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frodo-cinnamonroll · 11 months

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Deeper than Fate (Part 2)

Prompt/request: **read part 1 first** As requested by @almost-gabrielle: Frodo wakes up the next night (after part 1) and feels pain while his wound is closing. It hurts him too much so that Y/N goes to get Lord Elrond so he can ease the pain in his shoulder. Frodo asks Y/N to stay with him until morning comes again.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: wounds/injuries, some trauma and fluff

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“Could it be?”

I felt a gentle touch on my cheek, light but warm. Opening my eyes, I saw Frodo, the little halfling I had aided, looking down on me. My head rested on his bedside and I sat in the wooden chair I last remembered being in. I had fallen asleep.

Frodo pulled his hand back as soon as I opened my eyes, wonder in his eyes but also something close to pain.

“You’re awake,” I said, sitting up. “How do you feel?”

Frodo stuttered for a moment. “You are the one in my dream.”

“Dream?”

“What happened?”

I sighed. “You were attacked by one of the Nine, their leader. The blade almost killed you. Had it not been for Elrond you would not have survived.”

“Elrond? Like the Elf from Bilbo’s tales?”

“Yes.”

“You know Bilbo?”

“Of course,” I said with a smile. “He talks of you a lot. I’ve stayed here in Rivendell for the past two or three months and I knew him quite well before then. I am fond of halflings.”

“But . . . how?” Frodo said. “You were in the dream. After . . . after I was stabbed everything seemed hazy and I couldn’t tell whether I was awake or asleep or worse. But you were there, shining as you are now, in the moonlight. Who are you? An elf?”

“Half-elf,” I said. “I’m Aragorn’s sister. I am adopted, mind you, but we are siblings nonetheless.”

“Aragorn?”

“Ah, right. He goes by many names. I believe you call him Strider.”

“Strider! Is he here?”

“I do not know.”

“What is your name?”

“You are full of questions,” I said with a small laugh. “And rightly so considering all that has happened. My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Frodo repeated. “I like that.”

I smiled again, looking at the halfling in admiration.

Frodo shifted and winced, his hand going up to his shoulder.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

“Like fire on the inside,” Frodo said, taking a breath.

A shadow suddenly passed over the open balcony, an owl swooping low and landing on a tree nearby. Frodo flinched and his eyes widened.

“You have nothing to fear here, Frodo,” I said. “You are safe in Rivendell.”

Frodo said nothing and seemed to be shaking. He seemed dazed with a sudden surge of pain. He let his head fall back on his pillow with uneven breaths.

“Frodo?” I said, looking at his face.

“It hurts,” Frodo said in a strained voice. He moaned softly and tears ran down his cheeks.

I placed my hand on his forehead. He seemed warmer than normal.

“Will you let me look at it?” I said.

Frodo managed a nod.

I pulled back his shirt and reached for the bandage. “This might hurt a little,” I said. As gently as I possibly could, I pulled off the bandage but some of it stuck to the raw wound itself and Frodo let out a cry.

“I’m so sorry!” I said, leaving the rest of the bandage. I didn’t have the heart to finish. I stood. “I am going to find Master Elrond. I will be back soon.”

Quickly, I dashed out of the room and found Elrond’s. He was sitting in his library, pouring over a book and some maps.

“Master Elrond!” I said, bowing.

He looked up and smiled. “Y/N, what is it?”

“It’s the halfling. He is awake but in much pain.”

Elrond face became more solemn and he stood with a nod and followed me back to the room. Frodo lay there as he was before. It was now that I noticed the Ring on the chain around his neck. I paid it no heed after that, however. Elrond bent over Frodo and put his hand on his head as I had. Frodo watched him with wide eyes. Elrond gently continued pulling the bandage off. Frodo let out another cry followed by more tears and he reached for Elronds arm with his right one. His left one was still limp. I sat on the bed and grasped his hand in mine.

“It’s going to be alright,” I said. “Elrond is helping you. There is only a little left.”

Frodo whimpered, still stricken by the pain that wasn’t easing. “Please” was all he could manage to say.

I picked him up in my arms and held his head to my chest.

“Shh,” I said, rocking a little. “It will be alright.”

Elrond finished pulling the bandage off and brought some of the oils he had used earlier. He gently applied them, Frodo still grimaced and flinched, but he didn’t fight. As Elrond finished, he whispered an elvish blessing over Frodo and the halfling relaxed. Finally, it was done and Elrond applied another bandage.

“You will be alright Master Baggins,” he said. “Your wound is healing quicker than I had thought. The poison is still leaving the wound. That is what is causing you all this pain. But it should be closed and healed by tomorrow. This is the last bandage you will need.”

“Thank you,” Frodo whispered. I could tell he was fighting the exhaustion. “You are welcome,” Elrond said with a small bow. “Get some rest for tomorrow.” He nodded once in respect and left the room.

I looked at Frodo who sat up, leaning against me. His eyelids were getting heavy.

“I should probably leave now.” I said quietly.

Frodo stirred. “No, please stay,” he said.

“I won’t be a bother to you. You need rest.”

“I will rest better if you are here,” Frodo said. “I know I have only just met you but I am fond of you already.”

I shook my head with a smile. “I am fond of you too. Alright, then. But you must rest. No more talking.”

Frodo nodded, laying his head on my chest. Almost instantly his eyes were closed and he relaxed fully, a small smile on his face. I caressed his curly hair, kissing his head gently.

“Gandalf was right,” I whispered, smiling to myself. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

And there I sat until morning came, with someone who was brought to me by something deeper than Fate.

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mxliv-oftheendless · 23 days

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How to Set Up Your Actors (Without Really Trying) (Barduil Month Week 1)

Actor AU: In which Thranduil and Bard are costars for a film and Bilbo is, as usual, rather confused on what's happening and very annoyed by everything.

It's Barduil Month! So I thought I'd participate and write some stories for a ship I love! This one was inspired by this Barduil comic drawn by the amazing @corndog-patrol ! Thanks so much for letting me write a story based on the comic! And thank you @bi-widower-dads for setting up this whole event! Hope you guys enjoy!

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When Bilbo’s phone vibrated the moment he sat down at his desk, it should have been a tip off of how the next hour would go. But since Bilbo was a very busy man (Valinor Talent Agency didn’t run itself, after all), who already had quite a lot to do, he elected at first to ignore it. Instead, he focused on opening his calendar and checking to make sure That Meeting was indeed today and he was ready for it. Sure enough, it was there, today at eleven o’clock, so in about twenty minutes.

He sighed and pulled out the drawer containing his emergency stash of headache medicine. He looked at it for a moment, contemplating whether he should be—

His phone vibrated again. He turned it over.

—whether he should be proactive and prepare for a potential headache. Anything was possible, especially when Bilbo didn’t feel awake and caffeinated enough for anything. Which usually ended up being all the time. Maybe he ought to see someone about that.

His phone vibrated yet again. Bilbo huffed and turned to pick up his phone and see what so desperately wanted his attention. What he found was a series of angry text messages from dear cousin Lobelia screaming in a flurry of poor grammar and an excessive use of capital letters. Nope. He was not dealing with that.

There was a series of smart, rapid knocks on the door. “Come on in,” he called as he set his phone down.

The door opened and Thranduil Oropherion swept into his office. Yes, that Thranduil Oropherion—professional stage and film actor, known for his cool professionalism, sharp wit, insightful intelligence, and fashionable dress. And also for his long blond hair that he refused to cut. Thranduil Oropherion also happened have one Bilbo Baggins as his talent agent.

Any lesser man may have been intimidated at the prospect of being the agent of such a high profile and equally high maintenance actor. But Bilbo Baggins was no ordinary man—even if he did often wonder why Thranduil refused to cut his hair when he was usually pretty reasonable about other things.

“Good morning, Bilbo,” Thranduil greeted as he sat down in the chair opposite the desk.

“Morning, Thranduil,” Bilbo returned. “Early as usual, I see.”

“I had to be,” Thranduil sniffed. “Have you seen the traffic this time of day?” He raised a hand to inspect his immaculately done nails. “Couldn’t this meeting have been scheduled at a different time?”

Bilbo sighed. Maybe he should’ve taken the headache medicine after all. “Well, it was the best time for everyone to meet,” he said. “Now, once your costar gets here, we’re going to take an hour or so for you both to get to know each other, then we’re going to the conference room for the Zoom call with the screenwriters to talk about the script—”

“And the director? Where is he in all of this?” Thranduil frowned. “I had hoped he would be here as well. I would like to discuss certain things about the script with him.”

Bilbo turned his phone facedown as it buzzed again. “The director had to call off. He’s meeting with the production company.”

Thranduil’s frown deepened fractionally. “Very well.”

He was sure he would regret asking, but Bilbo still ventured anyway, “What’s wrong with the script?”

“Well first of all, there is a clear lack of vision for the characters. Are my costar and I to be playing one-dimensional stereotypes? There is no buildup or suspense for what is supposed to be a horror plot line, and the horror relies solely on cheap jumpscares rather than any actual fear or dread.”

Now, listen, Bilbo wanted to be more annoyed at these critiques. He was sure any decent screenwriter or director would be. But personally, he just thought to himself that this was why Thranduil was such a professional and well-respected actor—he was knowledgeable not just on how to act but also on all other aspects of a production.

However, he did still think Thranduil was being a bit unfair. “I thought the script was good. Maybe it’s just a bit jarring to you since you haven’t played a protagonist like this one before.” From how Thranduil frowned but didn’t respond, he knew Thranduil knew he had a point. “Which is another reason why it’ll be good to meet with your costar and the screenwriters, since then you can get a better sense of what they want from the part you’re playing. And your costar has done more roles like yours, so he can give you some insight too.”

At the mention of his mysterious costar, Thranduil thankfully dropped the subject of the script. “Where is this costar, anyway?”

“On his way here, most likely.” Maybe that was why his phone kept vibrating, because the costar was calling him. But no, that was his personal phone that was buzzing…

“What is his name… Bard Bowman?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“What has he been in recently?”

“His last film was—hang on, you didn’t look into him at all?”

Thranduil sniffed. “Of course not. I’m a professional.”

From how long they’d known each other, Bilbo knew that meant Thranduil thought that would feel too weird and he didn’t want to seem strange for stalking his costar’s filmography. He went on. “Well, his last film was a part in some fantasy film—”

“You mean you don’t remember?” Thranduil quipped.

Bilbo just gave him a snarky smirk. “Of course not. I’m a professional.” He continued. “And then for the last year and a half he’s been on a break. Wanted to spend more time with his kids, his agent said.”

To his dismay, Thranduil’s frown appeared again. “His agent is from Dale Talent, isn’t he? Didn’t they come out of the complete cesspool of corruption that was Laketown Talent?”

Bilbo couldn’t help wincing at the name, and his phone buzzed again as if in agreement. That whole scandal had not been pretty. “They did. But Dale’s model is ethical, they pay their taxes on time, and none of their staff have evasion, public disturbance, or harassment charges. Plus their tea was pretty good.” He glanced at the clock. Five more minutes until eleven. “Right, he’ll probably be here soon. Be nice, alright?”

Thranduil gave him an indignant look. “I am always nice, Bilbo.”

“Not backhanded, passive-aggressive nice. Really nice. And that goes for when you’re meeting with the screenwriters, too.”

Honestly, sometimes he wondered if that scowl was just permanently attached to Thranduil’s face. “That will depend on what they have to say about their barely-passable-quality script.”

Bilbo could feel a headache coming on. Today was not the day to put up with all of this. “Thranduil, as your agent—” He decided to appeal to the actor’s more reasonable side. “—as your friend—I am really begging you to behave.”

Thankfully, it worked; Thranduil’s scowl softened marginally even as he scoffed and crossed his legs. “Please, Bilbo. I am an absolute joy to work with.”

Bilbo leveled him with a withering look. He amended himself. “Yes, I will be polite.”

Bilbo’s phone vibrated again as he sighed and nodded gratefully. “Good.” His phone buzzed again (what was going on?) but he ignored it and checked his agenda. “Now, he’ll be here any minute. So make sure to introduce yourself and find something you both can talk about. You’ll both be needing good chemistry anyway—”

“Why would we need good chemistry?”

Oops. He shouldn’t have said that. Bilbo maintained his cool as his phone buzzed again. “There’s going to be some romance—”

Thranduil’s eyes flashed. “The script did not call for a romance, Bilbo,” he said tensely, the sort of tense calm one would find in a very, very small eye of a hurricane.

Bilbo, however, was not intimidated. “Some things were reworked. You two are going to have a romance plot line. Did you not get the revised script?”

“No!” Thranduil leapt to his feet and paced angrily. “Unbelievable!” he ranted. “What is that hack director thinking, doing such a last minute change? Are we film students in graduate school? Is that what this is?” Bilbo’s phone vibrated again. “And where is that constant buzzing coming from?!”

“It’s my phone,” Bilbo grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m not the one who made the changes—”

“Obviously not, because you know better!” Thranduil whirled around on him in a mess of fury and blond hair. “A last minute change like this is unacceptable! Call that director! We need to discuss—”

Bilbo was seconds away from faceplanting on his desk, when there was a knock on his office door. “‘Scuse me?” someone called from outside.

Bilbo checked his wall clock. Eleven o’clock. He shot Thranduil a glare clearly meaning “Behave,” before saying aloud, “Yes? Come in.”

The door opened, and Bilbo’s headache throbbed a bit more when Bard Bowman politely entered the room. Just great. “Good morning,” Bard said politely. “Are you Mr. Baggins?”

Bilbo tried to arrange his face into a look that didn’t suggest he was one more inconvenience away from throwing something and nodded. “I am, yes.”

Bard’s face split into a grin. “Great!” He came over with an extended hand. “I’m Bard. Glad to finally meet you.”

In spite of the day, Bilbo returned the smile as he shook Bard’s hand. At least Bard’s friendly reputation was true. “And you. You’re right on time.” He turned to Thranduil, hoping at the very least that Thranduil still didn’t look like he’d nearly thrown a diva tantrum a second ago. “Thranduil, your co-star, Bard Bowman.”

To his surprise, Thranduil looked far from angry—he was staring at Bard with an almost… awestruck look on his face. The look reminded Bilbo of the look his nephew Frodo would get when he was staring at the anime characters he thought were especially hot.

Bard, on the other hand, didn’t seem to realize that was Thranduil’s look. He just smiled even wider and happily went to offer a handshake to Thranduil. “I can’t tell you how great it is to be working with you,” he said eagerly. “Your work is just amazing. Really, it’s an honor.”

And then Thranduil did the most unexpected thing: he smiled. And not just any smile, but the charming one he saved for interviews and red carpet reporters. “Please,” he replied, taking Bard’s hand, “the pleasure is mine.”

Really, if Bilbo didn’t have such a headache, he probably would have been flabbergasted by Thranduil’s rapid change of attitude. But as it was, the most he could give was a raised eyebrow. “So, Thranduil, do you still want to talk to—”

“No.”

“Alright then.” One less thing to do, at least. Although he probably would be having a word with the director about letting people know about last minute changes. But he could worry about that later, when he had gotten some coffee and ibuprofen tablets. “Well, how about we get started with—”

His phone vibrated yet again, and this time, it didn’t stop. Bilbo sighed in frustration. “Hold on.” He picked up his phone and looked to see who was calling. It wasn’t a number he remembered saving in his phone… But when he looked at the area code, he suddenly remembered when Drogo told him he’d put Bilbo down as one of Frodo’s emergency contacts at his middle school just in case.

He held up a finger to Bard and Thranduil and left his office to answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Uncle Bilbo.”

What the— “Frodo?” Why was his eleven-year-old nephew calling from his school's phone?

“Can you pick me up from school? Mum and Dad are both at work.”

Was that what all the texting had been about? “Why do you need to be picked up? What happened?”

“I, uh… got into a fight with Lotho…”

“YOU WHAT—” Bilbo glanced at his office door and lowered his voice. “You what?!”

“It wasn’t my fault! He was bullying Tom Cotton and—”

Bilbo’s headache throbbed and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Actually, Frodo, don’t. Explain it when I get there.” He checked his watch and calculated how long it would take to pick up Frodo and come back. Yes, he could manage it. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do not do anything until I get there.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bilbo!”

“You’re welcome. Be there soon.”

Bilbo hung up and rubbed his forehead, then went back into his office. Bard and Thranduil had sat down on Bilbo’s couch, talking about something, with Thranduil sitting far closer than Bilbo had expected. “Excuse me,” he said.

The two actors looked up at him. “Everything all right?” Bard asked.

God, he wished. “Sorry about this, but my nephew called and I need to pick him up from school. His parents are both at work.”

Thranduil smirked, and Bilbo had no doubt he was wondering what Frodo, who was usually such a well-behaved child, had done to be sent home from school. He could not let Frodo tell him; Thranduil would probably buy him ice cream. Bard on the other hand nodded in understanding. “I understand. I can reschedule, if you like. My kids are in school too, so I’m pretty open most days.”

“Actually, it won’t take long, about twenty minutes, maybe, so why don’t you both get something to eat?”

Thranduil smoothly interjected. “I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he said, giving that charming smile to Bard again (and did Bard shift and smile a little back, or was that Bilbo’s headache muddling things?). “Have you been to the cafe downstairs? They serve excellent coffee.”

Bard smiled at him. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Well, that just will not do. We can eat and,” he smiled coyly, “get acquainted while Bilbo fetches his nephew.”

“Well, that sounds perfect.”

Bilbo wondered if he was supposed to feel like a third wheel right now. “Right, well,” he awkwardly went over to his desk to grab his keys. “Good. You two, get to know each other, and I’ll be back soon.”

As he left the two to… whatever was starting to happen between them… he looked at his phone again to see what all the vibrating earlier had been about. It turned to have been several more very angry text messages from dear cousin Lobelia, ranting and raving at him about how Drogo and Primula were raising a violent, wild child and he needed to stage an intervention so that Frodo wouldn’t attack her dear, sweet Lotho ever again. Ah, so that was what all that was. Frodo must have won that fight against Lotho.

Bilbo sighed and rubbed his forehead. He wasn’t sure what just happened or what he had just done for Thranduil and Bard back there in his office, but either way, he still had a feeling Thranduil would get Frodo ice cream for something today.

#barduil #barduil month 2024 #the hobbit #thranduil #bard the bowman #bilbo baggins #the hobbit fanfiction #actor au #idk how good my writing is but i thought this idea was really funny so #poor bilbo needs a vacation lol #also a cameo by frodo because i love him #if you guys were wondering what happened lotho tried to fight frodo and frodo beat the crap out of him lol #and inadvertently allowed for some romance to start developing lol #fanfiction #writing #my writing #lord of the rings #tolkien

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