#fellowship reunion

[mimilind]

A Yuletide Reunion in the Shire

Summary: In an alternate universe where the whole Fellowship – and Sméagol – survive and find happiness, Yuletide is coming up and Frodo invites them to a reunion in the Shire.

Pairings: Boromir x Nellas (less known Tolkien elf), Sméagol and Lol-Nani-Ogg (Drúedain OC), Legolas x Kat (human OC from modern Earth).

Word count: 3060 words

Note: This was originally written as a bonus chapter for my long fic Cat of the Fellowship but can be read standalone since it contains no spoilers (except that everyone lives – which it already says in the tags). If you want to know how they all survived you can read the fic. :)

Tags: Christmas fluff, Fellowship reunion, friendship, everyone lives AU, fix-it, some making out, pregnancy (only mentioned).

Image Credits: Old Christmas cards by Jenny Nyström

❈❈❈

A Yuletide Reunion in the Shire

In a jingle of bells, they arrived in Hobbiton shortly before Yule. Nellas and her husband’s sleigh was the most fancy one; it was of black wood with gold lanterns and comfortable seats covered in rabbit fur, and drawn by a pair of headstrong chestnut stallions she had named Fred and George after a tale from her friend Kat's world. They had bought the sleigh in Rohan when the chilly winter rain they started out in changed to a heavy snowfall and made it impossible for their carriage to go further.

Beside them traveled Kat, Legolas and Gimli in a simple sleigh pulled by the horse Arod, then came Aragorn and Arwen’s royal one (but still less fancy), and last in line followed the smallest one where only the noses of Lol-Nani-Ogg and Sméagol peeked out through thick furs and blankets. The sleighs were flanked by two war horses and their riders; the rangers Éowyn and Faramir.

The horses trotted along the main road through a sprinkle of fluffy snowflakes, breaths forming clouds in the frosty air. 

“How lovely,” Kat exclaimed. “It looks like a Christmas card.”

“A what?” Boromir’s voice formed a cloud as well. 

He was very handsome in a fur clad hood, eyes bright and cheeks pink from the chill. Nellas resisted an urge to cover his face with kisses while telling him over and over again how much she loved him. She was learning the fine art of self-control and figured she had become rather good at it the past year.

“It is a kind of letter but with a picture. In my world we would send them to each other this time of year and they looked just like this.” She indicated their surroundings with a gloved hand: the trees shrouded in white; a robin chirping in a branch; a group of hobbit children dressed in bright coats, scarves and hats laughing and playing in the deep snow.

“It is beautiful,” said Arwen. “Such a lovely town.”

The houses in Hobbiton were dome shaped with round doors and windows, and the largest, nicest one was situated on a hill. They tied the horses outside and opened the garden gate.

A hobbit had been clearing a path from the door to the road, now he looked up with a huge grin. “Oh!” He tossed the shovel aside and hurried down to greet them. “My goodness, you came. The whole Fellowship will be reunited at last!”

“Of course we came.” Boromir squatted so he could hug him. 

“When you wrote about your wedding we just had to meet your wife and congratulate you belatedly,” Faramir added, squatting next to his brother.

“Well met, Samwise Gamgee,” said Aragorn, bowing elegantly.

“Strider! Uh, I mean, King Elessar! We didn’t dare hope you would be able to leave your responsibilities at court.”

He grinned. “To you, it will always be Strider, dear Sam. And I left Minas Tirith in the capable hands of my vice-steward. After all, I am king here as well and it is good to travel through one’s realm every once in a while.”

“Come, come, let's get you all inside. Mister Frodo will be thrilled, and my Rosie too, I’m sure. How was the journey?”

“Long.” Arwen yawned.

“Cold,” said Lol-Nani-Ogg from the depths of her hood.

“Fun,” Kat objected. “I love to see real winter again! In Ithilien it mostly rains this time of year.”

Frodo must have heard their voices, for the round door crashed open. “You came!” He nearly slipped down the stairs in his eagerness to join them. “You all came!”

A somewhat chaotic reunion ensued, with many hard hugs and happy exclamations of ‘long time, no see!’, ‘you look well!’, ‘has it really been more than a year already?’, and when they finally went inside there was another bustle as they crowded in the hallway, heads low under the hobbit sized ceiling while their outer garments and luggage were taken care of and rooms assigned.

At last everything was sorted and the guests urged to get changed and rest after their journey while the hosts prepared a festive meal. 

Nellas curiously entered Boromir’s and her room. It was small and snug, with thick curtains, an open fireplace and a human sized bed that must have been bought specially for the occasion. The quilt on the bed was made of strips of fabric in many different colors sewn together, forming an abstract pattern.

“Shall we try the bed?” she suggested.

Boromir smiled. “Good idea.” Stretching out on his back, he bounced on it experimentally. “Mmm, soft. A nap is just what I need.”

She frowned. “I did not mean sleeping.”

“No? What did you mean then?”

“I meant–”

His hearty laughter interrupted her and she jumped on top of him, straddling his broad chest. “You knew what I meant from the beginning,” she accused.

“Aye.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.

“You are always teasing me.” She tried to tickle him as punishment but failed because of how easily he caught her hands and held them.

“Always.”

“Lucky for you I love you anyway.” 

“I do not deserve it.” Still with her hands caught between his, he flipped her on her back and locked her arms above the head. “Now, were we going to try the bed?” 

“Yes, please.” She closed her eyes expectantly as he cupped her face and covered her lips with his. 

The kiss was intense from the beginning; Boromir’s emotions were always near the surface, especially his desire. As their lips moved together, he pressed himself against her with untamed passion while his large hands roamed her curves.

She reciprocated by stroking his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under the rough wool, and wished he would take his tunic off so she could revel in the sight of his bare chest.

Leaving her lips, he began a trail of needy kisses down her neck. His breath was cool against her heated skin, making her heart race and her body ache with want. 

He reached her neckline and opened the first button. “I like this dress,” he mumbled huskily. There were buttons all the way to the hem.

“I… chose it… with you in mind…” she replied breathlessly as he popped them open one by one. “But now it is… your… turn… to undress.”

He pulled off his tunic and shirt in one swift motion. “My pleasure.”

She looked at him with admiration. “No. My pleasure.”

❈❈❈

Sméagol regarded the bountiful table suspiciously. “It is all cooked,” he whispered to his wife.

“I can see that, and don’t you dare be rude about it.” She gave his cheek a quick peck, taking the edge off the words. 

The fat hobbit came over, carrying a plate laden with some whitish, fluffy mess. “I made mashed taters for you.”

Lol-Nani-Ogg gave Sméagol a warning look. “Smell good and look good,” she said in broken Westron. She had never bothered to learn that language entirely since they mostly kept to themselves, and at home they spoke Drúedain.

Sméagol forced a polite smile. “Yess, very nice.”

The hobbit had noticed his wry face and his grin became broad. “I’m only teasing you. Look, here is Rosie with your fish – raw and wriggling, just the way you like it.”

Sméagol regarded the plate of glistening trouts hungrily, relieved and pleasantly surprised. Turning back to the fat… no, to Sam, he said with warmth: “Thank you. We lovess fish.”

Sam patted his back. “Don’t mention it.”

More guests were filing in now, the taller ones bending their heads to pass through the doorway. Luckily the room was spacious and the table large.

Last of all entered Merry and Pippin, neighbors of Master Frodo. Sméagol didn’t know them very well, but they had been in the Fellowship too and seemed quite popular with the others for they caused a loud and hearty round of greetings.

When at last they were done and everyone was seated there was still one empty chair. The nice king looked at it, eyes brightening expectantly. “Is that for…?”

Frodo beamed at him. “Yes, indeed.”

The door opened a final time and a bearded old man walked in, hitting his head first in the door beam and then in the chandelier. “Why, your house keeps getting smaller, Frodo!” he grumbled.

‘Gandalf!’ exclaimed everyone – except for the elves, who exclaimed ‘Mithrandir!’. So typical of their kind, always wanting to be different.

The wizard’s arrival meant more greetings. Sméagol glanced at the fish plate, stomach growling. Was it never time to eat? He was starting to regret accepting Master Frodo’s invitation. Only to think, he could have been nicely tucked in at home with his wife, having all the rice-and-raw-fish cakes he could eat and perhaps taking a stroll by the river in search of birds’ eggs, but instead he was here among strangers, ravenous and feeling out of place.

Frodo rose, calling forth silence by tapping his glass with a knife. “I bid you welcome to Bag End and to this reunion. I am overwhelmed and happy all of you made it here! It feels just like when the Fellowship was formed, but even better now with the addition of so many new friends. But, no more talking; you must be starving, so without further ado: let us eat!”

Finally! Sméagol sent the master a grateful look and grabbed a slippery trout, sinking his sharp teeth into the tender meat.

The meal became more pleasant than Sméagol had anticipated; the food and drink soon revived him, and the others took turns talking about their adventures so nobody seemed to mind his silence. Part of their tales were quite interesting too, particularly the one concerning the master and Sam. Apparently the evil wizard Saruman had escaped from his tower after the war and settled here in Bag End, from where he did plenty of mischief in the country before Frodo and his friends returned. But they fought him bravely, leading hundreds of hobbits to battle and finally driving him out. In the end Saruman’s own servant sliced his throat before he too was killed, and that had been the end of what was now known as the Scouring of the Shire.

This had happened a month or so before Yule the previous year, and during spring the hobbits had worked hard to rebuild everything and restore the broken land. Sam had spread dirt that was a gift from the elf queen Galadriel, and thanks to its elven magic this year’s harvest had been the most bountiful ever in the history of the Shire.

“And part of that is what you are eating now,” he said, indicating his beloved mash.

“The potatoes are really quite good, love,” whispered Lol-Nani-Ogg. “You should try them.”

Tentatively Sméagol took a small spoon. The white fluff melted on his tongue and to his surprise the mellow flavor was really pleasant, with a perfect balance of salt and butter. 

He sneaked a look across the table. Sure enough Sam was watching him with a decidedly smug smirk.

“Not too bad,” Sméagol grudgingly admitted. “But we likess fish better.”

“We do,” agreed his wife, flashing him one of her radiant smiles that always filled his chest with happy flutters. He would never understand what she saw in him, but he was not complaining. Though he knew he didn’t deserve it, the Creator had blessed him in his old age and made him a very lucky man.

When everyone had eaten their fill they moved the chairs closer to the fire and as evening fell they continued talking. Sam served mulled wine and Kat – Legolas’ strange wife who used to be a cat – told them a Yule tale about a child in her world that was the son of the Creator, and something about a stable and a star.

“... and later he was killed as punishment for our crimes. So now everyone has been forgiven for all the bad we ever did, or will do in the future.”

“We are not from your world,” said Boromir. He looked a bit sad about that. 

“I think it works in Middle-earth too. That the worlds have the same Creator.”

He smiled wistfully. “I would argue there are many who do not deserve pardon.” He didn’t say it, but Sméagol got the impression he was talking about himself.

“Nobody deserves it,” she agreed. “But we get it anyway.”

“I believe you,” said Boromir’s brother.

“And I,” said Lol-Nani-Ogg unexpectedly.

Sméagol felt his throat grow a little too tight as the face of his dead best friend floated up before his inner eye. 

Forgiveness… could he really have that?

“Let’s tell riddles now,” said Pippin cheerfully, breaking the serious moment. “I can begin. When young I’m sweet in the sun, when middle-aged I make you gay and when old I’m valued more than ever. Who am I?” He winked and sipped his mulled wine.

“Peregrin Took, your timing is awful,” the wizard muttered, but not unfriendly.

The rest of the evening went by quickly and Sméagol could not recall many times he had enjoyed himself more. When he went to bed that night he reflected that he no longer regretted coming; he had almost forgotten how great it felt to have friends. 

Exhausted after the eventful day, he dozed off with his wife in his arms and slept better than he had in years.

❈❈❈

A cold heap of snow hit Kat squarely in the shoulder. Darn elf; archers shouldn’t be allowed in snowball fights. His aim was uncanny. 

“Twenty-two,” called Legolas’ smugly across the field.

“We’re still one ahead of you, lad,” shouted Gimli back at him, dodging as another ball was hurled his way. The dwarf used his own, special tactic; he preferred to catch his opponent and wrestle them down so he could pour fistfuls of snow directly in their face.

“Over here!” Éowyn waved for Kat to come down into a trench Boromir was making. She had nearly as good an aim as Legolas so she was a useful ally, and Boromir’s brute strength came in handy for the digging part.

Soon Team Éowyn had an effective battle machine going: Kat was speed-rolling hard balls, Boromir provided her with snow for building material and Éowyn launched a continuous barrage on the enemy so fast her gloves became a blur. At the other side, Legolas, Aragorn, Faramir and Nellas were forced to huddle in their snow fort, unable to fight back in the relentless bombardment.

This was Gimli’s cue. Sneakily he advanced on them from behind and pounced on Legolas. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…”

It would have ended with victory for Team Éowyn if not the hobbit team had unexpectedly chosen that moment to attack. Everyone had forgotten about them because they had spent so long digging snow tunnels rather than engaging in the war.

“For the Shire!” they yelled in one voice, jumping up from the ground in several places at once. Between themselves, Frodo, Sam, Rosie, Merry and Pippin easily bested the surprised enemy leaders and had soon poured so much snow down their clothes they became chilled to the bone.

“I yield,” said Boromir between chattering teeth. 

“Me too,” said Aragorn.

“I count forty hits for the Shire,” said Merry. 

“Only thirty-five for us.” Gimli shook icicles from his beard.

“Victory!” yelled Pippin, making a funny little dance. “Well done, team.”

Legolas left his protective fort and stretched out a damp, gloved hand to Kat. “Peace?”

“Just a moment…” She swiftly produced the snowball she had kept hidden behind her back and threw it squarely in his chest. “There. Even!”

“Sneaky.” He caught her in a wet hug and kissed her with cold lips. 

“Come everyone, let's go in and have a second breakfast,” said Frodo. “I prepared chicken soup before we went out; it should be ready now.”

When they hustled inside, they found Gandalf, Arwen, Sméagol and Lol-Nani-Ogg comfortably drinking tea by the fire. 

The wizard gave the disheveled, shivering warriors a disapproving look. “Fools.”

“Foolissh, indeed,” Sméagol huffed. “We doesn’t like ssnow.” 

After a change of clothes and with her belly full of hot soup, Kat joined the group by the fireplace, taking a seat in Legolas’ lap to save chairs. 

Her heart felt full as well; full of warmth and love, and completely devoid of the stress she remembered from every Christmas in her old world. Here nobody bothered about costly presents or advanced home decorations. She could simply be. Just enjoy the peaceful silence, the pleasant company and her husband’s warm, comforting arms holding her close. It was all she needed.

Kat rested her head against Legolas’ chest, listening to his calm heartbeat and the occasional crackle from the fire. Her limbs were pleasantly tired after the morning’s snowball fight. 

After a while her eyes landed on Rosie Cotton. Sam’s wife was a charming hobbit lady, pretty and cheerful, and had entertained the others with an endless supply of riddles yesterday. But didn’t her stomach look slightly swollen? Under the thick winter clothes it was hard to see clearly.

She sent a silent thought to Legolas via the renewed mental connection they had discovered on the wedding night: Don’t you think Rosie looks a bit on the heavy side? Bellywise, I mean.

Aye, they are expecting. Sam told me yesterday.

And you didn’t tell me? she scolded.

I was busy.

Kat had to grin at that; the previous night had been rather intense. The crackling fire, warm colors and low ceiling in their cozy room had kindled romantic feelings.

She thought more about that night, eyes still lingering on Rosie’s discreet bump. As usual they had taken measures to prevent a such, but maybe… 

I suppose it’s a good time to have a baby now that there is peace in the world, she thought tentatively.

Legolas' arms tightened around her and he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent. Aye, it is a good time.

I have suddenly become a bit tired. She faked a yawn. Time for an afternoon nap?

Good idea. He gave her forehead a soft peck.

Shortly thereafter they left together, hand in hand, to share another moment of sweet love and hot passion – this time without precautions.

❈❈❈

A/N:

Happy holidays! This is a standalone bonus chapter for my long fic Cat of the Fellowship. Welcome to read the full story on AO3 or FFN if you like. :)

[fuckyeahelijahwoodfan]

Hobbits reunion in Atlanta for comic convention

Atl comic convention 2023

[addictivecontradiction]

The Lord of the Rings: the fellowship of the ring, 2001

[thecurefordepression]

[tenth-sentence]

'So do you,' Frodo replied; but secretly he thought that Gandalf looked older and more careworn.

"The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" - J.R.R. Tolkien

[ladyofthelake]

Celeborn is gonna be fine babes x

[thewulf]

Am I Wrong? || Aragorn

Summary: Request: Could you write something about (fem)reader who's part of the fellowship and really close to Strider? When they split up to find Frodo after Boromir blows the horn, reader goes with Merry and Pippin and gets separated from Strider.... Read Rest Here

A/N: Picking up when the group reunites in Isengard after Treebeard/Hobbits/Reader sack the place :) This is really sweet and fluffy, thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !!

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.7k +

TW: General LOTR triggers, anxiety, fear, kidnapping, orcs,

Aragorn followed behind Gandalf as he led the small group to Isengard to deal with the dark Wizard himself. What he wasn’t expecting was to run into another part of the Fellowship after so being separated for so long.

He heard the Hobbits before he saw you standing there, radiant as ever, “I feel like I’m back at the Green Dragon after a hard day’s work.” Pippen spoke with his pipe happily placed in his mouth relieved the events of Isengard were over more than anything.

Merry spoke next, “Only, you’ve never done a hard day’s work.” That’s when he heard your bubbly laughter in response to the usual joking hobbits who were clearly very inebriated. You on the other hand seemed totally in control of the situation.

Aragorn’s heart pounded in his chest as he spotted you standing with your side facing him chatting happily with the two Hobbits that stole you away from him. You were alive. Somehow more beautiful than he ever remembered you being. His eyes scanned up and down your figure making sure they truly weren’t deceiving him. You were here in Isengard. Merry and Pippen too.

Merry stood, almost falling over, shouting at them with rosy, red cheeks, “Welcome my Lords, to Isengard!” You turned with the biggest smile on your face. Once your eyes landed on Aragorn’s you couldn’t take them away. Your smile grew as his mouth dropped in shock seeing you standing there alive and well. He couldn’t track you. He thought the worst of it. He knew right then that he had to tell you. He loved you. So deeply. He never knew if he was going to see you again, he thought the worst of the Orcs after not being able to find your tracks with the Hobbits.

“Y/N.” He spoke before nearly shoving the Hobbits away from where you were standing. He needed to be right next to you. Your smile turned to one of focus as you took him in after too long apart. Truly, you knew you loved him too. You wished to never spend another night away from your Strider. He was your home and comfort. He became your person without you even knowing it.

Without another word you through your arms around him tightly, bringing him in for an unexpected embrace. Unafraid of all the glances and knowing smiles from the fellowship and other men around you. You couldn’t seem to care about that right now, you’d deal with the embarrassment later, “Strider. What are you doing here?”

Before he could answer you Gimli shouted from behind the reunion, “You young rascals! A merry hunt you’ve led us on… and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!”

After dropping your arms from around his neck, you stepped around your missed companion taking offense to his words, “They’ve earned it Gimli!” You only smiled bigger once you felt Striders hand resting on the small of your back. He had always been protective of you but never so forward with it. The two of you had pined from afar but never acted on it as that would be seen as improper. But that was then. That was before he had feared the worst. You were alive. Breathing right in front of him with the most precious blush sitting on your cheeks. Yeah, he knew it was over for him. He needed you and was tired of trying to hide it.

Merry cheered with his pipe after you spoke and before Pippen tuned in, “We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts.” He giggled in his non-sober state, “The salted pork is particularly good.” Pippen added for good measure knowing it would get under his dwarf friend’s skin.

You nodded along with them giggling yourself, “It is indeed.” You saw the gleam in Striders eye like he was trying not to laugh at the situation they had found themselves in. The plan certainly wasn’t running into the three of you while in an inebriated state. Aragorn knew you well and currently you were particularly giggly, a sign you’d partaken in some of their endeavors even if you tried to deny it.

The Hobbits waved their friends into Isengard, “We’re under orders from Treebeard who’s taken over management of Isengard.” Merry led the group in leaving Strider standing next to you holding onto the reigns of his horse. After the two of you shared a few moments just staring at the other he finally decided to speak to you. Neither of you were willing to follow the group at that moment. The two of you had a reunion to attend to before dealing with Saruman.

“I thought you were dead.” He admitted to you. Aragorn couldn’t meet your eyes as you just looked at him with a bit of bemusement forming along your tapered smile.

You tisked at him shaking your head, “You think so little of me Strider, no?” A growing smirk was playing at your lips as you studied his downtrodden expression.

His eyes finally looked into yours again, “Never, you know this. But I… I could not find your tracks along the Hobbits…”

“You did not think I would cover my tracks?” You eyebrows rose, challenging him now, “I thought you have always said I learned from the best?” Referring to him, naturally.

He let out a lengthy laugh. The tension in his shoulders released seeing you as the same person he thought he lost only a few weeks prior. Even though it had only been a few weeks he knew he could never part from you for that long again. He was a fool and only he came to realize that once you had slipped through his fingertips after getting taken by the Orcs. You didn’t hear his yell for you as he watched you fight. But even you, one of the best Rangers he knew, couldn’t overcome so many of them all at once. And just as he saw you, you had vanished in front of him along with the Hobbits. He had never felt such a failure before seeing you disappear with the creatures you had detested for as long as you’ve been alive.

“I should have never doubted you.” He spoke with that twinkle in his eye. He adored you, through and through. A slow gulp overtook him as he studied you. He always knew you were beautiful, ever since you met him all those years ago. But now, after it took him losing you to realize that he was in love with you, he understood just how stunning you truly were.

You nodded with that confidence he had adored in you, “Aye. Thought you would have learned by now Master Strider.” Tossing him a wink even you did not know where this overly friendly attitude towards your partner was coming from. That’s all he was and could ever be, just a partner in work.

He bowed his head with a similar smirk gracing his face, “Indeed. Forgive me, Y/N. But I was terrified. I thought I had lost you. My thought process was… less than rational.” When his eyes met yours once more a sad smile parted his lips. It hit you that he truly thought he might have actually lost you. Thinking of what you would do had you thought you lost him had you in an instant fit of tears. There would be no rationality in your actions had you thought of Strider dying.

His striking blue eyes sent a familiar shiver down your spine. You gave him a quick nod, “I will always forgive you, my king.”

Strider let out that familiar laugh that you had adored so much. The one that sent a shiver though your body, “It wounds me that you mock me so easily, my Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop your fluttering heart at his words, my Y/N, “I would never do such thing, you are my king, no?” You rose your eyebrows in curiosity. Sure, the news that he was the heir of Isildur took you by surprise. It didn’t shock you completely though. There was always something about him that felt so other worldly. When Legolas let true of his identify at the Council of Elrond it all sort of made sense. You’d been Rangers together for nearly thirty years, both of you being Dunedin it made sense to pair the two of you together early on in your ventures. He had never told you of his true heritage throughout all that time together. While it stung when you learned you understood why he had done so.

“I see you have not lost your tongue.” He avoided your question.

You smiled knowing his usually ways of dodging, “Would you rather they take it?”

But a quick shake of the head let you know he was simply playing, “Never. Your wit is but my favorite thing about you.”

Letting out a feigned gasp you shook your head, “I should be so offended Aragorn.”

“What do you mean?” He looked surprised by your reaction unsure if you were simply messing with him or being completely serious.

“Do you find me that unattractive?” You asked a little too bluntly knowing that you were surly crossing that invisible line the two of you had danced around for far too long.

A fiery blush rose to his cheeks letting you know you had finally gotten the better of him, “Oh no. Never. No. I did not mean it like that. Please…”

You stopped his incoherent rambling with a stifled giggle, “I tease.”

Shaking his head slowly he knew he likely looked a fool standing in front of you. He couldn’t hide it though as all of his emotions came forward seeing you there alive and well. He had begun the process of mourning your death, thinking he’d never see you again. He knew he wanted to tell you exactly how he felt, right here. He wanted to waste no more time. He came to the striking realization that even no matter skilled you or he was life in middle earth was very hostile and unforgiving. The chance of death was high and even higher now that the two of you had joined the Fellowship.

“You are fortunate I care for you very deeply.” He chose his words carefully, hopeful you would pick up on his true meaning.

“Oh?” You heard his words a little surprised. There was not much he could say that took you by surprise but this was one of them that did. He had never so much admitted he cared for you at all let alone deeply in your time together. Strider was very kind to you but the two of you shared a working relationship at most. You weren’t out here letting your tightly bound feelings out and he certainly wasn’t either.

His confidence grew seeing the color rise to your cheeks at his words. You were thinking and hard at it apparently, “That cannot be all you have to say.” He stepped forward knowing that he had the upper hand on you for once. He could never seem to catch you off guard until this very moment.

You sucked in a breath not having a clue where this seemingly innocent interaction was heading. Turning around you spotted the rest of The Fellowship talking to Treebeard far off in the distance. You spun back finding him standing much, much closer than he was before. Eyes widening your head was not making sense of what was actually happening, “I was not expecting you to say that.” It was you deflecting this time which drew an arrogant smirk on the man standing far closer than you were used to. How did he smell so good? Surely he hadn’t bathed in a while. How did Strider do it? Make your mind fuzzier than ever.

He had to look down to meet his eyes with yours, “I never want to spend a day away from you again.”

If your cheeks were not already aflame with realization they were flooding with color now, “You do not?”

It was he who had the courage to make the first move on you after seeing how easily you reacted under his words. He took his hands and brushed away a streak of dirt across your cheek slowly sending your already racing heart into another frenzy, “No, never. These last few weeks have been the worst in my life. Never do I wish to part from you again. If that is what you wish for too.” Ever the man you fell in love with, he left the decision up to you.

It was your turn to be courageous now, “I wish the same.”

His devilish smirk turned into a smile of utmost joy. A smile you so rarely saw on the man. For you knew you didn’t wish to separate from him ever again either. Nearly every moment you were away you thought of him. You thought what he would do in your situation and tried your hardest to stay positive. If it were not for the Hobbits you may have stayed to fight with the Rohirrim when they had saved you from the clutches of the orcs who had you running for days on end. But you knew Strider would save them before fighting on his own, the Hobbits would never survive Gondor on their own. In a way he had saved your life countless times even when he was not there. Strider stayed with you always. You loved him always.

It was then that he realized he had nothing to lose. The way you had looked at him told him exactly what he wanted to know. You had loved him just as dearly as he loved you, “Can I tell you something?”

A nod came from you, “Anything.”

It was now or never and he wasn’t planning on missing his chance, “I love you.”

You could not help the way your mouth dropped at that, “You what?”

“I love you.” He said again with more confidence. He loved you and he couldn’t keep it from you anymore. Strider also knew that things would never go back to normal after this quest. His true identity was revealed. Things would change. As much as he longed to go back to the simple life of patrolling the woods with you he knew that’d never be in his cards any longer. And if his life was going to change he wanted to bring the one thing that brought him comfort along for the journey as well. If he were to be king he wanted you to be his queen. No, needed you to be his queen. For a majority of his success came from you being there with him helping and guiding him.

“You love me?” You asked more to yourself than to him. When he placed his hands on your shoulders with a gentle touch you knew you were a goner. The look in his eyes was like nothing like you had seen from him, “Why me? We’ve been partners for over thirty years and… where is this coming from?”

He stopped your racing mind by running his thumb along your lower lip, ever the intimate action sending your speeding heard into overdrive, “I’ve always known. But losing you… thinking you died. It all but made me realize how daft it is to hide it away when I can tell you outright when clearly you feel the same. Am I wrong?” He smiled as he held the back of your head in his hand so gently.

“No. Certainly not wrong.” You spoke in a soft whisper. When he smiled even brighter than you had truly ever seen you had to tell him too. You’d all but implied the same feelings but you needed to let it out too, “I love you too.”

The next moments felt like a blur. He pulled you close before whispering in your ear, “The next time the nosy prince of Mirkwood is not watching I will give you a proper kiss, my lady.” It was the first time he’d called you that in all your time knowing him. A rush of warmth was felt throughout your body. It felt… right. Like you were meant to be at his side.

Once he released you from the hold he had you in you turned your head over your shoulder spotting the blonde-haired elf sitting on his horse paying much more attention to the two of you rather than whatever tale Treebeard was telling the new group.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you over the absurdity of the situation. Of all the things you thought could happen today confessing your love to the man who had you enraptured ever since you met him was the last thing you thought possible. Yet here you were. Avoiding the ever-clear eyes of your elven friend, “Damn elves.”

He nodded in agreement, “Come on, hop on.” He led you to his horse where he got you situated before he got on behind you. Slowly, he led you back to the group. You caught Legolas’ side eye knowing the he had to have heard a majority of the conversation if he wanted too. And knowing him, he wanted too.

When Strider’s horse stopped he made sure to keep his hand on you, uncaring of the curious stares from the rest of the group. He loved you. They knew it. Why should he have to hide it any further? Finally, it felt like something in this journey made sense. All he had to do now was keep you safe and destroy the ring. Simple, right?

Lord Of The Rings Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @shiftingtomydrs

[possibly-a-table-or-just-gay]

I'm very bored so here's my 'Thorin lives and joins the fellowship to hover around Frodo like the concerned uncle he is' fic that will probably never get finished

(For context Bilbo thought Thorin died and this is their reunion)

[natalieironside]

Imo Tolkien doesn't get nearly enough recognition for how well he wrote friendly bickering

The fellowship were all the way up each other’s assholes the entire time and it was great. When people part & meet up again it's about 50/50 whether there'll be a tearful reunion or somebody going "Oh. I didn't know you'd be here."

[aphrogeneias]

it's been seven hours and fifteen days —

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (soulmate!au)

summary: you and eddie find each other again at the deuce. your reunion is surprisingly easy, but your past was from it.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: angst, fluff, some soulmate lore, childhood memories, small mentions of sickness and death (eddie's mom). reader is referred to by a nickname (joan).

series masterlist

It started with a book.

At first, you weren’t sure if that’s what it meant, though you were taught to expect it ever since you were able to understand the concept of soulmates, right about the time you were taught how to read and write.

Everyone had one, or at least that's what you were taught as well. As soon as you were able to remember, you'd hear stories about people finding their other half through their lost belongings, objects traveling around the world to the hands of the ones who held their owner's heart. 

Quite a simple concept, really. Everything that is lost by someone is never really lost, only found by their soulmate, and that was how they are supposed to find their way to each other. A trail of crumbs to your final destination, your fated pair.

You didn't understand how it worked until you started school. Then, it would become a reality, and not just the stories your mother would tell as she put you to bed at night and filled your little heart with wonder. Classmates would come in with their soulmates' things in their bag, eager to show them off — toys of all kinds, notebooks written in entirely different alphabets, earrings missing one pair, blankets, teddy bears.

In the year you started middle school, there were around four billion people in the world. You'd figured you would be one of the kids who's soulmate lived on the other side of the world, rather than the ones who found their other half on the next town over, or just a state away. It would be just your luck, of course.

It turned out you didn't have to look that far. He lived in the same neighborhood.

Your mom had a friend called Jane. You remember Jane because you thought she was beautiful, with her kind brown eyes and long flowing skirts. Jane seemed to you like a fairy from your storybooks, shrouded in ethereal mystery. She was always in your mother's kitchen, both of them sitting on your dinner table, and talking for what felt like hours, and she always brought along her son. A boy your age called Edward, or just Eddie, how he always liked to be called.

You barely remember a time where Eddie wasn't in your life. His mother would bring him along and you'd spend your afternoons together, playing and building worlds of your own on the carpet of your childhood bedroom. You were knights and princesses, pirates and mermaids, aliens and astronauts, but most of all you were free to be whoever you wanted to be in those golden-tinted days of your childhoods.

One day, when you were eleven, a book appeared on the floor of your bedroom. You recalled it just like that, because it wasn't there in one moment, and all you had to do was turn your head the other way, and when you looked back to that same spot, there it was.

A 1965 edition of The Fellowship of the Rings, by Ballantine Books. It had a blue cover with red details, and you knew right away it wasn't yours. You didn't own any of the Lord of the Rings trilogy books because you had never read them, and Eddie, already your best friend by then, never let you forget it.

Upon further inspection, you found two notes written on the first page. One was a note written in red ink, addressed to Jane by someone named Al — Eddie's das, that much you knew, and you also knew he wasn't around much — and below that, a more recent note written in blue ink that said:

"To my precious son,

Happy Birthday!

May you always find your way home.

From your mother.

06/11/1976"

At first, you'd thought Eddie had forgotten it on your last playdate, though you didn't remember him carrying a book with him that day. Your answer came a few days later when Jane was visiting, and you overheard her saying to your mother that Eddie was distraught upon finding that he'd lost his favorite book. He had brought it to school with him, and when he went home, it wasn't in his backpack.

It didn't take too long for you to put two and two together.

Scared of everyone's reactions — your mom's, Jane's, Eddie's — you hid it. The book and the truth, hidden in a box under your bed. You didn't know how to react, much less how to disclose this in a way that wouldn't change everything around you. You were a child, after all. Years later, you wondered how different your lives would have been if, instead of eavesdropping on their conversation, you had just told them what had happened. 

Jane Munson died not long after that, and you couldn't stop everything from changing, then. You didn't understand much, just that it was sudden, and fatal, and in the span of less than a year, she was gone. Eddie was distraught, and for weeks after the funeral, he was not the boy you knew and loved. He was a shell of himself, after losing his mother and moving to the trailer park with his uncle, since his father was in jail — something you'd just found out too. It was too much to assimilate, and even at twelve years old, you understood.

He started losing more things in that meantime.

You stared at a blank point that was vaguely at the height of the bottom of your bed as if it hid a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any minute.

Eddie was sitting on the chair of your vanity, going on and on about the new friends he had made at Hawkins Middle School, friends that didn't include you, since you were still at that phase where hanging out with boys, boys that weren't Eddie, gave you nausea. He was starting to feel a little more like himself again, his buzzed hair growing into small curls, his dimples giving a sign of life again as he started to smile more.

Still, though you were relieved, you were nervous. More of Eddie's things were finding their way to you. An action figure, a set of dice, a plastic mug. You did not know how to approach the subject, and it got more and more difficult as time went on. You felt like you were losing your timing, like the opportunity was slipping through your fingers each time you chose to stay quiet.

"You ever thought about what you'll do when you find your soulmate's things?"

Eddie groaned at your sudden interruption. "Really? That's what you're thinking about?"

"It's just that… See, this girl in my class…" Sighing, you give up making sense. "Whatever. Just answer the question."

"I don't know. That shit isn't real." 

You were still getting used to Eddie's slight change in demeanor. He was still the sweet boy you've known, but a little rougher around the edges. Angry at the world for taking away his mother, full of resentment towards his father, confused and scared. Though that anger was never directed at you, you felt some ripples of it, like right now.

“Of course it’s real, we see it all the time.”

Unable to meet his eyes, you hear a scoff coming from his direction. “I don’t know. My parents weren’t soulmates, your parents weren’t either. What are the chances?”

“Don’t say that. There’s always a chance…” Your voice got smaller and smaller, trying to take back what you’d said. It wasn’t the right time, and it wasn’t right for you to force this conversation with the grieving boy in front of you. He didn’t need one more thing to worry about, you told yourself.

“I don’t care. I think I’d just leave them alone.”

Nodding, you moved on to a different subject. It wasn’t the right time.

It would never be.

You thought you had forgotten what he looked like.

Which was impossible, because you saw him everywhere. You saw him in the long haired, rowdy boys you saw up and down Sunset Strip. You saw him in crowds of headbangers with their fists in the air. You saw him in guitar shops, in fantasy novels, in cans of spray paint and black pencils. In tight hugs and loud laughs. In the little kids playing at the park, holding hands and exchanging vows of eternal friendship. In yourself, whenever you look in the mirror.

You wondered if he saw you too. If he looked around at every corner he turned and there you were. A missing limb he could still feel even though it had been gone a long time. Twin ghosts haunting each other.

You couldn't forget even if you wanted to, and you never did, because he was a part of you — and now he was here, in the flesh, as if no time had passed between those five years you were gone. That’s what it felt like to you, at least, although both of you had changed a lot since then. From a distance, you could see Eddie stood taller, had a more confident stance to him. His shoulders were broader, his arms filled his jacket’s sleeves a little bit more. You fought the urge to let out a dreamy sigh, almost forgetting you were on the verge of tears not two minutes before this.

The urgent phone call you were having with Robin had to be cut short when you heard a series of impatient knocks on the door of the staff room. It was Linda, asking you what you were doing there. You mumbled something about needing to make a quick call, but that went through one ear and fell out the other, as Linda was locking your arm with hers and leading you to the front of the small stage where Corroded Coffin dealt with their equipment.

Trying to disguise your trembling, a sinking feeling that took over your whole body, you held tightly onto Linda’s arm, and planted yourself firmly to the ground where you stopped. 

“Boys, boys! I want you to meet someone. This is Joan, everyone’s favorite waitress.”

He was the first one who reacted, while his friends, your old friends, only gawked. Gareth dropped his drumsticks, Jeff had opened his mouth three times before deciding not to say anything — which made you realize he didn’t have his braces anymore — and Grant, ever the expressive one, had both eyebrows raised, giving away all his surprise.

“Joan?”

“Because I’m a runaway, like Joan… Jett.” That wasn’t the first, the second or the hundredth time you had to explain that dumb nickname. Joan was not your real name, it wasn’t even close to it, but Linda was insistent on calling you that. She thought it was funny, a runaway girl from the midwest trying to make her way through Los Angeles, and she’d been calling you that since your first week working there. “Not her most creative moment.”

“It’s so fucking good to see you!” Jeff was the first to break the silence, and then the other boys followed suit, engulfing you in tight hugs, releasing all, or at least most of, the tension inside of you. Giggling softly, you hugged them back.

“It’s good to see you too, guys. It’s been a long time.”

The only people who didn’t join were Linda, who stood confused to the side, and Eddie, who stayed in place, looking paler than he already was, like he would pass out at any moment. You felt the same, but Eddie was the one who always wore his feelings on his sleeve, not you.

“What exactly is this?” Your boss asked, pointing her red stiletto nails at the scene unfolding in front of her. “Where do you know her from?”

“From our hometown.” You explained, tucking your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, trying to make yourself smaller. “We went to the same school.”

“More like the only school in town.” Gareth laughed. “It’s a small town but an even smaller world, I guess.”

“Just wait until you get settled here. Everyone knows everyone, it’s worse than Hawkins.” You scoffed, trying to lighten up the mood. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost a month.” Eddie was the one who answered, finally finding his voice. “We’ve been bouncing from bar to bar until Linda was kind enough to take us in now.”

“You’re welcome, dear. It will be a pleasure to have you here. Now…”

As Linda started to explain some of the basic rules of operations of The Deuce — opening and closing times, where to find everything, introducing them to the other staff members — you and Eddie stayed behind, a thin veil of tension still standing between you, but then, Eddie reached out, an outstretched arm forward, beckoning you with a soft voice, “C’mere.”

And you went, with no hesitation. For a moment, you even felt silly for all that fuss you made moments before, that anxiety that threatened you to burn a hole on the ground and swallow you whole. It was just Eddie, the boy who used to hold your hand whenever you felt this exact same way, all those years ago. Ironic how he was the cause and the cure to all of your problems.

You let him wrap his arms around you, closing the gap that the red thread connecting you was pulling and pulling until you were pressed together again, bodies joined like two pieces of a puzzle. You stayed like that for a full minute, your arms around his narrow waist, his squeezing you to his chest until it hurt, but you didn’t dare let go, and for the first time in a long time, you felt right. You were home again.

“I missed you so much.” You found courage to say something in your hiding place, your head pressed to his chest. His smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne was oddly calming, making you breath in deeply. 

“I missed you too.” Eddie took a small step back, raising one hand to the back of your head, holding you in place. You were pretty sure you had the dumbest lovestruck look in your eyes while you looked at him, but you couldn’t really care at that moment. You could be embarrassed later. “How have you been?”

“I, uh…” 

“Hey, Van Halen!” Linda called out from the other side of the bar, snapping her fingers at you, “you can catch up later. Get your pretty boy ass over here.”

Untangling from each other, you’re both clearly flustered, Eddie’s face a blooming shade of pink. You’re quick to remedy it. “We can talk later, after your show. After I clock out. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.” 

He walked away, then, still looking back at you. Both smiling, both feeling the relief of that red string, now much less strained, but no less beaten. Far from healing, but one step closer. At least, that’s how you felt, but you knew that was only the beginning of a long and winding road to the recovery of your friendship. You didn’t dare to think of something more, crushing the seeds of hope that threatened to take root in your heart.

They were just as stubborn as you, though, and settled anyway.

[charlidos]

During award season 2017, when Viggo was asked about the lovely minor Fellowship reunion that happened in January that year, I noticed he used (at least) three different ways of addressing Orlando (if anyone knows of any more, please let me know!). So I cut them together in a video.

Orlando Bloom, the boss elf

Orlando Bloom, the magical elf

Orlando Bloom, the elf prince

Edit: Found a fourth name: Orlando Bloom - the maximum elf

Viggo also says it with a distinct pause, and a laugh. It's funny and adorable. So many pet names for his favourite elf boy!

Also, the reunion happened like 2 weeks after Orlando turned 40. Did they all celebrate that together as well?

[imagines--galore]

||A Confession Years in the Making||

Summary: A reunion between two friends, turns to something.....more.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Fluff. A little mention of blood and death. And some kissing in the end.

A/N: @aidansloth​ and @chocotacobread​ suggested that I continue this and I couldn’t help myself so here it is!

The battle of Helm’s Deep was won.

It was hard-earned and brutal. So many lives had been lost.

You were one of the few elves that had survived. It had not been easy. The enemy had seen to slaughtering you whatever chance it could get. Yet you had been steadfast and true in your skills as a warrior. You still had so much to live for and one mere battle would not deter you from your true purpose.

Sustaining no life-threatening injuries, you had taken to carrying out other tasks. One of them being searching for survivors amongst those fallen. More then once you had stooped down to carry an injured soldier to the Healing Halls. Your elf strength aided in carrying them, though it didn’t take long for your clothing to be stained with blood and grime from your task. You had removed your armor earlier, or rather what was left of it. You had used several pieces of your armor as ammunition during the battle.

Despite your relatively high level of endurance, you were beginning to tire now. You had not rested after the battle, and now it had been nearly a full day since you had any rest. Before that there had been the long march across Middle-Earth. Suffice to say when Aragorn approached you tell you there was a room where the remaining Fellowship and elves were resting, you were quick to follow him.

Entering the room you were greeted by the sight of several figures slumbering upon the ground underneath warm blankets. You were too exhausted to notice anyone or anything as Aragorn guided you to an empty spot and handed you a blanket and a rough looking pillow. You barely thanked him as you pushed off your boots and outer tunic, revealing the slightly cleaner one underneath. You would’ve preferred a bath but you were just so tired. As soon as you laid down you were asleep, unaware of the elf that lay beside you, lost in his own dreams.

                                             ————————-

A warmth enveloped your hand, prompting you to open your eyes, staring sleepily at the eyes of the elf lying beside you. He seemed to have just woken as well, since his own eyes were barely open, yet there was a small smile playing on his lips as he stroked his thumb along the back of your hand. You closed your eyes with a gentle smile, your body subtly moving a little closer to his.

“Thank the Valar you are safe.” He whispered so softly that the words reached no other ears but your own. You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing them softly against his skin. “And I am glad that you are safe as well, Legolas.”

The both of you fell asleep again.

                                             ————————-

You had been to countless elven festivities during your lifetime. And those of men was not so different from your own.

There was drinking involved, of course, songs, dance, merriment and laughter. Wherever you looked, you saw families reunited with their loved ones, soldier’s sitting together and remembering their fallen comrades. The Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, as you had been introduced, were dancing on the table. The White Wizard, Mithrandir, was watching amused. He caught your gaze and gave you a warm smile, which you returned. However, your gaze was directed towards a certain elf and his dwarf friend. You navigated your way over to them, amused to see what they were up to.

There seemed to be some sort of drinking competition, you deduced from the many many tankards that were now resting upon the table. As the Prince of Mirkwood appeared from behind a tankard, once he had drained it of course, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Would not be cheating if you were to win? You know their ale cannot effect us.” You whispered to him as you watched Gimli reach for yet another tankard.

Legolas smiled mischievously before pressing a lips to his fingers. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his antics. It didn’t take long for Gimli to promptly keel over and begin snoring as the ale finally got to him. You couldn’t help but laugh at the smug yet unbothered manner in which Legolas stated his victory. “Game Over.”

You patted his arm gently before moving to the unconscious. Together the both of you managed to pick him up and carry him out of the Feasting Halls. Finding the rooms where you would be sleeping, Gimli was deposited there, and after throwing a blanket over him, and listening to him curse at Legolas for winning, though in jest, the two of you stepped out of the room and into the hallway.

The two of you turned your heads to look at one another, before you reached out to clasp his hand within you own and began to lead him down the hall. Past the crowd of happy people and out into the cool evening air. The both of you stood next to one another, hands still clasped. The silence seemed to stretch on and on, yet it was one of comfort.

“I did not think we would survive.” You finally spoke, allowing a slight tremble to your voice as you did. Legolas nodded. “There was a moment I thought as such as well.” He responded. If it had not been for Mithrandir and Éomer’s timely arrival they would have been overwhelmed quickly by the enemy.

“We elves tend to not think about death, given that were are immortal.” You turned so you could face him. “But during the battle, watching our kinsmen fall, I realized we are just as vulnerable as Man.” He gave your hand a light squeeze as if in reassurance. Your gaze flickered to your joined hands and raised them between the two of you. You lifted your other hand as well as you began to play with his fingers, and drawing patterns against his palm. “And though I had resolved to tell you even before the battle of how I felt, I realized I should’ve done it a long long time ago.”

You finally looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears to see a storm of emotions darkening his gaze. Yet he looked at you so tenderly. You had never seen him look that way before, though little did you know, over the years, when your gaze had been fixed on something else, he had looked at you with that expression quite often.

“I suppose it was a mistake on both our parts, to keep something from one another for so long.” He finally said, reaching up with his other hand to push some of your hair behind your pointed ear. The wind was blowing softly, allowing strands of your hair to dance in the breeze. You had borrowed a dress from Lady Éowyn for the occasion, but it hardly mattered to Legolas what you wore. You looked just as beautiful as you did after the battle at Helm’s Deep. His hand lingered at your ear, fingertips only barely brushing against the pointed tip. The sensation prompted you to inhale a shuddering breath, unable to look away from him.

“Shall we promise never to do that again?” You asked, clasping his hands in both of yours, stepping closer to him as you did. The scent of pine and wood enveloped you completely as you drew comfort from simply being in his presence. He gave a small nod of confirmation, his hand cupping the side of your face as he drew you even closer.

“I promise, never to keep a secret from you Y/N, again.” You had been expecting his lips to meet yours. Your eyes had closed, which was why you were a little surprised when he passed your mouth completely. “And here is my final secret.” He finally stopped a mere breath away from your ear as he whispered his final secret, his final undoing. His breath was warm against your skin. His closeness and scent was making your head spin, and yet you had never felt so grounded, so alive before.

A shy yet delighted smile stretched across your features as your body leaned against his completely and you turned your head to whisper your final secret to him as well.

The promise the two of you made that night was sealed with an embrace that was both passionate yet gentle. His lips found yours at the same time yours found his. There was no denying that whatever spark there had been between the two of you only seemed to shine brighter as you kissed. It had always been there, but this would be the first time you were both allowing yourself to explore for the first time.

You pulled back from the kiss, your nose brushing against his for a moment. You opened your eyes to see him looking back at you, and the emotion that lay within urged you to fuse your lips together once more. The first kiss had been soft and gentle, this was anything but.

With a hand at the back of your head, Legolas tilted your head slightly to allow him to better slant his lips against yours. The slight shift had him making the kiss even deeper.

You poured every ounce of love and devotion into the embrace, trying to convey the depth of your feelings to him. Legolas seemed matched your pace perfectly, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands stroking along the length of your back. Your hands were occupied with his hair, before roaming down to his shoulders.

He was the one who pulled back this time, taking satisfaction at your breathlessness the blush across your cheeks. “No more secrets?” He asked, as his thumb ran along the bottom of your lower lip. You shook your head. “No more secrets.”

You pulled him back down, your giggle at his startled expression muffled as your lips met once more.

[moviehealthcommunity]

This pinned post contains every movie we have determined to be safe for photosensitive audiences! This will be updated as new titles enter and leave theaters. This is NOT medical advice. These are just titles to which we have given flashing lights scores of 0 or 1 out of 10.

*=currently in theaters

The 40-Year-Old Virgin 80 for Brady Abominable American Fiction Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret Away From Her A Bad Moms Christmas The Ballad of Buster Scruggs The Beguiled The Big Sick The Bikeriders Billy Madison Book Club: The Next Chapter The Breakfast Club Casablanca Challengers Cheaper by the Dozen (2022) The Christmas Chronicles A Christmas Story Christmas Christopher Robin Cinderella (2015) Clerks Cocaine Bear Coco Coming to America Crazy Rich Asians Crimson Peak Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Cyrano Daddy's Home Daddy's Home 2 Dear Evan Hansen Dirty Dancing Dogma Dolores Claiborne Downhill Downton Abbey Drive My Car Eight Crazy Nights Eileen Elemental Elf Enemy Ever After: A Cinderella Story Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile The Fighting Preacher Five Feet Apart Gladiator Going in Style The Goldfinch Good Will Hunting Green Book The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug The Hurt Locker The Hustle I Don't Know How She Does It The Ice Age Adventures of Buck Wild IF In Bruges Instant Family Interview with the Vampire It Ends with Us* It's a Wonderful Life Jojo Rabbit Kimi Knives Out Last Christmas The Laundromat Little Women (2019) Lizzie Logan Lucky The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring Luca Lying and Stealing Ma Rainey's Black Bottom A Madea Christmas Madea's Family Reunion Madea's Witness Protection Maleficent: Mistress of Evil Mallrats A Man Called Otto The Many Saints of Newark Marriage Story Mary Poppins Returns Mary Queen of Scots Mean Girls (2004) The Menu Miracle of 34th Street (1994) Misery Monty Python's Life of Brian Mrs. Doubtfire The Muppet Christmas Carol Muppet Treasure Island Murder Mystery Next Goal Wins Night at the Museum Office Space On the Basis of Sex Origin Pan's Labyrinth Past Lives The Perfection The Polar Express The Power of the Dog A Prayer Before Dawn Psycho (1960) Psycho (1998) Pulp Fiction The Report The Rhythm Section Rise of the Planet of the Apes Roma The Room Rudy The Santa Clause The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause Sasquatch Sunset Seven Psychopaths The Shallows Shanghai Noon Shaun the Sheep Movie The Shining Shrek the Third Smokey and the Bandit Son In Law Spencer The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) Three Thousand Years of Longing Ticket to Paradise Uncut Gems United 93 West Side Story (1961) The Whale Windfall The Wizard of Oz Women Talking Won't You Be My Neighbor? Worth Zombieland: Double Tap The Zone of Interest

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 18

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc

Words: 6.2k

Summary: You and Merry talk through everything that happened between when he left and the reunion. You express your hurt from being left behind. The road towards Minas Tirith begins.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

---

He was finally in your arms, his breath warming up lips and his forehead resting against yours.

“I– Merry,” you said quietly, trying to catch your breath. “Merry.”

Merry's breath was shaky and uneven, his fingers were still trembling as they brushed softly against your cheek and his other hand was resting on the small of your back. Merry was trying to find the right words to say, but all he could muster up out of his mouth was a faint, shaky whisper of your name.

“I think you two could use some privacy,” suddenly said a high voice familiar to you, snapping both you and Merry out of your bubble.

You and Merry both opened your eyes and looked at Éowyn, who was smiling at you two softly. You gulped and nodded, unable to speak. Merry bowed deeply to Éowyn, an apologetic expression on his face. Éowyn excused herself once more before she left you and Merry alone as you two were still holding each other, but no longer under the spell of a reunion.

“Have you seen him after that?” you asked Merry, who shook his head grimly. 

As far as he knew, Frodo and Sam had left the fellowship at Parth Galen to continue their journey towards Mordor alone. Hearing about all of the struggles Merry, your friends and your brother had gone through broke your heart. The burden you now knew your brother had to carry frightened you.

Merry told of his difficult experience with Pippin, when they were captured by the Uruk-Hai and taken near Isengard. He spoke of it only on a surface level, brushing all of the details under a rug, not wanting to relive the pain.

“Is this where you got that?” you asked, looking at the scar of his forehead. The scar was very visible when it wasn't hidden by his curls. It had not yet healed properly and it seemed like it would leave a mark of his struggles on his skin forever. 

“It is,” he nodded. His eyes were full of trauma and pain as he softly squeezed your hand. “I apologize. I don't… It's hard to talk about.”

“Merry, you don't have to talk about anything you're not ready to discuss,” you comforted, squeezing his hand back. You wanted to give him as much comfort as possible, but there was still a fire inside you fuming at his abandonment back in fall. The anger had sunk away when his lips embraced yours, but now that the magic of that moment was slipping away, the frustration was surfacing back.

Merry was gently brushing against a scar on your arm with his free hand, his thumb tracing the length of the wound.

“What happened?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded quietly, looking down at your feet. “I do not want to burden you more.”

Merry furrowed his brows and put his free hand on your other hand.

“You could never burden me.”

You lifted your gaze and looked at Merry. He was visibly struggling seeing you in so much pain. His soft expression and gentle squeeze of hands made your heart flutter, but the anger of being left behind was swiftly making its way out of your body. You took a deep breath to keep yourself as much together as possible.

“Merry, you left me behind,” you said, gazing into his eyes, the pain returning to your heart and soul. Merry's heart shattered from the wave of guilt that ran over him. “I needed you. All of you. I was completely alone.”

“I'm more sorry than words could ever express,” he responded with no hesitation. His heart felt so heavy he could barely handle it. The only comfort for him was holding you close. “I should have been more forward with you, but we decided it would be the best you did not know.”

“I deserved to know,” you said, squeezing your lips together to hold yourself back from raising your voice.

“I know,” he responded, almost whispering as he tried not to break down and cry from his wrongdoing. “We just wanted to protect you. Especially Frodo and I. I could never forgive myself if my desire to be around you caused you any harm.”

“Well, it has caused me harm, hasn't it?” you snapped. Merry frowned and his apology sank back down his throat. He did not know how to respond; he knew now you had been not only emotionally hurt, but physically too. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. It’s just… I'm overwhelmed and not sure how to feel or what to think.”

“If you need to let out your anger at me, you are more than allowed to do so. You should. I deserve it. I-”

“Merry, please don't.”

“Abandoning you like that… It was one of the worst things I could have done.”

You did not respond. His words were heartfelt and sincere, but he had still broken your heart by leaving you alone. And yet, when you looked into his eyes and saw the desperation, your heart began to melt.

“You were not the only one who made me feel abandoned,” you said finally and Merry turned his eyes back to you, his heartbeat heavy in his chest. You tilted your head as you gazed into his eyes, trying to offer him some sympathy and understanding. “It was not only you. It was Pippin, Sam and Frodo also. It is not fair of me to put all of the blame on you. Especially when I know you did it just to protect me.”

The corners of Merry's eyes got wet as tears of relief rose into his eyes. But guilt was still burdening his whole being.

“Yet, I should not have done it. I'm sorry.”

“I know,” you responded with a faint smile and squeezed his hand.

Merry and you exchanged longing looks and a shy smile tugged in the corner of his lips as he gazed to the side of your face.

“What?” you asked, lifting your eyebrow.

Merry did not respond, but with his free hand he caressed your right ear carefully, his fingers gliding from the pointy tip to your earlobe, his eyes sparkling from adoration. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and the tips of your ears suddenly felt like they were being burnt in the fires of Mount Doom. His touch made you feel like you were in a hazy dream. Your kiss earlier had not felt real as the memory of it was buried under a wave of shock from reuniting, but his soft caressing ignited the memory and deepened the blush on your face. 

You tried to suffocate your nervousness as you glanced at his lips, craving for their embrace on your own, but your fingers started trembling as you realized just how close Merry actually was. 

Merry looked down at your intertwined fingers and brushed your thumb calmingly with his. He turned his eyes back to you, his smile softening into one with more compassion and he leaned in a little closer, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

“Merry?” said a low voice that snapped both of you out of your intimate moment.

The door to your bedroom was open and leaning against the doorframe was a tall man whose hair was up to his shoulders, and his dark clothing was covered in dirt. 

“Yes, Strider?” said Merry in a raspy voice, clearing his throat and his tone slightly frustrated from the interruption. Aragorn smiled fondly at Merry. The way the Hobbit used the name he was introduced as as they first met warmed his heart. 

Aragorn did not notice you at first, but when you peeked from behind Merry, he looked at you with curiosity, before a toothy smile spread on his face as his gaze drifted to you and Merry holding hands.

“I did not expect to meet another halfling on these parts,” he said and smiled at you fondly as he introduced himself. “I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn.”

You stood up, bowed lightly and introduced yourself to him..

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” you continued with a gentle smile. “Merry told me about you just a moment ago.”

“All good I hope,” Aragorn joked. 

“All exceptionally good,” you smiled.

“Éomer wishes to talk with you,” Aragorn said, looking at Merry. Merry gave you a soft, caring look as he stood up. He put his hand on your back and gave you a gentle rub.

“Will you be alright?” Merry asked.

“I'll be alright,” you responded.

“I'll be right back.”

“And I'll be right here,” you said with a gentle smile, your voice almost a whisper.

Merry returned after a half an hour, scratching his head.

“Well?” you asked as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“Everyone, including the King, is riding towards Gondor and Minas Tirith starting tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you responded with a small frown. “I assume we are going to have to stay behind?”

“I'm afraid so,” he responded. “I wish I could ride with them. I am no warrior but I am ashamed to be left behind.”

“Ashamed to be left behind, huh?” you poked at him, making Merry's heart pinch from guilt.

“Oh. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-”

“It's alright. I'm joking. Partly, anyway,” you said with a quiet chuckle. “I'll get over it. It's not like you were trying to kill me, unlike Rath.”

“What?” Merry asked, his expression turning into one that was deeply serious.

“I forgot I didn't tell you,” you said, mouth gaping open. “I'm so sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood!”

“What happened?” Merry asked firmly.

And so you shared every detail, even though earlier you were reluctant about telling Merry anything, for talking about Rath again and again was painful. 

You told Merry how you passed out somewhere in the middle of nowhere and his eyes were dark with guilt. There was a small curl upwards on his lips as you went back in your story and told him of how much deeper in water than ever before you had gone all by yourself. Merry made sure to call you brave as you told him how during the early winter Rath had taught you a little of how to swim.

You talked about your first kill and how it was still eating you inside, even if it was just an Orc. You feared Merry would judge you, but there was only compassion to be found in his eyes.

The injury on your ankle caused Merry to examine and lightly touch your ankle, sending shivers down your spine and drying up your throat.

When you mentioned the white mark of Saruman you saw on Rath’s armor, which he presumably must have not been wearing the morning he was killed, Merry frowned; he realized just how close you had been to him and Pippin, but more importantly how close to a deadly danger you were. 

When you mentioned Rath thinking the brooch Merry had given you for your thirty-third birthday was the One Ring, Merry interrupted you and started digging through his pocket.

“Here,” he said and handed over the brooch he had picked up outside. “I forgot I had it.”

“Why do you have it?” you asked, taking it in your own hands and examining the still dirty jewel. “I left it in hopes it would  be cleaned.”

“Yes, I saw it outside. I recognized it and realized you were here. Though the blood on your dirty clothes made me fear you were here but no longer alive.”

You gave Merry a half-smile and lifted the brooch on your chest level to start pinning it back on your dress, ignoring the dirty state of it.

“Here, let me help you,” Merry said and reached for the brooch. As his fingers brushed against yours you felt your heart begin pounding faster and as his hands neared your heart when he pinned down the daisy, your mouth opened slightly and a quiet, nervous gasp left your lungs.

Merry's other hand went back down but the other he kept on the brooch, softly looking into your eyes as he held his hand near your rapidly beating heart. His blue eyes were sparkling with admiration and yearning as he looked at you, and his heart was aching for you.

Merry swallowed and slowly slid up his hand to the nape of your neck and pulled you closer in a tender motion, bringing his lips only inches away from yours. 

“Is it alright if I kiss you again?” Merry asked in a quiet plea, his nose touching yours as his eyes fixated on your lips. You nodded and he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing softly on yours.

His kiss tasted like the high you were on when the two of you smoked pipe-weed together on the rock rising above the cornfield, and his fingers on your neck made your breathing so heavy you feared you might run out of air. Your right hand climbed from his arm to his shoulder and then to the back of his neck, pulling him into a more firm kiss as you let the mutual pining drive the moment. 

Merry put his other hand on your cheek, and in no time you felt Merry smile into the kiss as his fingers caressed your heated ear. You let go of the back of his neck and moved your hand gently on top of his, caressing the side of your face along with him, before pulling his hand off slowly and breaking the kiss.

“Tell me,” you said quietly. “Why do my ears make you so amused?”

Merry let out a heartfelt chuckle.

“They don't amuse me,” he responded and softly brushed his fingers over both your ears. “They entice me.”

“Why?” you asked, a confused giggle leaving your mouth.

“All of your emotions; your ears expose them.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Merry smiled wider and caressed your cheek, and then your ear again as he looked at you adoringly.

“Well, when you feel flustered, happy… they flutter. It's captivating and rather adorable.”

“What?” you cried and snuck your hands under his and over your ears, blushing from this new revelation. “No they don't!”

Merry put his hands on yours and gently lifted them off, not wanting you to cover your ears.

“Please, don't feel ashamed of it,” he said tenderly, squeezing your hands. “It's one of my favorite things about you.”

“I didn't know! Why didn’t you tell me?

“I did try to tell you once. Remember? I told you you have a tell.”

You let out a small whimper and hid your ears again. Merry snickered.

“They also give away when you feel sad or anxious,” he smirked and you squealed, pressing your palms more firmly on your pointy ears. Merry shook his head and his expression was full of care. He put his hand under your chin, his thumb caressing your skin and he lifted your face ever so slightly. He said nothing, but in his eyes was such fondness and warmth that your hands slipped off your ears and a smile crept back on your face.

You were swinging your feet under the table as your chair was not Hobbit-sized. Merry was sitting next to you, smiling to himself as he put some more food in his body. Théoden King was sitting next to Merry and his presence was making you rather nervous, but having Merry back was pushing the anxiety aside.

It was like the day flashed before your eyes when Merry knelt in front of the King and offered him his services, holding his sword. Your eyes widened and your heart dropped. You knew he would have felt ashamed to be left behind as your friends had gone to battle, but now he was doing it; and without you!

“Rise now, Meriadoc, esquire of Rohan,” said the King, his hands upon Merry's hair, blessing him. “Take your sword and bear it unto good fortune!”

“As a father you shall be to me.”

“For a little while.”

Merry sat back next to you and you looked at him, almost furiously. He didn't look at you as he continued to eat his food.

“I suppose there is no way to keep you out of riding to danger with me?” Merry asked.

“Absolutely not.”

Merry smiled and under the table he wrapped his pinkie around yours.

“I wouldn't have it any other way,” he responded.

Merry was petting the back of the light colored pony, trying to set the saddle on him. The pony's coat was grey and unkempt, and the face of him was friendly.

“Hello, Stybba,” you said in a calm manner, slowly petting the long bridge of the pony's nose. Théoden had assigned the pony to Merry and you, but Stybba seemed to prefer your company over Merry's.

“He seems to like you,” said Aragorn as he passed you and Merry, stopping to pet Stybba. The pony gave Aragorn a soft nudge, painting a gentle smile on the Ranger's face.

“I would hope so,” you responded, caressing the pony. “Riding with him might be a struggle otherwise.”

Aragon chuckled softly.

“Indeed,” he said and turned his face to Merry. “He does like you too, Merry. No need to be disappointed.”

You looked at Merry and noticed a small pout on his face as he struggled to steady the pony. You stepped next to Merry and put your hand on his back for reassurance. Merry blushed and there was a knowing glint in Aragorn's eyes.

“Ride carefully,” said Aragorn and gave the pony one last pat before mounting his own horse. 

Merry sighed from relief as he finally had Stybba at the ready.

“Finally,” he muttered and mounted the pony, swinging his right leg over Stybba. Merry offered you his hand to pull you to sit behind him. He lifted you up with ease and you sank to the saddle right behind Merry, his back pressing against your chest. Your ears fluttered discreetly as you wrapped your arms around him.

You were not wearing body armor unlike Merry, who had been provided with a red protective leather suit of armor with golden details. Over his armor was a rather curious looking cloak, which had been given to him by the Elves in Lothlórien. The cloak provided you with some physical comfort, as otherwise holding Merry over his armor felt a little stiff.

“Are you comfortable?” Merry asked with a gentle tone, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Comfortable enough,” you responded and adjusted yourself more pleasantly.

“You are aware that I am rather anxious because of your lack of armor, right?” Merry asked, his gaze shifting to your body, which lacked any protection from enemies.

“I am,” you said and felt your cheeks flush as his eyes roamed your body. He was just looking after you, but his eyes on your body made you suddenly very aware of yourself and the way you looked. You cleared your throat. “But I'm sure we will figure something out.”

The low rumble of the Horn of the Mark rang through the air and in a matter of seconds you were surrounded by hoofs striking the ground. Somewhere in the distance Éomer had given words of encouragement for the Rohirrim, but he was too far for the speech to reach your ears.

After a painful amount of minutes Merry finally got Stybba to move forward, but it did not take long for most of the riders to gallop past you as the pony was rather slow.

The bread was not much, but your stomach felt pitless and at that moment you felt like you could eat a pile of it the size of a horse.

“Are you feeling any better?” Merry asked. You looked down at your hands which were still shaking from your low blood sugar. 

“Slightly,” you responded and ate another piece of bread.

Merry smiled and shuffled next to you as you two were sitting inside the tent.

“You can have some of mine,” he said and offered you a sizable piece of his own food. You shook your head vigorously. 

“Absolutely not!” you cried and pushed his hand back. “You need to eat more.”

“Alright, alright!” Merry responded and put his hands up in surrender.

You and Merry sat there eating in silence and stealing shy glances. Merry’s hair was messy and under his eyelids were dark circles from the lack of proper sleep. His feet were covered in dirt and his shoulders looked more broad than ever under the leather armor.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked Merry.

“Of course,” he said and gave you an encouraging smile.

“Why are you suddenly so tall?”

Merry erupted in laughter and you snickered, but there still was a curious and puzzled expression on your face.

“Éowyn?” you asked, peeking into her tent.

“Yes?” she answered with a smile on her face. “Come in.”

“I have something I would like to talk about,” you said and entered, making sure you spoke quietly enough no other soldier could hear, as it was a sensitive subject.

“Seems quite serious,” she said and patted the seat next to her, gesturing to you to sit down. “You seem troubled. And quiet.”

You sighed and sat down next to her, pondering how to pick the right words.

“I do not believe I will be allowed to go to battle,” you frowned. “And I very much want to. I need to.”

Éowyn took your hand and with her hand she caressed it.

“Why would you be refused?”

“Well, I am quite small. Even for a Hobbit. I have no armor or a weapon. Nor am I a man.”

Éowyn analyzed your expression, compassion and understanding in her eyes as she looked at you. She stood up and nodded outside.

“Come,” she said.

“Where?” 

“Just come,” she said and walked out of the tent. 

You followed her and past a few soldiers was another tent, filled with spears and swords. You walked to the weapons and traced your fingers on the edge of a smaller sword, pouting as you touched it.

“I think this is the only one suitable for me,” you said. “And it's not even sharp.”

Éowyn walked to you and picked up the sword, examining it and giving it a swing. The movement caused a quiet schwing and she handed you the sword. Your arms dropped down slightly from the weight of it, but you gathered your posture and looked at Éowyn with a concerned face.

“I do not know if I can handle this,” you said with a sullen look on your face. Éowyn let out a compassionate chuckle.

“You only need it to protect yourself. I can teach you. Now, go see the blacksmiths and get it sharpened.”

“But-”

“To the smithy! Go!” she chuckled and gently pushed you outside. You smiled and swiftly moved towards the tent of the blacksmiths. You did not notice you passed Merry, who was sitting by a fire talking to fellow soldiers. He looked at you as you hastened past him. Merry followed your every step with his gaze, his heart swelling with admiration for your determined attitude.

Darkness had filled the tent you and Merry were staying in. The stars outside were veiled as darkness started to set over Middle-Earth and your anxiety grew. Merry told you of Aragorn and some others leaving for the Paths of the Dead.

“That sounds horrifying,” you said. You were many feet away from Merry, itching to lay near him.

“From how much Théoden King has told me, I get shivers just thinking about it. Poor Aragorn. Poor Gimli. And poor Legolas!”

“Now, I'm curious,” you said and turned on your side, propping yourself on your elbow, ready to direct Merry’s thoughts elsewhere from the approaching dangers. “How has it been fighting aside an Elf?”

“No curiosity for the Dwarf?” Merry smirked. “Is it the looks? I cannot blame you. Legolas is rather ethereal.”

You giggled.

“I have missed your banter,” you whispered and Merry's heart skipped a beat.

“I have missed you.”

Early next morning you were woken up by Merry poking your side.

“It is time for us to go,” he said as you rubbed your eyes with your fists.

“Alright,” you answered groggily and Merry pulled you up from the ground. You stretched and put on the small chainmail Éowyn had provided you with after you got your newly claimed sword sharpened. The chainmail clinked and your posture shrank from the weight of it, making you sway as your balance weakened. Merry steadied you with his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you sure of this?” he asked, hoping you would stay behind out of battle and danger.

“Of course I am,” you answered and stood up as straight as you could. “This will just take some time to get used to. I want to fight.”

Merry nodded and you followed him out of the tent where Stybba was waiting for the two of you.

Around you were many men mounting their horses and adjusting their armor. There was sizzling of the campfires being put out and many horses were already on the move. Everything was hectic and the atmosphere was pressuring, making your heart race. Many men had grey faces and frowns on them, some visibly afraid. 

Through them towards you and Merry rode King Théoden, a serious expression on his face as he looked at the two of you. His royal appearing horse came to a halt next to Stybba.

“Little Hobbits do not belong in war, Master Meriadoc,” said Théoden, looking at both you and Merry. Merry’s heart sank. “As my last command you shall keep her safe and out of danger. Now, I release you from my service.”

“All our friends have gone to battle!” Merry cried. “We would very much feel ashamed to be left behind. I want to fight.”

“It is a three day gallop to Minas Tirith and none of my men can bear you two as a burden. Stybba cannot keep up with the pace of the horses of my men. We cannot slow down under any circumstances.”

“But-,” stuttered Merry. “Can you not, like, tie us on the horses or something?”

You gave Merry a raised eyebrow, slightly amused.

“I will say no more,” said Théoden and gave his horse a small kick with his foot to get him moving. 

Merry gave you a defeated look.

“I… I cannot believe this. Pippin, Frodo and Sam have all gone to fight. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli too. And we are left behind!” 

Merry’s disappointment grew and he paced back and forth, almost furiously.

“Merry-,” you tried to interrupt, but Merry kept going.

“I'm ready to run all the way to Minas Tirith if necessary!” Merry cried. “Stybba is slower than many of the horses, but-”

“Merry,” you said, hand on his shoulder and he finally started to calm down. “We are going.”

“We have been ordered to stay behind,” he pouted. You gave him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

“But we will not stay behind. Come.”

You led Merry through the galloping Rohirrim and into a large tent, where a tall, slender soldier was adjusting his helmet.

“Why are we here?” asked Merry and the rider turned to look at Merry.

“You shall ride with me,” he said and walked outside with you two. Merry looked at you, confused and you smiled knowingly. “I shall hide you two under my cloak the best I can. Come on.”

“Thank you, sir,” Merry said and walked fast behind the young soldier. He turned to you and whispered: “Who is this and what have you planned?”

“Dernhelm promised to take us with her- him. We shall ride to Minas Tirith. We are going to fight.”

A smile so wide you had never seen spread across Merry's face and he started trembling from excitement. 

You two mounted the large horse and sat in front of Dernhelm, Merry in the front and you in the middle. You gave Dernhelm a knowing look and got a nod in response.

You held your arms around Merry’s waist tightly as the two of you were bouncing slightly on the galloping horse, fearing you might drop off any time. Dernhelm held onto you with one arm, every now and then brushing his thumb on your arm to give you some more comfort. The two of you had an agreement you would not tell Merry of Dernhelms's true identity. Neither of you wanted to risk getting caught by Éomer or Théoden. 

And so the three of you started to ride towards Minas Tirith.

The ride was long and exhausting. Your head kept falling against Merry’s back as you fell asleep repeatedly. It did not bother Merry; he in fact preferred to have you so comfortable and close to him.

The mountains were mighty and tall, every day looking more threatening as the darkness over Middle-Earth kept spreading. You woke up to the loud neighing of horses, your left cheek pressing against Merry’s back, his armor creating a swirly pattern on your cheek. You lifted your head and noticed night had come. The lack of stars made the surroundings feel more threatening and you kept clinging to Merry until he nudged you as a sign to hop off the horse.

You lowered yourself down carefully with the assistance of Merry. He held you by your waist and steadily put you on the ground despite his own exhaustion and inability to fall asleep while riding. Even as your feet were touching the grass, Merry kept his hands on your waist and turned you around. He looked down at you and brushed off some stray curls off your face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, holding his other hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist, making you feel rather shy.

“I’m alright,” you said, yawning. “I slept like a log.”

“That I can see,” he said and smirked as he caressed your cheek. “Your cheek looks like it was made from the same material as my armor.”

You tested your cheek with the tips of your fingers, feeling the swirling pattern deeply burrowed into your skin.

“It appears so. I hope I didn’t snore.”

“You did not. You just flinched any time I moved but immediately smacked your lips loudly and fell back to deep sleep.”

“Oh,” you said and blushed at his teasing words. Merry scrunched his nose at you and guided you towards a more isolated spot around the camp that was being set up.

You plopped down on the ground, watching as Dernhelm was settling down the horse. Most of the riders were setting down the camp and some were distributing food. You leaned against a large rock with Merry whose arm was still around your waist. He lowered his head down on your shoulder and shut his eyes, immediately drifting off to a peaceful slumber. You looked at Merry’s face and thought of how much closer you wanted to be to him, even though you were sitting your sides squeezing together. You pressed your cheek on his head, looking around the camp and viewing everything that was happening with increasing curiosity. 

Merry snored lightly, your urge to tease him when he woke up rising. The urge to tease him about his loud snoring sank away as quickly as it arrived when Merry began muttering your name and smiling in his sleep, while wrapping his other arm over your stomach. Your ears turned pink and the tips of them flapped like wings for a little while, although you did not notice it.

“I can’t feel my arm,” Merry mumbled.

“Huh?”

“I cannot feel my arm,” Merry repeated, his voice groggy and you noticed his arm had been resting between you and the rock for a while now.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” you responded and leaned forward, releasing his arm from captivity.

“It’s alright,” he said, voice low and his tiredness obvious. Half asleep he tightened his grip on you as he was still holding his other arm over your stomach. Your heart fluttered and you wrapped your own arms around him, pulling him closer.

“Rest as much as you can,” you whispered and lowered your chin on the top of his head as he cradled into your arms.

“Mhm,” he mumbled. “I can’t wait to have eating contests with you when we get home.”

You snorted. His sudden confession amused you but your heart sank a little, as your hope in returning home had almost completely disappeared. You let out a deep sigh and caressed his back.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I can’t wait.”

“Much love,” he whispered, confused and croggy as he fell asleep. You held back laughter at his tired, seemingly random words and allowed yourself to doze off as well.

You slowly moved Merry from on top of you. He stirred in his sleep and let out a disapproving grunt before getting into a comfortable position and resuming his dreams. You stood up and stretched your limbs before making your way to Dernhelm, who was like you and Merry sitting isolated from everyone.

“Éowyn?” you asked quietly and Dernhelm took off his helmet, revealing the long golden hair of the Shieldmaiden of Rohan in disguise.

“Yes?” she responded and ruffled her hair.

“May I sit with you for a while?”

“Of course,” she said and you sat down beside her on the grass. Éowyn put her hands under her long hair and waved them around, trying to cool down her neck and head. “I think this is the most my head has ever sweated. This helmet is rather uncomfortable.”

“I do not feel jealous of that,” you snickered and Éowyn offered you some water from her bottle. You drank just the tiniest bit before trying to hand it back to her, only for her to refuse and force you to hydrate more.

“You need to keep yourself in good shape,” she said. “That includes being hydrated and fed.”

“Alright mother,” you smirked and she laughed, her high voice ringing in the air. A few heads of men turned from afar and Éowyn quickly put her helmet back on, returning to her disguise as a slender male warrior. You looked at her with a compassionate smile. “I really appreciate you doing this with me and Merry.”

“I know how it feels,” she said. “Not being allowed to battle. My uncle and brother refused me, but I know my heart belongs here. I want to protect my people.”

“You impress me, Éowyn,” you said and she raised a brow. “I look up to you. You’re like a sister to me.”

“And you to me,” she said and leaned in to give you a warm hug. You pulled her close tightly, embracing her like your life depended on it. She pulled back and looked at you, tilting her head with worry. “Are you alright?”

You did not respond immediately. It was hard for you to admit; fear that is. Every step the horse galloped and every breath you took, the closer you were to war and the fear inside you rapidly increased.

“The truth is I’m afraid,” you confessed. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but a part of me really wishes I stayed at home. I am more than honored to fight alongside you, Merry and everyone else, but I do miss the safety and comfort of my own bed.”

“It is only natural,” Éowyn comforted. “But you have a lot of strength and courage in you. You just have to keep embracing it and not fall back at the edge of the danger.”

“Merry is so brave. I feel embarrassed that his fear is not faltering and my heart is filled with slowly approaching terror.”

“I do not know if in reality this is any consolation, but may I offer you some words of comfort?”

“Please.”

“I believe in both you and Merry. I think you have more courage than you are aware of.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, slightly taken aback by how much faith Éowyn put in you and Merry. After all, you had begun to feel like you were just a little Hobbit who had wandered into the wrong place, but her words made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

The Horn of Rohan rang and Théoden ordered everyone to keep moving in an instant. There was at least a day more of travel ahead and the road had to be traveled as hastily as possible.

Merry snapped out of his dream and his first instinct was to look for you. His gaze traveled around but he could not see you and he started to fear you had somehow managed to get hurt.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” you said behind Merry, startling him. He put his hand over his heart, trying to slow his heartbeat before pulling you into a tight embrace. You wrapped your arms around him and asked: “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is alright,” he smiled and pulled away from the hug. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

You smiled fondly and shook the nervous tension out of your body, pressing your lips against his cheek as you got on your tiptoes to reach him.

“Let’s go then,” you said and Merry followed you to the horse with a wide smile on his face. Éowyn, disguised as Dernhelm lifted you two on the horse, resuming the road to Minas Tirith and towards war.

NEXT CHAPTER

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@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23 @mayo-advance @datglutengoblin @mournthewicked @channiesbedbug

[letters-from-dekarios]

(A letter arrives by way of a Quickling, a tiny fey creature commonly used as messengers in the Feywild)

My darling husband, my guiding wind, first in my heart,

If you ever leave me to deal with my family alone again I will lock you out of your library for a month!

I understand midterms at the academy are nearly upon us but I am certain your assistant could manage long enough for you to join me at this reunion so that I am not left to suffer my mother's attentions alone.

Speaking of, I have included the recipe you wished to ask from her, and I will bring some of the more exotic ingredients home with me when I return.

Further, your absence has utterly devastated Mallory, who has been demanding her "Uncle Gale" no less than 6 times a day. How utterly cruel of you. She has very much wanted to show you her new magic trick, which I assure you is very adorable. No spiders involved this time.

To say nothing of how deeply I miss you, my love. I shall be returning soon, while it has been good to catch up with my brothers and feel the magic of my birthplace, none compares to the magic of our home together.

All my love, Bel'tan'e

P.S., Callista said you asked her for Dawnsea flowers, did you need spell-grade or food-grade petals?

(Bel'tan'e (he/they) is a spring Eladrin druid, born and raised in the Feywild, and currently married to one Professor Dekarios. They have a large family of relatively high status in the Spring Seelie Court, though Bel'tan'e himself is 3rd born and has little influence of their own (not that they want it). The couple regularly travels to the Feywild to see Bel'tan'e's family, who were quite shocked he returned with a human husband after only a few months away from home, but they grew to love Gale eventually, even if he is very odd and human-like)

(did I do this right? First time submission 🫣)

My love, Bel,

Sweetness, you know how much I adore your odd but ever caring family. I wouldn’t miss the journey for the world. Or, perhaps, a good box of chocolates. Kidding! I swear. I am mourning the loss of my visitation with you, thinking of the extravagant time I could be having while instead, I am pouring over my papers.

I do beg of you to not lock me out of my library. I simply would not be able to fare! I may pass away even at the mere thought.

Alas, I truly wish I could be with you. Though, I hope my words bring you comfort and warmth as if I were there beside you. They will have to do, for now. And while I do trust my assistant very much so, these are things one must handle on their own. This time of year at the academy is far from easy, it is best I oversee the work so as to avoid any mistakes. Nonetheless, I do deeply wish to be with you, don’t forget that.

Send my warmest, deepest affection to your mother back. That kindly woman deserves only the best and I will have something soon to show her my thanks, I promise. The same goes for Mallory and all the little ones calling for me. I do owe them a night within the Weave’s embrace once we can journey there together. No doubt that should suffice as an apology for missing this visit. Do tell little Mallory how proud I am of her. Thank the heavens she’s getting better with that, I nearly died the last time she summoned a spider. I still get shivers even thinking about it.

I have found myself rambling! I must save these words for when you return, otherwise this letter may become too thick to send back. Know that I love you deeply, and cannot wait for your return home. I shall have my best apologies lined up for you since you’ve had to endure such joyous fellowship alone.

Forever yours,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

text reads: gale dekarios

literally shut up. ‘uncle gale’???? im sobbing and losing my mind over this. i can literally see gale showing up for the first time to meet their family and just ‘hello! i’m gale!’ Exactly how he says it when you first meet him in act 1. and then all the nephews and nieces hanging onto his arms and asking him about being a human and then him showing them the weave… i need to write dad gale now cause this is TOO cute. also you did perfect im obsessed if you can’t tell ~kore