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[aralas-week]

Aralas Week 2024 Fiction

Fic: Archery Passion

Author: CatNoirz

Prompt: Day 1 Before Fellowship

Summary: One day, Estel became very interested in archery.

Read here

A late entry for @aralas-week again lol XD. I wrote this to cure my depression so it's purely fluff and cute.

[aralas-week]

Fic Rec: LOTR

Title: a promise like winter Author: @queerofthedagger with art by @magicinavalon Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas Summary: They have always lived more on stolen moments than in marital beds, but there is an urgency to this now, a fear of numbered days and looming futures. It makes them both hold on too tightly, makes teeth find exposed flesh, fingers burying into skin until they bruise.

And again some beautiful storytelling for @aralas-week by the amazingly talented @queerofthedagger. This is a little snippet, ficlet, gapfiller - whatever you want to call it - depicting a stolen moment while the fellowship travels down the Anduin. This is barely over a 1000 words, but a lot is said in here. I love those stories (and authors) that open up a whole world for me with just a few brushstrokes. Le sigh.

[aralas-week]

hoi how late is late for submission? and should i just wait until next year to try again?

There's no time limit for due late submission. Feel free to tag here as long as you had completed your work. Hope this helping you.

[aralas-week]

Fic for Aralas Week 2024

Title: How hard Online dating can be?

Yes, I'm suck at naming my fanfic

Summary:

[Greeny: I'm so bored. This history lesson is killing me. Wish I'm on your lap and learn more about your "history" ;)]

The entire class erupted with gasps and murmurs. It was clear that everyone was in shock as they stared at the projector screen.

On the screen, the text he just sent unexpectedly popped up from the corner! Meanwhile, his 'so hot yet ever so calm' history professor barely batted an eye. With an air of unflappable composure, Professor Elessar calmly dismissed the notification and continued with the lecture as if nothing had happened.

Note: This is for @aralas-week, thank you for organizing this event. Thanks to the intense stare of @vamp-ress that I'm able to finish this. Although I feel the ending isn't quite satisfying, it's the best I could do. Hopefully, I didn't accidentally include any lines from my paper in the fic.

Read here

[aralas-week]

Finally! We reached here. Day 7 of aralas week has finished. We are still open for late submissions. Thank you so much for your extraordinary works. Hopefully you enjoying the dish ~

[aralas-week]

Day 7!! Congrats on completing your works amazingly~

Fic: The Journey (7/7)

Title: The Journey Author: Michelle Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com Beta: WGR, thank you for your help! All remaining mistakes are my own. Summary: Legolas agrees to be part of the fellowship as a favour to the Evenstar. He gets more than he bargained for. Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas, background Aragorn/Arwen, past Legolas/Arwen Genre: Slash, (Movie)Gapfiller Rating: NC17 Disclaimer: Nothing in Middle Earth is mine, but the world is too tempting to be left alone. Author’s Note I: How Aragorn and Legolas met – the millionth reiteration of that trope. I alone have written at least three different versions so far. Since I was too lazy to research any of this (apart from checking the appendices for dates) and knowing full well that I’m contradicting the book in certain places (but not caring in the least), I call this movieverse (with my usual sprinkles of bookverse). Author’s Note II: This was written for @aralas-week, a week-long event for all sorts of fanworks providing seven prompts. I decided to use all seven prompts – meaning that this will be one continuous story in seven parts. The prompt words are: Before the fellowship, Between Anduin and Rohan, To Lothlórien, Siege of Gondor, Coronation, After Journey, The Final.

Read the conclusion to this story, Chapter 7: The Stars on AO3 || DW

Bonus: Read the Making of on DW!

Thank you @aralas-week for organising this event, it was a blast!

[aralas-week]

Day 6!!

Fic: The Journey (6/7)

Title: The Journey Author: Michelle Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com Beta: WGR, thank you for your help! All remaining mistakes are my own. Summary: Legolas agrees to be part of the fellowship as a favour to the Evenstar. He gets more than he bargained for. Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas, background Aragorn/Arwen, past Legolas/Arwen Genre: Slash, (Movie)Gapfiller Rating: NC17 Disclaimer: Nothing in Middle Earth is mine, but the world is too tempting to be left alone. Author’s Note I: How Aragorn and Legolas met – the millionth reiteration of that trope. I alone have written at least three different versions so far. Since I was too lazy to research any of this (apart from checking the appendices for dates) and knowing full well that I’m contradicting the book in certain places (but not caring in the least), I call this movieverse (with my usual sprinkles of bookverse). Author’s Note II: This was written for @aralas-week, a week-long event for all sorts of fanworks providing seven prompts. I decided to use all seven prompts – meaning that this will be one continuous story in seven parts. The prompt words are: Before the fellowship, Between Anduin and Rohan, To Lothlórien, Siege of Gondor, Coronation, After Journey, The Final.

Read Chapter 6: The Family on AO3 || DW

[aralas-week]

Alas, I completely forgot about @aralas-week for the most part but I intend to do some drawings for it over the next few days since I am quite fond of them in movie canon

To start off, here's a drawing vaguely related to the day 4 prompt, "siege of Gondor". It's Legolas braiding Aragorn's hair before they set off to the Black Gate :D This is a longstanding headcanon of mine because we all know Aragorn didn't do those braids himself (the man has never met a comb in his life XD) and I don't think they look like Gimli's handiwork

[aralas-week]

like burning flame

[Aragorn/Legolas | T+ | 1.4k]

(Belatedly) written for @aralas-week Day 4, once again with fantastic art by @magicinavalon <3

Tags: Canon Divergence, Siege of Helm's Deep, Established Relationship Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst

Summary:

He thinks he had not quite understood his father’s scorn—the one that only buried grief—for the short, frail life of mortals. It makes little sense, of course; they all can be slain in battle any day, an opportunity that looks increasingly likely. And yet. He had never thought of Aragorn as frail. He had, he realises, never thought of Aragorn as mortal. --- Aragorn arrives at Helm's Deep despite everyone thinking him dead. Legolas deals with it as well as can be expected.

[aralas-week]

“Come on, meleth-nîn; I am here now, am I not?”

My third submission for @aralas-week!! Once again, a collaboration with the wonderful @queerofthedagger. You can find their incredible accompanying fic here as well as a little snippet below <33 The title of the drawing is also a line they wrote from the fic!!

“Come here,” Aragorn says, and his voice is stripped of concern now, of that careful distance he has been keeping up since he returned—as if he was scared that Legolas would crumble if Aragorn let him see properly.

[aralas-week]

Day 5!!

Fic: The Journey (5/7)

Title: The Journey Author: Michelle Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com Beta: WGR, thank you for your help! All remaining mistakes are my own. Summary: Legolas agrees to be part of the fellowship as a favour to the Evenstar. He gets more than he bargained for. Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas, background Aragorn/Arwen, past Legolas/Arwen Genre: Slash, (Movie)Gapfiller Rating: NC17 Disclaimer: Nothing in Middle Earth is mine, but the world is too tempting to be left alone. Author’s Note I: How Aragorn and Legolas met – the millionth reiteration of that trope. I alone have written at least three different versions so far. Since I was too lazy to research any of this (apart from checking the appendices for dates) and knowing full well that I’m contradicting the book in certain places (but not caring in the least), I call this movieverse (with my usual sprinkles of bookverse). Author’s Note II: This was written for @aralas-week, a week-long event for all sorts of fanworks providing seven prompts. I decided to use all seven prompts – meaning that this will be one continuous story in seven parts. The prompt words are: Before the fellowship, Between Anduin and Rohan, To Lothlórien, Siege of Gondor, Coronation, After Journey, The Final.

Read Chapter 5: The Kiss on AO3 || DW

[aralas-week]

Aralas Week Day 2 - Florist/Coffee Shop AU 🌿🌻

Legolas: How's the Matcha?

Aragorn: It tastes like grass.

Also Aragorn: *drinks the whole cup*

@aralas-week

[aralas-week]

Fic: The Journey (4/7)

Title: The Journey Author: Michelle Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com Beta: WGR, thank you for your help! All remaining mistakes are my own. Summary: Legolas agrees to be part of the fellowship as a favour to the Evenstar. He gets more than he bargained for. Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas, background Aragorn/Arwen, past Legolas/Arwen Genre: Slash, (Movie)Gapfiller Rating: NC17 Disclaimer: Nothing in Middle Earth is mine, but the world is too tempting to be left alone. Author’s Note I: How Aragorn and Legolas met – the millionth reiteration of that trope. I alone have written at least three different versions so far. Since I was too lazy to research any of this (apart from checking the appendices for dates) and knowing full well that I’m contradicting the book in certain places (but not caring in the least), I call this movieverse (with my usual sprinkles of bookverse). Author’s Note II: This was written for @aralas-week, a week-long event for all sorts of fanworks providing seven prompts. I decided to use all seven prompts – meaning that this will be one continuous story in seven parts. The prompt words are: Before the fellowship, Between Anduin and Rohan, To Lothlórien, Siege of Gondor, Coronation, After Journey, The Final.

Read Chapter 4: The Decision on AO3 || DW

[aralas-week]

Aralas Week Day 1: Before Fellowship

Finally! I had to finished this!✨

[aralas-week]

The weave of your hands (part 3/6)

Tags: Aragorn/Legolas, friends to lovers, canon era, braiding Words: 7.2K (so far)

Written for @aralas-week Day 3: Between Anduin and Rohan

“I see Hope, for he stands before me. And as long as he stands, there is no room in my heart for despair.” Aragorn had thought the time of words past, thought himself beyond the reach of them, but he was not beyond this. “Come, Estel. Come, Aragorn. Braided by your hand, I shall be with you until the end, whether it may come on this day or any day hence.” Or: 5 times aragorn does legolas’s braids + 1 time it’s the other way around

previous parts

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III. Rohan

There was no time.

In the beginning of their journey, it had seemed as though every day stretched for as long as an age, the slow trudge through the mountains, the endless darkness of Moria. Even their brief rest in Lórien had stretched long and languid in the ethereal aura of the forest. At each turn, there had been moments of quiet and rest, time allowed to camp and replenish reserves.

But every moment since leaving the forest seemed to pass like the hoofbeats of a galloping horse, relentless and steady and uncomfortably swift, no time to parse one apart from the other.

Boromir fell.

The hobbits, whose welfare they had been charged with protecting above all else, were lost.

They ran across the plains of Rohan, Legolas and himself and Gimli, on and on and on in pursuit of their friends, no thought of rest in their minds, stopping only when they were stopped by Éomer.

Even then—there was despair, then joy, then despair again, and then the most profound of joys deep in the heart of Fangorn at the return of Gandalf—but still no time, to pause or reflect or linger for longer than the space of a single breath in the embrace of any moment before they were urged once again onwards.

This time to Rohan, to set right an ailing King. And then, still before he truly had the chance to catch his breath, they rode toward Helm’s Deep and straight into a warg attack.

Aragorn might have collapsed at the first sight of the beasts if he had not been bolstered by his companions—Gimli, who he had come to understand and love simply by the resolve with which the Dwarf had run across the plains for Merry and Pippin, despite being entirely unsuited to the endeavor. Gandalf, who had disappeared with words of hope, and whose continued presence on Arda had itself bolstered his waning strength. And Legolas, always Legolas, the first to follow his pledge at the Council, the first to defer to his lead at the banks of the Anduin, the first to notice when he was flagging and offer an encouraging nod.

He watched Legolas perhaps as closely as Legolas appeared to watch him—it was easy enough to track that golden hair no matter how far in front of the group Legolas went to scout, Ranger’s eyes or no. As such, he did not miss when Legolas lingered on the approaching hillcrest, still and wary, just before the attack. If something was amiss, none would likely notice it before Legolas, sharp-eyed and elven-eared and intensely aware of the nature around them.

Once the attack began, it was the sight of Legolas up ahead, standing down the oncoming wargs as though he would fight them all on his own if need be, that spurred Aragorn onto his horse and lent him the energy to join the fray in earnest. There had been no time to rest thus far, but there was certainly no time for it now.

They were all separated in the battle, but his awareness never strayed far from his friends—the tracker in him was always attuned to where Legolas was, but he was newly aware of Gimli as well, having spent days running just a few paces in front of him. It felt good coming to Gimli’s aid in the skirmish, etching deeper the bond that had grown between them.

And then, all too soon, he was caught on a warg and falling.

Legolas will be the first to notice my absence, he thought wildly as the ground approached rapidly closer, and then he knew no more until his dear horse and even dearer sister conspired to breathe awareness back into his limbs.

Once atop his horse, he rode to Helm’s Deep like a man possessed, for still there was no time to take a breath—the Orcs were coming in numbers greater and more terrible than anything they had dared to imagine, and Théoden King had to be warned. The journey was hard on his aching limbs, but he did not let up until the stronghold soared into view. No time, no time.

When Gimli welcomed him back with a vigor that suggested he had truly thought Aragorn dead, he had only a moment to wonder—did Legolas—had Legolas thought—before he walked straight into the friend in question.

They had but fleeting minutes to reunite, though he saw the darkness in Legolas’s eyes that suggested he had, indeed, thought Aragorn dead. And if his fingers lingered over Legolas’s as they exchanged the Evenstar, if he basked in the feel of those archer’s callouses on his skin for every fraction of a second he was allowed, he was certain not even Éowyn’s watchful eyes had noticed. The rest of his fleeting seconds he would relinquish, and had; this one he kept for himself.

Then it was a blur of motion once again; there were defenses to prep, men to outfit, swords to be distributed, plans to be drawn, and above all else hope to be ignited—Legolas himself commented on how drained he seemed, and Legolas was right, of course he was, but if Aragorn admitted his exhaustion he thought he might keel over and simply collapse.

So he continued on. He fought with Legolas, who seemed already to court with despair, for the first time in years. He gave what words of inspiration he could to Haleth, son of Háma, though Aragorn could not say what hope he held himself—not for Haleth’s survival, nor for his own. In barely any time, tens of thousands of Orcs would be at their gates. No amount of preparation would be enough, but he did all he could.

Hours and hours after he’d been dragged from the clutches of certain death, he finally found himself in the relative privacy of the armory, knowing there was nothing left to be done but wait for the battle to begin. For what seemed to be the first time since the fellowship had set out from Lórien, there was time enough to take a breath.

He took several, lingering over the familiar steps of pulling on his mail, lacing his jerkin, tightening the straps of his vambraces—Boromir’s braces—until he reached for his sword, and a stirring in the air drew his attention. Only one person could come this close to him without drawing notice.

Aragorn turned, already expecting the fair face that greeted him.

Legolas’s apology was unnecessary, but appreciated all the same. They clasped shoulders, the oldest gesture of familiarity they shared, and it was then that Aragorn noticed only one of Legolas’s side braids was neatly in place. While Legolas did not speak the words, the very crook of his head to expose his unbraided temple was a clear offering.

He wanted to. That much should have been clear from how he had asked for this very favor in Lórien, not only asked but begged that Legolas teach him. Still, the air felt strange between them. They had not fought in years, and he regretted that they’d done so for the first time in Elvish—necessary, due to the audience they’d had, but it had always been a language of joy between them, not a tool to cause hurt. If it was pity or remorse behind Legolas’s offering—

“If this is because you feel a need to further apologize—”

“Aragorn.” Legolas was quiet, solemn.

They did not need to say the words for this either, to know it was more than likely neither of them would live to see the sun rise. That he might live, but lose Legolas to the Orcs, was a possibility he feared down to the marrow of his bones but refused to contemplate.

“Very well.”

Legolas did not move, merely watched him steadily with those piercing eyes, and Aragorn once again had the strange sensation of being laid bare.

“I am so tired, Lassë,” he confessed in Elvish, unable to keep back any longer the thought that had been his constant companion for days. And certainly not when faced with that expression. The weariness was in his very bones, an ache too deep to dig out, and while he would fight with every last ounce of strength he had to protect the people of Rohan, he was no longer sure how much strength truly remained. “So much loss already, and even more to come. I counsel hope, but I know not if I have any left.”

If Legolas thought it hypocritical for Aragorn to confess such a thing just hours after they had argued over the very issue of despairing, he said nothing of it. Indeed he said nothing at all.

Instead, Legolas sank in one fluid motion to his knees.

Time stopped.

Aragorn’s breath caught in his throat, spellbound. He didn’t—he wasn’t—what in the name of—

Legolas began to speak. “I see Hope, for he stands before me. And as long as he stands, there is no room in my heart for despair.” Aragorn had thought the time of words past, thought himself beyond the reach of them, but he was not beyond this. “Come, Estel. Come, Aragorn. Braided by your hand, I shall be with you until the end, whether it may come on this day or any day hence.”

Aragorn could not explain the feeling in his body. There was no word to describe it in any tongue he could speak. Joy was too simple, grief too heavy, supplication too divine to explain something that felt so very grounded, a vow bound up in the everlasting truth of dirt and root and tree. He was still so very tired, and hope seemed so far away, but he felt a profound sense of sureness, as though he had no greater purpose than to fight this night beside his friends. And stand with his dearest friend of all, who had known him by every name, who had seen unfailingly past each one to the core of him, who had pledged something so valuable as the immortal life of an Elf to service at his side.

Unable to speak, Aragorn could only act.

He walked as if in a trance to stand behind Legolas and brought his hands to the unbraided side of his head. With Legolas kneeling, the angle was surprisingly comfortable to fashion the thin braid Legolas himself had taught him in Lórien, one he had practiced so many times that night he could likely weave it in his sleep.

Indeed, it felt as though he was, for still his mind traced over the words—braided by your hand, I shall be with you until the end—unable to let them go, unable to accept the magnitude of them, unable to fully face their implications.

If they both survived—if, if—there was so much to be said between them, if that moment came.

In this moment, he simply braided. The repetitive motion calmed some of the maelstrom in his mind.

When he was nearly finished, Legolas suddenly tensed. He thought at first that he had forgotten himself and pulled too hard or otherwise ruined the braid, but a quick glance over his handiwork suggested otherwise.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Gimli approaches,” Legolas said, neutral. He did not make to rise from his knees, and Aragorn understood the decision to be in his own hands.

To continue, or to stop? This moment felt private in a way that even their previous ones had not, but the Dwarf had become a fierce friend and companion to them both. Besides, if even he did not fully understand the significance of what they were doing, only knew that it was significant in some way, more than likely Gimli would not either.

And he did not wish to hide, as though they were doing something wrong.

Aragorn continued braiding. Legolas did not move.

A few moments later, Gimli appeared in the entranceway, so comically drowning in his mail that Aragorn felt his spirits briefly lift and a genuine smile curl at his lips for the first time in far too long.

Gimli said nothing as Aragorn secured the braid the way Legolas had shown him and stepped back. Legolas rose to his feet. Still the Dwarf did not speak.

Aragorn glanced between them and realized he and Legolas appeared to be locked in a battle of wills, holding a conversation with their eyes alone that Aragorn could not parse. It seemed Legolas eventually won, for Gimli looked away first and lightened the mood with a quip about his ill-fitting mail.

That sureness settled ever firmer in Aragorn’s chest. Whatever occurred this night, he felt certain this was exactly where destiny had designed for him to be.

From nowhere, a horn blew in the distance. Legolas’s eyes met his, and understanding came to them both at the same time.

Hope kindled.

[aralas-week]

a promise like winter

[Aragorn/Legolas | Mature | 1,1k]

Written for @aralas-week Day 3: Between Anduin and Rohan, with more brilliant art by @magicinavalon ! <3

Tags: Established Relationship, Missing Scene/Stolen Moments, Fluff

Summary:

They have always lived more on stolen moments than in marital beds, but there is an urgency to this now, a fear of numbered days and looming futures. It makes them both hold on too tightly, makes teeth find exposed flesh, fingers burying into skin until they bruise. --- As the Fellowship travels down the Anduin, Legolas and Aragorn get a rare moment to themselves. Naturally, they make the most of it, as best they can.

[aralas-week]

A Winter Stroll

For @aralas-week in collaboration with the wonderful @queerofthedagger, who wrote this adorable fic which the art is based off of! Here's a little snippet of the scene, I just love it so much:

It is not that they are keeping their relationship a secret, so much as that it is a private thing. One neither of them wants many witnesses for, beyond a brief leaning into each other, a reassuring hand. Around them, all is quiet, only the distant rushing of the Anduin filtering through the trees. Legolas hums a little. “Well, we will just have to find a path past the currents, and then one into Mordor, and I am sure once the Enemy is defeated and the throne is yours, we will have all the time in the world.” Aragorn laughs, and if there is a hint of sadness burrowed beneath it, Legolas does not point it out.