#and rohan shall answer (requests)
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runawaymun · 1 year ago
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A little while ago I sent in a request for platonic elrond x reader where reader's twin twin sister died & he knows that kind of pain & he comforts her. Just wondering if you got it? Totally not rushing but ik tumblr eats asks sometimes. Sorry to bother you ❤️
hi there! i hope you're doing okay
I have it :) i am just pretty slow with any requests these days. Thank you!
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elvish-sky · 4 years ago
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All that Matters is that We are Together {Aragorn x Reader}
Requested by @lamikahn on Tumblr: Aragorn x reader where he falls in love with the main character who is also a part of the fellowship and a ranger during their time together. Thank you so much for even considering. Much love❤️
A.N: Y’all know how much I adore writing fight scenes. I kinda had a very specific idea for this one and just ran with it. I really hope you like it!
Word Count: 1,205
Pairing: Aragorn x Reader
Summary: You, a Ranger who has been with the Fellowship since Rivendell, want to go with the armies of Rohan to aid Minas Tirith, but Aragorn fears for your safety if you do.
Warnings: Angst, sparring, some kissing.
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All that Matters is that We are Together {Aragorn x Reader}
Your sword crashed against Legolas’ dagger, echoing across the sparring ground as you whirled and blocked Gimli’s axe stroke. You had asked to spar with them today to take your mind off of the upcoming ride to Minas Tirith, and war against Mordor. You weren’t sure if you would be allowed to join them, just because you were a girl, even though you had journeyed with the Fellowship since Rivendell, and were a trained Ranger of the North. You wanted to prove to everyone that you could fight well enough to be included, which is why you had stupidly challenged Legolas and Gimli to a two on one.
Panting, you drew a dagger from its sheath on your thigh and struck Gimli’s axe from his hand, and then spun again to block one of Legolas’ weapons from striking your collarbone. You charged at him and sprang into the air, flipping over his head and landing behind him with your dagger pressed to his throat. As you stood there, you heard the sound of a dwarf in armor clanking behind you. With the hand that wasn’t holding the dagger pressed to Legolas’ throat, you unsheathed your sword again and whipped it around, placing the point under Gimli’s chin.
“Well fought, lass.” Gimli backed away from your sword, hands up. “That was well done, Y/N,” Legolas added. “I can see you’ve listened to my training.” It was just like Legolas to take credit for your skills. You had trained for years with the Dunedain before joining the Fellowship, and felt that they deserved the real credit for your skills. Chuckling at Legolas’ conceit and pleased with yourself, you wiped your sweaty forehead on the hem of your tunic.
A sudden absence of the sound of weapons crashing together announced the arrival of Aragorn, as soldiers ceased sparring to stare at the Heir of Isildur. As he crossed the ground in between the entrance and his friends, the sounds of fighting slowly resumed. Reaching you, he clapped you on the back, slinging his arm over your shoulder, “I saw you best the elf and dwarf. Well done, Y/N,” he complimented you. “Thank you,” you ducked out from under his arm, blushing at his praise. “What say we have a friendly match now?” you grabbed your sword as you challenged him to a one on one.
While you had been able to beat almost everyone you had ever fought, you had never won against him, even after years of trying. However, the odds of defeat didn’t stop you from trying any chance you got. In fact, today marked the first time you had ever beaten Legolas, but you suspected that was just because Gimli had distracted him. You couldn’t blame the dwarf if he had. Legolas was infuriatingly good, which made sense given that he’d had thousands of years of practice, but still, it had felt nice to knock him down a peg, even if it was sheer chance.
Aragorn’s eyebrows rose as you challenged him, but he accepted, and, drawing his sword, waited for someone to count down. “Three, two, one, begin!” came Legolas’ shout. You circled each other, looking for an opening at which to strike. You lunged, but Aragorn batted your sword away with a mere flick of his wrist. He then feinted to your left, drawing your guard away from your right side, allowing him to score a small hit on your shoulder. This feinting and blocking, getting in a touch here and there went on for a while, neither of you willing to fully commit to an attack. You knew each other’s moves and techniques so well that it was hard to do something the other could not predict. Finally, fed up with the dance, you drove him back with a series of quick, short strokes. He countered in turn by raining a bewildering set of blows down on you, making you use most of your strength blocking the blows from above.
As he forced you onto your knees with the strength of his sword, he spoke. “Why did you challenge me? You have beaten Legolas and Gimli, and you are tired. What good does it do to expend your strength like this?” You quickly rolled out from under his blade and shook out your muscles, sword extended towards him as you answered, “I need the practice. We are riding to Minas Tirith tomorrow and I want to be prepared for battle.” Startled by this, Aragorn’s eyes widened. He looked at Legolas with a question in his eyes, and the elf shook his head.
Confused, you continued circling your opponent, and queried, “What is wrong? Why do you make that face?” With a look of sorrow, Aragorn told you, “Y/N, you aren’t coming to Gondor.” “What!?” you exclaimed. “I can fight just as well as a man. You are responsible for much of my training- you should not doubt my skill. I deserve to fight in this battle, even if it is the end.” “No, Y/N. You aren’t going.” Aragorn declared. Furious, you attacked with a renewed vigor, determined to prove your worth. In your anger, you forgot to guard your back and felt the cold steel of Aragorn’s sword press against the back of your neck as he slipped behind you.
Defeated, you sheathed your sword and stomped out of the training ground, seething. You had fought beside them many times, and you did not understand why they wouldn’t let you fight by their sides once more. As you fumed, you heard a shout from behind you. “Y/N, wait!” You spun around, only to be taken by surprise as Aragorn’s lips crashed into yours. Shocked, you pulled back, breaking the kiss. “What is this?” you yelled at him, not caring that you were surrounded by people. “First you tell me I may not go to Gondor, now you kiss me? Aragorn, what is going on?” He grasped your shoulders, making you look him in the eyes. “I’m in love with you, Y/N, and I’m scared. Scared that you would get hurt and I would not be able to save you.” “I can fight,” you said. “I can fight better than many of the men accompanying you tomorrow.” “I know,” Aragorn whispered. “I’m just not willing to take the chance. I couldn’t bear to see you fall.” “And I’m not willing to stay behind and hear of your death, wondering if there had been anything I could do to save you.” He stepped back, looking as if he was about to leave. “I’ve been with you through thick and thin, we’ve faced many dangers together.”
“Let me come, Aragorn. Let me fight this last fight, the last stand of men.” you pleaded, grabbing his hand. “Be careful, my love.” was his reply. “I will be. For I shall be beside you. Nothing would make me want to survive this battle more than the thought that we will fight it together.” He smiled, faintly at this. “All that matters is that we are together,” and he swept you into a kiss, not caring who saw. You were going to fight together, be together, and that was all that mattered.
Forever tag 💖: @boyruins @entishramblings @anjhope1 @itgetsatadhazy
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random-imagines-blog · 5 years ago
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The Way Back {Faramir x Reader Oneshot}
Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3057 Summary: Love can be found in the unlikeliest of places, such as in a war-torn city after a win.
You took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. It felt like you hadn’t had the time to breathe in days. It had been battle, after battle, after battle against Sauron and his forces, ending up in this, the grand battle outside of Gondor. But the enemy had finally been defeated, the last of the orcs crying back to Mordor. You removed your helmet and let your hair fly free in the breeze as the world seemed to catch it’s own breath back. There was still plenty to do, such as tend to the wounded, burn the bodies of the deceased, and begin plans to rebuild the city. There were many fallen on both sides, even though the battle had been won by yourself, and by Gondor. By Minas Tirith. You looked about you, savoring the moment of peace, before plunging yourself into even more work.
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You regretted that you did not attend the last battle at Mordor, but you had a much more pressing issue of helping with Gondor. There was so much here that had to be done, and you put your faith in your three companions. Legolas, your younger brother, who looked so much like you with delicate elfin features, but was a killer with a bow. Gimli, the dwarf that you came to see as a friend and an annoyance in your life, almost like a grumpy old pet, but one who could swing an axe like it was no ones business. And Aragorn, your best friend, a fellow Ranger, who had returned from Mordor and would soon be crowned King. But for now, he left you to care for Eowyn, a woman that he had introduced you to, who had been hurt in the battle. As two female warriors, the two of you struck up a quick kinship. It had been you who had given her a horse to ride among the riders, before you went with your fellowship to hold the dead to their oaths. Your horse, one of the fastest in the world, and the envy of many of the riders, including her brother.
You sat with her in the healing wing, dabbing her forehead gently with a damp cloth.
“I’m barely moving enough to sweat, y/n, there’s no need for this,” She said, trying to wave you away with her injured hand. You shushed her, and put it back down to her side. She looked more fragile than you were used to seeing her. Before, you had seen it in her eyes that she was always ready for a fight, the inner beast in her wanting to come out and growl at the world. A true dragon in pretty colors.
“Would you rather me go and get one of the healers to do it for you? I feel they would not be as good company as I though...” You threatened, and she sighed and allowed you to go on with your blotting. You were not a healer, though you knew a couple of things. Like to constantly check your friend for fever, for the wounds that she had sustained were nasty. She may have stabbed the witch King in the face, but she paid the price for that.
“I don’t like feeling helpless like this. I want to help the healers - it is only a couple of wounds. But no, all they let me do is go for one walk a day among the garden, like I’m some sort of...”
“Woman?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Let us go on our walk then. Let them dare to stop us while we are together. They can try to bully one warrior, but two? I do not think them so foolish.” You took hold of Eowyn’s better hand, and helped her onto her feet. She was eager to be up, and there was a flounce to her step, almost girlish. Sometimes she lamented being a woman, but there was still some femininity to her.
Together you walked out of the healing wing, and out into the open air of Gondor. A lot had been ruined during the war, and was being rebuilt. There were footsoldiers still around, and were helping to guide the reconstruction process. Everyone was helping out - even children, who were spreading the mortar over the walls with their little hands. “Are you going to return to Rohan as soon as you are healed?” You asked Eowyn as you strolled arm in arm, avoiding the places where the most damage had been done.
“After Aragorn’s coronation,” She answered. “I see no sense in returning, just to turn around and come back in a couple of weeks. And with my brother constantly off with the Riders of Rohan, they are going to need a new leader.”
“I see,” You said, nodding. “I’m so sorry to hear about your Uncle, Eowyn. He was a great man, as as I’m sure you knew. And he taught you well, you’ll take his place fantastically.”
“What about you? I remember your father wanted you to return to Mirkwood-”
You shook your head vehemently. “I too will be staying until the coronation. Legolas may be returning but I’m not so quick to leave the scene of one of the greatest battles that Middle Earth has ever known. I’m reluctant to go back...”
“Why?”
“I’m his heir, and he is getting older. I know that he wants me to take up the throne, but I am not Queen material, Eowyn. I belong on the battlefield. That’s where I feel the most comfortable! Not among the rich dresses and the gossip of elfen society,” You opened up to Eowyn, knowing that her, above anyone else, would understand how you feel. “Legolas is better suited as King than I ever would be as Queen. Were it I were born second rather than first...”
“Either way, it would be nice to have someone who is more sympathetic to humans on the throne,” Eowyn said, coming to a halt. You looked at her confused. “There he is - that is Faramir, the new Steward of Gondor.”
You followed her eyeline to see a man, leaning over one of the walls, looking out at the wreckage of the grounds that had been the battlefield. His hair was to his shoulders, a messy light brown - it was a look that many of the human men wore. Aragorn. Boromir -
Of course! This had been the brother that Boromir had mentioned to you during the nights when you two had watch together. But with some more burns upon him than Boromir had ever seen. You had heard of what had happened to him. His own father had tried to kill him.
“Shall we introduce ourselves?” You asked. Eowyn, who was far from timid even while she was wearing a gown rather than armor, nodded her approval.
You approached him together, which did not seem to intimidate him, for he gave you a surprising smile when you reached him. “I hope we aren’t interrupting your thoughts,” You said, pleasantly.
“Not at all,” He inisisted. “I always have time for two of our heroes.”
You beamed down at Eowyn, seeing the little flush on her cheeks. It was amazing seeing her talent be recognized. You were about to praise her even more, just to see if she could go as red as a rose, when one of the healers came running up, interrupting the mood. “You should be resting Lady Eowyn!” She chided.
“But...” Eowyn started, but then gave in rather easily. “Excuse me. I hurt my hand while killing the Witch King. I hope you understand my quick departure.”
You couldn’t stop grinning at her little amount of bragging. She deserved that much. Faramir bowed his head respectfully as the healer took Eowyn away, who was still complaining that she was fine. “Did you receive an injury while doing something important like killing a Witch King?” He asked.
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“I stubbed my toe while taking down an Oliphaunt,” You shrugged, making him grin. You realized while he was doing so that he was actually pretty handsome .. for a human. He had a softer face than both Aragorn and Boromir, the only two humans that you could claim had been your friends. Or still were, in Aragorn’s case. He wasn’t as bristly. And he had very kind eyes. The race of men really was starting to grown on you.
-
Your father had come to Aragorn’s coronation. You had not expected him to. He very rarely left Mirkwood. Not since the Battle of the Five Armies had he ventured anywhere near this far. But the King returning to his throne was a grand deal, so you supposed it wasn’t that out of the ordinary. You stood beside your brother in welcoming your dear friend to the throne, and had managed to position yourself in a way that let you look at the Steward. He stood with Eowyn, who had become as wonderful a friend to him as she had to you. A sister to the both of you, though she needed no more siblings - not with a gruff one like Eomer about.
“When are you going to tell father?” Legolas whispered after Aragorn had passed.
“Tell him what?” You hissed.
“About how you are in love with a human,” He said, smiling widely. You nudged him and he nearly fell into Gimli, but his elf-like reflexes stopped him from doing so. “He can’t take his eyes off of you. Is that why you dressed up today? It is so weird to see you in a gown.”
“Can you please be quiet and enjoy our friend’s special day?” You asked in Elvish. Legolas did quiet down but you kept sneaking peeks over at Faramir. The two of you had gotten rather close in the last couple of months. And you might even think that you had given your heart over to the man, though it was very painful to think about. You would continue to remain youthful for many, many years, barely gaining a wrinkle while this man would grow old, wither, die. Life was cruel that way. Unbelievably cruel.
You saw eyes looking at you behind Faramir, and caught your father’s stern gaze. Your eyes widened, and like a child caught doing something bad, you immediately looked anywhere but your father, pretending to be distracted by the leaves, or the sweet little hobbits.
After the ceremony was a lovely party, which Aragorn did not attend because he went straight into his duties. You could say a lot of things about Aragorn, but not that he wasn’t dedicated to his work. You walked through the party, surprising a great number of people by wearing an intricate Elven gown for the occasion. Most of these people had only seen you in your fighting garb, which looked a great deal like Legolas’s. In fact, on more than one occasion, you had been mistaken for one another. Definitely not on this day, though.
You wandered, before Faramir’s hand lightly brushed against your arm, pulling you into conversation. “You look...” He said, gazing at you up and down, trying to find the words. You decided rather than waste time, you would finish his sentence for him.
“-like a beautiful Elven lady?”
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Faramir said with a grin. He looked bashful, an expression that became him. He could be the most cold, hardened warrior, but around you, he seemed to be a bit more of a bashful mess. It was a very endearing trait. And it was something that brought the warmth right out of you.
“Yes, my daughter is a very beautiful Elven lady,” Your father’s familiar voice said from you behind you. Your eyes said ‘Uh-oh’ faster than your mouth could, and you turned to see him standing there. The blonde hair that the whole family had was gleaming brightly in the sun light. “I’m stealing her for a moment from you, Steward.”
“Of course,” Faramir said with a nod. He walked away with his hands behind his back, having recovered very well from his injuries. You watched as he walked towards Eowyn, and they struck up a friendly conversation. Your two favorite humans - and yet it gave you a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you did not like. You were wary of them being close. You were fond of both of them and you would not be surprised if they became overly fond of one another.
“Is that him?” Your father asked, following your line of sight. You stopped staring, and turned back towards him to give him the respect that he both deserved and demanded.
“Is that whom?” You questioned, your eyebrow arching upwards.
“The human that has stolen your heart?” Your father’s steely gaze cut through you like a knife. So he knew. You looked behind him for Legolas, and once you had caught his eye, you gave him a glare. “Do not blame your brother like you are some sort of child. He didn’t tell me a thing. It is entirely obvious.”
“Do you think that he knows?” You asked, swallowing any denial that you might have had bubbling.
“Since he is an inferior human, I would suppose not.” Your father said, chin held high. “I was going to ask you to come back with me. Take your place as the ruler of Mirkwood. There is a lot of work to be done.”
The happiness that you had felt for Aragorn, and then the slight giddiness that you had around Faramir had dissipated entirely. You were back to the way that the elves usually were. Hard-browed. No emotion showing.
“I’m sure that there is,” You said, not excited at all about the prospect of returning to your home. “And you are sure that you want me to be doing it?”
“As the oldest, it is your duty. Female or not,” Your father said. But he wasn’t catching your eye - he continued to glance over at Faramir. “You have caught his attention most ardently. He will not stop looking in your direction. It almost reminds me of your mother.”
Your heart started to beat in your chest, but your expression did not change. Still, there was a little bit of hope shining through. You tried to catch your father’s eye, but he kept looking away, which was unusual. Usually, he enjoyed looking right into the eyes of the person that he was talking to. It was a power play. And now you were the one who was trying to be the one in power.
“Is there any way that we can postpone it, father?” You asked, trying to make yourself taller so that he could not avoid looking at you. “Just for a few decades? Hardly any time at all - and all of that work will still be waiting for me.”
“A couple of decades? So you can come back after your human lover dies, and take out your grief in your work like I had?” Thranduil asked, tutting. You have never heard him tut before. But you also knew that he had a point. You remembered how he had thrown himself into his duties as King when your mother had died. He hadn’t given himself the proper time to grieve, and his leadership was lack for that. “We’d better give it a century or two. I might be able to finish my own tasks in time for that.”
“Surely - you’re joking? This is the first joke that you make and you decide for it to be this?” You questioned, unable to take your father seriously at this moment. His expression had not changed at all. In fact, now, it looked a little bit angry.
“I do not joke.” He said, glaring at you. “I am trying to give you the opportunity to love.”
You tried to search for any sign of deceit in his eyes, but could find none. He even looked a little ... flustered? Uncomfortable at the idea of talking about love with his daughter? Either way, you weren’t going to pass this opportunity up. You clasped your hands in front of yourself and gave him a bow which he then returned, before sweeping himself away to talk to Legolas, which was always much less about emotions.
You walked back over to Faramir and Eowyn, and put your hand on Faramir’s arm like he had to you just moments before. “May I speak with you for a moment?” You asked him, looking over at Eowyn. The blonde woman gave you a knowing smile, and walked off to speak with Merry, whom she had grown fond of over the war. The Steward of Gondor looked at you, still with that soft grin that you enjoyed looking at so much.
“What is it?” He asked, the grin faltering slightly. You’ve never asked him to talk privately before, and he wondered if something was wrong. But you took that away from him with your own lips, which you softly pressed against his once you were sure you had a little bit of privacy. “My lady?” He questioned, after returning it.
“It is unconventional, but it appears that I’ve fallen for you, Faramir, Steward of Gondor.”
“You have?” He asked, bewildered, but then seemed to regain his senses rather quickly. “I thought you never would. I’ve already resigned myself to growing old by myself.”
“You don’t have to,” You said, taking hold of his rough and calloused hands, giving them a squeeze. “If you will have me, I’d like to be by your side as you grow into a handsome old man.”
“While you stay the same?” He asked, his voice going softer.
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“Yes,” You said with a nod. There was no point in beating around the bush - he would grow old and you would stay exactly as you were. It would be quite some time before you started to look older than you already were.
“My beautiful wife,” Faramir said, leaning in for another kiss. You granted it happily.
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ladyideal · 5 years ago
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Ficmas~ Day 18
Pairing: Eomer x Gender Neutral!Reader
Word Count: 1042
Warnings: religious tone, mention of Canon violence.
Summary: You, Eomer, Eowyn, and Faramir come together to celebrate (C)hanuk(k)ah.
Requested By: @groovyfluxie
A/N: I hope I did this justice. But if anyone wants to correct me on anything, please throw me a message and I'll fix it.
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"Say it slowly again, my love."
You giggled. Teaching Hebrew words to Eomer was becoming a challenge. Sometimes he'd get close, but most of the time his pronunciation was nowhere close. Yet it warmed your heart that the prince would try to learn your religion.
For that, you were grateful.
"Tznuit," You tried once more, fighting the grin off your face as you tried not to laugh out loud. The sun had set over the horizon, and Eomer headed inside after a day of training his men. 
He shook his head. "Elvish seems nothing compared to that beautiful language. Forgive me my love, but I'll keep on learning. I am nowhere near modest though."
"Will Eowyn join us?"
"Unfortunately not, Faramir and her have been joined at the hip ever since they've been wed," He shook his head. "She sent gifts in advance for tonight."
You brightened up at the thought. Eowyn always sent thoughtful gifts from jams to tunics. "I'll thank her on the next package over to Gondor."
Of course, it'd been a little more than a year since the Battle of the Pelennor Fields that made your husband King of Rohan. King Theoden passed on the fields, and without an heir, the crown changed to your then fiancé. Within a year, he was crowned King, you married him, and ruled by his side. 
Eowyn also married Faramir, the last of the family that stood as the Steward of Gondor. The dead were mourned, the injured were treated, and lives were slowly rebuilt back to its former glory. 
Suddenly, a Rohirrim rushed into the hall, breathless as he slid in front of Eomer and you, and bowed. "My Lord, Lady Eowyn and Captain of Gondor have arrived."
Sharing a giddy grin, you bounded out and met Eowyn with a bear hug. "Eowyn!"
"Y/N! Chag urim sameach!" (Happy Festival of Lights.)
You squealed in delight. "You actually learned how to say it! But I thought you weren't coming. Eomer said-."
"Eomer?" She laughed, letting you go and shaking her head. "No, no. Brother wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to let the gifts arrive early or I would forget to bring them along the trip. I thought it would be nice to learn a little Hebrew, even Faramir knows."
“Hanukkah sameach!” Your brother in law greeted. (Happy Hanukkah.)
Both Eomer and Faramir nodded at one another, hugging each other with a one armed hug. 
"We're not late are we?" She peered back at you with a frown. "I told Faramir here to leave earlier."
"No, no," You stepped back to Eomer's side. "Was just about to start actually, so you came just in time."
"Let us change out of our travel cloaks and we'll join you."
Placing the last candle onto the menorah, you took a deep breath. 
"Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah," You started.
(Praised are You,
Our God, Ruler of the universe, Who made us holy through Your commandments and commanded us to kindle the Hanukkah lights.)
"Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, she-asah nisim la’avoteinu bayamim hahem bazman hazeh."
(Praised are You,
Our God, Ruler of the universe, Who performed wondrous deeds for our ancestors in those ancient days at this season.)
With the shammash in one hand, you lit the last remaining unlit candle. Watching as the candle lit up, you smiled as you replaced the ninth one and turned to your small, but happy family.
"I'm starving, anyone ready for dinner?" You grinned, thankful that everyone you loved was alive and well. King Theoden's death was a hard hit on Eomer and Eowyn, and you understood their grief. 
It took a moment for them to shake out of their own stupor. Faramir lost his older brother Boromir to the orcs, and his father on the eve of the battle. Much like your husband, your now sister in law had her own fair share of grief in pain. 
But still thankful for the men that died serving for King, country, and Middle Earth. 
"Before I forget, I brought your favorite jelly donuts too." Eowyn spoke, smirking as your eyes widened. 
"You made sufganiyot?! You're the best Eowyn."
"I know I am," She laughed.
Soon, plates upon plates of latkes, a large pot of brisket stew, and a few dishes of savory kugel were placed on the table. Already you had sneaked in a jelly donut and nearly moaned out loud on how good it tasted. If it wasn't for your husband to literally toll you away from the dessert, you wouldn't have enough room for dinner. 
The challah and pretzels were freshly baked. Even gelfite fish and tzimmes made a show this year, courtesy of Eowyn again. 
"Thank you for coming," You spoke gratefully. "Edoras can be painfully silent without you. When your brother gets busy during the day, I have learned to find a hobby of my own or go out for some gardening."
"Oh don't I know it, Y/N," She teased back, helping herself to another portion of the potato latkes. "Eomer won't ever admit it, but-."
"Eowyn," Your husband cut in, a warning tone present in his voice.
"Oh come on, tell me. If he's already trying to stop you from telling a secret, I would love to know." You grinned, scooching your chair closer to hers. 
"Only if I win the dreidel this year. I don't kiss and tell," She grinned wickedly. 
"You're lucky I managed to make some gelts this year, nearly burned down the kitchen when the cooks messed up the first batch," You paused. "You're on."
"I have a little dreidel. I made it out of clay.
And when it's dry and ready, then dreidel I shall play.
Oh dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made it out of clay.
Oh dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, then dreidel I shall play."
As Eowyn sang the dreidel song, you leaned on Eomer's shoulder with a content smile. It had been a busy day filled with cooking and baking, but everything was all worth it to have the Great Hall filled with warmth and laughter. 
"Y/N?"
"Hm?" You answered. 
"An L’Dodi V’Dodi Li. Chag Sameach, Y/N.” (I Am My Beloved’s And My Beloved Is Mine. Happy holidays.)
Eats Everything: @asraime @aspiring-ginger @bluesclues-1234 @mournthewicked @keijibum @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @also-fangirlinsweden @fandom-imagination-ss @mysoulshideaway @mayday1284 @sayanythingcreations @lykxzandlove @supergeekfangirl​ @your-sparklywinnercollection​
Tolkien: @im-a-muggleborn @fxngsfogxarty
Urban: @fandomsfeelsandfamily @justa-traaash @yueci
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cheemerthelizard · 5 years ago
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Could you write one where reader and Rohan are kind of in a relationship (bc rohan is the biggest tsundere there is) and she’s just the sweetest and nicest while Rohan is more of a sassy douchy guy so he sometimes talks kinda rudely to her BUT if someone DARES talk down to her and make her the slightest sad Rohan will go full protective and defensive on them, thank you!
Ahhhh I’m sorry about the time! Sometimes inspiration doesn’t come to be and it takes a while to write someone’s request, I hope you don’t mind!
“I can’t believe you’ve been dating Rohan this whole time I’ve known you!” Koichi exclaimed. “And just to think I could’ve visited his house long ago if I had known!”
“Well, there’s a reason I don’t tell people that I’m dating THE mangaka, you know,” you chuckled. “I mean, imagine how tiring it would be to have people constantly asking to show them my boyfriend’s home?”
“That is a valid point,” Koichi nodded. “So, no telling anyone?”
“Not a word,” you confirmed. “And, well, there’s another reason I don’t tell even my closest friends sometimes…”
“Why’s that?”
“You see, Rohan likes to… joke around a lot, but it doesn’t really sound like he’s joking around. I don’t want people to think I’m in a bad relationship. Just… whenever Rohan greets me, he’ll most likely be joking with me, understand?”
“I understand,” Koichi answered, still slightly confused.
“Well, we made it,” you said. “Rohan gave me a spare key, so I can unlock the door.”
After using the key and turning the doorknob, you called out, “Rohan, I’m back!”
“Ugh. That voice,” Rohan groaned. “I hoped I wouldn’t hear it ever again.”
“Remember, Koichi, I promise you he’s joking,” you whispered. “He seems really mean, but he doesn’t mean it.”
“Ah, I see you brought a friend with you,” Rohan commented. “This won’t change my behavior, you know.”
“This is Koichi. He’s a big fan of yours,” you told him. “And I know you won’t change.”
“Good. Now that we’re on the same page, please put on some makeup, you look awful.”
“Rohaaaaan.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Rohan leaned in and kissed your cheek. “I’m happy to see and hear you, my beautiful girl.”
“See? He’s only kidding,” you told Koichi, who still looked perplexed.
“Now, I haven’t even greeted my visitor yet, where are my manners?” Rohan bent down to shake Koichi’s hand.
“If you need me, I’ll be making myself some lunch,” you told the boys.
“Don’t you mean making me some lunch?” Rohan asked.
“Not with that attitude, I don’t,” you looked at Rohan flirtatiously, and he returned the expression. “What do you want?”
“Well, I was thinking of treating you today,” Rohan answered. “Don’t make lunch yet.”
When Koichi and Rohan were done introducing themselves, the older man turned back to you. “Well, (Y/N), shall we get going?”
While the two of you were walking around Morioh, many people were flocking around to Rohan, almost shoving you out of the way.
“Please, autograph my photo!” one woman asked.
“Can I get a sneak peek at Pink Dark Boy?” a young boy begged.
“(Y/N),” Rohan whispered. “Use your Stand.”
“You got it.” You summoned Be Somebody, and had it gently tap Rohan. Suddenly, all of his fans stopped crowding around him.
“Why are we crowded around some random stranger?”
“Beats me.”
Within ten seconds, everyone had dispersed, leaving you and Rohan alone.
“Being famous is nice sometimes,” Rohan said, “but other times I just want the world to forget who I am.”
“Is that the only reason you’re dating me? Because I can get rid of everyone’s memory of you?”
Rohan thought about it a little bit, then answered, “Most definitely.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, you’re absolutely hideous. And your personality, ugh! Awful. Don’t even get me started on your annoying voice.”
You knew the one thing that could shut Rohan up, and you did just that. You grabbed his head and pulled it close to you, so much that your lips were touching. You held him there for a little while, then let go. When the kiss ended, Rohan stood there, dumbfounded, for a second before turning to you.
“The kisses are nice, though.”
As you continued your walk, some men walked past you and scoffed.
“That’s the best that guy could do?” one of them muttered to the other, both of them snickering.
You could immediately feel Rohan tense up. You would try to stop him, but you’ve tried tons of times, all ending in failure.
“What did you say about (Y/N)?” he growled, grabbing one of them by the shirt.
“Hey, chill out, man, we were complimenting you.”
“By insulting my precious girl,” Rohan scowled. “Nobody gets away with that, no matter who it is! Heaven’s Door!”
“Rohan, you don’t need to, really.” You tried telling him, but no answer.
“I’ll make it so your insults become compliments and your compliments become insults. You’ll never be able to tell others how you feel ever again! That’s what you get for hurting my baby’s feelings!”
When Rohan was finished, he called back Heaven’s Door, and the two men groggily got up.
“What did you say you’d do to us, you really nice person?” The first one slapped a hand over his mouth as soon as his sentence finished.
“Not gonna lie, dude,” the second one snickered, “that was a little gay, and I completely respect that.” This time it was his turn to slap a hand over his mouth.
“Have fun, boys,” Rohan laughed. “I would say that you should think about what you say next time, but there won’t be a next time.” He grabbed your hand and you both walked off again.
“You… you really didn’t have to be so harsh with that, Rohan,” you muttered. “It was just one little insult. It didn’t even mean that much to me. After all, they were basically saying that a man with looks like yours doesn’t deserve me, and that makes me feel special.”
“Don’t worry,” Rohan smiled sweetly at you. “I put down that it would wear off in 24 hours. But the shock of that curse being for the rest of their lives may make them reevaluate what they say. Plus, you are the best I could do, and I couldn’t be happier.”
“What was that?” You put a hand up to your ear. “Was that… Rohan giving me genuine compliments?”
“I have no clue what you mean, you annoying brat.”
“There he is!”
Despite his sometimes rude behavior, you loved Rohan, and you knew he loved you back. It felt nice knowing that you had someone who would look out for you, and you wouldn’t swap that out for anything else in the world.
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padfootagain · 5 years ago
Text
Sweet Tooth
Here we go for a new fic for my 4.7k event!! I answer the request for an Eomer one-shot made by @absentmindeduniverse​. The prompts that were requested are:
84. "Please, just… hold me. Please, hold me close."
62. "Where are you?"
34. "Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!"
11. "It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."
7. "I WANT MY COOKIES!!"
The prompts are written in italics so you can check that I’ve used them all!
This is very fluffy with a tiny bit of angst. I hope all of you like it!! It turned out very long cause the prompts were hard to get together in just one scene.
Pairing: Eomer x reader
Word Count: 7729
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It was a bright day in the white city.
The pale stones shined under the intense sun, almost-blinding lights hanged to the side of tall and darker mountains, under a perfect blue sky. Before the city, the fields of Pelennor had grown green with the rains of Spring, and the beginning of Summer had not, for now, burnt its delicate emerald coat. The long line of workers carrying goods and stones to Osgiliath as the city was being rebuilt formed, from the top of the Tower of Ecthelion, a trail similar to one made by ants across a forest floor.
The city was busy, buzzing with life like a happy beehive. It always seemed to be so, since the King had returned. A few years after the War of the Ring, and the White City was back to its previous greatness, it seemed. It had become again the centre of the world of men, and had found back some of its grandeur.
Rebuilding lives shattered by Sauron and his evil was a long process, but slowly, life became a little brighter with every day that went buy for the Free People of Middle-Earth.
Rohan and Gondor seemed closer than ever, and it was mostly thanks to the will of their two Kings to help each other in building again a decent life for their people. Tight politics led to both Aragorn and Eomer travelling often across their lands to meet.
It was Rohan's King's turn to stay for a few weeks in Minas Tirith, following Aragorn and Arwen's stay in Edoras half a year before. And Eomer, even if there was no place he would rather be than riding through the Riddermark, had to admit that he quite enjoyed his stays in Aragorn's halls. He always made sure to spend some time in Ithilien as well, visiting Eowyn and Faramir there. And he was so happy to see his sister again, that he didn't mind the long journey he needed to undertake to do so.
He also liked the City in itself. And what was there not to like, really? It was busy and full of life, especially at this time of the year, when the crops were blossoming and the sun always high in the sky.
During his time in Minas Tirith, between his meetings with various leaders of the Free Folks, Eomer had taken into habit to wander through the different levels of the city. He had thus discovered a number of places and hidden alleys that he particularly enjoyed, from a skilled smith to a little park or to a bakery that made the best strawberry cookies he had ever eaten. So famous for its delicacies indeed was the bakery that cakes and cookies had to be ordered a week before to be prepared. But it was worth it, and Eomer never failed to order some of these delicious sweets. Some other representatives mocked him for going through the trouble of going to the bakery himself to order and pick up his cakes, but Eomer didn't listen to such criticism. He enjoyed walking all the way through the twisted streets too much.
Which was why, by this beautiful afternoon, he was basking in the sun while waiting for the baker to hand him the treats he had ordered a week before.
You were waiting as well, for the same reason. You didn't know who the man waiting by your side was, although you had spotted the horses carved in the hilt of his sword, and recognized his clothes as being of Rohan. His blond hair and clear blue eyes also let little hesitation towards his origins. At first, you thought he might have been a merchant, which would have explained how a man of Rohan knew about this bakery, but the sword hanging at his belt seemed to have seen battles, and you wondered if he had been a soldier during the war.
And he wondered about you too, although he was careful at averting his gaze anywhere else but on you. He wondered if you lived in the city, what was your status here...
"I have one order for strawberry cookies?" The baker called in the street.
"Yes!"
You both answered in unison, and you exchanged a glance. But Eomer merely bowed his head.
"I shall take the next ones," he offered.
"Next ones? There are no more of the cookies," the baker frowned.
"It seems that we have both ordered some though."
You showed the baker your receipt, and Eomer did the same. The poor woman was sweating profusely.
"Oh... what have I done? It looks like there has been a mistake... I... I have only enough ingredients for these much..."
"Can one of us can come back tomorrow?" Eomer proposed, but the baker's panic only grew.
"I won't receive strawberries before the beginning of next week! You'll have to wait as much. One of you, at least..."
"Maybe we can share..." Eomer offered.
But you gave him the saddest glance he had seen in a long time.
"I... it's for my sister. She's travelling back here from the coast..."
He heaved a sigh, but easily gave in.
"Well then. I will be back next week," the King gave you a nod, and you beamed at him.
"Thank you, sir."
"My lady," he gave you a short nod, walking away empty-handed while you left in the opposite direction with the precious cookies.
And upon this defeat, Eomer took it upon himself to clear his mind and enjoy the rest of his afternoon wandering across the city.
After a long walk through the busy streets, he sought peace in some of the gardens of the upper levels. He had his favourite spot of the whole city in one of them, a lonely wooden bench set right under the shade of a tall oak tree, surrounded by a patch of grass. The view from the bench stretched beyond the walls and to the fields laying at the mountain's feet, heading North, in the vague direction of his homeland. For even if Eomer was treated more than well in Aragorn's halls and enjoyed his time in the White City, he still missed the wild of Rohan's plains. If he couldn't see them from here, a feeling of reassurance never failed to settle in his chest nevertheless, simply because he turned towards the direction of his home.
But as he entered the quiet area, that was usually empty, he found that there was already someone sitting on the bench that had become so familiar a place to him. And he recognized the intruder in the blink of an eye.
It was you.
The woman from the bakery with the same order as his, he had no doubt about it. You were staring at the horizon, while the sun slowly lowered beyond the mountains, painting the sky with pink and purple shades. And while your gaze seemed lost across the landscape, you chewed on the biscuits you had bought earlier, that Eomer had let you get for your sister.
Only there seemed to be no sister of yours around. And the King would have lied if he had claimed that he wasn't annoyed at the sight that proved that you had lied to his face a few hours before. But instead of getting angry, he merely let out a humorous chuckle, the sound low in his chest. You had played a trick on him, and a rather unharmful one. So, he reckoned that he could play a little trick on you too, for good measure, an innocent one as well.
He silently walked behind you, and waited to be close to you to speak, making you jump in consequence, almost dropping your precious pastries.
"Well… where is this sister of yours then?"
You froze, recognizing the stranger's voice in the blink of an eye. Hard not to, considering the deep and sultry quality of his voice.
He had obviously seen you eating these biscuits, that you had not bought for your sister at all, but for yourself…
You heaved a sigh, defeated.
"I guess you caught me red-handed. What are you going to do, though? Call for the guards?"
He crossed his arms before his chest as he circled around the bench to come stand before you. He looked so tall like this, as you sat on the bench. He was towering you, shoulders broad and chest heaving softly while the ghost of an amused smile tempted his lips.
"I doubt that they will judge the crime worthy of their time. Besides, I did give you the biscuits," Eomer admitted.
"Exactly! You did! And willingly so!"
"You deceived me into forcing this decision out of me though."
"Now, now, now… that is a bit much for just a couple of biscuits!"
"Four biscuits. And the best in all Gondor."
You smiled, amused. Despite his impressive stature, the smile tugging at the corner of his lips made his presence everything but frightening. He didn't seem to be so mad at you, after all.
"What do you want then?" you asked.
"I want my cookies."
His answer was simple and blunt, but you judged it quite fair. You checked the content of the bag. You still had one that had remained untouched.
"Alright, you can have my last one. But that means that I'll get one of yours next week."
Eomer chuckled, but took the offered biscuit anyway.
"It seems fair. May I?" he asked, nodding at the spot by your side on the bench, and you accepted with a nod and a warm smile.
"I'm Y/N, by the way," you introduced yourself properly for the first time.
"Eomer."
"Eomer… that name sounds familiar…" you mumbled, taking another bite of your biscuit. "Oh… isn't that how the king of Rohan is named too?"
He could have cleared the quid pro quo then. He could have corrected your statement and tell you that he was, indeed, the king of Rohan. But you seemed relaxed by his side, and he was worried that your playful mood might disappear if he did so. Instead, he chose to give you an amused smile, and keep the truth for himself. You had lied to him before, he reckoned that it mainly pulled back the world into balance if he lied to you once as well.
He would most likely never see you again after this whole cookie incident anyway, so there was no harm, really, in him forgetting to correct you to enjoy your genuine company for a little longer.
"Yes, like the king."
"Are you from Rohan, then?"
"I am."
"Are you a merchant? Is that why you're in Minas Tirith."
"I am… here to discuss some trades between Minas Tirith and Edoras," he answered, which wasn't a lie. The headache that lingered at the back of his brain from the previous afternoon spent locked in a room with Aragorn to settle on commercial arrangements between their realms was a proof of it. He was simply omitting how important the trades he discussed were.
You gave him a smile, nodding your head in understanding, and he found that he quite liked the sight of the pinkish sun into your hair, and if only to keep on enjoying this sight for a little longer, he reckoned that his lies, or omissions, were worth it.
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Eomer was excited to see you the next week.
There was no other word to describe his state of mind as he hurried to the bakery. And if he was walking there to get the cakes he had ordered, he couldn't deny that by now, he was more interested in seeing you than eating the delicious pastries.
He had spent a lovely time with you that evening, talking for a long time about your family and his home. He didn't reveal his true identity, worried that your behaviour towards him would change if he did.
And after seeing you grin at him as you caught sight of him again, without a doubt waiting for him before the bakery, your form bathed in warm sunlight and your dark blue clothes contrasting with the brightness of the stones that surrounded you, he reckoned that he didn't want to take the risk. For now, his little lie was of small consequences.
Besides, he would probably never see you again after this afternoon.
Or so he thought when it started, at least…
Knowing his love for horses, you accompanied him to the royal stables, your uncle working as a guard there had pulled a few strings to grant you passage. Of course, he had visited the stables many times, his own horse being kept there, but he faked wonder as if it were the first time as his eyes fell upon the elegant pillars that supported the tall arch. The sight of your content smile was enough to clear all traces left on his conscience by his tiny lie.
You ate your biscuits while walking across the city, and Eomer didn't mind in the slightest the fact that you took two cookies instead of one. Indeed, he offered both.
The more time he spent with you, the more he reckoned that he enjoyed your company. He enjoyed your humour, and your wits, and your kind smile. He found your voice soothing for some reason, and would have gladly spent entire days listening to you talking about anything you wanted. He was only half-listening as you talked about your father's business in the town. Instead, he merely took in the sound of your voice, and the sight of your eyes in the declining sun, and the way your hands moved to accompany the words you uttered. You were lively and smiling so much that he came to wonder if you were always merry, or if perhaps he had on you the same kind of effect that you had on him.
And indeed, he did have this effect upon you as well.
You liked his deep, rumbling voice, and his clear eyes, and the way his hair blew in the wind as you walked along the outer walls to stare at the shimmering waters of the Anduin in the distance. You liked the way he seemed calm by your side, although you had no doubt, by the way he held himself straight, that he was not the kind of man who would refuse a fight if provoked. He had an aura about him that drew respect towards his frame, something almost kingly, you reckoned. If only you knew…
Along that afternoon, spent basked in warm sunshine and sugary cookies, he learnt everything there was to learn about your family. He learnt that you liked apples and peaches too. He learnt that you loved watching the wind push down the grass across the Pelennor fields, drawing ripples as if it were the water at the surface of a lake. He learnt that you liked the smell of flowers in Spring and used to climb in trees as a child. You learnt about his sister who had married a man in Ithilien, and how he missed her dearly. How he described the Golden halls of Medulsed made you want to leave with him that very evening, ride throughout the night and cross the miles that separated the two cities to see it all yourself.
When the moon eventually settled in the sky, and it was more than time for you to go home and for him to join Aragorn for supper, you both caught yourselves stalling, trying to grab every single second more that could be offered to you. But all the cookies had been eaten, and none of you had a valid reason to see each other again. Or at least, none that didn't involve plainly showing how much you appreciated each other. And that was a very terrifying thing to admit.
Only, Eomer was not of the cowardly kind, and he found that the other possibility that was presented to him was to never see you again. So, he reckoned, he didn't really have a choice then…
"Y/N?" he spoke before you could, right before you would part ways.
You turned fully to him, biting back the farewell that stung the tip of your tongue.
"Yes?"
"I… I've spent a lovely afternoon in your company."
"I have as well."
"I… I know it might sound rather blunt, and I dearly hope that you do not take my behaviour harshly. I can assure you that my intentions are of the purest kind but… I… I would very much like to spend more time with you. Will you let me see you again?"
You stared at each other for a moment, a moment suspended in mid-air while the stars settled in the inky sky and the moon slowly awoke its dim light. The streets were quieter, its rhythm failing with the sun. And under the light of the torches that shed their warm light on the streets, Eomer reckoned that your eyes shone brighter than ever, and it would have been so easy for him to get lost in them.
Slowly, a smile formed on your lips.
"I would love to see you again," you admitted, your voice a little shy.
Eomer's heart made a leap in his chest, the kind of jump that he had rarely experienced before.
"May I take you to the river next week? Or would you prefer to remain in the city?"
"I would love to go to the river with you."
You exchanged a bright grin, and didn't even notice as seconds stretched into minutes, both of you too busy staring at each other instead.
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Over the span of the next few weeks, Eomer and you spent more and more time together. And if at first, you weren't certain of his intentions towards you, this walk under the stars was the final proof you needed to be certain that he was courting you.
You met again on this same bench Eomer had found you sitting on that day you had stolen his pastries. It wasn't really stealing, of course, but he liked teasing you like this, seeing the way you bent your head then to hide your shy smile.
It was night already, but Eomer had been busy all day long, and had no other moment to meet with you. In the white tower, rumours and questions were starting to run wild, and even Aragorn and Arwen were wondering what Eomer could be doing, spending so much time wandering through the town. Or rather, who kept him away from the royal halls.
Eomer was more nervous than usual tonight, and you noticed his strange behaviour the second he sat down by your side on the bench.
You could never have guessed though that the reason behind his unsettled mood.
He had taken a decision that day. He was going to tell you the whole truth.
This involved finally telling you about his real rank. Now that you were truly comfortable around him, he hoped your behaviour towards him would not change too drastically. He expected for you to mistrust him for a while, after all, he had lied to you. But he had spent his day thinking about the best way to bring you the truth, and reckoned that he had found the words that would bring the most peace to your mind.
But bringing to you the whole truth also meant confessing his feelings. For along the past few weeks, he had slowly yet steadily fallen in love with you.
There was no doubt in his mind about the way he felt for you. He had fallen for your soft touch, and your bright laughter, and your humour, and your playful banter, and the way you held yourself, and the sight of the sun brushing your hair, and your kind smile and every other detail that made you be the person you were. This love he had for you, he knew it to be special too. Somehow, he was certain that this was the kind of love to last for a lifetime.
And he needed to tell you. Tonight. With the stars as witnesses and the moon as keeper of his honest words, he needed to say it all to you tonight.
His hands were shaking as he handed you a white simbelmynë, its petals shining under the silvery light. You smiled even brighter as you noticed the not-so-subtle blush that coloured his cheeks and ears.
"Eomer? What is it? You seem nervous."
He let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing his palms together.
"I suppose I am. Quite nervous."
"What for? It's just me."
He offered you back your soothing smile, and the sight of the stars in your eyes made his heart beat a little less erratically.
"Forgive me. It is not important. How was your day?"
But you didn't let yourself be so easily lurred away from the main topic.
"Tell me. What is on your mind?"
He took a deep breath, reaching for your hand. You let him hold your fingers in his, his skin calloused and made rough by the many years he had spent wielding a sword. Despite the rasp of his skin, his touch was tender, almost feathery.
"I... I want to talk to you... about... something. Two things, actually."
"What is it? Are you... are you leaving?"
"Leaving? No, no, I'm not leaving."
"Then what can have you this nervous?"
"I..."
He cleared his throat, his voice deeper than usual because of the way his throat started to clench.
"I... I am sure that by now you have noticed the way I... I am sure you have guessed my intentions towards you, but I have never clearly expressed them, and I feel like I should."
"Oh."
He fell silent, a thousand questions forming in his glance at your shaky sound, but you invited him to continue. And so he did, stuttering and stumbling all over hid words, to a point that was almost comical considering the speeches he had given to thousands of horsemen ready for war before. Somehow, he was more timid now, in front of you. The effect of the heart, he reckoned.
"I can assure you that my intentions are... respectable. And I intend to do things the right way. But... I... my intentions are... driven by the fact that I..."
He struggled to swallow, his eyes never leaving yours as you expectantly stared at him, waiting for him to finish. He took a dep breath, before forcing the words out.
"I... have feelings for you."
Your eyes grew a little wider, and a smile spread across your features.
"Romantic feelings," he clarified, although he found himself stupid for doing so the second the additional words had passed his lips. You merely giggled at him.
"I assumed it was what you meant."
He nodded, biting his tongue and waiting for your reaction. It was torture to stare at you like this, uncertain of the outcome. Would you feel the same, or reject him?
You tightened your hold on his hand.
"I'm glad," you merely answered, but he didn't need more words as he saw the luminous expression on your face, and the way your eyes sparked as they fell to look at your entwined fingers.
When you looked up at him again, he felt bolder than he had in a long time. Which was why he rose his other hand to brush his fingers along your cheek, leaning closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat, but at the way you glanced at his lips, Eomer could tell that you wanted this to happen too.
Slowly, the space between your faces shrunk and shrunk until your breaths intertwined, fading on both your mouths, making the air around you warmer than what the night wanted.
At first it was only a brush of lips, but a second later it was more of a light touch that ended by the two of you pressing your lips together.
It was shy and a little hesitant, but it was sweet and tender and loving too. And after you broke apart, both of you breathless, you decided it made it perfect.
You rested your head against his shoulder, and he held you close to him, his arm wrapping around you.
You smiled, watching the breeze dance in the branches falling above your heads. You spotted a couple of Robins chirping together, jumping from a tiny branch to the other.
You wondered if they had found love too.
"I like this," you whispered, taking a deep breath to remember his scent. You could feel his muscles shifting under you with every breath he took. You reckoned that you had never felt safer anywhere else in your life.
"What do you like?" He asked, eager to please you.
"This. You cuddling me."
He laughed.
"Is that what I'm doing?"
You nodded.
"Cuddles! Cuddles! Cuddles!" You chimed, making him laugh some more.
But after a few minutes of peace, spent enjoying the way his body felt against you, you being turned light-headed because of his scent all around you, you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around your frames.
"You said there was something else you meant to tell me, though," you reminded him, pulling away to look at him fully once more. "What is it?"
His expression changed, becoming one of worry again. He took both your hands in his, and you noticed the way he was struggling to make eye-contact with you, his breathing uneven.
"I… There is indeed something I must tell you. Something I should have told you before, but I was worried you… you wouldn't see me the same if I told you."
"Eomer? What is it?" you insisted with a frown when he fell silent again.
He forced his blue eyes to settle on your stare, taking a deep breath before diving. But…
"Your Majesty."
He froze, staring at you with fear clouding his eyes this time. A soldier stood behind him, clearly addressing Eomer. You looked at him with a frown.
"Your Majesty," the soldier walked closer to you, and your frown only deepened while you tried to understand the scene that unfolded before you. "I am sorry to interrupt you. But we have received a message from Edoras, it is urgent."
"What is happening?" you finally asked, while the soldier handed his sovereign a sealed letter.
Eomer merely thanked the soldier with a nod, and let the man walk away before he would answer you.
"Why did he call you that? What is happening?" you asked again.
Eomer heaved a sigh. It wasn't how he wanted to tell you everything…
"I… I'm sorry. Please, you have to believe me, I never intended to harm you or deceive you in any way. But when we met I… I would have never imagined that this would be what we would become. And it… it seemed easier this way. After that, how could I make things right again?"
"I don't understand… You… You're a merchant..."
"I am not a merchant, Y/N."
You stared at each other for a lingering moment, before you let out a deep exhale, blinking under the moonlight as the situation started to make sense, although you didn't want your understanding to be true.
"You… you lied to me?"
"I'm sorry."
"Did you lie to me?"
"I did."
"You… You are…"
"I am."
"You… are a King?"
He nodded, giving you some time to wrap your mind around the idea.
You snatched your hands out of his hold.
"Y/N…"
"You lied to me…"
"I thought it would be easier that afternoon. I just… I did not want you to feel uncomfortable around me. You would not have talked to me the way you did had you known who I really am. I did not think it would have any consequence, I did not think that we would ever see each other again."
"You should have told me sooner."
"Things would have changed…"
"They are about to change now too."
"They do not have to. Nothing has to change."
"You are a King. And I am but… a commoner."
"No, I have never seen you like this. Do you not know that?"
"I know that we come from two worlds that are even more different than our two kingdoms…"
"Don't."
"Did you lie for anything else? Did you lie about us?"
"No, I have not. I truly have feelings for you. This… what happens now between us, this is real."
"When were you going to tell me who you really were?"
"Right now. Tonight. It was the second matter I wanted to discuss with you. I… I simply hoped that I could bring the truth forward in a softest way. Y/N, I have been honest with you, all along. I did not lie about us, and I have been more myself with you than I could have ever been had you known my true identity. I simply… wanted to spend some time with you."
You didn't reply, and instead, looked down at your laps. When you spoke again, your tone was saddened and cold.
"I want to go home now."
"Y/N…"
"Please. Let me go home, Your Majesty."
Never before had hearing his title broken his heart. Until now.
So, he let you go.
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You didn't hear from Eomer for a few days, and you weren't surprised. You expected to be left alone for good.
You cried all night long, but then the tears seemed to dry out. Instead, you felt numb towards the entire world.
You didn't say a word about the incident to anyone, may they be your friends or your family. You reckoned that they wouldn't believe you if you did so. Your parents were starting to grow worried at your silent and mournful behaviour though, and you knew that you wouldn't be able to keep the story for yourself for much longer. So, after three days, you told them it was about a man, hoping it would satisfy their thirst for truth. A man of Rohan you had met at the bakery who had ended up being a liar. Your father was ready to go break his nose, but you reckoned that having your father arrested for punching a King was not the end to your love story that you longed for.
You expected to never see him again, and waited for the pain to go away. Your mother always said that time can heal all wounds, and you forced yourself to not doubt her words.
The rumour that the King of Rohan would soon be leaving Gondor started to spread after your last evening spent with him. You wondered what kind of business could force him back to his homeland, but you guessed that you would never find out. No matter how hurt you felt, and how angry at him you were, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever see him again…
You didn't answer the knock on the front door of your parents' house when it echoed through your home. You kept on staring instead at the inky sky rendered completely black by the heavy clouds that poured rain across the city. A breeze shook your frame with a shiver as it rushed into the house by the open window, bringing your mind a little closer to the ground again. It was late at night, and you should have gone to bed a while ago, but you couldn't put your mind at rest.
Why did he have to go?
You heard some voices coming from the threshold where your father had answered the door, but paid no attention to them, and tried, on the contrary, to block their sound so you could keep on daydreaming.
If only he hadn't lied to you…
"Y/N!" your father called for you, and this time you did turn to him. "Someone is here for you."
You frowned, but forced yourself to stand and walk to the door anyway, taking the lantern your father was handing you so you could see who was coming to visit you so late at night.
And you should have known that it was him.
"Good evening, Y/N."
Eomer was drenched under the heavy summer rain, his long blond locks clinging to his cheeks and neck, his cloak and hood only of little protection under such a strong storm. The sky rumbled angrily just as you stared at him with your mouth agape in surprise.
"I… I am sorry to disturb you so late at night. It is hardly the hour for a call, I am well aware."
"What are you doing here?" you interrupted him rather rudely, and you wondered if being rude to a King would get you in trouble.
But Eomer didn't seem to mind.
"I… I am leaving Minas Tirith tomorrow," he announced. "A situation in Edoras calls for my immediate attention, and I cannot delay my departure."
"Why are you telling me this?"
You noticed, despite the dim light of your lantern, the way that Eomer flinched at your question.
"I… I know that you are still angry at me for lying about who I am. And I do not hold it against you. But I was honest about everything else, and my feelings have not changed. I… I reckoned that you deserved to hear about it from me."
"It was but a dream though. These past few weeks were but a reverie."
"Only if we decide to make them so."
"I do not come from a noble house…"
"I have never cared about this."
"You should. You are King."
"Come with me to Edoras."
"What?!"
"Come with me. Come with me in Rohan."
"I… I cannot leave…"
"Not tomorrow. Of course not, but… when I come back here, I can ask for your hand to your family properly. Then… then you could come live with me at Edoras."
"I cannot leave my family. My life is here."
"They could come with us."
"No. No, Eomer, no."
He bent his head, nodding.
"As you wish," he breathed.
He couldn't simply let you go, though. And he knew it. He knew that this could not be the end. He wanted to fight for you.
He had never been one to flee before a battle, and he was not about to start now. If you did not want him in your life, then he would respect your choice. But he had to try one last desperate attempt before admitting his defeat.
"I… I cannot let this end this way," he went on, finally looking up at you again, with strength in his eyes despite the way his body shook under the rain and his voice trembled. "I know that I have lied to you, and I understand that you might need time to decide if you can forgive me or not. Don't be too quick in your decision. I know that I have shaken your trust in me, but I… I beg of you to believe me when I tell you that I was earnest with you all along, and that I truly hold feelings for you. And now I… Now it is dark, and it is late, and I am cold and I am drenched with this rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."
You couldn't refrain a gasp.
He… loved you…
"When I come back to Minas Tirith, I'll wait for you on the bench every evening. You can decide then if you wish to give me another chance or not. I will wait for you. If you do not come by the end of the first week, I shall not bother you again. If you do come, I will spend the rest of my life making amends and showing you how true the rest of my words were."
He handed you a box, wrapped in some brown paper drenched by the summer rain, and you slowly took the object, studying him while doing so.
"Good night, Y/N. I hope you decide for this not to also mean farewell."
Before you could speak, he was striding away and disappearing around the corner of an adjacent alley.
You walked back inside the house, knowing that your father waited expectantly for an explanation, but you ignored him. Instead, you carried your lantern to the table, and peeled away the wet paper to reveal a carved wooden box, upon which two horses were dancing. Horses were carved all along the sides of the box as well. It was beautiful…
You lifted the lid, and recognized the scent of pastries before you even saw the same cookies you and Eomer had fought for as you met.
Your tear was silent as it fell.
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The next four weeks were a mess.
Your family barely believed you and your father was quite mad about the whole ordeal. It was a complicated situation you were thrown in at home.
But it wasn't even the thing that bothered you the most. No, what truly tortured you was Eomer.
He was still in Rohan, and you had not heard of any rumour about his return to the White City. You had tried to stop thinking of him, and tried to not forgive him, and tried to be stronger than you were.
Your days seemed to always repeat. You woke up tired yet determined to not think about him, to not yield. You skipped breakfast for lack of appetite. You lost yourself in work at your father's shop. You barely touched your food at lunch for your throat was too tight most of the time. You forced smiles upon your lips and pushed away thoughts of him. By the time the sun started its fall across the sky, and the afternoon slowly wavered, your resolve faltered like the course of the star above you. You caught yourself sometimes keeping an object in your hands even though you should have been placing it on a shelf, too lost in thought to complete the simple task. You heard his voice instead of your customer's sometimes. And the more the afternoon declined into the evening, the more you thought of him. The more you forgave him. The more you wished he was back.
He was wrong to lie to you, but you understood why he had done so. You couldn't deny that, had you known who he truly was, you would have never allowed yourself to fall for him. You would have never joked around, and spent these afternoons laughing with him. At the end of the day, you still loved him, so what did it change?
Leaving your life behind to join him in Rohan was far from an easy step, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Being King, you were the one who would have to follow him, not the other way around. You could still visit your family whenever you would need to come to Minas Tirith. And your family could also travel to see you in Rohan. Perhaps your father could even open a shop there too. It wasn't unfeasible, it was simply a leap of faith.
But you had to wrap your mind around the idea of becoming a Queen, and that was a whole other level of troubles, you reckoned. You weren't a queen. You were simply the daughter of a merchant. You didn't know much about Rohan, only the tales your father had told you as a child to put you to sleep, and the experience you had of their culture through the few people of Rohan you had come across in your life. You remembered when so many of them had stayed in the city after the siege on Minas Tirith during the war. You remembered their broad shields, and the green cloaks of the Rohirrim. How could you manage to be their queen though?
By the evening, as the sky turned in a strange mix of oranges and yellows, your resolve had dissolved, and you weren't angry in the slightest anymore. By dinner you thought of the pastries you ate together and were ready to cry at the memory. By the time the first stars appeared in the firmament, you had forgiven him. As you watched the moon rising by your window, you missed him so much it hurt. The same question kept on burning your tongue and your veins, to a point that your pain turned back to anger as the moon shone brightly upon the city.
This question that kept on ringing in your ears and this uncertainty to what would come after had you tear at your hair.
By the time your head fell out of exhaustion onto your pillow, the light of the stars and moon shyly sipping into your room to bathe your closed eyelids, you were cursing his name for leaving you like this, and as retribution, promised yourself to not give into him.
By the time sleep finally took you, you were crying, and you were infuriated at this question that kept gnawing at your heart, and you swore that you would never forgive him for leaving.
Where are you?
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Eomer didn't come back before three whole months had passed. You heard the first rumours two weeks before his arrival, and became more and more nervous as the date approached.
What if he had changed his mind? What if he didn't come at the bench? What if he didn't feel the same anymore?
After all, you had pushed him away and you had never told him how you truly felt. He had admitted that he loved you, that night, under the rain, but you hadn't spoken the words back, no matter if you would have meant them if you had.
The day of their arrival was nerve-wrecking to say the least. You had to remain at your father's shop to work, and didn't go to see the Rohirrim enter the city.
Instead you remained locked in the shop, waiting for the sun to cross the sky until the evening would finally come.
Would Eomer be there, at the bench? He had promised that night, but so much could have changed in three months…
You didn't tell your parents where you went as you finally walked out of the shop at the end of the day. The sky had taken a velvety shade of purple as the sun had disappeared beyond the mountains, and the first stars were just beginning to glimmer above head. You reckoned that never before in your life had your heart beaten so fast.
A thousand scenarios passed through your mind, most of them of him not being there. After all, even if he hadn't changed his mind, he was probably exhausted after his journey. And perhaps he had to stay with Elessar? It made sense. So perhaps, even if he wasn't there, it wouldn't be hopeless…
But as you entered the garden, the light of torches burning of a bright red and gold in the growing shadows of the night, the silhouette that rested upon the bench was unmistakable. In the shy yet burning lights of the fires, his blond hair seemed to glimmer with warmer hues than usual. His maroon tunic hugged his broad shoulders, threads of gold embroidered in the fabric over his collar, tracing complex patterns that ran along the top of his shoulders and down his sleeves to wrap around his wrists. He wore dark leathered pants that seemed to be meant for riding, and tall boots of the same deep shade of brown, looking almost black in the night.
He didn't hear you walking closer, until your breath got caught in your throat and you had to gasp to fill your lungs with air again.
He was on his feet the second his eyes recognized your face, and he stopped breathing altogether at the sight.
He had missed you so much… and you were even more beautiful than his dreams.
"You came," he let out in a breath.
"You came too," you answered with a small smile.
"I told you that I would. I will never betray your trust again, if you offer me the chance to prove it to you."
He heaved a sigh, clenching and releasing his fists. There was so much he meant to tell you…
"Y/N, I…"
But he was cut short as you suddenly ran to him and held him close.
It took him a few seconds to finally realize what you were doing and wrap his arms around you as well. But once he did, his hold was so tight that you could barely breathe, as if he were scared you would run away and disappear forever if he released you.
"Please, just… hold me. Please, hold me close," your voice came in a whisper that almost got lost in the night.
And so he did. He remained quiet, too scared of breaking the moment you were lost into and losing you if he did anything else than keep you secured in his arms. After a while, you relaxed, letting out a deep sigh and closing your eyes.
"I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "I forgive you. Don't leave me again. Please, don't leave again, I forgive you."
He moved just enough to kiss your temple, the gesture chaste and tender, one of his hands moving up your back to cradle your head instead.
"I love you," you confessed. "Do you still feel the same too?"
Eomer broke into a grin.
"Of course, I do. I love you. I always will."
Your body finished to relax against him, your hands turning into fists around his shirt. You were ready to cry, such a strong wave of relief crashing down on your entire frame.
"I've missed you," he went on, his low and deep voice acting like a balm to heal all your wounds and scars. "I've never stopped thinking of you for all this time we were apart."
"I've missed you too. I… I don't want to ever feel like this again."
Eomer smiled against your forehead as he dropped a soft kiss there.
"Then, let's stay together, and never part again."
********************************************
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dalleyan · 4 years ago
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Near Misses (LoTR story, ch 4 posted, 5-12-21)
Everyone who knew them thought Eomer and Lothiriel would be a good marital match, but fate seemed determined that they not meet.  Sometimes fate needs a helping hand.  [9 chapters total]
 Chapter 4
(late May-early June, 3020 III)
The subject of King Eomer lingered in Lothiriel’s thoughts the day after her trouble with Lord Belcam, but she saw no way to resolve the matter.  Going to Rohan solely for the purpose of meeting him would be terribly inappropriate, so she would simply have to await the next reasonable opportunity to be in his presence.  In the meantime, there was another feast scheduled a week later that would include dancing.
Lothiriel was feeling decidedly wary after the mishap with Lord Belcam, but Amrothos kept near her once the meal was ended.  While he did not interfere with men approaching her with offers to dance or converse, he made sure she knew he was readily available if she had need of him.  Dear Amrothos!  He had ever looked after her.  All her brothers had, of course, but Amrothos most of all.  Perhaps their only being a few years apart in age made them share a closer relationship.
She danced much; at least that she could enjoy even if her partners did not inspire any interest.  As she paused to rest, having sent Amrothos for wine, one of her earlier partners approached and smiled at her.
“Lady Lothiriel, as we are enjoying fine weather, would you care to go riding tomorrow?” Lord Pethraug invited hopefully.
While she was not sure she wished to encourage him, finding him rather fussy and particular, a jaunt on the Pelennor did sound pleasurable. If she was careful not to encourage his attentions too much, it could be an agreeable way to spend a morning or afternoon.  Besides, perhaps he had changed and she might find him more appealing than she had in the past.  She supposed she should give him the benefit of the doubt and see.
“I would like that, if Amrothos is available to accompany us,” she replied.  She had learned her lesson and would not be alone with a suitor again until she was absolutely certain she was willing to receive any advances they might make.
Said brother was returning just then with the wine she had requested, and Lord Pethraug hastened to make the request of him.  After a quick glance at his sister, to determine her inclination in the matter, Amrothos agreed to a morning ride.  Plans were made to meet at the city gate around nine the next day. 
Not wishing to encourage Lord Pethraug overly much, Lothiriel drank some of her wine and then took her brother’s arm.  “Shall we dance?” she asked, and when he agreed, setting aside his own wine, she offered apologies to Pethraug as they moved toward the dance floor.
“Do I sense hesitancy in your acceptance of this outing?” Amrothos queried, as they took up their positions.
“Caution, that is all.  If he has improved since last we met, I may encourage him more, but until I am sure, I think it best that I keep a reserve between us,” she answered, taking the first steps as the music began.
After several movements through the dance figures, they were back together long enough for him to comment, “A wise decision, dearest. Do not act too hastily and regret it later.”  She merely smiled in response, amused by his pearls of wisdom considering his own unwed status.
 continue reading on AO3:
              https://archiveofourown.org/works/31025303/chapters/77274812
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theartofbeinganeldar · 5 years ago
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The Art of Being An Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 3
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Summary: You, a fantasy-loving LARPing human from Earth, got dropped into a fantasy land that seems familiar to you, but you had no recollection of it. Lord Fabulous Elvenking gave you three days to find the portal that would take you home with the aide of Blue-Eyes and a host of Elves, but what you found instead was the portal was closed for another thousand years. On the way back, you saved Legolas's life, prompting Thranduil to grant you freedom, and after, you finally realized where you were; Middle-Earth. Thranduil summons the council, which is made up of powerful wizards and Elves, to decide what should be done with you...
Chapter No.: Chapter 3
Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color
Notes: I think Pippin's song matches the reader's situation very much, which is why I use it so often. I mean, your character fell from everything they know, their "home," and now they can't go back, but now they have this whole magical world and life ahead of them... Grief and sorrow, but things to look forward to in the future.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, The fucking Silmarillion, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)
Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely
Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.
Rating: Teen (14+) for now
When you woke up, you found yourself blinded by a stupidly bright light that singed your retinas off. "What the hell?" You shielded your eyes as you tried to find the source.
Oh.
It was Thranduil, and beside him, Legolas, the two so bright they could be hung on your porch as bug-zappers.
Ohhhh...
You were in Middle-Earth. Right. Without any memory of it except for bits and pieces. You did remember that you'd watched the movies so many times that you could've recited each line in your sleep and then some, but you couldn't remember anything but what pieces you randomly dreamed of or remembered, which were already starting to fade.
"Hi. Can I help you with something in my half-starved state?"
Blue-Eyes desperately fought a smirk. Thranduil was less impressed. "My son tells me you lost consciousness because of a lack of sustenance. What sort of repayment is that for my favor to you, may I ask?"
You cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse the fuck outta you, Thrandy, but I just learned about a week and a half ago I'd never see my family again. Forgive me if I got upset."
Blue-Eyes turned his head away, trying really hard not to laugh...
"Also," You went on with a forced cocky smile, "I just learned that I'm in Middle-Earth. Where I come from, all this-- the palace, the land, even your fancy Elven toilets-- were created by some old guy called J. R. R. Tolkien, collectively referred to as 'Jrrt.' Now, I don't remember a goddamn thing except for bits and pieces of dialogue and song, even though I knew the stories by heart."
Thranduil and Blue-Eyes-- who was no longer trying not to laugh-- eyed each other suspiciously. "You knew of this place in your world?"
You nodded. "It's very well-known. But, everybody thinks it's fiction. Unaccesible. And be glad about that, too, because if there were a well-known way to get here, there'd be lots of war, new diseases, and this place would be turned to shit, too."
Thranduil stared at you for a minute, before abruptly turning to Legolas. "Son, I am off to the throne room. I shall summon the council at once."
You waited until he left to ask what that meant.
Blue-Eyes smiled slightly. "Meaning, he is not quite certain what should be done with you. The council is made up of some of the oldest and wisest of Middle-Earth, including the wizards and those of my kin, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien, and Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell. Do any of those names sound familiar to you?"
You shrugged. "It doesn't matter if they sound familiar or not. I never remember what anybody looks like. I just get an eerie sense of deja vu."
Blue-Eyes raised an eyebrow. "Deja... Vu?"
You sat up more, rolling your eyes. "It means having a sense of familiarity, like, really strongly. Whatever. Tell me who the wizards are."
Blue-Eyes sat at the end of your bed. "The most powerful of the wizards is Saruman the White, who resides in Isengard, on the edge of Fangorn Forest and the Gap of Rohan. The second is Mithrandir, who is most commonly known as Gandalf the Gray by most folk. The third is the much less-known-of and reclusive Radagast the Brown, but I doubt my father will request his presence; he dislikes his excessive behavior." He raised an eyebrow. "Have you heard of them?"
You nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah. So if I'm an Elf, do I like, have to learn how to act like an Elf, or should you let these really important people decide what to do after they've seen who I am?"
"The latter," Blue-Eyes specified, "But it would still be beneficial to learn Elvish. It should take them quite awhile to arrive; between now and then, you should learn as much of it as possible, after I've given you a tour of Mirkwood."
You made a wheel-like motion with your hands. "After I've eaten and taken a bath, I know."
Blue-Eyes patted your leg. A jolt of electricity shot from where he touched you. What the hell? "Good," He stood and started to leave the room. "I will leave you to your own; there is food on the nightstand, and after, a bath across the bridge there," He pointed, and as you looked across the way seen Elves.
Bathing.
Blushing, you looked to Blue-Eyes wildly. "I-I'm supposed to take a bath with other people."
Blue-Eyes frowned in confusion. "Do you not, from your world?"
"Um, no. We all bathe alone. Where I come from, one's own body is considered... Private, to everybody except your doctor or significant other."
"Oh, I see. I could have a private bath prepared for you, if you wish for it," He answered with a smile. "Even here, we may want to bathe on our own to relax. It would not be a problem." He sneered down at you. "I would not want you bathing in the shared springs anyway. You'd dirty the whole lot of them."
With a very childish glare, you stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to have the oddest look he'd had yet. You'd noticed something about him; he had the unique ability to create a range of dynamically comical expressions. "What are you doing?"
You took up a dramatically serious tone. "I am expressing the 'fuck you' gesture in an immature and childish manner used worldwide, even among the youngest." With that, you stuck your tongue out again.
Legolas rolled his eyes. "Very well, then, Sairen, your bath will be ready for you when you are finished with your meal. I will send someone for you in an hour, if that suits you."
"That suits me perfectly fine, but I beg your fucking pardon, was that 'fuck you' in Elvish?"
Legolas grinned. "Not at all, mellon. It means 'fiery' in our tongue."
"Okay." A wry smile spread across your face. "That I can deal with. But what does 'melon' mean? Both you and Tauriel have called me that so far."
Legolas smiled as he began to close the double-doors, though what they did to block you when the room had only two-foot tall walls, you had no idea. "Mellon. It means, 'my friend.'"
A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as he smiled-- for once, genuinely-- at you. You found yourself smiling back as he closed your doors. When he was gone, your smile toned down a bit, and you took a long, deep breath.
You were still upset. Very. On the inside, you felt torn to pieces. You figured it would be a long, long time before you grief lessened, if it ever did. But now that you knew where you were... It was different. You were sure of something. Where you were, and the fact that the Firemoon Portal would only open every thousand years. If you went back then, you'd already be connected to this world, and everyone in it. If time passed the same, your family would be gone, and you'd be mortal again, without a way to wait for the portal to reopen so that you could return to your new friends here.
But... You knew your family. They'd never forget you, and never stop grieving your loss. But, if they thought you might be somewhere better than Earth, and there was no way back... They'd want you to be happy. They'd want you to make a new life. They wouldn't want you to waste your life starving yourself.
You'd miss them... More than anything...
But for now...
You moved the silver platter on your nightstand to your lap, and started eating.
Home is behind...
The world ahead...
And there are many paths to tread...
***
"No, no," Tauriel corrected you. "Mae govannen."
"Mae govAHnnen."
Tauriel bit back an exasperated sigh. "Well... You're close enough."
You'd been in Mirkwood for nearly a month now, not counting the days of your imprisonment and searching for the portal. You wondered what made Thranduil (Who you still called 'Lord Fabulous' on occassion.) release you and treat you as an Elf, and as it turns out, it was Blue-Eyes himself.
Speaking of, you hadn't seen him in days... He kind of... Disappeared. There was still talk of him, and no one seemed to be worried, so you weren't; for Elves that lived forever, you bet anything that he had princely exploring and regular adventuring to do to keep him occupied.
Around the time he left, Tauriel approached you and asked if you knew any Elvish. Aside from sairen and mellon, you knew less than zero. Apparently, it was considered good Elven manners to at least speak a greeting to guests in their own language, despite what Leggy had said. Meaning, to different members of the council, you had to speak a greeting in Quenyan-- which was different from Sindarin, the most common Elvish language-- Common, and Sindarin. You'd memorized the lines, but it was the pronunciation that really befuddled your non-billingual ass.
Now, you'd pretty much gotten the Quenyan greeting: Mae govannen. It meant well met or something along those lines, but you had to add Lord Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell. I am at your service. Which was much longer and much more complicated. All in all, it pretty much came out to, Mae govannen, Cundo Elrond Peresta-Elda mi Arcimbele. Nanye ketya veume.
English (Common.) was equally as long: Greetings, Gandalf the Gray, Mithrandir, and Saruman the White of Isengard. Welcome to these halls. I am at your service as well, should you need it.
And lastly, to Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, you had to say the most: And ana lye, Heri Galadriel and Cundo Celeborn, elen sila lumenn omentielvo. Nanye aistana et ketya toled.
And to you, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, a star shines upon the hour of our meeting. I am blessed from your coming.
It was all a mouthful. A regal, elegant mouthful, but a mouthful that your tongue had trouble forming. In addition to all the greetings, you had to address them each in order; first Elrond, then the wizards, then Galadriel and Celeborn at once.
They'd arrived a few days ago, but you hadn't actually been summoned yet. You wondered what Thranduil had told them about you so far. He seemed like the type to exaggerate and make shit up: They're nothing but an abomination! They almost killed Legolas! They tried to kill me! They're dangerous and should be restrained! They toilet-papered my throne room!
The elaborate horns blowing signaled something evidently important; Tauriel's face lit up. "Mellon, it is Legolas! He has returned!"
Despite yourself, your heart jumped like a schoolgirl's. Blue-Eyes was back! "Really?! How do I look? Does it look like I've been taking care of myself?" Legolas would kill you if you weren't. Over the weeks, the blue hair dye had left your hair, returning it to its [h/c] color, even if you did still spike it up-- you'd been an outcast your whole life, so having short spiky hair when everybody else had long, flowing hair made you feel at home. You were dressed in dark browns, nearly blacks, in an outfit very similar to a tunic over leggings, knee-high boots, and all finished up with a long jacket, closed with Elven buckles.
"You look fine, [Y/N]," Tauriel assured you absentmindedly, and the two of you trotted down the many, many stairs and bridges to get to the massive front doors of the palace.
Thranduil and a host of other Elves were greeting Legolas, who looked as if he'd been in Sparkle Land for the last couple weeks. His clothes were in prestine condition. His hair was perfectly plaited away from his face. He wore a faint smile, as if whatever he'd been doing hadn't been stressful at all.
You and Tauriel arrived just as Thranduil finished speaking. "And you failed to locate them?"
Legolas held himself regally. "My apologies, my king. It will not happen again."
Thranduil glared down at him. "I should hope not. You will leave again in three days' time, after you have properly greeted our guests." As Thranduil spun on his heel to leave, Blue-Eyes bowed, rising up again as he seen you and Tauriel.
"Tauriel," He said, his face lighting up. She bowed slightly; apparently Elves didn't hug. He grinned snarkily when he seen you. "And [Y/N]. Last I saw you, your hair was strangely sky-hued."
You scoffed. "You can't even say sky-colored? You have to say sky-hued? Stupid Elves and their fancy ways. Good to see ya anyway, Blue-Eyes, even if you're a priss."
"I believe you mean prince."
You laughed, but it faded when he turned to Tauriel and started speaking in Elvish. He lead her away, talking, leaving you on your own. Your face fell. You wanted to tell him that you knew some greetings. You wanted to say you wanted to go with him when he left again. And the fact that you were already alone here only amplified the feeling of... Jealousy? Disappointment?
You watched them leave for a minute, before deciding you'd take a walk in the Mirkwood-- maybe it'd clear your mind. You nearly rammed into an Elf in turning around. "Whoops."
"Nothing to apologize for," the Elf said; thankfully, they'd caught on to Earth slang and understood you most of the time, instead of just assuming you were insulting them. "Thranduil Elvenking has summoned you to his councilroom. The council awaits you."
Your mouth went dry. All the feelings about Legolas ignoring you vanished in an instant. Oh shit. "I-I don't know where that is. You'll take me there, right?"
"Of course," Said the Elf, and lead the way through the twisting halls. He stopped before the one room of the palace that was actually sealed off from the rest besides the dungeons, with doors almost as big as the ones that lead out of the palace. "Here you are. They're waiting for you." He smiled slightly. "A word of advice for the introductions: let King Thranduil introduce you to them before you say your greetings." You bowed slightly in the Elven way as you thanked him.
You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous as hell. Meeting a bunch of people, really important people... You'd met some important people before: soldiers were the main ones you'd met, aside from a couple of astronauts. Other than that...
Taking a hugely amplified deep breath, you opened the door.
Inside was a wide winding staircase lit  by gorgeously-crafted Elven wall sconces of stained glass and copper metalwork shaped into vines. Every step seemed to echo, and when you reached the top of the staircase, your breath was ripped from you. It was a pavilion. A pavilion in the one place you loved above all else: the sky.
Rails kept anybody from falling off, and it was roofed, so that you could come up here even in the rain. Birds chirped melodiously, and from here, you felt as if you could see all of Middle-Earth. Behind you was a huge mountain range-- you'd never seen mountains before. They were beautiful, snow-capped, and gigantic; the Misty Mountains, obviously. All around you, stretching as far as you could see south and a long way east and west and north, was the Mirkwood, and to the west and north were vast plains, hills, and valleys. Leaves, gold and copper, swirled around the pavilion, giving it an ethereal look. To the west, where you were facing, was a silver lake, wide and glittering in the midday sun. Standing tall and proud beside it was Erebor, home to the King Under the Mountain; currently, Thror. You didn't know why that name seemed so important, though.
You must've turned around in at least a dozen three-sixties, trying to take in what you were seeing. Even if you didn't remember most of it, here you were. You were seeing it, for real and for true, in person, in the home of one of the most revered Elves of Middle-Earth. It seemed unreal, like at any moment, you'd wake up.
A bird, queerly tame, flitted up by your face and up into the rafters; she carried food for her young, and you watched them with a smile, still in disbelief of the views.
A long sigh snapped you out of your trance. Shit. Thranduil waved at you absentmindedly. "Are you daft, vermin? I just introduced you to the council."
"O-oh--"
"Now, now, Thranduil," A wizard chuckled warmly; he wore blue and gray robes, with an immense beard and long hair. Gandalf. "If they really are of another world, then they are obviously stunned by the land. Have you not shown them their new home properly?"
Thranduil nobly facepalmed.
Meanwhile, you realized that it wasn't just Gandalf sitting there smoking his pipe.
Another wizard, this one with long, straight white hair and an equally perfect white beard, in blinding white robes with a white staff: Saruman the White. You didn't know why you got bad vibes from this guy. Beside him sat another Elf, casually, an ankle on his knee and an elbow resting on his higher leg to hold up his head with two fingers. He wore robes of brown and purple, and his long brown hair was held back with a silver Elvish circlet. That had to be Elrond; he looked amused, so you felt kind of relieved. On his left sat a guy who practically glowed, with long blonde hair and white and blue robes. Celeborn. Standing off to the side, with a kind smile like Gandalf, in a billowy white dress with a beautiful Elven circlet made of fine chains and teardrop jewels was a woman, a she-Elf, putting off wisdom-vibes stronger than Gandalf's. Her curling golden hair went well past her waist, and she held herself regally. Out of everyone in this room, she seemed to be the oldest, and the most knowledgeable.
Your Elvish greetings flew right out of your head for a minute, before Thranduil reintroduced you. "This is the council. With us are wizards Saruman the White and Gandalf the Gray, Lord Elrond of House Rivendell, and Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien. Councilmembers, this is [Y/N], the one who appeared from a portal we knew nothing of-- and if I must repeat this once more, I swear to the Valar, I shall throw you off of this pavilion."
Gandalf actually chuckled at that, as did Elrond, while Celeborn cracked a smile. Galadriel seemed to find this all regally amusing. You bowed like Tauriel had showed you. At least, you'd mastered that part. "Mae govannen, Cundo Elrond Peresta-Elda mi Arcimbele. Nanye ketya veume. Greetings, Gandalf the Gray, Mithrandir, and Saruman the White of Isengard. Welcome to these halls. I am at your service as well, should you need it. And ana lye, Heri Galadriel and Cundo Celeborn, elen sila lumenn omentielvo. Nanye aistana et ketya toled."
Elrond looked impressed. "Well, Thranduil, you have certainly trained them well." Thranduil watched you with wide eyes. He hadn't known of your lessons. Suck it, Lord fucking Fabulous.
Celeborn bowed his head. "Your pronunciation is nearly perfect. Well done, young one. However, I doubt you know much else of our tongue yet, so for your sake, we shall converse in Common, if that suits you."
You almost said, It does. Thanks! But that sounded too disrespectful. "Thank you very much." You smiled, and took a seat when Thranduil waved you to the only empty one aside from Galadriel's.
Saruman started off with a wary tone. "Thranduil tells us you come from another world. Is this true?"
Out of the corner of your eyes, you seen Thranduil roll his eyes. "Yes, sir. I come from a place called Earth."
The councilmembers exchanged glances. "That sounds strikingly similar to Middle-Earth," Said Gandalf, and raised an eyebrow. "Are there any similarities between this world, and yours?"
You shook your head sadly. "Not anymore. My people ruined it. There aren't many places like this anymore."
Saruman stiffened. "Then what happens if your people find the portal? Surely, they will try to ruin this, as well?"
You made a face. "They would, yeah, but my people are also really stupid. It'd take a stupid accident and a lot of chance to fall through that portal again, and Legolas said that it only opened once every time a Firemoon happens."
"Legolas?" Elrond asked, curiously, as if this hadn’t been mentioned before. Of course it hadn’t.
You nodded, unsure of why you suddenly had to fight a flush at the mention of his name. "He helped me find the portal with some of his Elven friends when I first got here. We found writing-- he said it was used before the time of even Gondolin. I don't know when that is; is that a long time ago?"
"Very," Replied Gandalf. "Odd... A portal of that magnitude would have to be created by wizards of some sort, especially at such a time..."
A thought suddenly popped into your head. "Some people think we have magic," You piped up, and all eyes were suddenly on you. "But it never works. Not effectively. Just standard hocus-pocus and the power of suggestion. But hundreds of years ago, there was this really mysterious guy who they say really did have magic, which he used to help others. His name was Merlin; he looked kinda like you, Gandalf. But he was in another country, where I come from; where I was when I fell wasn't anywhere near where he traveled."
Saruman narrowed his bird-like eyes. "Then what relevance is this?"
"Because if there was one wizard like you guys in the past," You pointed out, "Why couldn't there be others? There's so much we don't know about history-- we're more intent on wiping out what we don't understand. What if the wizards traveled between worlds and time? Hell, they could be you guys from the future, and it just hasn't happened yet."
"They have a point, Saruman," Gandalf agreed, much to your relief. You didn't think they'd understand the concept of time travel.
"There is nothing we can do about the portal now," Elrond said decisively. "It is closed, and if we tried to destroy it, we could only do damage. It is an easy enough position to defend; should an army come through, they'd have only one entryway."
"Says who?" Saruman challenged. "There could be other portals we do not know of, some that people have not had the misfortune of falling into yet. How do we know that this invader is not a spy to seek out these portals and prepare them for war?"
You fought a sigh. Damn this small-minded son of  a bitch... You tried to think of something smart ass to say, but nothing fit the situation.
"They are not, Saruman." Lady Galadriel's voice was sudden, light, and smooth, like honey. It radiated outward with an undeniable power that could make anybody listen to her. "Their thoughts do not lead there." Shit. I mean crap. I mean dang. Mind reader. "They are afraid, and worried... They miss the family they left behind, but they are willing to make a life here, since they have no way of returning."
You nodded. "My thanks, my lady."
Lady Galadriel bowed her head in response.
"Build a life?" Saruman inspected you carefully from where he sat. "You are nothing but an infiltrator. Why should we allow you a place among the citizens of Middle-Earth?"
"It does not have to be here," Thranduil pointed out, and your heart shot to your ankles. "You have an unfortunate habit of collecting needy strays, Elrond; why don't you take them with you when you return to Rivendell?"
Elrond shot him a glare.
Um, I think the fuck not. Lady Galadriel, tell them I say no! Tell them I want to stay here! You thought of the views, and of... of Blue-Eyes...
"Perhaps they should be isolated," Saruman said. "Somewhere they cannot concoct any mischief. Rohan is quite strict, as Gondor is watchful. Either would suffice. Perhaps centuries of isolation in Isengard itself would keep them in line."
"Maybe the Shire would be good for them," Gandalf said. "The hobbits are quite peaceful little creatures. Then again, if isolation is what we are looking for, then Laketown couldn't be better. Or Dale; the dwarves don't let anyone commit any mischief from Erebor."
I don't want to leave...
"Lothlorien would perhaps be suitable," Celeborn added. "Or, maybe even the mines of Moria. I do not have much love for dwarves, but they would be kind enough to them."
"What," Interrupted Galadriel, "Does the subject of our conversation think of this?"
Silence fell. You took a deep breath. "I... I'd like to stay here." You seen Thranduil's head turn slowly to look at you, and you could hear him thinking, the fuck did you just say? "Please, my lord."
A tense silence fell over the room. Finally, Thranduil sighed. "I do not want you here, invader. You would have to prove your loyalty and skill beyond a shadow of a doubt."
You perked up. "Legolas is going on some super-secret missions, right? Maybe I could go with him. You trust him of all people to tell you the truth about me, right? So maybe I could prove myself then."
Thranduil thought about this for a moment. "Legolas is hunting for the orcs who are trying to overtake our borders. He found them, but he let them escape, even though they were a small group. He is leaving in three days with reinforcements; you may join him."
You almost visibly sagged with relief. Almost.
"However," Thranduil added, "If I find his report unsatisfactory, you will go with one of the councilmembers and leave Mirkwood. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
Elrond nodded to you. "You would have a home in Rivendell. It is the last safe haven of the Elves in Middle-Earth." He gave Thranduil a pointed sideways glance. "My people are welcoming and kind. They would be glad to have you." With a slight roll of his eyes, he gestured to Gandalf. "And of course, Mithrandir..."
Gandalf looked excited. "I would take you on my journeys with me, if you so desired. First, I would take you to the Shire. Very nice people, those hobbits. And of course, dwarves would be next."
"I thank you both," You smiled slightly, and you truly were grateful, but... "Then it is settled," Thranduil said authoritively. "Elrond, Gandalf, you are welcome to stay here until Legolas returns."
"I would be grateful," Elrond said, but Gandalf defiantly snorted. "I, dear Elvenking, already have arranged for lodgings in Laketown. Send for me once they arrive, so that I may know what I must do."
You felt buoyed a little. Gandalf didn't one-hundred-percent think you'd fail. And you wouldn't. You'd kick ass. You'd save Blue-Eyes's ass again. You'd come back triumphant, and Thranduil would have to let you stay.
Wouldn't he?
Thranduil left first with Elrond and Celeborn, followed by Gandalf and Saruman closely. Galadriel looked out over to the lake, all shiny and pretty and with her hair billowing majestically. "Why do you wish to stay among those who do not wish for your presence?"
You were stunned by the question. "I-I don't know... I've lived all my life an outcast... The hated one... I've just grown used to it. Being somewhere where people would be nice to me makes me uncomfortable. But there are a couple of people nice to me, and that's enough."
Galadriel was silent for a moment. "You think of him."
"Uhhh..."
"The prince."
You did blush this time. "I-I don't--"
"You are one of the Eldar now, mellon," Galadriel stated slowly. "Eldar only fall in love once. I have known many who have been broken by that which is unrequited. Do not be one of them."
You thought about her words for a second. "I don't love him... I don't even have like a crush on him or anything..." I've only known him for a couple days, overall.
Galadriel nodded slightly into the breeze. "Sieze it, if the chance arises. But if it does not, or if you do not think it will... I advise you to seek for a home elsewhere." You got the gist. If I do fall for him on my mission, and I know it won't go anywhere... Leave, even if I succeed.
Your heart was heavy at that thought, but you knew she was right. "Thank you, my lady."
"You need not thank a friend for giving advice." She smiled at you, and you left the pavilion with a deep bow, trying desperately not to let your heartstrings fall apart.
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@tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​ @hauntedsiriel​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @naryamirie​ @legolasdeserveslove​ @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ @sagabriar​ @brushwood-souls​  @taurlel​
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71 notes · View notes
madamebaggio · 6 years ago
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Request: Lothiriel/ Eomer, stick with canon please. -they met and fell inlove before the war, like lovemaking & almost eloped kind of love. But boy has to break up with her, girl becomes bitter (or she could marry someone else, your choice). After the war, eomer tries to apologize and wins her back. Eomer stays loyal to his girl all this time. Hope you consider, thank you! 😘
Notes: That was a really well-developed idea for a snippet, but I shall do my best. And I loooooove Éomer and Lotty together.
***
Éomer had felt less afraid standing in front of a horde of orcs. He’d been less unsure when he was crowned King of Rohan. He was a strong man that had faced many things. 
However, he didn’t know what he could say to Princess Lothíriel right about now.
He’d messed it up, badly. He had everything he could wish for and he didn’t protect it as he should’ve.
When they fell in love they were younger, and he was just a marshall. Denethor forbid the relationship, because Lothíriel was too much for someone like him. Her father had no choice, but to accept the regent’s orders.
Lothíriel would have eloped with him. She gave the idea, she said she would; and he’d believed her.
But he couldn’t do that to her. Lothíriel was a princess, he couldn’t just elope with her. Not only she deserved a good life, but the problems it might bring to Rohan…
He made a stupid choice; he told her he wouldn’t go, because he would find a better way. Then Gríma came, the war, his banishment… Things piled up and the years went by, and he…
He ruined it all. She wouldn’t answer his letters and her brothers refused to talk about her.
He was here, at Aragorn’s coronation, only hoping to see her. She’d have to be here.
And she was. She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered, with her dark hair and her pale skin… “Lothíriel.” He breathed her name in relief, almost a prayer.
She turned to him, her eyes becoming hard once she recognized him. “Éomer. What a surprise.” Her voice had been cold, colder than he’d thought possible.
And he deserved it, he truly did. However, Éomer hadn’t traveled all the way here to give up just then.
He loved that woman with all his heart and he’d never considered loving another. He was here to get her back, and he’d do it. His heart belonged to the Swan Princess and nobody else.
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abbacchiosbelt · 6 years ago
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tomorrow i am going to spend time working on some stuff i’ve been wanting to write! my brain is weird and i get all frazzled about answering requests and taking time to write some of my own ideas, so i’m gonna make myself do it. yeehaw. i might not finish but i want to work on: succubus s/o!sorlato that my demon brain requested & mayhaps a jealous rohan fic i had an idea for + a minific la squadra multiship series. we shall see.
also i realized in that question someone sent about me i should have included pictures. so here i am, under the cut. behold the gremlin behind this blog.
you get two pictures because i crave validation!!!! where is bruno when you need him!!!!
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and here are the glasses i was going to get but didn’t end up needing... rip, my cute glasses dream
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bonus: me from one of those little icon makers.
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coyoteimagines · 7 years ago
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A Stubborn Woman - Lord of the Rings
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No real request. Mostly written to make myself feel better.
Words: 1,820
Warnings: Some blood and battle and stuff. Some FLUFF.
Éomer had seen his fair share of battles, he had seen men die before. But this…this was different. The smell of blood in the air was so thick he could taste its coppery twinge on his tongue with every breath. The White City behind him still belched smoke as he walked the battlefield, boots squelching in the mud made red and black with the blood of both man and orc.
He kept his eyes low, searching for the king amidst the fallen. He had no hope for his uncle, in his heart he knew he had fallen. But his heart was unprepared when he caught sight of a soldier, kneeling over a body, desperately trying to wake the fallen up.
He knew that face. Even streaked with dirt, he knew that hair. Even disguised in armor, laced with despair, he knew the voice that pleaded with the unconscious to wake up. And his blood turned to ice, for he also knew the figure you were shaking.
“No. no. no.” It started as little more than a breathy whisper but grew in volume as he lunged forward, running towards you. You looked up at the sound of his cries, your own tears streaking down your face.
“NOOOO.” A cry of pure anguish tore from his chest as he collapsed to his knees beside you. He tore his sister from your arms and into his own.
“She lives Éomer.” You said through your own tears. “Tho I cannot wake her. And..and I can’t carry her to the healers.”
He looked up from his sister and into your eyes for a brief second before reaching out and pulling you against him as well. You clung to him and began again to sob, relief that he was alive flooding through you like a warm blanking. Its warmth temporarily making you forget the pain your body felt.
“Why are you here? Why did you not stay?” He whispered in between sobs. You pulled yourself away.
“There is no time for questions my love. You must get your sister to the healers. She killed the Witch King and I fear his evil has poisoned her.” You began to stand when his arm caught your shoulder.
“Y/N I will not leave you.” He said, almost pleading. You glanced up to his men, coming up behind him.
“The battle is over. I am fine. I am safe now. Get Éowyn to help. I shall lead your men to the king, he deserves his death rites.” You shrugged out of his grasp and placed a loving hand on his cheek before kissing his forehead. “Go. I shall find you when I am finished.” You whispered and you motioned for his men to follow you.
Éomer watched for a few seconds as you led his men through winding rows of bodies before he turned his attention back to his sister. If he had watched for a moment longer he would have seen you stumble, arms clutched around your middle before waving off his men that stepped forward to help you.
Instead he stood, whistling for his horse. He gently placed his sister on the saddle before swinging up behind her. He rode swiftly for the White City, but his mind lingered on the battle field with you. His wife.
-----------------------------------------------
“My…lady?” The rider asked, stepping up to help you as you stumbled. He, and the rest of the men were still confused as to why the wife of their captain was clad in armor, and had obviously fought alongside them.
“I am fine.” You said through clenched teeth, pulling your cloak a little tighter so they would not see the red that stained your hand as you pulled it away from your stomach. You walked a few minutes more till you came upon the body of the Nazgul.
“Here.” You said reverently. “Here lies our king.”
With the utmost care the Rohirrim men freed the king from under his horse and covered him with a cloak of green. As they worked, you turned, meaning to begin your walk to the city when your vision went hazy and you stumbled once again, this time falling to your knees. The same rider as before crouched beside you.
“Perhaps I am not as fine as I thought.” You said, closing your eyes. “I might require some assistance getting to the city.”
The man nodded.
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When you walked into the Houses of healing, aided by the rider from before, you were shocked at the number of wounded. Men were everywhere, with women in pale dresses and head scarves running every which way.
“How serious is he.” One such woman asked.
“Tis a lady. And I do not know the extent of her wounds.” The rider stated. The woman glanced at you before moving to replace the rider in helping you walk.
“Come on my dear, let us get you to somewhere with more privacy.”
She led you into a room and pulled a curtain over the door. The room was small and barren save for a bed and washbasin and a small cradle.
“This is normally a room reserved for child birthing…but it will suffice. Sit down.” The lady unclasped your cloak and began removing your armor. You hissed as your leather chest plate was peeled off of you, revealing the blood soaked tunic beneath. The woman cut this off of you as well, leaving your torso bare. She frowned as she ran a finger over the cut that ran nearly a foot across your belly.
“You are lucky this seems shallow. But you have lost a fair amount of blood.” She mumbled as she began to cleanse the wound. “What would possess a woman to fight willingly in such a battle?”
You thought for a moment.
“Love.”
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Éomer sighed as he stood to leave his sisters room. Aragorn’s healing had saved her and now there was little he could do other than to let her sleep. Now his worried turned to you. You had promised to find him when you were finished with the king and…surely your duties would not have kept you so long. He stepped into the main hall of the Houses of Healing and began walking the rows of the wounded when he caught sight of one of the men that had followed you to look for the king.
“Rider.” He called out, the man sat up from the bedroll he was snoozing on.
“My lord?”
“You were with my wife. Where is she?” Éomer asked, noticing the man’s grimace at the question.
“I’m sorry my lord. I thought someone would have told you. She was hurt, we brought her here.”
His heart dropped at this answer and he felt his blood chill once again.
“Where?” He forced out.
“I don’t know. The healers took her.”
Éomer turned quickly around until he spied one of the healer and he forced himself not to sprint as he made his way toward her.
“Healer!” He called out. “They brought in a woman. Clad in men’s armor. Where is she?”
“Two women they brought in. Ones up there.” She pointed to the room where Eowyn was. “And the others just in there.” She pointed a thumb over a shoulder to a room just off the main hall, doorway covered by a curtain of blue.
Éomer could not restrain himself this time and he launched himself past the healer and through the curtain where he fell breathlessly onto his knees at the side of your bed.
“Y/n” He gasped. Your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head to see your husband, completely out of breath at the side of your bed.
“Éomer?” You blinked. “Oh I must have dozed off. I meant to come find you. How is Éowyn”
You sat up and winced. Noticing this, Éomer lifted himself to sit on the bed beside you. He pulled down your blankets and lifted the white tunic you had been given to reveal your bandage wrapped abdomen.
“She is fine. Resting. I thought you said YOU were fine.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I left you. I LEFT you!”
You pulled him gently against you and he buried his head into the side of your neck. One hand clutched tight at your arm, you were sure there would be bruises. His other hand slid up the other side of your neck to cup your cheek. Your heart broke when you felt the moisture of his tears dampen your neck.
“Éomer…” You pulled his hand from your cheek and turned his head to look up at you. Your noses almost touching.
“I am fine.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. HE pulled away and ran a calloused finger over the top of your bandage.
“This is not fine. I could have lost you. You could have…died.” He looked up to you, tears still glistening in his eyes. “What in the name of all that is holy possessed you to ride to war!?”
“I would not let Éowyn face battle alone. And I…I admit I saw no way to victory in this battle. I feared you would fall. And I would rather die on the same battlefield as you than live without you.” You felt tears spring to your own eyes.
“And what if you had been killed. What then would I have done?” He reached a thumb to brush away the tears that slipped onto your cheek.
“Now you know how I feel every time I had to watch you ride out of the gates of Edoras.” You pushed him back a little, forcing a smile. “Besides. I had the best sword training in all of Rohan.”
“I trained you so you could defend yourself as a last resort Y/n. Not to dress as a man and fight in a war.” He returned your smile before dropping his gaze back to your stomach. “How bad is it?”
“Tis shallow, I will be fine. With hope, it may not even scar.”
“It would be a pity to mar such beauty with the scar of something so…brutal.” He mumbled, his fingers trailing the edges of your bandages again.
“Surely you love me for more than just my skin?” You pulled his fingers to your lips and kissed them softly. He responded in kind, leaning forward to capture your lips between his own.
“I love you because you are the most insane,” He kissed you again, “Stubborn.” Kiss. “foolish.” Kiss. “And brave woman I have ever met.” And then a deeper kiss. “But please.” And he only pulled back a half inch to continue, the breath of his words running hot over your own mouth. “Never do this to me ever again.”
“I make no promises.” You whispered. This time he did pull back.
“I hate you.” He said with an exasperated smile.
“I know.” You said with an impish smile of your own, tugging him against your lips once more.
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its-allaboutfanfic · 8 years ago
Text
The art of flirting (Legolas x Reader)
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This shot is based on  this imagine by @imaginexhobbit: 
>>Imagine Legolas trying to flirt with you, but not actually understanding the correct way to flirt, so it’s just an awkward mess and Aragorn has to intervene and tell you what Legolas is trying to say<<
This sounded really cute, so I gave it a shot, I hope y’all enjoy it xx. I had a lot of fun writing it, at any rate.
Word count: 1658
Warnings: again a lot of fluff and a pretty OOC Legolas. I guess it was unavoidable, but I gave my best. 
Tomorrow I’ll work on anon’s request *excited* you others: feel free to send me some too! (づ。◕‿‿◕。)づ
~*~
It hadn't been long since you, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf had arrived in Rohan, just to find King Théoden under a powerful spell of Saruman.
The evil wizard had bewitched his mind and had brought Théoden so far, that the poor man had not even been able to built an opinion on his own.
Luckily, Gandalf had managed to break the spell and free Théoden from Saruman's influence, for that the King now had gained his mind back  and could proplery grieve about the death of his son.
As a sign of his gratitude, Théoden had ordered a bankett for the five of you for tonight and right now, you were getting ready for it.
Éowyn had even borrowed you one of her beautiful (F/C) dresses, which suited you perfectly and made you look satisfied with yourself at your reflection in the mirror.
You also tried to braid some strands of your long (H/C) hair in an elvish kind of way, just because you liked it, even if this was at least what you tried to convince yourself of.
If you were complete honest, you only did it to impress Legolas.
You had found yourself staring at him dreamily more frequently and let's face it, the Elven prince was one hell of an eye candy with his slim but also muscular figure, silky hair and striking blue eyes. Even the way he was kicking ass was full of grace and if it were up to you, you could watch him doing that all day.
So you gave your best with the braids and when you eventually found that you couldn't do any better, you decided then that it was finally time for the bankett.
It looked like you were the last one of your friends, who had appeared to the feast and as you went to sit on the same table as them, they all gave you a friendly smile, well, except for Legolas.
The elf was grinning at you huge and brightly, so that if you’d wanted, you could've counted every single one of his 32 pearl white teeth.
But instead you smiled back cautiously, because even though you bet he meant it friendly, it nevertheless did look a bit like a scary grimace and he only stopped, when Aragorn nudged him with his elbow and hissed something, that didn't reach your ears.
Legolas so-called smile then immediately dropped and he gave Aragorn an answer, starting a conversation, so that you sat down beside of Gandalf without any other occasion. At least not yet.
The meal began and the wizard had just finished telling you a story about a brave hobbit, who had once faced a dragon only on hisself and survived it – in fact this hobbit was a relative of Frodo – as Legolas clearing his throat brought your attention back to the blonde elf.
You found him looking at you with a weird expression, his eyes were slightly narrowed and only one of his mouth angles was turned up into a smile, giving him a strange mischivous look, that you were not used from him.
„Um, is there something you wanted to say, Legolas...?“
„Your beauty is beyond words, (Y/N), if your mother would see you tonight, she'd be the proudest woman alive for that she gave birth to such loveliness.“
You choked on the water that you were trying to drink right before he talked,  as your cheeks went bright red.
You could've sworn, that you'd heard Aragron groan after Legolas said those words and Gandalf beside you tried to cover his amusement with coughs, while Gimli started to giggle.
What was going on with the prince? Was he making fun of you? You hoped not.
„Your hair looks as soft as the fur of the white Mearas horses and if any artist of this earth would catch a sight of your fineness, they'd fight against each other and wouldn't ever leave you alone for that they could draw your angelic features until eternity.“
Gimli's laughter was now resounded in the whole hall you and the other guests were dining in and you couldn't help but blush more and more with every word Legolas said.
He was looking at you with that weird grin throughout the whole time and as he openend his mouth again, probably to go on with his embarrassing declarations to you,  Aragorn quickly intervened and put a hand on his friend's shoulder.
„I think that's enough, that was not what I meant“, he murmured in Legolas' direction, leaving the elf looking at him questioningly and then turned to you, giving you an apologetic smile.
„I think what Legolas here was trying to say, is that you look beautiful tonight, (Y/N)  and he wanted to ask you, if you would maybe spare a few minutes of your time after dinner for him, because he'd like to talk to you about something.“
You hestitated a bit, still not sure what was going on, but after you looked in Legolas' now again normal but a bit red face and unfathomable eyes, you couldn't – not that you wanted - resist and slightly nodded.
„Of course I would.“
Until the feast ended, you weren't really able to focus or concentrate on your food or anything besides what was possibly going to happen after you'd finish your meal.
You tried to catch Legolas' gaze a few times, but after Aragorn had silently explained to him, that what he had said to you was more awkward than engaging, he had avoided you with his eyes since then.
But as soon as you dropped your fork, being finished with your food, he looked right up to you through his long, dark lashes.
„Shall we?“, the blonde elf asked and stood up as you did the same. „Yes“, you said, whilst your heart was pounding loudly in your ears.
He led you outside to a lonely bench, not far away from the others, but nevertheless hidden from their gaze by trees and shrubs.
You sat down and he sat beside you, as you heard him drawing in his breath loudly.
„(Y/N)-“
„Legolas-“, you both said simultaneously and then stopped and smiled shyly at each other.
„You go first“, you told him chuckling, causing him to join your laughter nervously, before he locked your gaze with his and started to talk.
„About earlier,“ he began, „Aragorn had told me to compliment you to express my feelings for you, but, as you surely noticed, it didn't work out so well for me.“
You giggled a bit at his words and he offered you a weak smile, before he continued.
„So I think it would be best, if I'd just do it my way“, while he was talking, he took both of your hands in his, causing you to blush as you lost yourself in his gaze, that now turned soft as he noticed the color in your cheek and all you could see in his astonishing eyes, that were as blue and clear as a cloudless spring sky, were honesty and devotion.
„I love you, (Y/N) and there a more than a thousand ways of how I could circumscribe my feelings for you. For example there is this light, that always seems to surround you, which draws me to you like the sea to the moon. Or your determination to stand in for what is right to you, is something I learned to admire. Or how I had always thought that the sound of a violine was my favorite, but only because I hadn't heard the sound of your laugh since then“, he paused and you just stared at him in awe, not sure if your ears were deceiving you.
„There was a time in my life, (Y/N), where my being had no true purpose and I didn't have an aim that I could work or train for, but then you appeared,“ he cupped your cheek with one hand, „and I suddenly started to curse myself for my urge to sleep, for that I didn't and still don't want to miss any possible second, that I could spend with you. I love you and I hope you feel the same way for me.“
You had listened to his words, that sounded like music to your ears, without interrupting him once and only as Legolas tenderly wished your tears away with his thumb, you noticed that you were crying.
„Don't cry, mela en' coiamin“, he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
You closed your eyes, then opened them as you took his hand from your cheek and kissed it, smiling at him through teary eyes.
„Don't you ever change yourself for me again, Legolas, because I love you just the way you are. Your words were more than I had ever dared myself to dream for and I'll try to prove myself worthy for them as long as you allow me to.“
The smile Legolas gave you after your words wasn't the one from earlier at the bankett, where he had tried too much and wasn't really meaning it. This one right now was filled with honest joy and lit up every corner of your heart.
He moved forward, cupped your face and kissed you passionately, carrying you away with his pure happiness and love.
His soft mouth caressed yours, his tongue slightly licking along your bottom lip, making you allowing him entrance into your mouth.
As your lips parted, he brought his forehead to yours, both of you still panting for breath.
„That means you'll have to stay by my side until the very end“, he stated.
„There is no way I'd rather spend my life until then“, you smiled, diving in to press your lips on his once more.
/////////////////////////////////
mela en' coiamin = love of my life
//////////////////////////////////
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padfootagain · 7 years ago
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The First Horse
I've received 2 requests for Eomer being a dad, so here we go!!
I haven't written much for this character yet, so please, tell me if I'm doing okay.
Just cuteness, and cuteness and cuteness.
Gif not mine
Word Count : 1888
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The sunrises were your favourite moment of the day. You always woke up early to watch the golden light bathing the fields of Rohan, as the inflamed orb climbed above the white mountains.  
It also gave you an excuse to watch your husband peacefully sleeping in your bed, next to the window.
You had learned to appreciate this moment of the day more than any other. The stillness of the Kingdom at your feet, the light songs of the birds, the cool rays of sunshine, the chilly air, the burning ice of the mountains, this expression of peace on Eomer's face…
You had survived the War of the Ring together. You had seen sorrow and fear in his eyes. You had helped him to overcome the traumas brought by war. And he had done the same for you.
Years had passed now, but worry was still often painted on his brow. Worry for other matters, but you knew it still tortured him. He was King now, he had the fate of his people in his hands. He was carrying the weight of all Rohan on his shoulders. And that's why you appreciated this relaxed look on his face so much…
You turned you gaze back to the young day, watching the banners float in the wind. Three riders were braving the early lights and leaving the safety of the city, crossing the hills covered with grass.
You didn't hear Eomer standing from the bed behind you, you were too focused on the world that slowly woke up before you. But you didn't jump as he wrapped his strong arms around you from behind. You were too much used to his touch by now, you could recognize it in a second.
"How does the world look today?" he asked softly, his morning voice sounding husky and sending shivers through your spine.
"The world looks good. Bright. At peace," you answered with a smile.
He dropped sweet pecks onto your neck as he spoke again.
"A good day for Eoras's birthday."
You smiled, nodding your head.
"I know you are always busy," you asked softly, "but could you…?"
"I will take care of no duties this afternoon," he interrupted you, guessing your next words.
Your smile turned into a grin.
"I thought that I could show him his birthday present myself, what do you think?" he went on.
You nodded enthusiastically.
"I should let you have a ride with him alone," you decided. "I know that he worries much these days."
"Really? Is that so?"
"I do not know the reason behind such a worry though, he refuses to tell me. But you always have a way to make him feel better."
"Well… he is my son."
You turned towards him, resting your forehead upon his shoulder, letting his fingers get lost in your hair.
"Don't go too far in the fields…" you admonished, but Eomer merely laughed at you.
"Our son has the blood of a Rohirrim!"
"He still is my baby…"
"You are overprotective."
"Well… you didn't complain about me being overprotective when I saved you during the War…"
"Now, now… that was a completely different time and completely different situation."
You both laughed, holding on each other tightly.
"Try to talk to him," you went on, growing more serious again.
"I will."
You remained standing there for a long while, your eyes closed as you buried your face in his bare chest, breathing deeply his leathery scent, while he lost his gaze amongst the infinite fields shaken by the wind.
And when you finally moved away from his embrace, Edoras was already awake.
 ---------------------------------------------------
 Your son was over-excited. Eomer was a loving father, but his duties often kept him busy, and the days when he could spend entire afternoons with his family were rare.
To the boy, spending so much time alone with his father was the best birthday gift imaginable already. He hurried during his studies, but you didn't blame him. It was his birthday after all…
When Eomer finally joined the two of you in the beginning of the afternoon, the boy hurried towards him with a bright grin on his face.
"Mother told me you would spend the afternoon with me!" he grinned up at the tall King.
Eomer let out a chuckle.
"Did she now? Well… after all… it is your birthday. Of course we'll be together today!"
"I'll see you later then," you came closer to your two men. "The afternoon is all yours. But do not try to eat the cake without me!"
"We won't, mother!" the boy promised.
You nodded, walking away and letting your husband alone with your son. Eomer wasted no time, and guided his child across the castle to show him his birthday present.
He stopped before the Royal stables.
"Well, Eoras," he said slowly, bending down to bring his face levelled with his son's. "You are thirteen now. You are approaching manhood. Your mother and I thought that it was time to give you more responsibilities. Do you think that you are ready?"
The boy nodded, staring intensely at his father, his blond curls floating in the wind.
"Then follow me, my son."
They walked together beyond the large wooden doors carved in the shapes of horse heads. And for all this time, the boy was wondering what his gift could be.
When his father stopped before a black horse, the boy merely looked up at him with wide eyes.
"His name is Leren. Take good care of him."
"You… I…" the boy stuttered, struggling to find back his voice. "Is it… my horse?"
"Indeed," Eomer nodded.
He invited his son to get closer, and Eoras softly stroked Leren's powerful jaws.
"You will have to take care of him," Eomer repeated. "Make sure he is well fed, clean him, make sure he is healthy. The stallion is already tamed, but you will have to make sure that the bound between the two of you is strong enough for him to follow you anywhere, even in battle. Do you understand, Eoras?"
The boy nodded.
"He's beautiful," he breathed in awe.
"And now he's yours."
"Thank you."
The child was beaming up at his father, and there was so much happiness in his eyes that Eomer felt his heart tighten with emotions.
"What about we go for a little ride together?" Eomer proposed.
His son nodded frantically, already jumping towards his saddle to get his horse ready.
Eomer watched his son getting ready, but he didn't need to help him. The boy was doing just fine on his own. But then, Eomer and you had made sure that he knew how to handle these fearful creatures after all.
Just a few minutes later, they were both riding out of Edoras, aiming for the hills covered with yellowish grass made rough by the hot weather.
Eomer helped his son commanding his horse for a while, until  the boy was able to control his horse under a gallop on his own.
They kept on riding for a long while, the sun already starting its course towards the nearest mountains. But Eomer had not forgotten about your words and the worry that was painted on your face that morning. So he dismounted for a while, guiding his son and the horses on the top of the closest hill.
For a moment, he sat down on the scratchy grass in silence, watching the yellowish sea before him, its motionless waves blocking the view, and yet letting his gaze reach the highest peaks beyond.
The wind blew quite violently on the top of the hill, and the boy next to him closed the buttons of his coat.
"I used to come here with my sister when I was around your age," Eomer spoke out of the blue. "We spent hours wandering across the fields, but we always ended up here, on this hill…"
He turned towards his son, his stare full of warmth.
"Your mother is worried," he said. "She told me that some matters troubled you."
The boy looked away in a hurry, fleeing his father's gaze.
"It is nothing, father," he breathed.
"Do not lie to me," Eomer warned him, his voice colder now. "Nothing good can ever come out of a lie. Is that understood, young man?"
The boy nodded sheepishly.
"There is no shame in being worried," Eomer reassured the child. "So now, tell me what bothers you."
The boy hesitated for a few more minutes, before looking shyly up at his father.
"I… I am scared."
"What are you scared of?" Eomer asked softly, resting his large and calloused hand on the boy's shoulder. "Rohan is safe. You are safe here."
"I… do not know how… What if I am not a good King?"
He looked up at his father with eyes full of terror.
But the man next to him merely smiled at him.
"Why would you be a bad King? You are no evil."
"But you… you are such a great King… What if I can't be as good as you are? What if our people is disappointed?"
"You will not have to bear this responsibility before a long time, son," Eomer replied with confidence. "But either way… I am not perfect, and my steps have led me to make mistakes many times already, and I am certain that fate has prepared more mistakes for me to make later on my path. As long as you try your best to defend our people, then you will always be a good King, son. And anyway, as I said, you shall not bear those duties before long years have passed. I am far from ready to go."
"I know that I still have some time. But it still is scary. Were you not scared by then? When you were still supposed to be King but were not one yet?"
"I was not raised to be King, Theoden had a son. I was trained to guide soldiers, and lead armies. I was a Rohirrim, not a Prince. But when your people is in need, you cannot turn your back and leave. You must face the responsibilities that fall upon you, even if you were not prepared to handle them. Do you understand? Our loyalty belongs to Rohan. And our duty is to protect Rohan at all costs. I was scared when I became King, I was unprepared. But what was the most important… and what helped me… was the fact that I was not alone."
"Really?"
"Your mother was already by my side. And she was already the strongest woman I have ever met."
The boy smiled.
"She is…" he nodded slowly.
"There is no need to worry, son, not for now. You have time still. Time to be a child still. Time to learn how to be a man, before trying to learn how to be a King."
The child nodded again, turning back towards his horse.
"I think we should go back," he said softly. "We should eat the cake with mother."
Eomer laughed, but stood up anyway.
"Indeed, you are right."
Before the crows could settle down in the branches of the nearby tree, Eomer and your son were gone, galloping back to the city to see you.
And Eoras's mind was at peace once more…
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dalleyan · 5 years ago
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Juxtaposition, ch. 11 posted 6-13-20
Saruman's army failed to eliminate the heir to Rohan's throne. How did that alter Eomer's destiny?
Chapter 11   (begins 7 May, 3020 III)
They lost track of the time and were late coming to the supper table, though no one appeared concerned. In fact, Eomer would swear Eowyn wore a pleased smirk whenever she thought he wasn’t looking in her direction. That could only mean they had been spotted in the garden and assumptions – correct ones – had been made.  No doubt his sister would be taking all the credit of it as well.  Just to annoy her, he made no reference to his change in situation, and pretended to take no particular notice of Lothiriel, difficult though it was to accomplish.  Fortunately, Eowyn sat in the opposite direction from Lothiriel at the table, so when he did look at the latter, Eowyn could not see his eyes.  He was certain they would give him away if she could.
His efforts had the desired effect, for Eowyn was fairly twitching with curiosity by the end of the meal.  She waited for him to request an audience with Imrahil, but instead, he announced, “I am rather weary this evening.  Perhaps I will retire early.”
Unable to restrain herself, Eowyn exclaimed, “Eomer!” 
There was an entire tirade put into that single word, but he managed to hold his countenance as he raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction.  “Yes, Eowyn?”
She was so irritated, she couldn’t form words, but Lothiriel was consumed with laughter just then and saved her the trouble.  “Do not torment your sister so!” Lothiriel chided him.  “She only wishes your happiness.”
“Actually,” Eomer replied, glancing pointedly at Eowyn, “she is as meddlesome as my cousin, but since I am the one who will benefit, she shall get a reprieve.  My dear friend Imrahil – may I speak with you privately?”
Clearly Imrahil was in no doubt as to the nature of the conversation.  “But of course, Eomer.  Come with me to my study.”  Rising from the table, he added to their companions, “If you will excuse us.” 
The rest of their number did not argue about their departure and all were grinning like fools, causing Eomer to roll his eyes.  Was everyone in on it?
Despite his professed annoyance with Eowyn, the battle of wills they had engaged in over supper had helped ease his tension about this moment.  He reminded himself that Imrahil had already agreed to this match in theory, and now had only to formally acknowledge his approval.
The Prince moved directly to the sideboard and poured them each a goblet of wine.  After handing one to Eomer, he sat in a comfortable chair and crossed his legs, looking expectantly at the young man.  “You have something you would discuss with me?” he prompted.
Eomer nodded, slowly seating himself in a chair that he drew to face the older man.  “I realize I am not the first to broach this subject with you, but I…should very much wish to wed your daughter.  I swear I will do all in my power to make her happy for the remainder of her life.”  Perhaps a little direct and succinct, but since they both knew what was to be said on each side, there seemed little reason to draw this out unnecessarily.
Imrahil nodded.  “I am very pleased to hear it.  I understand that you have had some reservations about how both Lothiriel and I would respond to your proposal, and I can assure you that neither of us finds you wanting in any way.  There are differences between our cultures, it is true, but you are an honorable man, a devoted friend and, most importantly of all, you have won Lothiriel’s heart.  I could not ask for more.”
Eomer swallowed hard, before answering huskily.  “I thank you. That is most kind of you to say.”
“Not kind,” Imrahil corrected.  “It is the truth.  And, now then, I am thinking we should discuss the arrangements sooner rather than later, considering the situation.”
continue reading on AO3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24082984/chapters/59713441
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