softly spoke he propped his head up in your stomach and took a deep breathe “i fear i’m going to loose you” he said it was almost a whisper if not for your elf hearing you wouldn’t have heard it. you traced your fingertips over thr tips of his ears sending a shiver down his body “you never have to worry about that” you smiled shyly at him “and why is that?“ he asked still unconvinced “because i’m incredibly and eternally in love with you Legolas Thanduillion” he smiled and tackled you on the bed….
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wild-lavender-rose · 2 years
Text
A Moonlit Dance
Pairing: Legolas x reader
Category: One-shot
Summary: Legolas steals you from your begetting day celebration to share a moment in the moonlit gardens. 
Warning: Suggestive mature themes
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     “Come with me,” 
     You looked away from the couple you were speaking to as Legolas took your hand, giving an apologetic smile before allowing him to pull you away. “What’s wrong?” 
     “Midnight draws near,” Legolas’s long fingers intertwined with your. “Your day of celebration is nearly over.” 
     “And this is cause for you to capture me?” Your gaze connected with Thranduil seated at the head of the banquet table with a gold goblet in one hand. Expecting an expression of confusion, you were surprised when he gave a soft smile and nodded his approval. 
     “What have you planned, Legolas?” You gave him a look. 
     “This is a spur of the moment capture, I assure you.” Legolas led you through the crowds of dancers and music to the edge of the ballroom, then beyond that onto the balcony where the night air fanned over your face. He didn’t stop there, guiding you down the stone steps into the gardens bathed in pure moonlight. 
     You hadn’t realized how warm it had become within the ballroom until you were outside. You closed your eyes and breathed in the cool, seductive scent of a moonlit garden. The music from the ballroom washed over the scene before you, harmonizing with the breeze in the background. You looked at Legolas, at the prince who had stolen your heart as easily as he stole you from your begetting celebration. He was staring back, the passion in his blue eyes causing your insides to flutter and tingle. 
     “My darling,” Legolas took your hand and pressed a kiss to your fingers. “I feel that your celebration would not be complete if you did not dance with your beloved.” 
     Your breath caught as he leaned forward and kissed you, a hand sliding around your waist as he began to sway in time with the music. You found his hand and clasped it, falling into a rhythm as natural as breathing. You had met at a celebration such as this. You had fallen in love the moment Legolas asked you to dance with him. He had never stopped asking you since. 
     The kiss broke and you laughed as Legolas twirled you about, hand grasping his shoulder as you all but fell into his arms. “Legolas,” you began, but he shushed you with another kiss. 
     “I love you, starlight.” He whispered, moving down to kiss your neck, your collarbone and much lower, grasping your back as you gasped against the sudden intensity of his touch. 
     “If we were to be caught-”
     “I ordered the guards to prevent others from entering the gardens.” Legolas’s hands moved to grip your hips as he straightened to look at you. “I must have you.” 
     Your heart stuttered, as if you had never been claimed by him before. Legolas always made you feel as though you were the innocent bride of so many years before, making love to him with the same shock and excitement of your wedding night. 
     “Take me.” You breathed. “Who am I to refuse the future king of Mirkwood?” 
     Your permission was all Legolas needed, fingers sliding through your hair as he consumed you with a kiss that caused your legs to give way and you to fall against him. The two of you disappeared among the moonlit flowers and vines of the garden, where Legolas ensured that this begetting day celebration was the most pleasurable of them all. 
Fanfic Masterlist
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lavender-at-heart · 2 years
Note
Hey! So i saw your "Dating Legolas would include" with a human. Do you think you could do it but with an elf? Sorry if your requests are closed.
Thanks, bye bye!😊
Legolas dating a elf hc's:
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Pairing: Legolas x fem!reader
Warnings: mentions of death, heartbreak, having children lol
words: 1.5k
Notes: tysm for the request! i didnt know if you wanted fem or gn reader so i went with fem but i can make a gn!reader one too. also im so sorry i didnt get the notification for the ask so i didnt see it until very recently<3 my requests are open and id love to recieve more! also theres a part that mention kids and if your someone that doesnt want kids or doesnt like them then you can go right ahead and pretend it doesnt exist. And remember to eat , drink water and get some good rest today, you deserve it(and shannah tovah to any jewish ppl out there:])<3
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being a elf and dating Leggo boy definitely has its perks
for one : his dad might approve of you
and secondly you never have to have the mortal and immortal talk, so yay!
growing up as the daughter of lord elrond meant you knew who Legolas was since you were born(if you dont look like Elrond's family just pretend ur adopted woop :] ).
you and every eleth in middle earth fawned over him
when you were younger you day dreamed of being a princess locked in a tower, one day he'll come and rescue you and take you away from the seemingly measly life you lived
he paid visits to Rivendell quite often , enjoying the company of you and your siblings
you had grown up with him around, always willing to teach you the art of archery or how to fend off any scary looking spiders.
but after the battle of the five armies he stopped fisiting Rivendell, something about finding the Dunedain rangers.
you grew up, and you missed him yes- but you convinced yourself that he was just a family friend- no one special.
boy you were wrong because then you meet him again when the council of Elrond happens and its like a freight train of emotions hit you in the heart
elves only fall in love once- its a very serious and dramatic ordeal, and you knew this was it.
you also knew that you could possibly die of heartbreak if he didnt return your feelings.
you assumed he saw you as a little sister, or had completely forgotten about you.
but then both of you had a talk in Rivendell, the night before you planed to head off.
he explained that he had fallen in love with you, he had always loved you but when he saw you again he knew it was romantic.
but he knew that the chances of either of you dying on this journey were very real and very possible
and although it would be very hard for the both of you, you decided to stay friends until the fight was over. it would save you a lot of pain and suffer if one of you did die though
but even just being really really friendly was not helping either, you still had a very strong connection.
he'll always make sure you keep up your health when on the road
"the key to staying healthy is to drink lots of water dear one"
"surely thats not enough food for you mellon"
always covering for you when its your turn to keep watch so you can get better sleep
and that all seems like very normal friend stuff but then...
the hair braiding
he will insist to braid your hair so you dont have to waist time doing it
he'll learn how you do your style and might even try some new designs he think would look pretty on you
you dont even know what to say, because elvish hair braiding is a sacred thing, usually you only braid the hair of your significant other or family members.
but legolas can be a bit dense at times, maybe he doesnt realize hes making this harder than it needs to be
you two always end up together , walking, rowing, wherever you are you two usually stray from the fellowship to have some alone time
you often find it hard to relate to the rest of the fellowship, being so diferent from them
but Legolas was the same as you, sometimes you feel like your the same person. so connected to eachother , finding such a peacful familiarity when your with him
gandalf thinks your friendship is absolute bs and he sees right through the both of you, hes practically your matchmaker always trying to get you together.
when you reach Lothlorian your grandmother, Galadriel knocks some sense into you
she tells you that your future will be bright and full of happiness if you can just get over your stupid friend-zone rule, but she does agree that the futre is uncertain and that you would probably die if he gets killed and vice versa.
the battles are rough but you never falter, you and leggy enjoy showing off your elven strength and beauty to the humans
you get hit on about a million times in Rohan and you can see its driving the elven prince bonkers.
if Legolas is ever injured which rarely ever happens, you are there to tend to the wounds
if he is restless you'll read or sing some elvish hymns for him to fall asleep to.
there's is nothing that can dampen your spirits when the two of you are together, even without the romantic side your happy just to be near him as often as you are.
you spend you wandering days discussing elven philosophers, teaching gimli elvish or connecting to the forests together.
when the final battle comes, you are plauged with fear
you pray and pray and pray that both of you stay safe.
legolas is the best warrior in middle earth , but you were not.
not to say you werent a skilled warrior, you were better than any man, hobbit or dwarf- but you were not Legolas.
what if something were to happen and he was left alone?
well you didnt have much time to dwell on that fact because you had won the battle and both of you must imidiatley return home to your fathers.
it wasnt fair, you were finally able to be together but noooooooooooo you just had to be separated until Aragorns corination
when you got home your father knew about you and Legolas, he said he had already had a vision of of your future together and he gave you his blessing
Arwen and your brothers were very very happy for you. arwen told you about her own romantic struggles and you bonded over the fact that you had been separated by your loves.
arwen said that the four of you should get married together, while unorthodox it sounds very exiting
you spend the few months at home planing to see Legolas again, weaving a new dress to impress him, finding a new hair braiding technique, picking apart yourself and making sure your perfect for your reunion.
you and Arwen are so nervous at Aragorns corination you can barley stand.
seeing Aragorn and your sister ruinite made you almost as happy as reuniting with Legolas
you cried, you hugged, you kissed
you met his dad and that was a traumatic experience in itself
but he seemed to like you, he respected your father and therefore he must respect you. Even though he thinks Elrond is senile.
getting married in Lothlorien, surrounded by the beautiful lights and trees, married by your grandmother and officially named the princess of Eryn Lasgalen.
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you leave your family with sadness but your beyond exited to see the greenwood
Legolas' kingdom welcomes you as one of their own and they are thrilled about having a princess
you spend a lot of time with Legolas but you also make sure to get to know your new home and its peoples
Legolas took you on a grand tour of the palace and the woods
you were amazed by the grand architecture, thinking you could spend eternity in Eryn Lasgalen, and you would.
you read up on the history of the Greenwood, learning about their customs and traditions.
you also make sure to visit the smaller less grand part of the kingdoms, visiting schools and hospitals.
to say Legolas is proud of you is an understatement
Legolas has to go to a lot of meetings and is busy a lot of the time, he feels so bad and the apologies never stop
but no matter how long he is gone he always makes it up to you
hell take you horseback riding and pack a picnic lunch to make it up to you
his father is honestly surprised at how in love the two of you are, you have been married for decades and still act as though you are in your honeymoon phase
when the two of you have your first child, a boy named Oropher[named after legolas' grandfather], Thranduil cant help but get reminded of him and his wife[and baby leggo too ofc]
Thanduil enjoys your conversations, thinking of you as a daughter he never had, and a good friend
he also lets you in on all the embarrassing baby Legolas stories he never got to tell anyone.
you end up having 5 children in all your years, three girls and two boys
some take after you more, others Legolas
you make excellent parents, teaching them the arts, sciences and ways of battle.
Legolas spends time with his children as often as he possibly can and is an amazing father
you love your life in the greenwood, its your home
but eventually the time of the elves is over and you and your family sail for Valinor, to be together forever<3
260 notes · View notes
make-me-imagine · 2 years
Text
Altered Perception
Trope: Forced alliance leads to friendship (and then more); a.k.a Enemies to Lovers
Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x GN!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of violence/fighting.
Words: 1.6k
A/N's: Rhovanion is the area of Middle-Earth where Mirkwood resides. This is mostly in flashback thought style, and there isn't very much dialogue until the end.
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Things were so different now, thinking back on it. On how your journey started. How different your feelings were now, you felt like an entirely different person.
It had been ingrained in you, how selfish and pious the Woodland King and his son were. Years of bias and hate forced onto you from a young age. And you fell for it. Just as the young Prince had done.
He was told you were just as arrogant and self-centered as your parents. A child with no skill or intelligence outside of riches and war.
When you met that day, at the council, one from each family gathered. Including the woodland prince. When you learned who each other were, you barely looked at one another, though, stole a glance every now and then.
You weren't sure what came over you, to join the company of the Hobbit to destroy the ring, but you knew it was more important than anything else. Even if you had to join with a decided enemy of your family.
The beginning of your journey was a mess of subtle insults, jabs and silence. Between you, the woodland prince, and the dwarf, tension was high. But you befriended the rest easily and quickly, expecting nothing to come of your time with the prince except a growing hatred.
But sure enough, you found that you could pick apart your families biased opinions fairly quickly. He was not selfish, not pious. At times he was arrogant, but never more than you. Silently you altered your opinion of him, wondering how your parents got it so wrong.
Legolas, on his own, was doing the same. You were not self-centered, nor nearly as half-witted as he had been made to believe. You were intelligent, clever, and skilled.
Slowly, your conversations involved more discussion than insult, questions before assumptions, and even shared stories of your youth. Slowly, the bias faded, and you no longer saw the Prince as anything other than Legolas, a loyal companion, just as you saw Gimli.
You decided that when you returned from your journey, you would not hide the truth from your parents. You would right their wrong opinions, and no longer share their hate. Because soon enough, Legolas was your friend. And even sooner than you were expecting, he felt like something more.
As you fought side by side in ever battle that came your way, you found yourself trusting him more and more. Never afraid to turn your back on him, never afraid to turn away from an enemy. Because he was always there to cover you, to help you, just as you were for him.
You both took blows meant for the other, both warned each other of oncoming danger. You became a team, and formed a bond before you knew it was ever there.
And at times of peace, when your journey was nothing but walking, traveling, sitting, resting, you found yourself watching him. Admiring his hair, his eyes, his voice. Smiling at his stories and jokes. Wanting him to tell you more about the forest of Mirkwood you were never allowed to see.
And Legolas, found himself always watching you. When you would run up a hill to check the view. Watch a bird fly over head. Talk to Gandalf about something in soft voices. He always wanted to know what you were thinking, what you were seeing. What did you see when you looked at him? What did you think of him, truly?
His eyes always sought you out first, he always made sure he knew where you were. That you were still there. And when your eyes met at the same time, they lingered, in a silent language you both seemed to understand, Words that remained unspoken, un-whispered, to either of you. He wondered what would happen when this journey was over. If both of you made it out alive, what would happen then? Would he ever see you again? Of course he would, he would make sure of it. In the days leading up to the final battle, he kept thinking what he would do.
And suddenly, before any of you knew it, the final battle was among you. You faced your enemy at their door, ready to fight to the death if need be.
During much of the battle, neither you or Legolas were far out of sight. But somewhere along the way, you looked around him, and saw him nowhere. You felt a rush of panic flow through you as you looked around, your eyes darting to every body on the grass, to every moving figure.
As more enemies charged forward, you knew you had to keep fighting. If Legolas was out there, he was alive, and you would see him again, at the end of all of this. And maybe then you would not be so afraid of your feelings.
Legolas felt his strength faltering as the battle raged on. And his fears where heavy on his mind ever since you vanished from his sight. He spotted Aragorn, and even Gimli amongst the battle, but you he did not see. His heart ached at the idea of losing you, of failing to see you fall. Guilt rampaged through him as the horrible though of failing to save you crossed his mind.
But suddenly, a face came into view. A figure swinging wildly at the orcs, taking them down. Your familiar eyes met his and he felt a heavy weight lift off of him.
Relief washed over you at the sight of his familiar face. Eyes locked, emotion and relief present, you continued to fight the enemies around you, while gradually getting closer to each other.
Slicing down one enemy, another appeared, but he was sliced down in front of you, revealing Legolas right beside you. Your eyes locked again, a silent greeting, lips quirking up in a relieved smile. As you continued your battle, you felt more courage than before, knowing you were side by side once again. Your past enemy, now your greatest ally.
But quickly, things changed. You were outnumbered, surrounded. You watched in horror as Aragorn fell, the giant standing over him. Legolas began to fight his war towards him as you sliced through enemies trying to help.
Suddenly a loud roar echoed through the sky. Your eyes shot up, spotting the Eye of Sauron glowing brighter, shaking violently. A chill seemed to run through the swarm of orcs. You watched in awe as the foundation of Saurons tower began to crack and crumble. As the tower fell, so did Saurons forces. Fleeing from the fight, leaving you all left, watching.
Relief washed over you as you understood. Frodo and Sam had made it. The ring was destroyed. But soon, the mountain was too. You watched, tears filling your eyes, falling in step beside Legolas, as you watched the mountain erupt.
Reaching out, you took Legolas's hand, his gripped yours tightly in return. It couldn't end like this. You had to hope beyond hope that they somehow made it out, made it to a safe distance.
You waited impatiently as time seemed to move so slowly. The battle was over, you would not know if Frodo or Sam made it out until Gandalf returned.
Your only comfort was riding alongside you, as you trekked back to safety. Everyone was quiet. A mixture of joy and sorrow sat over the company. You and Legolas shared glances every now and then, wondering silently what would happen next.
You would not have the chance to fully discus it until you made it back to Rivendell. Frodo and Sam were safe and healing. The company resting after their long ordeal.
You looked out at the mountains as Legolas sat beside you, leg pressed against yours. You weren't sure when you stopped staying at a distance from one another, and instead always seemed to be so close. As if you had slowly been puled together over time.
"What now?" You finally asked, breaking the silence.
Legolas looked over at you, studying your profile until you looked over at him. He shook his head softly. "I'm not sure."
You nodded, looking back out at the view. "I thought after so long I would be ready to go home, but...I'm not."
"Me either." Legolas admitted.
"But I'm not sure where to go." You added on.
Legolas felt his chest tighten as he looked back over at you. His heart was beating heavily in his chest. Taking a breath he spoke softly, but with certainty. "You can come with me."
You looked back at him, finding his gaze intently meeting yours. "Where?" You asked softly.
He smiled and he shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know. Anywhere. Everywhere. We can explore the places we have never seen. I can show you Rhovanion."
You felt a smile spread across your face, as sense of excitement washed over you. "It's a long journey back, are you sure your not tired of my company yet?" You asked with a joking tone.
You saw for a single moment, his eyes flick to your lips before he met our eyes again. His own smile grew. "Not yet."
You felt your neck grow hot as you stared at each other. You nodded softly. "Alright. I think I could do with another adventure."
Legolas smiled, reaching over, he placed his hand on top of yours. "A much easier one this time."
You let out a soft laugh as you looked down at his hand on yours. Turning your and over, you laced your fingers through his. Meeting his eyes, you smiled at each other, excited and ready for whatever came next.
xx End xx
Not sure how I feel about this, but I hope you enjoyed!
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo
Lotr/Legolas Taglists: @ta-ka-shi-ma, @whimsical-daydreams
363 notes · View notes
entishramblings · 11 months
Text
The Innocence of Brutality Pt. 7 [Legolas/F!Reader]
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PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6
A.N: hey my preciouses. so im back from my hiatus with some pain and suffering for you all. this part was very hard to write as this story is a 10th walker. lol i struggle to follow an already created plot and not get bored writing—and that’s why I gotta add some twists and funky ass kicking Rámaitë Mahtar lore heh. anywaysss...enjoy!
Request: none
Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader
Summary: The Reader is Rámaitë Mahtar, a warrior spirit race, and she meets the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring.  
Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the Rámaitë Mahtar is not canon as I made up Rámaitë Mahtar. Also, all elvish was translated from a translator site—it may not be accurate.
Word Count: 6.5k (i know I'm sorry i am a menace) 
Warnings: nudity (not sex), mentions of war, mentions of torture, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, beard abuse (sorry gimli)
MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD | The Innocence of Brutality Masterlist | HERE for OC format
The fellowship and the Rámaite Mahtar spent hours upon hours enduring the biting lash of the snow's frigid touch and the piercing wail of the wind. The Pass of Caradhras fought against them, hard and strong. Relentless it was; as if the mountain itself was pained by their footsteps, doing all it could to shake them off and consign them to a frozen grave. Though they soon discovered that the mountain was not alone in pursuing their downfall.
Legolas frowned, squinting past the snowflakes that landed upon his lashes. It was hard to focus on anything but navigating through the blowing blizzard, for if he wavered his calculations, he and the fellowship would surely fall to their deaths. Yet still, something tugged at his mind, begging him to recognize its warning. The elf, determined to unravel what it was, let his senses settle into the air around him, absorbing all he could. That is when he heard it—a resonant voice murmuring curses into the wintry air.
The elven prince spun on his heel—so fast that he startled the dwarf behind him. Now facing the rest of his company, he cried out his cautionary statement. “Someone is aiding the storm. There is a fell voice upon the air.”
Gandalf met his eye, and only one word passed the wizard’s slips. “Saruman.”
(Y/N) turned to Legolas. Over the wind, she yelled her question to him. “Who is this man of saru?”
However, before any method of how he could even begin to articulate such a person even entered his mind, Aragorn and Boromir tones sprung into the air. Their voices grew insistent, advocating to return the way they came, only for Gandalf to fiercely argue against it.
“Legolas,” (Y/N) addressed again, not paying mind to the serious conversation behind her. “Who is this man of saru?”
“(Y/N),” he started. However, he was interrupted by a deep murmur that reverberated through the mountain’s core. That was the only warning the fellowship received. Seconds later, heavy clumps of snow came thundering down from the slopes above them. Legolas’ unfinished words were swept away by the mountain's rampage, lost amidst the chaotic dance of falling powder.
“Get back!” was briefly heard as Aragorn pressed his body against the side of the mountain. He attempted to take Frodo and Sam with him through a failed outreached hand grasping upon nothingness. 
The Rámaite Mahtar’s eyes followed the motion, her instincts kicking in. 
Her wings snapped open, tearing through the fabric and leather armor that clothed her. They extended outwards, providing a canopy over the four hobbits, just as the avalanche was to bury them. 
(Y/N) grit her teeth, her form shaking slightly as the pressure hit. 
Silent the hobbits were, no sound leaving their normally chatty lips, as the onslaught of snow railed upon (Y/N). Only awe was present upon their expressions as those four pairs of big, worried eyes looked up at her stern face. 
The Rámaite Mahtar, however, took no notice to their concern. She held steady until no further weight was forced upon her wings.
Slowly, she lifted her head up—proud and strong—and her wings following suit. She shook them off. The snow she had caught tumbled from her feathery masses. It skipped off the edge of the mountain, leaving its longtime home.
Legolas emerged from beneath the snow rather quickly. A single glimpse of (Y/N)'s outstretched wings and the visible hobbits revealed to him what she had done. Knowing they were out of harm's way, he wasted no time in digging through the snow to unearth his other companions.
As the first hand broke the surface, Legolas seized hold of it and yanked. Spluttering, up came Aragorn. The two didn't need to speak to know what else needed to be done. They instantly began to sweep away the glistening snowflakes that continued to conceal their comrades. They hoped to retrieve them—one by one—from their frozen confinement. 
(Y/N), seemingly deeming the two men competent enough to handle the task, moved closer to the hobbits. She patted Frodo’s head as she looked between the four of them. “Safe, safe, yes?” 
Their responses consisted of small nods and drifting gazes, their minds still in shock.
Boromir and Gandalf soon emerged, though one member of their company was still not yet found.
“Gimli! Where is Gimli?” Legolas called out desperately.
(Y/N) furrowed her brows as her gaze scanned the snowy landscape. Meanwhile, the rest of the fellowship frantically dug, their efforts driven by urgency. (Y/N) took a few steps forward, her expression determined.
Suddenly, she began stomping in various spots on the fluffy snow bed.
Her companions, including Legolas, exchanged puzzled glances, unable to comprehend her actions. However, their confusion quickly dissipated when a muffled war cry echoed from beneath her feet. Without hesitation, (Y/N) plunged her hand deep into the snow and pulled hard. Emerging from the white depths, beard first, came Gimli, hollering and gasping for air.
Sighs of relief exited many lips before the arguing between the navigators started once again. 
(Y/N) looked between them, watching, observing, trying and failing to understand the gravity of the situation. Though it seemed it wasn't really up to her to have to understand. The decision got passed down to Frodo and the small hobbit picked their dwarven friend’s option: The Mines of Moria. 
Therefore, they wearily trudged down the mountain, their souls burdened and their bodies fatigued. (Y/N)'s wings guarded the hobbits, shielding them from the biting winds until they finally arrived before the sealed doors of the dwarven kingdom. And there they remained, seated in patient anticipation—for hours on end.
In the stillness, only the soft murmurs of Gandalf's whispered words and hushed conversations drifted among the fellowship, creating an atmosphere of quiet suspense. 
Legolas perched beside Y/N, holding her leather armor layer in one hand and a sharp knife in the other. He was carefully carving the ripped section into a smoother line, ensuring easy exposure of her wings. Given their current lifestyle, he presumed it was crucial for her to retract and unveil her deadliest weapon effortlessly. Besides, they lacked the time and resources to stop in a town again, and even if they did, they wouldn't find suitable clothing to accommodate her unique form. The Rámaite Mahtar were not supposed to exist—not in this world at this time. She was an exception. She was a phenomenon. She was a secret—one that could get them all killed. 
“Legolas,” (Y/N) stated. “Who is this man of saru?”
The elf briefly glanced up at her as he continued to work. This was the third time he was asked this question by her, and he knew she would ask it again if it was left unanswered. She was persistent like that. He cleared his throat. “Do you remember how we told you that there were some who intended to harm us and the people of this world?”
She nodded.
“Well,” he continued. “Saruman is one of them. He is aiding and orchestrating armies for Sauron.”
“Sauron?” (Y/N) questioned.
Legolas sighed, placing the leather down as he focused on (Y/N). He knew he would have to give her all his attention for this conversation. It wasn't one that you could have so casually. “Sauron is consumed by an insatiable thirst for power. He wants to enslave its people, create an empire of pain and suffering, and burn it down to ash and bone.” 
“Why?” she asked, so innocently. 
 “(Y/N),” he stated softly, gazing into those goddamn brilliant, concerned, (e/c) eyes of hers. “Sauron…Sauron was a servant of Morgoth.”
The Rámaite Mahtar's lips parted, releasing a hushed gasp that was woven with fear and disbelief. 
Legolas watched as these emotions shattered her soul and wreaked havoc in her heart. Her brows furrowed, her lips contorted, her gaze wandered, and her eyelids fluttered. Processing. That is what she was doing—absorbing the shock and dissecting its meaning. 
“(Y/N),” he whispered, reaching for her hand. “(Y/N), Morgoth will not come here. He cannot come to this plane. The Valar would never permit it.”
She shook her head, pulling away from him. “Yes, he would. For me, he would. For me, they would let him.”
“(Y/N),” he said again, desperately.
She stood, shaking her head, her voice rising slightly. “You do not understand!!!”
Legolas, sensing her distress escalating, abandoned his seat and moved to stand with her. Gently, he took both her hands in his own. “(Y/N), help me understand.” He peered down into her wild eyes, searching for an answer. “Please, help me understand. I am here. I am listening.”
She glanced down at the ground below her feet, taking in a deep breath as she tried to gather herself—to regulate her emotions, Legolas perceived.
After a moment, she looked back to him. Her voice was quiet as she spoke. “I—I did things. B–before. When I was here long ago.”
The Prince nodded his head in encouragement. 
She shut her eyes and withdrew her hands from his hold, letting her arms wrap around herself in what appeared to be a self-soothing state. “T–terrible things.” (Y/N) focused her gaze back onto Legolas. “They–they wanted it empty of some of the stuff they put in it.”
“What do you mean?” he inquired softly, his confusion deepening. “What did they want empty?”
(Y/N) frowned, her expression twitching as she tried to pick out the correct word to use. “The–the world.” She paused, just for a moment. “So, we emptied it. But–but we did not understand. I did not understand. There were peoples there.” As her words flowed on, she delicately extended her hand and brushed her fingertips against his ear. He fought the urge to flinch at the contact, but he did not stop her. Knowing how sincere and vulnerable she was in that moment, he wanted her to continue her truth. He didn't desire to give her any reason at all to halt her words. “Peoples like—like you, but not like you. Different.” She furthered, her hand then slid along the curve of his elvish ear until it was nothing but a ghost. (Y/N) looked down once again. “They screamed and cried, but we did not know, so we did not stop.”
“(Y/N),” he whispered, cupping her cheek and forcing her to look at him. “It was not your fault. The Valar did not teach you. They did not teach you of right and wrong.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, a tear escaping them. “It was my fault. I was the leader.”
Legolas’ thumb gently wiped away the water that ran down her cheek. “But you did not know, my starlight. You did not know.”
A quiet sob escaped her chest as she tried to look away from him. Though he would not let her. He would not let her suffer this guilt alone. Legolas pulled her form into his own. He enveloped her in his embrace, encircling his arm around her waist, while his other hand cradled the back of her head.
Instantly, she responded to this affection. Her hands—those small, deadly hands that had annihilated so many people—grasped onto his tunic, yanking at the threads. The ethereal glow of her wings enveloped him as well, as if just her arms were not enough to hug him back. And the pressure of her body against his was firm, almost urging him to anchor himself in case he lost balance. In that moment, with her face nestled against his chest, she sought solace and refuge in his embrace.
Softly, he pressed a kiss to her head as his hand moved in slow, soothing circles on her back.
Legolas knew the rest of the fellowship was trying, and failing, not to stare, but he did not care. This—this was important. This realization. This moment. This needed to happen. It represented her growth in the most pure and genuine way. 
The embrace, however, was disturbed by the sound of a gentle plop that resonated in the air like a soft melody—though one very much out of place. One after another, the droplets of sound caressed their ears, intruding upon the intimate moment they shared. However, Aragorn’s chidding tone unintentionally attempted to give it back to them as he ordered Merry and Pippin to halt their actions.
Still, (Y/N) turned to look at the rippling of the water, watching as it moved with little rifts and smooth slides. The Rámaite Mahtar tilted her head, ignoring Frodo’s voice pipping up with a question regarding the door’s riddle. It wasn't directed at her anyways. She took a step closer to the water, and another, and another—until the sound of loud stone shifting claimed her and her companion’s attention.
The group gathered their belongings, (Y/N) folding in her wings and pulling the altered leather armor upon her form, before they flowed through the now opened doors. As they listened to Gimli rave of his cousins’ hospitality, they filed in. However, hospitality did not greet them. Nothing did. There were no torches. There were no cheers. There were no dwarven faces. Simply put: not a trace of life offered them a welcome and naught but dread stirred in their presence. As darkness wrapped around them, Gandalf lit his staff. That glow began to reflect light, allowing the fellowship to bear witness to the truth.
“This–this is no mine.” Boromir began, horror upon his tone. “It’s a tomb!”
Immediately, Gimli’s loud cries of despair echoed throughout the vast walls and the hobbits’ heavy breathing followed. 
“We should never have come here. We must make for the Gap of Rohan!” Boromir exclaimed. 
Rash shuffling from each member of the group followed as they began scrambling from the hallway of bones. Those bones, however, were immediately replaced by a new threat—one of tentacles and slime.
Before they even could escape the tomb, Frodo was clawing at the ground, his anguished cries for help piercing the air. The other hobbits urgently grasped his arms, straining with all their might to free him from the vile creature coiling around his legs. Yet his friends were only so strong. The creature drug the poor hobbit to the lake, flinging him through the air like a mere plaything. 
Instantly, the fellowship, with weapons raised, were scrambling after him.
Though, the one that was the fastest was (Y/N). Her wings extended from her form, not breaking the newly crafted adjustments to her leather. With one strong push, she was in the air and weaving through the tentacles. 
“By the Valar,” Aragorn whispered.
At his tone, Legolas’ gaze flickered from his aimed arrow and to his friend’s line of sight above the beast of the lake. Immediately, the elf’s lips parted in astonishment. Even after the months that they had known the Rámaite Mahtar, they had yet to see her fly. They had seen those beautiful wings act as blades, blankets, and canopies, but they hadn't seen them act for their intended purpose. They hadn't seen them serve as instruments of the wind. Legolas could not help but let his bow falter as he stared. 
“She’s….she’s beautiful,” Legolas whispered. 
Aragorn, his own shock subsiding, grabbed the elf’s arm and hissed a panicked order at him. “Legolas, cast aside your admiration and put an end to that vile beast!”
“Right, right,” he mumbled, drawing his arrow once again.
Aragorn ran into the water, slicing at the tentacles in desperate hope to free Frodo—and prevent his own capture. 
(Y/N) maintained a relentless attack from above, using her wings as weapons to sever the slimy limbs impeding her path towards Frodo. With remarkable speed and precision, each stroke of her wings propelled her closer to the young hobbit, the distance shrinking inch by inch. However, just as she was closing in, the beast sent two tentacles her way. She spun quickly, her wings slicing them both, but it was the third to the back that she did not anticipate. It smacked against her shoulder blades, hard. Her body was launched backwards as if she was nothing but a gnat being batted away. The blow held such vigorous force that she crashed into the side of the mountain and tumbled with broken rock. Everything crumbled until she too joined the dust upon the ground.
Legolas, with fearful eyes, screamed her name. She did not answer.
The Prince continued firing arrow after arrow as he moved backwards towards the broken Rámaite Mahtar. Each forceful strike diverted the creature's attention. This distraction allowed Aragorn to slice the tentacle constricting Frodo, while Boromir swiftly caught him.
“Go, go, go!” Aragorn yelled, pushing Boromir and Frodo back onto the land. “Into the mines!”
The group darted through the entrance, Legolas scooping (Y/N) up into his arms as he did so. 
The lake’s guardian tried to pursue them, its battered limbs slamming against the rugged mountain surface. However, in doing so, the squid-like creature lost its meal. In its desperate attempt to give chase, the fellowship’s fate was sealed. The attack caused the rocks to tremble and shudder. So much so, that the entrance to the passage crumbled and collapsed—entombing the alive with the dead.
Thick dust now drifted through the air, melding with the sounds of adrenalized breath and pounding hearts. They stood still as Gandalf lit his staff once more.
“We have now but one choice,” the wizard started as he began walking deeper into the mine. “We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world.”
“Mithrandir, wait.” Legolas called out, almost desperately. 
All eyes shifted, only to be surprised to see the Rámaite Mahtar cradled in his arms. Before, she had appeared to be invincible. From the first day they encountered her, when she lifted the strongest member of the fellowship by the throat and nearly killed him, they had thought she was unstoppable. This belief was further reinforced as they witnessed her relentless prowess in battle. She ruthlessly obliterated a pack of orcs like it was nothing. She had annihilated them with sheer force that made even the elves look weak. A glimmer of possibility was instilled in them. Maybe their quest was not destined to fail after all? She was their hope. And now? Now that hope was a slumped, unmoving, bleeding form. 
“(Y/N)?” Pippin whispered, his voice so quiet, so small. 
“Is–is she alive?” Merry added, his tone mirroring his closest friend’s.
Legolas did not answer them as he gently laid her body onto the ground, kneeling next to her. With frantic lips murmuring a prayer in Sindarin, he reached to hold her face. Almost instantly, the Prince’s shaking hands were painted in her red blood. He tried to not focus on it as his nimble fingers found her carotid artery. He couldn't afford to think that she could be dead. Not now. Not ever. 
The air was quiet and full of anxiety as they awaited his words—ones that would either break or heal their hearts. 
“She’s alive.” 
Sighs of relief left many’s lips, though Legolas did not hear one exit the wizard’s. 
“I must treat her wounds.”
Gandalf huffed. “We cannot linger here.”
“Mithrandir!” Legolas called out, appalled. “She cannot be left to bleed—”
“Legolas, îdh, listo. (Legolas, calm, please.)” Aragorn stated, raising his hand. He then turned to the wizard. “Gandalf, Legolas is right. Without medical attention she could die. I understand you do not trust her yet, but she has saved our lives many times over. We need her.” He paused, nodding to the hobbits. “They need her.” 
He huffed but dipped his head in agreement. He couldn't argue with that logic. “Ten minutes.”
Legolas was quick to pull his medical bag from his shoulder and began digging for supplies. 
“Legolas, man  tur- im ceri? (Legolas, what can I do?)” Aragorn stated as he knelt beside him. 
The Prince passed him a small pouch as well as a mortar and pestle. “Mol hi into a sirith ir im heneb hen. (Grind this into a paste while I examine her.)”
Aragorn nodded, beginning the assigned task. 
Legolas lifted her head, feeling the back of it, before speaking in the common tongue for the others to understand. “Swelling, but no blood from this blow. Seems it just knocked her out.” He twisted her face to see the bleeding cut above her brow. “This cut is pretty deep. I will need to stitch it so the skin mends properly.” 
“Despite her ability to heal quickly? Cuts like this usually are gone within a day or so for her, correct?” 
“Yes, but the flow is heavy and with the risk of infection—especially with all the grime in here…..” Legolas let his sentence trail off. 
“Master elf,” Samwise interrupted softly. “Is there anything I can do?” 
The Prince looked up at him. A gentle smile crossed his face for he knew of (Y/N)’s relationship with the hobbits. He knew how much she cared for them and they her. “Sam, if you could get Gandalf’s staff, maybe provide us with some better light?”
The hobbit nodded and quickly scurried off. Legolas could hear the soft conversation between the grumpy wizard and the innocent hobbit, though he was too focused on (Y/N) to pay attention. Regardless, Gandalf must have given in, for the hobbit returned seconds later with the light. 
“Sam, hold it over here. I must check her wings.”
The light cascaded brightly above them, its luminosity filtering across the brilliant wings. The feathers absorbed and reflected those subtle colors, shining them back upon the three men. If the scene wasn't encased in blood and emotional turmoil, it would have been a radiant spectacle. But now, the once alluring silk-like texture bore the marks of horror—marks none would want to see freely.
“There does not appear to be any significant damage. Most of the blood is from the head wound or superficial cuts.” Legolas stated. “It looks worse than it really is.”
“But–but then why isn't she waking up?” Pippin inquired with unease.
Legolas did not answer, for he didn't have a reason to give the hobbit. Instead, he returned to the wound upon her brow. “Pass me that needle and threat.” 
Soon enough, the Rámaite Mahtar’s cut was sealed and the blood upon her face was wiped clean. If they had not known of the events that had transpired, maybe she would have looked like she was sleeping peacefully. That, however, much to their dismay, was not the case.
Boromir, seeing (Y/N)'s treatment completed, spoke again. “We can take shifts carrying her.”
Legolas clenched his jaw, refusing to look at the Gondorian, as he gathered the winged warrior into his arms. “When her wings are exposed, it adds at least a hundred pounds to her weight. Without elven strength, you wouldn’t be able to carry her for long.” 
Boromir scoffed lightly and sent a look at the elf. 
Legolas wanted to snap back with another snarky reply, but he knew it would do no good. Hell, his previous comment was uncalled for—and he knew it. Boromir was a good, honorable man at heart. Legolas knew he would never do anything to harm (Y/N). The Gondorian respected her—as a woman, warrior, and friend. Besides, at this point, it was quite apparent that the Prince and Rámaite Mahtar’s souls were bound. So, Legolas kept his mouth shut as he pushed past Boromir and towards the front of the group. 
Aragorn walked up beside the Gondorian. He gently patted the man’s shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. Elves tend to get quite possessive over their lovers, especially under dire circumstances.” The Ranger then chuckled. “Not one of their finer traits.” 
Boromir snorted lightly in amusement, now not taking Legolas’ behavior to heart. “Indeed,” was his simple reply. 
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as they continued their journey along the paths of the old dwarven corridors. The fellowship found themselves halted at a crossroads, a convergence of three diverging paths, where Gandalf stood at the forefront, evaluating which direction to proceed with. 
Legolas settled himself on the ground, leaning his back against the cool stone surface. Keeping (Y/N) in his lap, he gently adjusted her position, allowing her head to rest upon his chest and shoulder, her face nestled against the curve of his neck. Finding a moment of reprieve, he let out a soft sigh and pressed his head against the wall behind him, shutting his eyes. With a soothing touch, he traced gentle strokes along the Rámaite Mahtar's cheek, passing the time with rest.
It felt like only minutes, even though he knew it was hours, when Gandalf called for them to follow. Legolas begrudgingly stood with (Y/N) in his arms.
“Legolas,” Aragorn’s voice softly sounded beside him. “Let me take her.”
The elf turned to face his friend. “It’s alright. I’ve got her.” 
The Ranger shook his head. “You must keep some strength if we are to make it through this mine. Exhaustion will do you no good. I will watch over her, even if it’s just for a little while.”
Legolas exhaled slowly but dipped his head in agreement. He knew Aragorn was right. As an elf, he had senses that would allow him to slay twice as many servants of darkness. If they were to come across any enemies, they would need him—especially with their strongest weapon now unconscious. Therefore, he passed (Y/N) to Aragorn.
The Ranger was careful as he took her into his arms, her wings hanging limp around him and brushing upon the dusty floor. “Valar—“ he mumbled. “You weren’t kidding about her weight.” 
Legolas smirked lightly. “If she is too heavy, I can take her back.”
The Ranger grunted. “No, no. I’m fine.” 
The elf raised his brows but followed the others.
Legolas kept an eye on Aragorn and (Y/N) as they moved. Though it wasn't out of distrust or jealousy, it was out of concern. He could sense, as the minutes passed and as the terrain roughened, the Ranger began to tire. However, it seemed he was not the only one who could tell. 
Boromir approached Aragorn. “You look like you could use a break. I will carry her.” 
Aragorn let out a low—and slightly strained—laugh. “Are you certain? Legolas wasn’t mistaken about her weight.” 
The Gondorian bobbed his head. “I hardly believe she is that much to bear.” 
“Suit yourself,” the Ranger replied as he passed the winged warrior to the other man. 
“By the Creator….” Boromir immediately gruffed out. 
Now it was Aragorn’s turn to tease. “I warned you.” 
“That you did,” the Gondorian grunted. He then nodded ahead. “We don’t want to get left behind. Let’s keep moving.” 
However, it wasn’t long before Boromir approached Legolas. “I won’t ever doubt the strength of you and your people again,” he expressed, accompanied by a warm smile. “Are you able to carry your girl again?” 
Legolas nodded, guilt flickering in his heart for his previous rude demeanor towards the man. “Yes. Thank you, Boromir. I appreciate your help.”
The Gondorian nodded in understanding before he passed (Y/N) back towards the elf. 
…..
As the days passed, (Y/N) still hadn’t woken, which proved to be worrisome. The wound upon her forehead had healed, leaving only a light scar that Legolas knew would disappear in a couple days. The swelling upon the back of her head vanished as well, providing even more confusion to her still unconscious state. She would stir here and there, but never did those curious, (e/c) eyes open. If she had survived a fall from the Valar’s incarceration, why was she remaining unconscious from a strike of the lake’s beast?
Still, they could not wait on her to wake. They had to push further. So, the fellowship continued to pass through Moria in secret, observing the dwarven wonders as they did so. However, it was ignorant to hope that that secrecy would last—and as soon as the corpse of an old dwarf tumbled down that well, they knew they were discovered. 
It all happened so fast. 
Legolas barely had time to place (Y/N)’s form down against Balin’s tomb before the doors were splintering, revealing orc faces dripping with evil desire. 
However, at the first clank of a sword, there came at least one good act.
A large gasp, loud and alarm-filled, struck the air. The Rámaite Mahtar jolted upright. In an instant, her wings snapped back to life, shedding their previously limp state, and surged outward with lethal swiftness. As they unfurled, they decapitated three nearby orcs.
Legolas could only manage to call out her name in relief before he too was consumed by the battle. 
With (Y/N) ripping the vile creatures into pieces, even faster than the elf, the fellowship had thought they had a chance. Well, that was until one sentence left the Gondorian’s lips.
“They have a fucking cave troll.” 
From then on, it was a blur. Each member of the group was fighting for their lives—including the hobbits. Though all their hearts stopped when Frodo called out in pain and crumbled to the ground. Shrieks of fear left every member’s lips as Aragorn desperately rushed to his body. Those heartaching cries, however, quieted when Frodo’s small voice sang out clearly. “It’s alright. I’m not hurt.” 
Then they were running again, and again, and again. 
The immense chamber teemed with a horde of orcs, swarming across every surface—the ground, walls, and ceiling. So much so, that the members of the quest were encircled by them, barely having room to breathe. A sort of stalemate settled in, both sides waiting for the other to make the first move.
(Y/N)’s wings twitched as she rotated, readying herself.
Though a fight did not come—not from the thousands of revolting beings. 
Badum, badum, badum. 
Each member of the fellowship spun and turned at that sound. 
Badum, badum, badum. 
The orcs faltered and swiveled their heads. 
Badum, badum, badum. 
Panic then erupted. The grotesque creatures scrambled to flee. They shoved and pushed one and other as their gangly forms scurried away—back to the hellhole that they came from. 
Badum, badum, badum. 
“What is this new devilry?” Boromir whispered. 
Badum, badum, badum. 
Gandalf sucked in a deep breath. “A balrog of Morgoth.”
(Y/N)’s heart froze. 
“A demon of the ancient world,” Gandalf continued. “This foe is beyond any of you. RUN!”
It was here that the fellowship mimicked the goblins—though with more care for one another. They took off down the vast hallway as they made for the Bridge of Khazad Dum. Their legs moved quicker than they ever would have thought possible—stopping only when there was a gap in a path above the fiery abyss.
Legolas was the first to leap across, his nimble form making it appear easy. Gandalf was the next to make the jump. Merry and Pippin were to follow with Boromir; however, they were halted as arrows shot at their feet—just nearly missing. 
(Y/N) whipped her head around, just in time to see another projectile whizzing straight towards Boromir. 
The Rámaite Mahtar was quick to lift her wing in front of him. The fine tip pierced her instantly, causing a deep grunt of pain to exit her lips. The arrow went through the feathery flesh, but halted as it got stuck in tight muscle—only inches away from Boromir’s forehead. 
The Gondorian’s wide eyes shifted to her—in thanks, in shock, in guilt. 
Legolas quickly turned and fired his bow, taking out the archer. 
“Go!” (Y/N) shouted as she lowered her wing. 
With that, Boromir grabbed Merry and Pippin and leaped onto the other side. His feet landed just before the section they had previously stood on collapsed. 
(Y/N) was next. She lifted her wings slightly, despite the pain, to give herself more of a drift. As she landed she shuffled close to Merry and Pippin and ripped the arrow from her wing with a groan.
As Legolas caught Sam and then Gimli—by the beard—another arrow whizzed past the hobbits’ head. 
Once again, the Rámaite Mahtar shielded them—earning two more arrows in the wing. 
By the time Frodo and Aragorn finagled their way across the ever growing gap, the Balrog was upon them. 
The fellowship were fleeing as fast as they possibly could. A few brave souls dared to steal a glance behind, their hearts pounding in their chests. Among them was Frodo, and as his eyes locked onto the fiery menace descending upon Gandalf, a cry of terror escaped his lips. The collective gaze of the group shifted at that, now drawn to the scene unfolding before them. They then bore witness.
The wizard stood strong. His deep voice, full of power and protection, echoed through the cavern. “You cannot pass.” 
The Balrog attacked. Gandalf defended. 
“I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow!”
Once again, the Balrog attacked. Gandalf defended. 
The wizard brought his sword and staff crashing down upon the bridge, a resounding boom echoing through the air. His voice then thundered, filled with unwavering determination. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Those words seemed to reverberate through the chamber, carrying the weight of his command across the stone. In that moment, he stood as a barrier, defying the very force that sought to destroy them and their mission.
The bridge began to crumble. Piece by piece, the stone began to fall, taking the Balrog with it. 
Gandalf inhaled deeply. 
It was done. 
The whip, however, lashed out one final time. With a swift motion, it coiled around the wizard's ankle, forcefully pulling him off his feet. In a fleeting moment, he was airborne, his body suspended before gravity claimed its prize. Gandalf’s hands flailed, desperately reaching out for anything to anchor him to the bridge's edge. His fingers found the stone and his nails dug in. Though, he knew he had no chance. He wished only to leave a message for the one who looked up to him the most.
Frodo cried out once again, lunging for his mentor and friend.
Boromir, however, wrapped a strong arm around him and held him back. 
The little hobbit, sobbing, held eye contact with the wizard. 
“Fly you fools,” Gandalf whispered. 
Then, he too, was gone. 
Frodo screamed, his cry intertwining with that of his fellow hobbits, creating a symphony of despair that echoed through the burning darkness.
However, they weren’t the only ones to have a profound reaction.
Surprisingly, (Y/N) rushed forward. She sprinted down the bridge, her legs carrying her fast, but she wasn’t fast enough. Legolas anticipated what she was going to do. He saw how her strides stretched wide and how her wings extended. She was gonna jump. Reacting swiftly, he took off after her. His paces were wider and his speed was quick. Just as she was about to push herself into the air, Legolas grabbed onto her waist and yanked her backward. The unstable bridge trembled under the sudden motion, threatening to give way, but the elf maintained his balance and steadied the winged woman in his grasp.
“LEGOLAS!” she snapped in fierce anger. Her threatening gaze—one that he had only seen directed towards enemies—poured into him, almost incinerating his soul. 
“IT’S TOO LATE!” He barked back, ignoring the startlement that just flushed his veins and choosing to focus on the bridge crumbling beneath their feet. “RUN!” 
With that he tugged her in the opposite direction, following the remaining members of the fellowship. 
When they burst from the mines, their souls shattered like fragile glass. The hobbits collapsed upon the stony ground, their tears flowing freely, their sorrow reverberating through their chests. Agonized grimaces etched themselves onto the faces of Gimli and Boromir. Aragorn tried his best to conceal his pain, though his grey eyes betrayed him with hidden turmoil. And Legolas? He stood motionless, disbelief written across his face.
(Y/N), however, snapped him out of it. She pushed her palms against his chest, hard. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?”
He twisted to look at her. “What?”
“Why did you stop me?!” The Rámaite Mahtar quipped back aggressively. She grasped onto the two arrows still embedded in her wing. She yanked them out. “I COULD HAVE SAVED HIM!” 
Legolas shook his head, his tone calm and full of despair. “No, (Y/N). No, you could not.”
Her hands ran through her hair, frantically and angrily, the strands tangled and pulled on as she sought release from the overwhelming emotions rippling through her blood. A frustrated scream escaped her lips—a raw manifestation of these turbulent feelings surging. With a sudden burst, she spun back around, facing him with eyes ablaze. “I have killed one of those–those balrogs!” She took an enraged step towards him. “My legion and I bleed one dry of its fire! And you—”
Legolas interrupted her, his tone now picking up. “And I stopped you from killing yourself! You and your legion—”
“Legolas!—”
He grabbed onto her shoulders as his next words raced across the stones, silencing the area from all but tears. “YOUR LEGION ISN'T HERE!” 
The wind skipped through the leaves of the trees, uneasy at the elf’s sudden tone. It blew gently upon the despairing people, begging to kiss their skin with some kind of hope, but only succeeding in tearing their hearts further. Still, it continued its melancholic dance. Seemingly carrying the weight of their shattered souls with its whispering of sorrowful melodies. 
Nature itself mourned alongside (Y/N) as she stared, bewildered, at Legolas. 
The Prince closed his eyes and lowered his head. He inhaled deeply, regretting his tone. After a moment, now returned to his normal steady and calm temperament, he gazed into her eyes and spoke again. “(Y/N), your legion is not here and they will remain absent. They were not present to help you defeat this Balrog and they will not come to help you fight others. They are imprisoned, beyond your reach. They won't escape as you did—not now, not after you have. The chains will have been fortified and the gates sealed with blood. You are the sole Rámaite Mahtar that will ever step on these lands.” He paused, his tone now a whisper. “You are alone.”
(Y/N)’s expression distorted. Her brows crinkled, her lips quivered, her eyes watered, and her form shook. Emotions whipped through her blood, boiling and freezing in the pain of realization and acceptance. She supposed a part of her had thought that her race would eventually return with her—join her in learning this plane. Though now that that secret hope was exposed and disproven, there was nothing else to be said. The truth stood liberated from the web of self-created falsehoods that had previously concealed it.
“(Y/N),” Legolas whispered, realizing the dream he had just shattered. 
And that was all it took. 
A loud sob escaped her throat and tears pooled down her face. She flung her form into his arms and cried.
She cried and she cried—as loudly as the hobbits. 
And Legolas held her. He rocked her back and forth as he smoothed her hair, desperately trying to keep her safe from the pain, though he knew it was too late. He pressed a kiss to her head as he whispered into her ear. “Though you may be alone among your kind, I will forever be by your side.”
…..
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6
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thewulf · 1 month
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Only You || Legolas
Summary: Request: Can you do a elf reader x Legolas where he's finally home in mirkwood after the quest? Maybe Gimli is with him and he's like 'i see why you always talked about the lassie.' or something funny that exposes Legolas for how much he really likes her. He then confeses and asks to court her or something sweet pleaseee?? My fav fluff writer! Thank u!
A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words and sweet as heck request. Really love this one. I didn't edit it too heavily so please be wary of general writing mistakes! Hope you all enjoy my fav elf imagine :)
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.9k +
TW: Pure fluff? No LOTR triggers
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You had finally gotten a free evening to yourself after training for the better part of every evening for the last year with your father, Girdirion. He had been training you relentlessly after Legolas had left of the quest his father, King Thranduil, had sent him off on. That was over a year ago. You hadn’t heard much other than they had made it to Minas Tirith a few months ago.
Your father suddenly saw you as defenseless without your longtime friend at your side. Being the kings most trusted advisor, he had been trained for centuries and was a formidable fighter. It wasn’t until after Legolas had left that you had realized how serious the threat to middle earth was. Your father must had realized it too as he worked you to the bone, training you at every chance he could.
It was only after King Thranduil received word that the ring had been destroyed and his son was heading home did things begin to change. Your father still made you train but it wasn’t at every waking moment any longer. Tonight, was one of those nights that he had given you off as he had meetings to attend to with the king.
Time felt too slow as you waited for Legolas to return. He promised he would. You knew he would. He was all the way across middle earth, but you just couldn’t seem to wait any longer. You longed for you best friend, who meant much more to you than just a best friend, to come home.
As soon as you settled on your bed to begin reading the novel you had been meaning to finish there was a quick knock at your door. Who could that be? You weren’t expecting anybody at this hour after dinner. Begrudgingly, you set the book down just as you had gotten comfortable and made your way over to the door.
When you opened the door you scrunched your face in confusion, “Father? What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting with the king?”
He nodded, “I was. Then we got interrupted. There is somebody here I think you may want to see.” His smile let you know exactly what you were thinking. Legolas was home. He was back in Mirkwood after nearly a year and a half away. Sure, it wasn’t that long of a time for you in the scheme of your lifetime but it did feel like the longest year of your nearly two thousand years in middle earth.
“Legolas?” You tore out of your room not waiting for his response as you made your way to the throne room. You heard your fathers deep laughter behind you before he jogged to catch up with your lighter than air pace.
Once he caught up to you he had that knowing smile on his face. He had watched the two of you dance around the obvious feelings each other had. You never thought you were good enough to be with the kings son. He never thought you were interested in that way. But to everybody on the outside looking in it was rather obvious the two of you were destined to be together. Even if it was taking longer than expected. A thousand years longer than expected. See, King Thranduil and your father had agreed they would bless the union between the two of you should it come naturally. But neither had the heart to force it. He and your father knew as good as anybody these things had to find their way on their own, naturally. Even if it drove the two elder Ellon’s mad.
“Indeed, your elf has made it home.” He spoke as the two of you walked, much faster than normal, towards the kings room.
Before you opened the massive wood doors you turned to him with a sly smile and a hint of a blush dotting the apples of your cheeks, “My elf?”
Your father raised his eyebrows at you, “Go on then.” He pushed you forward ignoring your question.
When you pushed open the doors you couldn’t find the familiar blonde hair of your best friend. Even as you walked closer to the throne you looked all around the hall and only spotted King Thranduil who was giving you the same smirk your father just did. What were they up to? Where was Legolas? And why was the king looking at you like he knows something you didn’t?
“I apologize my king.” You bowed unsure of what else to do. When you turned to see if your father had followed you in you were left biting your lip seeing the door closed without him in the room. What was he up to? “My father said…”
Thranduil put his hand up pausing you right in your tracks, “Legolas is out in the gardens with a dwarf. A dwarf!” He sounded more frustrated than excited to his son after the time away.
But you cracked a smile instead. That was so him. He was anything and everything his father was not. The two of them could not have more different personalities. Your best friend was the one to push boundaries no elves would or could do seeing that his father was the king, “A dwarf you say? That sounds like him.”
Thranduil studied your happier than he’s seen you in an entire year expression full well knowing it was because Legolas was back from his grand quest. Thranduil rose from his throne before walking down to you. Having to look up to him because he was so tall all you could do was wait on his word.
He pointed his hand towards the entrance to the kings private gardens, “Go, you audience is rather impatiently waiting on you.” He gave you a knowing smile before retreating towards the door you had originally come in, likely to go find your father. Not wasting anymore time you made a beeline towards the doors that led to the private gardens you so rarely got to enjoy. He must have deemed it enough of a special occasion to grant access to not only you, but a dwarf as well. You knew Legolas was behind that as well. He was the only one to get the king to agree to something he might not want to do.
For the second time in a few moments, you threw open the heavy wooden doors leading out to the gardens. It did not take you long to hear the pair before you saw them. You paused hoping to catch just a brief moment between the two of them before you made your presence completely known. As you suspected the dwarf had Legolas distracted from hearing you walk out.
“Look at ya lad. Pacin’ like a horse.” The unfamiliar voice chuckled. You had a feeling the dwarf poked fun at the ellon more often than not.
You just knew he was rolling his eyes, the beautiful blonde prince he was, “I am not Gimli.”
But the dwarf just kept laughing, “Ya’ weren’t even this nervous when we rode up to the Black Gate.”
“Would you quiet down dwarf. She will be out momentarily.” That sounded just like the elf that had left a year and a half prior. It was almost too easy to get him worked up and the dwarf called Gimli certainly enjoyed playing into it.
“The little lassie has you this nervous huh?” You? You made him nervous?
Legolas let out a huff, “Gimli!” And you knew that was your queue to help spare the ellon from his friend who seemed relentless. You already liked Gimli from the sounds of it. You shut the door behind you louder than necessary to signal your arrival.
Taking a deep breath, you walked forward suddenly terribly nervous after those comments. What was Gimli playing on? Why would he be nervous to see you? You didn’t want to get your hopes up on feelings as you buried those away centuries ago. Your crush for the ellon grew slowly the first thousand or so years you knew him. Truly organic in the best way possible. Childhood friends to training partners to friends then best friends after it all. Once your training to become a healer had completed you had a sneaking suspicion all his injuries in the field were so he could come see you after some time away. He would only request you. Straight refusing the other healers help when offered. He would wait for you.
But then it just stayed like that. You thought it could grow into something more, but it dawned on you over the next few centuries his father had a say in who he courts and marries. Why would King Thranduil allow his son to court you of all elves? Sure, your father was his most trusted advisor, but you were no political gain in marriage. So you did what you did best, buried the feelings deep and bottled it all up.
The two of them quieted quickly hearing the door close. When you turned the corner you finally spotted your prince after far too long apart paired with an adorably red-headed dwarf who was staring right at you. You however were staring straight at Legolas as your small smile turned into a massive one. There he was, as handsome as ever, standing right there in front of you after too long. The longest either have you had spent apart from each other.
“Legolas.” You grinned before pulling him into a tight hug. It was when he gave you a big squeeze back that you simply just melted into the ellon completely forgetting you had an audience yourselves.
“Aye lad! You left out the detail of your Y/N being quite the beauty.” Gimli spoke up from beside you breaking the trance the two of you seemed to be under. You giggled once you pulled away from him seeing the look of horror cross his face at his friends comments.
You turned to the dwarf feeling the nerves wash away. You had the advantage here as Gimli seemed to want to torture your friend, “Hello. It is lovely to meet you. I am Y/N. Daughter of Girdirion, King Thranduil’s advisor.”
He pointed at you before narrowing his eyes at you, “Do you hate dwarves as much as his father does?”
You shook your head, “Hardly. You are actually the first dwarf I am meeting. I do not get away often.” You knelt down making yourself level with him, “You are much cuter than made out to be.” That earned a few stumbling words and a rather mighty blush to the warrior who seemed to have nothing but words. You managed to render him speechless.
This earned a snicker from your favorite ellon, “Elf got your tongue there Gimli?”
That comment must have meant war between the two of them. The dwarf cocked his eyes up to his friend, shook his head then turned back to you who was now back to standing instead of crouching, “Lady Y/N. It is lovely to finally meet you too. I feel as though I already know ya lassie.” He grinned knowing exactly what he was about to do.
You looked at Legolas with curiosity framing your face before returning your attention back to Gimli, “Do you?”
“Aye.” He nodded, “Legolas here would never shut up about ye. Y/N this. Y/N that. Y/N would love this. Y/N would hate that.”
You knew your cheeks were surely aflame with embarrassment just as Legolas’ were, “We have spent quite some time together over the years.”
But Gimli wouldn’t have that, “I think it has something to do with you lassie. The way you look. The way you dress. The way you seem to occupy his every thought.”
“That is enough.” Legolas finally chimed in giving his friend a hard stare telling him to get the hell out. But that only egged the red head on further. Your eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them before Gimli relented.
He bowed his head, “My lady.”
Echoing his actions you responded, “Gimli.” Before turning your attention back to the prince. Your eyes finally were able to scan his features. Not a hair seemed out of place. He was exactly as you remembered.
“Welcome home.” You gave him your biggest smile feeling like you could finally relax after seeing him alive and well.
He wasted no more time before pulling you into a second bone crushing hug. He had never been so forward causing you to let out a slight stutter in surprise of his actions. It was the last thing you had expected from him. But then again, who knew what he went through out there. Legolas was a strong warrior, but you knew how deeply this could impact anybody who had to go through it.
“I have missed you.” He whispered into your ear not letting his arms go from around you. He had no clue how his words were affecting you in that moment. Suddenly you felt that stupid little crush, that was surely love at this point, bubbling up from the depths of your heart that you had long since locked away.
When he pulled away after a few moments he took the time to look you over just as you had moments prior. He didn’t drop his hands from around your waist though, simply holding you loosely in his embrace. You had never felt his eyes or his hands on you heavily before or that you had noticed in the past, “I have missed you beyond words Legolas. I have spent a year and a half filled with the dread of the thought you may never come home. Seeing you here is the greatest gift Eru Ilúvatar could have bequeathed.”
It was then that Legolas knew just how deep your feelings ran for him just as they had run for you. He too had spent the better part of a thousand years being absolutely in love with you, his favorite elf, but making no indication of it. For he thought you may have eyes for someone else. He could not risk losing you in the event you said ‘no’ to his request to court you. But by the way you were looking at him he knew that was wrong. Your love laced eyes could not break away from his gorgeous blue ones.
He knew he needed to take the next step with you. Gimli was right. His dwarf friend spent the better part of the journey home convincing him he needed to ask the question he had been dying to ask you. He wanted to court you. Spend the rest of his middle earth life and the next one with you. He had never been so sure of that. The thought of courting another elleth felt wrong. It was you. It was always going to be you.
“Gimli was not lying, my lady.” Even though it came out as a whisper your ears could pick it up with no problem.
That shocked you. Was he admitting the same thing that you were? Did he have feelings for you too? “Pardon?”
He grinned seeing your dumb struck face, “You do in fact occupy my every thought. You are the reason I am here now. I fought for middle earth, yes. But for you more. Thinking of your smile pulled me out of the darkest of times
Your lips parted in utter shock at his admission, “Legolas, I…” You were at a loss for words as you processed his confession to you. Your heart was giving you away completely though as it beat faster than it ever had before.
He continued seeing as you were rendered speechless, “It was only ever you. It was only every going to be you, my love. You are my very best friend Y/N. I would never want to continue this life with somebody who was not you. It is only you. It will only ever be you.” He paused finding the courage to say what had been on the tip of his tongue for centuries, “I love you.”
Your jaw might have been on the floor at this point, “You love me?”
He nodded with a nervous expression, “More than you will ever know.”
That was all you needed before you walked forward, butting yourself right against his chest, “That is a relief my prince. As I love you too. More than you will ever know.”
Euphoria. The truest form of euphoria pulsed through your body as you too admitted what had always been so hard to admit.
His expression melted to that of pure elation. Gently he placed his hands under your chin, cupping your face so carefully, “May I begin to court you, my love?”
“I would be so honored Legolas.” Your head was turned up as you looked into his eyes for likely the millionth time. It was different this time. Charged with love and lust. Like you were looking at a new Legolas. One that you could get to know at a much deeper level.
He brushed his thumb over your lips sending shivers racking throughout your body, “Only you. Only ever you.”
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shrubdaddy · 2 years
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desideratum | l.greenleaf
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: desideratum | /dəˌzidəˈrädəm/| noun | something that is needed or wanted.
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: legolas x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 987
a/n: hii, i haven't written in a while. pls have mercy. gif from @imaginelegolas copyright © | please do not repost my work.
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You sat at the edge of the bed, fiddling with the warm, rough sheets looking anywhere but him.
Glancing at the window beside the bed, you stared into the dark and dense woods wondering how you got yourself into these precarious situations. Shifting your focus, you watched as the raindrops chased each other down the window, anything to distract you from the elf right in front of her.
Luckily, you were able to grab the last room of the bustling Inn. It turns out, that you and Legolas were not the only two traveling West. As you entered Rhosgobel, a small town close to the road, a dark storm began to brew and heavy rain began to fall on you both, soaking you to the bone.
The small tavern turned into a safe haven for weary travelers, which made the inn a little busier than usual. Thankfully, the room was a ways away from the noise, nestled in the very back corner of the upper floor.
A busy tavern meant an even busier bar and you found that men can get a little too handsy for your liking. Unfortunately, this led to a small incident that included a drunkard following you to the room and a not-so-merciful elf intervening.
“He’s gone, I promise you that,” he reassured her. “And I can confidently say, he will never be bothering you again.”
A delicate silence fell between them, nothing but the muffled murmurs of the crowd below and the howling wind outside. Catching a chill, you shivered from the clothes you had on or quite possibly from the harassment you had to endure.
“Thank you, I’m sure I could’ve taken care of it...” you said. Fiddling with your fingers, you wanted to end the conversation as soon as politely possible.
“I swore to your Father I would protect you on our journey, I will not betray his trust,” he said. Despite his warm words and the roaring fire in front of you, you couldn’t help but shiver a little. Unsure of whether or not the shiver is from the wet clothes or him merely thinking of you as a duty.
Legolas kneels in front of you with his eyes scanning your body for any injury. Without warning, he leans forward and reaches for your chin, nudging you to look at him once again and studying every detail of your face.
“You’re soaked to the bone, you need to rest now… I will keep watch at the bar and will to ensure that no one will come close to this room. He will not come back.”
There was small silence as you quickly looked away, before he leaned back to get up.
“Stay,” you whispered.
He paused, staring at you not knowing what to say.
she fiddled with her hands, looking anywhere but him. flustered and undone, she whispered just a little louder.
“I don’t want to be alone right now.” you looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Stay. Please.”
As the light of the fire brushed the side of your face, Legolas caught a glimpse of the dark circles under your eyes attesting to the countless, sleepless nights. You don’t if it was the exhaustion or the sheer desperation that gave you the courage. But he nodded, not saying a single word.
Taking off your shoes and wet outer garments, you slowly walk to the side and crawl into the bed, burrowing yourself in the covers hoping you can disappear for a small moment from embarrassment.
After ensuring the door is locked and all is secure, Legolas slowly walked to the other side of the bed to join you.
His eyes skim the smaller figure in the bed and couldn’t help the little breath that escaped him.
Joining you in bed, he moves closer to you shifting a little closer to you. He was so close, you can feel the heat radiate off of him.
And out of sheer courage and faulty foolishness, you turn around — avoiding any speck of eye contact, you move closer to him and he gently wraps his arms around you.
As he pulls the covers over the both of them, he makes sure to tuck you in, covering every inch of you with the blanket. As you finally feel a bit more comfortable, you burrow yourself deeper into his chest and whispering a barely audible, “Thank you.”
Looking down at you, Legolas tugs you just a little bit closer, holding you a little tighter and whispers back, “Always.”
Your eyes begin to slowly flutter shut and as your breath begins to even, your soft breaths even out and you’re fast asleep.
Unconsciously, Legolas begins to caress the small sliver of skin on your shoulder as you sleep. Enamored by the reality that he’s holding you, he couldn’t help but want to soak at this moment.
His eyes graze your sleeping form, memorizing every little detail from your messy, entangled hair covering your face to the even little breaths coming from your slightly cracked lips.
it mattered not to the uncomfortable position he was resting in — with his head angled in a precarious position halfway on the headboard and his slightly numb arm wrapped around your slender waist, it only mattered that you asked him.
You asked him to stay.
Not because he asked but because you undoubtedly felt safer with him.
And that warmed his heart at the same time shattered a million times over. He wished to keep you safe and protected and loved forevermore. If only you allowed him.
But in this moment, he will take anything he can get. Legolas was thankful, and maybe a little selfish, for these smaller wants that led to this moment because wow did his heart flutter every time he looked at you.
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coffeekeyboardsss · 2 years
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Lord of the rings romance fics:
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eirual-32 · 3 months
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Before the Birds Sang - Legolas x Reader
A.N.: As of now, it is a one shot imagine, but it could turn into a short series if you desire. Also, there might be some mistakes and I’m sorry for that but English isn’t my first language. Hope you enjoy! I really like this one :)
Legolas x Human Reader
Summary: On a certain evening when loneliness creeps in, Legolas is there to silently comfort you. Between the two of you, so many feelings are uncovered but also left unsaid.  
fluff, slight angst, hair braiding, hidden feelings
Reader isn’t aware of the meaning behind hair braiding for elves (love, courting…)
Warnings: none
Words: 1 884
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So much time had already passed since you had left your dear home. Of course, you did miss it. In your dreams, you were reminded of what made it your own: the modest but charming garden your mother was constantly occupied embellishing, the cherry blossom trees you could observe from your room’s window gently swaying with the wind flying over the valley, the numerous birds that would wake you from a peaceful sleep when you had left your shutters open for the night…
These souvenirs, the little pieces of home still residing in your mind, brought you comfort and hope that, somehow, you would come back alive to your mother. It was a dangerous adventure and death was constantly near, but you had no regrets. Indeed, the quest you had embarked on served a crucial purpose in which the faith of Middle-earth was at stake. Consequently, being a part of the Fellowship was an honor and you had come to appreciate each one of the members accompanying you. They all were great company and having them by your side eased your growing homesickness. However, late at night, when the time had come to slip into slumber, the loneliness crawled back in with an enhanced heaviness.
This is the state you now found yourself in, lying on your back on a thin layer of ferns while staring at the stars as if they would help you find the rest your body so desperately craved, but couldn’t give in to. You clung onto the thin blanket barely protecting you from the coldness of the night as you once more forcefully shut your eyes, sighing in desperation.
Your sigh must have been louder than you had wished since a worried voice quickly followed, “Are you not able to sleep Y/N?” You swiftly turned your head to the side to find Legolas, the elf on the Fellowship who had quickly creeped its way into your heart, sitting a few feet away against a log surrounding the campfire that had been put out before nightfall. As always, he was up late, not needing to sleep much.
You were unsure whether it was merely your human nature’s reaction to the refined beauty of elves, but Legolas had fascinated you from the moment your eyes had met his gentle ones all these months ago. Since then, you had been able to slightly put aside the odd feelings that had invaded your being the first time you encountered him and a lovely friendship blossomed between the two of you. Legolas was never one to judge you and you truly felt like you could be your true self around him. He was an ellon of a few words, but an attentive listener. Therefore, you were allowed to share and relieve yourself of the fears you had regarding this journey thanks to him. Secretly, he held an extra special place in your heart.
It is the reason why, as he now searched your eyes questioning what was bothering, you felt your chest flutter and you averted your gaze to instead look back at the dark sky saying, “It is nothing new Legolas. I merely am frightened of what’s to come. You know how much I worry I will never come home to my mother.” You paused as you fought back the tears lingering in your eyes.
You heard Legolas shuffle closer and sit close to your head still resting on the ground. His comforting presence calmed you and you continued, “I am all she has left. I can’t help feeling guilty to have left her.” You sniffed slightly and closed your eyes.
For a few minutes, you both fell in a comfortable silence during which all that could be heard was the slow breaths you both let out, the faint snores of your companions sleeping nearby and the wind whistling through the countless trees surrounding you.
Your shut eyes softly opened back when a delicate hand started cautiously caressing your long hair dispersed around your head. His gentle motions started at the top of your head and ended where your neck began, just behind your right ear. His touch was so light you could have believed the breeze was the one stroking your skin and strands of your hair.
As you relished in the feeling of his rare touch on you, you tempted a look at Legolas. Still sitting, his eyes were now fixed right in front of him, mindlessly surveying the woods. From this angle, observing him from below, you could see how the moon reflected on the smooth skin covering his face making it glitter subtly. As usual, strands of his snow-colored hair were neatly braided back revealing his beautifully shaped ears and his perfectly sculpted jawline. While your eyes continued to trail over his face, you couldn’t help feeling as if you were staring at an otherworldly being which technically, he was. His mere existence felt magical. Indeed, Legolas was an elf, but deep down, you knew he felt like more than that to you.
Legolas must have sensed your gaze on him because, in their inspection, your eyes finally reached his again but now, they weren’t fixed on the trees before him anymore. You were now staring directly in his soft eyes looking down at you as they seemed to silently try to read you. Slowly, a kind smile illuminated his face. Color stained your cheeks as you detected a hint of mischievousness in his expression at having caught you admiring him.
His voice was then heard again, “I thought I was helping you falling asleep. Alas, I appear to rather be a distraction to you,” he stated as his playful smirk grew even more. You lowered your eyes briefly, embarrassment creeping in, but quickly lifted them again as you heard him giggle softly.
A newfound fondness towards him filled your body at the sound of his laugh and at the realization of the subtle closeness of the moment. This time, you maintained his gaze until your eyes fluttered close when his hand that had stilled itself on your temple began stroking your hair smoothly once more.
“You like it?” he nearly whispered. You smiled softly and nodded. You opened your eyes again to find Legolas gently reciprocating your grin.
“You haven’t slept much lately Y/N. You need to rest, mellon nin. A long journey still lies ahead of us,” he said. You hummed in response as an idea crossed your mind.
Without overanalyzing it, you asked, “Would you braid my hair like elves do?” Legolas’ hand halted in its movements and if you hadn’t been gazing intensely in his eyes, you would have missed an unknown expression that subtly flashed in them. However, he quickly regained his composure as his hand resumed its path in your hair.
Since he wasn’t responding, you grew unsure of your request. Thankfully, he relieved you of your uncertainty by muttering, “Would it help you fall asleep afterwards?”
“Yes, it would. Your touch is so soothing. It has already helped put to rest all that was haunting me earlier,” you replied quietly, a grateful glint in your eyes.
Legolas scanned your features as if hesitating, but then requested for you to sit up. He delicately covered your shoulders with your blanket and tugged your forearm lightly to guide you further back in front of his crossed legs. He began by brushing his elegant fingers through your hair, untangling the knots that had formed during the day. You closed your eyes once again enjoying how his gentle touch made you feel. Afterwards, he parted your hair and took two strands he pulled together and skillfully braided into a single braid in the back. Your closed eyelids became heavier at each second that passed.  
Then, he leaned a bit closer to be able to braid the hair right above your ears, starting on your right side. A shiver ran through your body as you sensed his warm exhale on your ear and neck. Shortly after, your heart rate accelerated when you felt a tremble in his breath as if he was nervous. That is when you discerned the intimacy of the moment you were sharing. You could not recall having shared such a tender act with anyone other than your mother and the idea of you making the ellon behind you anxious filled you with feelings you were not familiar with.  
Unexpectedly, now working on the last braid, near your left hear, Legolas softly said, “Regarding what you said to me earlier about your mother and you fearing to never come back to her, I of course can’t assure you that nothing will happen to you since the dangers ahead are unknown, but…” He paused completing your hairstyle and delicately turning you around so you could sit while facing him. For a few seconds, his gaze lovingly swept over your hair and your face halting at your eyes. Finally, he finished his sentence, intently diving his gaze into yours, “I promise that I will look after you and do everything in my power for you to return home unarmed.”
At his words, you felt a soothing warmth invading your stomach and you smiled at him, again admiring his majestic beauty. His right hand still resting on your shoulder now raised itself to lightly take a hold of your cheek. His index brushed your skin tenderly and you leaned into his hand as you grasped his wrist gently. As you stared at one another, a certain tension weighed on the both of you in which so much was left unsaid. Your breaths fanning on the other’s face, a sense of surprise seized you when you became aware of your proximity as you knew Legolas was never one for physical touch, but here you were.
“Bain,” he whispered. “You look beautiful,” he completed while releasing a breath. You stared startled, heart beating furiously. What shocked you even more is when Legolas leaned in to lay his lips on your cheek in a soft kiss and then did the same on your forehead. The skin his mouth had touched was tingling and your body craved for him to lean in again. However, you stayed put, even as the ellon’s eyes briefly drifted to your lips before looking back into yours, pink now tinting his cheeks.
That’s when he put his hands on both your shoulders and leaned back,“It is time for you to rest now, ok?” he said in a low voice which broke the spell you had both fell in while you shyly had explored the other with your sight and touch.
“Yes.” You nodded. “Thank you again Legolas. For everything.” You smiled and he lightly bowed his head, his gentle eyes never leaving yours.
He stood up, leaving you yearning for his touch again as the emplacements on your skin he had been in contact with grew cold. Nevertheless, your insides were burning as you stared at the elf regaining his earlier spot near the campfire. You lay back down on the ground, glancing once more at Legolas who was now observing you from afar, a sparkle in his eyes, before your eyelids who had grown heavy shut one final time and you were transported back home, in dreams, to the birds singing melodically outside your window.
A.N.: If you desire a second part, I will write one :).
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spasmsofthought · 3 months
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let there be light (let me be right) [legolas x reader]
New to writing for this space and I have no idea what I'm doing or what this is, really. this was all written at once, so please excuse any mistakes. I really didn't research much - this all comes from memories or things I found on tumblr. I couldn't find the right Elvish to copy, and it would have stolen my mojo if I searched for too long, so I gave up. Sorry!
IDK word count, but it's not very long.
A bittersweet parting. Inspired by Sun by Sleeping At Last.
Enjoy and please let me know what you think! Please like, comment, and reblog xo
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It was his last night here, for the darkness had now even reached Imladris and in the morning he would depart with the Fellowship and begin a long, arduous journey to finally destroy the One Ring.
Even the shadows the barest sliver of moon brought as it rose above the background of the inky sky could not dim the brightness of his gaze as it rested on you.
There were no words to be spoken. There would never be enough to bridge the void between where he must go and where you had to stay.
In all your years alive you could depend on the constancy of life in the valley. The seasons came and went, the sun and moon did their eternal dance across the sky; the stars continued to shine, glimmering even in the darkest of nights. But home was more than the rushing waters and fog rolling over the Misty Mountains early in the morning.
His very smile seemed to eclipse the sun, especially when he was smiling at you. Glorious and noble and magnificent, Legolas was the safest, sturdiest home your heart had ever known. And, you were sure, the only one it would ever know; the only one that really mattered.
Separation could be painful, but you had endured that before. It was the reason for this particular leaving that produced a new kind of ache. You had given him up before, for period of time which passed by with little consequence, but you had never been confronted with the possibility that you might have to give him up forever.
"My love," A gentle touch to your chin turns your eyes away from the scenery. "Put the worry in your heart away. I will return to you."
Your hand lightly sweeps over his before it rests on his forearm.
"Yes, I know," You say. You take in his eyes and his hair. "I know you will."
You, again, look over the shape of his face, "But even you cannot predict the future or guarantee an outcome."
The shine in his eyes softens and he breathes out a long sigh. You breathe in as his forehead tenderly rests against yours. The burden is heavy but there is a little relief that the weight is shared.
"I love you," You whisper gingerly to him. The gap lessens as you move to him, bridging the distance you can before you are unable to at all. The sound of your voice fades, but your lips continue to move.
You know time is running out. The sun will rise very soon and then -- then this will be all you have of him.
I love you your lips say against his skin. With your whole heart, as full and melancholic as it is, you mean it. Legolas must know it for his mouth steals your words and your love before the dawn can take them.
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