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shirefantasies · 6 months ago

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LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

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edges-of-night · 1 month ago

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I’m so happy you’re back I adore your writing! I wanted to request one where the reader comforts the lotr characters after they have a nightmare💕

Thanks love

This is a sweet request, anon! It turned out a bit angsty, at least in parts... I hope you’ll enjoy the read ♡

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn frequently dreams of Narsil, Isildur, and the shadows of his ancestors. Those nightmares leave him distraught and at first even disoriented. It takes you a while to get through to him with soft Elven whispers and gentle hands to steady him. When you do, he does calm and holds onto your hand tight and keeps mumbling weakly, “Meleth nín…”

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Nightmares are worse for Elves than Men, due to their gift of foresight which amplifies the bad things they see in their dreams. The dark future Arwen sees at night haunts her during the daylight, too, but you are there to hold her hands and offer a shoulder to cry on. While she won’t lose hope easily, the shock in Arwen’s heart is deep every time.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir won’t tell you about his nightmares until he would start crying one morning, seemingly out of the blue. You are there to comfort him with a gentle hand on his back and all the silence he needs to collect himself, before finally opening up about his fears and the nightmares they conjured. “At least I have the certainty you would not think less of me, knowing what you know now…”

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

You wake by Elrond’s side when his nightmare punches him out of sleep. For long, terrible moments, he was back amidst the fires of Mount Doom, desperate lungs filled with poison smoke and disbelieving eyes on Isildur’s back. Now you can provide him with air and water to bring him back to the cool calm of Rivendell.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

It has taken you far too long to wake poor Éomer from his nightmare. His feverish, sweaty, desperate face would have broken your heart had it lasted any longer. But war leaves its invisible wounds, and Éomer wasn’t spared. He holds onto you for dear life as if he was only half-way back to reality, but you tell him everything would be all right.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Upon waking her from her nightmare, Éowyn draws her sword at you, staring you down with a fury you have never seen in her usually so kind eyes before. You back away slowly, speaking softly to bring her back to reality and away from whatever has been haunting her. When she recognises you, Éowyn bursts into tears, hiding her face. “Oh, forgive me! Forgive me, love…!”

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Childhood trauma has often kept Faramir awake, but creeping its way into his dreams was even worse. When he wakes, he needs only seconds to reorientate himself, but would then cover his mouth to not wake you with his sobs. You, of course, are not bothered but concerned by what you hear and offer Faramir to spend the night awake with him until he would fall asleep in your arms as you watch the sunrise.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo tosses and turns in his sleep with big sighs and sobs which eventually wake you up. You know that Frodo isn’t an easy sleeper, but his nightmare phases still shock you anew every time. You gently wake him up to tell him everything was fine, and at first Frodo genuinely seems relieved. However, you know that the following hours won’t be easy for him, so you keep supporting him with kind words and his favourite tea, taking it easy all day.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Nightmares are so rare for Galadriel that she has no way of dealing with them. They bring tempests not only to her heart but Lórien, too. You stay with her throughout and guide her back to the light in the days afterwards. She is weak but leans on you for incorrigible support. Thanks to your care, closeness, and words of affirmation, the Lady of Light can return to her normal life.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf’s nightmare has summoned thunder and lightning, keeping you from sleeping. When you try to deliver him from whatever evils keep chasing him, a magical fire flames up. When you try to touch Gandalf’s shoulder again, it diminishes, and you manage to wake him up. The storm is gone almost in an instant, and Gandalf’s face is as soft and friendly as ever. He won’t talk about his nightmare right away.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

One night, you would hear quiet sobs next to you and realise Gimli was crying in his sleep. He would not wake up easy when you pat his shoulder or caress his arm, but eventually his eyes would open and he’d meet yours with a sad and tired gaze. Perhaps he would like to talk to you about his nightmares of Moria’s fall at a later point, but for now, he is content with you letting him cry without judgement, stroking and kissing his hair gently.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Out of fear of giving others leverage against him, Haldir won’t tell anyone of his horrible nightmares. Since your sleep has always been light though, you notice very soon that something is wrong with dear Haldir. While he would deny your offers of comfort rather coldly at first, he eventually asks you to simply listen to his sorrows so that they no longer weigh down his heart. You know how bad the sentiment is for Elves, so you thank him genuinely for sharing it with you.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

As with all Elves, nightmares are poison to Legolas due to his Elven abilities. Darkness and terror spread in his heart, and it will take him weeks to recover. You are always there to hug and kiss him – physical touch is what comforts poor Legolas the most in these times. He is as restless as ever, but you remind him that he is safe with you. “Indeed, there no fortress in this world where I would be more secure than in your arms, my love.”

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry always tries rationalising his nightmares, to the point where he won’t allow himself to be vulnerable and let his fear sink in. That is where you can help your poor Hobbit the most: by reminding him that you will always be there for him, no matter if it’s the middle of the night and some random “nonsense darkening his mind”. You sit down with him by a fire and talk about it all.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

After nightmares, Pippin is often still scared for a longer time. After helping him calm down, you make sure to light as many candles and lamps as possible. Food is also a good comfort for Pippin, which has led you to make strawberry sandwiches at three in the morning twice already. To ground himself further, Pippin would also sometimes sing to you quietly.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam’s nightmares are intense but thankfully leave as quickly as they come. He usually sleeps well whenever he is with you, and you comforting him after a traumatic dream reminds him why: You take him seriously, sometimes more than he himself does, and don’t ridicule the encounters of his nightmares. Cuddles and a bit of talking usually do the trick, and the two of you fall asleep again soon ♡

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 3 months ago

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Y/N: “Look I’m not saying I wouldn’t date an elf, I’m just saying that you’re all so tall it would be difficult to kiss any of you conveniently.”

Lindir: “That feels like a weak excuse.”

Elladan: “What’s a weak excuse?”

Lindir: “ Y/N is saying they wouldn’t date an elf because we’re too tall to kiss.”

Elrohir: “And yet” *kisses forehead* “you’re perfect height.”

Elladan: *Kisses forehead* “huh? You’re right, they are.”

Glorfindel: “Why are we kissing y/n?”

Lindir: *kisses forehead* “because they’re perfect height for it.”

Glorfindel: “If ever there was a good reason.” *kisses forehead*

Y/N: “Are all you elves just gonna keep kissing my forehead now?!”

Legolas: “Well you don’t have to ask me twice” *kisses forehead*

Arwen: “Alright that’s enough.”

Y/N, almost dead from blushing: “Thank you!”

Arwen: *kisses forehead* “I was feeling left out.”

#lotr #lord of the rings #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #Lindir #Lindir imagine #Elladan #Elladan imagine #Elrohir #Elrohir imagine #Glorfindel #Glorfindel imagine #legolas #legolas imagine #Arwen #Arwen imagine

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cambion-companion · 2 years ago

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Hugging the Elves (blorbos)

Elrond ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Elrond is a healer, of both body and heart. His home of Rivendell is where those blessed enough to gain entry find refuge for their spirit. Elrond would hug like a father comforting his child, he would wrap you into a secure embrace. He smells like familiar spices and fresh warm cloth as you bury your head against his shoulder. The long sleeves of his robes wrap around your body and offer solace under their weight. He will smile down at you gently, a fond crinkling around his eyes full of wisdom and starlight.

Glorfindel

Sunshine incarnate, Glorfindel's hugs are enthusiastic and don't be surprised if he lifts you into his arms and twirls you around once or twice, especially if he has been on errantry and not seen you for a while. His long golden hair would get in both your faces and he would laugh, bell-like, as he gently brushes it away. He smells of a fresh summer breeze carrying the light scents of flowers and evergreen trees as you press your cheek to his chest. I also see him as being fond of taking your face in his hands, enjoying looking into your eyes and reading your emotions there. When you are in need of comfort be assured Glorfindel will always be ready to offer you a warm embrace as you bask in his glowing presence. His very touch is enough to chase away any creeping darkness from your mind. (yes I am madly in love with him can you not tell)

Arwen

Arwen doesn't hug very many people, so when she opens her arms to you it is a gift indeed. She smells of lilac and midsummer nights spent by the lake under the stars. Her hair is as soft as goose-down and the gossamer of her sleeves slips between your fingers. She holds the back of your head lightly as you lean against her, closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of her chin tucked against your head. Arwen will also peer into your eyes, as they are windows to your soul, and give you a soft understanding smile before engaging you in light conversation and laughter.

Thranduil

(as a brief aside, I do not at all like the characterization of Thranduil in the movies as they turned him into King Thingol of Doriath who is much different in temperament. thus, this will be based on his book self)

Thranduil is regal and guarded, yet he has a warmth about him you have grown accustomed to receiving from the Elves. Like Arwen he does not embrace others readily, but will receive your affection with a broad smile and happy chuckle. His hands placed securely on your upper back as you lean against him, breathing in his scent of juniper berries and pine. This hug will be brief but meaningful and leave you feeling elated and refreshed. He will then invite you to dine with them and perhaps accompany his folk into the forest to dance and frolic to the sound of harpists and singing.

Legolas

Legolas is full of laughter and wit and will accept your hug with joy, squeezing you tight against him as he ruffles your hair about in an affectionate manner. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale the smell of leather and woodsmoke. He will hold you against him for as long as you wish, even rocking you side to side if you remain in his arms for long. When you do pull away Legolas will grasp your forearms and beam at you, making a witty comment, his countenance brightening when you laugh.

Finrod

(Yes, I have to include this golden boy)

The first among Elves to befriend humans, even the first to see them, Finrod has a special place in his heart for his mortal friends. He loves giving and receiving hugs and will wrap you in his arms readily and with reverence. His golden hair tickles your face and he laughs, looking down at you as you scrunch your nose at the sensation. Finrod smells of the ocean winds that form the waves and the carpet of moss that covers forest floors. He is Valinor mixed with Middle Earth, belonging to both and yet neither. There is a sadness to his grip as he brushes a stray hair from your face after you pull away. But as ever with his kin the sadness in his eyes swiftly turns over to mirth and he takes your hand before pulling you along with him to your next adventure.

let me know who else I should write these for!

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roprot · 23 days ago

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Elrond when his daughter starts to fall in love with the Quick witted long haired Scruffy long lost heir to a human kingdom x

i'm WHEEZING

#imagine the moment #watching lotr after rop lmao #elrond #halbrand #arwen #aragorn #sauron #the rings of power #rings of power #from reddit

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darkst4lker · 24 days ago

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taste // thranduil.

thranduil oropherion x fem!reader

plot: two weeks and a half ago, thranduil and (y/n) had a messy break up. now, he appears at your friend arwen's birthday party with his ex girlfriend by his side and you decide that if he wants to play that game, you would play it too.

tw: (mdni) modern!au, it's mainly lovers to enemies to lovers but there will be mentions of smut, angst, thranduil behaves like an asshole, misogyny, use of drugs and and alcohol, good ending (?, i changed a lot of things from the lore!!, everyone is like 20-27 here but legolas wasn't even born yet here. YES there's a moment where starts playing lover you should've come over by jeff buckley!!. low caps on purpose.

notes: english is NOT my first language. i'm sorry if there's any mistake. also this is the first time i publish something i write here!!

“(y/n)” tauriel spoke. you and her were helping arwen to decorate her house for her birthday party that same night, yet you were visibly sad for your break up with thranduil. “(y/n), are you okay?”

you weren't okay.

it was the middle of winter. arwen's living room was one of the most comfortables and warm places on earth, in fact all of her house was like that. it was one of the places where you felt more safe than anywhere in the world but today her house felt deadly cold to you.

maybe the problem wasn't arwen's home itself but the fact that your soul was freezing since the day thranduil's deadly words stabbed your heart like a poisoned knife.

“i don't love you anymore, (y/n).”

fucker. you had spent two years together.

in fact, you and thranduil never fought, never argued, never insulted each other while you were together. yet, the day he left you like that, completely out of the blue, you insulted him so much he probably thought that all his family line would be cursed forever.

he said horrible things too, it wasn't just you. but you may had gone too far when you threw an antique vase that belonged to his family for years through the window of his apartment.

in your defense, he was the last person you thought that would leave you.

of course arwen's house felt cold, the whole world felt cold actually. how could anything feel good in this earth when you weren't in thranduil's arms?

you took a deep breath.

it took you a moment to answer to tauriel's question because the vestiges of the last discussion you had with thranduil were fresh in your mind like if it had happened a second ago. you tried to dismiss the storm of memories flooding your mind and you looked at tauriel.

“yeah, im sorry i went blank for a minute.” you answered while hanging up some balloons in the wall. you tried to fake a smile but your tired eyes revealed your sorrows.

“that's it. im tired of seeing her like this, im going to kill him” aragorn said, leaving his spot next to arwen in the kitchen where they were preparing all the food for the party to get his coat, but arwen stopped him right away.

“stop, you're not helping her. we need to stay here by her side.” arwen came out of the kitchen, after aragorn. her calm voice sent chills down your spine.

aragorn crossed his arms and left his coat alone while he sat in a chair facing you.

you sat on the sofa and arwen sat besides you. the decorations were ready and now you didn't had anything else to distract you from the heartbreak im your chest.

“everything is going to be okay, sweetie. i'm sorry you'll have to see him tonight, bard insisted a lot for me to invite him.” arwen words comforted you and then she hugged you softly. aragorn looked annoyed while he leant against the wall and tauriel stood beside him. “sooner or later he will realize what he's missing.”

“better be sooner because i can't believe he hurted (y/n) like this when a month ago he was talking about fucking marrying her.” aragorn said clearly angry. “i know he's my friend and all but... i can't believe that he really did that.”

“well love can be like that sometimes, i guess.” you answered, trying to keep yourself together. “it comes and it goes.”

“yeah right, but is never just like that (y/n).” tauriel voice was calm but she did seem irritated. “i don't understand why on earth he would do that. it doesn't even makes sense.”

“it doesn't matter if it makes sense or not, guys.” you were clearly about to cry but you held it. “what is done is done and we can't go back in time, and neither can thranduil. i will survive this shit.” everyone tried to smile at you while you spoke but you didn't sounded as convinced as you wanted.

yet, you were true. you couldn't go back in time and in fact, the hours passed swiftly and now the night welcomed the birthday party everyone was waiting for.

you got showered and prepared directly in arwen's home. you had brought your outfit and now your body was inside a stunning and tight scarlet dress.

the black heels that you were in made your outfit more mysterious and in your neck there was a lovely silver necklace with a ruby pendant that arwen had let you borrow for the night.

with a little bit of perfume and red lipstick on, you left arwen's room and joined tauriel's side on the party. there wasn't much people yet, a couple university friends from years ago, the boy tauriel always spoke about: kili and his brother fili, gimli, aragorn of course and like five more people.

it wasn't full yet but arwen's home was quite big so the amount of people wasn't going to be a problem.

thranduil by the other hand, he surely was going to be one.

tauriel and you talked for a while, spending time together before she went to dance with her almost-boyfriend, kili.

you really liked kili for your friend, he seemed like a sweet guy. you really hoped they would end up being together and you wished in the deepest places of your heart that he didn't ended up breaking your friend heart.

like certain person did to you.

you drank a little from the bottle of wine aragorn gave you before rushing to dance with arwen and more people started to appear.

the fear of seeing thranduil that night was disappearing by every sip you gave to the wine and soon you even thought that maybe he wasn't even going to come.

a couple hours later, the house was full of people everywhere, it was 11pm, the party had just started hours ago and when you thought you were free from certain blonde, you saw probably the worst thing you could see with alcohol in your system.

thranduil entered the party with a beautiful blonde girl by his side. they both had their hands enterwined and the girl was giggling while they talked. you instantly felt a rush of rage invade your whole body to the point you believed that your brain was on the verge of exploding.

thranduil had a formal black shirt, leaving two buttons unbottoned and revealing his neck, a little sigh escaped from your lips at the heavenlt sight.

and there it was her.

she looked like a goddes pulled out from a fairytale, making your insecurities corrode your guts like a sickness. the tears threatened to fall off your eyes as you watched their entrance from the another side of the room, and the worst was that you recognized her from old pictures thranduil had in his house. that was his ex girlfriend, now actual (you supposed).

when you thought the horror was over, thranduil looked at you from the distance like if he had some kind of radar attached to him that warned him about everytime you looked at his direction.

his ocean blue eyes met yours. it felt like a boat crashing in the middle of a sea infested with mermaids.

his stare was as intoxicating and addictive as always were. the feelings accumulated in your throat like stones and you got scared for a moment before breaking eye contact with him. it lasted just a second, but it felt like a lifetime passed while your eyes met his.

then you quickly took a sip of your bottle of wine, trying to not give him the pleasure of seeing you rush to the bathroom to cry. for what it felt like hours, you had to see him dance with his new girl and you imagined that you were the one dancing with him, kissing him, touching him.

it was unbelieveable. he literally had replaced you.

how could he? why would he?

those questions pierced your heart like swords, like his words did days ago.

“it was just a pause, a distraction. i needed someone to heal what my past relatonship had broken in me and i already did. you served me well and i will always be grateful.”

you 'served him well'? really? what the fuck does he thinks he is? a king?

his words had melted in your ears like a rotten peach. the sweetness of his low voice mixed with a hint of gall flooding every sentence he said.

you understood now what he meant when he said he healed.

by the other hand, thranduil was breathing heavily.

his hands were on his new girlfriend's waist and sometimes he planted soft kisses on her face. yet, he couldn't fully enjoy anything of it. thranduil regretted all his actions, and much more, how he couldn't save your relationship.

he felt like an idiot. all of his thoughts were on you, every kiss he gave her, every look, every loving gesture, he desired it all went to you instead.

thranduil was deeply conflicted, though. even if he knew how wrong he were when you two broke up, he also was quite offended with the things you said.

it felt like a torture, probably the most horrible one on earth and the weight of his actions were killing him more slowly that he would ever wanted to.

thranduil didn't told you his real motives for leaving you, he thought it would only make it worse for both of you. but after leaving, all of his actions felt meaningless now that he didn't had you.

he was proud, and stubborn though. and watching how you left your seat in wich you were obviously staring at him to sit next to bard made his heart ache terribly.

in your mind, bard seemed like an obvious solution: he was hot, he was your friend and long before you started going out with thranduil he and you had spent a couple of nights together. bard obviously recieved your presence with open arms.

"(y/n), sweetheart." bard calm voice welcomed you as you approached the couch where he was drinking a beer. you noticed he had a blunt on the other hand. "you look beautiful as always."

"hi, bard. long time no-see" you took the seat next to him, everyone were dancing and the fact that he was also a very close friend of thranduil made the whole idea of making out with him so much better.

there was a brief moment of silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. the music was peaceful now, tempting every couple to slow dance.

"do yo want some?" he offered you the pot, and you took it while nodding.

as you smoke, bard looks at you with his classic lovely and reassuring smile, only this time he seemed quite drunk and clearly high.

you were a little drunk yourself too.

"i think i needed that, thank you." you give him back the blunt, and he leaves it in the ashtray. after, he looks at you with curiousity.

"are you-" he started to say but you interrupt him.

"yes i am in fact okay, thank you for asking though." the question had you completely exhausted. you rolled your eyes and stared at him right at his, starting to feel the mix of pot and the alcohol making you a little dizzy. "i came to see if we could make out for a while, i don't care if it's your fault he is here, i don't care about him, i don't care about anything. please, help me forget everything for a second like in the old times. please." your voice sounded a little desperate but the truth it was that you were.

the pain in your heart was begging and pleading to be released, to be cured even if it was for a brief moment. it felt like a bomb ticking on your chest that could explode at any moment and bard seemed to notice it.

a soft smile appeared on his face as he spoke. "you do seem to care, sweetie." the nickname made your heart ache a little, all his nicknames did. thranduil used to call you loving names all the time but the last time you two spoke he called you plainly by your name.

you asked yourself if he also was calling her those sweet names too.

your mouth opened to answer bard but the words didn't came out as the heart ache was ripping apart your body from the insides. bard saw your change of expression, knowing you needed help to get the words out of your chest. you did care after all.

bard puffed, trying not to sound melancholic and grabbed your hand softly. “im sorry, love. i know why you're asking me this and you can be sure i understand it, but thranduil made me promise i wouldn't touch you and i don't want to be in the middle of this break up.” as always, he was a pacifist. bard put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. your sight started to get blurry from tears. “it will pass.”

his words echoed in your mind calming every part of you like a balm.

“it will pass.”

you spent what it felt like hours in bard's arms, cying silently. he held you, proving that even if he was thranduil's friend, he was still your friend also. it was a beautiful gesture, and made your soul heal for a while.

yet, an specific sentence of his words lingered in your mind leaving a poison trail on your thoughts: “thranduil made me promise i wouldn't touch you.” why on earth thranduil would care if you fucked bard? what was his problem?

after a moment, you broke the hug and faced bard a little bit ashamed by the way you tried to approach him at first and how you broke down instantly at him reading your feelings like a book. after wiping your tears, you looked at him. your face was swollen from crying but your expression tried to remain calm.

“im sorry i tried to-...” you started, but he cutted you off.

“it doesn't matter, love. it's okay.” bard said, giving you a reassuring stroke on your hand.

a sigh escaped from your lips and then you felt hungry, as you hadn't eat anything in the whole night.

“i will go to the kitchen to get something to eat, i'll be back in a sec.” your voice was trembling at every word but bard smiled at you and nodded, giving you a soft pat on the head before you stood up.

he surely knew how to treat a heartbroken person.

the way to the kitchen was silent, at least for you. the music was still loud but your head was even louder.

your hands placed themselves on the refrigerator door and the familiar soft cold wind welcomed you.

arwen never cared if you took food from her fridge, so you guessed that she probably wouldn't mind if you took an apple. then you closed it, not wanting to be tempted to eat something more and empty the whole refrigerator, leaving your friend having to buy more things tomorrow.

as you ate the apple you remembered how thranduil had cooked you an apple cake one time. it was probably one of the few times he ever baked anything sweet yet the cake resulted to be absolutely perfect.

then you cursed yourself, if you wanted to forget why did he keep coming back in every single little thing you did?

it was like every detail of him was craved deeply onto your heart with no intention of leaving you soon and it hurted more than you could stand.

“you must be (y/n)” a sweet voice called you from behind, and when you turned you saw her.

it was probably one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. blue eyes, blonde hair and soft lips.

you fully understood why thranduil would ever leave you for her. she was surely beautiful like if she were some kind of angel.

“yes, i am.” the words left your mouth with shyness. she had a smirk on her face, and looked at you while your teeth catched another bite from the apple.

“it's surely nice to meet you.” she answered, but her voice was almost cynical. there was a weird tone of passive aggressiveness behind it but you were probably too high to catch up.

then it became so obvious you couldn't avoid it.

“thran spoke a lot about you.” she continued, getting closer to you. “but i'm sure that he will soon stop.” then she walked some more steps to your direction and you placed the apple on the counter, swallowing hard.

you didn't realized that you probably had a sad look on your face until she spoke again.

“oh, don't put on that face.” she said, chuckling. there was a mocking subtone on her words. “thran will forget you quickly.” her words felt like a sting through your chest. “you surely don't seem as beautiful nor interesting as everyone said, and i will clearly erase you from his heart.”

you were about to answer, but then you saw thranduil appear behind her like if he were searching for her, and it was too much for you to handle. it was too humilliating to see him watching how his girlfriend completely destroyed you.

your steps were fast as you left the kitchen clearly at the verge of tears. the bathroom was the first door you saw as you almost ran out of the room.

the door felt heavy against your hands but it was nothing you couldn't handle. the first instinct you had was sit on the floor, knees against your chest and finally letting it all out.

you didn't cared if anyone heard you. the heartbreak was a weight in your chest that you needed to purge the fastest way possible, even if thranduil mocked you with his girlfriend outside, even of everyone only felt pity for you, even if the world ended tomorrow.

the pain needed to come out.

and as you finally gave yourself permission to cry, the bathroom door started to open.

you almost didn't noticed, as the sounds were minimum but what you did noticed was the cologne thranduil always wore.

your stare didn't raised to face him, and he closed the door.

“what on earth are you doing?” his voice sounded like a dagger through your heart, and then you looked at him from the ground.

“i didn't asked you to come here.” your answer was harsh. “you're clearly having a lot of fun with all of this.”

“i don't care about what you think, (y/n).” you felt like your name was cursed on his lips. thranduil's voice was serious. “i asked you a question.”

you got angry instantly. how dared he to even ask something like that?

as you stood up to face him properly, your face swollen from tears and by looking him in the eyes you noticed he was probably high too. yet the weed nor the alcohol were clouding his senses that much.

his eyes were like an ocean, and you were drowning in it. quickly and deeply.

“i don't know what on earth do you want me to answer. i literally don't know.” you said, clearly irritated with his attitude and your voice trembling with fury. “what the fuck do you want me to say?”

“don't talk to me like that” he answered harshly. memories of your last fight came to you like a storm. “i asked you why are you crying in the bathroom like a pathetic little girl” thranduil said. “you were clearly capable of defending yourself two weeks ago”

instantly, you understood he was talking about the fight.

“and you were the same imbecile you're being now.” the answered came from your lips almost drowning you in venom and thranduil's expression became more cold than before if that was even possible. “it didn't occur to you, that maybe and just maybe, i don't want to fight for a man like you in the middle of my friend birthday party?”

“a man like me?” he sounded almost offended, and took a step closer to you, his head over yours and his serious eyes looking down at you. “you were dying for a man like me not even a month ago”

and you were still dying for him.

as thranduil was much taller than you, after the break up you discovered that arguing with him was one of the most intimidating things you'd ever done.

yet you faced him with bravery, not letting him ruin the last pieces you had from your broken heart.

“well i don't want to anymore.” you said and he got more closer, his chest almost touching yours.

“and what kind of man do you want then? you want a man like bard?” thranduil asked and he sounded annoyed, his face was stoic but the subtone of his words betrayed his feelings.

he sounded jealous, and he clearly was.

“and what is your problem if i do?” you bited back, pushing his buttons. “maybe he'll treat me way much better than you, in fact, i'm pretty sure he wouldn't replace or use me « to heal » in the first place.” you avoided his eyes while you spoke, not wanting your look to give away the fact that you didn't wanted to be with anyone else than thranduil.

thranduil let out an irritated puff, then his hand went straight to your face, grabbing it tightly, forcing you to look at him.

“then go date him, (y/n).” he said, his voice becoming rough. “that's really what you want?” thranduil asked.

you didn't answered, as you became nervous. yet your hands went to his chest, trying to push him out but it was useless.

thranduil was visibly angry and an irritated chuckle left his lips.

“but i don't think you want that, do you love?” he said, not really expecting you to say anything, cause he already knew the answer. “actually, if i remember correctly, less than a month ago you were in my bed whimpering for me.”

thranduil calling you « love » again made your heart skip a beat as the rest of his words burned your skin like a wildfire.

“why are you throwing a tantrum, thranduil?” you asked, annoyed. he was completely delusional if he thought you wouldn't fire back. “isn't your new girlfriend enough for you that you have to come looking for me like a little puppy?” every word you said felt like if you were digging your own grave, but you didn't cared at all. thranduil's grip on your face became harder.

the next thing that happened was probably the last thing you expected.

thranduil kissed you fiercely, like a unleashed beast. it was agressive, but you played along.

it was like drinking from an oasis in the middle of the dessert, and you answered him with the same obsessive hunger. you broke the kiss briefly to push him almost violently against the bathroom door, and then you were the one to attack his mouth to shut him up before he could say anything.

a slow song started to sound loudly in the house, making the contact more passionate.

« maybe i'm too young, to keep good love from going wrong »

thranduil went from kissing you like an animal to kiss you tenderly, his hand releasing your face to caress your head. he subtely guided you to the floor, where he sat with his back against the door and you placed yourself in his lap, straddling him.

minutes passed, his lips tasted like if you were drinking napalm making your loins burn, and your blood rushed quickly to your cheeks. both of his hands placed themselves on your hips, pulling you closer as his tongue asked you permission to enter your mouth.

« so 'll wait for you, love, and I'll burn. will I ever see your sweet return? »

you open your mouth and let him do as he please, and thranduil takes the opportunity, introducing his tongue. then, the kiss abandoned its sweet nature to become an agressive fight between the both of you, again. your hands move to his hair, making it messy.

thranduil wastes no time and one of his hands moves to your neck, making a little bit of pressure, while kissing you.

the kiss is broken up by the need to take a little bit of air, and you both look at eachother in the eyes, his hand not leaving its place.

« it's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter »

“i hate you” you say agitated, your lips swollen from the past interaction.

he chuckled, breathing heavily. “i hate you too.”

« it's never over, she is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever »

and then he pulled you to kiss you again, roughly. his left hand went under your dress, caressing your thigh and the other made presure on your neck and made you sigh in between the kiss. thranduil smiled as you kept kissing eachother hungrily, now moving his hand closer to the sweet spot between your legs.

you made sure to kiss him hard, and bited his lip with delicacy as he moved your underwear to the side, thinking that if you were lucky, his girlfriend would taste you too when she kissed him.

thranduil touched you freely, like he still loved you. you whined against his mouth, and he broke the kiss.

“you still want to go out with bard?” he asked, releasing your neck to make you look at him by grabbing your chin. his other hand was between your legs, playing with you and making you sigh again.

« lover, you should've come over, 'cause it's not too late »

there was a brief silence as you tried to hold yourself together to give him an answer.

“n-no.” you said. “do you love her?” the sudden question came from your lips in an agitated whimper as you looked him in the eyes. for some reason you felt he almost rewarded you by moving his hand faster against you, making you gasp.

“no.” thranduil finally asnwered only for you to kiss him again. you grabbed both sides of his face, and his right hand caressed your hair softly.

and then your little make out session was terribly interrupted by loud and violent knocks on the door. you both stood up quickly, like children being caught doing a mischief.

he made you a sign to keep quiet and spoke.

“yes?” thranduil said, calmly.

“babe, is that you?” you rolled your eyes at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. thranduil noticed and a little mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

“yes, it's me. give me five minutes.” he answered, his voice was too calm for the events that unfolded just moments before.

thranduil then pressed you against the wall, next to the door so the door could cover your presence while he went out. you wondered if his new girlfriend was really that stupid to not notice her, but you quickly thought that if thranduil was doing this he probably believed too that she was indeed stupid.

you admired how he always knew how to manage all the situations, but something in your chest ached when he gave you another kiss before whispering a soft « i love you » and opening the door, leaving you shocked.

he loved you. thranduil really loved you.

“im here, love.” thranduil said to her, covering your presence with the door and showing his girlfriend that no one was in the bathroom with him. at least to her eyes.

“the party is ending, thran. we should go.” she said. oh you loathed her, and a part of you hated thranduil for leaving you for her. you wanted him to say no, to stay with you, but he didn't.

“okay. let's go.” he answered, and exited the bathroom, leaving you alone but forgetting to turn off the light.

you walked to the mirror, saw your messy make up, the frustrated look on your face after being interrupted and your lips subtly swollen from the kisses and you laughed.

you fucking laughed.

you laughed because, no matter what she could say or do to compete with you, you've already won. he didn't loved her, he was yours. and you hoped; no, you knew, that everytime she kissed him, she would have to taste you too.

and to think you didn't intended to fight over him on the first place, but now the game was on.

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKED THIS!! it was super hard for me to finish this, and i plan to do a part 2 so stay tuned <3

#thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil of mirkwood #lotr #thehobbit #the elvenking #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas imagine #bard the bowman #bard x reader #bard imagines #aragorn #arwen undomiel #tauriel #lord of the rings

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imagines--galore · 1 month ago

Text

||Love Happens||

Summary: As the youngest daughter of the House of Rivendell, Annúneth has lived a sheltered life. Though that does not stop her from meeting the Prince of Greenwood. And though they start off on the wrong foot, there is one thing that neither of them can deny.

And that is sometimes, Love simply Happens.

Pairing: Legeloas x AnnúnethOC (Hobbit, LOTR)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None

A/N: This is for @siriuslydestiny and @lovelyxkazuha Hope you enjoy your request! And this is for @entishramblings who hasn’t been feeling the best lately! Also this story takes place AGES before the events of the Hobbit. So Mirkwood is still called Greenwood! And Thranduil isn’t as uptight : P

It was not often that Lord Elrond lead a Hunting Party. But both his sons were away traveling, and he wanted to be sure that no lingering Orcs or Goblins would happen upon Rivendell by accident.

What he had not expected, on the journey home, was for his Hunting Party to instead become a Welcoming Party to the King of Greenwood himself.

“Thranduil, we did not expect you for another week.” Elrond called out as a way of greeting his old friend as he dismounted his horse. Thranduil offered a slight smile in return. “The weather was favorable, and the enemy few. I also wanted to put to rest the rumors of your hospitality as soon as possible. See for myself whether what I heard was truth or not.” The two Elven leaders gave a respectful tilt of the head before grasping each other’s forearms in a greeting one soldier gave another.

Elrond simply smiled in response. “You shall be the judge of that, melon nin. But for now, let us return to Rivendell together. I am sure both our arrivals are anticipated by our comrades.”

Quickly mounting their horses once more, the two Elven Leaders urged their mounts forward, their respective parties following after them.

“How fare your children Elrond? Is your youngest Arwen residing with you, or is she with her grand-sire in Lothlorien?”

Elrond gave a secret smile at the mention of Arwen being the youngest, but made no move to say anything. “She is indeed in Lothlorien, finishing the last of her studies with Galadriel. The twins are leading an expedition to the North. I have yet to hear from them, but last I received a letter, they were in high spirits.” Elrond turned his head towards Thranduil.

“And what of your son Legolas? I have not seen him yet. Did he not come with you?” A sigh fell from Thranduil’s lips, one that Elrond was all too familiar with. It was the sigh of a parent who was at their wit’s end with their child.

“He is here, but he insisted on taking the longer route. Some nonsense about seeing new sights and such.” Thranduil shook his head, not understanding the need his son had when it came to exploring. “He shall be joining us on a later day. Perhaps tomorrow.”

During their conversation, the Parties had reached Rivendell, blowing horns to announce their arrival as they did. It was truly a sight to behold, a marvel of elven architecture and design. Every aspect was flawless, the House built around nature, spacious windows and multiple rooms open to the elements.

As they crossed the bridge Thranduil could not help but comment. “Though I much prefer the Woods of my home, I must say Elrond, you have indeed taken care of your home all these years. It is just as when I first laid eyes upon it when I was an elfling.”

Elrond smiled in a polite manner. He knew Thranduil, knew that the King hardly gave compliments outright. This was to the best of his efforts. He did feel a sense of pride, as their horses cantered across the bridge and towards the main platform where several elves were already waiting to greet them. “I thank you for your kind words Thranduil.” He said as he dismounted. “But for now, let us change and reconvene for dinner. I am sure yo-”

“Ada!"

The cry rang loud and clear from the top of the stairs, cutting off whatever else Elrond had to say. The assembled Elves spun towards the source of the sound. A figure revealed itself. The skirt of their dress lifted to their knees, pale legs and feet bared to those standing below, bright golden hair flowing behind her, unbraided and free. And even from afar one could see a simple silver circlet resting on her forehead.

Lord Elrond's entire demeanor changed from a reserved elf and leader to that of an overjoyed parent, as he held his arms open in greeting, a smile on his lips.

"Annúneth!"

The elleth launched herself into her father's arms, holding him close, her face buried in his chest. Elrond returned the embrace just as lovingly as it was given. The Elves of Rivendell smiled fondly at the display of familial love. King Thranduil and the rest of his party looked on in slight surprise at the golden haired elleth who was now gazing up at her father, relief yet slight concern evident on her delicate features.

"You were not harmed, were you Ada?" She asked, her voice soft and light. The elves started to move, taking the horses to the stables while the guests stood where they were. Elrond shook his head, resting a hand atop the soft head of gold locks, so like her mother's.

"As you can see I am quite alright my dear Yelde. You need not worry about me." The elleth shook her head in response.

"I shall always worry when you leave Ada. As will Arwen, Elladen and Elrohir." Her gaze finally shifted from her father's familiar features to the newcomers. Elrond followed her line of sight. Keeping one arm around her shoulders he smiled at Thranduil.

“Thranduil, may I introduce you to my youngest, Annúneth.” He gently pushed his daughter towards the King. “Annúneth, this is Thranduil. He resides as King over Greenwood and is a dear friend.” The King towered over the elleth, but that did not deter her from meeting his graze briefly, before lowering into an elegant curtsy, her eyes dropping to the floor for a brief moment as she did.

“You honor us with your presence King Thranduil.” She said, her voice ever polite and ever gentle. The older elf tilted his head in return. “And you surprise us with yours, Lady Annúneth.” His gaze shifted towards his friend, who was trying his best to hide his mirth. “Considering we were not made aware of it.”

Annúneth glanced at her father. “I shall leave Ada to explain his reasoning for I am sure he has an extensive list.” She cleverly stated, stepping away from her father’s embrace. Her grey eyes shifted to the rest of the assembled elves of Greenwood Annúneth lifted her head, her shoulders back as she addressed them.

In the blink of an eye she had morphed from a loving daughter, to the Lady of the House. And with her Mother having sailed to Valinor, and sister presently absent, the task did fall to her.

“Brothers and Sisters.” A look of surprise passed each elven face when she spoke in the tongue of their forest, Silvan. “On behalf of my father, Lord Elrond, Protector of Rivendell, I, his daughter Annúneth, welcome you to our home. Please follow me so that I may guide you to your rooms where you can freshen up before we all sit down for dinner. Your horses will be taken care of.”

With that the golden haired elven maid turned. When before she had been racing down the stairs, this time she seemed to glide along, leading the eager elves to where they would be residing during their stay at Rivendell.

Leaving a proud father, and an elven King who was seldom surprised and impressed.

And for once, Thranduil wasn’t loathe to admit that he was both.

————————–

“Will you now reveal to me the secrecy behind your youngest daughter’s existence Elrond?”

The wine hadn’t even been poured, the doors barely shut when Thrandul had demanded answers. Despite years on Middle-Earth, it would seem patience was one virtue his friend had no desire to perfect.

Thank the Valar he had enough for the both of them.

Pouring the wine, Elrond held the delicately wrought cup towards his friend. “It is a rather long tale my friend.” He stated, gesturing towards a pair of high backed chairs where he would usually conduct lessons with Annúneth. Thranduil, having taken a sip, sat down, watching as Elrond sat next to him. There was a brief moment of silence, as Elrond drank his wine.

Then he spoke.

“Celebrían and I were blessed and content with our three children. We had thought surely Valar did not seek to bless us again. But then we were wrong.” Elrond smiled as thoughts of his youngest daughter filled his head and made his heart swell with fatherly affection and love. “We were blessed with Annúneth in late Autumn in the year 1805.”

Thranduil raised a brow. “That is quite a long time to conceal the birth of an elven child Elrond.” He said, to which his friend nodded. “I agree, but it was her grandmother who insisted that we keep knowledge of her existence a secret, and tell as few others as possible.”

A frown creased his forehead as he pursed his lips, hands clasped around the stem of his wine glass. “We were not aware of the reasoning behind Galadriel‘s decision, but we did not question it. The only people to know of her existence were our family, a few other elves and, of course, Gandalf. No one outside of Rivendell, save her grandparents and Gandalf even knew of her.”

Bringing the glass to his lips he took a sip, gathering strength for what was to come next. “Then Celebrían was captured by Orcs and held captive for days.” His heart hurt even after all these years. The horror his beloved had to endure, the torture those monsters and inflicted upon her. “It was Annúneth who found where she was. She too possesses the gift of Sight. Yet hers only works when she is asleep, and is more concerned with present events and what outcome they might have. Through her intervention, the twins were able to save their Mother from a truly gruesome death and return with her.”

Thranduil frowned. “But then why hide her away? Why not use her gift to change the future as we see fit?” He asked, leaning forward as he awaited Elrond’s answer. The Elf Lord raised his eyes to meet Thranduil’s and the latter was surprised to see the utter sorrow and despair that was clear within his grey eyes. “The dreams she sees, my friend, they cause her unbearable pain. The night she had the dream about her mother dying, Annúneth was near inconsolable. She could feel her mother’s pain. And not just the physical strain.”

His eyes widening in realization, Thranduil felt a strange feeling akin to protection rise within him as he thought of the young elleth experiencing something truly grotesque and unmentionable. “You hid her away.” He said, his voice low. “So she would not meet people, so that she wouldn’t dream about them.”

Elrond nodded. “That was my intention when she was younger. But now, under her grandmother’s guidance, Annúneth has truly gained control over her abilities and has come further then I could ever have hoped.” The pride was evident in his tone as he finished his wine and stood. He paused at the window, having spied a familiar golden head, so like her mother’s, drifting by. Sometimes, when he looked outside his window and saw her, he mistook her for her mother.

Out of all his children, Annúneth had inherited her mother’s beautiful golden hair. Perhaps the reason her grandparents doted upon her so was because she reminded them of their own daughter.

“And are you willing to share your daughter with the world?” Thranduil asked, as he came to stand beside his friend, looking down at the elleth as well. Elrond laughed softly. “If I had my way, I would keep her hidden away from the horrors of the world.” He said truthfully but then he shook his head.

“And yet, I cannot keep something beautiful from the rest of the world. That would be truly selfish of me.”

————————–

Perhaps preparing a basket for a picnic that would happen in the morning wasn’t the best of ideas. She could always do that tomorrow, yet Annúneth found herself too excited to sleep. Instead, she had made her way towards the kitchen and lined up several baskets along the shelf, to be filled with all manners of eatables to take for the picnic tomorrow.

Her father had permitted she show their guests the beauty of their home, and she had suggested the meadows nearby. It was Spring, and the flowers would be in bloom. And since she had never had the chance to share her home with anyone else, Annúneth was eager to show their guests everything. Already she knew them all by name and was on her way to making friends with most of them.

Humming a long forgotten lullaby under her breath, Annúneth sifted through the jars of honey, trying to get the biggest ones from the back, where she kept them hidden away from her brothers. They had a tendency to go through honey as if it would run out and they would be left barren. Shaking her head at her brother’s obvious gluttonous nature when it came to any sweet concoction, Annúneth continued her task.

However, a sudden noise had her stilling in her movements.

She had been rummaging through a shelf that was partially hidden from the rest of the kitchen, yet gave her a full view of the room. And since she did not light a candle, choosing to work under the light of the moon, Annúneth was completely hidden in the shadows.

The sight of a hooded figure moving about the kitchen had her drawing a silent gasp.

Not a guest, for why would they sneak about wearing a hood?

A thief perhaps?

The figure moved about, inspecting the basket before taking out one of the loaves of bread Annúneth had placed within a few moments ago. From a young age, her brothers had taught her to be wary, and though it did not deter her from being the open and friendly elleth that she was, it did help her in drawing on suspicion when the situation called for it.

And presently, it did.

Her eyes darted around, to see if she could use something as a weapon. Silver grey eyes landed on a heavy pan. As quietly as she was able to Annúneth took one off, gripping the heavy handle between delicate hands. She would’ve preferred her sword, but since she didn’t have it on her, using the pan as a weapon to defend herself, if need be, would have to do.

The figure’s back was turned to her, and she could make out the soft sound of chewing as they ate the bread.

Providing Annúneth with the perfect opportunity to step out of her hiding spot, the frying pan swinging through the air.

————————–

He had not expected to return early.

Or rather so late.

It would seem everyone had retired for the night, and since Legolas and his few companions had not entered from the main entrance, their arrival went unannounced. Something that he preferred really, since he had no desire to make pleasantries.

At least not until he had eaten something.

While his companions took care of the horses and moved off to search for the rest of their party, Legolas made his way towards the kitchen. He knew Rivendell well enough to navigate his way through the dark and towards the empty kitchen. He kept his hood up, not wanting to be recognized by his hair. A rather unusual color even amongst elves.

Catching sight of the several baskets that were lined up neatly on the counter, the young Prince paused, a little curious at the arrangement. His growling stomach, however, didn’t give him much time to contemplate on it. Moving forward, he peered into one of the baskets, and seeing a loaf of bread within, pulled it out. Tearing off a piece he began to chew, enjoying the milky taste that was infused within the bread. Strange, yet not at all bad. Or perhaps he was simply too hungry to complain.

The unsuspecting elf was simply enjoying his meager, yet delicious, meal when the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. His eyes widened, he dropped the half eaten bread he held. Pivoting on his feet, and seeing the descending pan aimed towards his head, the Prince threw his hand out, catching the hand that held the handle and stopping it midair.

And not a moment too soon, since the pan stopped just a few inches shy of his temple.

————————–

The two figures stood motionless, their gazes locked.

The sudden pivot of his head had the hood of Legolas’s cloak slipping from his head, allowing his assailant to meet his eyes without the shadow of it obscuring their vision.

Annúneth had to tilt her head back to meet the stranger’s gaze. She could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest as she allowed her eyes to take in the rest of the stranger’s features. Then again, she was not the only one occupied in such a manner. Perhaps it would not have been wise to think of the stranger as handsome, despite the dirt that marred his face, and yet, she found herself thinking along the words regardless. Though that did not mean her resolve to hit him, should he be a threat, lessened.

To say he was surprised at the ferocity his assailant seemed to exude would be an understatement. Legolas was taken aback by the strength he had to use, just to keep the elleth’s choice of weapon knocking him unconscious. She was strong, of that he had no doubt. And yet, the fierceness did not take away from the beauty that was her face. Not to mention her hair. A halo of pure light that seemed to cascade down her back in rivers of gold.

A twitch of her arm had him returning to this current predicament.

“Why do you attack me?” The stranger asked in her mother tongue, his grip on her wrist not loosening. A good thing, Annúneth supposed, since she would’ve hit him. A scowl creased her forehead as she responded. “Do I not have the right to defend my own home from a vagrant vagabond such as yourself?”

Blue eyes blinked. “Vagabond?” He repeated, and Annúneth could see that despite the wariness in his expression there was amusement there at her choice of word.

The both of them were still locked in position, with Annúneth’s arms raised above her head, fingers grasping the handle of the pan. However, both of her wrists were being kept in a firm grip by Legolas. Remembering what her brothers had taught her, Annúneth pivoted on her feet, throwing her shoulder out to try and knock the elf off his feet, or at least surprise him to let go of her wrists.

Which he did, allowing Annúneth to raise the pan in front of her as a makeshift weapon. “Make yourself known, lest you wish to be thrown out.” She stated, her voice firm and sure. Even as her grey eyes flickered to his hair. A color that looked vaguely familiar, yet somehow, she could not seem to place where she had seen it before.

Despite the weariness that wore down on him, and the fact that he should end the confrontation by simply telling her who he was, Legolas paused. Her referral to him as a Vagrant Vagabond had been amusing, and he wanted to hear what else she would say about him. “And if I wish to keep my identity a secret?” He asked, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he picked up the bread he had dropped and placed it behind him on the counter. “Will you truly throw me out in the cold? Come now, I had heard tales of the hospitality of the elves of Rivendell, was it all simply a myth?”

As he spoke, Legolas began to walk, prompting Annúneth to take a step as well, and without the either of them realizing, they began to trace a circle with each step they took. “We offer hospitality to those who use the front door like civilized beings, not steal in, in the dead of the night.” She responded, her words sharp and clear, grey eyes never wavering from the figure. It disconcerted her, how ill at ease he appeared to be. Perhaps he had been here before? But then she would’ve met him.

Legolas paused briefly to pick up a bushel of grapes from a fruit platter and began to eat it. “I am not civilized, is that what you mean?” He asked, speaking around a mouthful of grapes, and not bothering to wipe some of the juice that traced from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. A happy accident that only seemed to strengthen Annúneth’s opinion of him. “You look as if you took a tumble down a hill, straight into a river of mud, before purposefully step into every piece of dirt you could find.” She responded, prompting the stranger to glance down at himself.

“I do not look that bad.” He responded, looking a little put off, to which Annúneth smirked. “You have leaves in your hair.” She deadpanned.

Legolas ran a hand through his hair, and sure enough, a few wayward leaves fluttered to the floor. He grimaced. Perhaps her wording of him had been correct. “Since that is the case,” He muttered to himself, before pausing in his steps. Turning so he could look at the elleth, the young Prince tilted his head in a slight bow, a hand over his heart, his gaze trained to the ground. “Pray will you not show this Vagabond the kindness he does not deserve My Lady, and allow him a place to clean and rest.” His posture stayed the same, but his gaze lifted to meet her own from across the room.

She may be a wary young elf maiden, but she was not without compassion. His words, nay the honesty in his eyes, had her lowering her arms, the pan now hanging at her side. “And how can I be sure, that you are not here to hurt my family or my home?” She asked, unsure how he would reassure her of that.

Legolas straightened, hand hand still over his heart, and something deep within him compelled him to say the next few words. “You have my word, My Lady. While I walk these halls, no harm shall come to your home, your loved ones.”

His gaze held hers.

“Or you.”

————————–

Call her a naive fool, but she took his word to heart.

And had found herself leading him towards one of the empty rooms where the rest of the guests were staying. She was acutely aware of his presence beside her, as she navigated through the darkened hallway with ease. While Legolas had to force his eyes to stay straight ahead, since they seemed to have developed a habit of straying in Annúneth‘s direction every now and then.

Sooner then he would’ve liked, they came to a stop in front of a door, which she gestured for him to enter, with a delicate sweep of her hand. Legolas, stepped forward, his resting hand on the handle. But then he paused.

Annúneth, who had turned around without a word, intent on walking back to her own room, had paused as well.

Even now, as she walked to the private dining hall where breakfast was being served, Annúneth felt a strange tremble run through her body, as the memory of last night played in her mind.

They had both looked over their shoulders at one another, their gazes meeting and despite the late hour, Annúneth had never felt more awake then she did in that moment, standing there in the presence of the stranger. While Legolas found himself wanting to stay in her presence, despite the fact he did not even know her name.

And before he could even ask, she had walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I see you have seen to grace us with your presence Sister.” Elladan called as Annúneth entered the room, closing the door behind her as she did. She smiled as she approached the table and took a seat beside her father. “Not all of us have the luxury to come straight down to breakfast as soon as they are awake Brother.” The younger elleth responded, quickly leaning forward and kissing her father in greeting.

Tilting her head in greeting in Thranduil’s direction, Annúneth turned to break her fast. As the siblings squabbled, teased and argued throughout the meal, Elrond barely batted an eye as he ate, his plate being filled at least twice by his daughter without his knowing, since he was busy speaking with Thranduil. The elf-king, however, noticed everything, his sharp eye and keen ears picking up on everything.

Noticing, in particular, the extra seat that had been placed beside him, that remained empty.

Clearly Legolas had slept in, tired from his late arrival.

Shame, he had wanted his son to make himself known to their hosts during his presence.

————————–

The picnic Annúneth had planned, set out once breakfast was over. It was only an hour’s ride to the flower meadows that was teeming with woodland creatures of all manner. The grass was tall, as were the flowers, the animals quite tame, used to the elves who would come to visit from time to time.

The place was something of a sanctuary for Annúneth, and she was more then happy to share it with her guests. They dismounted from their horses, set them loose to wander about and soon everyone began to do the same.

Fingers skimmed over flowers. Trees were climbed and branches used as perches. Deer were petted and stroked. Butterflies were chased and admired. Flutes were played, and harps were strung. Food was shared and eaten. A few voices rose in song, gentle and soothing.

And in the middle of it all, Annúneth sat alone amongst the tall stalks, with only the top of her golden head visible, with a pretty flower crown adorning her forehead, her hair unbound, her face aglow.

Her delicate fingers worked on making another flower crown. While her own was made using flowers of varying shades of yellow, the one she made presently comprised of flowers that nature had shaded with a certain blue hue.

A blue that reminded her of a certain stranger.

As was the norm, she was humming under her breath, sometimes singing along with the rest of her companions, content in her task.

That is until someone decided to join her.

“We meet again.” His voice came, familiar and yet unknown at the same time. Without looking up from her fingers as she twined the flower stalks, Annúneth responded. “You are within the vicinity of my home. It would’ve been strange if we did not meet again.”

He laughed. The sound strangely melodic, or at least to her ears. An odd comparison, yet it made sense. She still did not look at him. “Are you still going to treat me as the vagabond you believe I am?” He asked, to which she responded with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “If the shoe fits.” Humming in thought, as if contemplating on how to make her see that she was wrong, Legolas reached out to pick one of the blue flowers she would be using for her crown and twirled it between his fingers.

“I have done my best to appear presentable. Will you not look to see if it is so?” There was simply something about her, that prompted him to get a rise out of her somehow. Be it in a positive or negative light. It was rather unlike him, to be vying for the attention of an elleth in such a way. And yet, he found he could not help himself.

Setting the finished crown in her lap, Annúneth pursed her lips. Valar, he was being more persistent then her brothers. And that was saying something.

Still, she turned her head, a few wisps of her hair waving gently in the breeze, partially covering her lips and nose, though she made no attempt to push them back.

The previous night, when she had seen him, Annúneth had seen past the dirt and grime, and had seen the handsome face beneath. Somehow, his face appeared different then it was. The night before, he had appeared mysterious and alluring. Perhaps an effect of the moon? That must be it, for in the sunlight, he appeared calm, at ease and............free.

And just as handsome as he had the night before.

Perhaps he should have braced himself before he had asked her to look at him. Because while she was taken aback by him, he certainly felt his very heart stutter in his chest as those piercing grey eyes lifted to meet his gaze. While the moon had made her hair appear almost silvery last night, the morning sun showed its true golden beauty.

As the breeze blew, gentle and slow, the two elves found themselves simply sitting there, looking at one another. Caught in some spell that neither of them had cast. Or at least not consciously.

“Have I....passed your judgement?” He asked, his voice low, to which she responded with a slight tilt of her head, the action just barely noticeable. “It will take more then your charming attributes to earn my trust.”

Slowly, as if afraid that she were a dream that would fade should he startle either himself or her, his hand lifted, fingers curling along the soft strands of her hair. The tips of his fingers skimmed along the warm skin of her cheek, slowly tracing a path towards her ear, where he tucked the wayward wisps of hair.

All so he could see her face fully.

“Then perhaps I should strive harder to win it.” He said, and if anyone were to hear the conviction in his tone, they would have no doubt of his intention to do just that.

Annúneth felt her very breath stall, and had to force herself to keep her eyes from fluttering shut, just to savor the sensation of his touch against her skin. This was so strange. How could a complete stranger, one she deemed rude and a vagabond, have such an intense effect on her?

His blue eyes seemed to be speaking to the very depth of her being, and it did not make her feel vulnerable. On the contrary, she had never felt more.........safe. Which was a rather rare occurrence given her gifts.

Her lips set in a gentle smile that was just barely there. “I look forward to seeing you put in the effort Vagabond.” The elleth lifted the flower crown she had finished, and carefully set it around his head, admiring how the blue petals matched his eyes perfectly.

Her fingers accidentally grazed his temple as she pulled back. Legolas stilled, his eyes widening a fraction as a warmth raced through his body. One that engulfed his entire heart and simmered just there under his skin, a pleasant sensation that he would be reliving for the rest of the day.

Annúneth felt the shift in the air between them, prompting her to return her hands to her lap, lest she find herself unconsciously tracing his features, an urge she felt rise within her the more they sat there, looking at one another. Truly whatever spell had been cast was quite a powerful one, for the only way it was broken, was a voice calling out to Annúneth.

Breaking away from his gaze, Annúneth called back to whoever had said her name.

“Annúneth.” She heard him say, startling her into realizing that it was the first time her name was uttered in his presence. “Is that your name?” He asked, to which she raised an eyebrow. “Considering I responded to it, it would not take a particularly sharp mind to realize that it was.”

Unlike before, there was no sharpness behind her words. Just a simple, playful teasing lilt of her voice that had him smiling at her. “And now that you know my name.” She continued, oblivious to the way he was smiling at her. “It is only right that I should know yours.”

She glanced over her shoulder, waving at whoever had called her, informing them that she would be with them momentarily. “Legolas.” He said, once she had returned her gaze to his.

Unbidden, his name rose to her lips. “Legolas.” Rising to her feet, Annúneth tilted her head at him playfully, the flower crown still adorning her head. “I hope your stay at Rivendell will be a pleasant one.”

With that she turned and walked away, leaving him, and missing the words he whispered. Words that were lost to the wind. “I believe it already is.”

————————–

“Elrond, I have been patient enough and I believe it is time I tell you my true reason for coming here.”

Having been expecting such a conversation to come up soon, Elrond responded with a nod and a gesture for Thranduil to take a seat beside him. He was in his study, going over a manuscript Gandalf had brought him while passing through Rivendell. “I believe I am aware of what you speak of.” He said, shutting the leather bound book and setting it aside. Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

“So you have seen it I presume.”

It was more of a statement then an inquiry, but Elrond still nodded.

Since he possessed the gift of foresight, it was not surprising one of his children should inherit a semblance of it in some way. Though while Annúneth shared all that she would see in her dreams with her father, Elrond did not share much. At least not when his visions pertained to his children.

And he had had one such vision. Of Annúneth. His beloved sunshine.

“As a father I have been dreading this day.” He spoke, looking towards the wall where several portraits hung. One of each of his children. His gaze was focused on the elleth with golden hair and expressive grey eyes. “But I know as well as anyone, that no matter what, we cannot change what is predestined.”

Thranduil too followed Elrond’s line of sight. For a moment a stab of pain echoed through his very soul, as he was reminded of the Queen he had lost so long ago. His beloved.

“No, we cannot.” He muttered, thinking of all the ways he had tried to save her from her gruesome fate but had failed. “But I give you my word Elrond.” The two elven patriarchs turned their heads, knowing a solemn vow was to take place.

“I shall take care of her, as if she were my own.” Thranduil vowed.

If Elrond was willing to agree to it, then surely his own son would have no qualms about the arrangement. After all, Elrond would not send his beloved daughter to a place where she would not be loved.

“It would seem the joining of our two houses has been inevitable.” Elrond said with a sad smile. “I wish I could say that I was happy about it, but in truth, my heart is torn, for one day Annúneth will leave Rivendell. Leave me.”

The Elven King shook his head. “I have no desire to take her away from you anytime soon Elrond. What the both of us have spoken of, I have no intention of speaking to my son about it for a while.” Though he had a reputation of being cold and heartless, Thranduil did have a soft spot for his only child.

And now, it would seem, Annúneth was beginning to make room in his heart as well.

“I was gifted the chance to find love, as were you.” Glancing in the direction of Annúneth‘s portrait, Thranduil continued. “I want to give our children that same gift.”

Smiling, Elrond nodded sagely. “I will have to write Galadriel and Celeborn of your intention, but I agree. Let us see what fate has in store for our children. I believe there was a rather interesting interaction between them only a few nights ago.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow, curious to know what had occurred. Elrond smiled.

“They are not aware of who the other is, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I am able.”

It was rare for the Elven King to laugh out of amusement, for he rarely found reasons to be happy. And yet in that moment, the sheer absurdity of what had occurred as Elrond recounted it, had him throwing his head back and laughing.

————————–

Annúneth had never been one to shy away from people.

Even when she was younger, and barely had any grasp on her abilities, she would still wish to sit amongst others and converse, or sometimes just sit and listen.

The occasions where she wished to be by herself were rare.

But then sometimes, there were nights of dreams and nightmares that would weigh heavy on her mind. So many fates of so many people morphing together and overwhelming her, body and soul.

And this was one of those nights.

She sat awake on her bed, arms resting atop her knees where she had pulled her legs to her chest, her gaze listless as she stared at the open windows in front of her, the soft gossamer curtains fluttering gently. No matter how hard she tried, the visions would not leave her alone. For years she had trained with her grandmother as well as her father, to try and contain her abilities.

Not suppress them. They could never be suppressed. The visions she had of all those she met was just as involuntary to her as breathing. Sometimes, she would get visions that would show her the joy that particular being was feeling in that moment. But then there were times when all she experienced was heartache, pain and fear.

And this was one of those nights.

It would seem a few elves she had met a decade or so ago were to be slaughtered by a band of Orcs. Yes, she could send out a raven to warn them, but what if it was already happening. What if she were too late?

Hence the reason for her being awake so late at night, with her heart heavy and her mind made up to avoid company for a day or so.

For reasons unknown to her, her mind conjured the image of a certain vagabond. And that image only solidified in her mind’s eye, chasing away the remaining clouds of despair of the visions she had just seen. She frowned, biting her lower lip as she slid out of bed. Quickly changing into a simple dress and, as was the norm for her, choosing to be barefoot, the elf-maiden stepped out of her room, into the empty hallway, and made her way towards her sanctuary.

The thought of Legolas keeping her company.

————————–

He could not find her anywhere.

Legolas had walked the entirety of Rivendell and had been unable to locate Annúneth. Worry was beginning to gnaw at his chest. He knew she was not out riding for her beloved horse was in the stables. And there was no hunting party or picnic planned that she could have gone to.

It was rather the norm, for him to run into her at some point during the day. Most of the time they only nodded at one another in passing, though he always turned to look at her as she would continue on her way. Since their shared time together in the meadow, fate had not given them the chance to be in one another’s presence for longer then a few minutes.

And Legolas quickly found that despite knowing nearly nothing of the elleth, he missed her company. And he wanted to remedy the fact that he barely knew anything about her by, well, getting to know her more.

Hence his current mission: to locate Annúneth.

Opening the door to the armory, he was surprised to see his father and Elrond standing together and having a rather animated discussion with a swordsmith. Normally he would’ve joined them, but right then he was starting to get a little anxious since he couldn’t find Annúneth.

He had hoped to turn away unnoticed, but his father always had a habit of knowing when he was near. “Legolas, what brings you here?” The Elven King asked as the swordsmith walked away to whatever task he had been appointed. “I am looking for someone.” He responded, to which both Lords glanced at one another, a look passing between them that had the Prince raising his brows in silent question. Elrond smiled as he turned his attention back to Legolas. “And who is it that you are looking for?” He asked. As Lord of Rivendell, he would know where Annúneth was, wouldn’t he?

Stepping forward eagerly he voiced. “I am looking for an elleth by the name of Annúneth. Perhaps you know her?” Mirth shone in the elder elf’s eyes. Even his father looked amused, and that hardly ever happened, which only served to confuse him even more.

“I do know her. And if you cannot find her anywhere, she has probably retreated to her garden. There is a tapestry, in the Western Wing, that depicts the first meeting of Beren and Lúthien. You will find a door behind it.” He had barely finished speaking before Legolas had quickly bowed and made his retreat.

“Beren and Lúthien?” Thranduil asked, appearing just as amused as before.

Elrond smiled. “Annúneth’s favorite tale.” He said as a way of explanation before they both turned their attention to the daggers that had been in the works.

————————–

Just as Elrond had told him, the door was behind the tapestry. And beyond it was a garden unlike any he had seen before.

It was by no means a large garden, but was comfortably sized and circular in shape, with a tree in the center, its branches laden with white flowers. Beds of flowers dotted the landscape, and a small fountain fixed into one of the walls trickled merrily into a white marble basin.

And while the garden demanded to be explored, it was the figure that lay upon the ground just under the tree that grabbed his attention. As he approached, Annúneth sat up, the surprise clear on her face as she blinked at him. There was grass in her hair, and white petals from where the wind was blowing them to the ground.

They both blinked at one another in surprise.

Annúneth at seeing him there, in her sanctuary that only a few people knew of, and Legolas at the realization that he had been distraught over not knowing where she was all day. But then, he suddenly realized, perhaps he hadn’t seen her because she didn’t want to be seen. Perhaps she had wanted to be left alone. Unsure whether Annúneth wanted him there or not, the Prince was quick to try and retreat.

“Forgive me, My Lady. I did not wish to intrude.” He bowed before walking back towards the door.

“Wait!”

Her gentle implore had him stopping in his tracks, his hand grazing the bronze of the handle, ready to push it down. “You are not intruding.” Her voice, gentle and kind was low. “Though I am curious as to how you found me here.” Turning, Legolas found her standing underneath the tree, her gaze fixed on him. “Lord Elrond.” He responded, his voice slightly hoarse. He paused, cleared his throat. “Lord Elrond told me where I’d be able to find you.” The Prince admitted, which had Annúneth shaking her head, a fond smile on her face.

Sighing, she raised her arms on either side as a gesture of welcome. “Well since you are already here, why not explore? It would be a shame for you to not be aware of the hidden beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

Gaining some of the confidence he seemed to have lost at the sight of her so carefree and unbound as she appeared to be in the beauty of the Garden, Legolas smiled. “That would be a false claim, My Lady, since I have seen all the beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

His intense gaze never once wavered from her face.

Her mouth opened, as if she were ready to dismiss what he said and prove him wrong, but then she stopped. Realization dawned across her features, which was immediately followed by her cheeks glowing with a hint of rosiness that was so unlike her. Not to mention the way in which her heart thumped in her chest, and pleasure swirled through her very being at the compliment he had given her.

This would not be the first occasion her beauty had been mentioned, though it was always secondary compared to her far lovelier older sister Arwen. Not that Annúneth held any contempt for her sister because it was the truth. Arwen was beautiful.

And yet, at that moment, having Legolas say those words to her, she couldn’t help but feel as if she truly were the most beautiful being on Middle-Earth. And with the way he was looking at her, any on-looker would truly believe it as well.

Legolas was able to see the physical effects of his word, and though it may have pleased any other elf that his words had been the result of it, the young Prince found himself thinking of other way to make her smile as she was right then.

Or more specifically, smile at him that way.

Silence followed his words, though not an awkward one. On the contrary, it felt strange. Legolas felt as he did before he would face an opponent. Charged and slightly anxious, eager to see what the next few moments would bring, and anticipating the outcome of it as well.

Unable to withstand the silence, or rather his gaze, any longer, Annúneth turned her head to gaze around the circular room. “This was my Mother’s garden. She would come here to clear her mind whenever she would feel distressed over something.” The elleth said, smiling at the sight of a bird that was nesting in a bush nearby. Stepping away from the door, Legolas too looked around, unable to help but admire the natural beauty that surrounded them.

Though what she said, did give him pause. “Is that why you are here. Something distresses you?” He asked, his voice gentle as he came to stand in front of her, just a foot or so away. Annúneth sighed, but nodded. “Will you tell me what it is? If it will ease your mind?” The Prince continued, not wanting to see the glint of worry in her eyes as he was right then.

Her Father had told her never to speak of her Gift to anyone, unless she trusted them completely. She had only met him a few weeks ago, and yet..............

Annúneth knew that she could trust Legolas with her life if it ever came to that.

Sighing, the elleth closed her eyes briefly. “Then perhaps it is best that we sit for this conversation.” So saying, she glided to the ground, settling on the soft grass and looked up, waiting for him to do the same. Annúneth sit closer to the tree trunk so they would have a place to rest their backs against. Once sitting beside her, and mirroring her posture so that they were both leaning against the tree.

He turned his head towards her, waiting patiently as she inhaled deeply before exhaling. “I suppose it all started when my Mother was taken by the Orcs.”

————————–

“It must’ve been hard. Seeing your Mother like that.”

It was, but Ada was always by my side. As were my brothers and sister.”

“You are fortunate to have so many people who care for you.”

“I know.”

————————–

“So you thought it was a good idea to steal your Father’s sword?”

“I was only an elfling! I was I to know it would be too heavy to lift.”

“Did you wake up the Master of Arms because you dropped it?”

“Yes, and was branded a would-be-thief by the entire Greenwood.”

————————–

“I have taken up painting for that very reason.”

“I could help you if you’d like. Mother was an avid painter, and I would sit with her in front of my own canvas with an easel to try and paint. Of course I could hardly sit still for long then ten minutes.”

“You sound as if you were quite a handful.”

“There is no doubt that I was. Even now.

————————–

“I have tried my best, but I will never get used to how sour grapes taste for me.”

“But if you sprinkle them with some sugar, does it not improve them?”

“The juice inside makes my cheeks ache. And it causes me to tear up.”

“And that is bad?”

————————–

“Do you miss your Mother?”

“I do, but I know I shall see her when it is my time to sail. Though I am sorry about your Mother.”

“She died an honorable death, fighting for her people.”

“I’m sure her reason to fight was to make sure you lived in a safer world.”

“That is a nice thought. Thank you.”

————————–

“I believe that the Valar created our Fëa because we each have a purpose here on Middle-Earth. It may not be big, but perhaps it is significant.”

“I suppose one need not change the world to have an impact. One only needs to have impact on another being.”

“Yes.”

————————–

Time lost all meaning.

How long did they sit there?

How long did they speak?

How much did she tell him about her Gift?

How much did he tell her about his Burdens?

Did she truly manage to keep the names of her family a secret?

Did he truly manage to keep the names of his parents veiled?

By the time they ran out of words to say, their postures had shifted without their knowing.

Annúneth had her head resting on his shoulder, while Legolas had one of her hand gently gripped in between both of his own. His own head was leaning on top of her own. They found themselves drawing comfort from the other’s presence.

The last time Legolas remembered taking comfort from another had been when his Mother had been alive. It felt strange to rely on someone for something as simple as comfort, and yet, he doubted he would feel at peace with anyone else as he did with Annúneth. Legolas had no idea what it was about her that had him feeling this way. But what he was aware of, was that since that night, when Annúneth had called him a Vagabond and had nearly knocked him out with a frying pan, his life had changed completely.

As the youngest in the family, Annúneth had never had any want for comfort. So then, why was it that with Legolas so near her, with his warmth, his voice and his presence surrounding her, had the elleth feeling as if she had never truly experienced comfort before as she did right then. Sure her Father’s embraces, and her sibling’s comforting words were no comparison. But with Legolas? She felt as if her very Fëa was at peace. Where moments ago her mind had been fluttering in the breeze, like a leaf caught in a disturbing wind, now she felt grounded. Almost as if, someone had taken her hand and pulled her back down before she floated too far out of reach.

If she were to touch the stars, she found herself thinking, she wanted to do so with him.

A bright smile on her lips, she stood, pulling Legolas up with her as she did. The Prince looked at her, slightly confused. Slipping her hand out of his, albeit reluctantly, and stepping towards the lowest branch, Annúneth jumped, catching the strong arm of the tree between her soft palms and hoisting herself up. Once she was sitting atop, she looked down at him, that smile still present on her lips.

Understanding her silent inquiry, Legolas gripped another branch and climbed up as well. Satisfied he would follow her, Annúneth began to climb higher.

Where they had been talking for hours only moments before, their ascent was in complete silence. Every now and then, they would pause, the leaves of the tree allowing them to view one another through the foliage. Their eyes would meet, playful smiles on their lips before they would continue.

Sometimes they would grab for the same branch, and their hands would touch. Giving them both pause as they would try to comprehend what that feeling was that shot through their very being and settled into the deepest recesses of their hearts.

Steady and sure, they both emerged at the top. The tree was high enough to surpass the circular walls of the Garden. Looking around, one could see the entirety of the valley Annúneth called home. It was a view she had seen before, and yet it never ceased to take her breath away. As someone who had never experienced the vision before him, Legolas could not help but stare, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“Even after all the years I’ve lived, I am glad that there are still surprises waiting for me to discover them.” He admitted, finally tearing his eyes away from the view to glance at the elleth next to him. Yet she had her gaze trained towards the night sky.

When had the hour grown so late, neither of them knew.

The stars shone where they always had, since before the Awakening of the Elves, while the moon gleamed where she had been hung in the sky so long ago, with the last flower of Teleprion, the silver tree of Valinor, encased within.

“Have you heard of the tale of how the moon got her dark spots?” She asked, her grey eyes appearing silver under the shine of the full moon. “Yes.” Legolas responded, before adding. “Though I would like to hear it once more, if you were willing to refresh my memory with the tale.”

She rolled her eyes at his obvious teasing, but indulged in his request. “It is said that the moon was once unblemished and crystal clear as an orb, shining down upon Middle-Earth in all her glory. Tilion, the Maia who would guide the moon through the night sky was proud to hear praise of the moon’s beauty and reveled in the task he had been giving, which he did so diligently.” Her hand came to rest atop a branch that Legolas was gripping to keep her balance. Unbeknownst to them, their fingers began to inch closer.

Shifting slightly, which had him leaning closer towards Annúneth to keep his balance, Legolas spoke. “That is until he caught sight of Arien, the Maia who guided the sun across the sky, and fell in love with her.” Smiling softly, Annúneth nodded. “He was so taken by her beauty, they say, the way her golden hair seemed to shine just as bright as the sun. Her kind smile that held the very warmth of the sun. And the joy in her eyes, that seemed to never dim of the laughter that he would hear the moment she would take to the sky.”

Legolas’s gaze found the several dark spots that marred the once clear surface of the silvery orb. “His love for her had him wandering too close to the sun, and the moon was burned.” The Prince whispered, not realizing how the tips of his fingers were now intertwined with Annúneth’s.

The elleth nodded. “So now, he has to keep his distance and love and admire her from afar, though some stories say that he would love nothing more then to be in her presence, just once, even if it would burn him. Which is why, even now, sometimes the Sun and Moon appear in the sky at the same time. Because Tilion wishes nothing more then to catch a glimpse of Arien. Although,” Here her voice took on a slightly dismal tone, as if her very heart was burdened by what happened next. “He learned that he had to keep his distance after an error on his part.”

Her story had him frowning slightly. “Was there a reason behind the story My Lady?” He asked, to which she sighed and turned her gaze to look at him. “Or are you simply referring to the fact that I might burn, should I get too close to you?”

Her gaze snapped towards him, more then a little surprised at how quickly he had picked up on what she’d been trying to say. The wind blew softly, the leaves rustling around them breaking the temporary silence as they continued to look upon one another.

Blue on grey.

Grey on blue.

“A little too late for that.” He finally said, his voice barely above a whisper as his gaze turned tender and soft. Grasping her fingers completely, he raised the hand he’d been touching to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss atop her knuckles. “For I believe I was burned the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Silence followed his confession, and Legolas’s heart sang with joy for having spoken what it had been carrying within it for so long.

“Annúneth.” She said, prompting him to tilt his head at her curiously. “I have burned you.” The elleth explained. “The least I can do is ask you to call me by my name.” Laughing softly to himself, the elf nodded. “Only if you were to call me by mine.” He offered, to which she hummed. “Truth be told, I prefer Vagabond, over Legolas.”

The Prince smiled, turning his body so that he would face her fully. “I do not mind in the slightest.” A mischievous glint lit in his blue eyes, putting Annúneth a little on edge because she knew he loved to tease. “Although I am a little curious as to why you would assume that you are the sun and I, the moon?”

The golden haired elleth lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Well mostly because everyone say that I have a sunny disposition.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “While your disposition has been whispered to be as mysterious as the moon.” Nodding in slight approval, with a look of satisfaction on his face, Legolas hummed under his breath. “And acceptable explanation.” He mused, before continuing. “Though I assume it had nothing to do with the fact that you have golden hair and mine is lighter?”

Pursing her lips to keep from giggling at his obvious vexation that the explanation was, in reality, much more simpler then what she had already offered, Annúneth spoke. “That would be a little too obvious. I was simply trying to help your image by comparing you to the moon. Was it not to your satisfaction?” She asked, unknowingly gravitating towards him, her body leaning closer with each whisper of word.

Letting out a sigh that sounded so wounded, Legolas nodded. “Well I suppose I shall accept it.” He said, barely able to get the words out given the smile on his lips. “Albeit reluctantly.” He added in jest. The hand that did not rest atop her own on the branch had lifted up to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing across her rosy cheek in a gentle caress. Her heart leaped in her chest at the loving touch, while his heart stalled when she consciously tilted her head against his touch.

“The smile on your lips says otherwise.” Annúneth challenged, still leaning closer, barely aware that Legolas was mirroring her movement, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller.

“What smile?” The words were barely out of his mouth when her lips found his, and everything else, even their conversation, became inconsequential.

For truly nothing was of more consequence, then having Annúneth press her lips against his, shy and timid, and yet, sure, certain and unwavering at the same time. Legolas, on his part, returned the sweet gesture with a firm press of his own lips. He was a warrior, and the word gentle had never been one to be associated with him, and yet, in that moment, he was the very epitome of gentleness and tenderness.

The kiss lasted for only a few moments, a simple brush of lips, tentative and cautious.

Just as any new love would be.

And yet they both knew that for them, nothing would ever be the same.

————————–

There was quite the surprise waiting for them once they descended the tree. Annúneth jumped down from the last branch, right into Legolas’s waiting arms. A joyful laugh echoed in the otherwise silent Garden, which had one of the newcomers smiling to themselves as he watched the two elves simply revel in one another’s presence.

His friend who stood next to him, had finally run out of patience.

“I do not believe it is courteous of a guest to disappear for an entire day without warning.” Thranduil spoke, the amusement in his tone betraying him as to how he truly felt about the situation.

Both Legolas and Annúneth stopped dead in their tracks. Their surprise had more to do with the knowledge that they had been together for an entire day and had not noticed the time passing. “Forgive us, My Lords.” Legolas said, his tone apologetic as he bowed. “Annúneth and I lost track of time as we spoke.” He admitted, though the use of her name had Annúneth smiling softly at him.

A development which did not go unnoticed by the two older Elves.

She turned to her father and smiled apologetically. “I am sorry if I worried you Ada.” No sooner had the words left her mouth when Legolas turned to look at her, utter surprise on his face as he repeated the last word she had spoken. “Ada?” He turned so he could look at her fully. “Lord Elrond is your father?” He asked, which had Annúneth frowning in confusion. “Did you not know?” She asked, to which he quickly shook his head.

Thranduil sighed, knowing exactly how the rest of the conversation would play out. “It is rather unbecoming of a Prince to not know a Lady’s father Legolas. I thought I had taught you better.”

The word Prince seemed to have the effect on Annúneth the same way the Ada had had on Legolas. “Prince?” Her voice echoed against the Garden wall. Having recovered, only barely, from the new information he had been exposed to, Legolas couldn’t help but repeat the words she had spoken to him.

“Did you not know?” He asked, to which Annúneth hit him on the shoulder, though there was no malice behind her act. “Of course not! I would never have called you a Vagabond if I had known.” She paused. “Then again, perhaps I still would have. No I am sure I would have.” A nod of affirmation had her reaffirming her statement.

Elrond chuckled, delighted to see his daughter seemed to take the news in a stride. And yet he was not unaware of the change he could see in his daughter. There seemed to be a glow about her, one that he was sure, she herself was unaware of, for she shared it with Legolas. “It would be best if we were to continue this discussion in my study. Perhaps over some breakfast?” He suggested, already steering Thranduil through the door.

Wordlessly glancing at one another, the two elves, feeling as if they were young elflings once again, about to be chastised, followed after their respective fathers.

————————–

“I hear you are to leave tomorrow.”

The sound of her voice had him lifting his head from where he had been putting the last of his essentials in his bag. Annúneth stood there in his doorway, dressed in a blue gown. A blue that seemed rather familiar, yet he could not place it. He nodded, the very gesture reluctant as he picked up the belt that held held hid dagger. “As soon as the sun rises, we will be off.” He said, his voice sounding hard even to his own ears.

He felt her walk towards him, his eyes still glued to his best which he was fiddling with more out of the purpose of doing something. “I had hoped that you would stay a little longer, but it is not to be.”

She was standing in front of him now, and her presence was what urged him to lift his head and gaze upon her lovely face.

A sad smiled played across her lips as she held out a bag he didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Just something I thought would help you on your journey.” Opening the bag, he took note of the several items of food nestled within, carefully packed for his use for as long as they would last on the journey back home. He smiled. “Thank you for your kindness, Annúneth.” He said, setting the bag aside. “I shall surely miss it when I return home.”

Annúneth smiled. “Well I should hope so. I would be greatly offended if you did not for then I would have wasted my hours while entertaining you Prince Legolas.” She teased, though he could see that her heart wasn’t truly in it. But he indulged her nonetheless with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh? Was it out of kindness that you would spend your time with me, My Lady?” He returned, raising an eyebrow at her even as she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps I simply took pity on you for your lack of friends. You did seem rather lonely when you stole into the kitchen Vagabond.” The Vagabond chuckled at her words as the both of them lapsed into silence.

Inhaling deeply, Annúneth cast her eyes towards the bed where his bags were ready to be saddled for the morning. “You really are leaving.” She muttered, as if the words were only just beginning to make sense to her. Legolas nodded, reaching out to guide her face back to him with a tender stroke of her cheek. “Yes, but I do not wish our last night to be full of sorrow. If you are willing, shall we return to the Garden for one last night of escape before I am to depart?” He asked, offering his arm to her.

Smiling, Annúneth wrapped her hands around his elbow.

“It shall be your honor to escort me Legolas.”

“You had best get off the high horse Annúneth. It wouldn’t do lest you fall.”

“I do not fear the fall, for I know you will be there to catch me. Will you not?”

“Always.”

————————–

They were to leave.

They were to return to Greenwood that day.

And Annúneth could not bring herself to smile and wish them farewell on their journey.

Why?

Because she did not want to be parted from her Prince, just as he had no desire to part from his Lady.

But they had to.

He had to return to his Kingdom, and she had to stay with her family in Rivendell where she belonged.

She watched from the window as the line of riders departed, with Thranduil in the lead. Legolas should be beside him and yet, she could not see him there. That is until she spied him at the very end of the procession, his mount halted as the Prince looked up towards the window where she perched.

Even from afar, Annúneth could see the devastation in his blue eyes for they mirrored her own. Her hand lifted from the stone railing, to rest atop the gift he had given her.

Finally, Legolas’s horse turned and galloped after the disappearing procession. As she watched him disappear from her sight, Annúneth whispered a soft prayer to the Valar.

That no matter how long they would be apart, they would meet again.

————————–

Unknown to her, secured with a pretty ribbon was a letter hanging from the branch of the tree they had sat underneath just the night before.

The words within, read thus.

My dear Annúneth,

It is truly with a heavy heart that I say my final words of farewell to you through this letter. I could not say these words in your presence for I was sure, that if I were to speak to you on the day of our departure, then I would not want to leave.

I am sorry to have not made my true feelings to you known, but I promise you, when next we meet, I will not hesitate to show you the true extent of my affections for you. Though that will not stop me from telling you just how much your presence in my life, for the past few months has changed me.

Annúneth, my beloved, even when I tried to stay away, my gaze would remained fixed upon you for I was mesmerized by your beauty and your kind and gentle heart. My heart was full of joy for the simply pleasure of being by your side. Perhaps that is why I did not tell you of my true feelings.

Not a day will go by when I will not think of you. I will dream of the day we would sit by the lake as we had planned, lost in one another, and let the rest of the world disappear around us.

Your name shall be a prayer upon my lips, and each night I will ask the Valar to grant me my wish, and have you by my side soon. That is the only prayer I shall live by until the next time I am your presence.

And like the moon and the sun in the sky, we shall remain by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Legolas

————————–

Unknown to him, hidden between the loaves of bread in the bag she had given him, was a letter that she had written for him.

The words within, read thus.

My beloved Legolas,

How can I put into words what my heart has been bursting to say. To shout from the very treetops of my true feelings for you and how they have been imprinted within me for all eternity. You have not yet departed as I write this letter, and already my heart aches for it is aware of the impending absence.

I have lived a sheltered life, unaware of the world beyond my home, yet you have opened my eyes to a world that lies beyond home, and I pray that I will be able to explore all of it with you by my side. For there is no one else I would have as my guide in this world then you Legolas.

I hope you will not think of me too bold when I say, that it matters not what I may see in my visions, for your soul, your Fëa, is my shelter. I have no desire to be away from you for longer then necessary. When next we meet, I hope you will make me yours, as I hope to make you mine forevermore.

Not a day will go by when I shall not think of you, for my reason in this world is now you. Legolas you are within me, my heart, my mind, and my Fëa until the end of days. Should the world end, I shall be content if I were in your embrace.

I trust you to keep my heart safe my Vagabond. For my heart cannot find peace without you. May the Valar keep you safe on your travels. Be safe My Prince.

I hope like the moon and sun in the sky, we shall soon be by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Annúneth

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