#like?? to fully understand something in another language translating it isnt enough you need to

[bednbunfast]

everything feels like it's falling apart,,

[rosa-berberifolia]

The Long Haul|LOTR x Reader|Eomer x Reader - Part 1

A/N: Part 1 ... 4 I think. This is my first time writing Lord of The Rings I think. Please be kind. Italics are memories or flashbacks. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not that familiar with the books. So if something isnt canon, sorry. But its just a story guys. Make like Elsa and Let It Go.

Warnings: mentions of injury and blood, black magic, probably some language, witch reader

Word Count: 1550ish

----

You were looking for anything edible left in the general vicinity of where you had made your encampment for the time being. You could have conjured up some food for yourself, but that was time consuming if you wanted anything to have any flavor. So you opted to scour the area for something that was left over from the last spell. 

It was upon your hands and knees in the forests of Fangorn that you noticed the blood that had been trickled onto the shrubbery. You gasped quietly to yourself. Alarm filled your body. It made your spine tingle. Fear ripped through you in an instant and all measure of safety that you had previously felt about your new location had been thrown away.

You looked around the battlefield and something in you changed. Nearly a hundred men, women, and children were strewn about the dirt, dead and bloodied. Why were you doing this? Did nobody else think that this was terrible? This was really the only thing you knew being the daughter of the Witch King of Angmar. Death and blood and destruction.

You were lost in the sight of a young boy, maybe three or four, face down in the ground next to his mother and father. It was then that you decided that this was a horrible, evil way to be. And you would have none of it anymore. In broad daylight, when your father and his minions were having their rest, you cast the most powerful concealment incantation you could, and you left.

You moved around frequently, never staying anywhere for more than a few days. In this lifestyle you found that you ran into the same person rather frequently. A young man named Aragorn. He taught you how to be kind. What loyalty and friendship were. He taught you some light magics that he had learned from the elves. In time, he took you to Rivendell where you became acquainted with Lord Elrond. Even becoming a member of his council in troubling times. Thanks to Aragorn, you had friends, and you knew love.

You dabbed the blood with your finger, sniffed it, and then tasted it on your tongue. You were relieved to learn that it was not the blood of any fell creature that might have been tracking you. Instead, you could tell right away that his was the blood of a man.

You shot up from the ground and followed the blood, looking for whoever was wounded. You came across a body clad in armor laying on the forest floor. You quietly walked up to them. Their face was covered  by long blonde hair that hung over their face, but you could still make out that their eyes were closed. You crouched in front of them and tried to shake them awake but to no avail. You brushed the hair way from his face and you were pleasantly surprised by his handsome features. Inspecting his body for the source of the wound, you found an arrow in his side that was to the ground. Checking for a heartbeat you turned him onto his back, and were relieved again when you found his pulse. You knew that if you were to remove the arrow and not be able to stop the bleeding he would die. And you wouldn’t be able to stop the bleeding without using black magic without your supplies back at your camp.

“Tensorva tsette risil.”[1] you muttered and then the body levitated a foot or so off of the ground. Just high enough that you could push him through the forest to where your camp was set up.

Letting the man down onto your makeshift bed, you were able to remove his armor and tunic and then start to work getting together the instruments you would need to heal him quickly enough.

You found the light of Nestando, which was given to you as a gift from Celeborn and Galadriel. That, with the book of incantations that you had filled with everything that Aragorn and Lord Elrond had taught you, you were ready to pull out the man’s arrow from him side. 

You held the light to his wound, pulled out the arrow, and then immediately said, “Calanin cannye pustallo serceya.”[2] Chanting the same incantation over and over until the light from Nestando shone and the open wound on the man’s side stopped oozing. “Nestando, a mairecca.”[3] You asked the light, and slowly, almost unnoticeably, the wound started to get smaller.

After you were sure that the man did not need anymore magical attention, you set to work cleaning him up.

///

The man woke with a start. It made you jump a little as you sat in front of the pot that hung over the fire. You just shook your head and continued stirring the contents of the pot. You were able to look to the left and watch everything that the man was doing. He frantically felt around his abdomen, no doubt looking for the wound he remembered getting. When he noticed the tensor wrapped around his waist he looked up and judged his surroundings.His weapons and armor were on the ground across the camp. He eyed you warily and you him.

“Who are you?” He spoke with harsh authority. You couldn’t help the little smirk that started on your face at his false control he tried to have over the situation.

“My name is Y/n.” You told him going back to the pot over the fire.

“You healed me?” He asked bluntly again. You just nodded. “Why?” he asked in a short manner. You sighed and poured some of the pot’s liquid into a small bowl, stood up and looked at him, face listless.

“Did you want to die?” You asked matter of factly. “I could just kill you if you wish it.” Then you made your way over to the cot he was laying on and handed him the bowl.

“What is this? Poison?” He glared at you.

“Butternut squash soup. But I can put together some poison if you’d prefer.”

The man sighed, and looked at the ground as though he were ashamed of himself. Looking back up at you, he took the bowl from you. His voice was softer when he spoke, “No. Thank you for the soup. And for healing me. I am afraid I have been rude to my savior.”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, but that’s okay. I get it.” You went back to the pot and poured yourself a bowl.

“I am Eomer...of Rohan.” He said. You looked back at him and nodded your greeting. He nodded back to you, and then you sat and silently ate your soup.

///

“Will I find you here again?” Eomer asked you as he loaded up the provisions you had given him to make it back home.

“Probably not.” You informed him. “I move around a lot.”

“What if I want to find you again?” He looked almost worried. It took you by surprise. You had never been accountable to someone other than your father. The fact that his nice man wanted to see you again was almost startling. It took you a second to find yourself. But you ended up shrugging and shaking your head.

“I’ll find you.” You said.

Eomer smiled and turned to you fully. He put a gentle hand on your cheek, running his thumb along the skin there. You pulled back a bit. No one had ever touched you like that before. Not even your father. Before Aragorn, the only time someone had ever touched you was to hit you. Sometimes Aragorn would put a hand on your shoulder. You have since shaken the hand of many men, women, and elves. Even a wizard once. But nothing had ever been as affectionate as this.

“Thank you.” Eomer said, looking deeply into your eyes. You looked back, seeing a sort of revelry in his. You were so enthralled in him that you had no time to react when he leaned down and placed a small, but meaningful kiss to your lips. Your eyes shot open, but you didn’t move. After a moment he pulled away and rest his forehead against yours. And after another moment of that he pulled away entirely and started backwards, giving you a tip of his head to say goodbye. You replied in kind and watched him as he turned and started on his journey home.

“Eaya varna.”[4] You whispered, genuinely sad to see him go.

The walk back to your camp was lonely. You held your arms around your sides as you walked. You were physically alright, but you still felt as though a void was growing in your body. You were almost so enraptured by the loss you were feeling that you hadn’t noticed the stag in your camp, clicking away at you.

“Gwest.”[5] You greeted the stag putting your hand out for it as slowly walked towards it. It clicked at you and let you come to him. 

“Man nalye?”[6] You asked his identity, “Manan nalye hi?”[7] And then his purpose here. You closed your eyes and took in his clicks, listening intently, trying to understand him.

“Mentava Elrond.”[8] You heard a low voice in your head. You nodded your thanks to the stag, and then it meandered away. You immediately turned and packed up everything in your camp, stashing it all away in an enchanted bag before heading off to Rivendell to see what Elrond needed of you.

---

Rough translations guys. Gimme a break.

[1] Tensor’s floating disc.

[2] My light, stop his bleeding

[3] Nestando, do your work

[4] Be safe

[5] Greetings

[6] Who are you?

[7] Why are you here?

[8] Message from Elrond