#middle earth reader insert

[doodle-pops]

Foreign Hearts

Gil Galad x modern human!reader

A/N: At last, the final piece for the event of this year is out! I wanted to go out with a bang but I didn’t expect to write so much (ノ_･､). Enjoy!

Warnings:modern human reader, fluff, humour, modern reader in Middle Earth, relationship talk

Words: 3.7k

Synopsis: Reflecting on the secrecy of the love you’ve shared with the High King, turned into another romantic and heartwarming moment between you two.

The sun had just begun its slow descent, casting a golden hue over the serene landscape of Rivendell. The air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves. The melody of a distant waterfall filled the air, mingling with the song of birds that flitted through the trees. Rivendell was a place of peace, of beauty that seemed untouched by time, and it had become your sanctuary since that fateful day when you had mysteriously appeared in the forests nearby.

It had been months since you found yourself in Middle-earth, a place you had only known from the pages of books and the whispers of legends. One moment, you had been living your life in the modern world, surrounded by the familiar hum of technology and the bustle of city life; the next, you were wandering through a forest that seemed to belong to another time, another world entirely.

The elves who had found you, clad in their silver and green, had been as shocked by your appearance as you were by theirs. You were an anomaly, a puzzle they couldn’t quite piece together. Lord Elrond, the wise and kind ruler of Rivendell, had taken you in, offering you shelter and care as you adjusted to this strange new reality.

Living in Rivendell was like stepping into a dream—everything was so ethereal, so perfect, that you often had to pinch yourself to make sure it was real. Yet, despite the beauty around you, it was hard not to feel out of place. The elves, with their flowing robes, graceful movements, and ancient wisdom, seemed like beings from a different world altogether. Your modern speech, your casual mannerisms, even your sense of humour—things that had been perfectly normal back home—stood out starkly against the elegance of elven customs.

There were times when you caught the elves watching you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, their ageless faces betraying their thoughts more than they likely realised. You had tried, at first, to conform to their ways, to adopt their formal speech and graceful etiquette. But it was exhausting to maintain, and eventually, you had accepted that you were simply different. You were a visitor in their world, and while you respected their ways, you couldn’t entirely change who you were.

It was during one of these quiet, introspective days that you first met Gil-galad.

The High King of the Noldor had arrived in Rivendell on a visit to consult with his Herald, Lord Elrond. You had heard of him in passing—the Elven king who ruled over Lindon, a figure of great authority and wisdom. But you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming that someone of his stature would have little reason to notice someone like you.

You were wrong.

The meeting had been as unexpected as everything else in Middle-earth. You had been wandering through one of the many gardens of Rivendell, lost in thought, when you nearly collided with someone. Looking up, you found yourself staring into the most striking pair of blue eyes you had ever seen. He was tall—taller than any of the other elves you had met—his presence commanding and regal, yet there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.

“Forgive me,” he had said, his voice smooth and deep, though the amused glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t at all displeased by the encounter.

You had stammered out an apology, feeling flustered and out of place in front of someone so imposing. But the King had only smiled, intrigued by your manner of speech—so different from the formal, melodic tones of the elves. His curiosity was piqued, and instead of continuing on his way, he had engaged you in conversation.

At first, you had been nervous, unsure of how to speak to someone of such high status. But as the conversation flowed, you found yourself relaxing. Gil-galad was different from what you had expected. He was charming and kind, with a sharp wit that matched your own. He seemed genuinely interested in your world, in your experiences, and you found yourself laughing and talking more freely than you had since you arrived in Middle-earth.

Over the course of his stay in Rivendell, you and the High King crossed paths often. Each encounter left you feeling a strange mixture of excitement and confusion. He was a King, after all, and you were… well, you weren’t even sure what you were anymore. Yet, there was no denying the connection that had begun to form between you. It was as though he saw past the strangeness of your situation and was drawn to the very things that made you different.

It was during one of these visits that he had gifted you the music box. A small, intricately carved thing made of mahogany, it played a melody that was hauntingly beautiful. You had been surprised, touched by the gesture, and from that moment on, the music box had become one of your most treasured possessions.

Now, as you sat on the stone bench in one of Rivendell’s many gardens, you found yourself once again lost in thought, the music box cradled in your hands. You had come here to find some peace, to escape the swirling thoughts and emotions that had been troubling you ever since your feelings for Gil-galad began to deepen.

The gardens were quiet, the air cool and filled with the scent of blooming flowers. The sun was low in the sky, casting a soft, golden light over everything. It was a perfect evening, the kind that made you forget, if only for a moment, that you were far from home.

“Does it not trouble you?”

The familiar, smooth voice pulled you from your reverie, and you looked up to see Gil-galad approaching, his expression curious and gentle. He was dressed in his usual attire—garments of silver and royal blue, the colors of his house—his presence as commanding as ever. He sat down beside you on the bench, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, but not so close as to make you uncomfortable.

You blinked, trying to shake off the fog of your thoughts as you focused on him. But your gaze was drawn to his lips, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of anything else. His lips, curved into that familiar teasing smile, held your attention, and your thoughts muddled together into a jumble of emotions.

He noticed your gaze and, with a smirk, leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement. “Is there something on my face, or rather, my lips, my love?” he teased, drawing out the moment, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you quickly looked away, focusing intently on the music box in your hands. Your fingers traced the delicate carvings, desperate for something to distract you from the fluttering in your chest. “Your teasing is going to get you into trouble one day, My King,” you muttered, your voice a mix of shyness and annoyance—though the latter was directed more at yourself than at him.

Gil-galad’s expression softened as he leaned back slightly, giving you a bit more space. “How many times must I remind you? You may call me Ereinion,” he said gently, though there was a hint of playful reproach in his tone.

You kept your eyes on the music box, refusing to look up and meet his gaze. “Once more…I suppose,” you replied quietly.

Silence settled between you as he continued to watch you, his eyes tracing the movements of your hands and the way you muttered softly to yourself in a language he couldn’t fully understand. Your mother tongue, ancient and melodic, was a lexicon from a world and age far removed from his own. Yet, despite the differences, he found comfort in these moments, in simply observing you in your element, even when the words escaped him.

“You are unhappy, are you not?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with an undertone of certainty.

A smile tugged at your lips, as though his statement amused you, and for a brief moment, a crackle of energy filled the air, as if the very atmosphere responded to your unspoken thoughts. Setting the music box aside, you turned to face him, giving him the full weight of your attention. “Why would you come to such a conclusion, or rather, how?” you asked, disbelief coloring your tone. “I don’t recall ever giving the impression that I was.”

His expression softened, though there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes. “You do not address me by my name as lovers do,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that pained you to hear. “It is almost as if you were embarrassed or uninterested in being with me. Is it because of our secrecy?”

And as the question hung in the air between you, you realised that this was a moment of truth, a moment when the feelings you had been trying to ignore could no longer be denied.

The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against your chest like a heavy stone. Gil-galad’s expression, so often the picture of composed regality, was softened by the sadness in his eyes, a sadness that you had never intended to cause. But the truth, like the stone in your chest, was complicated and unyielding.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand, warm and comforting as always. “Ereinion,” you began, the use of his name deliberate, a balm for the hurt you had unknowingly inflicted. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed or uninterested in being with you. Far from it.”

He turned his hand over to grasp yours, his thumb gently tracing circles on your palm. The simple gesture was comforting, grounding you in the moment as you searched for the right words. Words that would explain what you felt without causing him more pain.

“You have to understand,” you continued, your voice soft but steady, “I’m a human, Ereinion. A mortal. And that means…well, it means that I’m different from the people you’ve ruled and loved for centuries. I’ve seen how some of the elves speak about humans—like we’re nothing more than a fleeting thought in their minds. I know that not all of them feel that way, but enough do that it will make our relationship…complicated.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt, simply listening as you voiced the thoughts you had kept buried for so long.

“You’re their High King, their leader, and their symbol of everything that is strong and eternal about the Eldar. And if they knew that you had chosen a human, someone who will live for only a blink of an eye compared to their long lives, to stand by your side…” You trailed off, shaking your head slightly. “I don’t think they would accept it. Not easily, anyway.”

He started to speak, but you held up your hand, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked at him, your heart swelling with affection. “It’s not just that, Ereinion. It’s also…well, I’m happy with things the way they are. Keeping our relationship a secret, it means I don’t have to deal with the expectations and judgments that would come if I were known as your chosen one. It’s a relief, honestly.”

You shifted slightly on the bench, feeling the smooth, cool wood beneath you as you gathered your thoughts. “When I first arrived in Middle-earth—when I was suddenly…here—I was lost. Confused. I didn’t understand your world or its customs. And despite the kindness I’ve been shown, especially by Lord Elrond, I still struggle with it. I’m not like the others. My behaviour, my speech, even the way I think, it’s all…different. I’ve spent over a year in Rivendell, learning and adapting as best I can, but there are times when I still feel like an outsider, like I don’t quite belong.”

The grip he held on your hand tightened slightly, a silent reassurance that he was there, that he understood. His eyes, so often filled with the weight of his responsibilities, now held only concern for you, his secret love.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty,” you added quickly, seeing the flicker of guilt cross his features. “In fact, it’s the opposite. I’m grateful that we can keep our relationship private. It means I don’t have to deal with the pressure of being a ruler, of trying to prove my worth to people who might never accept me. I’ve heard how some of the elves speak of humans—how we’re seen as lesser, as irrelevant. I’ve witnessed the way they look down on us, dismiss us.”

You paused, meeting his gaze with a steady look. “There’s no way they would accept me as their leader. And that’s okay. I don’t need them to. I’m happy with my freedom, with not having to live up to impossible expectations or navigate the treacherous waters of court politics and finding myself crying in a corner every day of the week, anxiously. I’m content being your secret lover, someone who can love you without the weight of a crown on my head.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, making his expression softened further, the sadness giving way to a deep, abiding affection. “You are remarkable,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a kind of awe that made your heart skip a beat. “To find contentment in such circumstances…it’s not something many could do.”

You chuckled softly, the sound breaking the tension that had built between you. “Well, I’ve always been one to adapt, but not this time. Maybe if it was another human instead of me, they might enjoy the idea of being a royal more than the problems it bring,” you teased lightly. “Besides, I’ve never been one for grand titles or public adoration. I prefer the quiet moments, like this one, where I can just be myself with you.”

He nodded, a small, grateful smile crossing his lips. “It’s those quiet moments that I cherish most as well,” he admitted. “In all my years, with all the burdens of leadership, it’s rare to find someone who sees me not as the High King, but as Ereinion—just an elf who loves and is loved in return.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “And that’s exactly how I see you,” you said softly. “I fell in love with you, not for your title or your power, but for who you are—the elf who listens to my ramblings, who teases me when I’m being too serious, who finds joy in the small things.”

The weight of your conversation still hung in the air, but with it came a sense of relief—a feeling that you had finally voiced the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind for so long. Gil-galad’s expression had softened, his eyes still holding that deep affection, but now there was an understanding between you that hadn’t existed before.

You broke the silence first, a small smile playing on your lips as you leaned back on the bench, your fingers still intertwined with his. “You know,” you began, your tone lightening, “I never imagined when I first ended up in Middle-earth that I’d be sitting here with the High King of the Elves, having a heart-to-heart in a secret garden.”

He chuckled softly, the sound a deep, warm rumble that you felt as much as heard. “And I never imagined that I’d fall in love with a human from a world I’ve never even heard of,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “But life has a way of surprising us, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, a laugh escaping your lips as you thought back to the strange journey that had brought you here. “That’s an understatement. I mean, one day I’m sitting in my apartment, minding my own business, and the next thing I know, I’m in Rivendell, surrounded by elves and trying to figure out how not to embarrass myself with every other word I say.”

Gil-galad’s smile widened, and he leaned back beside you, the tension between you dissipating like morning mist. “I remember the first time I heard you speak,” he mused, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You were trying to explain the concept of a ‘microwave’ to Elrond, and he looked as though he was trying to decipher an ancient riddle.”

You groaned, your cheeks heating at the memory. “Oh, don’t remind me. I must have sounded like a complete lunatic. I’m still not sure he believes that microwaves aren’t some kind of magic.”

“Well,” Gil-galad said, his tone mock-serious, “you have to admit, it does sound rather magical. A box that cooks food in mere moments? Even I have trouble wrapping my head around it.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep the grin off your face. “It’s just science,” you replied with a playful nudge. “But then again, in a world where magic is real, I suppose science might seem a little…mystical.”

He chuckled again, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “That’s one of the things I love about you,” he said, his voice warm. “You bring a perspective that’s entirely different from anything I’ve known. You see the world in a way that none of us do, and it’s…refreshing.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So what you’re saying is, you fell for me because I’m weird?”

He laughed, the sound full and genuine, and you couldn’t help but join in. “Well, if by ‘weird,’ you mean unique, then yes,” he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And besides, I think you’re the only person who can make me laugh like this.”

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Oh, so I’m your court jester now? Should I start juggling or learn to ride a unicycle?”

Shaking his head, his laughter fading into a soft smile. “No, you’re much more than that. But if you do learn to juggle, I’m sure we could arrange a performance at the next feast.”

You playfully swatted his arm, your heart feeling lighter with each moment you spent in his company. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Only with you, my love.”

The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you felt your resolve to keep things light slipping away under the intensity of his gaze. But before you could lose yourself in the moment, you caught yourself and leaned back, a smirk on your lips as you tried to regain the upper hand.

“You know,” you said, your tone teasing, “if this is your way of convincing me to move in with you, you’re going to have to try harder. I’ve grown rather fond of my little room in Rivendell, and I’m not sure I’m ready to give up my bach pad just yet.”

His brow raised and lips quirking into a smile. “Oh? And what would it take to tempt you away from your ‘bach pad,’ as you call it? A private suite in the palace? Endless bouquets of flowers delivered daily? A personal chef to prepare all your meals?”

You pretended to consider his offer, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, those are all tempting…but I’m not sure. I mean, who’s going to teach Elrond about the wonders of modern technology if I’m not around?”

He laughed again, a deep, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter. “You make a good point. I’m not sure he’s ready to tackle the mysteries of the ‘microwave’ on his own.”

“I don’t think he’s even ready for to learn about the internet or the blender. However, he did take learning the TV, fairly,” you laughed.

“When you do, inform me for I would be interested in witnessing his utter confusion,” he replied with equal merriment.

You grinned, pleased with your little victory, but before you could bask in it for too long, Gil-galad leaned in once more, his expression suddenly serious. “But in all seriousness,” he said, his voice gentle, “I want you to know that wherever you are, that’s where I want to be. Whether it’s in Rivendell, here in my palace, or anywhere else…as long as we’re together, I’ll be happy.”

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for what to say. You had always known that he cared for you deeply, but hearing it spoken aloud, in such a simple, heartfelt way, made your chest tighten with emotion.

After a beat, you managed a smile, though it was softer now, more vulnerable. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “And as much as I joke about it…I know that wherever you are, I’ll always feel at home.”

His hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Then that’s all I need,” he said quietly.

The moment stretched out between you, filled with a warmth and understanding that words couldn’t fully capture. It was in the way he looked at you, the way his hand fit perfectly around yours, the way the world seemed to fall away when you were together. Here, in that garden, under the stars of a world you never expected to call home, you found something you never knew you were searching for.

But even as you basked in the comfort of the moment, a flicker of mischief returned to your eyes. “But just so you know,” you added with a grin, “if you ever try to get me to wear one of those elaborate court attires, we might have a problem.”

Launching into another round of laughter, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night, he shook his head. “Noted,” he said, his eyes shining with affection. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But I have to say, I think you’d look stunning.”

You wrinkled your nose playfully. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Majesty. I prefer my sweatpants and t-shirts, thank you very much.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. “And that’s exactly how I like you,” he murmured, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart grown warmer.

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[the-really-lonely-mountain]

Along for the ride, to Erebor - Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the second part for the second movie.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too graphic but i certianly wouldn't want to be caught reading it, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it, tags tbd tbh lol

Word Count: 4,758

A/N: OMG!! I graduated! I got a job! I finally edited this part! I'm so tired y'all, I'm writing this author note at like midnight lol. ~AnywhoOOo~ I hope you enjoy! let me know if you'd like to join the tag list to be directly notified of chapter updates! <3

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

You woke to the usual clanging of pots and pans as breakfast was being cooked. Kili’s hand was still on your waist and his arm was still your pillow, though you were sure it’d gone numb in the night. You gently placed your hand on his cheek and gently ran your thumb over his delicate cheek bone. He looked so handsome sleeping softly beside you, it made you smile like a giddy little girl. You regretted having to softly remove yourself from him, but you had to start packing your things and getting ready for the day, which was so much easier now that you didn’t have to worry about your hair. When you were finished and your bag was neatly packed, you tenderly woke Kili up.

He stretched then his eyes popped open, “Good morning!”, he sat up energized and ready to conquer the day.

“Good morning!” You replied with a kind smile, ever impressed by his liveliness in the mornings, “Start packing, Bombur’s almost finished breakfast.”

He shuffled about beside you while you worked on the final half of your bracelet, waiting for breakfast.

The porridge was the usual white sludge meant for nutrients, not flavor. You rinsed the dishes in the river with Kili’s animated storytelling as you usually did after meals. Thorin had the company moving out when you returned.

The day’s walk was very scenic, mostly idyllic forests with little rivers, where the lighting truly brought it all together. You walked between Kili and Fili so they could give you the basic run-down of sword handling and bowmanship.

By the end of midday, the company was on the border of the forest and a field. Thorin decided to make camp there and told Gloin to make the fire while Nori, Bifur, and Oin set traps in the forest to restock the reserves or something, you weren’t listening, too focused on Kili’s hand in yours as he led you somewhere.

The extra sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes told you he was very excited to teach you about archery. As the resident Archer, no one (his brother) could compete for your attention by correcting him. He was also excited to watch you use his bow and his arrows; an honor bestowed upon an extremely select group.

Kili was very protective of his bows, not just because of the time it takes to make such an incredibly valuable weapon, but because one time in his youth he worked for weeks carving a brand-new bow from solid wood, making the string by hand, and engraving runic talismans into the handle. He worked very hard on that bow; Only to have one of his snot-nosed neighbors snatch it from him while they were playing and accidentally snap it in half after a misstep. Kili was furious, absolutely inconsolable. Fili had to drag him from the scene of the crime to the forest behind their family house, so he didn’t hunt the kid down and destroy him. He didn’t say anything to Fili, just cursed and milled about the clearing in frustration. At first, his brother didn’t know what he was doing, concerned he was setting a malicious trap for the offending child (such a spiteful trap was almost sprung after another incident of the same nature); but as Fili silently watched, out of arm’s punching reach of course, he realized his brother was just looking for a piece of wood to make a new bow. Fili built a fire to keep the chill of the setting sun at bay, not wanting to abandon his brother to the coming night. He watched the younger mumble curses in dwarfish as he whittled the wood seemingly in his own little world. Kili hadn’t really taken notice of the fire his brother built despite using its light and occasionally throwing more wood on absentmindedly while he stayed up all night to make the string and engrave the handle. Their mother, Dis, saw them through the window in the back door in the middle of the night. Fili was sitting on the ground, relaxed, leaning against a tree while he watched his brother on the other side of the blazing fire, Kili was sitting on a rock hunched over his bow as it came together. Dis knew from that moment Fili would always look after his little brother, or at the very least try his best. The craftsmanship of the bow he made that night was nowhere near his previous bow, but it could still shoot the straightest arrow in the village. It would do till he grew again and needed a bigger one.

Kili brought you a few yards away from the camp, out of ear shot but not out of sight. After the crash course in archery during the day’s walk, you were as prepared as you could be. Kili carved a target into the trunk of a tree with his dagger, not worried about losing misfired arrows in the underbrush because the fletching on the end of all his arrows were bright yellow.

He situated you both at a reasonable distance from the target and demonstrated again how to place your fingers on the string and what position to be in when you pull the string back. When he handed you the bow you were not expecting it to be as heavy as it was. Without an arrow, you tried to pull the string back like he showed but you couldn’t move it. You looked at Kili.

“Just pull it back Y/N.” He encouraged, with a proud little smile on his face.

“I am, Kee,” you said still straining to pull it. It wouldn’t budge. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what could be wrong—Ah! He got it!

“Here, let me help.” He came up and stood behind you. “The draw weight for my bow must be too high for you,” he said into your ear in a low hushed tone while he got into position. He shuffled his legs behind yours and placed his hand below yours on the handle and his fingers above and below your slimmer, softer ones on the string. They were much stronger and much thicker than yours. Two of your fingers were the same width as one of his, a thought that quickly had you blushing. The irresistible mental image of moaning out for him while being deliciously stretched around his capable digits as he cooed praises, was nearly too much. You thanked God he was behind you and therefore couldn’t see your bright red face.

He let you do most of the work pulling the bowstring to allow you to get a feel for the mechanics and amount of potential energy the movement created.

“And…” he made sure you were ready, “Release.”

You both let go of the string at the same time.

“Perfect! Now let’s try it with an arrow” He got one from the quiver on his back and handed it to you.

You nocked the arrow like he taught you then got into position. He helped you pull the string back like before, allowing you to control the aim.

“Ready…” You said to him this time, “Release!”

The arrow flew across the field and landed smack in the middle of the bullseye!

“No way,” Kili said in complete disbelief. You both went over to inspect the target. Sure enough, the arrow was deep in the carved circle of the tree.

“That’s amazing Y/N!” He turned to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen. You were as happy as him, jumping up and down excitedly.

“I want to try again!” You walked over to your previous spot and lined yourself up, waiting for him to join you. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and grabbed another arrow on the way over. You repeated the process like a practiced dance, enjoying more than anything that he was your partner. He allowed you to aim again, but this time the arrow didn’t hit its mark or the tree at all; It planted itself firmly into the leaf-covered underbrush.

“Awe,” you pouted, “I rushed, next time I’ll take my time.” You grabbed another arrow from his quiver, accidentally getting your face in his. For a moment, you could feel the heat of his lips and his breath tumbling over onto your own in a near ragged pant.

When you backed away you both politely laughed it off, though you could have sworn he leaned closer to you in that brief moment.

You shot all the arrows he had in his quiver. A handful hit the target, and a few even got close to the bullseye, but none hit the center like the first. Being a good coach, he encouraged and teased when the time was right.  

Once again in your own little world, it was like nothing mattered except him. His radiant smile, his contagious laughter, his excitability; it was all consuming. As the day wore on, your arms got tired, and you were ready for a break. You helped him collect the arrows in and around the tree, so he could show off for a bit like boys do for pretty girls. He did trick shots and action shots and even pinned the pinecone you threw for him to the tree. His skills were very impressive. Your return to the camp was met with impressed exclamations.

“Was that a bullseye on the first shot?!” Bofur asked, having seen the miracle even from the other side of the camp.

“Aye!” You said excitedly, proud of your accomplishment. You didn’t even realize that you were beginning to use their dialect.

“Good job lass!” Oin said, along with the others happily celebrating with you.

After all that working out, you were hungry for a snack. You rummaged through your bag in search of the grapes you had foraged with Bilbo the day before. They weren’t in your bag where you left them, carefully wrapped in your old T-shirt.

‘They couldn’t have fallen out’ you thought as you scanned the camp for the thief, already having an idea of the culprit. You stopped when your eyes fell on Kili across the camp, leaning against a tree with a shit-eating grin as he popped a grape into his mouth.

You were livid. It was a total invasion of your only private property: your bag, and you felt extremely violated.

You couldn’t say anything to the offending dwarf or even look at him in fear of your rage exploding onto him. The camp fell silent as you walked to Kili, your anger evident from your expression.

That feeling in Kili’s chest sunk to his boots when he saw how angry you were; he knew he’d gone too far. You snatched the grapes from his hand and walked (stomped) into the field beyond the camp.

“Y/N wait—” he tried to follow you into the field.

“NOT NOW KILI” you snapped at him over your shoulder in a tone he didn’t quite think you were capable of. He stopped in his tracks at your tone, the same one his mother used when she was very cross with him. The other members of the company who heard the commotion snickered at Kili’s self-inflicted misfortune.

You sat in the field, soaking up the sunshine and eating your grapes while you calmed down. Kili moped around camp like an abandoned puppy; it was quite a pitiful sight.

When you finished your snack, you took a few deep breaths to get the anger from your system and allow your thoughts to come together to properly explain to Kili why you were so mad. The youngest Durin hesitantly joined you in the field when he saw you were done with your grapes, his footfalls crunching the grass beneath him alerting you to his presence. He sat next to you clearly a little nervous by how he picked at the grass.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground. “It was just supposed to be a joke, honest,”

“Joke or not, Kili Durin, you shouldn’t have gone through my stuff!” You wanted to make sure he understood how unhappy his actions made you. He cringed at his full name. “You violated the only sliver of privacy I have out here!”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said in a regretful voice you’d never heard from him before. “I shouldn’t have gone through your bag.”

You sighed and looked over at him. “I forgive you Kili,” You took another deep breath, satisfied he’d learned his lesson, “Just don’t do it again, ok?”

He smiled, happy to be back on good terms with you, “I won’t, I promise”. You smiled too, his infectious charm melting what little remained of your anger. You leaned in for a hug, knowing you both needed physical reassurance.

He sat with you in the field for a while, content to stay in comfortable silence. You’d been eyeing a beautiful patch of flowers a few feet away since you’d sat down. You shifted so you were laying on your stomach to get a closer look at their vibrant hues and decided you wanted to use them, but how? Kili moved next to you, mirroring our position, to see what you were looking at. Then inspiration struck.

“I’ll braid them into your hair!” You said excitedly. He gave you a look of surprised confusion.

“What?! No!” he was immediately against the idea and even backed away from you as if you’d jump on him any second like his brother might, “Why don’t I put them in your hair instead? They’d look much better on you.” He desperately tried to come up with a reason to avoid the inevitable onslaught of mocking he’d have to endure if he agreed to your plan.

You brought yourself to a kneel so you could look him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, “Pussy,” you simply said.

He scoffed and got all huffy and puffy, “I am not a pussy!” He said defensively, his cute accent got thicker when he was flustered, it made it so hard to take him seriously, “I just think the flowers would make you even more beautiful than you already are.”

You blushed deeply at his words and looked away from his charming little smile to keep your thoughts from your more baser mindset and to think over his offer. He started twirling the end of one of the braids he’d done the night before between his fingers. It was a sweet and absentminded motion, to which you relented with a sigh, “Alright, but you have to teach me how to use a sword after.”

“Deal!” He gave a hearty nod. You got your hair stuff from your bag and your bracelet to work on and hopefully finish while Kili did your hair. You picked the prettiest flowers and put them in the extra fabric of your shirt like a delicate basket. He dragged over a stone to sit on and got to work undoing the braids and brushing your hair out.

You didn’t realize how tight he’d made the braids till the tension was released from your scalp. You sighed in pleasured relief as he moved your hair around with the brush. That sound immediately pricked his ears.

“Does that feel good, princess?” He looked down at you and smiled as he massaged the sore parts of your head. You were too lost in the feeling his skilled hands were creating to hear his pet name.

Once he massaged the soreness away, he parted your hair and began braiding. Kili had a vision of what he wanted to do to your hair. He wanted a thick band like a crown around the top of your head and four small thin braids scattered across the rest of your loose unbraided hair.

You were on an entirely different plane of existence. You felt so calm and relaxed and taken care of with his undivided attention, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. His tranquil voice when he asked for a flower every now and then was the only thing you could hear.

When Kili was putting on the finishing touches, Fili came and joined you in the field to see what you both were doing, sadly breaking you from your lovely state of mind.

“Kili wouldn’t let me put flowers in his hair.” You pouted after the older brother inquired about your change in hairstyle.

“Even after he rummaged through your bag!” Fili feigned offense on your behalf with a smirk as he laid on his side in front of you both propped up on his elbow.

“Shut up, Fili” Kili huffed, ashamed of his previous actions, as he carded his fingers through your loose hair to make sure it was laying properly.

“Awe, Kiwi’s embawwassed,” you said in a baby-talk voice, making you and Fili laugh a little.

Kili stopped combing his fingers through your hair and tangled them in the loose hair at the back of your head. He pulled your head down to make you look up at him looming over you. He was about to say something, but the inadvertent dominating gesture caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, stalling any thoughts he tried to voice.

You were both stuck in that trance for just a moment, yet it took an eternity to pass. He was unable to look away from your pleasure pinched eyebrows and slightly parted panting lips. You were captivated by his handsome blushing features and the fire in his eyes. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, to meet his lips in heated passion.

“Good gods you two,” Fili rolled his eyes. His sudden interruption snapped Kili back to reality so he could release your hair. “Get a room,” Fili finished his statement.

“Shut up, Fili,” you both said in unison with faces equally ablaze and eyes cast anywhere but at each other. The elder just looked at you two and laughed to himself, he knew at that moment you were both madly in love.

“Here’s your brush, Y/N.” Kili handed it to you, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes, thank you” You took it from him and hastily returned it to your bag then met Kili back in the field for sword training. His brother was still there passively observing (waiting till he had to step in to correct the younger as this was not Kili’s area of expertise).

Bilbo allowed you to borrow his sword so you could get an idea of what a properly fitted one felt like without your wrists being torn to shreds by the other much heavier swords of the company. Kili walked you through basic moves and positions to teach you how to make your weapon like an extension of your own body. When he tried to speed up the movements and have you come at him in mock battle, you faltered and messed up the arrangement of poses.

When this happened, Fili of course would step in with a simplified version to help you. Before long, you had an audience, and the watchful eyes and extensive fighting prowess of Thorin and Dwalin. Kili was no longer the teacher but the sentient-sparing mannequin. The sequence of positions and movements became longer the more you worked at it. It felt amazing to be capable of so much. You knew it was just choreography, but it made you better now than you were before.

You were beginning to sweat under your thick tunic. The physical exertion was getting to Kili as well. When you took a water break you removed your shirt, the coffee brown padded camisole you wore underneath being far more breathable, but much tighter than your usual outerwear. It left hardly anything to the imagination.

Your less-dressed return to the now-stamped-down grass of the makeshift training area was met with impressed exclamations, wolf whistles, and light applause. You blushed and pretended to be a fashion model at the end of a runway. They found it very amusing.

Kili came back after wondering what the commotion was about.

He saw you waiting for him, you hadn’t noticed him approaching yet, too busy putting on a silly little show. He loved seeing you like this, confident and carefree, not worrying about how you looked and focusing on something that was far more rewarding: having fun. He used the few seconds you were distracted to admire you. Your half up half down hair he’d just braided and styled, was blowing softly in the wind, and your short unruly baby hairs were matted to your sweaty forehead giving you a halo of sorts. Your camisole highlighted the alluring curve from your ribs to your hips like nothing Kili had seen before. The hem of the fabric was ridding up on your waist, revealing just a sliver of your lower tummy. Your pants kept where they were, hugging tight to your thighs and bottom.

‘Two can play that game’ Kili thought, not even trying to hide his mischievous smile. He took his shirt off and threw it in his bag.

You looked up and saw him coming to meet you. The long bangs that framed his face were clinging to it now from his perspiration. He was smirking, knowing he caught you slightly off guard. His prominent pectoral muscles bled into his strong thick arms. His waist tapered into his hips where his pants were beginning to ride low, revealing his defined adonis belt in its retreat. He exuded power as he walked towards you with his arms out a bit from his side, and his palms facing you, as if he were accepting your challenge.

“Ohho, it’s serious now, is it?” you said over a light chuckle, feigning being taken aback by his friendly challenge.

“Oh, it sure is.” He returned your light laugh and with a smug expression he tapped his sword against yours where it hung at your side. He knew he was flustering you. He could see it in the deepened flush that colored your cheeks and how your thumb picked at the leather-covered hilt of your sword.

You had to bite the inside of your lip rather hard to keep your eyes above his exposed shoulders. It had been so long since you’d felt so physically and mentally attracted to someone. The way he was looking at you made your panties dampen at the scandalous thoughts that his honeyed chocolate eyes made race through your head.

If Thorin hadn’t said, “Ready positions”, in that barking tone of his, you’d have jumped Kili’s bones and rode him off into the sunset.

You both got into the starting positions you preferred. Thorin shouted ‘Commence’ in Dwarfish. Kili came at you with harsh blows, which you perfectly countered like you’d been taught. You were able to quickly move yourself, so you were standing at his side. You took the opening and swung for his exposed ribs, but he easily blocked your attack. You pressed your blade against his to force him back and give up some ground. He stood steadfast in his heavy boots, however, and pushed back against you, getting his face close to yours to tease you.

“Good job, you remembered how to keep your grip on the sword.” He said with mock celebration. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your footing. He glanced at your lips where your teeth were worrying your lower lip; A habit he noticed when you were focused or nervous.

“I’ve been taught well, Archer.” You shot back, as suave as you could manage under the conditions. He threw you back so he could reset his stance.

“We’ll see about that, Ibinê,” he said, flustering you again with that mischievous grin as his native language easily rolled off his tongue.

You charged at him, and your blades collided with a loud metallic clang. Your sudden advance surprised him, he backed up a few steps. Cheers came from your audience.

“Ibinê?” You strained while your blades met again in a brute force pressing match. “What does that mean?”

Kili shoved you back and swiftly turned around, a trick he hadn’t yet revealed in your spar. He abandoned his blade somewhere off to the side and turned around again but crouched in his movement so he could swipe your legs from beneath you. You fell to the ground with a muted thud, your weapon knocked from your grasp. Kili scrambled to straddle your hips, pinning down your legs with his and your wrists above your head. You tried to fight against him, but his strength and weight are much greater than yours.

He panted above you, smiling like a cat who got the canary, “If only it were you straddling me,” he whispered under his breath and winked at you discreetly. Your chest was heaving, making your breasts ebb and flow with the rhythm. The erotic tension was palpable between you.

“We have a victor!” someone said from the sidelines to break your daze. Kili blushed and stood and helped you from the ground. Your audience clapped a little then dispersed to the camp a few feet away. You leisurely walked away from the encampment along the edge of the forest to catch your breath. The extra sway in your hips enticed Kili to follow you. He walked beside you, you looked up at him delighted he got the hint and followed you. He leaned in close to say in a voice that was deeper than normal, “Ibinê means my gem.” His words took a moment to register, causing a delayed blush to color your chest and neck.

He bit his lip as a thought played behind his eyes. Growing bold from the adrenaline still in his veins, he wrapped his hand around yours, he picked up speed till he was running. He took you far from the others. The sun was setting, painting the sky in those vivid colors only seen at dusk and dawn.

Kili slowed to a stop and used his grip on your hand to bring you in front of him. He took a step into your personal space.

“Labathmizi means I adore you.” He gingerly placed his hand on your cheek like he was handling the thinnest, most precious glass in the world. You were blushing profusely, your gaze danced from his eyes to his lips. “Abnâmulzi means you are beautiful.” He pecked his lips against yours for a moment then backed you against a tree and pinned you against it with his strong hand on your hip. His voice was low and rough with arousal, “Azralizi du-nâmrul, Ibinê, means I want to fuck you, my gem.” He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that surpassed any expectation you had. His lips were soft against yours; his hand tenderly held your cheek. You lifted your leg over his hip, his hand moved to from your hip to your thigh, and it felt like it was searing into the cloth covered skin. It slid up to your ass cheek and urged you to grind against him. You whimpered as his hardening member pressed against your soaking core. Kili met your movements, making himself hiss at the delicious friction you were both craving.

When you broke the kiss for air as lust flooded your mind and loins, “That’s really hot” was all you could manage.

You were becoming addicted to his kiss. The way his thumb would glide against your cheek and the soft, barely there little whimpers he was making as you deepened the kiss were driving you mad with need.

Your hand was on his bare shoulder and the other tangled in his hair scratching and pulling lightly on the soft brown tresses. His tongue won its fight against yours when he gyrated his hips perfectly to grind into you, causing a moan to bubble from you.

He broke away, panting. He looked at you, suddenly silent with his eyebrows pinched in a sudden focused confusion. This immediately concerned you.

You opened your mouth to ask if he was ok, but he put his finger to his lips to silence you. He closed his eyes to focus on something; dwarfs and their connection to the environment around them still confused you.

His eyes shot open in a panic, and he tore himself away from you so he could pick you up bridal style.

You clung to him as he broke out in a dash back to camp, “A pack of orc’s are coming.”  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist <3: @letmelickyoureyeballs, @nessarosefiction, @akari-rioan

[ironmandeficiency]

sending memes

pairing: legolas / modern!reader

word count: 2153

summary: it was remarkably easy to fall in love with the elven prince. unfortunately, it was somewhat harder to actually convey said feelings. that’s when you decide to use memes

req: can i have legolas x reader with "sender quotes a poem that reminds them of receiver"? -@micheleamidalajedi

a/n: leave it to me to turn soft romance prompts into bullshit 😂i had to tweak it just a smidge but i think it's fine. mistor is gn sindarin for strayer/wanderer, aluon is gn sindarin for wholesome, & meril means artist or poet in woodelven sindarin

in the beginning, the elves had no idea what to do with you. you were far too brash and loud for court and had very little formal training in just about anything useful. your clothes were strange and there were dozens of words in your vernacular they didn’t understand, and several of your mannerisms threw the elves of the greenwood into tizzies.

your consensus was that they tolerated you simply because you knew things you shouldn’t, like the events of the first age and personal details about king thranduil that never saw the light of day.

some elves surprisingly enjoyed your presence very early on and jumped on the opportunity to learn about where you came from. of this number was legolas, a very adept learner who was easy on the eyes (and your heart, but that’s neither here nor there).

you’ve been in middle earth for a few years now, having jumped on the chance to stay and never return to a world slowly deteriorating. once you told the elves about various tragedies that had struck your earth in the past hundred years alone, even thranduil was terrified at the prospect of sending you back.

so now you were somewhat fluent in sindarin and best friends with a prince; oh, how the turntables.

“mistor!” your elvish name was cheerfully shouted across the training arena. “watch this!” aluon’s voice was immediately recognized and it brought a smile to your face. he had been one of your very first friends in middle earth and despite his youth (for an elf), was placed on your royal guard for if you ever ventured beyond the greenwood. he was what you would call a cinnamon roll.

“okay, i’m watching!”

aluon was currently practicing with his throwing knives, his bow resting against the side of a training dummy. for all the praise a bow and arrow got from elves, he preferred his knives just a bit more.

he threw one last look over his shoulder to make sure you were indeed watching him before throwing the blade in his hand with a resounding “YEET!”

the knife landed directly in the bullseye because of course it did.

you could barely congratulate him on his aim and joke execution for your cackling, arms holding your stomach as if your body were truly coming undone. his laughter joined yours soon after, the two of you leaning on each other while trying (and failing) to catch your breath.

-

legolas has known you long enough to know that where boisterous laughter is heard, you’re likely the culprit. this is why his footsteps guided him to the training arena in the royal wing, the one reserved for himself, his father, and their most trusted friends and guards.

to his non-surprise, you and aluon were wheezing on the ground at some unknown joke. he approached you both with a smile of his own, sturdy hands helping you to your feet. “mellon nin, what lightens you so?”

“aluon was throwing knives and went ‘YEET!’ and he hit the center of the target!” the cackling returned with renewed strength as you mimicked the motion and raucous screech of the four letter word.

ah, the practice of yeeting. you explained the word to him very early into your presence here and he found himself using the term on the odd occasion, much to your delight.

but legolas, as polite and regal as he was, felt the embers of friendly competition light in his chest. it wasn’t about the aim of aluon’s throws, as logical but slightly unfounded as that claim would have been.

it was truly about your laughter. he wanted to be the reason you lit up with such mirth, he wanted to be responsible for the joy in your eyes.

with all the princely decorum he could muster, he armed himself with his bow, notched an arrow, and let it fly directly into the wooden handle of aluon’s blade.

then, with a straight face, he dabbed.

-

tauriel was a hard elf to get ahold of. as captain of the guard, she was always busy, flitting about while completing all sorts of duties.

but finally, two weeks after legolas made a show of dabbing in the training arena, you found her in a rare moment of rest. you knocked on the door to her rooms and when she opened it, you walked right inside and plopped yourself on the nearest chair.

“ugh tauriel! finally, i’ve been trying to talk to you for ages!”

she smiles warmly, always having been one to enjoy the mannerisms that made you so intensely human. “it’s good to see you too, mellon nin,” her chuckle is soft and sincere. “what do you need?”

you sighed, snatching a throw pillow from the chaise you were on and reclining back in a way reminiscent of a therapist’s office. “i need advice about legolas.”

her smile turned to a knowing smirk. “ah, so you finally see what the entire kingdom already knows.”

“what do you mean ‘the entire kingdom knows’? what do they know?!”

“ah, i see i was mistaken.”

your resulting floundering was amusing to the redhead.

“i’m serious tauriel, i need your help!” you thought it useless to play coy and being vague would get you nowhere, so you told her exactly what you needed to know. “i need to know how to go about asking him on a date, or whatever it is that elves do when they’re interested in someone.”

“well,” she began, “if i know him as well as i think i do, he wouldn’t want you to conform to elven traditions to please him.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” at this point, you were beginning to question why you came to tauriel for help, seeing as she was being ridiculously cryptic and strangely unhelpful. “in case you forgot, he’s royalty. i can’t exactly woo him with ridiculous memes and call it a day.”

she nodded. “why not? if that is a regular human courting tradition where you’re from, why would he not find it acceptable? it’s part of who you are, and one could only call themselves a worthy suitor if they appreciate those things about their intended.”

okay, she had a little bit of a point. not that you would tell her so, of course. “but i can’t text him memes at ungodly hours of the night, there still is a lack of cell phones to contend with.”

for someone so smart and otherworldly, tauriel thought, you were rather oblivious when your feelings got in the way of your common sense. “then do those things in a different way. as you’ve told me before, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”

after a few moments of silent pondering, you realized what she was hinting at. “i can draw the memes! or, well, i can ask meril for assistance in the matter, since i’m not quite used to using quills and such.” tauriel thought she could see the gears turning in your head (if that was indeed the right analogy).

she shouldn’t have been surprised when you leaped from her chaise and wrapped her in a tight hug. humans in your world must be a bit more affectionate than the ones she was vaguely familiar with, “thank you thank you thank you! i’ll let you know how it goes! bye!” with that abrupt exit, tauriel watched you fondly as you sprinted from your rooms, probably heading to the library where you could find meril.

-

legolas was fletching arrows when a courier appeared in his line of vision with a bow. “my prince, a letter for you.” he accepted the outstretched letter with a nod, wondering what it could possibly be.

the parchment was familiar to him, being the very same quality that occupied his own writing desk in his chambers. the only momentary pause was seeing that the few words were written in westron, underneath a drawing of a radish with a tiny face.

“you’re… radishing?” it took him a moment to dissect the pun, shoulders shaking minutely when the meaning fully registered. then his eyes caught your signature on the bottom of the page and his smile grew wider. he folds your letter neatly and tucks it into a pocket. when he goes back to his rooms next, he will deposit it securely on his desk to keep it safe.

the radish is the first of many of these pictures he receives from you, he soon learns that in the world you came from, they’re called “memes” and can convey any number of things depending on the content and context.

during dinner one evening, you passed him a napkin that he unfolded to find another vegetable drawing, this time a smiling carrot, with the words “i carrot a lot about you” that turned the tips of his ears pink. if his father noticed the blush he gave no indication of it.

your memes varied in artistic talent (he would know meril’s penmanship anywhere) but all carried the same intention, which seemed to be making him flustered at the most inopportune times. another thing he learned about memes was that they were frequently sent back and forth between two people.

his own visit to meril seemed to be long overdue.

-

meril has lived for several thousand years in service to the greenwood. yet, in all her centuries of knowledge and experience, she’s never seen two beings dance around feelings with the same grace as prince legolas (or lack thereof, where you were concerned).

you taught her what memes were and provided descriptions of what you deemed “templates” for her to draw,  master copies of a certain type of meme where the meaning of the meme changed depending on the text. it was a very interesting affair, if she did say so herself. they became more popular throughout the kingdom thanks to your influence, so much so that the prince himself came to her one day with an odd request.

“i need you to help me compose a meme worthy of mistor’s laughter.” he looked serious as he ever did, grim determination set in every pore of his face. none would know that he was simply trying to make a meme.

“you need to be more specific, your highness. your dear mistor can find humor in nearly everything around them. in fact, yesterday afternoon, they spilled nearly a month’s worth of ink onto a single piece of parchment and laughingly called it the thirteenth reason.”

legolas smiled at the story before his mind fully processed what she said. “they’re not my- thirteenth reason for what? what were the other twelve?”

meril shrugged, walking towards what became your desk in the library soon after your arrival. many of the templates were strewn about its surface haphazardly, half-finished memes next to their matching templates. “you should find everything you need here, your highness. if mistor arrives before you’re gone, i shall keep them occupied.”

“thank you. i greatly appreciate your help.”

finding blank parchment and a quill, he dipped into your ink jar and quickly got to work.

-

you generally never got letters. any missives you received from various elves were dubbed simply as messages that just happened to be written, which is why being told there was a letter for you had you perplexed. it wasn’t like modern earth discovered how to send carrier pigeons to middle earth in the few years you’ve lived in the greenwood.

instead of asking the courier several questions about the contents of the letter, you simply bid him thanks and quickly tore into it.

the wax seal of the royal line was recognized in seconds. thranduil wouldn’t waste his time writing anything out that he could simply tell you in person with a summons to wherever he happened to be.

that left legolas, and the thought made you giddy just thinking about it.

you registered that there were words written to you, but paid them no mind for the moment. what truly gave you surprise was the fact he used a template. you knew this because you recognized the format; a young girl standing in front of several other people who were giving her audience, a display board just behind her.

this bitch sent you a lisa simpson meme.

after a moment of bewilderment, you actually read the words that were just behind her.

“mistor’s laugh makes the plants grow stronger and could replace the sun with their joy”

you could tell that towards the end he worried about having enough room for all the words in the square with how they got just a smidge smaller. but that didn’t matter to you in the slightest, not when he wrote such a romantic sentiment solely for you. your giggles were the furthest thing from dignified but you didn’t care.

you had a prince to find (and hopefully kiss, if things went your way).

[mimilind]

Sent to Middle-earth - Part 1

♡ ♡ ♡

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2700

Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♡ ♡ ♡

1. Spider’s Web

The huge spider took another step towards you. You tried to back away, but there was a tree behind you, and you could get no further. Trapped.

A hairy foot crushed the basket of bilberries you had worked so hard to gather. As you stared into the monster’s multiple eyes, helplessly awaiting your death, you cursed the magician for sending you here – and not for the first time. Middle-earth was not a cozy, romantic world with exciting adventures around each corner, and where everyone was a badass fighter. It was dark and dangerous, you were still your normal, non-warrior self, and you hated being here.

“Go away,” you told the spider in your broken Sindarin, the language your new family had taught you. 

It did not reply, and instead came closer. Its stench filled your nostrils, making you dizzy, and you could not look away from its black, dead eyes. In a last effort to protect yourself, you covered your face with your cloak.

It did not help. You felt a sharp sting through the stout wool and straight into your belly. As the poison spread through your veins, your body went limp. 

Still awake, but unable to move or even speak, you were dragged up on the spider’s web. It swiftly spun you around, covering you head to toe in sticky silk. Instead of devouring you directly, it left you hanging there like a big burrito, perhaps wanting to wait until you were dead. 

When you were alone, you felt utterly miserable. Your stay in Middle-earth had been no picnic so far, but this topped the list as your worst experience. And likely your last one, too.

Why had you ever gone into that stupid box? 

But it had been a funfair, and he was not a real magician – or so you had thought – and you had played along. After entering his vanishing box, you had said where you wanted to be sent (Middle-earth, of course!), and the next thing you knew, you stood in a dark forest outside a cabin, with an elf family staring at you like you had popped into existence right before their eyes. This, you later learned, was exactly what had happened.

That was over a year ago now, and still you had no idea how it had been possible, or if you could ever return home. If you became spider-food now, would you wake up in your own world again?

There was a rustle above you. The spider returning? You tried to see, but your eyes were partly covered, and you could only perceive vague shapes.

You heard a twang, a shrill screech, and then something big and dark fell past you, hitting the ground with a soft squelch.

“Got it.” The voice was strong and melodious; an elf voice, but none you recognized.

“Well done,” said another. “Now let us destroy these eggs.”

“We continue tracking its partner, and you catch up with us when you are finished.” The third voice sounded further away.

Whoever the elves were, they had not seen you. You tried to call out, but your mouth was full of sticky web.

“Mpff! Mph!”

“Did you hear something?”

“Up there. It has caught someone.”

You felt the web tremble and heard the voices mutter and grumble as they tried to avoid getting caught in it while cutting you loose. And then you fell, crashing down, hip first. The impact would probably have been painful, but the spider poison had made you numb, and you felt nothing.

“Sorry about that. It was the only way to get you down,” said the first voice kindly, as its owner began to peel away the cocoon from around you. When your face was freed, you could see him clearly. It was a male elf – an ellon, as they were called – with an unusual golden blonde hair color. He wore a hunter’s green tunic, and a quiver of arrows strapped across his chest. Could it be…?

“I am Legolas of the woodland guard. Who are you, and why does a human walk alone in these woods?” 

Legolas. The elf you had loved since the first time you saw him on screen, in the first Lord of the Rings movie, when he walked into Rivendell and curiously looked around. The movies had got his appearance slightly right, but even in his youth, Orlando Bloom had never been as handsome as this elf. You felt your heart beat faster.

The poison made you unable to move your lips and tongue, and your speech came out unintelligible. “I ah ooh…”

“Did the spider sting you?” Another elf came into view; this one had dark hair. 

“How unfortunate,” said Legolas. “And your hip is swelling up. I hope the fall has not broken it.”

“So, what do we do? The rest of the company is already far ahead.”

“We have to go to the camp.” He turned back to you. “Don’t worry. We are going to treat the sting wound and clean out any remaining poison. When your speech returns, you can tell us where you live, and we will help you return there.”

You blinked your eyes and made another noise, hoping it sounded grateful. These elves had saved your life.

Legolas picked you up as if you weighed nothing, and carried you in his arms along a nearly invisible path, closely followed by his friend. You felt your face heat up, starstruck to be this close to your idol, and you were almost grateful the poison made you unable to speak – for you suspected whatever you said right now, would be incredibly stupid. 

After a long walk, you came to a glade with a fireplace in its center, surrounded by a couple of tents in the same green color as the elves' clothes. Legolas carried you into one, and placed you on a blanket. He took off your cloak and folded it into a thick roll, placing it under your head as a pillow.

Then he called to his friend outside: “Can you go after the others, explaining my absence, and ask Niphredil to come back here? Meanwhile, I will do what I can, but I am no healer.”

The elf agreed, and was gone. 

“I have to cut this off, to find where you were stung. The sooner I can wash off the poison, the sooner you will get your mobility back.” Legolas looked apologetic as he ruined your outer garment, but you did not mind. The elvish family who found you all those months ago had given you clothes more suitable for this world, and you were sure they would understand. They were kind people, and you hoped they were not too worried that you had not returned home yet.

In only your undershirt you felt a bit embarrassed, and it seemed Legolas was not entirely comfortable either when he found where the wound was. He folded the hem up and exposed your stomach. Looking down, you saw the ugly mark from the spider’s stinger and felt nauseous; it was round and even, and as large as a coin. A black, oily mess covered the area, mingling with your blood, which seeped out in a sluggish trickle.

“The poison holds the bleeding back, but if I leave it there it will keep leaking into you and prolong your immobility, and possibly do some lasting damage to your nerves as well. I have to get it off, and then quickly bandage the wound. It should be painless, but with the poison gone, your sensations will slowly return. I hope the healer will have come by then; she knows better what to do about the pain.”

He soaked a cloth in something herbal-smelling, and washed the area carefully. As soon as the black filth was gone, fresh, crimson blood welled out of the hole. Legolas was ready with a wad of linen and pressed it firmly against the stinger mark, winding a long bandage around your waist to keep it in place.

Next, he checked on your hip. As he gently prodded the swelling, you felt a numb ache. 

“Ahh…”

“Does it hurt?” he looked worriedly at you.

“Little,” you managed to get out.

“I’m glad your speech is returning. I had better check this before your senses return entirely; it will probably be less painful if I do it now. May I?”

“Yeshh,” you slurred.

“I, uh, have to roll down your hose a bit.” He blushed.

“Yeshh,” you assured him. Of course he could not know you were from a world where showing one’s leg was not a big deal, especially not for medical reasons. 

Legolas fumbled a while with your hose strings; apparently he was not used to the kind of knot you had tied them with. 

Hose were interesting garments, worn by both men and women around here. They resembled a pair of very long socks, though not as elastic; reaching from the toe all the way to the crotch. Unlike pants, they were not sewn together, and tied to an underbelt to stop them from sliding down. Underneath the hose, you wore linen underwear, looking a bit like large, baggy boxer shorts – these too unisex.

Legolas had finally loosened your hose, and uncovered the leg which had hit the ground first. Your hip and upper part of the thigh had gone dark and looked twice as thick as normal. He felt along the bone, and the ache returned, a bit stronger now. You grunted.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“‘S alright.”

“It could be broken, but it’s not easy to feel.” He sighed.

As he started to roll the hose back up, you stopped him. “No. Leave… Swell. Hurt.” The pain was steadily growing worse now, a sharp throbbing with each heartbeat.

“Of course.” He covered you with a blanket instead. “How are you feeling?”

“It hurts,” you said. 

“Niphredil should be back soon. She can give you something to drink. It tastes horrible, but it will take away some of the pain.”

You nodded. Your sensations had returned to your arms and hands now, and you experimentally wiggled your fingers.

“What were you doing alone in the forest?” He took on a somewhat stern tone, and you remembered the Elvenking did not take lightly to strangers roaming Mirkwood. Legolas probably helped his father guard the borders.

“I was gathering berries, but strayed too far from the others, and lost my way… I called back to them, but then the spider came.” You looked at him apologetically.

“Humans are not allowed in this land.” He frowned.

“I know, but… They took me in. A family of elves.” You described how you had been sent here by magic, but on purpose kept most of the details out. It was too hard to explain how different your world was; it was easier to make it sound like you were from another part of this world.

Legolas looked a bit skeptical, but to your relief he did not question you further.

Not long afterwards the rest of the elf company returned, and their healer took over your care. Like Legolas had predicted, she gave you a bitter draught for the pain, but it actually did help a little and also made you drowsy. Soon you were fast asleep.

♡ ♡ ♡

In the morning, the healer returned to check on you. When she removed the bandage from your stomach, she drew in a sharp, surprised breath. “It’s almost healed!” 

You looked down, and your eyes popped open. She was right. The hole was nearly gone, and had scabbed nicely. It still hurt, but much less. Uncovering your thigh, you saw that the swelling was down, and it was less dark in color, but when you tried to move your leg a searing pain shot up.

“Keep it still. The hip bone is broken,” said Niphredil. “But it still surprises me how much better it looks. If you were an elf, it would have been expected, but for a human to heal this fast… I have never seen that before.” 

Legolas came inside the tent, and heard the last part. He too examined your wounds, looking very puzzled. “Are you an elf?” he asked. “You don’t entirely look like one, but with a stamina like this, you must be.”

“Maybe the magical box did it?” you pondered. You actually had noticed some differences in yourself the past year. You were physically stronger and had more energy than before, and slept a lot less – you had accounted it to your wholesome lifestyle with lots of fresh air, healthy food and exercise – but what if your transport here had changed your body somehow? It was no less strange than you coming here in the first place.

Legolas seemed intrigued that someone could change from a human into an apparently immortal person, and resumed his questioning about your arrival here. This time, you told him more than before – the truth about where you came from. 

“So this is why you speak with an accent. If you had been from Gondor like you said at first, you would have learned Sindarin at an early age.” 

“Sorry.” The accent embarrassed you, and there were still many Sindarin words you did not know.

“Don’t be. I like your accent.” He smiled, and you felt your cheeks heat pleasantly.

Strangely, your being sent through time and space did not surprise Legolas as much as you had thought, and instead he seemed mostly curious about you and your world. But then, this was Middle-earth. Here were fire-breathing dragons and rings of power, giants who turned into stone in sunshine, talking spiders and cursed swords; here they used to have trees and lamps instead of a sun and moon, and one of the stars was a guy in a boat sailing across the sky. Magic was normal here. 

All through the day and well into the night you talked, telling Legolas all he wanted to know about the future. You only hid one thing from him: that Middle-earth and all its characters were fictive – including him. That was just too weird. I mean, how do you tell someone they are the figment of a 20th century author’s imagination?

Besides, you were beginning to suspect this was not made up. Everything felt real, and looked real. What if Tolkien too had been transported to Middle-earth, and only wrote what he had seen? It was a curious thought, and you wanted to ponder over it more before you said or did anything stupid.

♡ ♡ ♡

The following day, the elves had planned to return to the palace, and to your delight Legolas asked if you wanted to come; both because he wished to question you more, and so the healer could make sure your leg healed properly. If you agreed, he would send a messenger to the elf family where you lived and explain the situation.

“I would love to see the palace,” you said.

“Good, that’s settled then. I should make it up to you for breaking your hip.”

“Don’t say that!” you objected. “You saved my life. Had you not come, I would have become spider food.” The thought made you shudder.

“I should have cut you down more carefully. One of us ought to have stood below, catching you.”

“I’m just grateful to be alive. Think no more of it,” you assured him.

Legolas lent you one of his tunics instead of the garment he had been obliged to cut when examining you, and when you had put it on, your nostrils filled with his pleasant smell. 

The elves had made a pair of crutches for you, and though your hip still hurt, you found it worked fairly well to limp along with them. Legolas adjusted his pace and walked slowly beside you, telling you about the places you went past. Despite the increasing darkness, there was some beauty left in Mirkwood.

You listened, and tried not to gaze at his attractive face too much. Before, you had loved your imagined version of him from the movies and books, but here he was real – and greatly surpassing your imagination! His kindness towards you had only made you like him more.

♡ ♡ ♡

Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[queeniesrose]

Master Post

Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one! Content Warning: Threesome, Face Fucking

NSFW Legolas: Kinks

Legolas is an exhibitionist. It is thrilling for him, due to his rank as an elf. The thought of someone catching him and his partner and ratting them out to his father, excites him.

Legolas loves whenever he hears his partners small whines. More often than not, the whines are so low that only elves can hear them. He has a voice kink. He loves to hear his partner whine, moan, make all kinds of different noises.

He would also be into face fucking his partner. He is a bit of a dacryphiliac. So when the waterworks start, it doesn't take long for him to come.

He is not opposed to sharing his partner with someone else on occasion.

There are very few people he is okay with sharing his partner with. Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir are amongst the few he would be comfortable sharing with.

He has had done a threesome with his partner and Aragorn. The position that is typically used is called the woman sandwich. Look it up if you want to see what it looks like.

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Pt. 1 Children of the kindly west (Kíli x Reader) — A tale of two dwarven hearts

This is a translation, more of a re-write, of a fanfiction I wrote first in German during 2013 - 2015 when the Hobbit movies premiered and I was just as obsessed and enamored by that adorable prince like everyone else. And reading the Silmarillion for the first time this year in February brought me back to middle-earth and reminded me of my love of dwarves. And this brings me here today. Enjoy! Cross-posted on AO3 here. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: None

Prologue (Erebor)

The sharp winter wind blew snow around the Erebor, whereas on the inside it was cosy and warm.

Efís, an old dwarrowdam, knew that soon the children would come and demand to hear another story. The children visited her on every afternoon during the dark winter months and she would tell them stories of her own long life, from times long gone and stories from deep of the heart and soul of their people — the stories of the dwarves of the kingdom of Erebor and beyond.

Some of these stories were true, some were not, some pretended to be one thing while actually being the other and with some, well, there was just no way of telling anymore.

Today, she decided, would she tell the children a true story from the time, when their people still lived in the blue mountains, the Ered Luin, before the Erebor was reclaimed and Smaug slain.

It was a love story, tender and pure and true but also so sad and heartbreaking that Efís had to wonder briefly for a moment if maybe the story was too much for the children to bear…

A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts and she went to greet her small visitors.

A group of children, all around age twelve to 40, looked up to her with big, joyfully expectant eyes, filled with excitement about the story they were about to hear and the sweets they would get and the hospitality they would be blessed with.

„Good evening, Efís“, they all greeted with fresh, glowing faces, they must have played in the snow for a while. Their little noses and cheeks were rosy and running.

„Good evening, dears, come on in“, she ushered them inside and the children took off their boots and coats, all covered in snow and went on to sit down on plush pillows and thick furs and little stools by the fire.

While the children found their seats Efís brought them her already prepared hot mulled berry juices  and fresh gingerbread and other baked goods, some of them still hot from the oven.

The hot juice and the pastries and the little cakes helped to quickly thaw the frozen faces and frozen hands of the children.

Shortly after the first group of children had arrived, was there another knock on her door and a second group came into her chambers and also a third one after the second!

Efís had prepared a lot of her famous hot mulled juice and gingerbreads and cookies and pastries in advance and had plenty to serve to her little guests.

When everyone had their cup with hot juice and some gingerbread pieces, she sat down herself — she sat down into her armchair by the crackling fire and looked over the children, who chatted and laughed with each other, some pulling their younger siblings or cousins on their laps and Efís smiled, time to begin!

„Children!“, she said with her firm, calm voice and clapped her hands, „please calm down, do you want to hear what story I have for you today?“

The expectant faces were immediately turned to her and she nodded in approval.

„Very well, children, are you all warm and cosy?“

„Yes, yes, yes!“, they screamed but quickly got quiet again, when Efís continued to speak.

The air was filled with the scent of spices, the freshly baked pastries and the scent of the wood and the smoke in the fire. 

And there was no sound besides the soft breathing of the children, an occasionally sniffling or cough and the crackling of the fire and Efís’ kind, wise voice.

„Today I will tell you a love story — it began many, many winters ago, long before my own birth and when our people still lived in the blue mountains far in the west of middle-earth, far, far away from here…

It was winter and snow had covered all of the mountains with a coat of white wonder. Just like here.

Hardly any dwarf was out on the streets on that day, when our story began, but instead everyone was in their warm houses and occupied themselves with activities for snowy afternoons. 

And so did the heroine of our story as well…

She sat by her window by candle light and read one of her favourite books. 

She loved reading stories of big adventures, courage, friendship, honour, loyalty and love. But her desire to experience such a story herself was dim in the background of her heart, she was happy and content with the life she had and she lived it with joy.

Our heroine also had a little sister, named Syniver, a grey pony and her father was a beloved and popular goldsmith in the town.

To put it simply — she lived a calm, comfortable life and did not know yet, how could she know, that her future was waiting for her. And that her future was not as calm and comfortable as her current life.

And she also did not know that she would soon meet the one again after many, many years, who would seal her fate and destiny.

The one person who would also be her One…

So at the moment was she only feeling peace and contentment, while she happily soaked up her favourite story but not for long anymore. Because her mother called for her, rather impatiently, from downstairs…“

Efís looked around in the children’s faces who had all listened to her with as much attention as they were able to give.

She took a sip of her own mulled juice and continued telling the story that her own grandfather had told her when she was just a girl herself.

[aeonianarchives]

Can I request a headcanon where Legolas befriends a dragon reader when he was younger? And reader is not like a shapeshifter, just a dragon (Could be Smaug's daughter) They met in the forest and became friends (All platonic) and maybe a tragic twist Thranduil finds out and doesn't approve of the friendship and chases reader out.

-You where both lost when you first met Legolas, you from splitting away from your father and him from wandering to far into the forest.

-Legolas had been warned of dragons before so he was weary of you before he realize you where no harm, he got exited causing you to coil back at how energetic he was

-he kept you a secret from his father as he knew his father hated dragons he didn't know the reason he just knew Thranduil despises them

-Ever since he became friends with you he would disappear into the forest for hours with no guard which made Thranduil become suspicious to the point he followed legolas

-You would Lick the Elf or jump on him with a hug whenever he met with you as a greeting of affection and Legolas would return with a hug

-he would come and give you food he suspected dragons would eat but most of the time it was elvish food dragons would not eat but you couldn't break it to him

-you even let him ride you when you where flying and the young ellon found it amazing.

-Legolas grew a habit of falling from high objects when he knew you where around just so you would catch him and take him on a ride

-When Thranduil found out he had followed Legolas and watched you jump on his son he came out of his hiding place his sword draw worried you would of harmed his son

-you backed away immediately from legolas thinking he had set this up and you watched them argue until Thranduil turned to you and told you to get out of his kingdom and never some back

-you gave Legolas one final look as he shouted at his father but left and never kept in secret contact with Legolas

-your father noticed how upset you had become after your months of excitement and running off

-he helped you get over Legolas until you eventually forgot about him but he didn't forget about you

-when legolas left the greenwood yes he found strider but he was also searching for you

-after Erebor was retaken and your father killed you settled in a ruin of an elven city in Eregion, the on the fellowship happened to camp in

-when you returned from a hunting trip you where disturbed to see a dwarf, men, hobbits a wizard and a familiar elf

-you decided to ignore the elf even if he did try and speak with you the dwarf threatened you and you hit him with your tail into a wall the wizard managed to reason with you as you didn't seem to hostile apart from to Gimli and Legolas

-"They don't like you either pointy ears"

-"Well they didn't whack me into a wall, apart from by accident when I was an Elfling"

-"So this was the dragon you where trying to find they don't seem to like you much"

-you let out a low growl stopping Legolas from replying and wrapped your tail around him and yanking him from the Fellowship making the other man, hobbit and dwarf grab their weapons only for Legolas to be grinning at you

-you where both full grown and Legolas sparked a friendship with you again ignoring everything his father wanted or told him

[miseries-mistress]

FIDELITY | ARAGON

Synopsis: The burden of sleep weighs heavily on your body and consciousness while you and Aragorn are forced to attend a banquet after a long day of riding. The only thing that makes any of this bearable is the company of each other, lost in your moment of careless whispers. 

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, kinda angst ig, but also fluff???, i know this didn't actually happen before the battle in rohan, but this is fanfiction, so who cares, no spoilers. W/C: 872

Notes: This is just a little drabble while i work on actual oneshots. also, i do plan on getting to my requests; it's just taking me a lot longer than i imagined. (thank you guys so much for 200 followers, ily)

lotr masterlist

The smoke of pipeweed drifted from the slight draft, curling upwards before dissipating into the stale air. Laughter rang out; chatter boomed as the distant language of lovers remained a faint whisper, hidden behind the shadow of feelings. As each moment passed and the night grew bitter, the people grew weary, their bellies full of brew and rich food. However, you and Aragorn remained silently seated, your plates barely touched while others danced and sang with fat smiles blistering their faces. 

He inhaled and exhaled, the pipe loosely caught between his forefinger and thumb, his fitted shirt clinging to his biceps while he rolled up the rest of the sleeves to his elbows, exposing the artwork of veins spiraling down his arm. His posture is loose, an arm lazily propped up while the other is slung over the polished wood, an almost foreign demeanor from the battle-hardened man you are used to witnessing.

Words evade you as you admire the details of his figure, watching his face for any hint of emotion to pick at and dissect, knowing far too well his reluctance to share his woes with you. 

It's not only him that is dispirited but you as well, for you are too weary to care about much else. The two of you had battled orcs and traveled across roves of land to scout, all while you prepared Rohan for something much more fierce than anything they had ever encountered. 

Both of you are beyond drained, reduced to silently basking in the presence of one another for the brief time you get to indulge in the simplicity of understanding before you must part ways. Secrecy is of the highest importance, for rumors would drag a freshly sharpened blade through your bond, which runs more profound than any mere friendship. He's a future king, and you are a hopeless romantic with a dream. 

Your head comes to rest on his shoulder, and the heaviness in your eyes, threatening to pull you under is like fighting an uphill battle. Each moment you strain to stay awake, but the pressure that settles over you is too great to ignore. As each moment passes into eternity, and you fall further into the creamy fabric of his freshly washed clothes, the smell of musk integrated with the woodlands wafts to your nose, and with each breath fall, you can't help but inhale more of his homely aroma. 

Aragorn moves his arm to settle around your waist, simultaneously pulling you into a more comfortable position by his side. Your eyes betray you by fluttering closed as you melt into the tenderness in which he holds you. 

The chatter is white noise, and his chest's steady rise and decline is your guide to the pitfalls of sleep that claim your dreary form. 

Aragorn cannot help but let his eyes wander to your stature as he grimaces. In the next hour, he would have to sneak away from the festivities with you in his arms, tucking you into your makeshift bed, only to mesmerize your face as if it would be the last time he would ever see it before leaving. Aragorn would then carry on with the charade that every waking moment he didn't spend at your side was not pure agony, ripping his soul into bloody, gruesome shreds over his yearning to be near you once more. He was resigned to being a mere bystander as you unwittingly devastate his stone heart over the laughter you share with other men- men who could provide you with the life you merit. 

It's a cruel game that fate is playing with his heart, and he tries to remain impassive to his internal struggle every time he can whisk you away from prying eyes, but he's cracking under the weight of his own facade. He can tell by the way your eyes carry a concern for his sake that you know of something of that which troubles him, but he can't bear to place that burden onto you. After all, there's nothing either of you could do to ease the pain. 

Aragorn brushes the hair straying into your eyes, letting his irises wander a moment longer before tearing them away. His heart longs to keep you for a moment longer, but his mind insists he takes his leave and ends your moment of tranquility, but by fault, he is a selfish man. Despite all of the caution both of you heed, his worries seem to fall away like rainwater off a building, and the consequences of indulgence become too enticing to ignore. His rational mind, just for a second, gives way to senseless logic. 

Aragorn's hand stutters for a moment before falling to your head, stroking down your hair in the cover of the shadows far from the senses of anyone who might bear witness to his devotion to someone who deserves more than he could ever offer, no matter what his blood might claim. His hand pulls your hair back, only to place the barest of kisses upon the crown of your head, not enough to disturb you but enough to offer him a second of solace before your inevitable separation.

"Losto mae, meleth nin."

(translates: sleep well, my love.)

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine an elf ending up in your world and allowing them to live with you.

(This was inspired by a game I used to play a lot and I thought it would be interesting if an elf ended up into reader’s world which has a different fantasy setting. I couldn't decide which elf to use, so I’m used They/Them to describe them so you can put anyone to play this headcanon with you) 

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: There are mentions of dying, some nakedness, violence, reader being passive aggressive, your elf might suffer some trauma because reader’s world is a bit more wild than Middle Earth, eventual growing friendship, dire wolves, undead, and some angst. 

------------------------------------------------------------

-It was just another day in your miserable life. You wake up, feed your dire wolves, build a club and leave your home to gather all the wood, iron, and materials you managed to get your hands on. 

-There wasn’t anything else you could do. You could only travel between places, kill every Leper and Damned on your path, go home, sleep, die and kill all the other exiles that came after you. It was an endless cycle. 

-The Plaguelands did not have much to offer, and it would take time to gather food and supplies for the next dungeon run. Not to mention you needed the key from the Forsaken Gatekeeper. 

-It was a bit lonely too. You only had thoughts to keep your mind occupied, and your only communication was through the raven cage, and you do not even know the people who wrote to you and helped you to get by. 

-You at least had your dire wolves to keep you company, so it was not all that bad. 

-You woke up one day and went on one of your trips, expecting it to be like any other day, but then you encountered something strange. 

-You were brutally killing the enemies with your wooden club, crushing their skulls, and spilling blood on the ground. Your dire wolves fought by your side, protecting you from the back and ripping apart every enemy that dared to come near you. 

-Your violent fight attracted someone’s attention, and you did not notice them coming till the end of your battle.

-You stood there – covered in blood and heavily breathing. You wolves checked on you, whimpering and attempting to lick the wounds you sustained. 

-You gave them pets, comforted them, and gave them treats for a job well done. You enjoyed listening to their happy yaps – and watching how they devoured the treats like excited puppies. It made you think how lucky you were to have them. 

-You were startled when you heard an unknown voice and prepared to fight – your dire wolves growling by your side. 

-The stranger stepped back a little when they saw your massive dire wolves. You held your club, ready to smash their head. 

-Surprisingly, the stranger did not try to strike you. They tried to talk peacefully and explained how they got lost in the mist and needed help. 

-You were confused since they did not look like an exile or any other human you usually met on your travels. They wore different and much more expensive-looking clothing. You couldn’t decide if they were from the capital or somewhere else. Not to mention, their ears were weirdly pointy. 

-You held caution while they spoke to you. They avoided looking directly at you since your torso was bare. One of the lepers tore up your shirt, so your skin and chest were bare to the world. 

-You almost found some amusement in their behavior – no doubt they grew up with rules of decency, but there was nothing you could do about your naked torso because you didn’t carry a spare shirt. 

-Not that it matters. You technically fought enemies naked every day. 

-You asked who they were, and they told you their name, which did not sound like a name anyone would have. 

-When you asked why their ears were pointy, they explained they were an elf, which did not ring any bells since Plaguelands did not have elves, only death, and the plague. 

-It was confusing, but when they kept talking, explaining how they got lost and magically taken to your world and all that nonsense – you decided to leave and go back to your stronghold with your dire wolves.

-You did not care listening to someone’s sob story, especially from someone who probably hit their head harder than the damned that lay dead beneath your feet. 

-However, you did not expect the elf to follow you home. 

-You could have chased them off, but since you did not have the energy and they didn’t pose a threat, you didn’t bother. 

-But by the Nameless god, they were annoying. 

-They were constantly asking questions and telling you about Middle Earth, orcs, and all kinds of gibberish that did not exist in your world. 

-But, you remember your manners from when you still lived in the capital and offered them some leek soup and refreshments. You listened to their story with an annoyed smile as you both sat at the bonfire. 

-You wanted them to leave when the night came, but you took pity on them and doubted they would survive the night, so you prepared them a quick mat and allowed them to sleep in your storage house. 

-You did not have space anywhere else, and you did not trust them enough to let them sleep in the same house as you, so they shall have the storage house. 

-The next day, you prepared some food and started making fabric and smelting copper in your workshop. 

-The elf walked into your workshop and watched you work on multiple things with minimal effort, leaving them impressed. 

-They were even more surprised when you told them you built everything in your stronghold by hand. You did not have money or people to buy your supplies from, so you had to make everything yourself. 

-They asked about you and your life, and you told them little about yourself and how you got exiled from your home because of the plague. 

-They felt pity, but you told them not to pity because pity brought nothing in Plaguelands. 

-When you prepared for the next trip, you allowed them to stay if they made some materials for you, and they agreed since they had nowhere else to go. 

-They told you they had experience in the forge, so you were satisfied with it because it meant more metal and weapons. 

-They bid you good luck on your trip and worked in your workshop till the night came. They waited for you to come back, but there was no sight of you. 

-They were worried because you told them you would be back before nightfall, but they tried to have faith and waited till they decided to go to sleep and see if you were back in the morning. 

-The next day, they were startled when you suddenly walked out of your house with nothing but undergarments and a pissed-off look on your face. 

-When they asked why you didn’t come back before nightfall, you explained you got killed during your trip, thus why you couldn’t come back early. 

-They were baffled by your answer, so you then explained you and other exiles suffered a curse that allowed you to come back from the dead, and you always come back with nothing because your dead body was rotting elsewhere.

-You already got over the point of being shocked, so you were more mad about losing your stuff, especially all the fine materials you found. 

-Your elf guest didn’t know how to progress the information, especially when you did not even look bothered by your unnatural condition. 

-They slowly began to adapt to your lifestyle. They helped you around the house, worked in your workshop, and cared for your wounds whenever you came back. 

-They have also decided to take it upon themselves to make you new clothes after learning sewing from you. You told them clothes got easily torn in Plaguelands, and it was common to see exiles running around half-naked because sometimes they just don't want to waste resources. So your elf guest decided to ensure you would have clothing to wear whenever you came back from your trips or the dead. 

- They were not used to seeing people walking casually around half-naked and were not planning to get used to it now. 

-Your lack of clothing was most likely one of the reasons why your skin was always so pale and cold. 

-You told them you were already used to the cold climate, so it didn't bother you if you didn’t have any clothing. You were grateful for their thoughtfulness– thought, so you made sure there was enough fabric to make clothes. 

-Your three dire wolves grew to like them a lot. 

-They were a bit wary but soon got comfortable when your elf guest fed them and cared for their injuries. 

-You were grateful and happy that they got along. You found it funny whenever your dire wolves wanted your elf guest’s attention. They would sometimes follow your guest around, nibbling for treats and barking at them to play. 

-You decided to teach your elf guest a little about your world, showing them the scrolls and books you collected over the years. You also showed them monsters and people they should avoid when going out. 

-They listened and decided to tag along on your trips, helping you gather materials and fight monsters. They had excellent fighting skills, so you were impressed. 

-You always took them home before nightfall or made sure they always stood near a light source. They learned the hard way about the Nightguest, and the encounter left them frightened and anxious, especially when you told them there was no way to kill the Nightguest. 

-There was only one way to keep it away, and it was light, so they made sure the fire burned in the bonfires whenever you were on a night trip. 

-They were helpful when it came to talking with people. You always hated to talk, so you were happy just to stand in the background as your elf companion did the talking. 

-But when some people decide to criticize your companion and throw insults, you interfere and deal with them aggressively and destroy their things to make their survival even more difficult. 

-You’re petty when you deal with people, but for your elf companion, you went so extreme that it surprised you. 

-That’s when you realized you cared about them more than you thought. It made you weary because growing attachments was dangerous in Plaguelands. 

-But you stopped caring and started seeing them as a friend. You began to enjoy your life with them. 

-They were an excellent cook. Whenever you returned from your trips, you would smell new aromas that would make your mouth water and your stomach rumble with newfound hunger. 

-You would wander to your cooking area and find your elven friend cooking something delicious in the pot. 

-When your elven friend allowed you to taste the food, your tongue would feel like flying because, by the three gods, you have never tasted something so good in your whole life. 

-Their food would beat the leek soup and the steak, so you would keep your food storage full, so they could continue cooking for you. 

-When you had enough supplies and weapons, you allowed your elf companion to visit the dungeon with you, but after several fights with the inhabitants and nearly getting killed by the Desecrators and Damned knights. You decided not to take them on trips that were more life-threatening than the usual ones. 

-You might be able to come back from the dead, but there was no certainty they could, and you did not want to lose your first friend in years.

-They luckily didn’t decide to protest and gladly remained at your stronghold. They were left shaken after visiting the dungeon and couldn't believe you had faced those kinds of creatures all by yourself before they came into the picture. 

-They were confident you could take on a Balrog without a sweat. 

-You comforted them not to think about it much. Things might seem unnatural and inhumane to them, but to you – they were expected since you had several years of experience. 

-Orcs and dark lords might cause chaos in their world, but in your world, everything was chaos. 

-Your elf friend grew to respect you, but they would also feel sadness and anger toward those who left you to survive in infested lands. Your life was cruel madness, and it was a surprise you still managed to hold on to your sanity. 

-After living together for some time, you decided to build them their own room in your stronghold and gave them a dire wolf pup you found during one of your trips. 

-Your elf friend felt honored and promised to cherish the little wolfing.

-You tried to help your elf friend to find a way back to their home. You looked for all the books around the Plaguelands and questioned people who had more dealings with magic and other worldly matters. 

-Your search didn’t bore a lot of fruit, but with your elf friend by your side, you got closer to your goal every day. 

-You two grew to trust each other. You’re protective of your elf friend since you never knew when fate would become cruel and take them away from you.  You dreaded the day when you finally figured out a way for them to their world, but till then – you cherished the life you had with them by your side until it was time to say goodbye. 

-You were unaware that your precious elf friend was planning to take you and your dire wolves with them so you could finally stop living in madness and find peace within their world.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Lovely M! Your requests are open! So I was wondering if you would mind writing a lil something for my favourite wolf boi (or Celegorm!) With the prompt "jousting"

I'm feeling something comedic, but I'm ultimately leaving the vibe up to you

As always, you're welcome to make it lemon-y sour if you would like, preferably fem!reader, and maybe set in the normal time frame or thereabouts

Thanks in advance if you decide to write this! <3

Right. Since you prefer the normal time frame, how about Celegorm learning to joust somewhere in Middle-Earth?

This won’t be smut, but I’ve added some NSFW elements all the same.

“Little game”

Pairing: Celegorm x Fem. Reader (Mortal | second person POV) | Location: Middle-Earth / Himlad | Prompt: Joust

Themes : Soft | NSFW

Warnings : Kissing | Teasing | Innuendo | Use of a weapon (Lance)

Word count: 1.2k words

Summary: Celegorm is frustrated after not having mastered the lance quickly enough.  

Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

"My lord! That is not how you couch a lance!"

Celegorm closed his eyes and groaned in frustration. Here he was, a son of Fëanor, a student of none other than the great hunter Oromë himself, failing to wield what was, to all intents and purposes, a heavy stick with a blunted end.

"This is cumbersome!" He complained, "and wholly unsuitable! I insist you hand me my sword immediately!"

"No." You took your time walking to the end of the sparring field, where a straw target was already mounted onto a pivot. "You wanted to learn, my lord. Now learn. Come now," you said, tugging at the straps, the shield, and the leather war-hammer stuffed with tufts of wool. "Surely you, a son of Fëanor, are not admitting defeat."

Celegorm narrowed his eyes, the tips of his ears flushing red and twitching in anger. "Hold your tongue, woman."

"Hold it?" Wicked humor fills your eyes. "What a shame, for I thought you dearly loved it when I swirled my tongue around the tip of yo…"

"Enough!" Red-cheeked, embarrassed, and more than a little inflamed, Celegorm gave you a cheeky grin. "Enough. Very well. Teach me how to couch this wretched thing." 

You helped him with his grip and the angle of his aim. "Lean forward in your saddle," you counseled. "It will help with your balance. Keep your eye on the target. Extend your arm fully just before striking. The speed of your horse will do the rest."

Celegorm listened and took your advice to heart. He held the lance firmly, tucking it under his arm for support. You backed away when he dug his heels into his horse, and it broke into a gallop, racing towards the straw target with all the speed it could muster, its hooves tearing up the grassy earth beneath it. Celegorm waited until the right time, just as he was told. He extended his arm and released, just as he was told. The blunted end struck the shield square in the center. Celegorm hooted in triumph, then howled in agony when the target spun like a top and the stuffed war-hammer struck him square on the back. You ran to him as soon as it happened, alarm coursing through your body. 

"My lord!" You cried. "My lord, are you hurt?"

"Just my blasted pride," Celegorm answers quickly, ridding himself of the lance. It fell to the earth with a soft thud. "Tell me. How old are mortal children when they acquire skill with this weapon?"

"Ten and six for most, my lord," you replied, pausing. "If they are strong enough to wield it." 

"Ten and six." Celegorm sputtered in disbelief. "Eru save me. And how old were you?"

"The same age or thereabouts. Some are deadly with the lance by the time they reach that age."

"Deadly with it." Celegorm stammered again, ashamed that an elf should struggle to master a weapon. "If my brothers learn of this, I will not hear the end of their teasing."

"All the more reason for you to practice," you reply. You had heard of Celegorm's brothers and how they competed against each other. You felt for him. "But enough for today. We will start again tomorrow."

Celegorm dismounted and walked with you back to the tower house he had come to call home, to the chambers that gave him some peace. Once safely ensconced in his bedroom, you helped him undress.

"You said you were unhurt!" you exclaimed. An angry bruise had formed, just beneath his shoulder blades. "Pray give me a moment. I have a balm for it."

"No." Celegorm crawled onto his featherbed, biting back a helpless whimper. "Leave it be for now. Come, lay beside me a little."

The world outside changed and darkened. Golden light gave way to the dark, the animals of the night, and the full moon. Torches came to life, their light chasing away the gloom. A dog barked just beneath the open window. Someone shouted orders. 

Celgorm was silent, brooding over his failure. You propped yourself on your elbow. "How are you, truly?"

He turned to face you, his rich blue eyes half-hidden in shadow.

"Ashamed," he confessed. "I am an elf, one who was born in Valinor, and a prince of the Noldor besides. And yet I struggle to master a weapon." 

"This was only your third day, my lord." You reached out and brushed stray locks of golden hair out of his eyes. "There is no shame in not mastering a skill so soon."

"Yes, but mortal children do. By the time they are ten and six!"

"Because our world is more dangerous, we have no other choice. Do not fret, my lord. You will be unhorsing the best of them before long."

The games, or jousts, as the Edain called it were something they devised to train and prepare hopeful warriors. Celegorm had heard of it, after establishing a lordship for himself in Himlad. Those from amongst the Edain would ride against each other, seeking honor, gold, and glory, companions to shower them with all manner of favors. He was told the next games would be held on another turn of the moon. There was still enough time for him to learn. Celegorm grew more hopeful. 

"Yes," he decided. "I will be ready then. Now, what shall we do to pass the time?"

You wrinkle your brow. "Read, perhaps? Shall I call for some candles?"

"No." Celegorm sat up, shaking his head, and said, "No. I am not in the mood to read."

"No books?" you said, tilting your head to the side and smiling slowly. "How about a game of dice, then? It is all the fashion now."

"As my brother Curufin would tell you," Celegorm said gravely, "I should be allowed nowhere near a game of dice. Or any game of chance, for that matter." 

You smiled and sat up straight. This was all just part of a little game that both of you played every night without fail. Celegorm would fuss, you would offer other amusements, and Celegorm would fuss again. The game inevitably ended in fits of laughter and passionate embraces. 

"Hmmm." You narrowed your eyes in mock concentration. "No books and no games of chance. How about some music, then?" 

Celegorm's eyes blazed then. "Oh yes. I know just the music I want to hear now, and only you can provide it."

The true meaning of what he said was not lost on you. You made yourself look sober and grave, and replied thus: "You commanded me to hold my tongue, my lord, and I am not one to ignore such commands. Because of this, you will have no music from me."

Celegorm clapped his hand over his heart. "Oh!" He lamented. "Would you forgive me for my careless command, sweet y/n? How can I atone for it? Should I plead? Go to my knees? Abase myself like a lowly creature before my wounded love?" 

It was hard to remain stern after his little display. You laughed, in small burps at first, before breaking into fits of it. 

"You, my lord, are impossible." You leaned forward and kissed him. Celegorm slid his arms around you, his sweet breath leaving you dizzy and weak. "But I am glad you are mine."

"As I am glad you are mine," Celegorm laid back down, taking you with him. "Now come, loosen that beautiful tongue for me."

[doodle-pops]

Elrond With A Modern Medical!Reader in Valinor

Request: Not sure if this is fic or just headcanons but: Modern!reader in middle earth who was a neurosurgeon in her old life and is now in Valinor working with Elrond to translate medical concepts to elven language before she dies and help advance their medical practice. Some differences between elven and human biology are found out in the process, it’s all quite fascinating to them both. She assists in a few operations but I imagine they don’t have many surgical operations to do in times of peace because people just aren’t getting injured like they used to during the famed battles against Morgoth and Sauron in middle earth. She helps on occasion but them elves are graceful and not injury-prone. - Anon

A/N: I was having trouble turning this into a fic, and since you gave me the option, not minding if I did a headcanon, I went with the latter. I had fun writing this, I also made their relationship ambiguous. Enjoy!

When you happen to arrive in Valinor, dazed by its eternal beauty and tranquillity, Elrond, with all his calming presence and wise demeanour was the first to greet and help you settle down. He was kind to welcome you into his new home.

During your time there, you and Elrond spend countless hours in his extensive library, trying to translate complex medical texts and concepts into Quenya, while he marvels at the intricacies of human detail in neurosurgery. To him, the ability to heal the brain by getting so practical and up close was fascinating.

“You humans certainly love your precision and details,” he would say as he smiled while reading through a description of a delicate brain surgery. You on the other hand would laugh and tell him that not all humans are so meticulous, following up your comment by sharing more medical mishaps from your world.

It is when you discover the biological differences between elves and humans, that things in the work become all the more interesting. You discover that elves’ regenerative abilities allow for healing preparations to be cut down and rushed to the healing wing, unimportant. Just knowing this, leaves you speechless as he casually mentions recovering from an injury that would have left a human incapacitated.

“So you’re telling me that you can heal from a stab wound in a matter of days?” you ask, incredulously with jealousy lingering. Elrond would simply nod along with a serene smile as he continued to translate the prewritten text on the paper you provided. “I wish I had that. Would have saved me all those trips to the ER.”

Assisting in medical practices in Valinor is rare but rewarding. Elrond’s precise, yet holistic approach to medicine complements your surgical expertise perfectly. Together, you manage to save a few elves who came in with nasty injuries, mostly from hunting trips gone bad.

As time passes, you are further blown away when Elrond teaches you their famous art of healing through song and rare herbs, enchanting your understanding of medicine. You do find the elves’ ability to enter healing trances particularly fascinating.

“So you just…sing them better? Like kumbaya and poof! Healed?!” you asked one day as you attempted to wrap your head around the concept, prompting Elrond to chuckle. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

As time passes, your collaboration deepens both your understanding and respect for each other’s knowledge and expertise. Elrond is continually impressed but your surgical and modern techniques, while you are captivated by the elves’ natural form of advanced healing practices. This welcomed late nights in the library often turning into philosophical discussions as Elrond is thrilled by your stories of modern technology, and you are equally captivated by his tales of Middle-Earth.

You even meet a few of his family members during your stay as words of another human dwelling in Valinor. “Wait, you all fought a literal Balrog? Those fiery beasts?” you asked one evening as you sat around a table chatting with those who encountered the creature. “If you all were in my world, you could have used a fire extinguisher to put the flames out, or just douse water on them.” You leave most of them in laughter and confusion.

Due to meeting other elves beside him, you get the opportunity to practice your healing methods on them, though, they rarely allow you to since they usually appear fine even when injured. “So you couldn’t have hit your head a little harder for me to have something to examine instead of magically healing?” you disappointedly asked one of Elrond’s family members.

That has been the relationship for most of the encounters when an elf decides to come in sporting an ‘injury’. “You said you cracked your skull four days ago while hunting but I’m not seeing any injury. Do you mind if I hit you so I can have an actual injury to work with?”

Like you, even Elrond has his moments of being light-hearted, despite his dry sense of humour, when things don’t go according to plan. If the technique is too complex, he’ll jokingly say, “Of course, if all else fails, we just use magic.” Of course, you blink at him wondering if he was being serious or joking.

The partnership between you and Elrond as your work in Valinor developed certain areas of elven magical was tedious but also worthwhile. Even the relationship between you brought each other comfort and upliftment. “I suppose I’ll be remembered as the strange human who brought surgical scalpels to the Blessed Realm and threatened to beat people in their heads,” you joked.

Elrond usual response is filled with a sense of gratitude as he makes a toast in your honour. “You will be remembered as a pioneer and someone we are grateful to have encountered. I am glad you were brought here,” he fondly cheered.

Even as your time in Valinor progresses, you and Elrond continue to explore new ways to incorporate your medical practices into their elven healing. Each time an elf stops by for healing, you sometimes have to threaten them to come in with noticeable head injuries or you’d give them, while other times, you are lucky to have something to deal with. At least, during your years there, you managed to get a lot done.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @aconstructofamind @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life

[the-really-lonely-mountain]

Along for the ride, to Erebor - Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the first part for the second movie.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too detailed, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), this chapter is domestic as hell, sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it

Word Count: 4,977

A/N: Hey y'all!! It's been a crazy couple of months let me tell ya! good god! I've decided to finally post the next part of the story to tumblr despite it not having been beta read. I'll use you guys as my guinea pigs lol so if you see anything that doesn't make sense or is spelled wrong, I'm begging you to please tell me. I can't wait to hear what you think about my pride and joy! <3

Image credit: @iamjaynaemarie

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

The company climbed down the tall rock into the forest below. Having rested on the long flight over, everyone was prepared for a day of walking. Nothing notable happened except innocent conversation to pass the time and the forging of grapes with Bilbo for a snack.

The sun dipped closer to the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. Thorin found a small river to make camp nearby. Gloin made the fire then Bombur started cooking the food. While the stew was being made, Fili and Kili practiced their swordsmanship under the watchful eyes of Thorin and Dwalin to provide guidance. The dwarves had found a log and brought it over beside the fire. You knelt in the grass on the fire’s side parallel to the log. The others were leaning against it on the opposite side, smoking pipes and making jokes and commentary about the training. You pulled out your thread spools and measured out the first color. You realized you didn’t have scissors and asked the merry gathering in front of you if they did.

“Nah lass,” Dori said, “Our weapons aren’t sharp enough to cut thread, they’ll only fray it” He kicked Nori to quiet him when he started to protest the quality of his weapons, “You’ll want to ask Thorin to borrow his sword.”

You swallowed thickly and looked over at the man in question where he stood with his arms crossed next to Dwalin. He always intimated you but approaching him alone to ask a favor made anxiety spike straight through you.

They were several feet away, but the clanging of metal was still quite loud. The brothers had removed their shirts, as men often did, to escape the insulated heat it provided. Not that you were complaining, eye candy is always welcome in a world of forests and furs.

You timidly approached the taller man as he instructed the brothers. You waited till they started fighting again to say in a shy voice: “Um Thorin?”

He glanced at you to acknowledge your inquisition, “Yes, what is it?” He sounded impatient.

“May I please borrow your sword?” You pointed to the weapon strapped to his side, “I need it to cut some thread” You tried not to sound as scared and skittish as you felt. He looked at you blankly for a moment, surprised by your question.

Kili threw his brother back several feet, allowing him a few seconds to turn to you with a confident smile.

“Hey Y/N,” Kili said, making you and Thorin look at him. You couldn’t help but smile and sheepishly blush as you tried not to ogle his ripped upper body dripping in sweat.

“Hi Kili” you swayed back and forth a little without realizing it. Thorin took note of your fond reaction to his nephew.

Fili let out a mighty roar as he jumped on the back of his brother, taking advantage of his distraction. The dwarves on the log laughed and you giggled at them as they goaded each other on.

“I’ve got you now brother!” Fili triumphantly exclaimed.

“I think not!” Kili replied with a strong thrusting attack.

Thorin sighed, “Very well” He untied his sheathed sword from his belt and handed it to you. You thanked him and began walking back to your previous spot. He looked at the line of dwarves who were still chuckling lightly against the log, “Make sure she doesn’t kill herself” he said to them. They all nodded, including Balin who found this ironic remembering their conversation about leaving you in Rivendell. It would seem the dwarf king was taking a liking to you.

You kneeled, unsheathed the great Goblin Cleaver a few inches, and positioned the hilt between your knees, so it stayed standing on its spine. You measured 7 lengths of thread at about three feet and rubbed them against the fine elfin blade which cut them in one pass to make makeshift embroidery thread. You repeated that 5 times to end up with two groups of pink, two groups of blue, and one group of black thread. You did your best to keep them separated as you bunched them together to fold them in half and tie a loop at the end that you could hook onto a button of your coat. You sheathed the sword and returned it to Thorin knowing he wouldn’t like being without his weapon. You sat on the side of the log with everyone else and secured your coat in your lap so you could pull taught against the threads. You separated the threads and began knotting them over and across each other like how you learned to make friendship bracelets at summer camp. It gave your hands something to do as you sat idly watching the boys trash talk then turn serious and start fighting again.

“What are ya makin’ Y/N?” Ori asked as he watched you.

“I’m making a bracelet” You replied, pleased to see the others taking an interest in your crafting.

“Why’s that lass?” Bifur leaned over to see what you were doing exactly.

“So I can eventually make one for everyone else” You explained how it’s a tradition of sorts in your world to make bracelets for those you care about as a show of kinship and the enduring strength of your friendship and bond. “Since I can’t fight beside you all on the battlefield yet, I thought this could be another way I show my commitment to the company” You smiled at the group. You’d grown very fond of them during your travels and hoped they enjoyed your company as much as you did theirs.

“That’s a very sweet tradition, Y/N,” Balin said, “We look forward to receiving your gifts” The rest of the dwarves confirmed it with ‘Aye’s and a strong nod of the head.

“Supper!” Bombur called while stirring the pot. Everyone got in line except the training group who was going one last round. You all sat down in your previous spots along the log to see the finale of the night’s training.

You finished your dinner quickly so you could take advantage of the distracted troublemakers as well as the river on the other side of the hill. You grabbed your bag and told Gandalf you were going to the river to wash up. You knew he’d keep an eye on the dwarf who often followed you like a puppy and missed you when you weren’t by his side.

You see, Kili had to share most of his things with his brother; toys, motherly attention, food, and this included the women he was interested in. They usually fell for Fili because he was more mature, older, and looked more dwarfish than Kili who had very fine features for a dwarf and was five years younger than his brother. He initially assumed it would happen again with you, so when you didn’t show any interest in his brother, only in him, he couldn’t put into words how happy it made him.

At the river’s edge, you placed your bag and makeshift towel (your shirt from your old world) on a rock and took off your clothes. The water was chilly but nothing a sit by the fire couldn’t fix. You washed your hair and body with the elfish soap you got in Rivendell. As you rinsed in the steady current of the water your thoughts began to wander to what Gandalf said about your predicament.

You felt pulled to Kili, he brought comfort and calmness to a feeling you didn’t even know was in need. His smile and his laugh, every memory and moment you made and shared with the handsome prince of Erebor begged you to stay in Middle Earth.

It was decided then.

When you stood to squeeze the water from your hair you noticed the sun was beginning to set. The others would want to bathe too, or at the very least wash their hands. You dried off and dressed and took a deep breath to enjoy the welcomed privacy one last time.

You reappeared beside the wizard, “Thank you, Gandalf, that was very much needed” You sat next to him on the ground in front of the fire to warm up. “I may be traveling with brutes, but I needn’t smell like one” You joked. He chuckled over his pipe at this.

“I’ve decided to stay here Gandalf.” You informed him. “Something about this place is calling me to stay.” You needn’t tell him about the intense pull to Kili, right?

“Splendid my dear,” He smiled fondly at your decision. “I’m sure you’ll find Middle earth rather agreeable.”

You smiled up at him, happy to have his support.

The boys were still going at it. Kili was making a great effort, but Fili got the upper hand, making Kili’s sword fly out of his hand and sail through the air to stick in the ground. Kili kept fighting though, trying to get Fili’s sword from him. Fili had to force him to the ground with his arms pinned before Kili surrendered.

“Good job lads, good work,” Thorin said as he helped them up. Coins were exchanged against the log from the bets the company members made. The boys started walking towards their bags, but Kili swerved at the last moment to approach you. Your hair was still slightly damp from the river, so it was obvious you’d just bathed. Being the mischievous sweaty dirt-covered mess he was, Kili held his arms out to you for a hug. You watched him in horror as he continued to walk towards you.

“Ew, no Kili stop!” You held your hand up to stop him but to no avail.

“Awe Y/N, just one hug?” Kili pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

You quickly stood and laugh a little at his persistence, “Don’t you fucking dare!” you said and dashed away.

“Come on Y/N, no need to play hard to get!” Kili strained as he chased you around the log and back toward your bags.

“Aaahh!” You made a sharp turn to narrowly avoid a grimy Fili, who stepped in your path, the little shit. This closed the gap so Kili could grab your arm and pull you toward him.

“Nonononononono!” you pleaded as he wrapped his beefy arms around your shoulders, making sure to rub his sweaty dirty face against your hair and pet the side of your face with his equally dirty hand. “Kili!” you drew out the last syllable in complaint.

“You smell so good” He had the nerve to say.

“You smell like Ori’s unwashed socks!” You pushed at his chest still trying to get away. Everyone chuckled at this. “Get off me, ya big olaf” you managed to wriggle out of his grasp, “I’m not coming anywhere near you till you bathe,” you said dead serious, and pointed to the river.

“As you wish” Kili bowed with a smirk, he grabbed his bag on his way to the river to join his brother. You sat in your by the fire with a small smile that seemed permanent whenever you were around him.

You were working on your bracelet when the brothers returned. The sun had dipped below the horizon making darkness seep into the crevasses of the world. Kili sat behind you on the same long stone Gandalf was perched on and touched the ends of your miraculously dry hair (the elvish soap is magic idk). You stiffened at the unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome contact.

“Can I braid your hair Y/N?” he asked innocently as pink dusted his cheeks. You whipped around aggressively, pulling your hair out of his hand in the process.

“No cause you’re just going to get it all tangled and I’m going to have to spend all night brushing it out!” You weren’t looking forward to that, you thought he was just trying to prank you. Kili’s pout was as cute as ever.

“My dear,” Gandalf budded in before Kili could sulk away, “Braiding hair in dwarfish culture is similar to your tradition of making bracelets for friends, but they take it much more seriously.”

“How much more seriously?” You asked, intrigued about the nature of Kili proposition.

“It’s like…” The wizard took a draw from his pipe while he thought of the words to properly explain it to you, “asking someone to dance, it’s special and a more intimate way of getting to know someone.”

“So, like a date?” You tilted your head in question. You understood his analogy; braiding allows both people to show their level of craftsmanship and commitment, with the added benefit of practicality and looking very nice in the end when done with love and care.

“A bit” Gandalf smiled at your naiveite, “Just know our dear Kili is not trying to prank you when he asks to braid your hair, quite the opposite” He took another draw from his pipe and looked back at the fire.

“In that case, you may braid my hair Kee” You flipped your hair back over your shoulder. You couldn’t see the beaming smile that grew on his handsome face. You dug through your bag to find the hairbrush and other trinkets from Rivendell which you handed to Kili. He kept them in his lap while he brushed your hair. If he came across a knot, he was sure to be incredibly gentle. You enjoyed the physical contact and attention very much.

“Any requests?” He asked sounding confident in his abilities.

“Whatever you think would look best” You couldn’t help but smile a little.

He used your brush to part your hair down the middle. He started braiding at your nape closest to the part. After that you didn’t pay very much attention to what he was doing, instead just relished the experience.

He finished one side and secured it with a bead from your stash, “How’s that feel, too tight?”, he asked and adjusted pieces here and there to make it lay perfectly.

“It feels great!” You chirped happily. You reached a hand to feel what he’d done so far but he shooed it away.

“Not yet, you’ll ruin the surprise!” He started working on the other side.

By the time he was done, you were so relaxed you’d almost fallen asleep on his leg.

“Done!” he said, you could tell he was very pleased with his work, “How do you like it?” He sounded a bit nervous.

You ran your fingers over the braids, feeling how they turned and curved at certain points and went straight in others.

“Kili this is amazing!” You said, very happy with the state of your hair. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you!” You looked back at him with a smile that was as big as his.

“I’m afraid I can't properly reciprocate though, I don’t know how to braid hair like this, I can only do normal braids.” You regretted never having learned how to French braid now more than ever. “If that’s how this works” You quickly corrected in a slight panic.

He was elated you wanted to return his deed at all, “That’s fine!” He tried not to sound too excited and be cool about it, “I can teach you if you want” he offered.

“I’d appreciate that!” You smiled.

You switched places, so he was sitting between your legs facing the fire. The position was innocent, but his thoughts were anything but. Images of your face beautifully contorted in pleasure from his tongue exploring your most private and intimate parts were most welcomed.

“May I take this out?” you lightly touched the silver clip that held his hair out of his face.

“Sure” He happily shrugged. You dug through his brown hair where the clasp was supposed to be, but your trembling hands couldn’t find it in all his hair.

After he heard you huffing and puffing and hadn’t felt his hair fall from the clip he asked in a soft voice, “Do you need help?”

“Yes,” you sighed, embarrassed you couldn’t even get a damn clip undone. He reached back, and struggled for a few seconds but undid the clasp, and handed it to you.

While you brushed his hair you thought of what you should do to it, or more what you could do with his hair given your limited abilities. You brushed through a few knots if any.

“I think I know what I want to try to do,” You touched the sides of his head just above his temple, “I want to do two small braids on the sides of your head, but I want the topmost part of your hair not to be braided.”

“Let’s try it!” He explained how you needed to part the hair and how to get started. You had his head lying against your thigh in an admittedly awkward and uncomfortable position, but he was quite the trooper. You had to restart the first braid three times but, in the end, he talked you through it and you tied it off with a bead.

“How did you learn to braid so well” you asked, struggling to grip all the pieces of the second braid properly and not pull the strands out of his head.

“My mother was insistent I learned. She knew my brother would have no trouble learning this facet of courting, but she feared I would spend all my time shooting arrows and never learn how to properly court girls.” He talked fondly of the memories, “So one summer when I was about to come of age, I came home from running amuck every day and she’d sit me down at her tapestry’s and make me braid the tassels that ran around the border.”

“Were you any good?” You asked curiously.

“Oh yes, I was very good! For a while, I was even better than Fili!” He was very proud of that.

“Why did he get better than you? Lean forward please,” you politely asked.

“He’s quite the lady’s man, so he had plenty of girls to practice on,” Kili sounded like that brought up memories that weren’t very pleasant. You finished the second braid with a bead like the first.

“Lay your head down for me again” You softly asked, gingerly guiding his head to lay against your other thigh, “Awe, baby Kili didn’t get any coochie did he” You fake pouted to tease him, gently scratching his scalp absentmindedly while you rested your neck for a moment. He liked it, more than he’d care to admit. “I’m in the same boat I’m afraid” You parted the other side of his hair.

“Oh? How so?” He was very surprised by this, “I’d have thought men were practically throwing themselves at you.” This made you laugh and blush.

“I’m awfully flattered you think that highly of me…” You took a moment to focus on a particularly difficult part, “But men from my world didn’t talk to me.”

“I find that completely unbelievable.” He was floored by this.

“I’m serious! I was never asked out on a date and the few times I asked for someone’s number they turned out to be self-centered losers with a ton of issues” You hated how much time you’d wasted on them. He couldn’t wrap his head around that and had to hold his tongue from proclaiming his thoughts of your perfection.

He turned to look at you despite your protests, “Then they are truly blind,” He couldn’t have been more sincere. His eyes blazed in the firelight with a mix of ferocity and sadness on your behalf.

“Thank you, Kee,” You smiled at him. He assumed his previous position so you could end the braid with a bead like the two before and then started on the last one, “And those silly girls are truly blind as well.” You wanted to kiss his slightly flushed cheek.

You were both in your own little world, where the troubles of the outside couldn’t get to you…or the onlookers and peanut gallery for that matter. Gandalf had moved to sit with the company who had been watching from across the fire on the other side of the log since Kili finished your first braid. They couldn’t quite hear your conversation, but they knew their beloved Kili was having the time of his life.

Fili was very proud of his brother. He talked about you all the time, was looking at you all the time; the man was whipped. Fili had to hear about you the entire time he was bathing, poor thing, and he finally got fed up with his brother not making a move.

“Kili, just ask to braid her hair for god’s sake” Fili huffed while he waited for his brother to finish in the river. Kili’s eyes lit up like a forge with the breath from bellows, and his face flushed like he did when he hammered out a new blade.

“I think I will,” Kili nodded, distracted by thoughts of engaging in such an informal and somewhat intimate act.

Thorin was very pleased you were trying to repay his nephew’s advances in equal measure. He’d seen the poor boy flounder with crushes in the past as he tended to be immature, and girls mistook that for uncaring and unable to provide. Something about you brought out the best in his nephew though, he’d never seen him act so mature, for this Thorin was willing to stay some of his distrust and pessimistic opinions about outsiders, at the very least about you.

By the time you finished the last braid, Kili had made himself very comfortable against your leg, with his arm wrapped around your calf, fidgeting with the laces of your boot. He looked so tranquil you hesitated to tell him you’d finished, not ready to leave the sanctuary you were in. You leaned back against your hand while you stared into the fire and gently scratched the nape of his neck.

He hummed half asleep, “Mmm that feels good,” His words were a little slurred, but it made him all the cuter.

You stayed like that till your bottom began to protest the hard rock beneath you. He was right on the cusp of sleep when you shook your leg beneath him, gentle with guilt.

“Kili, I gotta get up,” You softly tried to rouse him. He hummed in protest. “Besides, don’t you want to know how the braids turned out?” You admired your work with pride.

He sat up and stretched to wake his muscles then ran a hand over his new braids, “Wow Y/N! These are so good!” He looked back at you impressed, “You picked up on that fast!”

“Thanks, Kee!” You blushed as you ran a hand over the intricate lines in your hair, “They aren’t half as good as yours, but I think I did great for my first time” You smiled, pleased with yourself.

“Come show us!” someone from the log called, followed by various iterations of the same thing from others. Ever supportive, they were eager to see what you’d both made.

Kili stood and you followed him to the log. You turned so he could show off his creation. The dwarves were very impressed, a few coming up to inspect closer. When Kili turned to show your work, the company was even more impressed given it was your first time.

“Next time you’ll have to make beads for her, Kee” Fili teased making him and Bofur laugh at how Kili blushed.

“Make beads? What does that mean?” You asked the group in confusion.

“You’ll understand when the time comes,” Thorin said in an uncharacteristically happy tone. “For now, we shall rest” With that everyone began prepping their bedding for the night.

You laid your bed roll beside Kili’s like usual, but Bombur reminded you to clean the dishes before they were put away. Gandalf accompanied you so you could see with the light of his staff. Everyone was asleep when you returned to camp, except Thorin who was on watch.

When you sat on your bedroll, which was naturally next to Kili’s, he looked up at you, barely awake with a dopey smile.

“You look so pretty,” he said quietly, drawing out the last syllable of pretty. Red bloomed over your cheeks and down your neck. He loved your hair like that, he loved it even more that he was the one who did it.

“Go to sleep, Kee,” You whispered so you didn’t wake the others, but couldn’t help but smile as you lay on your bedroll next to him.

“But then I can’t look at you” He pouted, quite distraught about this revelation in his sleepy daze.

“Well, no, I suppose you can’t…” You nibbled your bottom lip as you thought of a solution, “Would holding hands appease you, sleepy prince?” you asked and held out the hand that wasn’t cuddling your coat to your chest. He was too out of it to catch your nickname for him. He nodded and held your hand in his, making both your hearts beat just a little faster.

You closed your eyes and rubbed your face against your coat to find a comfortable position. You could feel his eyes on you.

You opened your eyes to see him staring directly at you, “Good night, Kili” you said in a strong nonnegotiable tone.

He hummed and smiled and closed his eyes, “Good night, Y/N.”

~~~

Kili felt your hand grow tighter around his, drawing him from sleep. Then he felt you pulling against it like you were trying to alert him to danger in the camp without making a sound. He opened his eyes ready for war and saw no danger. He looked at you confused but realized you weren’t awake. You were whimpering and mumbling as your head thrashed from side to side.

‘She’s having a nightmare’ he quickly thought. He squeezed your hand and gently shook it.

“Y/N” He tried not to let his worry raise the volume of his voice, “Wake up.”

You didn’t respond, your mumbles turned into clear pleas for help, making him fret even more.

“Y/N!” He shook your shoulder vehemently, “You need to wake up” He had an urgency in his voice. You feebly fought against his hold on your shoulder.

“Please!” you gasped, still breaking from the nightmare when you opened your eyes, “No, please let go!” You begged and continued to push against his hand with tears in your eyes, not knowing who he was while sleep still clouded your vision and mind.

“Y/N, Y/N look at me” he moved his hand from your shoulder to the side of your neck and cheek to call your attention to him, “It was just a dream, you’re safe now.” When you met his eyes, he recognized just how rattled you were.

You were breathing rapidly, and tears were making your eyelashes sparkle in the firelight. He could feel your rapid heartbeat where his hand laid over your pulse point. He could tell you were beginning to wake up because you softly uttered his name and the hand that was fighting his on your neck gently wrapped around his wrist.

“You’re safe, I promise,” His eyebrows were pinched together in worry. You nodded and took a deep breath to try to keep the tears away. It’d been a very long time since you’d had a nightmare that bad.

Kili pulled your bedroll closer to his, “Come here,” He gave you a hug to comfort you, “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked when you pulled back from the hug too look at him. You laid your head on his upper arm and kept your cuddle coat close to your chest.

“I-I was in a forest at night and there were goblins and orcs and Wargs coming to attack me and-” You were talking quickly, the bad dream still too real, “and I was all alone and I couldn’t defend myself…” You trailed off, the waver in your voice making it hard to talk. “I was so scared, Kili,” You tried to curl into yourself.

“Hey hey hey, look at me” He held the side of your face again, “You’re safe,” he said. You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d never let anything happen to you, aye?” He promoted you to get you out of your head. You took another deep breath and nodded.

“I’m ok” you repeated “I’m ok.”

“Yes, there ya go!” He nodded, relieved you were coming around. His thumb swept over your cheek to wipe a tear. You took a few minutes to calm down. Kili was falling asleep, but he needed to know you were going to be ok.

“Thank you, Kee,” you said, your whispered voice no longer shaking with fear, he gave a hearty nod in reply before he yawned. His arm was going numb where your head was lying on it, but it was worth it when you rubbed your face against it to get comfortable as you did in that way, which he found utterly adorable. You appreciated the physical comfort you would have never had in your world.

“I’ll teach you how to fight tomorrow” he whispered over a yawn, his eyelids getting heavy again. He moved his hand from your neck to hang over your waist. He wanted to pull you into him, so you’d feel protected on all sides, not for any other selfish deeply personal reasons of course, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I’d like that very much,” you smiled and watched as he fell back asleep, not snoring but breathing heavily in that way which you found so adorable. You felt safe with his hand on your waist and fell asleep not long after him with thoughts of training together dancing behind your eyes.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Taglist: @letmelickyoureyeballs

[psyzook]

As much as I love portal fantasy, and the idea of being whisked into another universe, it pains me to think that I can’t just run my stupid little mouth. Because at every minor inconvenience I do the Michael Scott ‘I’m gonna kill myself’ bit from the office, and they would be alarmed. I simply cannot say ‘go piss girl’ whenever someone has to go and take a leak. Just imagine a character like Legolas or Aragorn having to respond to that.

[mimilind]

Sent to Middle-earth - Bonus - Explicit

♡ ♡ ♡  

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating: M

Chapter Word Count: 940

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

This is a bonus scene from a longer fic. It can also be read as a standalone one-shot.

Context: You have fallen into Middle-earth and been rescued from spiders by Legolas. Attraction happens, and one thing leads to the other, and now it’s time for the wedding night. :)

♡ ♡ ♡

4. The Wedding Night

Your fingers resumed their work on Legolas’ buttons, and he occupied himself with the same activity on yours – or his, rather, for you still wore the tunic you had borrowed.

Soon it would be yours – just as he would be yours! It felt surreal.

You pulled his tunic over his head, and his undershirt too for good measure, reveling in the sight of his toned torso. He had a warrior’s body, strong and lithe, and you had never seen anything more appealing. An expectant heat blossomed deep within you.

He helped you undress as well, and sighed with pleasure at beholding you topless. “I have wanted to do this since that first day, when I treated your spider sting,” he admitted huskily, tracing your stomach with his fingertips. He let his lips follow, nipping and licking, lighting tiny fires on your skin wherever his touch took him.

You decided it was your turn to taste him, and playfully pushed him back on the bed, straddling him. “You are so beautiful,” you murmured, bending down to kiss the muscles above his navel. His skin was firm and warm under your lips, and his scent pure and fresh like the woods themselves. Typical of elves, he had not a single strain of hair anywhere, just as he had no beard, and you found the exceptional smoothness strangely exotic and attractive.

Working your way upwards, you kissed his chest, and circled his nipple with your tongue while your fingers mimicked the action on his other side. He groaned, and pressed his abdomen against yours. You felt his hardness and knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

Stretching out on top of him, you found your way back to his mouth, and your tongues intertwined. He stroked your buttocks over your hose, moving down to the inside of your thighs, and now it was your turn to groan. 

Rolling you over, he fumbled with the knot on your hose strings. Chuckling, he admitted: “This too, is something I have dreamed of doing for quite a while.”

“Not as long as I.” You undid his hose as well. 

When both were naked, you lay side by side on his bed. 

“I cannot get enough of you.” Legolas’ hands roamed all over you, while he devoured you with his eyes. 

You were aching for him and did not want to wait any longer. “Then take me,” you said.

“No hurry.” He smiled impishly and began to kiss one of your nipples. You hummed with pleasure.

Moving you onto your back, he continued his exploration, finding all your sweet spots and caressing them with his fingers and tongue. Your entire body was tingling with desire.

You eagerly stroked his chest and shoulders, and then along his neck up to his ear. He gasped when you pinched its sensitive tip, and you felt him press down on you. With no clothes between you, his hardness touched your core, and you arched your back to allow him access.

“Please,” you moaned.

He stoically resisted your plea. Instead, he stroked your stomach, and down along your thighs, avoiding the area where you wanted him the most. 

“Dammit, Legolas. You’re cruel,” you groaned.

Chuckling, he at last took pity on you and his fingers found their way to your center. His purposeful caress lit a throbbing heat within, which rose to higher levels than you thought possible. Had he a sixth sense to know exactly what you wanted and needed? Or was his talent in this another elvish trait? You knew he could not have done it before, so practice was not the reason.

Soon you were more than ready to come, but held it back, wanting to feel him inside you.

“Now,” you mumbled, guiding him to the right position. 

He bent down to kiss you. Still with his lips against yours, he torturously slowly pushed all the way inside in one smooth motion. 

Your muscles squeezed around him and you sighed out in relief. Finally! He felt so good, this felt so right.

“I love you.” His eyes were large and dark, and his lips slightly parted. He had never looked more beautiful.

“I love you too.” 

With even strokes he slid in and out, and you could not hold back anymore. You came so hard you had to muffle your scream against his shoulder. 

Your internal muscles clamping down on him made Legolas shudder and his pace became uncontrolled. You were entranced by this side of him; the wild and passionate, who allowed his instincts to take over. 

His body trembled heavily and with a last shudder he became still over you, his eyes glazing over and filling with wonder. 

Still lingering inside you, his gaze met yours. “So this is why people want to marry…” 

You drew his face down to a long kiss, your throat too thick with emotion to speak. 

“Want to do it again?” he murmured against your lips, sounding hopeful.

“Definitely!”

♡ ♡ ♡

When you lay in his arms some time later, hearing his heartbeat slow down to normal, and feeling his familiar scent in your nostrils, you felt certain everything would work out for the better. Maybe you must stay in Imladris, but he would come back for you, and then you could be together forever. You were immortal now, and he was your husband, and you would never let him go.

You felt blessed, and loved, and immensely grateful.

♡ ♡ ♡

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[queeniesrose]

This will be apart of the modern character series of headcanons!

Master Post

SFW Modern Legolas: Dates

Legolas is a pretty laid back guy.

He's into many things, yet so little at the same time.

Smiliar to Haldir, he would be taking you on some active dates. Hiking, horseback riding, archery classes, that kind of thing.

He'd also like to make weekend trips and travel with you.

Go to new cities, visit the touristy areas, find amazing restaurants, etc.

On the flip side, he'd also like to do staycations and explore areas of where you live, that neither of you have been to. Try new restaurants.

He'd also love to cook and bake with you. Always finding new recipes for you guys to try out together.

At the end of the night, he'd want to curl up on the couch with you and watch a movie or a series.

When you are walking together, he likes to have an arm over your shoulder.

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Pt. 3 Children of the kindly west (Kíli x Reader) — A tale of two dwarven hearts

This is a translation, more of a re-write, of a fanfiction I wrote first in German during 2013 - 2015 when the Hobbit movies premiered and I was just as obsessed and enamored by that adorable prince like everyone else. And reading the Silmarillion for the first time this year in February brought me back to middle-earth and reminded me of my love of dwarves. And this brings me here today. Enjoy! Cross-posted on AO3 here. P.S. Feel free to tell me if any warnings or tags are missing. And if you want to be tagged in future parts! <3

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 *coming soon*

Warnings: Mutual Thirsting/ Pining, mentions of a naked female body under a nightgown, mentions of breasts, some sexual and romantic tension

New Friends

„Do you like Kíli?“, Syniver asked with an innocent face.

„I really like him!“, she continued. „He is so tall and funny!“

She laughed and rolled over a small sofa in the corner of the kitchen, standing up and giving an impression of Kíli when he huffed and rested his hands on his hips, when he was about to loose a game.

You smiled. You smiled about how wonderful your sister was and how much fun she was having.

But her question continued to linger in your mind, did you like Kíli?

Was one afternoon, one evening enough to say whether you liked your old acquaintance more than you had before? 

It probably was enough. You had not laughed as much in a long time, spending time with him felt natural and easy and you wanted more. 

More of him! You wanted to get to know the man he had become. The man whose eyes sparkled from within!

You met him again on the next day, when he came by to bring some knitted work that his mother had done for Syniver and your mother invited him to stay for an early tea.

And a few days after that you took the long route to the market, that led by the house of his family, hoping that you would see him. And you were lucky, he was outside shoveling snow from the pathway — you smiled at him and waved. He waved back with an excited grin and something deep inside you felt full and warm. 

You stopped to talk with him and he offered to accompany you again.

„But don’t you need to finish shoveling here?“, you had asked and he had just shrugged. 

„I’ll finish it later, or Fíli will do it. Or it snows more and then I have to do it again anyways.“

„Alright“, you had agreed and had taken his arm that he had offered you once again

„And besides“, he had added with the sparkle in his eyes that you had started to always look out for, „ I prefer your company over the shovel’s anytime!“

„I am glad to hear that I am more pleasant to be around than a shovel“, you had laughed but it had died in your throat as you had caught Kíli’s eyes on you and somehow you had gotten tangled up in them.

You had eventually torn your eyes away from his, missing the quick flash of confusion, as you had looked away and got out your shopping list from your pocket, ignoring the way your hands had trembled.

You were woken up by the repeated and unrelenting calling of your name a few days after your last day with Kíli.

You groaned, turned to the side and hoped that Syniver would be quiet soon, if she would not get an answer from you and your closed door.

Speaking of your closed door, you heard muffled voices on the hallway and a half-awake part of your brain chose to listen to them as you caught your name being said.

„Oh yes, she’s here. She’s maybe still sleeping. You can just go in!“, Syniver cheerfully explained and a horrified male voice answered.

„I can not go in there. I will not disturb her privacy!“

Kíli!

„Oh, why?“, asked Syniver’s voice confused and you thought the same.

‚Yes, why would he not come in’, the half-asleep part of your brain wondered, having him here with you would be heavenly, you could breathe in his musky scent of leather, pine trees, smoke and horse and it would surround you completely…

He would surround you completely.

Kíli’s voice sighed and then he answered.

„Just family can go to someone when they are sleeping, I am just a…“ He paused and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, what would he say now? What was he?

„I am merely a friend!“, he said slowly.

Just a friend.

What did you expect would he say?

Sighing, you threw your head back deeper into your pillows and opened your eyes.

Taking in the light of the day that filled your chamber you decided that you were awake now and got out of your bed. You turned to look for your dress that you had laid over a chair the night before.

And then your door opened. Syniver stood there and looked pleased with herself.

„See, she’s not sleeping anymore!“, she exclaimed loudly over her shoulder to Kíli, who stood behind her with a mortified look on his face.

The two of you stared at each other, mouth open and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks and saw how his cheeks reddened as well.

The heavy up and down of your chest brought you back to reality and you stumbled over your feet in an attempt to find something, anything to cover yourself with. You grabbed your dress from the chair and pressed it to your front.

Kíli had moved in the same time as you had come back to your senses, stuttering apologies over and over again and fled from the hallway, you heard his panicked steps on the stairs.

„Can you not knock?“, you asked Syniver over your heavy beating heart with more anger than she deserved.

„This was embarrassing!“, you sank back down onto your bed, resting your head against the bed post, suddenly exhausted, the dress still pressed to your body, that felt uncomfortably hot and aware of the fabric of your nightgown on your skin. You wore a simple white nightgown made from a light, fine fabric that could be quite translucent — oh Mahal, what had he seen?

He was never supposed to see you like this, hair open and unkempt, barely a braid in it and nearly naked. He was a prince after all! And he had offered you his company and his friendship, he had offered you his brilliant grin and sparkling eyes. 

You wanted nothing but to be worthy of his kindness and friendship, you had to be your best self! 

And this was barely your best self, just right out of bed! You groaned and looked at Syniver with pained eyes, who stood confused by your side and wondered why you and Kíli were acting so strange.

While you got dressed and tried to explain to Syniver why knocking is of importance and why you cherished your privacy, was Kíli running out of your house and straight to his. He spoke with nobody on his way, thankfully was no one home when he arrived, and gathered his bow and arrow together with his hunting gear and fled to the woods.

He went by foot, needing to run, needing to move, needing to get the image of you out of his head.

You bathed in sunlight, hair flowing freely over your shoulders, just a few little braids with golden beads on the ends sprinkled through it, cheeks and lips rosy and fresh from sleep —

You standing against the golden sunlight that made the fabric of your nightgown so sheer, that he could see the voluptuous contours of your breasts and the lush outlines of your waist, full belly and hips…

You staring at him with big surprised eyes, lips slightly parted, chest heaving, breasts moving with each breath under your nightgown.

And he had stared, he could not take his eyes away from you and your body, he should have looked away! He should have stopped Syniver when she opened the door!

He did not deserve to see you like this, fresh after the night, glowing like one of the goddesses of old that he had heard so many stories about. 

Who was he anyways? Just the second-born prince of a kingdom he did not even knew, he spat out this title in disgust, even in thoughts. 

And he was so oddly lean, too lean for a respectable dwarven warrior, his hair was too straight and he seemed to be unable to grow a beard.

People had mocked him, they have cackled behind their hands pressed over their mouths for all of his life. 

And amidst everything was you, beautiful, cheerful and well-spoken you.

You, whose eyes and face were kind to him, he felt seen in your gaze. In the best way possible.

When you smiled at him, laughing at one of your own jokes or his, when you two chatted away was he finally feeling like he could just be. 

He felt like he was enough, let the people talk, when he had your smile and your warmth next to him.

You had knocked him off his feet, literally.

Which was surprising and unexpected. He had barely given you a second thought in the past, the daughter of his mother’s best friend. Tiny and always behind him, his brother and other children. You had played together, spending more time arguing about a game than actually playing it. 

But you had found ways to arrange yourself and your games and still, he had never looked twice. You were just there. Until now. 

When your worlds had collided and were joined again by impact.

Oh Mahal, he slowed down his running and sighed, what have you done to me?

Later on the same day were you working in the kitchen, making a fresh batch of bread, and hitting the dough more than kneading it. 

You were still embarrassed about what had happened in the morning, still unsure on how to continue and you did not even knew why he had come to you in the first place.

A knock on the door made you pause in beating up the dough and you wiped your hands clean from flour on your apron while yelling “coming” towards the door.

You went to open the door and it was Kíli’s remorseful face greeting you with a shaky grin.

“Hello”, he whispered with a hoarse voice.

His eyes barely sparkled anymore, you noticed with a growing concern.

Was he not feeling well?

“Can I come in? I have brought you, I mean not you, you, I mean you and your family of course, some rabbits that I have freshly hunted today…”

And indeed, he had five already skinned rabbits hanging over his shoulder.

You smiled carefully and nodded.

“Of course! You are always welcome here!”

He breathed out in relief and his steps got his usual bounce back as he strode confidently into the kitchen.

And when he turned to you were his eyes sparkling again! You grinned, happy at the sight.

He gave you the rabbits and told you that he had already gutted them. 

“They are ready for cooking or smoking!”

“Excellent!”, you answered. 

“Mother will decide later on what will happen to them, my responsibility today is only the bread”, you nodded towards your kitchen’s worktop where still the bread dough rested. He followed your look. 

He kept his eyes on the dough and said quietly: “Can I talk to you? I have to apologise for my behavior today…”

He still was not looking at you.

“Of course…”, you nodded and got up to put away the rabbits into the cold storage room under your kitchen.

“Will you help me with these?”, you nodded towards the rabbits while climbing down the ladder into the storage room.

Kíli got up as well, without saying a word and handed you two rabbits at a time.

After he had given you the first pair he started speaking.

“I am awfully sorry for my disturbance in your privacy earlier! I should have never looked into your private chambers, Syniver had told me that you were still sleeping… I should have left right there.

It will never happen again!”, he said, voice coated with remorse and pain, while handing you the next two rabbits and you stored them carefully away.

“I have already forgiven you”, you answered after a quick minute, where you had gathered your thoughts.

“It was a stupid accident! And also quite hilarious, if you think about it. As if any visitor sees the people in a house in their night wear…”, you laughed and Kíli gave you the last rabbit and smiled slightly in an attempt to answer your laughter.

“Why did you come by anyways?”, you asked, as you climbed the ladder up again.

“Oh, I was just wanting to ask – CAREFUL!”, he suddenly yelled, as your foot slipped from

the last step of the ladder as you had stepped accidentally onto the hem of your dress. 

He grabbed you by the arm and you cling onto  him instinctively and he helped you carefully back onto the safe ground of the kitchen floor.

Your eyes got tangled into each other once again as he still held you close to him. 

*You were already standing safely back on the ground but neither of you moved, the two of you were not even blinking!

You breathed out and smiled at him, breaking the spell. He instantly released your arm and made a quick step back from you.

“Thank you – for saving me. This could have gone very differently without you…”, you shuddered as you looked down the ladder onto the dark, solid ground.

“We’re square now”, he answered with his usual grin. Everything was fine again.

“You ran into, well over, me and most certainly saved me from eventually doing something stupid that day on the market in regards to Fíli’s lover and now I saved you. We’re even!”

“I am glad”, you said. 

“You were just about to tell why you came by this morning…”, you reminded him.

“Oh yes, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend the day with me, hunting, riding in the forest…”, he looked at you with hopeful eyes and your heart melted instantly.

“Can we still do that? This sounds lovely!”

“If you want to, there’s still enough daylight left for a short trip. I know a lovely little pond, it is frozen now of course, but it is beautiful with frozen waterfalls…”, Kíli’s eyes sparkled and sparkled and your heart was full and happy. You wanted to ride through the forest by his side, you wanted to see the beautiful little pond, you wanted to see the world through his eyes!

You wanted to get to know his world!

And so you did.

Today’s ride through the forrest would be the first of many more to come.

He showed you hidden places, full of beauty and wonder. He showed you, where the rare white deer grazed during the winter months and you spent hours watching them from deep within the undergrowth of big, old trees.

„Some say“, he told you one day, „that these trees are older than the elves in middle-earth…“

You cocked your head to the side and looked at the gigantic trees around you, covered in all kinds of evergreens, moss and dead looking climbing plants — you knew that they would become lush and green soon enough when spring would arrive.

The trees were old, sturdy and had a rough bark that protected them from the seasons and weathers and apparently time.

„What they must have seen in all of these ages…“, you wondered and caught Kíli looking at you from the side.

You smiled at him, it was an instinct, you could not not smile when you saw or just thought of him,  and his eyes sparkled, when he returned your smile.

„The most extraordinary wonders“, he answered solemnly and kept looking at you and his smile lit a fire of gold and brown in his eyes, like a fragrant late summer day over freshly dug soil. 

You wanted to keep the happiness that radiated off of him in your life and your heart forever, it made you feel whole.

Of course, you were your own person but with him by your side, it felt like your life had doubled. 

Everything had intensified over the span of the days and weeks since Kíli had come back into your life.

He gave you so much. So much laughter, so much joy, he filled your heart and soul with warmth and let your insides tingle pleasantly.

His smile, his slightly curved pink lips, his sparkling eyes, his strong hands, his skillful fingers that flitted over the neck of his fiddle when he played his happy melodies…

He was all of this and more and you had started to wonder how you were ever able to live without the light he brought.

It was one of the evenings that you had spent with him in front of the fireplace in the welcoming living room of his family’s house — he and Fíli had played their fiddles and you had danced to their tunes, you had hummed along, happy songs about the most beloved treasures, of rare gems and of girls and boys flirting and dancing at their town’s festivals.

You had pressed your favorite book, that you had read to the brothers before, to your chest, taking it as your dance partner and swirled around the room, laughing and swinging…

But your eyes never left Kíli. You kept your eyes on him for the whole time.

You admired how he used his whole body to play his fiddle, how he moved along to the music, how his arms moved when he played, how he kept his full body tension —

pressing his chin gently to his fiddle to keep it stable on his shoulder and how his bow in his right hand danced confidently over the strings all while the fingers of his left hand bounced masterfully over the fiddle’s neck…

He was otherworldly beautiful, like a mythical creature from another realm, his dark hair in contrast to his sky blue tunic, his cheeks reddened from playing and laughing in the warmth of the fire in the room and always his eyes.

Sparkling. Fixed on you. Smiling slightly, as much as his play allowed.

And you danced, danced with your happiness and joy. Danced with a full heart and a soul that felt complete.

In the night that followed you saw yourself dancing in your dreams, your skirts twirled around you and you laughed.  The You that you observed looked directly at you and you saw her smile so brightly, so beautifully.

Your face rosy and a few strands of hair were sticking to the sides of your face, where sweat glittered in the light of the fire.

You were beautiful. Any doubt that you ever had about yourself faded as you observed your dream self.

She was glowing. She was everything. 

And you knew, even after waking, that she was not a creation of your mind, she was you and you were her.

Kíli saw himself this night in his dreams as well.

He saw himself like you had seen him. Beautiful, ethereal and worthy of your admiration.

He did not saw the little boy in the shadow of his brother and uncle, who was always trying to prove himself to them and the world. He saw a man, strong, capable and enough, even handsome, just like he was. And for the blessed moments that his dream lasted, he accepted your vision fully.

He just did not know that it was your eyes he had seen himself through.

Just like you did not know that you had seen yourself through his eyes.

Efís had stopped talking and the children all looked up to her with big eyes, questions flashing up behind their eyes.

“Why were they dreaming of themselves? Don’t you usually dream of other people and not about yourself?”, one of the older girls asked.

“Oh well”, Efís smiled slightly, her eyes fixing at a far point over the fire place, while she thought of her answer.

“There are stories, stories of old, that tell of bound, fated souls, souls tied together by Mahal himself, when He created them. 

Kíli and who was merely just his childhood acquaintance once were always destined to be more than friends or lovers. I believe firmly that their souls were promised to each other by Mahal, just like in the old stories . I believe they were the One for each other.

And the old stories also say that people, whose souls were were bound together in the moment of their creation, were able to see through the eyes of the beloved. Especially in dreams. 

They caught a glimpse of their own soul and it inspired them, healed them, nourished them and made the love in their hearts burn even brighter than before. If it ever was possible.

But the pair in our story, though fated, was not yet aware that it was love that was growing quickly and rapidly in their hearts.

But it would change very soon.

On a fateful day in the deep winter, when Fíli celebrated his 81st birthday Kíli and his One were both met with a burning desire for each other— and burning jealousy. But before I tell you about their hearts matters, do you want more cookies?”

The children screamed in joy and nodded ferociously.

“Very well then, dears, let me get the next platter!”

Efís laughed contently on her way to the kitchen, she was happy that the children, who came to visit her, shared her love for wonderful baked goods and the stories of old. This way was she making sure that the heritage of their people, stories, songs, everything that made their culture so rich, would be passed on for generations to come.

She continued speaking, after she was seated again and the children happily produced cookie crumbs on her carpet and the room was once again filled with eating children, their breathing, their sniffling and the crackling of the fire.