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tathrin · 9 months

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An Elvish Lure

Somebody said “using yourself as bait” and my brain spat this disconnected snippet out, so: enjoy a scene in which the Three Hunters try an alternate plan by which to catch-up with the orcs and free Merry and Pippin.

"No," Gimli said.

"Gimli—"

"No," he said again, shaking his head hard enough to make the braids of his beard slap against his shoulders. "No, absolutely not."

"Gimli," Aragorn tried again, "this plan is our best chance to—"

"I said no!" Gimli roared. "I will not have it! Aragorn, I will not!"

It was not Aragorn who answered him. "Gimli, be calm."

Gimli squeezed his eyes shut at that voice, as though he could shut-out the words as easily as he did the sight of the narrow, beardless lips from which they had issues; that golden head; those mithril-bright eyes. Fingers as long and spindly as bare twigs closed on his shoulder, their grip tight enough that he could feel it even through his shirt of mail.

"This is our best chance to save Merry and Pippin," Legolas said. "Perhaps our only chance. Gimli, I am not afraid—"

"Can I not be afraid for you, then?" Gimli asked wildly, grabbing those long fingers and holding them tight. He looked up at Legolas, then very quickly closed his eyes again. He pressed the archer's captured hand to his cheek and held it there, as though he might hold the elf back from this reckless plan as easily. "Orcs hate elves so much, Legolas…"

"That is why it has a chance of working," Legolas said. He sounded so unbearably calm, his woodland accent giving his speech the lilting cant of birdsong. He had sounded so strange to Gimli's ears, once. When had that fair voice stopped sounding strange?

"And if it does?" Gimli retorted. His grip on Legolas's hand tightened. "When it does? What then, Legolas?"

Legolas's narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Then we will fight them."

"Then you will fight them, all alone, until we can come to your aid," Gimli corrected him. "Legolas…" His voice failed him and he had to clear his throat twice before he could force the words out. "Legolas, what if we come too late?"

"It is a risk I am prepared to face," Legolas said simply. "And at any rate, Gimli, I do not believe you will. I have more faith in you and Aragorn both than to let myself fear that I will have to face all the orcs alone. And besides!" he continued with a sudden, fey laugh. "Should it not be the orcs who should fear to face my blade and bow? I slew many of their fellows at Amon Hen, and I will slay many more in these sweet green fields if they will but do me the favor of coming within range of my arrows!"

Gimli looked up at the laughing elf in sad, silent horror.

"We will not have to hide ourselves so far away from Legolas that he will be alone for long," Aragorn said, stepping forward to lay his hand on Gimli's other shoulder, the one that did not burn yet with the memory of Legolas's touch upon his mail. "Orcs are keen of smell, but their eyes are not so sharp in daylight, and their ears will have a hard time hearing anything over the thunder of their own feet upon these plains. Besides, Gimli, we have the cloaks given us by the Lady of Lórien; was it not said that they would help to hide us from unfriendly eyes?"

"It was," Gimli agreed heavily. "But these orcs are fast. And what if they have archers among them?"

"What of it?" Legolas shrugged again, scoffing. "I do not fear crude orcish arrows."

"A crude arrow can kill as readily as a finely-wrought one," Gimli reminded him.

Legolas tossed his head, his golden braids rippling in the dawn. "Only if they strike their target."

Gimli gaped at him in exasperation. "Legolas—"

"No, Gimli, I do not ask you to like this plan, but please. Are we not friends now?" Legolas dropped abruptly to his knees in the soft grass, a position which put his eyes nearly on the same level as the dwarf's. It was Legolas who looked up at him now, his pale eyes glittering as sharply as a sword. "Then please, my friend, cast aside your doubts. Trust me to do this."

"I do trust you, Legolas," Gimli responded automatically. "I do not doubt you. But—"

"Then it is settled." Legolas made to stand, to turn away, but Gimli caught him by the arm and held him still.

"But," Gimli said, his voice a stony growl, "I do not like the idea of you making yourself bait for orcs."

Legolas swiveled on his heels, elvish grace keeping him upright despite the sharp tug of a strong dwarven arm yanking him off balance, and stared up at Gimli. The smile he gave the dwarf was small and fleeting, and there was a heavy sadness in the curve of it that reminded Gimli, suddenly and painfully, of the grey woods of Lothlórien.

"I do not say that I like it either, Gimli," Legolas said softly. "But we cannot outrun the orcs. If they cannot be made to pause their march, they will vanish into Isengard with Merry and Pippin and all chance of saving our friends will be lost." He pressed his free hand to Gimli's cheek and gently stroked the downy hairs there. "I would risk a thousand such dangers for the chance to stop that foul fate from befalling those dear young Hobbits—and I know you would, too, Gimli."

Gimli swallowed, but the aching lump in his throat did not dissipate. "Legolas…"

"The fact that the orcs left the field of battle while the three of us yet lived worries my heart greatly," Aragorn said. His voice, too, was quiet, but a dark tension thrummed through his words like the warning rumble of stone on the brink of a cave-in. "That they put their need to carry away their captives over their desire for slaughter and torment…that worries me, Gimli. Worries me greatly."

Aragorn did not have the keen eyes of the elves, but his sharp grey gaze rose over the plains nonetheless and he stared off into the distance as though staring at the shadows of that terrible band of orcs nonetheless. "I do not know if even this will cause them to turn aside from their path…but if anything will entice them to delay their task, it will be the chance to make sport of a lone and injured elf."

"And so I shall play the bait," Legolas said, before he sprang to his feet, the movement too fast this time for Gimli to stop. He looked down and offered Gimli a fleeting, knifblade smile and declared, "And we Three Hunters will see if we can draw the hunt to us!"

Gimli should have cheered; the words were spoken in the sort of tone that rallied hearts and lifted spirits blazing into battle. But all Gimli could see in his mind was the terrible sight of Legolas left standing all alone, waiting for the orcs to come and find him while his friends hid and watched from safety.

"Legolas…"

"Peace." Elvish fingers pressed against Gimli's lips, stopping his words but not his fears. "Give me this chance, Gimli, and I will turn your doubts aside."

"I do not doubt you—" Gimli started to say again, his voice thick and strangled with the heavy feelings of his heart, but Legolas was already springing away, up the short and stony hillock. Gimli watched him go, his steps as light and swift as the flutter of butterfly wings.

"I do not doubt you, Legolas," he said, the words spoken now in a whisper so low that even elvish ears might struggle to hear them now. "But I fear for you."

Aragorn's hand closed on his shoulder again, warm and steady and lacking the silver-fire touch of Legolas's smooth brown skin. "Come," he said softly. "Let us get under cover, Gimli."

Gimli allowed himself to be drawn away, but his feet scuffed heavily on the uneven grass as he turned to stare behind him at the silhouette of Legolas standing tall and thin against the dawn, pale cloak and golden hair streaming out behind him. He made a fine target for arches up there, Gimli thought sourly; a fine target indeed.

Legolas drew his white knife, and Gimli turned away. He knew that the scent of elvish blood would be needed to draw the orcs' attention; knew further that only with the wind blowing strong and swift towards their quarry did this mad plan have any chance of success, and so he cursed the breeze. Had it only died or shifted, Aragorn and Legolas would have been forced to give up this chance; would have had no choice but to simply run instead, run until they dropped perhaps and even yet fail—but run together, rather than risking Legolas's life alone.

Gimli could not bear to watch Legolas take his blade to his own arm, spill his own blood, to lend verisimilitude to his role as bait; yet he fancied he could hear the sharp glide of knife over skin nonetheless, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight and let Aragorn lead him, stumbling, to the hollow in which they would hide together while Legolas stood out there, tempting danger, alone.

They huddled in their grey cloaks, hands on weapons and breath in their throats, and waited.

And then—and then Legolas screamed.

Gimli started upright, his own breath drawing in for an answering cry of rage and vengeance, but Aragorn grabbed his arms and held him fast. "No, Gimli!" he hissed, hauling the dwarf down bodily back into the small depression in the earth. "No, he is not hurt. This is the lure, Gimli! This is the plan. Be still!"

Gimli let himself be drawn back despite the thundering of his heart against his ribs. He pressed one bare palm against the earth, trying to draw strength from the touch of stone against his skin; trying to find the endurance for which the dwarves were so renowned. But he could not stop trembling; could not stop hearing the echoes of that terrible shrill scream inside his ears.

"I have never heard such a cry, Aragorn," he whispered.

Aragorn's grip on his arm tightened. "I have," he said. His voice was low, almost haunted in the shadows of their hiding-hole. "I am sure Legolas has as well, for his people have long fought the Shadow in Mirkwood—and," Aragorn added, swallowing hard as though against some terrible memory, "he could not have sounded so convincing, if he did not know the sound of an elf in torment."

Gimli's gut twisted and he bit his lip hard enough that he tasted a coppery spill of blood across his tongue. "I would that he did not know it," Gimli said hoarsely. He glared up at Aragorn and added in a sharp voice, "I would even more that he should never experience it himself."

"We are not far," Aragorn insisted. "If the orcs take the bait, we will know it; we are near enough to help. He will not stand alone."

"Not for long," Gimli muttered, "but perhaps for long enough." He held his axe very tightly and wished for a whole host of doughty dwarven warriors at his side—or better, at Legolas's side.

Another cry rose, more warbling than the first piercing shriek; more plaintive, like the screamer was weakening.

Gimli's grip on the haft of his axe tightened until his hand ached. "Aragorn…"

"He is not hurt, Gimli."

"Not yet."

Aragorn had no answer for that.

They sat in silence, straining their ears for the pounding thunder of orcish feet upon the earth; waiting to discover if the enemy would take the bait.

Waiting to learn if the three of them would live through it, if they did.

{read more gimleaf stories here}

#gimli #legolas #aragorn #three hunters #lotr #lotr fanfiction #gigolas #gimleaf #well unrealized gimleaf at the moment i suppose #could certainly be read platonically #but that's one of the joys of their relationship anyway: no matter the particular flavor the love never falters #they're every bit as devoted and delighted by one another whether there's a whiff of romance there or not #and i love that about them because there aren't many relationships you can say absolutely do not CHANGE based on whether it's romantic or no #even the ones that start as friendships and stay as friendships still tend to change somewhat if there's romance (or if there isn't)#but not legolas and gimli #you don't even need to decide which it is when you start writing a story with them because you're writing the same story either way #''you comfort me'' indeed #this ship sails itself all the way to valinor #my writing #my stuff

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per1w1nkl3 · 4 months

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k so im rereading the books/listening to the audio books (I swear road goes ever on, on spotiy is so good) but anyway I was thinking of between frodo and sam and listen i love the jokes, love the fanart but as middle-aged-straight-man as it sounds I think I like them better as platonic.

Like the greatest friendship, the strongest bond, they would die and kill for each other, they're the only one each other can trust and at the end of they're journey they alone know what they've endured (well tbf frodo is seriously going through it but eh). let's not forget that romance is not "better" or "above than" anything.

this is especially true in the books, with frodo being older and more upper class than sam.

the movies make the two look and feel closer in age, they change both the dynamic and the characters themselves, making frodo less wise and sam more heroic, when, though undoubtedly set on his good intentions he often comes off as quite childish really. instead we get the forehead kiss (!) we get the cradling his master's body (!) we get the i can carry you (!)

so yes all this to say me personally I like their platonic relationship better, peter jackson tho. he made them gay. idc.

#legolas and gimli tho?#they're together.#anyway yeah this isn't really eloquent but I'm tired and I have a headache #I could talk about lotr and especially the hobbits for hours #lotr #lord of the rings #frodo baggins #frodo x sam #samwise gamgee

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lesbiansforboromir · 7 months

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oh OH hO spicey ohhh having a spicey little tantrum about the boromir tag don't listen to me at all do NOT listen I mean it I mean it this is so petty

#text post #Gonna go ffffucking crazy- people have to bend so far over backwards to make Boromir bad that they just full out ignore his entire characte #and bend even further over backwards to make the elves all better than him too like jesus christ #oh is it BOROMIR who would be bitter about dying in the defense of Rohan??? whose despair is just so self serving and requires legolas to #slap him out of it yes uhuh that seems reasonable seems like BOROMIR would just hate the idea of dying for allies he so clearly loved #when in the full actual canonical scene of his death he dies for two random guys he met five months ago and all he has to say about it is #he failed he is sorry he has paid #BOROMIR definitely doesn't deal well with his own looming death and would definitely snap at other people about it ignoring all the decades #he has been under the looming shadow of death and has been known as not-grim and loved by many and has done his duty almost like #that is literally all his life has been up until this point #and of course of course it's ARAGORN who he's supposed to be fighting for because he's SOO impactful on Boromir's psyche he meant so much t #him apparently ggrsfsfgrrffffggfrgr #everyone wants to hit boromir oh yeah he's so annoying his hopelessness is such a burden and everyone else has to deal with him #if ANY of you go looking for what I'm talking about and do anything about it I'll slaughter you myself these are such inside thoughts the #comic is good #I shouldn't even be angry it's the natural conclusion from a story that tells you Boromir is bad but does not spell out that it's because h #isn't 'faithful' to god #they just tell you he is 'too despairing' and he 'desires power' and he 'doesn't have hope' (hope being a proxy for faith and Boromir not #believing in Aragorn means he doesn't believe in Eru's chosen leaders and his 'grand plan')#despair being a sin because it means you are selfishly giving into your own desires for a good life for you and the people you love #rather than accepting that all is God's plan and this life is only meaningful if you are defending Eru's right to the throne of the world #But that isn't spelled out so for despair to be treated as evil in the story people apply a secular understanding of 'bad despair'#already a TERRIBLE idea btw genuinely awful to percieve hopelessness as a personal moral failing #I suppose thats it actually the major reason it gets to me cus hopelessness and despair is a base aspect of my existence like #I am in despair pretty much constantly and I know a lot of other disabled people with similar sentiments #and the urging from people to 'have hope' is at this point sickening and infuriating and maddening to me it is disconnected from my reality #WHICH is demonstrably why I care about Boromir and Denethor so much no one meets them where they are no one sits in their reality with them #they are deeply relatable in their dealing with dispair namely; they just live and accomplish and strive along with their sarcasm and #black humour through their dark grueling lives and do what duty demands and try to hold onto their crumbling family relationships #and then they each have uniquely cathartic ends to those lives

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legolasghosty · 9 days

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🐑 Alternate Universe- Magic, Mutual Pining, Demonic possession, Furbies

Oh dear...

Alex is attending one of the most prestigious magic academies in the country, on the orders of his parents of course. Even though Laiz Fier Academy reviles even the name of the only type of magic he's ever been good at. His parents swore he'd find another specialty here, and he'd let himself believe them, like the idiot he is. He's scraping by in classes. Barely. At least he's managed to make a couple of friends and figure out how to sneak into the library stacks to find books that will actually help him hone his skills.

However, Alex realizes now there's a reason why it's not recommended to do your first summoning alone. Because, while he does manage to summon a demon, it doesn't exactly end up in the silvery urn he'd laid in the center of the pentagram.

So now he has a talking, demonic Furby to hide. One that, despite its too-wide eyes and disconcertingly smooth voice, Alex thinks he might be developing feelings for.

(Fake fic ask game!)

#legolas tag #legolas ask #julie and the phantoms #willex #so okay in my head #Alex is super good at a specific branch of magic #which usually would be awesome since he was born into a high power magical family #unfortunately the thing he's good at is demonic magic #which is.... unpopular to put it lightly #his parents send him away to school in the hopes that he'll latch onto something else with so many options to explore #that doesn't happen #he meets Luke and Julie (both music magic) and Reggie (animal magic)#and they all become friends #and they all figure out how to sneak into the stacks together #where Alex finds all the hidden away books on demonic magic #cause it's not actually Evil like people think #just... darker in source than most #Alex may fall down a bit of a spiral about his abilities and worth though #and ends up attempting to summon an actual demon to help him learn magic #but... well he must have messed up the binding part of the ceremony?#Cause he does get a demonic magic coach #but said coach (Willie) goes into the Furby Reggie got him as a prank birthday present #and well... Alex knows he should figure out how to undo it and send Willie back to Hell or wherever #but then he has to rush to hide him first before he gets caught #and then they end up chatting a fair amount over the next few days #because Alex is a world class insomniac and Willie just doesn't sleep #but Alex is kept too busy with classes and stuff to go back to the library to find the stuff to sort out the mess he's made #and if Willie knows how to do it he isn't sharing #(he totally knows but it's his first time in the human world in ages and Alex is nice and kinda cute tbh so...)#and...they become friends? And also develop massive crushes on each other?

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scyllas-revenge · 2 years

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How the Fellowship would sit at the Council of Elrond

i’m sick and delirious and don’t know if this makes sense but also i will defend these choices with my dying breath

#push frodo and sam's chairs together so they can cuddle #also gimli and legolas are only sitting like that so they can share a chair #i hear the arguments already that aragorn's posture isn't kingly enough well he's been ranging in the wilderness for a long time #imagine aragorn staring at frodo in the prancing pony just sitting in his corner like #lotr #fellowship of the ring #aragorn #boromir #gimli #frodo #legolas #pippin #hobbits

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antisocialsocialite · 1 year

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saw legolas ship art that wasn't with gimli and was genuinely so shocked i just sat there staring at it, trying to compute what i was seeing. like it wasn't bad or anything but i just...

#like what do you mean gimli isn't there #I was literally shook #lotr #thinking out loud #gigolas #NO HATE #im just so deep in the gigolas trenches #i think i forgot other ships existed #legolas #gimli

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carlandrea · 2 years

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Look. Look. Jirt. You can call Legolas sindarin all you’ve want, but I’ve read your books. you’re a damned liar, jirt

#he calls himself silvan like #three times #put it next to Jirts Weird Rant About How Legolas Isn't a Twink #feat. the least helpful height analogy the world has ever seen #Legolas

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apricusapollo · 2 months

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when marjorie by taylor swift comes on and all of the sudden it's April, the living room is filled with the smell of flowers and candles, everything is painfully quiet and yet as I'm getting ready for my grandpa's funeral, I can still hear the sound of my grandma screaming and sobbing after she found out that her son had died a day prior

#damn #trauma dumping ig #i was just listening to marjorie and trying to write legolas mourn boromir #and i somehow ended up being transported back to the most horrible days of my life #silly; isn't it #crys' rambling

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incorrect-lord-of-the-rings · 2 years

Conversation

My sister: Is there any man who is significantly older than you that you find really attractive?

Me: Oh, yeah.

My sister: How old is he?

Me: 86.

[long pause]

My sister: Is it Aragorn?

Me: It's always Aragorn.

#if you're wondering what her answer is it's tom hiddleston #and probably legolas #lotr #aragorn #this isn't an incorrect quote this is family future history to be passed down through generations

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tathrin · 1 year

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A quick birthday present for @galadrielspeaks

Skipping Stones

Everything was a competition. Gimli could not even recall how it had begun, or when; it seemed as though it had always been that way between them. Legolas seemed to know how it had started, and Gimli believed that because he knew that the memories of elves were sharper than that of other beings, for all that they were so much longer—but sometimes he wondered if Legolas had forgotten, too, and now simply pretended that he knew in order to torment Gimli. Certainly he refused to tell, or when he did he invented some outlandish story that could not possibly be the truth; and then laughed and refused to speak further when Gimli declared the tale false and demanded a true answer.

It could be very frustrating, being friends with a Wood-elf.

It was also the greatest treasure of Gimli's life and he would not have given up that friendship for all the gold and gems of every dragon-horde ever gathered. He was also absolutely going to win the game this time.

"Ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Seven!"

"Very good!" said Legolas. He drew back his arm and threw and they counted together. "Nine to me!" the Elf cried.

Gimli scowled. He bent and searched the lakeshore for several minutes before finding two stones that might do. He weighed them carefully in his hands, turning them over against his palms to learn their angles. Deciding that the larger one was slightly flatter, he set the other down and turned back to the lake. He drew his arm back, squinted at the glimmer of sunlight on the water, adjusted his angle a bit, and then snapped the stone forward. It hit the water and skipped once, twice…six times, ten…

"Twelve!" Gimli crowed. "Ha! Beat that, Legolas, if you can!"

"As you wish," Legolas replied with a sharp, teasing grin. He bent to choose a stone of his own.

Gimli scoffed into his beard. "As though an elf had even half a chance of beating a dwarf at a game of stones!"

"Ah," said Legolas, standing with a smooth white stone in his hand, "but it is not a game of stone alone; it is one of water, too, and the water of this lake knows little of dwarves, I fear."

"And is it my fault, that no dwarf has come here before myself?" Gimli retorted.

"No," Legolas smiled, "and it is most unfortunate for the lake, as well. Yet the result is that the water has a fondness for elves, and has not yet acquired one for dwarves."

"A very pretty tale," Gimli said. "But let us see if there is substance to your words. It is your throw, Elf!"

Legolas bowed in acknowledgement, then snapped the stone out sharply as he stood.

It hit the water and skipped once, twice…four times…seven…eleven…

"Thirteen!" Legolas cried, and faced Gimli with a grin.

"An unlucky number for a lucky shot," Gimli grumbled. He bent over the lakeshore, wandering a little farther down the edge of the water in search of a more suitable stone. The ones nearby had all been picked-over already, and it would not do to let an inferior rock deny him the victory. His eyes fastened on a sleek, dark grey one and he smiled toothily. "We shall see how well your luck serves you now!"

"Go on, then," Legolas challenged.

Gimli raised his chin defiantly, then turned and threw the rock. It skipped once…thrice…six times, nine…twelve…

"Fifteen!" Gimli clapped his hands in victory. "Best that if you can, Legolas!"

"Very well," said Legolas, skipping forward to find a likely looking rock. "I venture that I shall!"

"I venture that you may try," smirked Gimli. He planted his hands on his hips and waited, the very picture of dwarven confidence and satisfaction. Legolas possessed the uncanny accuracy of the elves, yes, but Gimli's strong arm had the power of dwarven muscle behind it, and an innate sense for stone that no elf, not even one of Mahal's chosen students, could ever match. This game was his to win.

Legolas chose a grey rock speckled with green spots. It was long and smooth and fit well enough in his palm that if they had not been engaged in such a vital competition, Gimli would have claimed it in order to carve some token for him later—but this game mattered more than any mere gift, and so he said nothing as he watched Legolas toss the stone a few times in one hand, getting a feel for its flight. Doubtless he hoped that that would help him outdo the dwarf's score, but Gimli thought it a desperate hope and one thoroughly misplaced. There was no way the elf could defeat him now.

He smiled as Legolas stepped forward and curled his long arm back, then snapped it forward in a sharp, quick throw.

The rock hit the water and skipped, then skipped again…again…again…

"Twenty-one!" cried Legolas.

Gimli's mouth fell open. "Impossible!" he cried. "Something—there was something wrong with that stone! It cannot have skipped twenty-one times!"

"Would you like me to go find it, that you may inspect it more closely?" Legolas teased. He danced forward towards the water, as though he had every intention of diving in to search for the lost rock.

Gimli scowled at him. "No," he blustered. "There is no need for that, for I shall simply outdo your throw."

Legolas's eyes glittered. "Then do so," he said.

Gimli harrumphed under his breath and stomped off to look for a better stone. It took several minutes of searching before he could find one that met his standards and Legolas hovered at his heels as he searched, laughing in his light elvish voice while Gimli pretended not to hear him over the gentle whisper of the waters.

He hefted his chosen rock and eyed the lake with care, judging the balance of his stone; judging the glimmer of the sunlight on the water. Finally he was ready; finally he released the stone. It flew strong and true, skipping once…twice…seven times, eleven…fourteen…seventeen…

"Ahhhhh!" Gimli growled in defeat, while Legolas cried out in victory. "Nineteen! Alas, I am undone; a dwarf, defeated by an elf in a game of stones! Shave my beard and dock my ears to narrow points, I am undone!"

Legolas laughed and draped himself across Gimli's shoulders while the dwarf mock-raged over his defeat. "Ah, my dear, perhaps it is the stones that have betrayed you; but I say again, I think it is the water which does not yet know dwarves well enough to appreciate you as it should. Come," he said, and leaned down to kiss the round curve of Gimli's ear, "leave these lovely ears uncut and let your beard stay soft and long and thick; they do not deserve your wrath, and I would be grieved to see harm come to any one of them. Let us introduce you to the water, rather; then perhaps the next time, the lake will not be so quick to favor my throws against you!"

"Oh, very well," Gimli sighed. "I have lost, after all; and I owe you the forfeit."

He growled and grumbled as he unlaced his tunic and kicked off his boots; undid his belt and untied his braies; yet the grousing was all charade, for Gimli could not help but preen beneath the sharp gaze of his elf as Legolas made no pretense of doing anything but delightedly drinking in the sight of his dwarf disrobing.

Dwarves were much more modest than flighty, feckless Wood-elves. Legolas enjoyed the feeling of both sunlight and starlight on his bare skin, lying openly upon the grass or tucked beneath no more solid covering than the swaying leaves of some friendly tree. (Gimli often suspected that he would swive bare-arsed in the very branches of a tree, had he a partner who was less inclined towards falling out of them!) Meanwhile Gimli preferred to go unclothed as little as possible unless he had sturdy walls and a solid ceiling about him, or the heavy curve of a cave's heart to shelter his nakedness.

Dwarves were made underground, and awakened underground; that is the place where we are meant to bare ourselves; not beneath the gaze of stars and sun, which have ever been disinterested in our strong beauty! he often chided Legolas.

If they are disinterested, Legolas would reply pertly, it is only because you have so thoroughly hidden your splendor from them that they are unaware of how neglected their sight has been; and how can you fault them that when you are the ones who persist in such concealment?

Hence the game of stone-skipping before their swim; hence Gimli now stripping himself fully bare before following Legolas into the cool, clean water.

"Ah!" Gimli yelped. "It is colder than I thought!"

Legolas laughed. "It is fed by a mountain stream, after all! I thought a dwarf might like that?"

"Mountains, yes," Gimli replied. "The ice that covers their tips, not so much."

Legolas laughed again and slipped beneath the lake's gleaming surface like an otter.

Gimli grumbled, but he did not try to hide his smile as the elf cavorted lightly around him. Snatches of song rose in between the splashes, and Gimli snorted. Only an elf would try to sing and swim at the same time—and only an elf would succeed at such nonsense without swallowing half the lake in the doing! Foolish, lovely creature.

Gimli paddled out into deeper water then turned, easing himself backwards into the gentle embrace of the water. He floated on his back, half-dozing, his eyes lidded against the golden glow of the sun. The water was not so cold now that he had gotten past the initial shock of it against his skin, and dwarven blood ran warm; he was comfortable, with the sun overhead and the lake pooling smooth around him, almost as comfortable as though he lay on soft furs before a roaring fire.

Admittedly, it was more pleasant to swim without the dragging weight and bunching folds of sodden cloth around his waist—but that was an admission that he would make only to himself, and never where Legolas might hear him. Dwarves have their pride, after all.

A spout of water splashing over his face interrupted Gimli's pleasant doze and he surfaced, sputtering and thrashing about wildly in an attempt to catch the source of the sudden wave. His hands met only empty water; beneath the tumult of his splashing he heard the silvery peel of elven laughter quickly retreating away across the lake.

"Curse you, Elf!" Gimli bellowed. He spat water from his mouth and growled.

Legolas only laughed; after a moment the laughter cut-off with a sharp splash as the elf ducked out of sight below the water.

Thrusting sopping copper locks out of his face, Gimli squinted at the smooth surface of the lake. There was no sign of Legolas, but he would have to surface soon enough; this lake might favor elves, but it could not turn its water to air and Legolas could only hold his breath so long. Gimli treaded water slowly, his eyes searching carefully for any sign of a slender submerged body. It would not be long before…

Ah! Gimli thought in triumph, and swung his arms out wide before bringing his broad palms together, sending a mighty splash directly into Legolas's face as his golden head breached the surface of the water. The elf yelped and sputtered, flailing backwards.

Gimli smirked. "It seems you were right after all," he observed mildly. "The lake has indeed learned to favor dwarves."

Legolas flipped heavy golden strands out of his eyes and scowled damply at him. He looked now more like a half-drowned rat than a mighty elven archer. Gimli snickered.

"I bring you a gift, and this is how you repay me?" Legolas groused. "Ai, cruel Dwarf!"

Gimli snorted. "A gift?" he repeated. "You call nearly drowning me a gift?"

"No," said Legolas, and scissored over through the water. "I call this a gift," he said. He pressed a soft kiss to Gimli's lips and something small and flat into his hand, and then he slipped away again beneath the waves.

When Gimli looked, he saw the green-speckled stone cupped gently in his hand. He could not help but smile.

#it's your twenty-first so i thought you deserved a quick little flicker of a story #i don't actually know if you live in america or not so maybe 21 isn't actually a big deal where you are but oh well #happy birthday!#legolas #gimli #gimleaf #lotr fanfiction #gigolas #my writing #galadrielspeaks

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sunnys-day · 9 months

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New Story!

She was just trying to have a real life. A life where there were no summons, no war, no death… just… peace. A life she'd found in a tiny town under the shadow of a great mountain, with a man and 3 children that she loved enough to give up her immortality for. A life that is threatened when a summons comes from someone she cannot refuse and throws her into the middle of a story she never wanted to be a part of.

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This is a Hobbit AU Fanfic and I am posting it here on A03 and here on Wattpad. The only reason I don't post on Tumblr is because I'm still not entirely sure how to make a Masterlist. This is my third BIG multific I've posted and I'm so proud of it, I hope you like it.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊

**My name on both those sights is different to this one so please don't think you're on the wrong page. My name on here used to be TatteredSoul_88 but I changed it for personal reasons.**

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legolasghosty · 8 months

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Yeah @innytoes has captured me with fae magic and now I'm hooked on her Kidnapped by the Fae AU so... I'm sorry.

Alex couldn't sleep. Like he actually physically couldn't fall asleep. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago. Even Willie had drifted off on the couch, their breaths coming out in little adorable hums. But Alex couldn't drift off, no matter how hard he tried.

When he closed his eyes, all he could see were the dark trees, the twinkling lights, the swirling figures, the constant demands for faster, Faster, FASTER! as his hands flew over the drums. And his own body, helpless to do anything but obey. To serve his master. With pure devotion and without question.

Each time the fae went to sleep, Alex never could. The feeling of suddenly having control of his own limbs was too odd. Too unfamiliar. Too much.

And now it was like that all the time. If he wanted to stand up, he could. If he wanted to stay exactly where he was, no invisible strings stopped him. It was incredible. It was freeing. It was terrifying.

Because with no one to tell him what to do and where to go, no intangible hand on the back of his neck directing him, how could he know if he was doing it right?

The Molinas had been kind so far. They'd allowed them to live in their garage, eat their food, even loaned them some of the father's old clothes to wear. They'd shown them the magic of new technology, though that wasn't always the smoothest lesson. Alex grimaced at the memory of when sparks had suddenly begun to fly from the microwave because Luke had put that...tinfoil? stuff inside with his food. The Molinas had been upset but hadn't hurt them over it. They'd been kind. But the fae had been kind at first too.

At first, Alex had wondered if he'd died, alone in the forest, and was in some form of afterlife. He was offered food and fine clothing and music by the effervescent beings that inhabited this new plane. They'd enjoyed his drumming and hadn't seemed to mind when his eyes drifted to a young man with dark hair and a smile that made Alex's heart skip a beat.

They had been kind and welcoming to him. Until he made a mistake.

Things changed after that. Who was to say that wouldn't happen again? That the Molinas wouldn't run out of patience with him and he wouldn't become a prisoner and an outcast yet again.

Alex knew it would happen. It had happened with his first two homes, why not this one? So if he wanted to stay here, with his family and his lover, he couldn't make any mistakes. Couldn't give them any reason to throw him away like the used toy he was. But how could he know what was wrong if no one was directing his every move?

He couldn't. So he was doomed.

"Alex?"

Alex jumped, almost losing his footing on the dark tiles of the house roof. He whirled around to see Julie, the girl who had first found them, staring at him through an open, second-story window.

"What are you doing out on the roof?" she asked, blinking rapidly.

Oh. Well, this must be it. Alex thought he could hold out a bit longer.

"I'm so sorry, I know I shouldn't be on the house," he said quickly, holding out hope that maybe she would at least let him stay till morning. "I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake anyone and I knew there weren't any bedrooms around here so I just... I'm sorry-"

"Woah, slow down," Julie said, cutting him before he could say anything else. "No need to be sorry, you're not doing anything wrong, I just... wasn't expecting to see you sitting on the roof of my house at 3 am."

"Oh," Alex said, because he wasn't sure what else to say. She wasn't upset?

"Also, I know you have the whole-" Julie waved a hand around helplessly, "-magic thing going on, but hanging out on the roof isn't exactly the safest spot."

Alex shrugged. "I didn't think anyone would care," he replied honestly. Willie might be a little sad if he fell off the roof and broke his neck, but they'd get over it. There were so many people in the world to love, Willie wouldn't be alone for long.

Julie frowned. "Of course we would care if you got hurt," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You did see how freaked my dad got the other day when Reggie burned himself on the stove, right?" She took a deep breath, then added, "You guys may not have come into our lives in a very...traditional way, but you're family now."

Alex was helpless to do anything but stare at her. Because, well, 'family' by blood wasn't something he had much respect for, but the way she said it felt more like when Luke called them that, back before they escaped. Like it actually meant something real.

"Note to self, Alex has even bigger trust issues than I thought," Julie muttered around a yawn. Then she offered him a hand. "Come on, we can crash on the couches downstairs and watch a movie or something. Just chill out for a bit."

It felt like a trap. A personal invitation into someone's space had always been a trap in the fae realm. But...maybe that wasn't how it was here? At least not with Julie?

Alex bit his lip, but accepted her hand and clambered in through the open window.

"Come on, I need to show you Dirty Dancing," Julie decided, keeping hold of his hand as she closed the window and led him downstairs. "I think you'll love it!"

And Alex did. Or at least he loved the first 30 minutes of it that he was awake for.

#legolas tag #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #kidnapped by the fae au #I am very sorry for how angsty this got #dang that was NOT what I had in mind #but uh... yup Alex has trauma now #not that he didn't already in this au but like...dang #I'm very sorry #in my head this is maybe like 2 weeks after they escape the fae realm?#and Alex has barely slept since that happened #Ray comes downstairs the next morning to see Julie and Alex curled up on the couch together fast asleep #and he's very confused but also not mad about it #he maybe takes a picture and saves it to his #The Fae Children I Accidentally Adopted Settling In #folder #he does not show them this album till probably at least a year or two later #cause fae and capturing their image and stuff is scary magic #so it takes them a while to understand that that isn't the case anymore

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