Caitlin

my second blog for some other things! my other blog: chrys-lism my ao3: chrys_lism

[chrys-lism2]

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ Caitlin's Masterlist! ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

use the hastags on this post!

characters included:

Jack Sparrow

Will Turner

Elizabeth Swann

Legolas Greenleaf

Kili Durin

Thorin Oakenshield

Ryland Grace

Sebastian Wilder

[chrys-lism2]

Tune 🜸 Ryland Grace

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 1,500+

summary: rocky finds out you can sing,

tags: tooth rotting fluff, first kiss, so much fluff

a/n: love you all! this post is gorg hello

divider cred: me!

The Hail Mary had been… something. You’d woken a few weeks after Grace, with jumbled memories of an aircraft carrier and lots of karaoke at the forefront of your mind. A few slow days had passed as the two of you slowly figured out yourselves and the ship. You had been put on as an assistant pilot, semi-decent at the science (you thank the stars every day for Grace and his mind), and the two of you slowly fell into a rhythm.

Rocky had been the saving grace for the two of you—a breath of fresh air and motivation to keep going. Grace watched from afar, fascinated by the way you listened to Rocky. He always read off the screen of his computer while you sat, back to the xenonite, and analyzed the melodic tunes the Rocky let out. “Were you good with music?” He asks one day as your eyes trace Rocky’s form as he sleeps.

“I think so. From what I can remember, I played piano and guitar, and I think I loved to sing.” The man lets out a soft hmph, making you smile and turn to look at him. “The first memories that came back were karaoke on the ship.”

“I wonder if Rocky would like you to sing.” Your brow raises as your face pinches in thought.

“Maybe.”

“You shy?” He teases gently, making you wave him back before looking back at the alien.

“Maybe I’ll sing.” 

🜸

The hamster ball was certainly… something. You couldn’t stop laughing as Grace chased Rocky through the ship. “Rocky! Rocky!” The alien skids to a stop, facing the man as you bite back a giggle. “Guess what?”

“What, question?”

“She’s a singer.” You watch Rocky’s whole body freeze before happily perking up and moving closer to you.

“Human, sing! Demand!” Grace shakes with quiet laughter as your jaw drops at the word.

“Demand?” You ask, astonished.

“Eridians use music as communication! Want to hear human music from favorite human!”

“I thought I was your favorite human!” Grace interjects with a soft pout, making you snicker.

“Grace not sing. Grace is now second favorite human.” Your laughter gets louder, and Grace can’t help but smile at the sound.

“I never said yes.” A noise that can only be described as a pathetic whine leaves Rocky’s carapace, and he starts to ram his ball into the side of your arm.

“Please, please, please, please, please, please, Grace, help convince other human please.” 

“You’re really going to leave Rock hanging like that?” You open your mouth to speak, but fall short with a long sigh.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll sing.” Rocky excitedly does jazz hands and spins around in his xenonite ball.

“Sing! Sing! Sing!” You move to one of the computers, scrolling through the endless catalog of music Stratt had uploaded, smiling as you settle on a song. Grace and Rocky sit politely like two excited puppies. 

I took my love, I took it down

Climbed a mountain, and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills

'Til the landslide brought me down 

Excited jitters immediately leave Rocky, his form spinning around in his ball, Grace smiling at the familiar tune. 

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Grace can’t help but watch you, enamored, butterflies attacking his chest as pink fills his cheeks. Rocky swayed to the slow beat, attention completely zeroed in on the soundwaves of your voice. 

Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm gettin' older, too 

Rocky stiffens for a moment as Grace’s voice joins yours, the lyrics familiar on his lips. Rocky’s carapace turns to look between the two of you excitedly. “Grace sing!”

🜸

Grace slipped his glasses off his nose to slowly rub his face, the lack of sleep catching up to him. He stretches his arms out with a soft groan, standing to head towards the bed. He stops at the top of the hatch, hearing a soft melody from your lips. He peers in to find Rocky’s xenonite ball on your chest as you sang softly to the alien.

“Rocky likes human songs. Likes meaning.” The alien says softly, making your smile widen. 

“Eridian songs have meaning, don’t they?”

“Not like humans. Song on Erid has purpose, not meaning.”

“Can you sing one?”

“Will sing Rocky favorite song! Is song Rocky mother sing to Rocky when Rocky pebble! Betime song for human!” Grace finds himself leaning against the cool metal of the doorway, watching as Rocky’s carapace starts to emit different frequencies of noise. The song sounded slightly disjointed, some of the frequencies too high or low for you or Grace to hear with human ears, but your smile softened nonetheless. 

“That’s so beautiful, Rock… How is your mother?” Your fingers press into the softest layer of the xenonite ball, gently holding Rocky’s claws.

“Rocky mother die. Lived very long, happy life with many pebbles! Rocky have many siblings!”

“I’m sorry, Rocky…” Your grip tightens around the stone claws.

“Is not bad! Death on Erid a celebration! Rocky mother was doctor! Did many amazing things for Erid.”

“Why Grace watching, question?” Grace freezes in his spot as you look back at the man. “Grace spying, question?”

“Just watching, Rock.” 

“Grace heart rate elevate. More blood in cheeks.”

“Ergo, you’re blushing. You tease gently.

“Thanks. I got that.” Grace quips sarcastically. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Grace need female human betime song!” Rocky spins, making you groan.

“Careful, Rocky… you’re heavy.” A soft apology thrums through the aliens as he curls back up on your chest.

“Grace come listen to song.”

“Is that ok with you?” The blonde man asks gently.

“Course.” You murmur gently. “Any requests?”

“You’re the one singing; do whatever you please.” He settles on the floor next to your bunk, arms folded gently on the side of your bed, skin warm against yours as his eyes fix on you.

A dream is a wish your heart makes

When you're fast asleep

In dreams you will lose your heartaches

Whatever you wish for, you keep 

Grace watches your profile with a gentle smile, feeling Rocky’s happy vibrations through the contact of your arm with his.

Have faith in your dreams and someday

Your rainbow will come smiling through

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing

The dream that you wish will come true 

He feels his eyelids start to drop, the weight of his head growing heavier as your voice fills his mind, the petrova line and astrophage disappearing for a long moment. Rocky's noises slowly cease as sleep invades his mind. You glance between the two, smiling at the sleeping bodies you’ve become sandwiched between.

🜸

When Grace wakes up, he groans at the soreness from the position he’d slept in but pauses as his eyes open, finding your face right in front of his own. Your chest rose and fell with soft breaths, and Rocky snuggled asleep on your chest. 

As much as his back hurt, he couldn’t find it within himself to move. It felt like the closest he’d ever be able to get to you without taking the terrifying step of asking the only other human he was with in space to date him. 

He snaps out of his daze as you murmur and your eyes flutter open. “Grace?”

“Your lullaby really worked… Rocky was right.” He whispers, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, mind still hazy with sleep. The action makes your stomach flutter as a smile graces your lips.

“I’m that good?” You quip softly.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out suddenly, making your brows raise. “I’m sorry–”

“You really want to?” 

“If you’ll let me.”

“I’ve got morning breath.” You blurt softly, making the man let out a soft laugh.

“If you kiss me now… we can probably share a couple more after we brush our teeth?” He suggests gently, making a giggle slip from your lips.

“If you really don’t mind–” The warmth is immediate, and it makes your eyes flutter shut with a soft hum. The hum makes Rocky perk up from sleep, letting out a shriek-like noise, the two of you pulling apart.

“What is? Disgust! Disgust! Disgust!” Grace is redder than you’ve ever seen him as you try to force out some words to explain to the alien what is going on.

“It a– a human thing! It’s called a kiss.” Grace whispers, eyes focused on the suddenly interesting bedding. 

“Is kiss like Rocky and Adrian in Rocky movie? Is declaration of love?”

“Something like that,” you murmur.

“Grace, no longer idiot! Grace smart smart smart to kiss other human!” Rocky’s jazz hands make you smile.

“What does that mean?”

“Rocky’s speaking nonsense–” Grace blurts.

“No! Rocky not speak nonsense! Rocky only speak sense! Grace speak over and over in lab about female human! Too shy to initiate mating and courting rituals!” Grace somehow gets redder as your laughter grows louder.

[chrys-lism2]

Doors ◈ Ryland Grace

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 720+

part 1

summary: zimm's nerves about his first doctor's appointment

tags: fluff, so much fluff, read part one!, rocky and adrian do not appreciate leaky space blobs, family fluff, kid fic, first words

a/n: love you all!!! this was request by @sporkupine12 under the last part and a few other people in the reblogs so enjoy!

divider cred: me!

The false sunlight of the biopdome begins to filter through the window, and you watch with an affectionate smile as Zimm slowly wakes, stretching out clumsily. Ryland shifts as the weight on his chest moves, eyes fluttering open as he glances between the two of you with a smile. “G’morning.” His voice comes out raspy with sleep, making you grin and curl closer.

“Hi…” Your lips meet his, and Zimm lets out a displeased noise at the sight, making the two of you pull away with a laugh. The moment is interrupted by a pounding on the door, making your smile grow. “It’s open!” 

Two xenonite suits echo through the house before Rocky and Adrian step into the space, watching your family. “How is Zimmer?” Rocky asks, making you grin and gently lift Zimm from Ryland’s chest, settling the small alien on your shoulder.

“He’s doing wonderful.” You feel Ryland’s arms move to wrap around your middle, face smushed against your back.

“Eridians would like to take Zimmer for a doctor checkup. Promise no extreme tests, just want to make sure Zimmer is ok.” You look over your shoulder as Grace perks up, grabbing his glasses off the beside table.

“That sounds fine.” You feel Grace nod against your shoulder. The aliens communicate, and you feel Zimmer shirk in fear against the side of your neck, a whine-like noise leaving his carapace. Matching frowns paint your and Grace’s faces, and you reach up to softly stroke one of the small legs.

“Zimmer is scared, statement.” Rocky lets out, making you nod.

“Doctors can be scary. Especially because Grace and I can’t come.” You murmur, Grace’s warm hand against your side. 

“Zimmer will be taken care of very well. Adrian promise and be there whole time. Will bring back to home.” You nod slowly, taking Zimm from your shoulder and bringing the alien face-to-face. Unpleasant tones leave the small creature, making you frown.

“I know it’s scary, my love… it’ll be ok. It’ll be fast, and Grace and I will be right here waiting.” You gently pet Zimm’s back carapace, the one you found most soothing when touched.

“Mommy and daddy will be right here.” Grace murmurs, reaching up to gently grasp one of Zimm’s claws. A long silence follows before Zimm lets out a defeated sound mixed with what you had come to recognize as a cry. “M’sorry…”

“Will take now. Will be safe. Promise.” Adrian purrs, making you raise a brow.

“I thought Eridians never promised.”

“Promise important to safety and human family.” 

“Thank you, Adrian.” You gently hand Zimmer off to the Eridian couple, gently waving them off. You can’t help but tuck yourself into Grace’s chest, covering your ears to drown out Zimm’s retreating cries.

“It’s the same as if we took a human baby to the doctor. The shots are the worst for us to watch, but the most necessary for the baby. Just remember you’re keeping him safe, alright? You love him enough to keep him safe and healthy.” You nod slowly, feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“I hate when he cries.” Grace pulls back at the weakness in your voice, frowning and moving to wipe your cheeks.

“Me too. Me too.” He huffs, pulling you back into his chest and laying both of you down. 

◈

The second the door opens, you swiftly stand from the bed, finding the three Eridians in the doorway. “♩♫♪𝅘𝅥𝅰!” Gasps leave you and Ryland, equally surprised noises leaving the Eridians.

“Did he just–”

“Zimm!” You grin. “Say it again, say it again!”

“♩♫♪𝅘𝅥𝅰!” A sob leaves Grace’s lips as you lift the baby alien into your arms.’

“Is Eridan word for mother!” Rocky squeals happily, making you nod as tears fall down your cheeks, Zimmer pressing happily into your chest.

“It sure is, pal.” Ryland sniffles, bringing both of you into his arms, forehead falling to your shoulder. Another word leaves Zimmer, making you give a sympathetic smile.

“It was scary, hm? Didn’t like the doctor?” You pacify gently. His carapace shakes in your hand.

“Thank goodness you’re home, hm?” Grace speaks beside you.

“With mommy and daddy!” Another heavy sob is ripped from Grace’s lips, and you can’t help but smile at the disgust radiating off Adrian and Rocky before they shuffle out of the house. “Want lunch!” Laughs echo out from the three of you.

[chrys-lism2]

Muse 𝄞 Sebastian Wilder

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 2,400+

summary: sebastian's favorite employee at seb's.

tags: fluff, first kiss, age gap (early twenties/thirties), boss/employee, injury and blood (broken plates), mutual pining, mentions of dead family member and funerals

a/n: love you all!!!

divider cred: me!!

Mia was gone. Sure, the larger-than-life portraits and billboards he passed to get to work each day mocked him, but she was gone, married, a daughter, without Sebastian. He had the jazz club, without her. And her visit three months prior was haunting him deeply, the way she’d still made an effort to turn and find his eyes, skin coated with blue light as he painfully smiled and watched what he thought would be his future walk out on him… again. But he forced himself to move on. The flame was still kindled but inaccessible, and he needed to learn to look forward instead of getting stuck in the warmth.

You had applied to Seb’s, freshly graduated from UCLA and struggling to navigate the job market. You’d been hired as a waitress and hostess, shifting where they needed you. You couldn’t complain; the company was friendly, and with it being such a popular spot, tips were decent on a good night. The constant jazz definitely helped, too. The liveliness kept a pep in your step as you waited tables, making it easier to get through long shifts.

Sebastian’s eyes caught on your name as he glanced over his schedule plan, a soft smile finding his lips. His staff was small but tight-knit and strong; guests often told him how wonderful the service was. Over the past few months, you’d become his best server and hostess, effortlessly navigating his space and rarely receiving any complaints from customers. Your tip-outs were always the highest, and he wasn’t blind to the way some of the other servers eyed you with jealousy. 

You’d felt like the first person to break through the fog of his heartbreak, soft eyes and light steps, a constant each night in his life. The music helped, too, of course, by distracting his mind, with patterns and rhythms that slowly eased his heartache. HE refused to acknowledge that your presence was slowly filtering into his music.

“Hey, Seb?” He whirls around to face you, looking up from his notes. Seb’s was an hour from opening, and you’d strolled in to begin opening work.

“Hey, you…” A smile graces his face as you adjust your bag on your shoulder.

“I know, it’s uh– really late notice, but I need next weekend off.” His brow raises as he shifts in his spot.

“Can I at least get a reason?” You give a weak smile.

“Death in the family, I need to uh– attend the funeral.” Sebastian’s eyes soften as he slowly nods in understanding.

“Oh gosh, yes, of course! Do you need any other days? You can have the whole week if you need it.”

“I– are you sure? I don’t–”

“If you so help me apologize, that will be more insulting than asking for time off late.” 

“If I could have next Friday through Wednesday… that would be wonderful.” You watch the man grab the schedule, scribbling your name out and blocking out the dates.

“You’ve got it. Do you… Need anything?” You shake your head softly, eyes moving towards your shoes.

“Hopefully, a busy shift. Helps keep me occupied.” He nods gently, resisting the urge to reach out and give your hand an assuring squeeze.

“I’ll tell Jason to keep a steady flow in your section whenever he gets here.”

“Thank you, Seb… Thank you.” You mutter, fiddling with a piece of your jewelry and avoiding the older man's eyes.

“Of course, sweetheart. You’re the best employee I’ve got. Just let me know if you need anything. Anything, I mean it.” The pet name makes heat flutter along your spine as you nod, gently dismissing yourself towards the back of the restaurant. 

𝄂𝄚𝄚𝄞ㅤ

Your mind buzzed contentedly as your shift passed, music fluttering through the air as you shifted from table to table, between the warmth and grease of the kitchen and the cool blue lighting of the floor. Seb’s eyes would catch you every so often, drifting up from his fingers, watching the light bounce in your step as you breezed between your tables. 

As he started a more somber piece, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His fingers drifted across the keys, a soft rhythm to mimic the way he saw you work. A deeply forgotten feeling rumbles through his chest as he works his way through the middle of his piece, eyes falling to his hands as the realization washes over him; He might’ve finally found someone else.

𝄂𝄚𝄚𝄞ㅤ

The few days without you were a struggle. He noticed your lack of presence more than ever before, his ugly realization of possibly liking someone again, tearing his mind apart. His music wasn’t as strong, mind stuck between visions of your eyes and his fingers on the keys. He was completely out of it.

When you did return, he could barely face you. A blubbering, awkward mess, making your brows furrow in confusion. “Is everything alright?” He nods slowly, avoiding watching as you shrug your jacket off. You wore a dark green blouse the fitted you kindly, and he had to force himself to look away.

“Everything’s fine. Just get ready for service.” His clipped tone makes your brows furrow as you stop for a moment, mouth parting softly in confusion.

“I can uh– pick up some extra shifts next week to make up for me being gone.” You offer nervously, and his spine jolts with guilt as he realizes his tone made you think he was mad at you.

“Oh god– no– sweetheart, you’re ok. I’m sorry, promise I’m not mad at you– just having an uh– day? Y’know?” You nod softly in understanding, and he watches the nervousness slip off your shoulders as you straighten your posture. “How was the funeral?” You shrug softly.

“It was… a funeral. Sad.” He nods slowly.

“Gonna be alright on the floor tonight?” Your eyes light up for a moment.

“Oh– right– could I just uh– buss tonight? Not really in the mood to try and be cheery for tables.” 

“Yeah, of course! I’ll go let Jared know he’s on tables.” You give a grateful nod before walking towards the back, Sebastian watching you closely as you disappear from his sight. He was fucked.

𝄂𝄚𝄚𝄞ㅤ

“You’re kidding, right?”Lilly laughs, sipping whatever drink she’d gotten, sitting across from you at the small club the two of you had found. “Sebastian? As in your boss?” You groan, setting your martini down and burying your head in your hands.

“I don’t even know what to do! I’ve dropped two trays in the past three weeks because I get so fucking distracted!” Her laugh gets louder, making the smallest smile twist across your lips. 

“I can’t lie and say he’s not gorgeous.”

“And he can sing and play piano! He owns his own club for goddess's sake!”

“At least we know he’s good with his fingers.” She teases, wiggling her brows and making you kick her underneath the table.

“Lilly!” You shriek, moving to cover your warming face again.

“Am I wrong?” She muses gently. A defeated no leaves your lips. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know, he could fire me and blacklist me from the club!” You groan, moving to slump backwards in your seat.

“Or he likes you back.”

“He’s like– ten years older than me!”

“Age is just a number! I bet he writes music about you.”

“Lilly!” You groan.

𝄂𝄚𝄚𝄞ㅤ

The clatter that surrounds you as the dishes hit the ground makes you flinch and freeze as you look at the mess on the floor. You can hear the surrounding teasings, ooohs, as you move to start picking up the pieces. A soft hiss leaves your lips as a piece of porcelain slices the palm of your hand, red blooming from the cut. You drop the pieces, biting your lips to soften a sharp cry as you shakily stand back up. 

“Seriously, guys? We cannot keep losing dishwe– Are you ok?” Sebastian’s concern wraps you in a warm blanket as you rip your eyes from the dripping blood and to his eyes. “Margo! Go get a broom and clean this up, please!” The woman nods, rushing off as Sebastian leads you away from the mess and grabs a clean rag to wrap around your hand. “You ok?” He asks again, making your head shake awkwardly.

“Blood.” You murmur, making him slowly nod.

“Ok, ok, breathe, alright? You’re ok.” He soothes, making your insides twist as you manage a nod, eyes focused on a strand of loose hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Can I take you to urgent care? Please? I’ll cover it.” You send him a long, dazed glance, head swimming at the sight of your blood seeping through the rag. “Actually, you don’t get a choice. C’mon.” One of his hands gently drifts to your back as he leads you out the back door and towards his convertible.

“Your seats– don’t want to mess up the leather.” An affectionate smile graces his lips as he opens the door.

“Well, I don’t want you passing out. Blood can be cleaned, but hitting your head from passing out could lead to a lot worse.” You slowly nod as you take in his words before slipping into the passenger seat and distantly hearing him shut the door.

The ride is a slow blur, your head leaning against the window, wind blowing across your face as you breathe in the fresh air. Your eyes drift from the bright lights illuminating the streets to Sebastian’s face as he drove. His brows were pinched with worry, making a gentle smile grace your lips as you trace the line of his nose. “You ok?” He asks gently, making you nod. “Almost there.”

“It… hurts.” He looks over at you, frowning.

“I bet. We’re almost there.” You couldn’t tell if he was assuring you or himself.

𝄂𝄚𝄚𝄞ㅤ

Your eyes were focused on the speckled pattern of the ceiling tiles as the nurse gently stitched your hand up. Sebastian’s hand was warm in your uninjured hand, which you gave a squeeze at the numbed pressure of the needle in your skin. He watched you closely, heart finally starting to slow. You were ok. The blood on his white cufflink wasn’t lost on him, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind.

The panic that had flared through his body as he’d rounded the corner, frustration searing through his bones at the thought of losing more dishes before it had suddenly frozen at the look in your eyes. His eyes fall to the stained cufflink as you squeeze his hand again. “Alright… we just need to get this wrapped up, and then I’ll print out the aftercare, ok, hun?” The woman says gently, making your eyes snap to her as you give a distant nod.

When you walk back into the parking lot, you take a long breath, Sebastian’s steps sopping behind you. “I hope you know you’ve got the next few days off and then you’re hosting until further notice.” He muses gently, making you nod.

“I’m sorry about the plates.” He shakes his head, stepping closer and lifting a hand to your back.

“Your safety is a lot more important than some plates. And whenever you get the bill, send it my way, ok?” You turn to look up at him over your shoulder, cheeks warming at how close he is.

“Thank you for uh… all of this. Tonight. Yeah– thank you.” You mumble, making his grin widen as he steps the slightest bit closer.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asks, voice lower with a tone you couldn’t bring yourself to think too hard about.

“Still a little queasy.” His fingers twitch against your back.

“Come back to my place.” The words are so rushed from his lips that it takes you a long moment to process them.

“...what?”

“Stay at my place tonight. Let me uh– make sure you’re ok.” A soft noise leaves his throat as he awkwardly clears his throat, eyes moving to find something anywhere but yours.

“Are you sure?” You whisper, making his head shake as a smile graces his lips.

“More than. Please.” You were in the passenger seat of his car again before you could blink.

𝄂𝄚𝄚𝄞ㅤ

Sebastian’s apartment was a lot smaller than you anticipated for someone owning such a bustling club. The walls were an uninviting yellow, sparse with decor. The coffee table was littered with a few empty cans and glasses, blazers thrown over the back of the couch. 

Sheet music littered the small kitchen table and the top of the piano, an unopened letter strewn across the kitchen counter. Aside from the counter, the kitchen was the cleanest spot of what you could see. “Do you like to cook?” You ask gently, eyes scanning the fresh vegetables and fruit.

“I do, yeah. I’ll make you something, sorry about the mess– wasn’t expecting company.” You wave him off with your good hand, moving to sit on the couch. His smell enveloped you pleasantly as you traced the gauze on your hand. “Do you need some water?”

“Yes, please…” When he walks over, he hands you a plate and a glass of ice water before sitting in front of you on the floor, legs crossed, back against the coffee table as he looks up at you.

“Feeling better?”

“A little. Still… lightheaded.” 

“The nurse said that it should go away by morning.” You both eat in silence for a long couple of moments, and you pretend not to notice the way your heart flutters each time you notice him glancing up at you. 

“Thank you… again.” He gently waves you off with a bashful grin.

“Anything for my best employee.” Your stomach felt like molten lava as you took the last few bites of food. “You can take my bed. I’ll sleep out here.” He shuffles gently as he stands to grab both plates and move back into the kitchen. You stand to follow, socks against the cool tile of the small kitchen. The space felt hot, and probably not because of the cooking that had just been done.

“I can’t take your bed.”

“You’re not taking, I’m offering.”

“You're back–”

“Who said I have back problems?”

“It’s your bed–”

“So it’s mine to give.” You huff gently as he turns to face you. The world blurs for a long moment before you step forward, grabbing his tie with your uninjured hand and pressing your lips against his. The noise he lets out is one you’d never heard from the man before, his body relaxing as his hands move to your sides.

“Share the bed?” You whisper as you pull away, eyes focused on his mouth and the way it curls into a smile at your words.

“Sharing is good. Sharing sounds wonderful.” A searing kiss meets your lips as his arms tighten around you. 

[chrys-lism2]

Runt ✶ Ryland Grace

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 1,600+

summary: the eridians offer you and ryland a runt pebble

tags: requires suspension of disbelief! does not follow the correct eridian lore!, fluff, slice of life, established relationship, kissing, accidental child acquisition, kid/family fic, original eridian characters

a/n: love you all!!!!

divider cred: me!

Part 2!

Nervous chirps fill your ears as you look up from your book, sitting up in the xenonite chair of the small porch of the house Rocky and Adrian had kindly made for you and Grace. Suzy, as you had named the pink Eridian nurse you’d taken a liking to after she’d cared for you and Ryland when you’d arrived on Erid. “Hey, Suze… what’s going on?”

“Runt! Pebble is a runt!” Your brows furrow softly, eyes following the movement of her pink claws as she frantically moves in front of you.

“What do you mean? Is there a new litter?” Her carapace moves in a way that mimics a nod. “Why are you telling me?”

“Needs mother.”

“Oh…kay?”

“You should be mother.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… Why would I be the mother? I’m… human!”

“Eridians not have time for motherhood of runt. Human have time while Grace teach.”

“How often does this happen? Runts?”

“Every two hundred years. Statistic.” You nod slowly, thinking over your options.

“Can I get back to you? Talk to Grace after class and then give you an answer?”

“Need answer by end of sunlight cycle.” You nod.

“Come back to the house later this evening, alright?” The eridian purrs happily and nuzzles against your leg before walking off.

✶

“Do you want a baby?” Grace almost trips over the top step as he reaches the house, dropping his books and snapping his head up at you.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been… offered a baby?” His brows furrow as he stands and fixes his glasses.

“Offered… a baby?” He looks at you over his frames.

“Suzy visited today, asking if I want the runt of the litter.” 

“I mean… do you? Can we even… do that? It wouldn’t be able to survive in our atmosphere?”

“Mini zenonite suits?” His hands envelope yours as he looks down at you where you’re sitting. 

“Are you being serious?” You burst into laughter, making him smile.

“I am! I swear! Suze should be by in a few hours for us to give her an answer.”

“Not a few hours! Here now!” The soft melodies of the alien ring out, making you smile.

“Hey, Suze!” Grace smiles, moving to sit, back against your knees as your fingers drift to his hair. “I’ve heard you’re trying to make us parents.”

“Runt pebble needs parents.”

“What happens if we say no?” You ask gently, feeling Ryland’s nod beneath your fingers.

“Runt die.” Both of you frown at the words, heart twisting uncomfortably.

“How are we supposed to feed it? Human babies need a lot of emotional connection, skin-to-skin contact.” You explain softly, watching the eridian purr and curl up in front of Grace.

“Pebble understand feeding. Born with ability. Not need skin-to-skin. Runt possible deformities, could possible survive in human atmosphere.” Grace’s brows furrow.

“You guys think it could survive in our atmosphere? Here in the dome?”

“Is possibility.” The eridian chirps gently.

“How are we going to get the food?”

“Deliveries.”

“Do you know anything else about it?”

“Human equivalent of male. Missing leg.”

“He’s missing a leg?” Grace muses gently, lifting a hand to grab and squeeze yours.

“Yes. Without help, we will die. Statement.” Grace looks up over his shoulder at you, and you give a shrug and soft smile.

“What do you think?” He muses.

“I think it could be fun. We can see if it’ll survive in the dome and then go from there. And we can’t just… let it die. We might as well try.” Grace nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead tenderly.

“Human say yes?” Suzy jumps up happily, jittering and making you grin.

“I don’t see why not.” 

“Bring tomorrow morning! With food!”

✶

“You ready to be a mother?” His arms come around you as you make dinner, grinning softly and leaning against his warmth.

“I don’t see why not. She said this only happens every two hundred years. I don’t want him to die… I really hope it doesn’t when they get him in the atmosphere.”

“Got a name?” You pause for a long moment, stirring the food in the pot.

“Hmmm… Sebastian?”

“Sebastion? Really?” He snorts softly, making you laugh.

“Ken?”

“Like the doll?” Your laugh gets louder, making him smile and press a kiss to your cheek.

“Jacob?”

“Are we raising a frat eridian? Some kind of Playboy?” He muses, squeezing you tighter.

“Zimmer?” He pauses for a long moment, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

“I don’t… hate that.”

“Just alien enough for us? We can call him Zimm.”

“Zimmey? Zizi?” You giggle, turning the makeshift stove off.

“I like Zimmer.”

“If you like it, I like it.” He hums, making you turn to face him and press a long kiss against his lips.

“Dinner?”

“Please.”

✶

You stand beside Grace and watch as the small alien is delicately set in the box and pushed into the dome. You and Grace hold your breath for a long moment to see if the pebble starts to smoke, but as the second slowly passes, a grin breaks across your face as you approach the box and reach in to grab the purple creature.

Grace watches as the small alien shifts in your hold and makes a soft noise, probably equivalent to a babble, and shifts in your hands. “Hi, Zimmer.” You whisper.

“Is anomaly!” Rocky cheers happily as you nod.

“It seems that it is.”

“What’s the probability of that, hm?” Grace smiles, one of his hands meeting your hip.

“Probability is 0.0000000003–”

“I was being hyperbolic, Rock.” Grace grins, watching the pebble move happily in your hands.

“Need word.” Rocky hums, making you laugh.

“Later, Rock.” Grace grins, pulling you closer. You glance at him over your shoulder.

“We’re parents!” You giggle, making the small creature tilt its carapace in curiosity at the unfamiliar noise.

“We really are, hm?” He presses a kiss to your lips before pulling away and looking back at the pebble.

✶

You sit in the sand, watching as Zimm tries to climb around and explore his surroundings, clumsy with only four legs. Frustrated ‘babbles’ leave his carapace as you smile. “Tired?” The alien crawls into your awaiting palm with a content thrum. “You’re doing well, hm? Lots of practice.”

“How is pebble?” Adrian’s tones ring out behind you.

“Zimm’s doing great. Can I ask you something, Adrian?” The alien nods.

“Yes, ask please.”

“How do I know he’s tired? He can’t fully speak yet. I don’t know when he’s hungry or tired.” Adrian moves closer, the xenonite suit pressing against your arm as she observes the smaller alien.

“I will mimic noises.” You nod and listen closely as two melodic tunes leave the alien a few times, slowly nodding. The pebble mimics the noise of hunger, making your eyes snap towards the pebble.

“So that’s what you want…” You grin.

“Need food?” You nod softly. “Adrian can get.”

“You sure?”

“Adrian happy to help.”

“I think there are still some on the porch of the house.” Zimm curls up in your hold with a soft noise that makes you smile. “Adrian’s getting you some food.” You pout softly, gently petting a smooth part of the purple carapace.

It’d only been a few days, but you already couldn’t stomach the thought of ever leaving your baby behind. Sure, he was clumsy, and the language barrier was proving a struggle, but you could also tell the affection was reciprocated. A terribly unharmonious sound would escape the small creature anytime you left him alone or moved to a different room.

You watch as Adrian reuters, carrying the small xenonite bowl, filled with the necessary foods, Zimm happily chittering at the sight. You set him down to eat, smiling softly before looking back up at Adrian. “Adrian?” A noise leaves the alien for you to continue. “How codependent are Eridians?”

“Not very. Not raised with nourishment such as humans.” You nod slowly, watching Zimmer play with his food.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Eridians no promise.”

“You get what I mean.”

“Humans too absolute.” You can hear the ‘scoff’ in Adrian’s tone, making you snort.

“Promise you won’t experiment on Zimm. Sure, I’ll report back the things he does, but no taking him off to labs, doing tests–”

“Adrian understands. Promise will be upheld.” You nod, reaching out to gently tap the top of their carapace. Zimmer lets out a happy grumble to let you know they’re done before clambering back into your lap and twirling around before nestling against your hip, body slumping. “Pebble is ready for sleep.” You grin.

“I’ll watch him the whole time.” Adrian purrs happily, settling beside you in the sand, warmth radiating through the xenonite suit.

✶

“How's the baby?” Ryland asks, kicking his shoes off and immediately enveloping you in a tight hug. You grin, cupping his cheeks and planting a gentle kiss against his lips with an affectionate hum.

“He’s happy. At a big lunch today, and has been asleep ever since.” Grace looks over at the small xenonite ‘bed’ the eridians had made and dropped off, Zimmer’s purple carapace stark against the dark metal. 

“Y’know… I never thought I’d be a parent… thought I had enough students to cover that… but I can’t say I hate this.” You shake your head, burying your forehead against the side of his neck and taking in his warmth. The sound of Grace’s voice makes Zimmer purr happily as he wakes, clumsily jumping up and rushing to happily greet Ryland. The jitters are like the noise of an excited dog as Ryands lifts the aliens to his face. “Hey, you!”

You grin as Zimm babbles happily, probably trying to talk about their day, watching as Ryland nods and gasps at certain parts for dramatic effect. “You were meant for this.” You murmur, making his eyes move to yours.

“What?”

“Fatherhood.”

“Even though it’s not quite traditional?” He grins, walking back over, making Zimm jump into your hold.

“This… is perfect.” You hum, his lips meeting your temple, Zimm’s vibrations strong in your palms. 

Part 2

[chrys-lism]

Update!! For this acc and @chrys-lism2

Hello everyone!!!! As most of you have probably seen I have not been the most active and that's been due to me finishing my first year of college 🎉🎉

Once I've fully unpacked I plan to get back into the swing of things! I love you all so much and thank you for your continued support!!!!!!!

[chrys-lism2]

Cuddle Piles | Ryland Grace

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 1,000+

summary: ryland's girlfriend wakes up sick and snaps at rocky

tags: teeny bit of angst, life on erid, protective adrian, fluff, so much fluff, sickfic

a/n: love you all!

divider cred: me!

Rocky’s nervous chimes make you groan and turn to bury your head in your pillow as the light cycles to the late morning light. “Female human die! Die! Die? What Wrong?”

“Rocky… please calm down. I’m alright. Grace can explain later.” You grumble.

“What if die before Grace return?!”

“I’m not going to die, Rocky! Get out!” You snap, whimpering as another wave of heat and pain washes over your body. The second you woke up, you’d realized you were sick, Ryland rushing out of each house to avoid being late to his class. Rocky’s sad tones made you frown into the warmth of your pillow, but your body protested too heavily to move.

-

Grace looks over as Rocky’s xenonite suit taps against the small platform, his class chittering in confusion at the interruption. “Hey, buddy… whatcha doing?”

“Female human being mean.” Ryland’s brows furrow before he turns to his class.

“Take a little, break, alright? What do you mean she’s being mean? She’s never mean.”

“Core temperature elevated. Was mean to Rocky.”

“How was she mean?”

“Snap at Rocky. Tell Rocky to go away.”

“She told you to go away?” Grace's brows furrow in confusion. That was nothing like you at all.

“Hurt Rocky’s feelings. Statement.” Ryland frowns, patting one of Rocky’s legs gently.

“Can you go tell Adrian someone either needs to cover my class or they need to be let out early?” The alien nods, scurrying off as Ryland quickly makes his way up the cliff steps to the house. “Hey, sweetheart…” He pushes gently into the house, hearing you groan softly. “You ok? Rocky said you weren’t doing too well.” He kicks his shoes off and slips his cardigan off, stepping into your room and finding you in a pile of blankets.

“Tell Rocky I say sorry.” You rasp out uncomfortably, turning to face your boyfriend, who gives you an affectionate smile. His hand meets your forehead, making him frown.

“Have you eaten? Got water?” You shake your head and snuggle against Grace’s shoulder, his coplgene soothing your senses.

“Rocky woke me up, then wouldn’t stop nudging me and asking if I was going to die. I…yelled at him to get out, and I feel like a bitch.”

“Watch your language.” Grace’s voice rumbles out softly, making your grip tighten. “He’ll understand you didn’t mean it.” Your head lifts just slightly to pout softly, sniffling as you do. “I think you’ve got a fever. Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll grab you some clothes and get you some food. I hope you’re expecting a Rocky-Adrian cuddle pile.”

“If Rocky forgives me. And Adrian is going to be pissed that I was mean to Rocky.”

“You’re sick as a dog… It’s going to be ok. Go shower.” 

“I love you.” You murmur, making him smile and kiss the warmth of your forehead.

“I love you.”

-

Knocks echo through the house as Grace finishes plating your food, moving to open the door and face the two eridians. “We come in, question?” Adrian chirps, making him nod and moving out of the way. 

“She’s in the shower.”

“What wrong with her?” Rocky chimes.

“She’s got a cold. She’s sick.”

“Sick? Die? Female human die!”

“Die! Die! Die?!” Both of the alien’s concern makes the blonde man chuckle.

“It’s a very common sickness that passes with rest, food, and water in a couple of days. She’ll be alright.”

“Grace, sure, question?”

“Very sure. A warm cuddle pile also helps.” Happy chirps fill the air as you step out of the bathroom, sweatpants and Ryland’s sweatshirt covering your body as you move to melt against the man.

“‘M really sorry, Rocky. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” You frown at the protective noise that Adrian lets out, skittering in front of Rocky.

“Rocky understand now! Human sick and upset, Rocky too much. Rocky's feelings hurt, but Rocky ok now.” You move from Ryland’s arms to kneel in front of the alien and gently hold out a hand. The alien sets his claw in your awaiting palm with a content purr.

“You’re not too much, I promise. I was just tired and not in the mood for so much talking. I never wanted to hurt your feelings, buddy.” The alien nods, moving closer to press against you. 

“Grace say cuddle pile help, maybe.” You smile and nod, standing back up.

“I need to eat first, and then we can have a cuddle pile, alright?” Both aliens chitter happily, doing their jazz hands as you move to get the food Ryland made.

“Feeling better after the shower?” His arm comes around your middle, lips meeting your forehead again.

“A little. I do think a cuddle pile is going to do me well.” He grins. “Wish I could kiss you.”

“You can.” He shrugs.

“You’ll get sick.” 

“Occupational hazard.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” You giggle softly, making him grin and press his lips to yours with a hum.

“Love doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s the cheesiest thing you‘ve ever said.” You giggle lightly.

“You like it that way.”

“Humans slow!”

“Hurry, eat!” Adrian grumbles gently.

“Are you joining the cuddle pile?” You sniffle, moving to blow your nose.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Can you go get them settled?”

“Take the medicine.” Grace motions to the pills on the counter, and you nod. You slowly finish the food, sniffling and coughing every so often, before setting your things in the sink and moving towards the bedroom. The curtains were pulled, and you could make out Adrian and Rocky happily skittering over the top of Grace’s form in the bed as he laughed.

“Cuddle pile?” You corak out, making all three heads snap towards you before Rocky and Adrian move to let you lie against Grace’s side. Rocky settles against Grace’s other side while Adrian presses against your upper back. 

“Female human feel better, question?” Adrian chirps, making you smile.

“Family always makes me feel better.” You affirm, making both aliens purr happily before slowly settling into sleep.

“They really do love you.” Grace hums softly, kissing your forehead.

“More than you?”

“Mmm, that’s a hard battle to win.” You snort softly, snuggling closer into his warmth. 

“I bet.” You muse, slowly slipping into a restful sleep.

[chrys-lism2]

Heater ⌬ Ryland Grace

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 900+

summary: ryland's girlfriend gets her period and rocky wants to help.

tags: fluff, menstruation, mentions of blood, rocky is a heater, kissing , established relationship

a/n: this was inspired by bad engineering by @rainiieday go read that too!!!!!!

divider cred: me!

“You ok?” Grace’s voice rumbles out beside you, his body warm beside you as you stir with an uncomfortable groan and shake your head. “What is it?” His hand cups the side of your head as his brows pinch with concern.

“My period.” A soft ah leaves his lips as his hand moves to rub your side. You pull away and get out of bed with a groan, stumbling towards the bathroom to deal with your issue. 

“Grace! Grace! Grace! Blood! Blood on bed! Where is female human? Female human dying?” Robky’s voice echoes out, making your eyes roll softly. You hear Ryland moving to change the sheets.

“She’s not dying, Rocky, it’s natural.”

“Blood not natural! Blood bad! Blood means hurt!” You hear Ryland groan, his feet padding softly against the floor. You gently step out of the bathroom, sweatpants, and underwear tucked under your arm. Your legs are bare with a fresh pair of clean underwear hidden beneath Ryland’s oversized sweatshirt. “Female human ok!” Rocky jitters happily as you give a pained smile. Ryland envelopes you in a soft hug, making you hum unhappily.

“What do you need?” His lips meet your temple.

“Heat and to lie down.” You grumble, making his hands drift down to your hips, thumbs massaging the skin softly. 

“Rocky heat human?” Both sets of your brows raise, and you pull yourself from Ryland’s embrace to look at the creature.

“What do you mean, buddy?” 

“Rocky heat, human! Sit! Sit! Sit! Hurry! Humans slow!” You grumble softly, pull Ryland to sit against part of Rocky’s tunnel, settling your back against his chest. Rocky rolls into the space between your open legs, his rocky form settling against your abdomen, pressing as close as he can through the xenonite ball. Ryland hooks his chin on your shoulder as he watches the alien with an amused gaze.

“What are you doing, Rock?” You mumble, taking and squeezing one of Ryland’s hands as another wave of pain rushes through you. He kisses the skin revealed by the collar of your shirt, lips warm against your skin.

“Rocky heat.” The alien announces, and your eyes widen as his caraphase slowly heats up against you, easing the cramps that run through your body.

“What’s he doing?” Ryland questions, making you take your connected hands and press his knuckles against the xenonite. “Is it helping?”

“Immesley,” you sigh, body relaxing against Ryland’s. Rocky chirps happily, making you smile. Your fingers press into the flexible zenonite panel, letting one of Rocky’s claws grab your finger. “Thank you, Rocky.”

“Rocky happy humans happy.” You nod, letting your head curl against the warmth of Ryland’s neck. “Rocky still does not understand why a female human is in pain.”

“Not it.” You grumble softly, making Ryland grin.

“Female humans have reproductive cycles; they last a month.”

“Reproduction good! Should not cause pain!” Rocky chirps, his claw clutching your finger tighter.

“Well, for humans, the protective inner lining and egg– if they’re not fertilized– shed, and it takes about seven days of the thirty-ish.” Rocky purrs in understanding, gently squeezing your finger.

“Human organs contract?” You nod softly, gently petting Rocky’s other fingers.

“It’s called a uterus,” Rocky repeats the word, and Ryland reaches to add it to the vocabulary in the computer.

“Heat helping, statement.” You nod, smiling as Ryland pulls you tighter against him and kisses your temple.

“It’s helping a lot, buddy… thank you.”

“Grace help, too?” 

“Grace is helping a lot.” You turn your head to kiss the blonde man softly, making him hum and clutch your hip.

“Gross!” Rocky chirps, making you pull away with a giggle. “Human mating rituals ugly.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Ryland mumbles, making you laugh harder.

“Tell Rocky other half!” 

“I can assure you that you do not want to hear the other half of it, Rock.” He mumbles, grinning as you continue to giggle.

⌬

After a long day of work in the lab, Ryland stands, stretching with a soft groan and lifting his glasses to rub his eyes before moving to the dormitory area and smiling at the sight of Rocky settled on top of you, his purring loud enough for Ryland to feel it across the room.

He moves to stand beside you, hand drifting to gently cup your cheek as our eyes flutter open. “How’re you feeling?”

“Amazing… I feel like I’ve been bathing in lava all day.” You murmur happily, making the man smile and bend down to kiss your forehead. “Hey, Rocky?” You gently fidget with his claw, waking the alien. “Can you get off for a sec so I can change, and Grace can get in bed?” And unhappy chitter leaves the alien, but he reluctantly moves off your form.

“Rocky likes cuddle.” You pat the ball softly with a grin, groaning as you stand. Ryland watches you closely, handing you another one of his sweatshirts. You hum happily as you take it, leaning forward to kiss the man.

“I love you.”

“Love you more.” He smiles. “Go get ready for bed, and I’ll meet you there.” You move to change and use the restroom before finding Ryland in bed, settling on top of him. His arms come around you, and his lips meet your forehead before Rocky happily skitters back on top of your back, heart flushing through your body.

“Thank you, Rocky.” Happy chirps fill the air before Rocky’s warm body settles into a deep sleep, and Ryland lets out a long sigh, the heat reaching him and making his hand lift to cradle your head.

[chrys-lism2]

Landscapes and Heartaches | Ryland Grace

f! art teacher! reader

ao3 link

wc: 2,500+

summary: ryland grace and his favorite art teacher

tags: fluff, so much fluff, first date, first kiss, au - no astrophage, foxes, art teacher! reader, mutual pining

a/n: love you all!!!!! no i haven't read the book!!!!

divider cred: me!

“I don’t understand how you just… make stuff.” Your eyes dart up to your door, smiling and rolling your eyes at Ryland Grace, Glover Cleveland's favorite science teacher.

“What does that mean?” He steps further into your room, the air still cool, thirty minutes before the first bell.

“There are no numbers! Nothing’s set in stone– there are no equations to figure anything out!” You laugh softly.

“I can barely do what you do, so we’re even.” You watch him come around your desk, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“What are you working on?” He muses softly, trying to find a way to further the conversation, making you shake your head.

“An example piece for the assignment I’m having them start today.” He nods slowly, watching the way your hands carefully move across the canvas, brushes even and tidy. “The need to do a value project.” He raises a brow.

“Like… monetarily?” You laugh, setting your brush back in the water.

“Light and dark, Ryland.” You laugh, making him let out a soft, embarrassed ah, cheeks going red. “You think too literally sometimes.”

“That’s kind of my… job.” He laughs along with you, making you smile. You kick his shoes softly.

“Maybe we need to get you into art.”

“I don't think you’d appreciate my stick figures.” You snort, grab your brush, and add more paint to your piece.

“I would love your stick figures.” The statement alone makes his heart flutter, averting his gaze from yours.

“You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen any.” 

“Come in on your off period! The kids love you, and they’ll probably flip if you show up and do work with them.” He watches you for a long moment, brows pinched in consideration as he shifts his weight and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Are you sure?” He looks at you over the rim of his glasses, and you can feel heat creep up your neck.

“I’d love it– they’d love it. Only if you have time.” He shrugs, a smile finding its way to his lips. He’d always find time for you, but you didn’t need to know that.

“You’d love it?” You clear your throat and focus on your painting.

“I mean– I guess– the students would like it, too.” You reason softly, making his smile grow as he watches you.

“I’ll see what I can do. Probably beats grading.” You chuckle, nodding softly.

You pursue your classroom as the student eagerly start their assignment, sketching out the first design and carefully pouring their paints. “Mr. Grace!” A voice speaks loudly, making every head snap up in the direction of the door, including your own. He gives a shy smile and waves.

“I’ve been told some of you would like to see me attempt to paint.” Excited whispers jitter around you, making you smile and motion to an empty seat. He does his best to draw his gaze from you in your element, focusing on your bright lanyard, that jingled every time you move.

“Lilly, can you explain what we're doing to Mr. Grace?” The girl eagerly nods as you help with the table you’re at. Ryland can’t help but subtly watch you from afar, tracing the lines of your smile and the way you eagerly help the kids fix their lines. He carefully follows the instructions the students around him give him, earnestly trying his best to paint a small landscape.

By the time you make your way to the table and pull up a stool, he’s red with embarrassment. “How’s it going?” You ask the table gently, eagerly looking over the students' nieces before turning to Ryland. “Mr. Grace?”

“It’s uh… green?” The table erupts in giggles. You smile, glancing over his piece.

“I think you’re doing well!” You encourage gently, making his flush deepen as he clears his throat.

“Are there any rules on adding animals?” You raise a brow, the kids around you whispering eagerly. The question made him feel foolish for a moment, a blush coating his cheeks.

“...no? Do whatever your heart desires.”

“Science does not require your heart.” He grumbles, making the students giggle again.

“But, Mr. Grace! Wouldn’t anatomy include your heart?”

“Someone was listening during my lectures!” Grace smiles. “But for the sake of this joke, science doesn’t require your heart.” The kids all laughed again, and you watched with a grin.

“Does that mean you’re saying she doesn’t have a brain? She’s not doing science!” One boy says, making your jaw drop with mock offense and making his heart flutter with panic.

“No! No! That’s not what I meant! She’s got plenty of brains! However, she’s good with being led by her heart!” He reasons, making you smile bashfully. The students erupt around the two of you and sigh at the forming ideas of their favorite science and art teaching “being in love.” He ignored the way his heart soared at the idea of love.

“You never showed me what animal you added to your painting.” You muse softly, stepping into his room, making his head lift from the papers he was grading. He smiles, waving you further in. You pull your bag tighter over your shoulder, moving to lean against his desk and look down at him.

“You’re not allowed to laugh at me.”

“Whatever you’re going to pull out, I’ve probably seen worse.” You snort softly, watching him dig through a pile of assignments before pulling out his small landscape piece. He offers it to you, and you find a small orange-and-white fox in the bottom-left corner. You grin at the small creature and its goofy smile, watching as Ryland’s cheeks flush. “A fox, hm?”

“They– they’re my favorite.” He mumbles gently, making your gaze soften.

“Really?” He nods, shifting his weight in his chair and clearing his throat. “I love it.”

“You do?” His eyes snap up to yours as an eager smile crosses his lips.

“It looks good! And it’s not half bad in terms of value. I’d give you an… A.” Your expression tightens slightly at the way he toys nervously with his pen and avoids your eyes.

“An A, huh? That’s uh– can you– uh– flip it over.” Your brows pinch in confusion as you gently flip the small piece over, finding it would be un-fox-gettable if you went out with me! -R, a soft gasp leaving your lips.

“You know that pun is horrible, right?” You giggle, making him shake his head with an embarrassed smile.

“It was the only thing I could think of.” He murmurs, making your smile widen.

“I’d love to.” You reach out to gently grab and squeeze his hand, making the flush across his cheeks deepen as he finally meets your gaze.

“Are you sure? You don’t–”

“You asked me on a date by painting me something. I think I’d been a fool to say no.”

“Miss?” You look up from your computer, smiling at the student.

“Yes, Lilly?”

“Why did you hang up Mr. Grace’s painting?” Oohs echo around the room, and you feel your heart creep up your neck, glancing at the piece behind it.

“Because I think it’s a good reminder that anyone can do art.” Lilly gives you a skeptical look as the kids start to whisper. “Get back to work!” You laugh softly, making the kids mumble under your breath.

Class progresses slowly as you make your way around the room, helping adjust lines, mix certain colors, and having soft conversations about the students’ days. “Mr. Grace!” Lucas says happily, making you look up as the blonde man sheepishly steps into the room.

“She hung up your painting!”

“Look! Look!”

“Mr. Grace, you need to practice your animals.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t insult my fox drawing abilities! My fox looks great!” He jeers softly, making the students laugh.

“Why did she hang your painting up?” Ryland’s eyes drift from yours to his painting that was now hung up among other student creations behind her desk.

“I’m willing to bet she’s already told you, and you probably weren’t listening.” You smile and nod, and the eager eyes move to yours.

“I said that I hung it up because it’s a good example of the fact that anyone can do art. Even a scientist.” The students ooh and ah, giggling as they look between their two beloved teachers.

“See? You guys need to use your ears.” Ryland grumbles.

“Are you staying for class again?” An eager voice asks, making all the eyes snap back to Ryland.

“Just stopping by today, sorry to disappoint.”

“You just want to see our teacher.” One boy perks up, making excited giggles around you.

“What if I just wanted to see my students?” Ryland tries to recover, watching as you hide a bashful smile behind your hand. 

“Alright! Alright! You all have an assignment to finish! I’m going to talk with Mr. Grace in the hall for a moment.” The blonde nods, opening the door for you, and you skeptically glance over your class.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.” 

“Are we still on for tonight?” You blurt out, making him look up at you and smile.

“If you’re still up for it.” You nod, hands interlocked behind your back. 

“I can uh– take your painting down if you’d like.” He shakes his head.

“No, no, please– I– uh– keep it up. I’d like it if you kept it up.”

“Can do, Mr. Grace.” He grins, pulling the door open again to let you back into the classroom.

You fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, glancing up to look around the restaurant every so often. You’d worn a nice dress and done your hair and makeup, shifting nervously in your seat. But the stress faded away as Ryland walked in, hair messy and glasses slightly askew as he scanned the room for you. You both smile as he sees you and makes his way to the table, sitting across from you. “I’m so sorry I’m late– the science fair–”

“Ryland– it’s alright. You’re here, and it’s only ten minutes.” He sighs softly and nods, finally letting his shoulders drop.

“I’m… really glad you said yes to all this.”

“Me too.” The waiter walks up, and Ryland orders both of you a nice bottle of wine and a starter, letting you order your main dish before following with his own. “This is a really nice restaurant.” You watch the man blush, reaching across the table to gently take and toy with your hand.

“You deserve it.”

“I haven’t gone on a date in… forever.”

“Me neither. I’ve been trying to find the courage for uh… months.” Your brows raise in surprise.

“Months?” He sheepishly smiles up at you.

“My last relationship didn’t uh… go very well. It’s been hard to… get back out there, I guess.” You nod softly, squeezing his hand.

“I haven’t been in a relationship since college. Haven’t had time… or interest. So if it makes you feel better, the bar isn’t very high.”

“Hopefully, I don’t even need to set a bar.” Your head tilts, brows pinching in confusion.

“What does that mean?”

“That hopefully you won’t even be… looking for someone else.” His voice dwindles off softly at the end as you smile at his words.

“Well, your personal bar is already through the roof at the fact that you were willing to paint me something.” 

“At least I’m doing something right.”

“You’re doing a lot of things right.”

The walk back to your apartment was slow, hands connected and swinging between the two of you. You listened to Ryland chatter eagerly about the project he had come up with for his students to start the next week, the scientific jargon confusing you, but you couldn’t find it within you to have him clarify.

You pull him to a stop as you stop at your building, pulling him from his thoughts as his eyes settle on you with a dopey smile. “Is this your stop?” 

“Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunate?”

“Want to come up?”

“Do I?” He teases, clearly lightened by the alcohol. “Yes, please.” You grin, pulling him into your building and into the elevator. “Fifth floor, hm?” He giggles, hugging you tightly and pressing you against the cool metal.

“What’s so funny about the fifth floor?” You smile, reaching up to gently cup his cheek. He leans into it as the elevator dings past the floors, humming happily at your touch. 

“Five, y’know?” You giggle, grabbing his hands and pulling him out of the elevator onto our floor.

“Can’t say I do know.” You tease, grabbing your keys and unlocking your door as he happily glues himself to your back. You manage to kick your shoes off and get out of your jacket as he happily squeezes you from behind. “You doing ok?”

“I’m doing pretty well.”

“How about you go sit down, and I’ll get you some water, hm?” You turn in his hold, brushing his hair from his eyes and gently adjusting his glasses.

“I think I’m ok.” He grins softly. “Just ok, right here…”

“You’re like a puppy.” His head presses further into your neck, making you laugh again.

“Not a puppy. A fox… You know I like foxes. And– and– Maybe I’m just happy.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, Ryland.” Your fingers card through his hair as he sighs. “And yes, I know foxes are your favorite.”

“The students are never going to let us down.” He huffs.

“Just wait till they see us chaperoning the school dance together.” A soft chortle leaves his throat before he lifts his head and presses his forehead against yours. “I really… like you.”

“I can tell.” You hum, smiling. “I think you also might be a little of a lightweight.”

“Me? Never.”

“Are you sober enough to kiss me?” He perks up, grinning.

“I’d love to.” You pull him in closer, letting his lips meet yours, making him hum happily and pull you in tighter. You pull away when the two of you can’t stop laughing. “Maybe I’m not sober enough.” 

“Guess you’ll have to stay the night, hm?”

“Can I really?” He pouts gently. 

“Promise.”

Morning comes slowly, Ryland curled against the warmth of your chest, arms clamped around your middle, as he mumbles happily. It was the first time you’d seen him without his glasses (which had been carefully stowed away on your beside table), face lax as your fingers weaved through his hair.

His sleep talking made you giggle, your body shaking beneath him, making him stir. “What’s going on?” He murmurs.

“You’re awake.” He lifts his head to glance around for a moment before he squints at your face.

“‘M not dreaming anymore?”

“How’s your head?” Your thumb brushes his temple softly.

“Fine. Was kissing you part of my dream?” You grin and shake your head.

“That definitely happened.” He slowly moves to linger over you and press his lips against yours.

“I’m sorry I got so…” You shake your head, cupping his cheeks.

“I had a wonderful night… It was amazing.” You whisper, making him grin and settle back on top of you, head against your chest.

“I’m glad you said yes.” The words are barely audible, but you can feel the rumble over them against your ear as your hand finds its way back to your hair.

“Me too… why foxes?” He kisses you eagerly again.

[chrys-lism2]

Dirty, Old, Blue Dress ଳ Will Turner

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 3,500+

summary: when jack tricks will onto davy jones' ship, he meets you. the crew's main piece of worldly entertainment.

tags: rape, non-con, underage noncon, sex slave, sexual violence!, angst with a happy ending, first kiss, trauma, nightmares, background jack/elizabeth, no bootstrap bill, canon divergence, blood, treating wounds

a/n: please mind the tags! please! please read the tags!!!!

divider cred: me!

The ship was always more humid than you would have liked. That was the thing you tried to imagine was the worst part of being on the Dutchman. Davy Jones was truly evil, and you’d felt it firsthand. You’d been kidnapped… who knows how many years ago, forced into servitude for the crew. 

The first couple of weeks were the worst. Inhuman bodies and hands all over your skin, constantly. You’d often wake with the oddest bruises, cuts, too, from the various sprouts on their bodies, or the sharp teeth growing in their mouths. None of them cared how you felt anyway, and you often closed your eyes and focused on the way the ship swayed in the mess of the sea that surrounded it.

Your dress was extremely tattered, now a dirty, ugly, blue, and the lace was browned with time. Your skin was grimy, nails broken, and cuticles full of dirt. Rope burns stained your palms after helping on the ship each morning, moving slowly with aching legs from whichever crew member had gotten to you first.

Davy Jones never touched you, only tossing you around to the crew to give them an earthly satisfaction they were now lacking. You’d grown numb, sick of the smell of rotting wood and dead fish, desperate for land.

You hated watching them plunder and destroy other ships, watching the crew kill off the remaining survivors. But this night had been different. The words Jack Sparrow had said by one of the men made Davy Jones pause and question the man harshly. You shut your eyes as every man, but him, was killed, shoulders tensed with discomfort. Davy commanded the crew to get going as they tossed the bodies off the edge of the deck, the man watching helplessly as the crew swirled around them. You stand, frozen in shock, the smallest spark of hope surging through you for the first time in years.

His brow eyes meet yours, head tilting in confusion. You move forward to gently untie his hands. “Who are you?”

“Do people still talk about the uh– kidnapped princess from the coast of Spain from the royal wedding?” You say softly, sparing him a gentle glance.

“What?”

“That’s me– it doesn’t matter…” You clear your throat and help him stand. “What’s your name?”

“Will Turner– why are you on the Dutchman?”

“The worst reason you can conjure.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, and his eyes flicker with recognition and pity. “Why are you here?”

“Let’s just say that I hate making deals with pirates.” You slowly nod. Your name rings out from Davy Jones’s lips, making you stiffen and turn to face the man.

“You’re needed below deck.” He smirks, making you sigh and slowly nod. Will watches as you descend the stairs, moving to complete the task he’s given, blocking the ideas of what was going on beneath his feet from his mind.

ଳ

He stumbles below deck after his whipping, finding you curled up in a damp corner, dress loosely hanging on your shoulders. You can’t make yourself meet his eyes as he sits beside you with a soft groan. “Whipping?” He slowly nods.

“You’ve seen a lot of them?” You sniffle and nod, ignoring the searing pain from the bite on your shoulder, the blood flowing and mixing with the water dripping on your skin. 

“I’ve had to do a few.” You whisper, noticing the way he watches the blood flow from your shoulder.

“Is that what they have you here for?” You nod, curling tighter into yourself. “If you– if you can help me find something, I will try my best to get you off this ship with me.” You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I can’t believe you.” You sniffle, looking up at him as a fresh wave of tears falls from your eyes. He reaches out to cup your cheek and wipe the tears with his thumb. 

“I don’t blame you. But I’ll try.”

“I’ll believe you when it happens.” He nods, slowly pulling a piece of cloth from his pocket and unraveling it. He gently holds the drawing out to you.

“Do you know where this is?” You wipe your eyes and nod.

“Around Davy’s neck. A death wish to try and get it.” He nods slowly, glancing away from you, clearly calculating a plan in his mind.

“I need you to get the long boat in the water once the crew is asleep.” Your eyes widen, and a sob tears from your lips, making his eyes snap back to yours.

“They’ll kill me.” You whimper weakly, making him slowly pull you against his chest, ignoring your injuries.

“I won’t let them.” You clutch the front of his shirt, the wet fabric cool to the touch as sobs wrack through your body. It felt like the first time you’d cried in months. The first time you’d felt real human compassion since you’d been taken from your home. He soothes you softly, kissing the top of your head and gently rubbing your back.

“Do you promise?” His eyes flicker for a moment, and you knew he didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep but wanted to reassure you anyway.

“I’ll get you off this ship.” You sniffle and pull away from his hold with a nod. “Can you get the longboat ready?”

“The crew should be asleep in the next hour.” He nods, kissing your forehead and slowly standing. “Where will we go?” 

“We’ll figure it out.” You watch him fondly, feeling the first whims of hope clutch the beating of your heart.

ଳ

The ocean greeted you with open arms. The stars lit the sky as the Dutchman slowly faded on the horizon. Your arms hugged your body as you shivered, the night breeze nipping at your skin. Will did not comment as you began to sob, burying your head in your hands with exhaustion. 

“How long were you on that ship?” He whispers as the sobs slowly turn to hiccups, and you wipe your cheeks. Watching the pain physically cascade through his body was eating away at him, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and cradle you, soothing you softly.

“I don’t know.”

“That dress barely fits your height anymore… it’s must’ve been a while.”

“It felt like eternity.” He nods slowly, moving his foot forward to gently tuck it around your ankle in silent reassurance as he paddles through the water. “What does the key even open?”

“That’s a question for Jack Sparrow.”

“He’s the man you mentioned when you got to the ship.” He nods softly.

“He’s the captain of the black pearl. My… acquaintance.” You let out the smallest of giggles at the tone, making him smile.

“Are we trying to find him?”

“Unfortunately.”

ଳ

The islands came slowly as the sun crept over the horizon. You could see three others standing in the sand as Will gently helps you out of the boat. “You brought company?” Jack asks, making the other two turn in your direction. You shrink behind Will, tightly clutching his hand.

“She was a hostage to Davy Jones,” Will explains, making Jack slowly nod.

“What kind of hostage?” Jack asks with a sultry tone, and you tighten your grip on Will’s hand, fear ripping through your body. His body moves before you can process what’s happening, and you look up to see Will’s sword against the pirate's throat.

“Don’t even try. We need to get that chest and her back to the ship.”

“Will?” Everyone turns to you, watching as you point out to sea, Davy Jones’s ship moving beneath the waves. The movement speeds up as the woman grabs the chest, the taller man drops the shovels, and everyone makes towards the long boat. Will gently pulls you against him, a protective arm around your waist as the boat slowly moves towards the ship. Your head drops to his shoulder, exhaustion settling deep beneath your bones.

ଳ

Will takes you into the captain’s quarters, letting you lie down in a real bed. “Can I take your dress off?” 

“Why?” You bite, moving to press yourself against the headboard, posture rigid with fear. He slowly sits, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I want to dress your wounds.”

“What?” He smiles lightly.

“I want to clean and dress your wounds. Nothing more, I promise.” You send him a defensive glare, the only noise being the creak of the old wood.

“Can I do the ones on your back afterwards?” He nods, slowly standing to gather a few things.

“Elizabeth also had an old dress, she said, it'll fit you much better. It’s also decently clean.”

“Promise you won’t do anything if I take my dress off?” He nods, sitting back beside you.

“I promise.” You watch him for a long moment, trained distrust swirling through your gaze.

“I’ll make sure the whipping wounds will get infected.” He smiles, holding out his hand.

“Deal.” Your eyes narrow for a moment before you gently shake his head and move to turn away from him. He’s met with the laces of your dress, mangled with time and the aggression that your body had faced. The lust you’d been subjected to had made multiple holes in the fabric, and the ties fell loosely on top of it all. He reaches out slowly, feeling you tense as he starts to undo them. “We have a monkey on the ship. A parrot, too.” He offers gently, trying to distract you.

“Do you really?” You whisper tightly, feeling his hands slip the fabric from your shoulders, exposing your back to him. The skin was littered with scars and cuts, some old, some new, some with dried blood around them. You gasp as a wet cloth meets your back, and Will stops, closely watching your reactions before continuing.

“The monkey’s name is Jack, which is ironic, seeing how much Jack Sparrow hates him… and no one knows the parrot’s name. It’s just Cotton’s parrot.” You stay silent, picking at a loose thread of the bedding beneath you.

“Why did you save me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Pirates don’t have much humanity.”

“Can I be the one to change that?” He’s met with comfortable silence.

“Does the parrot talk?” Will laughs softly.

ଳ

By the time Will strips off his shirt and lies on his stomach, your whole body had been gently cleaned by him, and he’d help you redress in Elizabeth’s old dress, a soft green with fewer ruffles. You grab the rag, slowly cleaning the cuts on his back. He watches you, head resting on his arms tucked beneath his head. “Do you think you’ll ever talk about what happened to you on that ship?” He asks softly, making you pause.

“I think I’d vomit if I tried.” You answer.

“When was the last time you stepped on land before today?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Do you think people still look for you?” Your eyes meet his for a moment before you shake your head.

“They probably believe I’m long gone.”

“Were you taken from land or sea?” He utters with a furrowed brow.

“The land. From a royal wedding.”

“Then you’ve been on that ship for almost seven years.” Your hand pauses.

“How do you know?” 

“That’s the last time we know of Davy Jones being on land. He’s cursed to ten years at sea and one day on land… how old were you?” Your eyes fill with tears, choking out a sob.

“Seventeen.” You whisper, making his eyes widen as he sits up and pulls you into his embrace. “Do you know what month it is?” He whispers it gently, making you frown and tuck your head beneath his chin.

“I must’ve just turned twenty-four.” You whisper, making his hand drift up to cradle your head and kiss the crown of it.

“Happy birthday.”

“Being freed from Davy Jones might be one of the better… presents I’ve gotten.” You sniffle, wiping at your eyes. 

ଳ

You stood at the front of the ship, letting the breeze catch the fabric of your dress as the sunset over the horizon. Davy Jones was dead, Jack and Elizabeth taking his place. Barbossa– whom you weren’t fond of– had taken the captain's offering of the black pearl as you sailed back to Port Royal. You tense as arms curl around your waist and a chin tucks itself over your shoulder. “Just me.” Will soothes, making you nod slowly and relax. “Ready for solid ground?”

“How far out are we?” You whisper.

“One more day at sea. We should arrive tomorrow night.” You nod, tracing the soft skin of his arms.

“I’m worried I won’t be able to sleep.” His brows furrow, squeezing you softly to continue. “The waves help me sleep.”

“I would tell you if it goes away, but I’ve never spent seven years at sea.”

“What will you do in Port Royal?”

“Buy the blacksmith’s shop. Make more swords.”

“Will you miss all this?” He nods.

“But… I think I need solid ground. I need a home.”

“The sea is a home.”

“But not the right one for me.” He whispers against your ear.

“I’m excited to have more than one outfit.” He laughs softly, holding you closer and pressing a kiss to your temple.

ଳ

You stand, frozen as you face the dock. The rest of the crew had walked ahead, Will included, turning to notice the way you hadn’t left. “Are you alright?”

“What if I’m cursed, too?” You whisper, making his expression soften as he walks back to you.

“You’re not. You’re safe now.” You take his hand as he walks just in front of you, pausing when you do to finally step onto the dock. You freeze, looking at your feet on solid ground before letting out a loud sob and finding yourself enveloped in his arms. He held you, ignoring the passing stares and pulling you in closer.

“I’m– I’m– I’m on land–” You cry, making him smile softly.

“Let’s get you a place to rest.” You nod, taking his hand and following him into the bustling town. Not many eyes are drawn to you as Will pulls you towards the blacksmith, stepping into the space. You glance around the space, eyes looking at the donkey and smiling.

“What’s its name?”

“That’s Roise.” You let go of his hand, stepping up to the animal and gently petting her nose. 

“Where are we?”

“My new blacksmith shop.” Your head tilts as you look up at him, brows furrowed. “I was a blacksmith before I met Jack. Gathered enough gold to buy it off, my old boss.

“What do you make?” 

“A lot of the swords for the royal army.” He grabs one, looking over it before offering it to you, but you shake your head. “There’s a space upstairs that we’ll live in.”

“We?” He sets the sword down, giving you a gentle smile and walking up to you, squeezing your hands.

“I’m not going to save you from almost a decade at sea and leave you as soon as we port.”

“I have awful nightmares.” You blurt.

“Who doesn’t?”

“I barely remember how to be a person.”

“Then I’ll help you remember.”

“I can’t satisfy you.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m– I’m run through…” Will cups your cheek with a light smile, kissing your forehead.

“Why do you think that’s all it takes?” Your brows furrow, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“I’m a better man than those– those fish-fucks.” The silly reference makes you giggle loudly, making his smile broaden. “That’s not what I’m trying to get out of this or out of you. I’m not blind to the healing you have ahead of you.” You nod slowly, throwing your arms around his shoulder and hugging him tightly. He eagerly returns it, rubbing your back. 

“You really mean it?” He pulls back to look at you and nods.

“However long you'll want and need it.” You nod, pulling your eyes from him. Rosie makes a silly noise, making you giggle, your eyes drawn to the way your lips stretch into a smile. “I need to head to the market and get us some food and such, alright? Why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest?” You nod, hugging him gently again before heading to the staircase.

You step into the living space, which is cramped but incredibly homey. You look over the boots by the door; the cloaks hug up; the space feels incredibly Will. You wander into the space after you kick off your shoes, push into the bedroom, and find the bed. The sheets were tousled and unmade, but it greets you warmly, and the smell of Will surrounds you as you pull the heavy blanket over you.

ଳ

When Will returns, he quietly makes his way up the creaking wooden stairs, setting the food he got on the small table before turning to his room and pushing the door open. A soft snore slipped from your lips, your body curled tightly in the blankets, the rays of the evening sun highlighting different parts of your form. He moves, slowly sitting beside you and watching as you stir at his presence.

The moment of peace is broken as a shirek leaves your lips and you bolt up, pressing yourself against the headboard as tears helplessly spill over your waterlines. Will moves back, holding his hands up in surrender and closely watching as your mind clears of sleep. “Just me.” He soothes, making you nod and gulp down a few breaths. When you finally calm down, he pulls you into his arms, rocking you gently as you let his musk surround you, comforting your clouded mind.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffle, making him shake his head.

“Don’t be. I should’ve–” You clutch closer, cutting him off and shaking your head.

“Nightmares.” A kiss finds its way to the crown of your head as you take a deep breath, fingers unlenching from the fabric. “Can I bathe?” He smiles and nods.

“Let me get the water for you. Keep resting.” You nod, pulling away and lying back down, watching the way he stands, shooting you a smile over his shoulder.

ଳ

You gently twirl a few bubbles between your fingers, the soap slowly scrubbing the grim from your skin. The water had gone cold, and your fingers had pruned, but you couldn’t care. The freshness felt like a rebirth; the clean clothes awaiting you made you feel even better. You jump at a soft knock before claiming at the sound of Will’s voice. “You ok?”

“Fine! Sorry!”

“Don’t apologize! Take your time.” You sink further into the water, taking a deep breath before softly reaching between your legs. The skin was unbearably sore, still healing from the trauma it had faced. You gasp as you press too hard against a small tear, the sound followed by a whimper as you pull your hand away.

When you step out of the bathroom, wiping your eyes with a sniffle, Will quickly shoots up to meet you halfway. “What’s going on?”

“I– I just— it just–” He nods, grabbing your hands and patiently awaiting your words.

“Talk to me…”

“It– hurts.” He frowns.

“What does?”

“Everything?” His brows furrow in thought for a long moment before it dawns on him, and he pulls you into his arms.

“We can take you to a physician soon, alright? Get you checked over?” You watch his eyes as they dart across your face.

“Will you stay with me if we do?” He nods, cupping your head and kissing the top of your head.

“The whole time.” 

ଳ

The first time Will had kissed you, it had been a late night in the blacksmith shop. The governor had ordered over twenty swords, and Will had barely stopped working. You’d come back from a quick stop at the market (one of the first things you were starting to do by yourself), some food cradled in your arms. You set it down, hiding something behind your back and approaching Will. “Hey, you.” You whisper, making him smile and face you.

“How was the market?” He hums, gently kissing your temple.

“Slow. I got you something.” He raises a brow.

“Did you?” You nod, nervously biting your lip as you bring the small bouquet out from behind your back. His grin widens, pulling you in closer. “They’re beautiful…”

“You really think so?” Your eyes light up, making him lift a hand to cup your cheek.

“A lot like you.” You scoff gently, rolling your eyes with a shy smile. “I mean it.” He smiles, bringing your eyes back to his.

“That’s too kind.” He shakes his eyes, and you catch the moment his eyes drift to your lips, making you tense in his hold.

“No?” He whispers, making your face pinch in thought. You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back before nodding.

“Please.” He smiles, gently pulling your face forward to kiss you. You pull back after a brief moment, blinking quickly and catching your breath.

“You ok?” He whispers, cradling the side of your head as you nod.

“I think so.” You give a gentle, prideful smile, making him pull you in tighter. 

“The flowers are lovely.” You sneak a kiss to his cheek, making his shoulder shake with silent laughter. 

love you all!!!!

[chrys-lism2]

Rodeo 𓃓 Jack Sparrow

f! cowgirl! sheriff! reader

ao3 link

wc: 2,600+

summary: jack meets the sheriff of a small town on a visit west of the mississippi

tags: fluff, bittersweet ending, jack being jack, background will/elizabeth, cowgirl/pirate, allusions to sex

a/n: love you all!!!!

divider cred: me!

The west side of the Mississippi River was more humid than Jack had anticipated, the nearest town to the port further than he would’ve liked. “Why are we here, Jack?” Will had asked as they approached the small desert town. 

“Adventure, mate.” Will rolls his eyes, scoffing as they enter the town.

“This is nothing like Port Royal,” Elizabeth exclaims softly, tucked against Will’s side. Jack scans the wooden storefront, reading the sign and watching as the townsfolk avert their eyes from the three strangers in their town.

“What do we have here?” Your voice echoes, hand firmly nestled on your pistol, hand brim low over your eyes. All three strangers turn your way, and your head tilts, eyes narrowing. Jack scans your form, not bothering to hide the fact that he clearly likes what he sees.

“Who might you be, lassie?”

“I asked you first.”

“So?”

“This is my town. Who are you?”

“Names Jack Sparrow.” He gives you a glittering grin, making you give him an odd glance.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” The couple behind Jack snorts softly at your word, making Jack’s facade crumble softly.

“I’m Captain Jack Sparrow?” 

“What is that supposed to mean to me?”

“We’re pirates.” The shorter man says, making Jack give you a tight-lipped smile. Your fingers flex around your pistol.

“Pirates. In my town? Are you here to rob my people? Take our things?”

“Aye, lass, you think so lowly of us.” 

“You’re pirates.”

“We’re looking for a place to settle for a few days.” The woman speaks.

“What are your names?”

“Will and Elizabeth Turner,” Will speaks, making you nod.

“All three of you. Follow me.” You turn on your heel, spurs clinking with each step. They glance at each other before following your command as you walk towards the sheriff’s station.  “I want all of your weapons on my desk.”

“Now that’s just not fair–”

“Weapons or spending your days in my jail cell.” You raise a brow, gesturing to the wooden desk beside you. Elizabeth starts, untucking a gun from the waist of her skirts and pulling her sword from her hip. Will mirror her actions, making Jack roll his eyes. He sputters out a disagreement as you push him into his cell, ripping the pistol from his hip and his sword from the other. You look at the bars, tossing his things on the desk before turning back to Will and Elizabeth. “Mr and Mrs Turner, welcome. Feel free to roam around.” They both smile, giving Jack a sparing glance.

“You are… something else, Ms Sheriff.”

“You’re a terrible listener, Mr Sparrow.”

“Captain.”

“I don’t see your ship. Therefore, there’s nothing to be captain of.” He opens his mouth to retort, but swiftly shuts it with a nod of acknowledgment. He watches as you sit, kicking your feet up on the desk and gently pulling Will’s sword from the sheath. “This… is gorgeous.”

“Kid’s a blacksmith.”

“He made this?” Jack nods, watching you through the bars.

“You are something else, lass.” 

“Flattery is not getting you out of that cell.”

𓃓

You peruse the town at sunset, a slow trot of your horse as the townsfolk give you respective nods. You catch Will and Elizabeth at the saloon, hopping off your horse and making your way inside. “I hope you two know you don’t need to worry about getting him out. Just planning on messing with him.” They both snort.

“The silence is nicer than you’d think.” 

“I’ll talk to the innkeeper to have her give you two a room. Give you some privacy.” Will presses a kiss to Elizabeth’s shoulder and makes you smile. “Enjoy your night.” Elizabeth reaches out to gratefully squeeze your hand.

“What is this? It’s much better than rum.” She comments, making you smile proudly and take a glass from the bartender. 

“Whiskey.” You shoot her a wink, throwing the drink back in one go before leaving the saloon and mounting your horse again. You finish the lap around town, tying your horse in her stable for the night before moving back into the station. “Bored yet?” Jack grins.

“Far from it.” Jack gave you a charming grin. He watches as you open a drawer of your desk, grab a bottle, and pass it through the bars. “You spoil me.” He grins, popping off the cork and taking a long sip. “This is good.”

“Whiskey. We make some of the best around here.”

“I am definitely leaving with some of that on my ship.”

“If you swindle my whiskey maker, I’ll shoot you dead before you ever see the ship again.” Jack raises a brow, taking another sip.

“Why are you acting so protective?”

“Are you protective of your ship? Your crew?”

“All but Will.” You raise a brow.

“That’s how I feel about my whiskey maker. She works hard and deserves fair pay for her work.” You watch Jack take an impressive few chugs.

“How’d you become sheriff?”

“I killed the last one.” Jack’s eyes widen before her grin.

“That so?”

“He was an unjust piece of shit.”

“That’s not very ladylike.”

“Neither is the hole that I’ll put through your skull if you keep talking like that.” You reach to grab and scan over Elizabeth’s sword. “Do you guys actually fight with these?” He nods proudly.

“Will– don’t tell him I said this– has the best form. Could gut you real quick.”

“A bullet is faster than a sword.” Jack shrugs. “Not to mention you haven’t even seen me lasso.” 

“That’s a show I’d like to see.” Jack’s heart kicks as a small smile breaks across your face.

“Maybe you’ll get one.” You stand, grabbing all the weapons and tucking them into the locked drawer in your desk. “If you don’t do anything stupid overnight.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Whiskey’s stronger than rum. I gave it to you for a reason.” His brows furrow before he barks out a laugh.

“You’re something else, sheriff.” You tip your hat.

“As are you, Captain.”

𓃓

Morning comes slowly, the sun filtering through the barred window as Jack stirs with a groan, the headache thrumming at the base of his skull. He shifts, glancing around himself and remembering the cell he was in. Your voice had echoed through his mind all night, Captain consistently repeating through his dream, your voice taunting his ears. He glances down, ignoring the tent the dreams had left him with in his pants, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Wanna learn how to lasso?” Your voice echoes, making him look up and send you a smile.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Scared of horses?” He shakes his head, and you nod, unlocking the cell. He follows you into the bright morning light silently, shamelessly watching the way your hips move and grinning at the way your jeans frame your legs. You pull open a gate into a ring, closing it behind him. The appaloosa stood tall with a soft whinny, her large eyes moving to Jack. “This is Wendy.”

“Wendy? That’s the best you’ve got?” You shoot him a glare.

“I will put you back in that cell.” He raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head with a smile. You hand him a few carrots. “Give these to her, it’s the easiest way for her to like you.” He holds his palm out, and Wendy cautiously sniffs his hand before happily eating the carrot.

“See? I’m good with all kinds of women.” You roll your eyes, gently adjusting the saddle before placing your boot in the stirrup and swinging your leg up and over the horse. Jack watches, moving to lean against the fence, scanning your body as you gently walk Wendy around the ring, petting the side of her neck.

He watches you intently, ignoring the way his pants tighten even further as you gently speed up, body bouncing on top of the horse, thighs clenched around the animal for balance. You draw your rope from your hip, let go of the reins, and swirl it above your head. He’s snapped from his oogling as the rope lands around him, tightening around his arm and being yanked towards the horse as you pull her to a stop. You raise a brow, looking down at him. “So?”

“So why am I not good with you?” He blurts, making you raise a brow.

“Maybe because you're just a bumbling pirate passing through.” He scoffs in offense, untangling himself from your rope.

“Bumbling isn’t the word I’d use.” He scoffs, watching carefully as you dismount the horse.

“Then if you’re so good, get your ass on my horse and lasso me.” You hold the rope out, making a brow raise, but he takes it. “And don’t hurt my horse.”

“I’d never hurt sweet Wendy.” He smiles, getting up on the horse and fumbling with the reins for a moment, and awkwardly holding the rope along with them. You watch from beneath the brim of your hat with a brow raised as he gets Wendy going around the ring, her hooves kicking up dust. You snicker beneath your brim, watching Jack awkwardly fumble with the rope.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” You snicker.

“Of course I–” Wendy’s bucks, making Jack tumble off the animal's back, hitting the dust with a sound of surprise. You walk over with a knowing smile, looking down at him.

“You ok?” He lets out a sound comparable to a whimper, and you squat down to cut his cheek. “That’s going to hurt for another two days. Can I feel your ribs?” He raises a brow.

“Why on earth would you need to do that?” He wheezes. 

“Need to make sure you didn’t break any.” You watch him think for a long moment before nodding. Your hand gently presses against each bone, making him grunt uncomfortably. “I think you’re ok.”

“Does this mean another two days in your company?” He teases, slowly sitting up and making you roll your eyes.

“If you so decide.” You help him up before moving to check on Wendy.

“I’m worried that if I stay around you anymore, I won’t be able to leave.” He mutters.

“I find that hard to believe. Pirates long for the sea like nothing else.” You snort.

“Then we can call it a fleeting affair, yes?” He hums, hand landing on your hip. You look at him over your shoulder, his face a breath away. “A little fun?” You roll your eyes and smile. 

“A little fun doesn’t sound too bad.” He grins, spinning you sound to face him and pulling your hips against him fully.

“So the sheriff falls for the forsaken pirate.” He teases, making you roll your eyes again.

“Don’t push it.” You mutter, lifting your hands to cup his cheeks and pull him into a deep kiss. He hums happily, hands trailing your sides, moving to press your body against the metal fence. Your fingers tangle in your hair as you let out a soft grunt, hips rolling just slightly.

“Now, now don’t start something you can’t finish.” He breathes against your lips, making you give him a cocky grin.

“You don’t think I can finish this? I’m not some prissy Brit in one of the ports, Jack. I know what I’m doing.”

“Then I’d be a fool not to ask you to prove it.”

𓃓

The morning sunlight filters through your sheer curtains as a rooster caws out somewhere in the distance, making you shift with a soft groan. Your body ached from riding Jack into the mattress the night before (the position being the easiest with the ache that lingered in Jack’s ribs, but what you had been doing to him made him forget the pain), but as you moved to look at him, you smiled. “Captain…” You murmur teasingly.

“If you call me that again, you’re going to have to deal with me again this morning,” Jack grumbles, making you laugh.

“What? Too tired to go another round? That’s your excuse?” You giggle as he grabs you and moves over top of you. “Watch your ribs!” He smiles at your concern, leaning down to kiss you.

“Don’t tell me I’m too tired.” He grumbles, rolling off of you as you continue to laugh. “But I can agree that you most definitely know what you’re doing.” The coldness of his metal rings makes you shiver as his hand finds your hips. You look over, watching him for a long moment with a gentle smile.

“You’ve got to pack up the ship today, hm? Get ready to get back out there.” Jack smiles lightly, leaning to give you another kiss.

“I’ll come back. Swear it.”

“Can’t imagine you’ve got much trade ‘round here.”

“I’ll make trade. With you. Find a reason to see you.”

“You don’t need a reason to come see me. Just come see me.”

“The other reason will be for the whiskey.” You snicker, nose brushing his bare shoulder.

“You’ve got to go find Will and Elizabeth. I let them stay at the inn.” His hand drifts to cup your cheek, kissing your forehead.

“You’re so eager to get rid of me.”

It’ll make this all hurt less. Your heart cries pathetically in your chest as you give him a soft smile.  “Just don’t want to… uh– mess anything up.” He raises a brow, tracing the apple of your cheek.

“I know what I’m doing. We’ve got a few more hours to spare.”

𓃓

You gently push into the inn, Jack on your heels as you gently greet Shirley. “Hey, you!” The older woman smiles, coming around the counter to hug you tightly.

“How’s my lovely innkeeper this fine morning?” You smile.

“Just wonderful. What can I do for ya, sheriff?”

“You know that lovely pirate couple I had you take in? Have you seen them this morning?”

“Oh, those two stumbled in really drunk last night,” you ignore Jack’s snicker behind you.

“Have they come out yet?” The woman shakes her head, making you nod. “What room?”

“Sixteen.” You smile and nod, squeezing her hand before quietly moving through the inn. You face the door and knock, smiling at the groans behind the door and Jack’s arms moving around your waist. 

“Wakey! Wakey! I need you two on the ship! We need to get ready to go!” Jack calls out, burying his face against your shoulder, making you giggle and squirm.

“We’ll be out soon!” Elizabeth calls out, followed by another groan of discomfort.

“If you’re not there by sundown, we’re following the code!” Jack calls out before taking your hand and dragging you back out of the inn. “I want something to remember you by.”

“What do you mean?” He gestures to the various charms littering his clothing and hair.

“Something like this.” He watches you think for a long moment, brows pinched in deep thought, before your eyes light up and you grab his hand. You tug him into a small fabric shop, kindly greeting the owner before strolling over to a small basket of colorful beads. Jack watches closely as you dig through them before pulling one out and offering it to him. He takes it gently, smiling at the small wooden horse bead.

“Is that good enough?” He smiles, tugging you in for a gentle kiss.

“Perfect.”

𓃓

You stand on the dock, watching as Jack commands the crew before making his way to you. “Promise you'll come back?” You say softly, reaching up to touch the bead now threaded in his hair.

“Where else am I going to get whiskey?” He grins, tugging you against him. You lean up to kiss him gently, making him hum happily.

“Just don’t end up in my prison again, alright?” He grins, squeezing your sides and making you squirm.

“No promises.”

[chrys-lism2]

Moonflowers 𖢻 Thorin Oakenshield

f! human! taller! reader

ao3 link

wc: 5,600+

summary: thorin meets a human princess at the erebor ball

tags: everyone lives, fluff, first meetings, first kisses, dwarven customs, sexism, allusions to sex, soft thorin, metioned kili/tauriel, made up human kingdoms

a/n: love you all!!! this is so long lol so I hope you like it!!!

divider cred: me!

It started with a mere visit to Erebor. The gates had been opened after the kingdom had been rebuilt, and as a royal, your family had been cordially invited to the festivities within the mines. Your parents had drifted into the royal chaos, your older brother moving to woo the visiting princesses from the realm. You’d found yourself sitting atop one of the vast ledges, overlooking the party with a soft smile. “Our festivities bore you.” The deep voice rings out behind you, making you gasp and turn, and you are met with the new dwarven king. You quickly scramble to stand and curtsy.

“King Thorin.”

“You are not at the party.” He raises a brow, making you sputter out a soft string of words.

“I can assure you it is not boring me.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Why are you?” You blurt, making his eyes widen as he looks up at you before a gentle smile breaks across his face.

“I cannot deny the irony you speak of. Parties are not… my thing.”

“Mine neither.” You smile down at him.

“What kingdom do you come from?”

“Princess of Pithia.” He nods, giving you a kind bow.

“Your company is most welcome.”

“Even from up here?” You smile lightly, making him nod.

“If you do not mind company.” You shake your head and sit back down. He moves to sit beside you, watching the glittering party below. “Your brother likes the company.” You snort, rolling your eyes.

“He will take the throne long before I even see the chance.”

“You men are odd like that. Dwarven queens are very common.”

“My father is traditional like that.” Silence stretches for a long moment before he glances up at you.

“Do you wish for the throne?” You give a tight smile and nod.

“Not for the reasons of my brother, he wants the lavishness… the power.” He watches you closely, blue eyes trained on your mouth as you speak.

“And what do you wish for?”

“To help my people. As any queen should.”

“It’s a noble goal.”

“One that will probably be met years after my passing.”

“How old are you?” You raise a brow and look over at him, making him sputter and give a sheepish smile, “My apologies, m’lady. I forgot that’s not a kind question.” You wave it off with a soft laugh, his ears perking up at the noise.

“I do not mind, for I am twenty-three.” He nods softly, looking back to the party. He smiles as he sees Kíli happily dancing with Tauriel. “My father is hoping to marry me off. Send me to a kingdom I do not know to get me off his hands.”

“Does your mother agree?” 

“She does not. But my father does not take kindly to being disagreed with.”

“Would you care for a dance?” Your head snaps to face the dwarf.

“Pardon?”

“A dance, m’lady.” He stands, holding his hand out with a charming smile. You gently take the hand, larger than your own, and stand.

“If you don’t mind me kicking off these shoes, for I cannot dance in heels.” He snorts softly, gesturing for you to do so. You discard the shoes, feet hidden beneath the hem of your dress, before resting your other hand on his shoulder. His hand rests gently on your hip as he looks up at you, starting to sway to the soft music filling the mines. 

“You deserve the throne.” He says softly, pulling you in after a spin. The move was a bit awkward because of the height difference, but you both made it work. 

“You have spoken to me once.”

“Once enough to understand that truth.”

“You speak so highly of me.” He grins, softly shaking his head.

“Your beauty aids in my compliments.” Your jaw drops softly at the line as heat creeps across your cheeks.

“Your words are too kind.”

“My words are true.”

𖢻

“My dearest.” Your father steps into the room you were staying in as you slowly get ready.

“Yes, father?”

“You have been asked for breakfast!” Your brows furrow as you turn to face the man.

“By who?” His grin widens proudly.

“King Thorin. Looks like we’ve finally found you a worthy husband.” The words twist uncomfortably in your gut as you give a fake smile.

“I will be ready soon and then will find him.” He nods, pulling you into a soft side hug and proudly patting your shoulder. 

You spend your time perusing the long hallways of the mine, dwarves passing you by without a glance as your father’s words repeat in your head, a horrible echo chamber of expectation. “If you’re looking for breakfast, you’ve passed it.” You shake your head and turn to the voice, finding Fíli giving you a kind smile.

“Have I?” He nods, pointing you in the direction of two large doors.

“Thorin is waiting for you.” You nod slowly, fully turning on your heel and slowly stepping into the great hall with a soft gasp.

“Good morning.” Thorin’s voice makes your eyes drift from the heavy curtains, and you send him a kind smile.

“Sorry, I am late, got a little lost.” He nods, pulling out a chair for you to sit.

“It happens. The kingdom is not small.” He watches you closely as he sits, watching your eyes scan over the food. “Are you alright?” Your eyes drift up to him.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you alright?” You give a tight-lipped smile and nod, reaching to plate your food gently. He raises a brow but matches your actions. “Have I read this wrong?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Thorin.” You say softly.

“Would you like to talk about it?” You pause, fork halfway to your mouth.

“What?”

“Whatever troubles you.” He clears his throat, softly shifting in his seat.

“I doubt you would like to hear it.”

“I would not ask if I did not want to hear it.” You consider his words for a long moment before setting your fork down and sighing, shoulders slouching.

“My father saw the request for breakfast before I did. He believes I’m here because I’ve finally found a worthy husband’. He sounded so proud.”

“You are aware I have not asked you to breakfast for proposal.” You slowly nod, rubbing your face.

“He’s never sounded so proud. And pride comes from a man! Not anything I’ve done!” Thorin slowly nods, brows furrowed in frustration.

“You do not need to continue this–”

“That’s not what I said!” You snap, shrinking back in your seat and muttering a soft apology. His gaze softened sympathetically. “I just– I want this to be on my terms. Not royal ones, not his… mine.”

“Then let it be yours.” You glance at the dwarf.

“I apologize for yelling over such a fine breakfast.” A smile breaks across his face as he blushes and looks down at his food.

“It’s the most entertaining breakfast I’ve had in a while.” You watch him for a long moment before loudly laughing. He laughs along with you, watching you affectionately as the sound swirls in his ears. 

𖢻

“You have taken a liking to my daughter.” Your father approaches Thorin’s throne with a proud smile, making Thorin’s eyes narrow.

“Yes, I have.”

“She needs a man. A firecracker she’s always been. Needs someone to tame her. Lock her down, if you know what I mean.”

“Can’t say I do.” Thorin huffs. “Dwarven couples are quite equal.” Your father gapes softly. “And if you are done diminishing your daughter, you may go.”

“I will speak of my daughter however I may like.”

“Then you may leave my kingdom. She can stay; you may not.”

“You have no right to my daughter.”

“That’s up to her.”

𖢻

Thorin finds you in the gardens a few evenings later, watching the way your fingers gently twiddle with the petals. “I’ve never seen these flowers.” He smiles, moving to stand beside you and look up at you. He could not deny the way your height did something to him. It added to your beauty and was a physical representation of the hold you’d taken over his heart.

“Most of them are native to Erebor.” You nod slowly.

“I heard you talked to my father.” He scowls, shoulders tightening defensively. “You stood up for me.”

“I could not listen to him deny your sorrows and diminish your strength.” You nod softly, turning to face him. 

“Do not move.” Your hands move to grab a small section of hair on his head, and you quickly twist it into a braid, tying it off with a small strap of leather. He watches closely, a deep blush coating his cheeks as you gently pluck the flowers and tuck them into the braid. “Done.” He stares up at you, mouth agape.

“You braided my hair.” He breathes out slowly, making a small bit of panic flush through your veins.

“Did I do something wrong?” He smiles, taking one of your hands.

“That is up to you. Braiding is a very important ritual among dwarves, often a courting gesture.” Your eyes widen, your hand tightening around his as you softly sputter out.

“I didn’t know–”

“It’s quite all right. I’ll consider it repayment for standing up to your father.” Your expression softens into a gentle smile as you nod.

“Deal.” He gently tugs on your hand, starting to lead you through the garden and softly telling you about each flower.

𖢻

“She braided your hair?” Fíli’s head shoots up at Kíli’s words, eyeing the way Thorin blushes.

“She did not understand the customs,” Thorin mutters, rolling his eyes at the way Fíli and Kíli snicker at his red cheeks.

“And she put moonflowers in it!” Kíli grins.

“Did you tell her she proposed?” Fíli teases, making Thorin groan.

“I’ve known her for a mere week! I told her about how braiding is an act of courtship. Not the fact that adding flowers is a proposal.”

“If you keep that in all the dwarves–”

“I know what they will assume! I will take it out in the morning.” Kíli raises a knowing brow.

“Not tonight?” Fíli mutters.

“I guess I finally understand the appeal of a taller woman. Thorin mutters, making the brothers cheer and pat his shoulders.

“Your father would be pissed knowing each of us has a non-dwarven, taller than us woman.” Kíli laughs, making Thorin roll his eyes with a smile.

“Sigrid isn’t that much taller than me,” Fíli mutters, smiling at the thought of the girl.

“Tauriel’s height just adds to the appeal.” Kíli grins, making Fíli punch his shoulder.

“And now you’ve finally found someone!” Fíli grins at Thorin. He slowly nods, reaching up to gently touch the braid in his hair with a light smile.

“I guess I have.”

𖢻

“My daughter likes you.” Thorin’s head turns, eyes moving from overlooking Dale to face your mother with a kind smile. He bows politely.

“I’m glad.”

“As am I. I heard the way you stuck it to my husband.” His face falls.

“I meant no harm–”

“He needed to hear it one way or another.” The woman smiles, stepping forward to take one of his large hands within her own. “She deserves someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Do you truly like my daughter? More than a marriage plan?”

“I… yes. A lot. She’s…”

“Unique?” He smiles and nods softly.

“She’s truly something else.” He looks back over his landscape, the glittering torches that lined the streets of Dale, with a wistful smile at the thought of your face. 

“Will you promise me something, my dear?” He glances back at your mother with a nod. “Do not treat her as her father does. Be… kind to her, please. She deserves what her family could not give her.”

“I would not dream of giving her anything less. She uh– accidentally proposed to me last night?” Your mother raises a brow with a knowing smile. “Braided my hair with moonflowers.”

“Is that a proposal to dwarves?” Thorin nods softly.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell her. Saved her the embarrassment.”

“You smile at her the way you should. Like you’re in love.”

“I probably am.” 

“Our family is to depart tomorrow.” Thorin freezes, hands gripping the railing.

“You… are.”

“You may ask her to stay, but I cannot control the response that she will give you.”

“It would not hurt you if she doesn’t go back?”

“She deserves much better than Pithia, and I believe you can give her better.” Thorin looks back over to your mom.

“I will give her everything. Everything I can. I’d give her the kingdom if that’s what it took to–”

“Mother?” Your voice rings out, making both of them turn. “Mother!” You grin and move to hug the woman. “Father wants the two of us for dinner.” Your eyes drift to Thorin, and you give him a kind smile, reaching out to grab and squeeze his hand.

“Enjoy your dinner.” Your mother watches with a knowing smile as he kisses your hand before letting your hand go as you follow after your mother.

“The dwarf likes you, my dearest.” You look down at your feet as you walk, grinning.

“I hope he does.”

“I see the way he looks at you… when he speaks of you.” You glance at your mother.

“Are you saying this because you want me to marry him?” 

“I want you to love him if it happens. Take your time and make your own choices with it all. Please don’t let your father get into your head. Take this at your own pace and if it’s love… let it be love.” Before you step into the great hall, your mother pulls you into a tight hug.

“I will, mother.” She nods, kissing your head before heading into the great hall. Your father sat, happily chatting with your brother at the head of the table.

“My beautiful girls!” he bellows, ale frothing along the edge of his moustache. You smile awkwardly, taking your seat and gently gathering some food on your plate. “Your brother was telling me he’s started a courtship with a princess from Othria!” You nod slowly, glancing at the gloating smile your brother gives you. “How are things going with the king?” 

“They’re fine.” You shrug, beginning to eat. Your father raises a brow, face falling in distaste.

“Fine? I need better than fine.”

“Father–”

“Your brother is going to take over Pithia and you’ll what? Laze around all day in the gardens? An unmarried woman?” 

“Father.”

“I hate to interrupt dinner.” Thorin’s voice rings up, making your head snap up from your food. “I have a question for your princess.” Your father motions for him to continue. “I’d like to extend the offer of an extended stay in Erebor.” Your eyes narrow just slightly at him before they drift to your father.

“Well?” Your father raises a brow, and you sputter out a few words. Your eyes drift back and forth before you stand, the wooden chair screeching against the stone, before you push past Thorin and out the great doors.

“Do not mind my sister, Thorin.” Your brother scoffs, rolling his eyes and swirling the ale in his cup. “She isn’t a proper woman.”

“She’s plenty a proper woman.” He growls, fist slamming on the table. “You two are the ones who are not proper men.” Thorin scoffs before moving to follow after you.

𖢻

He finds you in the same place he found you the night of the party, sitting on one of the beams and overlooking the mines. “You do not have to stay here.” He mutters softly, slowly sitting beside you and watching you scoff.

“I want– I want to stay here– I just– I just want it to be my choice.” He watches you with wide eyes as you start to cry. “I don’t want to stay here just to get married! I want to be happy, Thorin! I want to be happy with you!” You cry, your voice echoing through the mines. His hand gently envelopes yours as he brings it to his mouth.

“Then stay. Be happy. There’s no rush for anything.” You look to him, letting out another sob before he pulls you against his chest.

“Do you– you promise this isn’t just because you have to marry me?” He nods, kissing the top of your head as he rocks you gently in his embrace.

“You could stay here in Erebor and never talk to me again, and that would be enough for me.”

“It would kill you if I never spoke to you.” You giggle gently, wiping your nose. He grins, reaching out to wipe your cheek.

“But if that’s what it took to make you happy, I’d accept it.” You watch him for a long moment before nodding softly. 

“Will you tell them? And tell my mother to come to my room.” He nods, kissing the top of your head again before helping you stand.

“I will have someone bring you food. Go rest, I’ll send your mother.” You smile, leaning down to kiss his cheek. 

𖢻

“You deserve better than your father.” Your mother whispers gently, kissing the top of your head as she holds you in a tight hug.

“So do you.” She pulls away slightly, cupping your cheek with a loving smile.

“I’ve known that my whole life. That’s why I'm aiming to give you a better one.”

“You don’t mind if I stay in Erebor?” She shakes her head.

“I want you to go where you are happy.” You watch her for a long moment as tears well up in your eyes.

“Thorin makes me happy.” You choke out softly, making her softly nod and kiss your cheek.

“Then by all means, stay. Please.” You nod, pulling her back in as you cry into her shoulder.

𖢻

The hot springs were slowly becoming your favorite spot on the mountain. You visited almost daily, Thorin making sure you’d have the comfort of being alone (though he often joined you himself). He’d sit at your side, gently caressing your arm and watching you with a smile as you relaxed.

“You look beautiful.” He hums, kissing your shoulder. Your head lolls to the side to smile at him.

“You flatter me.”

“How can I not? Look at yourself! Let alone like this.” You giggle at the kisses that trail along your shoulder and against your neck, his scruff lightly scratching your skin.

“Thorin!” You giggle happily, splashing him with the warm water. He lets out a guttural laugh, gently splashing you back.

“You truly are something, princess.” He grinned, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I hate when you call me that.” You mumble, making him grasp your hand beneath the water.

“I know you do.” 

“We should get out of the water.” You mumble, making no effort to move.

“And why’s that?” You move to look at him with a gentle smile.

“I was just trying to find something to say.” You giggle.

𖢻

You stood on the highest balcony, Thorin’s arms wrapped around your middle, looking up at you with eyes full of soft admiration. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You grin softly, moving to brush your fingers through his hair.

“Because you’re beautiful.” He hums, shutting his eyes at the feeling of your fingers in his scalp. “Did you know, in that first week of meeting me, you proposed?” Your movements stop as your brows furrow.

“No, I didn’t.” He smiles, grabbing one of your hands to gently kiss your palm.

“In dwarven culture, you did.”

“You didn’t think to tell me?” 

“You were struggling enough, and I didn’t want to make you face the embarrassment. Fíli and Kíli would’ve sucked you dry.” You pause for a long moment, looking down at him.

“How?”

“Braiding one’s hair, but the moonflowers are the kicker. It’s a very common way for dwarves to propose.” Your jaw drops for a long moment, hands frozen in his curls.

“Are you playing with me?” He shakes his head, kissing your palm again. “Well, I didn’t… mean to play with you. When I did that– when I– proposed.”

“I would’ve said yes.” He cheeses, making your eyes widen.

“You’d known me three days.”

“That was enough.”

“Thorin–”

“I mean it.” You smile gently, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “My tall goddess.” You burst into laughter at the line, making him grin.

“I’m far from a goddess.”

“Not to me.”

“You dwarves should look to the humans for better pick-up lines.” You tease.

“Whatever it takes to flatter you.”

𖢻

“You still haven’t kissed her?” Kíli remarks, watching Thorin dress in his royal robes.

“There hasn’t been a good moment,” Thorin grumbles.

“She’s been here nearly three months, and you haven’t found a good moment to kiss her?” Fíli scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Fine! Fine! I’m planning to do it tonight.”

“At the ball?” Kili’s brows raise.

“In front of everyone?” Fíli looks over his shoulder.

“No grander gesture than that.”

“Does mom know?” Thorin turns to face Kili.

“No time like the present.”

“Dís isn’t going to do well to the fact she’s a human,” Fíli mutters gently.

“Then Kíli can take the throne for all I care!” Thorin bursts out, making the brothers look at him in shock.

“You’d give up… the throne for her?”

“Yes. I would.” He growls, setting his crown on his head.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Fíli asks gently, eyes moving to meet Kili’s.

“You question my love for her.” 

“I question the fact that she is human. You know how dwarves are–”

“Then maybe they need to change. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find her and make sure she’s ready.” The door slams behind him, making Fíli and Kíli exchange a glance.

“Mom’s not going to like this,” Kíli mutters, turning back to the large mirror.

“I will say I’ve never seen Thorin look at someone like that.” Kíli nods in agreement.

“I just hope mom doesn’t make a scene.” 

“You know our mother.”

𖢻

You nervously smooth the fabric of the dress Thorin had given you, watching your reflection in the mirror. You flinch at the noise of a knock echoing through your space. “Come in!”

As gasp sounds behind you, along with the sound of the door shutting, and you find Thorin’s eyes in the mirror, his jaw slightly agape. “You look… beautiful…”

“You flatter me.” You jest gently, watching him approach you, his large hands finding your waist.

“I didn’t think it could get any better, but in a traditional dwarven dress? I don’t even want to risk another man looking at you.” His voice is deep, his words followed by a swallow before he presses a kiss to the center of your back.

“You speak so highly of me.” You mutter, turning to face him and take his hands.

“How can I not? Look at you!”

“All your opinions will change if you dance with me tonight.”

“If?” His brows furrow.

“You don’t have to dance with me! I heard dwarven princesses–”

“Why on Middle Earth would I dance with someone else when you’re here?” You try to speak, but the insecure words do not leave your lips. Your nerves settle slightly as he gently rubs your hips. “I will be dancing with you and only you.” You nod, gently pushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, thumb moving to gently caress his cheek.

“For what?”

“Everything. All of this. A life I enjoy.” He grins proudly, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm.

“I’d give anything for you to be happy like this.” The words make the nerves in your gut be replaced by a flock of excited butterflies. “I need you to wear something.” You watch him reach into a pocket of his royal attire, pulling out a small wooden box.

“Are you…?” He shakes his head with a kind smile.

“It’s a family ring. Let's the other princes know not to ask you for a dance.” You open the box, scanning the silver ring before gently slipping it onto one of your fingers. A possessive current flows through Thorin as he watches the action, grasping your hand to kiss the ring. “Ready?” You shut your eyes and take a deep breath before nodding and taking his arm, stepping into the vast corridors.

The walk wasn’t long, the music slowly starting to swell as you approached the party. “I’ve heard rumors of your sister attending.” Thorin smiles and nods.

“Dis, yes. Fíli and Kili’s mother.”

“How often do you get to see her?”

“Not as often as I’d like. She likes to take on the diplomatic tasks that require travel.” You nod softly as the two of you turn around a corner, finding the bustling ball. You gasp as the decor and the sheer number of people, the smile and laughter emanating from the group. “What can I say? Dwarves know how to party.”

“Thorin!” Both of your heads turn, finding a dwarven woman whom you immediately recognize as Dis. Her eyes matched his, but her hair was a shade lighter than his. She had a small beard, and her head was decorated with various intricate braids.

“My sister!” Thorin bellows happily, letting go of you to happily hug the dwarf, making you smile gently at the interaction. But the smile falls as soon as Dís looks up, eyes narrowing on your form.

“Who’s this?” You softly introduce yourself, watching as she turns to Thorin with a scowl. “She’s human.”

“Yep.”

“Human. Thorin.” She raises a brow before looking back to you, your shoulders shrinking in on themselves.

“Do not make a scene.” Thorin grits out, and you notice the pairs of eyes starting to draw in your direction. “She’s excited for the night, and you will not take that away from her.”

“We need to talk first thing tomorrow morning. Without her.” She spits, glaring at you before walking off. You stand, frozen in place as your eyes slowly move to Thorin’s.

“Don’t listen to her, please.” He whispers, taking your hands.

“Am I an issue?” You choke out softly, making his eyes soften.

“You will never be an issue. Don’t listen to Dis. Care for a dance?” You take a long glance around, shifting your weight and taking a deep breath.

“Yes, please.” You whisper, taking his other hand. “They’re all looking at me.”

“It’s your beauty. Believe me.” You raise a brow as he moves to place a hand on your waist and start to sway with him. He watches you closely, eyes narrowing softly. “Are you alright?” Your eyes snap to his.

“Are you sure this is ok?” You whisper, making him frown.

“This as in us?” You nod slowly, squeezing his hand. “I don’t think you understand how much I’m willing to lose for you.”

“Don’t speak like that…” You whisper.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I am not worth your kingdom.” He grins, squeezing your hand.

“Correct. You’re worth more.”

“I don’t want your family to hate you.” Your voice rises slightly, your feet stopping.

“I do not care about my family when it comes to you.” You scoff, rolling your eyes and stepping back, voices hushing around you.

“Stop saying things like that.” He shakes his head, reaching out to grab your hand.

“Do not dismiss me.” He grumbles softly, watching you closely. 

“I cannot mean more than your kingdom.”

“Love means more than my kingdom!” He blurts out, gasps surrounding the two of you, the music slowly dwindling to silence as your chest heaves with breath.

“Thorin…” He steps into your space, bringing your hand to his heart. 

“This beats for you. No matter what my sister says, no matter what my nephews say, “ you briefly hear Kili’s offended hey before focusing back on Thorin, “I will give up this kingdom for you. I love you.” He whispers, making your eyes swell with tears. You sputter out softly, scanning across his face, unable to make yourself speak. 

“I have to go… now. I have to go.” You whisper, pulling your hand from his grip and turning to weave through the crowd.

“Look what you’ve done!” Thorin roars at Dis.

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love with a human!” Thorin scoffs, pushing through the crowd after you, catching a glimpse of your dress as it wooshes around a corner, a fleeting glimpse of color he can’t help but rush after.

He finds you at the gate, overlooking Dale, your arms hugging your shaking form as your sobs echo through the empty night air. “My love…” You choke back a soft gasp, turning to face the dwarf, who hugs you tightly. 

“I’ve embarrassed you… in front of everyone.” He holds you tighter, feeling the way your body trembles. 

“I do not care.” He mutters. You let out a few more sobs before pulling away to look down at him, cupping his cheeks.

“Did you truly mean what you said?” 

“All of it.” You sniffle, eyes scanning his.

“You love me?” He nods, grasping your hand with his and tenderly kissing your palm.

“More than anything.” 

“Will you truly lose the throne?”

“Only time will tell.” You frown, moving slowly to sit down. He watches with his brows furrowed before sitting beside you.

“Are dwarves normally this brash with decisions about love?” You whisper, making him smile.

“Are humans not?” You turn your head to look at the dwarf, smiling softly as you wipe your tears.

“I think I love you, too.” You sniffle, making his eye widen as a smile graces his face.

“Do you?” He fully sits up.

“You’re missing a crucial part of human courtship.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’ve basically been courting me for three months, but you have yet to kiss me.” You sniffle with a gentle smile. He grinned, moving to sit on his knees to be level with your face.

“Would you like me to change that?” He whispers, reaching out to cup your jaw as you nod. He watches you for a long moment, eyes drifting from your eyes to your mouth. “May I?” You groan softly before giggling and pressing your lips to his. He hums, freezing for a moment before tugging him into his embrace and deepening the kiss. 

When you finally pull back, you wipe the last of your tears as you giggle, forehead dropping onto his shoulder. “Was I that bad?” He teases, cradling your head. 

“No… ‘m just that happy.” You grin against his shoulder, fur clutched tightly in your hand.

“As I am.”

𖢻

The morning came slowly, sunlight slipping through the window as you stirred, curling tightly against Thorin’s bare chest. You hum happily, watching him sleep for a long moment before resting your head back on his shoulder and tracing the tattooed designs along his chest. He grumbles and snorts softly, shaking his head before settling his head back against the pillows. “Thorin…” You murmur.

“What?” He grumbles.

“It’s time to get up…” He reaches the hand that wasn’t trapped beneath your body to rub his face with a deep, sleepy grumble.

“That tickles.” He mumbles, making your finger still before giggling.

“Not what you said last night.” You tease, making him smile as you move up to look over him. 

“My body was preoccupied with a few… other… things.” You laugh loudly, leaning down to kiss him. “Dís is going to want to see you soon.” He hums, pinching a frown before pulling you into another kiss.

“I’m ready to give up anything to have you.” He whispers against your lips as you drag your fingers through his hair.

“I hope you don’t have to.” He smiles, slowly setting the two of you up before kissing you again. 

𖢻

“You can’t let a human be queen of Erebor! It was already a journey enough to revive it and kill Smaug!”

“It’s my kingdom!” Thorin yells.

“It’s our kingdom! This could ruin things for Kíli and Fili! They’ve waited years!”

“And you think I have not? I’ve waited for the throne, yes, but I’ve also waited for love!”

“Mother.” Kíli clears his throat, making the two dwarves turn to the brothers.

“Yes, Kee?”

“Thorin is not… the only one to not love a dwarf.” Dis’s brows furrow.

“And what might that be?”

“Her name is Tauriel. An elf from Mirkwood.” Dis’s jaw drops.

“You are kidding, yes? Fili, is he kidding?”

“You sound old-fashioned, mother…” Fíli speaks up, “This could be revolutionary! We could forge bonds with both the elves and humans! Trade and alliance!”

“The humans and elves have betrayed us before! Who’s to say this won’t be any different?”

“Love!” Thorin blurts, making her eyes snap to his. “Love is what makes it different!”

“Just let it play out, mother, please,” Kíli says softly. “This is the happiest Thorin has been in years! There’s not even an engagement! Just let us be happy!” She sputters out before letting out a long sigh and shaking her head.

“Know that I am not opposed to war if something goes wrong.” She grumbles, making both Kíli and Thorin smile.

𖢻

You shriek loudly as Thorin’s arms wrap around you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. “Did she say yes?” He sets you down, tugging you down to kiss him.

“Welcome to Erebor, princess.” You giggle happily, eagerly kissing him back.

“Wouldn’t this make me a queen?”

“Once we’re married.” He teases lightly, making you kiss him again.

[chrys-lism2]

Rattle » Legolas Greenleaf

f! human! ranger! reader

ao3 link

wc: 5,200+

summary: legolas lets a ranger and her daughter into mirkwood.

tags: kid fic!, post hobbit pre lotr!, single mother! reader, fluff, human/elves, thranduil is a bitch as per usual, fluff and angst, happy ending

a/n: love you all!!!!!

divider cred: me!

The birth had been short. Spread out in the forest, aided by a small group of traveling elves. Short as the man that had given you the baby, an unnamed dwarf whose face you couldn’t remember, and had left you pregnant for sixteen months.

Foila was bigger than the average human baby, leading to a slightly complicated birth, a pair of lungs she was determined to cry off. The elves had left you with some vials of medicine and food, three days after the birth, an intricate blanket swaddled around the bright blonde hair on the girl’s head.

She grew slowly, chubby and always swaddled against your chest, often earning the two of you free meals at bustling inns you stayed at. It was, of course, difficult to continue as a ranger with a baby, her babbling often making it hard to hide and scare away animals, but you loved her too much to care.

Winter was fast approaching when you reached Mirkwood, humbly asking for entrance. The guards glance at each other for a long moment before one moves inside. You wait patiently outside, admiring the beauty of the nature that surrounds you, before you hear the gate creak open again. “Who are you?” A voice echoes, and you turn back to find a tall elf, his blue eyes fixed on yours.

“Just a mere ranger.”

“Why do you ask for entry to Mirkwood?” Foila babble happily, and you smile lightly, cupping the back of her head.

“I ask for food. I need winter clothing for my baby. I do not intend to stay long or cause any harm. Just some hospitality before the winter.” He raises a brow, clearly in distrust of your intent, his eyes drifting to the baby.

“How old is she?”

“Three months.”

“Stay here.” He mutters, turning back into the caves, the large door shutting behind him. You shush Foila as she whines, bouncing her gently against your chest.

“It’s almost time for supper, my love.” You murmur, kissing her forehead.

The gate opens again, making you look back up at the blonde elf. “You may stay in Mirkwood for a fortnight, and we will have some things prepared for you. Dinners are just beginning.” Your eyes widen in surprise before you smile.

“That much hospitality is a gift… thank you…”

“Legolas.” You gasp, moving to cradle Foila’s head and bowing. “There is no need for formality. Let me lead you.” You nod, taking Foila out of her swaddle and moving to hold her on your hip. The cave walls swell around you as you walk beside the elf. “Have you ever seen Mirkwood?” You shake your head.

“I’ve only heard stories.” You mutter whistfully, bringing a smile to his lips.

“Legolas!” A deep voice echoes out, making both of your heads turn. The taller man was clad in silver elven robes, his hair longer than Legolas’s but lacking braids.

“Father.” Your eyes widen before you bow.

“King Thranduil.”

“You brought a human.”

“She is merely seeking hospitality.” 

“You failed to specify that she was human.” His eyes don’t leave his son’s as you pull Foila closer.

“I will bear her burden.” Thranfuil raises a brow, finally moving his gaze to you.

“Where is the father of your child?” Your eyes widen, taken aback at the disrespectful question.

“If you must know, I couldn’t tell you. He’s not involved in her life.”

“You humans and your odd practices of intimacy.” Your jaw tightens, and Foila squirms at the feelings of your displeasure. “How old is she?”

“Three months.” The king's brows shoot up in surprise.

“She’s very large for a human child.”

“Father.” Legolas cuts in, easing the tension and softening your stance. “I will take her to the guest quarters.”

“You’re allowing her hospitality?” Legolas nods, hovering a hand gently over your back to guide you away from the taller man. “This conversation is not over, my son.” You glance up in time to watch the younger elf roll his eyes, making you smile. 

“He lives up to the things I’ve heard of him.” Legolas snorts gently, a smile creeping across his face.

“The glowing reviews?” You laugh, making Foila squeal happily. “She is chatty.”

“She is.” You brush the blonde hair from her eyes.

“Lots of hair for such a young child.” You give a tight-lipped smile and a shrug as you climb the stone stairs beside him. He scans your face for a long moment, eyes narrowing. The walk through the caverns continues in silence as you admire the intricate torches lining the walls.

“I’ve always found elven decor so intricate and beautiful.” You mutter. “I’ve never seen much.” He gently turns to a door, pulling the solid wood door open. A fireplace sits to the left, a rug sits in front of it, and a lounge chair sits beside it. The large bed sits on the opposite wall, shimmery white sheets and a heavy blanket folded on the end. “Oh my…” You whisper.

“I will have someone bring a bassinet.” You nod, stepping into the warmth of the room and setting Foila in the middle of the bed, to which she babbles happily and feels the softness of the sheets between her chubby fingers. Legolas can’t help but smile as he watches the baby, fascinated with the young life.

“Thank you, Prince Legolas… this… this is so wonderful.” He nods kindly.

“Meals will be brought three times a day… I was asked to find out if she’s eating solid foods yet.”

“Only soft ones.” You hand-comb through your baby’s hair, making her give a gummy smile.

»

You nursed Foila, watching the fire burn as you hummed a lullaby, smiling at the eagerness of her face. “I bet you’re tired.” You whisper.

Across the caverns, Legolas slowly approached his father’s throne, watching the way his brow raised at his presence. “Finally, here to finish our conversation?” Legolas merely nods. “How can you trust her?”

“She doesn’t bring ill intention.”

“And how do you know?”

“We would feel it.” Thranduil rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Humans are tricky, Legolas.”

“There is no greater innocence than a young mother.”

“There is no father–” Legolas feels his nostrils flare.

“How can you speak of her like that? We do not know her story!”

“All the more reason we cannot trust her!”

“She needs help before the winter!”

“Why is that my problem?” 

“It’s mine! I invited her in! I will watch and take care of her!”

“You are acting like a child.”

“Caring for those around me is childish?” Legolas accuses, making Thrandil bury his head in his hands.

“If she betrays us, the betrayal lies upon your shoulders.”

“I knew that when I let her in.” He turns on his heel, walking down the steps and tracing the path to your room. He knocks with a soft breath, hearing your voice behind the wood.

“Give me a moment!” You call out, pulling your blouse back over your exposed breast, lifting Foila in your arms as she tiredly blubbers against your shoulder. You pull open the door, smiling at Legolas. “What can I do for you?”

“I was… hoping to indulge in your presence.” Your brow raises. “Babies are not… common among elves.” You nod and grin, opening the door to let him in. He sits by the fire, watching as you set Foila on the ground. His head tilts in interest before the baby slowly starts crawling towards him. You sit in the armchair, curling a blanket around your form and watching with a smile. “Can I hold her?” He asks softly as the baby babbles and reaches up towards him.

“Yes, but I will warn you, she loves hair.” He nods, lifting the baby into his lap. Her small fingers curl around one of the braids by his ear, giving it a soft tug and making him laugh in amusement. You watch for a long moment. Feeling your eyelids drop, knowing your daughter was safe.

As Foila slowly starts bobbing her head in exhaustion, Legolas looks up to you, finding you asleep in the chair, blanket clutched in your hands. “Mommy needed a break, hm?” He whispers, standing with Foila cradled against his chest. The baby squirms for a moment before settling as he trails across the room and lays her in the bassinet. “Sleep.” He whispers, tracing her small cheek. He straightens back up, turning to face your sleeping form. Your body was in a position he couldn’t imagine was comfortable, and he moved to lift you, trying his best not to wake you. You shift in his arms before letting out a long breath as he lays you in your bed, pulling the blankets over you. He snuffs the lamps before shutting the door behind him.

He moves towards his quarters, his heart feeling lighter beneath his ribs. “You cannot grow fond of her.” Trhanduil’s voice echoes behind him, making his steps pause.

“She’s merely my guest.”

“I cannot find it within me to believe you.”

»

The next three days passed slowly, full meals and long walks through the caves filling your time. Word of the baby had spread, and you were often stopped, the immortals wanting to meet such a small life. Of course, Foila loved the attention (not all the eleves liked their braids being tugged on), and most didn’t mind giving it.

Legolas made a point to stop by each night, joining for dinner and playing with Foila until she fell asleep. You watched happily, at ease with the comfort of knowing her safety. Legolas would tell wild stories (which Foila could not understand, but she knew to laugh at his funny faces and nosies) before settling her in the crib or handing her back to you. 

“I have an offer for you.” He’d said the morning of the fourth day as you adjusted Foila on your hip.

“Hopefully it’s good.” You tease, making him shake his head with a smile.

“We have bathing springs deeper into the caves. Tauriel– she’s a healer– has offered to give you a full pampering.” Your eyes widen.

“That’s too kind–”

“You’re rejecting?” He raises a brow.

“No– gosh, yes please.” He grins.

“I can watch Foila for you.” A redheaded elf moves to stand beside Legolas. “Tauriel can escort you.”

“Can I bathe Foila later today?” They both nod, and you eagerly hand Foila to Legolas.

“If she gets fussy–”

“Give her juice or change her.” Your jaw stops mid-word, heat creeping up your cheeks before you nod. You blow Foila a kiss before following after the elven woman.

“He’s very fond of your child.” Tarueil offers kindly, making you smile bashfully.

“She likes him, I can tell. Really likes his hair, too. I assume it’s the softness.” She nods, opening a door into a warm room, a hot spring set in the middle.

“May I help you undress?” You raise a brow but nod, assuming it was probably a custom you didn’t understand. “Elven women help with each other’s hygiene, a common practice.” You nod, letting out a soft ah as she unties the back of the dress you’d been given.

“How deep is the water?”

“Nine-ish feet, I believe.” You smile, stepping out of your clothing and diving into the warm water. Your muscles relax instantly as you surface, Tauriel watching with a loud laugh. “That’s quite an entrance!”

“Not elegant enough to be an elf?” You tease, making her laugh again. You find a ledge to sit on, your back facing the woman as she tends to your hair. You let out a long sigh, body sinking pleasantly beneath the easing heat.

»

“What shall we do without Mommy, hm?” Legolas smiles, bouncing the happy baby in his arms. “You are something else, youngling.” She giggles, grasping one of his braids. “How about a tour of Mirkwood? Hm?” He nods to himself, slipping out of the room after changing her into a fresh diaper.

He tells soft stories of his people as he walks the caves, letting her touch different textures and happily squeal at those passing by. He leaves the caves, taking her onto an open balcony overlooking the waterfalls and trees, most without leaves, a cold chill in the air. “Winter is coming.” He whispers into her hair as she curls into his warmth.

“She left you alone with the child.” Foila shrieks horribly in his arms at the sight of Thranduil, making Legolas want to laugh.

“Tauriel took her to the bathing chamber.” Thranduil nods slowly, glancing back at the child.

“Let me see her.” Protectiveness flares from somewhere Legolas doesn’t want to acknowledge. He gently turns Foila, who screams again, desperately pressing back towards Legolas’s chest. Thranduil scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Humans are so fragile.”

“She’s a baby.” 

“You barely cried.”

“She barely cries around her mother. This is the first time I’ve seen it.” She’s good at reading people, he wants to mutter, biting his tongue. 

“You barely cried around your mother.” The words struck Legolas’s heart slowly, watching his father retreat into the caves. He clutches Foila closer, ignoring the tears that well in his eyes.

»

When you return to your room, skin clean, nails filed and trimmed, hair clean, and body relaxed, you can’t help but quietly giggle at the sight that greets you. Legolas is sprawled out on your bed, Foila, babbling softly in her sleep against his chest.

You quietly move across the room, sitting beside the elf’s form and smiling at the messy braid beside his ear. You gently undo the clasp around it, delicately pulling the strands apart before reseparating the hairs and restarting the braid. His eyes flutter open about halfway through as you gather another small section of hair. “Don’t move.” You whisper, gaze pinched in focus.

His hand moves to cradle the sleepy weight that sits on his chest. “I did not mean to fall asleep–” You smile kindly.

“Do not bother with apologies. She falls asleep the easiest beside someone else.” You whisper, continuing the braid. The weight of your small action settles over him, and a blush coats his cheeks, spreading over the tips of his ears. You were human, of course, you didn’t understand the customs of braiding his hair, but the idea of the act made his heart race. “I’m not good with fishtails… I hope it’s to elven standards.” You gently clasp the end of the braid.

“Fishtails?”

“That’s what we call this type of braid.” You whisper, finally meeting his eyes and taking in a wistful breath as they meet yours.

“I took her around the caves and up to the surface. It started snowing.”

“Did she like it?” You bend down to kiss the back of her head, your hand resting on the top of her back, some of your fingers dancing on top of Legolas’s.

“Her lungs are somehow louder with her excitement.” He comments, smiling at the baby as you giggle.

“Probably got those from her father.”

“You do not remember him?” You shake your head.

“Ale does many things to a human.” He smiles lightly. “But I would not have it any other way.”

»

“You know that human myth of love at first sight?” Legolas asks Tauriel, finding her fixing some of her arrows.

“I can only imagine why you would be asking that.” She gives a knowing smile.

“My father would kill me.”

“His opinion should not block your heart.” Legolas glances up at her, hand drifting up to touch the braid you’d left in his hair.

“She braided my hair… Foila had messed it up, and as I was sleeping with the baby on my chest, she took the effort to rebraid it.”

“I can assure you she does not understand the customs. She barely understood the bathing chambers.” 

“That’s what I thought. She will only be here for nine more days.”

“Make her stay or go with her on her journeys.”

“My father–”

“Your heart, Legolas.” She whispers.

»

It was a crisp winter morning, which made the caves cooler than usual and made Foila fussy. “Why is she so upset?” Legolas asks gently.

“She’s not a fan of the cold. Especially when she wakes up, just like her mother.” You huff, trying to wrangle the squirmy child. Legolas watches with an affectionate smile, then walks over and takes the girl from your arms.

“The weavers are making some winter clothes for her.” He hums, bouncing the baby in his arms. “Has she gotten bigger?”

“She grows fast.” You hum. “Not to mention how kind you all have been with the food.”

“Shall we walk to the spring?” You nod, grabbing a few things and letting Legolas continue to carry Foila, who babbled grumpily in his arms. You walk beside him, smile gently at the other elves walking by, and stop to hug Tauriel.

“I’m going to teach her to swim– or at least to surface today.” Legolas’s eyes go wide, protectiveness flaring.

“She’s too young.”

“Dwarven babies tend to find those skills early.” The scuff of Legolas’s boots echoes through the cave, and you freeze in horror.

“What?”

“Nothing– it’s nothing. I didn’t say anything–” You stutter. Foila whines at Legolas’s stiffness, squirming and reaching out for you.

“You told me she was human.”

“...on my side, yes.” You mutter out. He hands Foila off to you with a scoff.

“Last door on the left.” He mutters, turning on his heel and walking through the caverns. You stand, frozen in dismay, watching his blonde hair disappear. You slowly move to find the door to the spring, stepping inside and gently setting Foila on a soft rock.

“Looks like we can kiss Mirkwood goodbye, hm?” You ask, gently readying Foila for the water as well as yourself. She babbles gently, clearly understanding something was wrong. You step into the water, wading out into the deeper part with Foila tucked against your chest.

The hour is spent gently washing Foila and making her laugh with the bubbles and splashes of water before slowly letting her learn to swim. You gently let her go, encouraging her legs to kick up to the surface and find the air.

When you slowly step out and dry both of you off, dressing you both in fresh clothing, laced with the scent of fresh forests, you take a deep breath, stepping back into the long caverns. Tauriel’s face is the one you find, pinched in worry as she makes her way to you. “Are you alright?”

“What did you hear?” Her hand cups Foila’s head with a gentle smile.

“That she is half dwarf.” You nod slowly.

“You’re not upset.” She shakes her head, pulling you into a light hug.

“I was almost banished for loving a dwarf.” Your eyes soften.

“Where is he now?” Her gaze darkens for a moment.

“Died in battle.”

“Oh, Tarueil, I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head with a smile.

“He was wonderful. And so is Foila.”

“Has the news gotten to the king?” She sighs and nods slowly.

“No offense, I would recommend packing your things.” You nod.

“Is… is Legolas ok?” The soft worry and pain in your voice makes Tauriel look up at you knowingly, wrapping an arm around you and moving towards your room.

“He… feels betrayed. He’s upset he was… tricked–”

“I didn’t–”

“I know. He feels like he betrayed his people. But I can promise you, his anger will not linger.” You look up at the redheaded dwarf.

“How can you know?”

“I don’t need to know. I can see it in the way he looks at you.” She whispers, making butterflies creep through your ribs,

“It’s only been a mere week.” She shakes her head.

“Don’t humans believe in love at first sight? That’s how I felt meeting Kíli.” You watch her closely as you step back into your room. You look over your small number of things, suddenly overcome with sadness at the thought of leaving.

“I’ll pack my things.” You whisper, feeling Foila asleep against your chest, and Tauriel sends you a sympathetic gaze, watching you lay Foila on the bed.

“I wish you the best, my friend.” You hug her again before shutting the door and moving to pack your things. Sobs suddenly escape your lips, tears cascading down your cheeks in dismay as you pack your things. You glance at the bassinet, finding a small green blanket.

“For her.” Legolas had said with a soft smile, Foila eagerly taking it from his hands. “It was mine.”

“I cannot ask you to give that up to her–”

“I’m not giving it up, I’m offering.”

You bring the fabric to your nose, taking in Legolas’s scent with another soft cry as you tuck it into your bag. As you gently close your bag, the door opens, and you stiffen up, quickly wiping your cheeks. You turn, met with the sharp glare of Thruanduil, Legolas stood behind him, face etched with an emotion you could not name.

“You are a liar.” The king’s voice rings out, making your shoulders drop.

“I don’t understand why I had to specify.”

“You’ve brought a dwarf mutant into my kingdom. That’s betrayal enough. I expect you out of my kingdom by sunrise.” You nod, giving a polite bow as the king files out. When you look back up, Legolas has stepped into your space, looking down at you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, eyes filling with tears again. He scans your face, eyes lingering on the swelling of yours, his heart beating horribly out of his chest.

“I am sorry.” He says gently, making your brows furrow. “I shouldn’t have run… I shouldn’t have cowered. She is just a baby.” You scan his face in disbelief.

“I have to leave.” You mutter, making him nod as you gently set a few pieces of fabric on the bed. You watch, eyes softening at the baby clothes. 

“The weavers sized them up for the growth she’ll have over the winter.” You nod slowly, reaching out to touch the soft, white fabric.

“Thank you for the hospitality, Legolas.” He looks down at you, heart stirring uncomfortably beneath his ribs, breath caught in his throat along with a word he couldn’t make himself mutter.

“I hope I will see you again.” He chokes out, making you face him, fists clenched with discomfort.

“Mirkwood was wonderful.”

»

Winter came fast after you’d left the gates. The forests were blanketed in snow, slowing your travels, but Foila didn’t mind. The elven clothing was warm to her skin, not to mention the share of your body heat swaddled against your chest. You stopped in small towns and villages as you moved, letting the other dote over your baby, but it never felt the same as watching the elves indulge in the youth of your child.

Legolas had not stopped thinking of you. The weeks passed slowly, and his fear increased as word of a devastating blizzard reached his ears. He was restless, unable to calm his heart. Your safety and Foila’s giggles swirled helplessly in his dreams before he’d sit upright, sheets tousled around him.

“Father.” He’d approached the throne early the next morning, making Thranduil raise a brow.

“It’s early.”

“I’m leaving for the forests.”

“Why? The blizzard–”

“I will not leave them in the cold to die. They are mortal.”

“She should’ve thought of that before sleeping with that dwarf and continuing her journeys as a mere ranger.” Legolas’s gaze narrows angrily. 

“I have made up my mind–”

“This is your heart, not your mind. She is not worth this turmoil.”

“She’s worth more than that kingdom.” Thranduil watches his son closely, overwhelmed with a feeling of watching his late wife argue with him.

“My son–”

“I’m finding her and bringing her back.”

“Your mother would’ve done the same.” Thranduil blurts out suddenly, making Legolas’s eyes widen. “You let her out into the forests to save a hurt butterfly once. Please just– just come back.” Thranduil swallows, making Legolas slowly nod.

His trek was long, scanning every part of the forest he could in the snow, worried that each step could lead him closer to discovering your possible mortal demise, Foila still tucked protectively against your chest. He desperately tried to push the ideas away as his journey continued.

»

You had found a small cave to rest in as the storm slowly ramped up, the snowflakes glittering in the moonlight. You watched helplessly, knowing this storm was nothing to mess with. You’d wrapped Foila in her warmest clothes, but she continued to whine and fuss against your chest. “I’m sorry, my love.” You whisper. “I don’t like the cold either.”

The night passed painfully slowly, your form restless against the cold air. Your fingers felt like icicles as you pulled your blanket tighter around Foila. Your lips were probably blue, tears of discomfort frozen to your cheeks.

“She still matches your quality of disliking the cold, hm?” The voice makes you jolt, reaching for a small dagger in defense. “Why don’t you have a fire going?” You let out a soft sob of relief as Legolas approaches you.

“It was too windy… my hands are too cold.” You whimper, making him grab something from his small bag and gently pull gloves over your hands.

“Is Foila warm enough?” You nod, wiping your nose softly.

“Why are you here?” He smiles, watching you closely.

“I couldn’t– the guilt– the storm– I just– I needed you safe.” He whispers, making you glance up at him.

“Your father–”

“Said my mother would’ve done the same.” He moves to sit beside you, blocking the wind. “We’ll travel back to Mirkwood once the snow has slowed.” You nod slowly, letting your head drop to rest on his shoulder in exhaustion. He smiles, kissing the crown of your head as he feels your body go lax with much-needed sleep.

He watches the snow until the sun slowly creeps through the flakes, looking back over to you as Foila stirs and blinks up at him before letting out a happy squeal and making your head shoot up. Foila despratley wiggles from your swaddle and reaches out to Legolas, tugging on his braid with a gleeful giggle. You watch with a smile, seeing the way he gently greets her and smooths her clothing. “I was worried it was a final dream.” You whisper, tucking your head back onto his shoulder.

“I kept having dreams of the two of you joining the forests… finding you in the spring.” He whispers.

“I was hoping that if I didn’t make it, someone would at least find her.” Legolas shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s a mother’s love.” You reach out to cup Foila’s cheek.

“Mothers need love, too.” You smile at the almost cheesy statement.

“Are you sure your father is alright with me returning?” He nods, moving his eyes from Foila’s to yours.

“I don’t care what he thinks. I cannot– I cannot stomach the idea of the two of you anywhere… without me.” He sighs softly, the breath reaching your lips.

“Legolas–”

“Do humans really believe in love at first sight?” You can’t help but giggle softly at the elf's curious words.

“Most don’t believe in it until they’ve felt it?”

“Do you feel it?” He whispers with a soft gulp, making your smile soften.

“Do you?” You tease lightly, watching the blush creep from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“I think so.” Your eyes drop to his lips, a moment of warning or time to pull back, but he doesn’t, gently meeting your lips in the middle. You hold there for a long second, feeling a tear squeeze from your eyes in relief.

You break apart at a loud shriek from Foila, looking up at the two of you with a wide grin, clapping softly. “She has a tooth!” Legolas exclaims, making you smile.

“It’s been making her awfully fussy.” Legolas frowns, kissing the baby’s forehead.

“I can only imagine.” He mutters as you gently kiss his cheeks.

“Should we start moving?” He glances at you again, giving you a soft peck.

“I think we can indulge in this for a bit longer.”

»

The trip to Mirkwood takes three days with the snow, but it feels like no time at all beside each other. Legolas carries Foila most of the day, wanting to give your back a break and seeing as it was easier for him to move through the snow. Foila was now saying “Las!” with excited squeals along with lots of “mamas.” Legolas happily indulged in all of it, having teasing conversations with the baby that made you double over with laughter.

When you reached the gate, Legolas handed Foila back to you and led you, bringing you to the king. You bowed softly, wincing as Foila blew a raspberry at the tall man. Legolas let out a soft snicker in amusement. “So the mortal survives.”

“Not without the aid of your son.”

“A trait he gained from his mother, no doubt.” You send Legolas a smile as Foila babbles. “What do you intend to do with her, Legolas?”

“Las!” Foila squeals excitedly, making Thraunduil’s eyes narrow.

“The child says your name.” He mutters to Legolas, making his son nod proudly as he watches Foila in your arms.

“She does.”

“Why?”

“She likes him.” You butt in.

“They’re staying in Mirkwood. With me. As my guests.” Legolas straightens his shoulders, making a defensive stance as Thranfuils studies him for a long moment.

“You’re lucky your mother has such a strong hold on my soul,” Thranduil mutters, making Legolas smile and nod to his father. You follow after him, into the caverns and up some stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“My quarters. I had some of the maids bring a crib whilst I was gone.” You shoot him a grateful smile. The room was much grander than yours, with a large balcony overlooking the snowy landscape. Foila squirms out of your arms and decides to crawl around and explore the space. Legolas watches as you approach the large windows.

You smile when his arms move around your middle, and his lips gently meet your cheek. “It’s beautiful.” You wistfully whisper.

“I have a much better view.” You roll your eyes at the cheesy line with a snicker.

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Kíli said it to Tauriel one time.” You nod, cupping his cheek and kissing the other with a light grin.

“It was very cheesy.”

“You love the fondue here.” You snort happily, turning to face him and pecking his lips.

“I cannot argue with you on that.” He kisses you with a gentle hum before pulling away and facing a babbling Foila. You gasp, noticing her standing on two feet, tightly gripping the sheets of the bed with a proud smile. You drop to your knees, encouraging her to move towards you, her giggles increasing as she slowly lets go of the bedding and takes small, shaky steps. She makes it to your arms, making you scoop her up with a loud exclamation of joy.

“Was that the first time she’s walked?” Legolas asks, making you nod, bouncing Foila. “She’s strong like her mother.”

“And just as wonderful as her father.” You look over your shoulder with an affectionate smile, watching your words wash over the elf.

“When you braided my hair on the fourth day of your stay, did you know what it meant?” Your brows furrow, and you shake your head.

“A courting ritual in elven culture.”

“Then I guess it worked, hm?” He laughs, pulling the two of you into a tight hug.

“I guess it did.”

[chrys-lism2]

Cuffs 𓆪 Kíli Durin

f! human! reader

ao3 link

wc: 4,700+

summary: kíli's one and only love is cursed beneath the mountain by smaug.

tags: reader is cursed to be a dragon skin changer!, fluff, angst, fluff, happy ending, bathing together, engagement, weddings, dragons, no i have not read the books and barely know the lore, leave a girl alone <3

a/n: love you all!!!!

divider cred: me!

Humans had always been off limits. Kíli had been convinced he’d end up with another royal dwarf, a marriage without love to continue the line. You were nothing more than a human girl from Laketown, an advanced weaver known for the intricate designs in your blankets. 

He’d seen you for the first time on a journey to Laketown, an expedition to let the young princes meet their trade partners. He’d stepped into the small store, looking for a blanket to hold him over for the next few nights, and found you, sitting behind the counter, working on a small baby blanket, covered in an intricate flower pattern. He was enamored.

“My prince.” You smile, standing and giving him a soft bow.

“No need for such formalities… You flatter me.” He’d smiled, red coating his cheeks.

“Can I help you find anything?”

“The warmest blanket you’ve got.” You nod, coming around the counter and walking him over to an area with various blankets.

“The ones with the fur layer will be the warmest… those are the cheapest–” You point to a few solid color blankets. He skims through them gently. 

“Which is the most expensive?” Your head tilts for a moment before gently pulling out a blanket with a beautiful design of the gate of Erebor.

“Took me thirty moons.” You smile shyly, watching as he takes it from your hands.

“This… is beautiful…” He whispers, glancing up at you, making you grin bashfully,

“Thank you…”

“I’ll take it.” Your eyes widen.

“Are you sure? It’s almost–”

“I couldn't care less about cost. I’ll give you double.”

“My prince–”

“Kíli.” You blink and nod.

“Kíli, it’s thirty–”

“Then I’ll give you ninty.” Your jaw drops, completely lost for words as he gives you a charming grin and drops a small bag of coins on the counter. “But, only if you’ll accompany me to a royal feast in three weeks.”

“What?” He steps forward, taking your hands in his, looking up at you.

“Accompany me to the royal feast.”

“Kíli– I’m just a weaver–” You sputter out.

“I don’t care– Don’t make me make it a royal order– because I will.” You let out a soft huff, contemplating for a long moment before nodding.

“If you so insist…” His grin broadens, squeezing your hands.

“I do. Do you ever decorate your clothing with your skills?” You nod. “Will you wear a dress with something you’ve designed?”

“Why? I can find a nice dress–”

“I want you to show off your skills.”

𓆰𓆪

The walk from the edge of the lake to the gate of Erebor felt like the longest journey you’d ever taken. The official invitation sat heavily in your hands, even as just a nimble piece of paper. You’d spent the three weeks intricately weaving designs into the light brown bodice of your dress, the bottom a flowy brown stain with a detailed trim at the bottom that matched the bodice. 

You stepped up to the door, finding a guard and gently offering your invitation. He grunted softly, letting you through. You staggered slowly with the large groups of dwarves wandering the mines, decorated for the feast. Various looks were tossed your way, making you shrink in on yourself and find a corner to tuck yourself in and catch your breath. “I was worried you weren’t coming.”

Your nerves dispersed immediately as you looked to your left, finding Kíli in traditional royal garments, his hair delicately braided. “I was worried you’d send the royal guard to arrest me if I didn’t.” You joke lightly, letting him hear the nervousness in your tone and offering you a sympathetic smile.

“Do not worry about the looks the dwarves give you; they’re quick to judge.” His eyes drop, tracing the details of your bodice (definitely taking the opportunity to scan the neckline that allured to the soft flesh beneath the dress) and tracing the pattern you’d created. “The dress… It’s beautiful.” He whispers, stepping forward to take a piece of the skirt within his fingers.

“I… worked really hard on it.” You admit gently, making him smile again.

“I’m even prouder to show you off now.”

You gently take his arm as he offers it, stepping back into the large corridors and desperately trying to ignore the gasps and wide eyes that face you. Kíli softly squeezes your hand, sending you a reassuring glance. “They don’t seem too fond of me.” You whisper gently.

“Well, then, thank the gods my opinion of you is the only one that matters, yes?” You smile lightly. “But, you do have to meet my uncle.”

“King Thorin.” You say gently, making him nod.

“He does not have a kind reputation.” You nod.

“Will he take kindly to a non-royal?” Kíli thinks for a long moment before gently shaking his head.

“But please believe me when I say that I’ll defend you and don’t let his words get to you, alright?”

𓆰𓆪

The dining hall was so large that you felt as if your eyes were playing tricks on you. “It’s beautiful…” You whisper, making Kíli’s shoulders set back in pride.

“Isn’t it?”

“How many of us will eat in here?” 

“You, me, Filí, and Thorin.” You stop, turning to him.

“That’s it?”

“This is the royal table, and only royals eat here. Filí, at least, is eager to meet you.” 

“This… is terrifying.” You say softly, thanking him gently as he pulls your chair out for you to sit. Kíli gently leans to kiss your temple and squeeze your hand reassuringly. 

“It’s going to be fine… please just don’t let anything get to you.” You nod slowly, preening as he kisses your forehead. The doors open, and you jolt up, facing the two dwarves and bowing politely. 

“And who might this fine lass be, brother?” Fíli grins happily, clapping a hand on Kíli’s shoulder, making the younger grin. He introduces you, and you let out a soft noise of surprise as he pulls you into a tight hug. “Kíli’s been showing off that blanket he got from you for days now.” Heat creeps across your cheeks.

“Really?” They both nod.

“It truly is a beautiful work.” Fíli compliments.

“You brought a human.” Thorin’s voice rings out, sending a cool chill down your spine.

“Indeed,” Kíli confirms, standing just in front of you. You lift your eyes to the king’s for a moment.

“Do you have any royal blood? Any standing power in your title?” You shoot a glance at Kíli, clearing your throat and shifting your weight between your feet.

“No, my lord. Just a weaver from Laketown.” His frown deepens, a soft huff leaving his nose as he moves his glance to Kíli. 

“We may sit.” He instructs, making the three of you nod and follow suit. Kíli gently holds your hand beneath the table, and Fíli gently serves the food among the three plates. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“And you’re aware Kíli is forty-three, yes?” You shake your head softly.

“But our kinds age differently.”

“Precisely the reason this relationship could never possibly–”

“Thorin.” Kíli firmly interjects, sending a glare to the older dwarf.

“At least try to get to know her first, Thorin,” Fíli says gently, taking his seat as you slowly begin to eat. “How long have you been a weaver?”

“My mother taught me when I turned ten. We’ve been weavers for many generations.”

“Did you do the designs on your dress?” The blonde dwarf asks softly, making you nod with a prideful smile. Kíli glances over it with an affectionate glance, admiring the talent your fingers held.

“The blanket Kíli got, you made it, yes?” Thorin asks, making you nod. His eyes sharpen for a moment, but he continues eating without a word.

𓆰𓆪

“Did I do well?” You ask gently, swinging your hand with Kíli as he gently leads you back through the hall of the mountain.

“Indeed.” He brings your knuckles to his lips. “Don’t take Throin’s…”

“Affections?” You mutter sarcastically, making the dwarf laugh loudly.

“Don’t take them personally.”

“Where are we going now?”

“My quarters.”

“That’s a bit forward.”

“Did you expect nothing less?” You roll your eyes with a giggle. He pushes through a large door, leading into a warmly lit room. A bed sits snug in the corner, littered with pillows and blankets (yours proudly laid on top of it all), and a bookshelf is set heavily against the opposite wall, filled with various stories and tales, clearly loved. A fireplace burns, illuminating the space, a rug set onto the top of the floor, a loved sofa facing the warmth. 

“You love the color blue.” You mutter, making him laugh.

𓆰𓆪

“Kíli!” You call out, months later, stepping into his space with a soft knock. A small box sat in the pocket of your dress, his cuddled form on the bed making you smile. His eyes flutter open when you sit beside his form, making the bed dip. “You’re here.” Your fingers drift through his hair with a light smile, a loud giggle leaving your lips as he tugs you to lie on top of him.

“I’m here.” He leans up to kiss you deeply, humming happily at your presence.

“What do I owe the pleasure?” Your breath catches gently as you sit back up, grabbing the small box from your pocket. His brow raises, watching you closely.

“I… have something for you.” He nods, taking the box gently from your hands and opening it. He freezes, seeing the small cuff. A sapphire was set firmly in the middle, both of your initials carved into the metal. You watch him for a long moment, feeling the panic rise.

“Do you understand what you’re offering?” He whispers, making you meet his eyes and slowly nod.

“I talked to Fíli about dwarven engagements.” Your words make a large grin spread across his face, closing the box and diving forward to hug you and firmly plant a kiss against your lips.

“Did he teach you how to do the specific braid?” You nod softly, pushing the shorter hairs from his eyes. “You’re perfect.” He kisses you deeper. 

He sits on the floor as you braid his hair back, taking the time to intricately separate and twist the strand into the engagement braid before tucking the cuff around the bottom of the braid. You kiss the crown of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

𓆰𓆪

“She what?” Thorin’s head shoots up at Kíli’s words as he enters the room, brows pinched in frustration. Kíli gently touches the engagement braid set just beside his ear with a light smile.

“She proposed.”

“And you said yes?” Kíli’s brows furrow, snapped from his haze.

“Of course, I said yes, what are you talking about?”

“It’s only been a few months! Not to mention she asked first!”

“Don’t be so old-fashioned, Thorin–” Fíli butts in, making Thorin raise a hand.

“She didn’t even ask for a blessing.”

“She didn’t ask you, no.” Fíli smiles, making Thorin’s eyes widen. “I gave her the blessing.”

“You don’t have the authority–”

“Why do you care so much?” Kíli blurts, making the king turn his way.

“Because it’s my bloodline and I intend to keep it clean!”

“Don’t talk about her like that!”

“Take the engagement back!” Kíli’s brows furrow in deep offense, rolling his shoulders back and standing his ground.

“No. In fact, I visited the jewelers just before coming to you to start making hers.” Throin’s nostrils flare with frustration.

“You cannot do this.”

“Then let Fíli take the throne.”

“You’d throw away your title for a woman?” Kíli nods.

𓆰𓆪

The bell above the door to your shop dinged gently, making you look up, meeting Kíli’s eyes with a bright smile. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have a gift for you!” He grins, moving forward to lean across the counter and kiss you gently. The braid in his hair was frayed but not undone, the small cuff sitting proudly.

“You do?” You ask gently, voice quiet with anticipation. He placed a box in your hands, looking up at you with a bashful grin. You glance between him and the intricately carved wood before gently opening the box, gasping at the contents.

The silver matched the cuff you’d given him, but an opal sat in the center. Designs of flowers curled around the gem, your initials hidden on the inner part. A gasp of excitement leaves your lips, through your arms around his shoulders, shrieking a soft yes! He laughs happily, pulling you in closer and kissing your temple.

𓆰𓆪

Your ideas of your wedding were swiftly interrupted by fire. Blazing hot, bright orange infront of your eyes. There was no time to find Kíli, no time to try and keep yourself alive.

You watched helplessly as Smaug destroyed your home. Fire burned around you, screams and cries of despair filling your ears. Kíli’s name was etched between your ribs, your hand shakily drifting up to the cuff in your hair before it all goes black.

𓆰𓆪

Kíli looked back at the kingdom in defeat. Smaug had taken Erebor. “Thorin! Please tell me you’ve found her!” He shouts to his uncle, making the taller dwarf shake his head with a sympathetic glance.

“No one’s seen her.” He says softly, making Kíli throw down his sword with a frustrated shout. Fíli stands beside you, Thorin, watching with dismay.

“He loved her.” He mutters gently, watching his brother begin to sob, hitting the dirt beneath his hands.

“Do you think he will heal?” Thorin asks Fíli softly.

“I don’t know.”

𓆰𓆪

The years passed slowly, and Kíli fell further into his dismay. The engagement cuff you’d given him stayed in his braids always, cleaned each night with his weapons. Fíli and Thorin helplessly watched from afar, knowing none of their words could soothe the prince. Thorin had consistently felt the punch of regret at the way he’d treated you and the engagement, but knew an apology was the last thing that could help the dwarf.

The journey back to Erebor felt like Kíli’s last hope to find you or at least some part of you. Thorin and Fíli watched from afar as he threw himself more recklessly into the battles along the way. Tauriel jumped back from the bars as he swiped at her in the elven prisons, offended that anyone would even try to take his heart again. The journey continued slowly after his injury, the poison taking the little hope he had left.

The dreams he had of you were torturous. Vast fields of flowers or the large depths of the mine with you at the center, happy. Sometimes, children ran around the two of you, or his brother and Thorin, welcoming you with open arms. The worst were the dreams of the wedding day and night that never came.

𓆰𓆪

What he didn’t know was that you were among the gold of Erebor, cursed by Smaug himself. A skinchanger now, a blue-scaled dragon trapped among the vast piles of treasure. The warmth it provided was different from what Kíli had ever felt, and no amount of treasure could make you forget your bethrothed. His claws had found you, huddled in a blanket, taken for nothing but the mere fun of the dragon’s evil.

You’d often watch the way your claws would drift through the piles of treasure, but one was never lost. The small hair cuff was always in your space, the only piece of treasure you’d ever breathe fire for. Smaug never questioned it, and the conversations you two shared were long. You never revealed your lost love, and he’d never cared to ask about the small cuff with an opal laid in the center.

𓆰𓆪

Waking up from the dreams of you after the poison had been cleared from his veins was almost his undoing; the journey to the mountain was worse. Stepping back into his home, he faced the memories of you as he walked through the hallways and admired them.

He took a moment to sneak back into his old quarters, and the blanket he’d bought still sat among the pillows. He’d grabbed it softly, bringing it to his nose and letting out a gentle sob of despair at your smell. His eyes drift to the clothes both of you had left behind, the empty fireplace mocking him.

𓆰𓆪

His smell was the first thing you noticed, sharp and as clean as you had remembered it. Hiding beneath the gold as Smaug left the mountain and headed for Laketown, creeping towards the dwarves. Your head lifted at the whispers of the great dragon being dead, made you crawl from your haven, the cuff wrapped around one of your shaper canines, held with the same amount of care Kíli would hold you with. You gracefully flew up, watching the way their weapons trained on your form, scanning them for Kíli’s eyes. “Put your weapons down!” He yells, rushing to the ledge they were on. You fly closer, finding a place to perch and leaning your snout close to him. You gently drop the small engagement cuff at his feet, making him gasp.

“Kíli, what is going on?” Thorin calls out. Your eyes meet Kíli’s, and he lets out a soft sob.

“It’s her!” He sobs out, making the others' brows furrow, and the other dwarves glance at each other.

“What are you talking about? She’s dead!” Fíli calls out, making you snarl, the word punching Kíli uncomfortably in the gut. 

“Look at her eyes!” He cries, smile etched with loving relief. Your eyes widen, pupils dilating at his realization. “She has the engagement cuff!” 

“Kíli! That is a dragon! How do we know she’s not like Smaug!” You snarl again, making Kíli wipe a tear with a wide smile. 

“Go on without me! I’ll figure this out!” The dwarves look to Thorin, who rubs his eyes with a sigh and slowly nods.

“We cannot leave you with a monster!”

“She’s not a monster! Please just trust me! Just go!” A few grumbles are released from the company, but Thorin waves them on, leaving the two of you behind.

You move to lie on the platform Kíli stood on, head against the cool stone beneath your chin. “You’re a dragon.” He says softly, reaching out to touch your snout and feel the scales. You left out a loud breath through your nose, large eyes filling with tears at the touch. “You’re alive…” He whispers.

You let out a soft noise, making him smile. You watch as he takes his braid down, sitting to the side of your snout and holding out the cuff you’d given him. He laughs at the happy spark of flames that leaves your throat. “Can you turn back?” You glance at him, tousling your wings softly, your tail swaying. “Do you know how?” He smiles weakly as you shake your large head. “We’ll find a way… I promise you that.” You press the side of your snout against his side. He kisses the scales, making you let out a purr-like noise. “I’ll have Fíli braid both cuffs into my hair until we get you back, ok?” He whispers, making you nuzzle further against him.

You press as close as you can to his side, letting out the equivalent of a purr. His sobs echo through the space, and he traces the scales on your face. You let out a soft noise, an offer of something Kíli couldn’t understand. “What is it?” You stretch your wings softly, trying to communicate. “Hey– I trust you.” He watches your eyes perk up as you stand, gently wrapping your talons around him. He lets out a shout of surprise followed by a laugh as you set him down among the piles of gold, curling up with him, settled in the middle of your warmth. “Are you asking… for dragon cuddles?” You let out another happy nose, curling further around him. “Who am I to deny you?” He whispers tearfully. He grabs the two cuffs, holding them tightly in his palm.

He gently sits among the gold, your large form curled around him as he gently traces the scales that line the ridge of your wing. Commotion swirls somewhere above them, but he pays no mind, his tears growing heavier. “Am I still dreaming?” He whispers.

𓆰𓆪

“Kíli!” Filí’s voice rings out beside him, making his eyes snap open.

“What– what?” 

“Thorin’s about to start a war.”

“What?”

“Thorin’s gone mad with dragon sickness… Thranduil and Bard are outside the gate–” Kíli stands, searching for his sword and looking over your form as you continue to sleep. “She’ll come back to you,” Fíli whispers gently. “We’ve found her, and now it’s just a matter of helping her get back. But we cannot help her if Thorin gets us all killed.”

𓆰𓆪

When you eventually wake, the war outside echoes through the vast corridors. You scramble for a moment, panic flaring through you as you notice that Kíli is gone from your hold. The engagement cuffs glitter, and you glance at them before flying up and out of the mountain. You scan and scan, finding Ravenhill, seeing the three goats rushing towards the top. You quickly fly over, perching on a large walk and looking around you. Thorin, Filí, and Kíli meet you there, watching closely. 

You spot the orcs first, letting out a loud snarl of warning and flying up to breathe fire at the growing threat. The three dwarves take shelter behind you, watching in awe and readying themselves for the battle that was sure to ensue. As the first wave breaks past your fire, you do what you can, catching eyes on the hobbit that had joined the battle.

You fly down again, grabbing orcs with your talons and throwing them into the other brutes, trying desperately to slow the wave down. Kíli lets out a shout of distress, and you turn, diving to grab the orc off of him, tossing it off the cliff. You land in the snow, protectively placing yourself in front of him and continuing to fight off the orcs.

𓆰𓆪

As the battle settles around you, orc corpses are riddled around you, the snow stained with their blood. Fíli had found protection, climbing on your back, Kíli moving to join him, shooting down the orcs. Bilbo had managed to save Thorin, sitting beside the king’s tired body, wounded from battle. You watch slowly as Kíli and Fíli rush to his side, victorious. 

Your scaled body sways as you try to stand, a pained whimper leaving your limbs, smoke from your flaring nostrils, before collapsing in the snow. Kíli watches in fascinated horror as your wings begin to twitch and your body contorts, pained sounds slipping between your teeth. The snow swells around your form before settling, a body lying in the center. His body freezes, his feet moving before his mind could register, his sword dropping with a clatter against the ice. You blink slowly, blinded by the sunlight behind the clouds as you look up before Kíli’s face moves to block the sun. “Kíli?” You whisper, making his eyes fill with tears.

“Hi, my love…” He chokes out, cupping your cheeks.

“I’m not a dragon.” You sniffle, making him nod.

“You’re alive… and here… and alive.” The words are repeated in a way that makes it sound like he was convincing himself. Your hand drifts up to the braid in his hair, done swiftly by Fíli before leaving the safety of the mines, both cuffs nestled behind his ear.

“We get to have a wedding…” You smile wistfully, his hand clasping yours as he plants a kiss against your wrist.

“We get to have a wedding.” He repeats, making your tears start to fall as he leans down to meet your lips.

𓆰𓆪

You sat behind Kíli, the water warm, sitting just beneath your breasts. Your fingers massaged his scalp with the shampoo, the dirt and grime slowly leaving his body. A soft sigh left his lips, the noise shaky as he lifted a hand to wipe his tears. “You haven’t stopped crying,” You whisper.

“How can I? I thought you were… dead. For years… It’s the greatest relief I’ve ever felt.” You kiss his shoulder before rinsing his hair. 

“I knew you survived… You wouldn’t leave me like that.” He squeezes your calf beneath the water, making you giggle in surprise, massaging the conditioner into his hair. “We get to do engagement braids again.”

“And I finally get to do a wedding braid.” He looks over his bare shoulder, kissing you softly. “I practiced like mad. Fíli was about ready to rip his hair out.” You giggle again, making him smile. “Do I get to wash your hair now?” You nod, and the two of you slowly shift positions so you can lie against his chest. He slowly washes your hair, savoring the moment he was so convinced was lost forever.

“Thorin has no excuse but to like me now.” Kíli lets out a loud laugh.

“It would be pretty mean to hate someone we were convinced was dead for so long.”

“I have not waited this long and as a dragon to not get my wedding day and my wedding night.”

“You are going to get the most luxurious wedding night anyone’s ever seen. There’s a lot of… pent-up love to show.” You snicker, letting him rinse your hair. 

“I don’t ever want to leave your arms.” You whisper.

“I don’t think I have it in me to ever let you go.” He hums against your temple. 

𓆰𓆪

The fire was warm against your skin as Kíli pulled your nightgown down just enough to kiss along your shoulder and nip gently at your neck. You let your head roll back with a soft breath, humming contentedly at the feeling. “You’re supposed to be braiding…”

“Let me savour you…” He hums against your skin, squeezing your sides.

“We’re not married yet…” 

“Must I wait?”

“I want my braid.” You whine gently, making him pull back with a laugh.

“Alright, alright…” He sections off a small strand of hair just behind your ear, feeling his eyes swell with emotion. Your hand reaches out to gently rest on his knee.

“You’re crying again.”

“I cannot help it.” He smiled through the tears, making you give him a loving glance. He gently places the cuff around the end of your braid, marveling at the sight. “You’re going to be my wife.” You grin, surging forward to kiss him happily.

“My turn?” You ask as you pull away, making him smile again. You shift your position to gather the hair beneath his left ear, weaving it together gently and placing the sapphire-encrusted cuff around the bottom. “You’re going to be my husband.”

“Gladly.” He smiles, pressing you down against the rug and moving over top of you to kiss you deeply. You make a soft sound against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “I love you… I love… I love you.” He whispers with a bright grin, making you throw your head back in happy laughter.

“I love you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

𓆰𓆪

The wedding came swiftly, Thorin enthusiastically approving the plans and making arrangements for the kingdom. You’d worked tirelessly on your dress, and Kíli had asked you to do the trim of his royal garments. You sit against his chest, snuggled in bed, sewing the fabrics with great, delicate care. He would watch, absolutely enamored with your craft, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

Fíli helped do your hair the morning of, leaving a strand separated for the marriage braid. Thorin helped Kíli get ready on the other side of the castle, the halls flooded with your people and the dwarves. Gandalf had offered to officiate with Thorin by his side, the ceremony moving smoothly.

Everyone watched in awe as you braided the marriage bands into each other’s hair, shouts of excitement erupting through the palace halls as Kíli pulled you in for a fierce kiss, making you laugh. The celebrations ensued throughout the day, feasts and parties surrounding the two of you, but as the sun began to set, he grabbed your hands, pulling you through the corridors and into his quarters with a grin. “I have been waiting years for you.” He whispers, pulling into a deep kiss.

“You have to untie my dress. I’ll kill you if you rip this and ruin my work.” He groans dramatically, making you giggle, and gently unties his dressings.

“You’re lucky I love you.” He mumbles.

“That I am.” You hum, kissing him again.

[chrys-lism2]

Scales 𓆞 Will Turner

f! mermaid! reader

ao3 link

wc: 3,300+

summary: will finds a mermaid in port royal.

tags: fluff, background sparrabeth, first kiss, oblivious reader, ignores geography?, follows canon a little? pirate! will

a/n: love you all!!!

divider cred: me!

The river had always been your home. The murky waters greeted you kindly, and you’d never met another of your kind. You strayed from the banks, afraid of those who had tried to catch you when you were a toungling, muttering things about your tail. You aided boats through the channel, helping the vessels avoid debris, moving the animals out of the way, and keeping them from harm.

The blacksmith’s shop faced the water, and you’d watched a young man grow through the years, and watched him practice his sword work at night after long days working. Your head peeked just above the water, moonlight echoing off the surface.

One particular night, after you’d heard of rumours of a pirate in Port Royal, the man was out practising again, clearly more angry than usual, louder grunts of frustration slipping between his lips. You watch in horror as his foot catches on his other, tumbling backwards into your water with a yelp. You linger for a long moment, frozen with shock, before quickly swimming over and gently lifting him from the water and aiding him to the shoreline. As he gasps for breath, he looks over at you, eyes widening at the sigh of your tail. The word mermaid leaves his lips, making your head tilt.

“Mermaid?” You echo gently.

“You speak…” He whispers, reaching out to you, making you flinch backwards. “I won’t hurt you… You saved me.” You watch him for a long moment before turning and diving back into the depths of the water, leaving the man with a distant glimmer of your tail under the surface.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“I’m telling you! There was a mermaid!” Elizabeth gives Will an odd look.

“So you’ve seen pirates and a mermaid this week… are you sure you haven’t gone mad?” The woman asks, making Will’s gaze across the river narrow.

“She helped me out of the water! But she was clearly scared.”

“Even if there was a mermaid… why is she in a river?” Will’s mouth opens before he pauses, considering the thought.

“I… don’t know.”

“I think you’ve gone mad. Too much rum last night?” She elbows his side, making him roll his eyes. 

“She was there… I know she was…”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The weeks and months pass slowly as you continue to watch Will train each night, making sure he doesn’t see you as he scans the surface for a glance at your tail. The time slows when Will disappears for a few weeks, and you overhear talks of a curse facing his return.

The training slows, only a few choice nights of watching him, now often joined by a young woman in fancy dresses. A large ship pulls into the bay, and another man joins him with a red bandana.

“You sound mad, mate.” Jack snorts, tying a rope on the ship.

“She can probably help us through the channel!”

“This is probably one of the few times I’ll agree with Jack,” Elizabeth mutters, making Jack snort.

“I think we should at least try!”

“If you’re fibbing and get stuck in that channel, we’re utterly screwed, William.”

“I promise she’s there.” Jack rubs his eyes with a long sigh as Elizabeth shakes he head and crosses her arms over her chest.

“If you’re wrong, you're paying for my ship,” Jack grunts, making Will smile triumphantly. 

“Gibbs! Man, the wheel and take us through the channel!” Will calls out, making the older man raise a brow and glance at Jack, who reluctantly nods. Will move the edge of the deck as the ship follows the wave and the canal stretches out in front of him. He watches the water carefully, desperately to catch a glimpse of your tail again.

“That mermaid of yours needs to get here now!” Jack yells.

“Please, please, please–” He whispered, scanning the water.

“What’s that?” Elizabeth shouts, making Will’s eyes shoot to where she’s pointing, a glimmer in the surface against the side of the ship. He smiles, feeling a jolt as you help move the ship through the channel.

“I told you!” He calls out to Jack happily, with a grin over his shoulder. The man moves to stand beside him, watching you with interest.

“So they do exist.” He hums. “Marty! Grab a net!” 

“Jack no–!” The captain turns to Marty.

“The second we’re through that channel, get her up here.” Jack’s shoulder is yanked back by Will’s firm hand and a pistol barrel to his throat. 

“Don’t hurt her.”

“We never said anything about leaving her there.” Jack grins, making Will load the pistol, expression tightening. “You need to get better at making deals with pirates, mate.” A horrible screech fills the air as the net is thrown, the channel giving way to the ocean on the other side of the island, and Will watches helplessly as your body is thrown on deck.

“Let me at least be the one to talk to her… please.” He pleased, tucking his pistol back against his hip. Jack glances at the man for a long moment before nodding.

“Bring her down to the private quarters and leave her with Will.” The crew groans, obviously wanting to ogle your foreign form. Will nods, following the crew down and shutting the door behind himself. You hiss as he comes closer, teeth barred, his hands raised in surrender.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I asked them not to–” He gently and slowly cuts away the net, starting at your tail. Your hissing quiets as he peels the twined ropes from your form.

“I was helping your ship.” You whisper, making him nod sympathetically, reaching out to touch the rope burns that littered your arms. 

“Can I help you with these?” You glance at your skin, letting out a soft hiss of pain and gently nodding. He gives you a light smile, standing to find a salve and sitting back beside you on the bed.

“Why am I on a ship?”

“You weren’t supposed to be.”

“Are you going to kill me?” The softness in your tone makes his heart drop, a soft sigh leaving his nose as he massages the salve into your delicate skin, avoiding the small patches of scales.

“No. And I will make sure no one does.” You nod slowly, wincing at the treatment. He mutters another soft apology. “Why were you in the river?”

“River?”

“I would think mermaids live in the ocean.”

“Ocean?” Your brows furrow, watching his expression closely.

“Have you ever left the– your home?” You shake your head, finally looking around the space and observing the space around you.

“No. I like my friends there. There’s a family of ducks. And a very big school of fish that passes by quite often.”

“And you help the ships through, yes?” You nod, tracing a small patch of scales on your stomach. He watches you carefully, heart flooded with gentle affection.

“It’s a difficult channel to navigate.”

“That’s why I had the captain bring us through… I knew you’d help. I didn’t… mean for any of this.” He motions to the discarded net.

“I don’t know your name. I’ve seen you practicing with the swords… every night.”

“It’s Will. Three hours a day.” He smiles with a nod. “You were watching?”

“Besides the creatures and some boats… not much comes through my home. You’re fun to watch. Good with swords… Will.” He smiles at his name on your lips.

“I’ll take the compliment…” He watches you for a long moment as you continue to trace the patch of scales. “Can I touch it?”

“What?”

“Your tail.” Your head tilts with a questioning glance.

“Why?”

“You’re the first mermaid I’ve seen.”

“Is there more of my kind?” 

“You’ve truly never left the river, hm?” You shake your head. You sit up, head tilted as Will watches you intently. 

“There’s a whale! It’s hurt!” You cry out, gripping the sleeve of his blouse.

“What?”

“It’s calling out for help! I need to help it!” You wriggle, struggling to get up from the bed. Will grab your arm, fingers digging into tender flesh and making you hiss. “It needs help!”

“I cannot let you go!”

“I’ll come back! I do not– this water is unfamiliar, but I must help the creature!” You watch Will debate his options before rubbing his face and letting out a sigh.

“Jack is going to kill me.” You shriek softly as you are lifted into Will’s arms and shuffled through the ship. One of his hands gently guards your head as he steps onto the deck, the crew turning their eyes.

“Can I drop you from this high?”

“Will I land in water?”

“Yes.”

“Please.” He nods, rushing to the edge and gently dropping you off the side. Your tail sparkles in the morning sunlight before you plunge into the water.

“What the hell was that for?” Elizabeth snarls, pulling from Jack’s gentle hold on her waist.

“Did you just set my mermaid free?” Jack asks, moving into Will’s space and watching the water.

“She heard a whale.” Both Elizabeth and Jack send him unamused glances.

“What does that even mean?” The woman asks.

“A whale was hurt and calling out for help. She said she’d swim back. She doesn’t know the sea.”

“She’s a mermaid.”

“She’s never left the river.”

“Will!” You call out, making all three heads turn your way. “I need a knife! It’s caught in a net!” He nods, grabbing the knife from his belt.” You nod, motioning for him to drop it. You avoid it, grabbing it as it slips beneath the water. You return to the large animal, beginning to cut the nets away from its skin. The animal lets out soft, appreciative noises only you can. You pull the net away, and the whale swims forward, squealing softly. You blow the animal a kiss before clutching the knife close and swimming back to the surface. “All done!” You smile proudly, Will matching your expression.

“How do you propose we get her back up?”

“Lower a long boat.”

“We can just use another net–” Elizabeth suggests, making Will cut her off.

“She’s hurt from the last one. Lower a long boat.” Jack rolls his eyes but motions for the crew to follow the order, pulling Elizabeth back into his side. You watch from the surface, face puzzled as the boat hits the water.

“What do I do with this?” You yell to Will, making an affectionate smile break across his face. He throws a leg over the railing, using the ropes to get down into the boat. 

“It’s like the ship but smaller.” He offers a kind smile and a hand, lifting you into the boat, being mindful of your tail. You hold his knife out to him as the crew lifts you back on board. 

“It was stuck in a net!” Will nods, helping you from the long boat, holding you gently in his arms as he steps back on deck.

“I’m taking her back down to the chambers–”

“Why can’t I stay here?” Will looks from you to Jack and Elizabeth, raising a brow.

“You have to find a place for her to sit, and if we get attacked, she’s saving herself.” Jack dismisses, bringing Elizabeth’s hand to his mouth and moving back up to the wheel. Will shoots you a weak smile, clutching you closer. He gently asks Cotton to push a few barrels together, the man nodding and doing the favor. Will gently set you down on the barrels so you can look over the edge.

“I liked it out there… I didn’t realize there was… so much.”

“So much what?” Will asks softly, reaching out to touch your tail but stopping his hand. 

“Water… so many new creatures were speaking! That whale had a daughter whom she loves very much. Do you still want to touch it?” You tilt your head watching the movement of his hand.

“If you do not mind.” You shake your head, watching his tan finger gently trace the pattern of your scales. “It’s softer than I’d imagine.” You stifle a giggle at the ticklish feeling, making Will’s smile widen.

“I’ve never had someone touch it.” You grin.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Captain Jack? May I go in the water?” You ask gently, watching the crew head into Tortuga. It’d been a few weeks since you’d been brought aboard, attached to Will’s side and helping in the small ways you could. You navigated the crew through reefs and rocks from below the surface, helped various animals along the way (to Jack and Elizabeth’s dismay), and even caught fish when the crew was lacking in meals.

Jack had grown fond of you (even though he’d never admit it, and Elizabeth would probably skin him alive if she knew) and glanced at you as your question rang out. “Not here. This is the least safe place for a creature such as yourself. We need to get you down to the private quarters.” He sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Why?” You pinch a frown.

“They’ll hunt you here. Cut off your tail and count your scales.” Your expression drops in fear, looking back over.

“How long till you come back?”

“Three days, probably.”

“All alone?”

“Will will probably come back for you.” Jack moves to gently lift you, moving you below deck. You watch him leave with a frown, the door locking behind you. A huff leaves your mouth as you glance around the room, grabbing the blankets and pulling them around you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

When Will returns that night, he gently unlocks the door and steps into what was slowly morphing into your space. He smiles, seeing your tail fins peeking out of the blankets, which are clutched close to your face. He reaches out gently to touch your tail, making your eyes snap open. “Will! Has it been three days already?” He shakes his head, helping you sit up before sitting close beside you, hand drifting to caress your scales.

“Jack said you’d be gone three days!”

“You fell asleep, and I care enough to come back to check on you.”

“He said I couldn’t go out for a swim.”

“Believe me… Tortuga is not the place you want to go for a swim. It’s a haven for the pirates… and pirates love mermaids.”

“Jack said they’d hunt me and take my scales.” Will solemnly nods. “I haven’t swam in days… My tail… hurts.” Will shoots you a sympathetic glance, intertwining his hand with yours. Your chin moves to rest on his shoulder, blinking up at him as he watches you.

“They’ll hunt you. Most pirates are not kind.”

“You are.” He nods, cupping your jaw and kissing your cheek. “You’re very kind to me.”

“Cannot imagine hurting such a beautiful creature.”

“I am beautiful?” He nods gently, kissing your temple again. 

“Pirates long for you because of your beauty.”

“Will?”

“Hm?”

“That thing that Elizabeth and Jack do when they’re… happy? With each other.”

“What thing?”

“They press their faces together! Like you just did here?” You point gently to your temple.

“A kiss?” 

“Is that what it’s called?” He smiles and nods.

“And people do it because they’re happy?”

“It’s a show… of love.” You reach up to trace the blush that crosses his cheeks.

“Love?” Will nods, smiling again and making you giggle.

“So you love me?” His brows furrowed, and his blush deepened beneath his tanned skin.

“Maybe I do.” He hums, pulling you closer.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Jack. We need to set sail.”

“We’ve still got another two nights!” The man says happily, blood clearly running with run as Elizabeth hangs off his side, somehow more drunk than the captain. 

“She’s getting sick.” The man’s brows furrow.

“Who?”

“Our mermaid! She hasn’t swum in almost a week, and she’s getting sick without the sea.” Will exclaims.

“Take her for a swim!” Elizabeth jutts in.

“It’s not safe here!”

“Wrap her in a blanket and take a long boat.” Will stops, considering the idea.

“Fine.” He huffs, moving to make his way back to the boat.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“I get to go swim?” You ask softly, body weak in the warmth of the blankets.

“We’re going to take a long boat and move from shore, somewhere safer, so you can get in the water.” You reach up for him, making him grin. He takes you eagerly in his arms, wrapping the blanket protectively around your tail and moving to the deck and setting you into the boat.

You drift in and out of sleep as Will rows out, the sensation of the sea soothing your mind. “Almost there.” He says gently, making your eyes flutter open with a smile.

“Can I get out?” He nods, peeling the fabric from your scales and helping you into the water. The comfort is instant, the tenseness in your form easing as you eagerly swim laps around his boat before surfacing with a wide grin. Will leans over the side of the boat to meet your gaze. “This is much better.”

“How are the creatures?” He asks softly, making your smile widen.

“They are happy.” Will cups your cheek, thumb tracing the soft skin.

“You are happy.”

“Will?”

“Yes?” His head tilts as he watches you.”

“You have kissed me.” He hums.

“But never on the lips.”

“That’s saved for very special people.”

“Those you love the most?” Your head tilts as he nods. “Then may I kiss you?” Will’s jaw goes agape for a moment as he looks down at your form, resting delicately in the water, droplets of water falling across your skin.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I think I love you.” You whisper. “I’ve described us to the creatures, and they say I love you.” He leans down to meet you halfway, his lips delicately pressing to yours. A soft noise of excitement leaves your lips, making him pull away at the unfamiliar noise.

“Are you alright?” You nod, leaning up to chase his lips, making him chuckle.

“You’re eager.”

“Swim with me.”

“The boat–”

“I will bring us back.” You assure softly, tracing his knuckles that clutch the edge of the boat. “Please?” He sighs but nods, taking off his sword and setting it in the bottom of the boat. You watch him dive into the water beside you, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much. Less sore… happy.” You whisper, kissing him again. His hands find your waist beneath the water, rubbing it softly and admiring the feeling of your skin transitioning to scales.

“I don’t like Tortuga.”

“I can imagine.”

“I hate having to stay on the boat.”

“I know, my love. Sometimes I wish I’d never taken us through that channel.” Your tail gently brushes his legs.

“Why?”

“Because then you’d still be free.”

“Am I not free?” 

“Do you feel free?”

“When we’re not in Tortuga.” Will snorts, making you giggle happily.

“But you’re… ok with all this?” You nod.

“And I’ve learned what it means to love someone.” He hums, and you watch him blush again.

“You ready to head back to the ship?” You nod, hugging him close and kissing him again.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

If Jack and Elizabeth thought you were attached to Will’s hip before, they were surely mistaken. You clearly weren’t fully accustomed to human cues, constantly kissing Will. It wasn’t like Will minded, completely infatuated with you. He protected you through each battle, making sure no harm came to you.

“Will!” The man turns to Jack. “We need her in the water!”

“Why are you telling me?” Jack gives him a weird look. “Tell her yourself! She’s right there.” Jack huffs softly.

“He is right,” Elizabeth mutters behind him, making his shoulders sag in defeat.

“We need you in the water.” He calls out, watching as you eagerly grin

“Happy to help!” Jack nods, watching Will lift you before letting you descend over the edge.

“I thought mermaids were only good for the fountain of youth,” Elizabeth mutters, resting her head on Jack’s shoulder.

“Turner’s heart is right sometimes.” He admits gently, making Elizabeth nod.

[chrys-lism2]

Kittens ➵ Legolas Greenleaf

f! human! reader

ao3 link

wc: 3,200+

summary: legolas finds you injured after battle.

tags: human/elf, angst/fluff/happy ending, background aragorn/arwen, legolas/gimli friendship (and drinking games), drunken confessions, first kiss, injury, tending to said injury, post battle of the black gate, legolas gets drunk

a/n: love you all!!!

divider cred: me!

The light that filtered through the clouds made you wince, your adrenaline giving way to the dull ache from your side. A weak whimper left your lips, unable to lift your head from the grass. The shouts of soldiers echoed around you, making your head throb.

➵

“Have you seen our ace?” Legolas asks, rushing to find Aragorn as he looks over the battlefield.

“Last time I saw her, she was killing orcs one by one. Never seen her like that.” Aragorn smiles proudly.

“But have you seen her since?” The panic in Legolas’s voice makes Aragorn’s brows furrow.

“I don’t think I have.”

“Last time I saw the lass, she was fighting orcs to the west! She’s like a blur of blades, that girl.” Gimili snots, making Legolas’s gaze shoot up, scanning the bodies of orcs and their shoulders. He rushes down the stone stairs, stepping over the bodies and filtering through the faces he passes.

Your blood is the first thing he notices about your limp form on the ground. Your eyelids dropped with pain, teeth clenched in discomfort. He drops to his knees, face covering the sun as you blink up at his form. “Legolas?” 

“I’m here, I’m here… you stupid human…” He mutters, grabbing a knife to cut through your pants and find the gash on your leg.

“I think I’m bleeding…” You hum softly, making him scoff and cup your cheek.

“You need to stay awake, alright?”

“You called me stupid…” You murmur with a smile as he rips a piece of fabric and ties it around your wound. Apologies leave his lips as you let out a soft whimper of pain, Aragorn and Gimili’s steps moving closer to the two of you.

“We need to get her to the medics!” Legolas cries out, the tears in the elf’s eyes making Aragorn’s eyes widen. He’d never seen the elf so distraught.

“Can you carry her?” Legolas nods, lifting your form into his arms and softly kissing your forehead with apologies at the cry of pain that leaves your lips.

“Legolas?”

“Yes?” He asks softly, clutching you closer as you move towards Gondor.

“I’m tired…”

“I know, my love… but I need you to stay awake for a little longer, ok?” You groan, making Legolas’s tears fall harder.

“Your love?” You murmur slowly.

“Stay awake… please stay awake.”

“I’m getting blood all over you.”

“I don’t mind at all…”

➵

The first noise that leaves your lips is a soft whimper of pain, making Legolas’s head shoot up and grab your hand softly. “Hey, hey, hey…” He whispers, grabbing a wet rag and pressing it to your brow.

“Legolas?” You whimper, shifting in discomfort. “What happened?”

“You took a sword to a leg… you’ve been sleeping for almost three days.”

“It hurts…” You whimper helplessly, making Legolas’s brows pinch in discomfort.

“I’m sorry, my love… I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” You squeeze his hand as another wave of pain crashes through your body.

“I want to keep– sleeping–” You grunt, making Legolas nod, thumb running across the soft skin of your cheek.

“Keep sleeping… it’s alright…” You nod weakly.

➵

“You haven’t left her bedside.” Aragorn’s voice rings out softly, Legolas’s head resting on your stomach, watching your face as you sleep.

“I left her on the battlefield, and look what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Legolas.”

“I could’ve been there for her!” Legolas sits up, his hand in yours, as Aragorn sets a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“She’s going to be ok.”

“She shouldn’t have been hurt in the first place.”

“This anger isn’t like you.”

“She’s hurt! You, stupid humans, don’t understand your mortality! She almost died! I almost– I almost lost her!” He shouts, tears filling his eyes as Aragorn watches sympathetically.

“You love her, my friend.”

“What?”

“You love her. The thought of her… the thought of losing her is your worst nightmare, yes?” Legolas turns back to your body, shoulders heaving with breath.

“I cannot lose her.” Legolas’s voice breaks, the emotion echoing through the space.

“Why?” Legolas’s silence makes Aragorn nod softly. “Do you need food?” Legolas shakes his head.

“I need her awake.”

➵

Legolas’s form was warm against your back, a large hand cradling your skull, the other arm around your middle. Your head was tucked against his chest as you writhed in pain as your bandage was changed. “You’re alright…” Legolas soothes, heart, tearing at the sound of your suffering. “Almost done.”

The wrinkles you’d eventually leave in his blouse from your grip couldn’t bother him as he helped you tighten. Aragorn apologises softly as he cleans the wound, weak sobs leaving your lips, the breath hitting Legolas’s neck.

As Aragorn finally finishes wrapping your wound, the tightness in your body eases, and your muscles limp against Legolas. “It’s healing well,” Aragorn mutters softly.

“This is the worst pain I’ve ever felt.” You sniffle softly, curling closer to Legolas. His hold tightened, swaying softly.

“I’ll leave you two. Make sure you rest.” You nod against Legolas’s chest, watching the other man leave the room.

“Not much of an ace now, hm?” You mutter softly, making Legolas let out a soft snort.

“We won the battle.”

“But here I am… a mere human… hurt… weak.”

“You are not weak.” His lips press to the crown of your head. “You’re a warrior. A beautiful one at that.”

“You flatter me.” He smiles softly. You shift uncomfortably in his arms with a weak breath.

“Does it hurt?”

“Horribly.” He hums, kissing the crown of your head again, letting it linger, ignoring the feeling stirring in his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You whisper, lifting your head to look at him. A weak smile crosses his face as he gently cups your jaw. “Why haven’t you gone home?”

“I want to stay till you’re better. And Aragorn refuses to have his coronation until you're able to stand beside him.”

“Well, that’s stupid of him.” You mutter, making the elf snort out a laugh. “I cannot imagine I smell nice.”

“I’ll forgive it, considering your condition.”

“You cannot talk, elf.” You tease, gently hitting his chest. “You smell like fresh pine and river.”

“Fresh river?”

“Forgive me!” You giggle happily, making a smile grace his face.

“I will. Always.”

➵

“Legolas!” You call out, the elf quickly making his way into your room.

“Are you alright?” 

“I’ve been cleared to bathe!” You grin, making his brows pinch in confusion for a moment. “Would– if it’s not too much to ask– can you help me bathe? Please?” Legolas’s heart stutters, frozen for a long moment as he looks at you.

“Are you sure?” You nod gently.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” He shakes his head, moving to take his boots off and set his things down. He helps you stand and moves you into the bathroom. “Aragorn already filled the tub.”

“You didn’t want him to help?” You shake your head lightly, and Legolas ignores the way the revelations make his shoulders stiffen in pride. He helps you undress, being conscious of making you feel safe and avoiding irritating the wound. He slowly helps you into the water, moving to sit by the edge of the tub. Your chest was hidden beneath a layer of bubbles, and the air smelled of elven remedies. 

“Arwen must’ve brought some things.” He hums softly in agreement, watching you. Your eyes meet his as you give him a light smile. “Are you alright?”

“‘M glad you’re alive.” He whispers, making your expression soften. “You humans play too often with your mortality.”

“I didn’t want to get stabbed.” He snorts. “Will you wash my hair?” He nods, sitting up as you move to have your back face him. You hum happily as he begins to wash your hair, massaging the exhaustion and rest from your scalp. He takes his time, making sure to comb through the delicate strands.

“Better?” He asks gently, making your eyes flutter open with a nod.

“Much… thank you.” He nods, leaning forward to kiss your temple. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, humming softly. 

➵

“You sure you’re up for this?” Aragorn asks softly, making you smile.

“I can stand for your coronation, sit for the party. Legolas will watch me like a hawk.” You snort, making Aragorn grin.

“He sure does love taking care of you.”

“I’m amazed he hasn’t gone home since the battle.” Aragorn gently ties your dress.

“He refuses to leave your side. I’ve known him a long time, but I’ve never seen him as worried as when he couldn’t find you after the battle. Carried you all the way to your room.”

“Did he really?” He nods, and you gently slip your earrings in and watch the other man’s expression through the mirror.

“Got blood all over his tunic, and he didn’t say a word. Wouldn’t even leave your bedside till you woke up.”

“Are you being serious?” You ask softly, turning to face the man. Aragorn nods with a knowing smile. A knock snaps the two of you out of your conversation, the familiar head of blonde hair making you grin.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Aragorn smiles, pulling you into a light hug. “Don’t be late!” He teases, making you laugh as Legolas steps into the room.

“You look… beautiful.” He breathes out, making your expression soften.

“It’s just a dress.”

“A green dress.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You look best in my favourite color.” You roll your eyes with a grin. “I mean it!”

“You look nice all… dressed up.” He looks down over his white attire with a bashful smile.

“I hate all of this formality.” You step forward to straighten the crown on his head gently. The red spreads across his ears, making you giggle. “Is your leg feeling alright?”

“I may need to lean on you during the ceremony.”

“You know I do not mind that.”

“And I’ll sit through most of the afterparty.”

“I’ll sit with you.”

“Oh, please, you don’t need to. I know Gimili wants a rematch on that drinking game.” Legolas snorts.

“I won’t leave you if you don’t want me to.”

“I want you to win the drinking game again and then sit with me, deal?” He nods, cupping your cheeks and kissing your forehead.

“Did Aragorn want you wearing a headpiece?” You nod, turning to the vanity and grabbing the headpiece. “May I?” You tilt your head softly but nod, handing it to him. He steps forward, setting the jewelry on your head with a proud grin. “Ready to go?” You nod, taking his arm.

➵

The ceremony drags, the customs are boring you, and your face is pinched in discomfort. Legolas offers his arm, and you send him a thankful glance, leaning your weight against him. You catch a fleeting glance from Aragorn, sending him a gentle glance to which he nods, glancing back to Gandalf.

Legolas’s arm drifts around your middle, supporting you softly and pulling you closer. The ceremony slowly comes to a close, and you smile as Aragorn sees Arwen for the first time, kissing her softly. “I’ve always admired their love.” You whisper to Legolas.

“It does amaze me.” He whispers back. “Giving up your immortality is probably the greatest… effort of love I’ve seen.” You nod softly.

“Someday, hm?” You mutter softly, leaning your head on the elf’s shoulder.

“Someday.”

➵

You watch with an enamoured smile as Legolas guzzles down pints of beer, Gimli at his side, muttering about his mock distaste for the elf beside him. You happily cheer Legolas on, making him shoot you a grin. “Feel it yet?”

“Barely!”

“Don’t listen to the elf, lass! He’s just a liar!”

“Interesting, coming from a dwarf who’s about to be a two-time loser!” Gimli shoots you an offended look as Legolas bursts into laughter. Aragorn walks over, standing beside you to watch, and you smile as Arwen sits beside you, greeting you gently.

Your conversation is eventually interrupted as Gimili falls off his seat, making the four of you giggle and making you cheer happily for Legolas. “Can I keep going?” He asks, making you smile affectionately.

“Why’s that?”

“I want to see if it’ll make me finally feel something!”

“Have at it, my friend.” Aragorn smiles.

“Would you grab me a pint?” You ask softly, gesturing to your legs. The new king nods, moving to stand beside Legolas and grab the drink.

“He adores you, y’know?” Arwen says softly, making you look at her.

“What?”

“Legolas.”

“He’s my friend!” You grin lightly, watching him gulp down another pint with Aragorn.

“He looks at you with more than that. You know how terrible he is at showing emotion… but I can’t help but notice how horrible he is at keeping his facade with you. Especially since after the battle.”

“You really think so?” You whisper, making her smile, and cup your cheek. 

“Know so. Elf-to-elf and all.” You smile again, glancing at Legolas as Aragorn hands you your drink.

“How’s he doing?” You ask Aragorn, sipping at the ale.

“He took care of you for a long while, so I hope you’re excited to repay the favour.” You snort softly.

“Do elves get hangovers?” You ask the couple, making both of them laugh lightly.

“Worse than humans.” You nod slowly.

➵

“What are you doing~?” Legolas sing-songs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and nuzzling the side of his head against yours.

“You’re certainly happy.” You remark, making him giggle happily.

“The ale is working! This feeling is wonderful!” You smile, reaching a hand up to cup the side of his head. He hums happily, the noise similar to a cat’s purr.

“I don’t think you’re going to be very happy in the morning.”

“I’ll be happy if you’re there. You’ll take care of me.” He smiles.

“That I will. It’s how I can repay the favour.” You turn to gently kiss his temple, making his smile widen. 

“You don’t owe me anything… Just a smile…”

“You’re a happy drunk, hm?” You tease.

“I’m just happy to see you. Very happy… I love being around you.” His body sinks to the ground, his head resting on your knees, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at you. Your expression softens, combing your fingers gently through his hair.

“You’re like a kitten.”

“Your kitten?” You snort, raising a brow.

“If you’d like.”

“I’d be your kitten… loyal to you… happy to be with you…”

“You're talking nonsense.” He shakes his head softly, his head resting against your good thigh.

“Love isn’t nonsense.”

“What?”

“Loving you isn’t nonsense…” He slurs softly, “It’s easy…” Your heart flutters, cupping his cheek.

“Loving me?” You whisper, thinking back to your conversation with Arwen.

“Dearly… couldn’t stand the thought of losing you in battle… Sometimes I think about giving up my immortality to be with you.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“Every word”

“Hopefully, you remember every word while you’re sober,” You mutter, making him raise a brow. “We need to get you back to the rooms.”

“Must we?”

“Let’s go.” He groans, standing unsteadily and holding onto you tightly.

➵

The morning comes slowly, Legolas’s form wrapped tightly around you as he snores, making you smile as your eyes flutter open at the morning sunlight. Your hand drifts into his unruly hair, a unique sight for the normally pristine elf. “Legolas…” You purr gently, making his nose scrunch up in distaste. “I want to get out of this dress… you’ve got to let me go…” He whines, making you laugh.

“How do you humans put up with this?”

“You should probably go through and then chug some water. If you don’t mind, I’d like to change out of my dress.” Legolas flutters his eyes fully open, scanning over your form and pulling away with an apologetic glance. “I meant what I said about throwing up.” You wink, unknowingly grabbing one of his larger shirts and stepping into the bathroom. You change slowly, trying to linger on the scent attached to the fabric as you pull it over your head.

Legolas pushes past you as you step back into the room, and you wince at the noise of his wretching. “I’m going to go grab you some water!”

When you return, he’s lying on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes. “Did I do anything stupid like you humans last night?” You pause for a long moment, making him move his arm to look at you before letting out a groan. “How bad?”

“I– bad– it–” You sputter, frantically glancing around the room to gather your thoughts. “I’ll tell you after you’ve slept so much.”

“That bad?”

“Not bad. Sleep.” He sends you a questioning glance before nodding.

➵

“He told me he loved me.” Aragorn's fork stops halfway to his mouth, and Arwen gives a knowing smile.

“I told you.” She smiles, making you roll your eyes, desperately ignoring the heat creeping up your cheeks. “And now somebody owes me a new dress.” She teases, making Aragorn smile.

“You bet on us?”

“It was obvious to anyone who wasn’t the two of you. Have you told him?” Aragorn asks, making you shake your head.

“I don’t want to tell him while he deals with his hangover… doesn’t feel very… romantic.” They both nod, continuing to eat.

“Drunk words are sober thought.” Aragorn remarks, giving you a mock toast with his glass.

➵

“Care to tell me what I said yet?” His voice rings out as you stand on the balcony, making you turn to face him.

“Feeling better?” He nods, stepping up to the railing, arm brushing yours. 

“Much. Now, please just tell me what I did.” You take in a sharp intake of breath, moving your hand closer to his and gently intertwining your pinkies.

“Youkindoftoldmeyouloveme.” You rush out, making his brows furrow.

“What?”

“You said you’d make a good kitten because you were acting like one, and you said you’d be loyal, and then you said you loved me.” You breathe out, refusing to meet his gaze. “You also said seeing me hurt was the worst you’ve ever felt… and that you wanted to give up your immortality for me.” The silence lingers for a long moment, the only noise the soft hum of the wind.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Maybe I need to drink more often.” He laughs lightly, making your brows furrow.

“What?”

“It’s easier to say the things I’m truly thinking.” You turn to look at him, faced with a loving smile as he cups your cheek.

“Truly?”

“I… I do love you… almost losing you… I… I love you.” He whispers despraley, looping his other arm around you to pull you closer, still minding your leg.

“Legolas…”

“What did the kitten have to do with anything?” You laugh.

“Clingy and basically purring.” He snorts, kissing your forehead. “Can we discuss mortality another day?”

“Only if you’ll let me kiss you today.” Your gaze softens, leaning up to press your lips to his. He hums happily, hand rubbing your side. “I didn’t tell you how much I like seeing you in my shirt.”

“I like it– smells like you.” He tucks his nose beneath your jaw, pressing a kiss to the warm skin of your neck.

➵

“About that dress?” Arwen smiles, looping her arms around Aragorn’s shoulders

“Name your price.”

[chrys-lism2]

Polish ۶ৎ Elizabeth Swann

f! reader

ao3 link

wc: 1,500+

summary: the story of you and your pirate-obsessed childhood best friend, elizabeth swann

tags: childhood friends to lovers, follows the plot of COTBP, lesbian elizabeth swann, coming out, first kisses

a/n: love you all!!!

divider cred: me!

“You’re going to get your dress dirty again! Your mother will yell at you for ages!” A young Elizabeth yells, watching you run into the rain. Your boots squelch in the mud as you giggle loudly, Elizabeth shaking her head.

۶ৎ

“That Collins boy was cute, wasn’t he?” Elizabeth asks with a giggle, taking down her intricate hairstyle as you watch her from her bed in the mirror.

“We’re only fifteen! We don’t need to think about boys.” You weren’t blind to the way the boys around town looked at Elizabeth. They basically crawled at her feet, begging for just a shred of her attention. None of them paid much mind to you, as you were known for how horribly unladylike you were and your clumsiness at balls.

“You know our fathers will marry us off the moment they have the chance.” She scoffs, and you ignore the way your eyes drift across her chest in her undergarments in the reflection. “Braid my hair?” Your eyes drift to hers, and you nod with an eager smile. She sits by the edge of her bed, handing you a comb. You gently gather her blonde curls in your hands, brushing through them and detangling them.

“I hate thinking about having to get married.” You whisper gently. Elizabeth’s delicate fingers toy with her necklace. “We both know that none of those boys like me anyway.” I don't even want them to.

“I don’t like it either. My father will probably send me off with Norrington.” You snort softly, beginning to braid her hair. “And plenty of the boys like you!” You brush the comment off gently, clearing your throat softly.

“Ugh, marrying Norrington!” You both burst into laughter, Elizabeth’s laugh making your heart twist with an unknown emotion. “Can you imagine?” She snorts. 

“I think my father will make me marry Beckett.” You groan gently, tying off her braid.

“You don’t want to get married?” Elizabeth looks up over her shoulder, and your stomach flutters at he gaze and the exposed skin of her chest beneath her nightgown. You shake your head, averting your eyes. Her hand finds yours as she rests her chin on your knees and looks up at you. “I think it could be fun.”

“How’s that book you found about pirates?” Her eyes light up, making you smile.

“Have you heard of the black pearl?”

۶ৎ

The sea crashed softly into the shore, the moon bright overhead. You’d come to terms with the fact that you liked Elizabeth a few weeks earlier, helping her shop for dresses. You couldn’t help but love the way her body had filled out and the allure of her natural beauty. Her talk of boys and pirates was always at the forefront, and you couldn’t help but ache as you sat back and listened. “Are you ok?” Elizabeth asks gently, grabbing your hand and stopping you in your tracks.

“Did Norrington really propose?” You ask softly, toying with her fingers and looking across the water.

“I haven’t accepted yet… I fell off a terrace and got threatened by a pirate.” She snorts softly.

“Do you think you’re going to say yes?”

“Why does it matter?” You slowly drag your gaze from the sea to her, heart melting at the reflection of moonlight in her eyes. 

“Elizabeth…” You breathe out gently, making her brows furrow.

“What?”

“Don’t marry him.” You blurt out suddenly.

“Why not?”

“I– Because I don’t– want you to.” You huff softly, squeezing her hand.

“Why not?” 

“Because I love you!” You shout, your voice echoing across the rock faces, a soft gasp leaving your lips, dropping her hands, and taking a step back.

“Wh–” Both of you scream as cannon fire echoes out, a ship nearing on the horizon. You reach for her hand again, making a run towards town. Screams echoed around you as you tried to navigate the chaos. Her necklace glitters in the light of the fire, catching a pirate’s eye.

۶ৎ

“Two lassies, hm? And what would be your names?” You introduce yourself shakily, hand in an iron grip with Elizabeth’s.

“Elizabeth… Turner.” The captain's eyes lit up just slightly, making your eyes narrow for a long moment before Elizabeth rips the necklace off and moves to hold it over the edge of the ship. She mocks the pirates softly, noticing their want for the gold, and before you know it, you’re swept back into chaos, thrown into a room beside Elizabeth.

“Guess the pirate books paid off, hm?” You tease lightly, looking over at her. She looks at you for a long moment, gaze tight.

“Never mind the pirates. You said you loved me.” Ice flares through your veins at her tone, pulling your knees to your chest tightly.

“I’m sorry–”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t! We’re both women! Daughters of governors nonetheless! What was I supposed to do?” She reaches out a hand to softly hold yours. The silence sits between the two of you, the soft creaking of the ship, and the crash of waves crashing against it.

“I don’t want to marry Norrington.” Your eyes drift to hers. “And– we’re on a pirate ship! We’re being taken who knows where to do who knows what!”

“What are you saying?” You whisper solty. She gives you the gentlest of smiles, crawling into your space and gently kissing you. You gasp against her, grip tightening on her fingers as she smiles.

“Fuck it.” She pulls away, sitting beside you and leaning her head on your shoulder. 

“We didn’t paint your nails today.” You whisper, voice shaky with the weight of fear on your shoulders.

“We’ll find a chance.”

۶ৎ

A larger pirate held you back as Elizabeth stood in front of the crew, her eyes glued to yours in fear. Word of her blood being spilled echoed in your mind as you hopelessly cried out her name. The pirates laugh before you watch the captain slice her hand and drop the necklace into the chest.

Silence arises as nothing happens for a long moment, and you flinch as the captain shoots the pirate beside you. Your eyes find Elizabeth’s again as an argument breaks out before you gasp in horror as the captain hits herm, sending her tumbling down the treasure.

Your heart drops as a crewmate suggests spilling all her blood, only to find out she’s gone. Was she leaving you behind? How had she gotten out? A chase erupts as it’s announced, leaving you defenseless in the middle of everything. Frantically, you glance around for a hiding spot, overhearing the negotiations a new pirate makes with the undead crew. Your small nook opens the sounds, and the residual fear and exhaustion take over.

۶ৎ

“Father, we have to find her!”

“You know she’s been a burden to her family for years! Her father didn’t even bother to come looking!”

“We cannot leave her to die! She is my– my friend!” Elizabeth cries softly, terror wracking through her veins at the fact that she hadn’t seen you in days now. Will was breathing down her neck with affection that she could not reciprocate. Norrington’s proposal is still heavy on her shoulders. Also, rationality leaves he mind as she reaches to grab Jack’s sword, bringing the tip to Norrington’s neck. “We’re going to save her.”

“Elizabeth, what on earth are you–” Her father’s voice rings out.

“She is my friend! I cannot leave her behind! I’ll jump in the water myself!”

۶ৎ

“Elizabeth–” Will says softly, making the woman give him a pitiful but empathetic glance.

“My heart belongs to another, Will.” She says softly, kissing his cheek.

“Ouch, mate. That one’s got to hurt.” Jack snickers, gathering armfuls of treasure.

“Norrington?” Will asks, making Elizabeth scoff.

“As if… where is she?”

“Who?” Jack asks.

“My friend. The girl who was with me! I haven’t seen her since Barbosa cut my hand!” Elizabeth glances around furiously, looking for you. She calls your name out, making your body jolt.

“Elizabeth?” You whimper out, body limp with the exhaustion of spending days in the cave. Her footsteps rush towards you, finding you with a relieved gasp. Her hands cradle your face with a tearful smile.

“You’re… alive…”

“You came back.” You cough softly, throat dry.

“How are you feeling?” She coos gently, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead before moving to lightly kiss your cheek.

“Hungry.” She nods, waving Jack and Will over.

“Can one of you carry her? Please?”

۶ৎ

You smile lightly as Elizabeth presses the cool rag against your skin. “You can finally paint my nails.” She coos, making your smile widen.

“What color?” Elizabeth gently sits you up, moving to sit across from you and intertwining her legs with yours as she gently feeds you. “I can eat on my own, you know.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should… and whatever color you want. I want you to pick so I can look at my nails and always think of you.” She kisses your cheek softly.

“I love you loads, Lizzie.”

“I love you more.” She smiles, brushing her nose against yours.

“No more pirates?”

“No more facing pirates alone.” She smiles, the expression treacherous. 

“I’m only saying yes because I love you.” She giggles happily, surging forward to kiss you.