summary: when you go out with the girls, they always get you drinking. designated driver emily (with an abnormally high alcohol tolerance) can’t handle all three drunk girls on her own. so what happens when she calls up bau unit chief aaron hotchner to come get you?
cw: alcohol, worried about consent, hurt feelings, slight angst, sharing a bed, aaron being constantly worried, jack don’t exist sorry
a/n: reader is shorter than aaron, reader is in a short dress, reader is also comfortable with the length of the dress. this might be unrealistic for some.
intelligence & issues (Hotch x Reader) -- chapter one
A/N: Hello all! This is my first time writing a Hotch fic, but boy I have been reading a ton the past few weeks. There just isn’t enough Hotch content out there, so I’m bringing some more! <3 (The chapter titles are usually song lyrics, and this one is from the song mentioned in the chapter!)
Chapter warnings: typical case debriefing, mentions of suicide/self-harm, poisoning, murder, but that’s all! Reminder that there is an age-gap (14 years) in this story!
Fic Masterlist
Chapter One: The word is out on the street that love is looking for you
It had been decided.
“If my life was a movie, I’d want 38 Special’s ‘You Keep Runnin’ Away’ to play over the opening scene.” You clap your hands together at the end, solidifying your answer. “And yes, I will be playing it for you all on the jet.”
summary when they went public people said things. she'd been carrying those things ever since. being sick at work was just the latest version of the same problem — don't give anyone a reason to point.
prompt – sick reader, BAU, age gap, people talked when they went public, she avoids Aaron, he gets insecure, Rossi explains, soft resolution
warnings – age gap insecurity, people being awful, anxious Aaron, soft hotch
word count – ~4k
note – "you don't have to protect yourself from me" ugh to obsessed with Aaron Hotchner right now
requests are open :)
⋆｡°✩ 🎀 ♡ 🎀 ✩°｡⋆
When they'd gone public six months ago people had talked.
She'd known they would. She wasn't naive about it — the age gap, the power dynamic, the fact that she worked directly under him in the most literal professional sense. She'd known from the moment they'd decided to stop pretending it wasn't what it was that there would be a period of people having opinions about it.
She hadn't been fully prepared for what the opinions sounded like.
Using him to get ahead. Sleeping her way up. Does she even deserve her cases or is that just pillow talk? How do you think she got assigned to that consult? How old is she even?
None of it said to her face. All of it audible anyway — in comments, in conversations that went slightly quiet when she walked in, in the specific quality of certain people's attention that had changed after the announcement. She'd sat with it and said nothing and worked harder and kept her head down and eventually it had faded to background noise.
But it hadn't disappeared.
It was still there underneath everything — the specific weight of needing to be above reproach at all times because anything less became evidence for people who had already decided the verdict.
So when she got sick on Monday she did the only thing that made sense.
She didn't tell him.
The avoiding started subtly.
She stopped staying at his apartment — said she needed to be at hers for various reasons that were technically true if not the actual reason. Stopped waiting for him at the end of the day. Started taking different routes through the building, the specific navigation of someone managing proximity.
At work she was professional and present and gave him nothing to read.
She thought she was doing well.
Aaron noticed on Monday evening.
She'd said she needed to go home — her place, not his — and he'd said of course and kissed her and watched her go and told himself it was nothing. She had things at her apartment. She needed her own space sometimes. Normal.
On Tuesday she'd taken the long way to the briefing room. He noticed because he noticed everything about her, had been noticing everything about her for long enough that deviations registered automatically.
On Wednesday morning she'd said good morning to Rossi before him.
He sat in his office on Wednesday afternoon and looked at his phone — no messages from her since that morning — and thought about the last four days and felt something cold settle in his chest that he didn't have a name for.
He called her at six.
She answered. Talked normally. Said she was tired. Said she'd see him tomorrow. Said goodnight.
He sat with his phone after and thought: something's wrong.
Rossi appeared in his doorway on Thursday morning.
Not asking. Just appearing, with two coffees and the expression of a man who had decided something was getting addressed today.
"Close the door," Aaron said.
Rossi closed it. Sat down. Put one of the coffees on the desk.
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
"She's avoiding me," Aaron said finally.
"I know."
"Four days." He looked at his desk. "She's sleeping at her apartment. Different routes through the building. She responds to my texts hours late and when she does it's—" he stopped. "Everything is fine. Nothing is actually fine."
Rossi said nothing. Which was its own kind of response.
"Did I do something?" Aaron said. Quietly.
"No."
"Because I've been going through it and I can't—" he stopped. The jaw. The controlled thing running underneath. "She's been different since last week and I don't know what changed and I've been sitting in this office for four days trying to figure out what I did."
Rossi looked at him carefully. "What do you think you did?"
"I don't know." Aaron looked at the window. "That's the problem. I don't know. And when I don't know and she won't tell me I start—" he stopped again. Put his hands flat on the desk. "I start thinking maybe it's not something I did. Maybe it's just—" he exhaled slowly. "Maybe she's realised something."
"Realised what."
"That this is complicated," Aaron said. Flat. "That I'm complicated. The job, Jack, the history, the—" he gestured slightly. "The gap between who she is and what I come with." He looked at Rossi. "She's young. She has everything ahead of her. And I—"
"Aaron," Rossi said.
"I've been watching her pull away for four days and I don't know what to do with it," he said. Quietly. The most unguarded he'd been all week. "Because if she's decided it's not worth it I need her to tell me. I can't—" he stopped. "I can't keep waiting for the day she doesn't come back."
Rossi was quiet for a moment.
Then: "She's sick."
Aaron stared at him.
"She's been sick since Monday," Rossi said. "Fever. Sitting at her desk on cold medication pretending everything is fine."
"Why didn't she—"
"Because of what people said when you went public," Rossi said. Simply. "She can't be the girlfriend who gets sent home by her boss. She can't give anyone another data point." He held Aaron's gaze. "She wasn't pulling away from you. She was pulling away from the situation. Trying to make herself invisible until she felt better."
Aaron said nothing.
"She's been carrying what those people said since it happened," Rossi continued quietly. "Every day she comes in here she knows some people in this building have already decided who she is and why she's here. She can't afford to be sick. She can't afford to need anything from you at work. She can't afford to be seen as anything other than completely self sufficient." He paused. "So she went to her apartment and she took her cold medicine and she sat at her desk and said nothing."
The office was very quiet.
Aaron looked at his hands. At the phone with her last text — I'm fine, talk tomorrow — that he'd read six times.
"She wasn't pulling away," he said. Slowly. Like he was recalibrating something that had been wrong for four days.
"No," Rossi said.
"She was protecting herself—"
"From the conversation you two are going to have to have," Rossi said. "About what it costs her to be with you at work. What she carries that you might not fully see." He said it without accusation. Just fact. "She loves you. That's not the question. The question is whether she feels safe enough to be human around you without it becoming ammunition for someone else."
Aaron was very still.
"Go talk to her," Rossi said.
She was at her desk.
He saw it now — with the context Rossi had given him, the specific quality of it resolved into something clear. Pale. Slightly glazed. The careful focused expression of someone working very hard at appearing to be fine. He'd missed it because he'd been looking for something else, reading her distance as emotional rather than physical.
He walked past without stopping.
"My office," he said quietly. Just for her. "Five minutes."
She came in. Closed the door.
He was at the window. Turned around.
She had the composed professional expression she brought to everything at work — present, controlled, giving nothing away.
"Sit down," he said.
"Aaron—"
"Please."
She sat.
He came and sat across from her. Not behind his desk — in the chair beside it, the one he used when he wanted the conversation to be equal. She noticed. He watched her notice.
"Rossi told me you've been sick," he said.
She looked at her hands. "I'm fine—"
"You've had a fever since Monday."
She said nothing.
"And you've been sleeping at your apartment and taking different routes and not answering my texts for hours." He held her gaze when she looked up. "I noticed all of it. I didn't know what it meant and I spent four days—" he stopped. Something moving across his face. "I thought you were pulling away from me."
Something moved across hers in response.
"I wasn't—"
"I know that now," he said. "Rossi explained." A pause. "But I need you to know that I spent four days convinced I was losing you. That you'd decided the complications weren't worth it. That the gap between your life and mine was finally—" he stopped. Pressed his lips together. "I was sitting in that office every day trying to figure out what I'd done and coming up with nothing and that was somehow worse."
She was looking at him with the expression that meant she was feeling something she wasn't ready to show yet.
"Aaron—"
"I'm not saying it to make you feel guilty," he said. "I'm saying it because if we're going to talk about what you've been carrying since we went public then I need you to know I carry things too." He held her gaze. "And mine is the specific fear that one day you're going to realise I'm too much and not enough at the same time and you're going to stop coming back."
The room was very quiet.
"I'm not going to stop coming back," she said. Quietly.
"I know that more now than I did this morning," he said.
She looked at him for a long moment.
"The things people said," she said finally. "When we went public. I thought they'd stop and they mostly did but they didn't — they didn't go away. And every day I come in here I know there are people who have already decided why I'm here and who I am and I just—" she stopped. "I can't give them anything else. I can't be the girlfriend who gets special treatment. I can't be the one who goes home early because her boyfriend is the unit chief. I just—"
"I know," he said.
"It's exhausting," she said. Quietly. Like it had been waiting to be said for six months.
"I know," he said again. Softer. "And I should have done more when it happened. I should have made it clearer publicly. I was being careful and I left you to carry it alone and that wasn't—" he stopped. "That wasn't right."
She looked at him.
He stood up. Came and crouched in front of her — making himself smaller, making the conversation private.
He put his hand over hers.
"You don't have to protect yourself from me," he said quietly. "Not here. Not at home. Not anywhere." He held her gaze. "Being sick isn't evidence of anything. Needing to go home isn't a data point. It's just you being human and me caring about that." A pause. "You're going home today. Not because you're my girlfriend. Because you have a fever and you've been sitting at your desk for four days and that's my job to address regardless of everything else."
She looked at him for a long moment.
"Okay," she said quietly.
He squeezed her hand once.
Stood up.
Went back to his desk — the unit chief returning, the professional distance resuming.
She stood up. Straightened her jacket. Walked to the door.
"Aaron," she said.
He looked up.
"I'm not going to stop coming back," she said again. More certain this time.
He held her gaze.
"I know," he said. And meant it completely this time.
"Go home," he said.
She went home.
He arrived at seven.
Soup. The quiet efficiency of a man who had decided something was being handled. No fuss. No big conversation. Just him sitting beside her on the sofa with her feet in his lap and the particular warmth of two people who had said the difficult things and were now just being in the same space.
At some point she said: "I'm sorry I made you think I was leaving."
"I'm sorry people made you feel like you had to be invisible," he said.
They were quiet.
"We're both apologising for things that weren't entirely our fault," she said.
This might be a… lot… to ask, but since first reading ACOTAR i could not help but imagine what it would have been like to be Under the Mountain in Feyre’s place. Then, after falling in love with the bats, that thought transformed: what if all the bat boys were there and they met human!reader there? Either she was in feyre’s place (poly!bats, everything else the same as the plot in acotar, just feyre is replaced) or as feyre’s sister (cazriel, idk how to justify her being brought back to life alongside feyre).
Unfortunately i can spiral this into a series so idfk how you’d fit it into a one-shot (mby focusing on the trials and aftermath?)
But y’know
Food for thought
this definitely challenged my skills as a writer but i had fun with it! thanks for the request! hope i managed to do it justice <3
poly!batboys x human!reader under the mountain [1.9k words]
CW: ANGST, suicidal ideation, hopelessness, suggestions of torture, Amarantha, the Attor, allusion to Rhys’ SA, mostly hurt with some comfort
Your skin burns in every place it meets the cold, damp stone of the dungeon floors, despite the fact that you’re quite sure it’s cold enough to induce frostbite if you can’t bring yourself to move before too long.
You can’t bring yourself to move.
You’re surprised you can feel anything at all anymore, surprised your nerve endings haven’t all died along with the last bit of hope that once fluttered its tiny, battered wings against your chest.
Your chest is hollow now; empty, gaping.
Dark.
The darkness has surrounded you, has settled over your skin and sank deep into your bones and you think if you haven’t made a home here in it, it has certainly made a home in you.
You’re not making it out of here; no one’s making it out of here. You’ve doomed all of Prythian with your feeble humanity. You’re no saviour; you’re a fool. Pathetic.
You can’t close your eyes because each time you blink, your mind is flooded with the image of all the people you’re going to let down. Lucien, your first friend in the fae realm. You think of his mother and her quiet support of you in thanks for saving her son. You want to wretch at the memory now; you didn’t save him.
You’ve doomed him, you’ve doomed all of them.
The screaming starts again, though you can’t be sure it ever actually stopped.
You wonder if you’ll scream when your time comes. You wonder if Amarantha will draw it out, enjoy her time with you like she’s enjoyed the agony of her countless other victims, some of whom still exist on her walls, in the ring on her finger.
But you doubt you’ll even survive long enough for Amarantha to have her fun with you; you’re not sure you’re even going to survive the night.
You’re helping Nature along in her valiant effort to reclaim you, the way your already rotting carcass has started to seep into the cold stone beneath you. At least out of the two of you, Nature will be successful in her endeavours.
Another scream pierces the air and you time your exhale with the ringing of it. You don’t bother sucking in another breath until your lungs burn.
It’s a few moments before you realize a quiet has settled in the dungeons, and you only become aware of it when your dark cell darkens even further.
Maybe death has finally come to claim you, shadows settling in inky little pools of whisps beside you like the darkness has also decided to lay down on the floor in solidarity.
Resigned to your fate, you close your eyes in surrender. The heat of the tears you didn’t realize you still had in you fall over the bridge of your nose and sting so violently that you think you might actually be hypothermic.
The shadows surrounding you are disturbed by movement, though not your own.
“C’mon, princess,” a voice murmurs, hints of desperation present in his tone despite barely raising his voice at all.
A solid warmth lands on your arm and it feels like a branding iron.
“You’re freezing,” the voice continues, the warm weight rubbing up and down your arm like it’s trying to imbue its own warmth into your very soul by means of friction. “C’mon, you can’t give up on us now, yeah?”
Neither the voice nor the warmth is going away, so you eventually peel your eyes open.
The tip of a bat-like wing permeates your vision, illuminated only by an ominous red glow with no discernible origin.
Despite your previously mentioned early stages of decomposition, you manage to go scrambling away from the mass.
“Hey, hey hey hey, whoa,” the voice—Cassian, the Night Court’s general—cautions. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re alright.”
Your responding inhale is ragged, your eyes quickly flitting around the cell to ensure it’s only him in here with you.
“Who’d you think it was?”
Shadows skitter towards the door of your cell, as though peeking beneath the threshold to keep an eye on the comings and goings.
You try to tell him, but your throat is so tight with panic and dry from disuse that you choke on the first attempt. “I- the…Attor.”
Cassian’s face screws up in a sour expression. “Ouch.”
Your wide, disbelieving eyes move to meet his, and his face softens again. “No, gorgeous. The Attor isn’t in the practice of checking on prisoners in the dungeons.”
You work to catch your breath, still painfully disoriented as you lean against the stone wall. “And you are?”
His lips turn up at that, a hint of the warmth that this horrid place has tried to snuff out of him present in his weary eyes. “Only my favourite ones.”
You can’t bring yourself to smile, so you suck in a breath and blink instead, humming in acknowledgement.
“Thank you,” Cassian whispers.
“For what?” you ask, heavy eyes falling closed.
“For breathing. It’s one of our favourite things that you do, you know.”
Your brows furrow, wondering which part of that sentence makes the least amount of sense to you. You don’t do anyone favours by breathing.
“Our?” you settle on.
Though you don’t see it, his smile brightens the entire cell. “Well sure, gorgeous. You have met my mates, haven’t you?”
You’re still not entirely sure how this whole mate thing works in the fae realms, but you’re quite sure you know who Cassian is talking about. Rhysand—High Lord of the Night Court—and the other Illyrian (the other owner of bat-like wings that do not belong to the Attor) Azriel; a shadowsinger, though you don’t know what that is or what it means.
It’s not as though you’ve had a whole lot of time to interact with any of them; you’re not exactly here to mingle and make friends. Seeing as you’re supposed to be saving their lives, your time under the mountain has been spent enduring Amarantha’s cruelty, surviving her trials, and feeling sorry for yourself.
“They like when I breathe, do they?” you ask around a sigh.
“Very much.”
You manage to open your eyes, catching Cassian’s concerned expression before he schools it into something a touch more discreet.
“Well, enjoy it while you can, I guess,” you murmur, raising your hand to rub at your eyes but thinking better of it when you realize how filthy your hands are. “I don’t think I’ll be doing a lot of that for very much longer.”
“Don’t say that,” he argues, reaching into a pocket to pull out a vial of purple liquid and pulling the cork from the top. He holds it out to you expectantly.
“What’s this?” you ask, though you no longer have the self-preservation skills to wait on his answer before you throw back the minty concoction.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t immediately take you out of your misery.
“A little something for the pain,” he explains, accepting the empty vial back from you.
“Rhysand already healed me,” you argue, knowing you have the bargain tattoo on your hand to prove it.
“I don’t mean the physical kind,” Cassian corrects gently, and your eyes sting.
“What are you doing down here?” you whisper instead of crying in front of him.
“Checking on you,” is his simple reply.
You want to ask why, but you’re not sure you actually want to know the answer. You settle on, “how?”
The siphon on his chest pulses slightly, despite the fact that most of his power has been siphoned by the horrid creature that is Amarantha a few stories above you in the mountain.
“Well, Rhys is keeping that wicked witch…occupied,” he explains carefully, echoes of the sneers you’ve heard from Prythian citizens—Amarantha’s whore—sounding in your mind. “And Azriel is keeping watch.”
With that, a few of the shadows come scurrying back over to you before returning to the cell door.
“Just to check on me?”
Cassian offers you a sad smile, tilting his head at you. “To check on you.”
One shadow flicks Cassian on the back of the head. “Son of a- and Azriel’s shadows stole the tincture for you.”
Your eyes flit back over to the dark mass of…dark. “The- those are Azriel’s?”
Cassian nods, and you’re so lost in your thoughts—tallying up all of the times you’ve felt the shadows encompass you like a cloak as you wept, or the subtle flickers of darkness you relied on during your first trial with the giant wyrm—that you don’t notice Cassian has pulled out a bowl of stew until he’s holding it out in front of you.
“When we get out of here, he’ll tell you all about them. Alright?” Cassian promises, the words falling from his lips like a vow and you want to scream, you want to throw the bowl of—still hot, somehow—stew at him, you want to ask him how he could be so foolish as to think that any of you will ever see the outside of this mountain; that you have any chance of making it out of this alive.
“And I’ll take you flying; I won’t even fly like an ass, okay? I’ll take it slow, show you all my favourite sights from the sky. Rhys can take you anywhere you want to go, show you every court—even the continent, if you want. He’ll buy anything you could ever dream of, you’ll never want for anything. Just please hang in there, okay? Please.”
You don’t realize you’ve started to cry until he’s reaching forward with a gentle hand and brushing away a salty track with his thumb. He looks horribly pained and deeply apologetic when he says, “I have to go.”
“What?” you manage, still not entirely sure you didn’t actually die an hour ago and this isn’t just some strange post-death, pre-reunion-with-the-Mother hallucination.
”I have to go,” he repeats, his other hand mirroring the first as he brings your head forward to kiss the space between your brows. “The rotation is about to shift. I’m sorry. You’re okay.”
You think he might say that last bit more for his sake than your own.
“You’re okay,” he says again. “I’m sorry.”
And then he’s gone. The cell feels so much colder, so much lonelier, so much more despondent without his presence.
You sit there with a contraband bowl of stew in your hands and tears streaming down your face as the screaming starts up again and your heart pleads its desperate case to give up the ghost for an indeterminate period of time.
And then, oddly enough, you hear music.
Gentle notes at first, lilting and soft as they sift through the cells of your walls before growing stronger, more bold as the song progresses. Shadows appear from the cobwebbed corners of the ceilings and swirl about as though dancing to the tune currently plaguing your cell.
Then, one nudges your hand, forcing your gaze down to the quickly cooling bowl of stew in your hands, and you think of warm hands and eyes as you take a bite, and then another. You end up finishing the bowl before the song even ends and a few shadows disappear with the evidence of your contraband in tow.
SUMMARY: [Following the Divergent movie] After learning your new result from the aptitude tests, Four wants you into his world to show you how to pass. He’s determined to make you pass.
—————
After learning your dear friend took the hard way of not accepting the fact he was going to become faction less, you felt fear take over your body. Your mind was running a thousand miles a minute after seeing your dead friend on the ground—how could I let him do this? You began rushing toward the doors that led outside, gasping for the fresh air of the odd morning to reach your drowning lungs. Before you could make it, you ran into a hard wall, looking up you see the hard wall being your instructor Four’s body.
“I’m sorry.” You sniffled as you tried to walk past him but you felt his hand grip onto your arm. He pulled you towards him but you ripped away from him. “Stop, please Four.”
“It’s not your fault he chose this way.” He says. You look up at him and see the way his eyes glistened in the lights of the hallways. His eyes.
“Even if it’s not, I don’t deserve my position I have now. I feel like an intruder.. like I’m-” you stopped yourself from saying the word. You see Four furrow his eyebrows at you. “Like what?”
You let out a shaky breath and looked into his eyes. A tear sliding down your cheek before letting him know what you felt. “They’re going to kill me.”
You felt more tears slide down your face. You knew your fate. You knew what was going to happen to you once you reached the second level of the training. You were warned what was going to happen if you were caught. You were determined to train yourself to not get caught but once you saw the cold, dead body of your once good friend lying on the floor, that hope and determination escaped your mind.
You knew what was going to happen to you no matter how long and how much you train yourself to surpass it.
“Why do you say that?” He asked but it didn’t feel like a question. It felt like a rhetorical question—he knew why but he wanted me to tell him the reason.
I looked up at him, tears staining my red cheeks and my bloodshot eyes piercing through his.
“You know why.”
He clenched his jaw from your response and let out a hum. “Follow me.” He says, turning around and walking around the corner.
You knitted your eyebrows in confusion and followed his order. You followed right behind him, his body becoming your shield from the dim lights of the hallways. His silhouette figure on the walls devoured yours—it was alluring to you.
Once you both reached the room you have been in before for the fear tests, you watch as he takes off his jacket and set it on the chair. He looks up at you and gives you a small nod, letting you know you can close the door. You do so and face him again. He begins to prep like he would do before testing one of his trainees for the fear exam.
“You’re going into my world.” He states. You widen your eyes, taken back by what he just said.
You watched as he gets the metal syringe ready for the serum. What felt like seconds ago he was telling you to be careful—to watch what you say towards him as you watched the way his jaw moved from the food he put in his mouth. Now he was allowing you into his world of fears. Into what kept him up at night and took over the controls of his body.
“You’re just going to let me into your mind?” You asked in disbelief.
“Mhm.”
“I don’t know a single thing about you and you’re just letting me into your world.” You scrambled. The way the vibration of the words slipped off his tongue made you tingle—his voice was deep and husky, it filled you with something you didn’t understand.
“What do you want to know?” He asked, stepping closer to you. Instinct kicked in and you stepped back. He stopped and scanned over your body, “are you afraid?”
During the whole duration of what felt like hours of him getting ready for the transition, he kept his gaze fixed on you. It felt intimidating the way he held his eyes so confidently over your face—your body. It was the first thing you noticed about him when he lifted you off the net when you first jumped down, the way he held his gaze so strongly over you. The feeling of his hands gripping your waist as he helped you onto your feet was engraved onto your skin ever since. The first moment you locked eyes with him and saw how dark and dusky they were, they seemed empty and bare the first time you stared into them. It made you want to know more about what he put a front on.
“You need to know how to handle your fears correctly. How a Dauntless would. If you want to pass without being suspected of what you are.” He stated. You watched as he injected the serum into the skin of his neck and release the liquid. You scan over his face to see his reaction but he was emotionless; like he’s done this a million times. He walks over to you with the syringe in his hand, ready to inject you next.
“Why can’t we just practice with my fears? So I know how to face them when the time comes.” You asked. He ignores what you say as he grabs your face with his left hand, his right with the metal syringe ready to pierce through your skin. Before he does so, you feel the pad of his thumb caress gently over your cheek, like he knew it was going to hurt you but he wanted to protect you from the pain.
“This will be a lot easier. I can’t see your fears clearly on the monitor. I need to show you what you need to do to pass.” The tone of his voice felt like he was pleading with you, begging you to open up to what he was going to show you, but he also sounded afraid of what you might think once you go and experience his fears with him.
You nodded at his words.
You felt a slight pinch into your skin, your nose scrunches in pain and you let out a small sigh from the contact. He slightly raises his eyebrows, like he was letting you know he was sorry for what he did. After he was finished, he placed the metal tab on the outer corner of your forehead along with himself. He then guided you onto his lap in the chair, your back facing his chest as your legs intertwined on the chair that was centered in the corner of the room. You felt him grab the sides of your waist as you lifted yourself to lean back into him, the warmth that overtook his body was now intact with yours. It felt nice feeling the rising of his chest every time he took an inhale and feeling the breath come out of his mouth onto the baby hairs of your neck.
“You ready?” He whispered, his lips so close to your ears. You nodded in response. You were ready to see what kept his mind uneasy on days he thought too much. You wanted to know what pained him in his dreams and screamed him out of them.
“I’ll see you in there.”
—————
A/N: hello my dudes, I am back! And with my first ever imagine of Four. I hope you all enjoyed this as I enjoyed writing this for you all.
Please let me know if you want me to write a part 2 to this of being in his hallucinations. This scene is my favorite part of the movie and I wanted to write a little something about it.
A.N: so I actually busted this one out pretty fast I am surprised at myself???
Request: @sokkasdarling — HEY LOVE can i pls request smth for aragorn? simping for this boy recently. with the prompts “i’ll keep you warm” and/or “i’ve got you” thanks in advance! i hope ur having a wonderful day<3
Pairing: Aragorn X Reader
Summary: Aragorn and (Y/N) are traveling through the Mountains and things happen.
In simplest terms, being a Ranger of the North could be hard. In less simple terms, it’s the down pour of cold rain that drenches you to the bone, it’s the freezing hail that burns at your skin, and it’s the wicked winds that force your body backwards. All of these struggles, all of this pain—is it really worth killing a couple vile beasts born of darkness?
Yes. Yes, it is.
Therefore, when Strider, as annoying as he was, requested that (Y/N) come with him to examine the rising numbers of goblins throughout the Misty Mountains she obliged.
Can you write something about bau reader wanting a hug from aaron when they're on duty while they're in a secret relationship? Like she sees him being good with a kid or smiling at soemthing and shes overwhelmed with how much she loves him? No pressure <3
secret affections
i'm swooning i need him cw; fem bau!reader, secret relationship, brief case talk, aaron being soo sweet and fluff <3
Aaron was sitting across from the witness, a sweet kid who couldn't be older than six. A social worker stood off to the side observing as Aaron leaned forward just enough to seem engaged but not imposing, his voice calm as he began to ask questions.
There was a set of blocks in between the two of them; a light distraction meant to keep the conversation feeling easy - almost normal - as they talked.
The boy's mother was currently missing, and that was already hard enough. But when you add to it that his father, also missing, probably had something to do with it, it gave Aaron all the more reason to be as gentle as he could while learning more about what his life was like at home.
Behind the observation window, you stood with your arms loosely crossed, watching the scene unfold. The glass dulled the sound, making it impossible to fully hear their conversation.
Morgan sidled up beside you, you acknowledged him with a faint lift of your lips before gazing back in.
Inside, Aaron’s mouth formed into a reassuring smile, keeping his voice light. “You’re pretty good at this.”
“My dad says I build too slow,” the boy mumbled, not looking up.
Aaron’s expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle shift in his eyes. “Slow’s not bad. It means you’re careful.” He reached for a block, waiting for permission before placing it.
"I almost forget sometimes." Derek stated after a moment, the half-formed sentence completely out of the blue.
Your head turned, "forget what?"
"That he's like that." He gestured in, Aaron stacking the block himself on the growing tower. "He's on our asses so much, y'know? It’s hard to remember he’s not… like that all the time.”
Affection bloomed in your chest at the quiet confirmation - Aaron was a sweetheart. It was something you already knew, of course, but there was something special about hearing it coming from somebody else. Or about seeing it in a secondary form; despite being scared, unsure and talking to a near stranger, the little boy didn’t hesitate to immediately trust him. Traits that Aaron had were enough to put him at ease, and that meant something. It meant everything.
Your lips curved softly as you watched the two of them, warmth settling in your chest.
"It's sweet." It was an offhand, forgettable comment that didn’t reveal anything about the actual nature of your relationship with Aaron, but it made you feel better to say it. Even if what you really meant was, he's sweet.
You considered yourself lucky that you had the privilege of witnessing his gentler side on a daily basis. Whether directed towards you, Jack and or anyone else Aaron came into contact with.
You both lapsed into silence after that, simply watching Aaron interview the witness for about ten more minutes. You could barely keep still, suddenly aching to tell Derek that you and Aaron were together. To say it out loud to someone, because just watching him made your chest feel like it might burst.
After he was through, Aaron got up, closing the door and joining the two of you.
"Hey," your eyes softened, and you hoped they didn’t give anything away. “Any luck?"
Aaron sighed, looking over his shoulder and back into the room. The social worker crouched beside the boy, hopefully reassuring him of what a good job he’d done. "Some. He knows something, definitely saw something happen. It's just a matter of figuring out what and how it can help us. He just… he needed a break,” he shook his head briefly. “I couldn’t do it to him anymore.”
"Poor kid." Morgan sighed, and you nodded in agreement, your bottom lip jutting out in a sympathetic pout.
“Yeah.” Aaron said as mouth fell into a line, his eyebrows furrowing. You fought the urge to reach out and touch his arm.
Morgan headed in the other direction, making it all too easy for you to follow Aaron - close enough that your steps nearly fell in rhythm with his - as he made his way to the conference room. It wasn’t deliberate, or something you had to think about. Just a natural, steady pull.
You simply wanted to be near him; the kind of closeness that came from loving someone so deeply it felt instinctive, like gravity. A feeling so full it made your chest tighten, whether you were beside him or not. You understood, completely, what people meant when they called someone their lifeline.
Aaron felt how close you were, your steps nearly overlapping with his. Just before you reached your destination, he slowed to a stop. He turned to you, his voice soft with a hint of concern, his brows quirking in slight confusion. A small chuckle left him, keeping his voice low. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you rushed out, a touch too quick, warmth rising to your face as if the question had caught you off guard - as if you hadn’t been dating him for the past six months. "It's just, I just..."
Your shoulder dropped in slight defeat and instead, your eyes softened once more. This time, they relayed everything you had concealed in them not even five minutes ago. In summary: I love you.
The tension that had been pulling at Aaron’s face eased, his features settling into that loving look reserved only for you. You didn’t need to elaborate. "Me too."
Prompt: Legolas is seriously injured after an orc fight, the reader takes care of him in Rivendell + reader braiding his hair.
Pairing: Legolas x Gen!Neutral Reader
Requested by: Anon Words: 1.8k
Triggers: Fighting, blood, angst
Genre: Angst + Fluff (Happy Ending)
Lotr/The Hobbit Taglist: @ta-ka-shi-ma
You turned quickly as another orc ran towards you, quickly slicing him down, you make your way across the battlefield. The orcs had recently been spreading across the land causing havoc on the people. This was one of those times, but not so luckily for them, a group or elves, including you and Legolas were travelling in the area when the orcs descending on a nearby village. They would not get away so easily this time.
As you approached another elf being bombarded by orcs you helped to fight them off. You struggled against them as it was now five against two with a few more approaching.
Legolas, who had nearby looked across the battle, seeing you and the other elf struggling. He also saw a rather large orc running quickly at you from behind. Legolas quickly ran towards you, hoping to make it to you before you were over-run by orcs.
You grunted as you knocked another orc away from you, staggering as you dodge the blow from another. You managed to kill two of them, but more were coming. You could sense someone running at you from behind, just as two orcs lunged at you from the side and front.
Dodging one sword, another sliced along your arm making you hiss in pain as you stabbed him and knocked him down before defending yourself from the other. Just as you met your weapon with him, you heard a yell from behind you. Glancing as far as you could back, you see a large orc preparing to swing down on you with an axe.
You were about to try and move out of the way, though you knew you would not get fully out of the way of the axes path, when you saw a figure with light blonde hair appear between you and the large orc.
Your eyes widened as you heard a grunt of pain come from the figure, as the axe struck his shoulder. Quickly kicking the orc in front of you, wanting to go to Legolas’s aid, you stabbed the orc, turning just in time to see Legolas successfully stab and kill the larger orc.
Summary: You’re Gandalf’s granddaughter. When you and the dwarves are captured by the spiders and subsequently freed by Bilbo and the elves, you meet a certain blond elf and save him from an unexpected spider attack. However, your defense leaves you badly injured and at the mercy of the one they call Legolas.
“Where did they bloody come from?!” Thorin swung his sword around in a circle, dispatching three of the gruesome spiders scrambling towards the two of you.
“I don’t know,” You ducked the blade just before it sliced you in half, using the position to slash a spider’s legs out from under it. “But do you truly want to question it in this particular moment?”
Summary: You are Gandalf’s granddaughter. After being wounded while fighting the spiders, you and the dwarves are taken prisoner to King Thranduil’s castle. While Thranduil questions and bargains with you and Thorin, he is unaware of the severity of your injury. Or the circumstances behind which you sustained it.
Warnings: Injury, blood, fainting
“Prince Legolas, the king requests that he see both of them.”
“Tell the king that she is injured and must be tended to first.”
Summary: Request -I had an Aragorn request that I wanted to send you; if it’s something you’d be interested in writing I know it’ll be perfect (but if it doesn’t strike your fancy I completely understand)!! After reading your fic with the orc attack I was thinking about how Aragorn would respond to reader being injured defending the hobbits... Read Rest Here
A/N: Thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) Kinda angsty but hella fluffy as always :)
Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.1k +
TW: orcs, talks of blood, arrows, getting shot, yelling, angsty
You and Strider had been Rangers together for the better part of fifty years now. The two of you quickly found solace in the other. The two of you just seemed to compliment the other. What he lacked you picked up for him and vice versa. It wasn’t often he could find somebody who just understood him. So, he decided to keep you close but always safe.
He did what he wanted after all. He had a high enough ranking quickly. You were assigned nearly every patrol, raid, quest whatever the hell it was he did it with you. And you learned quicker than you had ever thought even possible with his aid. He wasn’t brutal on you, but he was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. He wanted you alive, so he trained you to stay that way. He had to be a little mean. A little too much sometime. For that was the real world. You couldn’t go out in the world as freely as one once could.
So, when Gandalf proposed the deal of getting the Hobbits from Bree to Rivendell he had agreed on the condition you could come with them. He wasn’t willing to leave you in some random village town in Eriador. No, he would never do that. Gandalf had agreed without a second thought thinking it was a good idea to have two Rangers instead of one.
You had decided fairly quickly that the Nazgûl was on your list of least favorite things in middle-earth you’d had the pleasure of coming across. You could deal with spiders and orcs buts these creatures were eerily different. Ice cold and terrifying, soul sucking. But you needed to remain stoic in the face of it all to help the Hobbits. The poor things were shaking they were so terrified. You’d tried stories of tales far and wide to shake their minds of their troubles, but it seemed no use as they only looked to the two of you in terror around every twist and turn.
When you stopped for the night to camp you’d noticed that Strider had led you deep into a dense forest. You’d never been the best at tracking, so you often led it to him. You really should’ve paid better attention before as you were often so reliant on his talents.
“I am off to gather a few plants for some tea. I will be back in an hour. Y/N, I trust they shall remain safe in your care?” He asked and you nodded without so much as a second thought.
“Of course.” You smiled to him, “Off you go. I know how mean you get without your tea.” That earned a hearty round of laughs from the Hobbit’s as they laid out their bedrolls for the night. It was nice to hear such a pleasant sound instead of hearing the screeching in the distance.
“I will remember that.” He glared at you with humor in his eyes before ducking into the night.
You turned back to the Hobbit’s with a stupid smile on your face not quite realizing how much you were giving way of your likeness towards the man, “Off to bed we go.” You shooed the silly little smirks right off their faces.
They all nodded quickly falling asleep without so much as a second thought. You were mighty jealous at the way they just did that. It took you far too long to fall asleep these days. Worry kept you up more than you liked to admit.
Thank whatever was out there for that worry that wouldn’t let you sleep as you heard the distant voices and branches breaking far off in the distance. Orcs. Had to be, they were so noisy. Your heartrate spiked as you heard them before you spotted them in the dark night. How in the hell had anything found you all the way out here?
“Up! Up!” You whisper shouted before shaking each of the Hobbits awake, “Abandon the camp we must go. Run” You grabbed for your sword and spare bow and arrow before ushering the small Hobbit’s further into the forest.
They ran ahead confused and disoriented having just fallen into a deep sleep but trusting you nonetheless. You knew you had made too much noise but did not quite realize how much the smaller ones were making as they ran.
You paused for a brief moment knowing your longer strides could catch up. You took a look behind you to see how in danger you truly were. The orcs hadn’t spotted your little group quite yet except one with keen eyes. Adrenaline shot through you as you saw the orcs arrow trained right at the back of Frodo’s head as he ran forward. He’d be dead instantly if the orc shot the arrow before you could stop it.
Panic shot through you as you ran ahead beside him pushing him to the ground with more force than you’d truly meant. You’d thought you were in the clear before the searing pain of being shot by an orc arrow throbbed through your shoulder blade sending you to the ground before you could think. Frodo rolled beside you which sprung Merry, Pippin and Sam into action as they pulled the two of you behind the thick trees of the dense forest. Fortunately for you it was mid-summer, and the forest was coated in dense foliage making it that much harder to find you and the Hobbits hiding in the trees.
Frodo looked more confused than upset before he saw the arrow protruding from your body. He’d understood instantly, “You have been hit miss Y/N!” Merry’s concerned voice only rose a few octaves as he saw the large arrow sticking right outside your shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked but you tried your best to bite back the tears as they were so unseasoned to such horrors in the world.
You looked down wincing at the arrow surely coated in poison. Thankfully you were only a few days out from Rivendell. You’d be fine… Strider not so much. Shuddering at the thought of the man who would be so mad you got hurt, you turned to the small Hobbit’s sitting in fear beside you.
Ignoring the arrow sticking out from your shoulder you sat up from the fall you took, “Listen, for there is not much time before they try and find us. Frodo and Sam run. Go find Strider. He will help end this swiftly.” You nodded watching them run quickly off into the forest. You’d sent Frodo off as he needed to be as far from the attacks as possible.
Wincing you turned yourself as best as you could towards Merry and Pippin, “Now, I need you two to be brave. You must snap this arrow as close to the wound as you can. I will fight these orcs off, but I cannot do that with this sticking out.” You huffed eyeing the rather large wooden arrow searing its mark in your shoulder blade.
Merry only gave you wide eyes as Pippin shook his head answering your request, “I cannot do that.”
“Not can I!” Merry agreed.
You looked behind you a little panicked seeing the orcs moving in closer. Far too close for your comfort. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to them, “It does not matter any longer. Time is of the essence now. You must or we all die.” You glared at the two of them letting them both know quite how serious this was.
“Aye, turn away.” Merry stood with shaking hands grabbing at the arrow earning a hiss from your mouth. Pippin took his hands in his helping him get the leverage he needed to break the thick wood.
“All right.” You turned your head away clutching your hands into the earth trying to ground yourself. You had to fight back everything that was telling you to pass out as the arrow snapped in two under the hands of the much smaller Hobbits. A quiet whimper left your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay conscious. The orcs were close. You had to do something.
“Miss Y/N” Merry sounded concerned as he saw your face pale out and the orcs move closer, “Please be okay.”
You nodded blinking back the wave of nausea taking over your usually so agile self. This did not feel like your standard orc poison. You knew what that felt like and this was not it. This was moving faster than anything you’d been hit by them with, “I am fine mister Pippin.” You breathed trying to blink back the unshed tears. Pain only reminded you that you were alive. With another small groan you stood from the ground trying your hardest to fight the searing fire in your shoulder, “Stay quiet and hidden. It is best to attack them by surprise. Strider will be back soon. Let us try and wait this out as long as possible.” You whispered grabbing your sword from its sheath at your side.
You waited in silence as the first of the few crept into your field of vision. They must have been lost. No way a pack of orcs were this dumb. Or they were on a special mission. But you could wait no longer as they were likely to hear your breath or any sort of movement for he was a mere step away from you now.
Quickly, you sliced off its head without much of a sound. The loudness of the animals in the night covered up for its lifeless body hitting the ground giving you a second to recuperate and fight back the overwhelming feeling of pain now making its way down your arm.
When you killed the second and third the attention was finally on you. You were not able to be as graceful and let out a cry of pain as you had to use your bum arm to defend yourself. Darting behind a tree you narrowly avoided another arrow coming right for your head this time. But you didn’t have time to panic as the man you had been waiting for finally made his grand entrance. Just as you suspected it was over before it really begun. You were a fine Ranger. But Strider was an expert one.
Leaning back on the tree you let out the breath you were holding in. Never had you been so close to losing someone so quickly on a quest. Never had you been so close to being eliminated. You were usually so much better than this. Strider was getting in your head, and you were losing focus. A Ranger losing focus! That was unheard of. But Strider was your exception it seemed.
“You arrogant fool!” Strider yelled right at you as he came storming over to where you were leaning on the tree. He hadn’t seen the broken arrow in your shoulder nor the way you were holding your arm upright. He didn’t notice the sweat the coated your face or the distant gaze in your eyes. He was mad and he wanted to take it out on someone. That someone happened to be you.
You let out a cry in pain as he grabbed for the arm that you were holding gingerly. Even the smallest movement made it feel like your arm was getting ripped right apart. You had forgotten how painful poison was for it had been nearly fifty years since you’d been struck. The bastards made it as fast and as painful as possible. And whatever this stuff was seemed worse than before.
He moved his hand away from your arm after hearing your strangled cry. Pushing you back up against the tree, avoiding your injury, he felt the sticky liquid coating your outer garments. Blood. Of course, he knew what it was. He had only begun to panic as he saw the deliriousness in your gaze. You were hurt and badly at that. He was not used to this.
Frodo jumped in between the two of you, pushing Strider away just slightly, “She saved my life master Strider! Please have no anger towards her.”
His heart raced as he ordered the Hobbits to light a fire nodding at Frodo that he was done lashing out at you. He knew you needed a helping hand. Not one to hurt you while you were down. Gently, he pushed you down to the ground, “Sit down, nigol.” He’d all but ordered as he helped the Hobbit’s start a small fire. He couldn’t see your wound and you weren’t so forthcoming with information. That and he wanted to see it for himself.
A small smile came to your lips remembering the old nickname he’d given you, “Nigol… you have not called me that in quite some time Strider.”
Brushing your comment aside he asked you, “What happened?” As he sat down next to you waiting for the fire to glow so he could inspect your wound.
You turned towards him holding your eyebrows close together trying your best to bite back the pain, “Orcs happened is all. Caught a poisoned arrow to the shoulder.” Letting out a strangled sigh you sat further back against the tree.
“How did you get hit?” He clarified with more patience in his voice than you were used to. Maybe you looked worse than you felt because he never, ever cut you a break. And you appreciated him for that as you were still alive and usually avoidant of such injuries.
“Ugly bastard was aiming right at Frodo’s small little Hobbit head.” You frowned realizing if you hadn’t noticed Frodo would be sure as dead. You caught Strider’s smile at your crass language for he knew he would never grow tired of your fowl tongue. He loved it about you, “Had to push him out of the way and he nicked me instead.”
“I heard that miss Y/N!” Frodo yelled back at the two of you shaking his head at you, “Elves are not the only creatures with good hearing!” You only smiled as you watched them feed the small fire with more twigs and sticks. It surprised you that Strider ordered a fire for you’d just been ambushed. Who knew what else lurked beyond the trees that kept you hidden.
You let out a strangled laugh feeling the effects of the poison inch its way through your system. You watched as Strider looked at you with concern. It wasn’t often you were the one on the receiving end to such a look. You’d been under his wing for a better part of half a century. You’d gotten really excellent at not getting hurt. It must have been jarring to see you fighting the pain back with such a force. He’d never admit how much he had grown to love you. He didn’t like to see you in pain. Not a bit.
He sighed seeing the fleshy wound, “You must not be so careless next. I have trained you better than that.” He sighed inspecting the wound closely, “I must remove the arrow.” He spoke slowly feeling his heart drop at your startled expression.
You shook your head with a vengeance for you did not like that statement “We are but a few days from Rivendell. Surely they will have healers who can do that properly.”
He bit back the frown as he looked at your arm, “You will not have a few days if I do not get this out.” It wasn’t ominous but simply the truth.
“Is it not an Orc arrow?” You looked down knowing what his answer was going to be but trying to ignore it in your head was proving to be a challenge.
He gave you a solemn nod, “Aye, but it does not appear to be orc poison.”
All you could muster was a simple, “Oh.” Not thinking that was a possibility. You’d still concluded it was a different form of Orc poison. What could they possibly be using?
“It appears to be something much darker.” His frown only deepened as he was studying your wound. He had ripped your shirt where you had been hit to examine it closer. It was turning black far too fast to be the standard orc poison they’d become accustomed to.
You shuddered knowing the pain would be intolerable. You already seemed to be teetering on the precipice between the living world and the unconscious world, “Do your worst then.” You spoke quickly turning away and grabbing at a stick on the ground. When you tuned back he was just looking at you with such a sadness you couldn’t help but to ask, “What?”
He shook his head breaking the stare he had on you, “Nothing. Bite the stick. Don’t fight me. You know the rules.”. It had been a long time since you were at the mercy of his hands. You were but a young Ranger the last time you’d been caught in such a dreadful position. Back then you had medicine to at least dull the pain. This was going to be hell you thought as you placed the soggy stick in your mouth. Something to bite into, crucial to keep you from yelling too loud.
But you didn’t need to worry about that issue too much as darkness took over only a moment after he begun to tug on the broken arrow embedded in your shoulder. Of course, you didn’t catch the concern or the panic that overtook him when he saw you collapse into unconsciousness so easily. He didn’t waste a second longer after the arrow was removed from your shoulder to pick you up and carry you in his arms telling the Hobbits that they had to get a move on for your sake. With hushed complaints the group was off to Rivendell in the dead of night.
It must’ve been the pain overtaking the adrenaline that had subsided that made you fade out of unconsciousness. As your body stirred awake the sun rose in the sky before you. Strider only cradled you closer to his chest when he felt you squirming beneath him. A rather large sigh of relief escaped him as he looked down seeing you slowly blink your eyes back into reality.
“Did you enjoy your rest then?” Strider smiled most genuinely down to you for as much as he loved teasing you it sure made him happy to see you awake once more.
You cracked your own smile at his sarcastic words, “It was nice, thank you for inquiring.” You hummed squirming once more in his embrace. When he locked his hands around you it was only then that you realized he was carrying you like so and he had no intention of letting you out of his grasp.
He chucked seeing your startled expression. It was also new to him too and he really did not want to admit just how much he had enjoyed holding you close to him. It put his normally anxious heart at ease. He had long since found you beautiful. He knew he had loved you when he first heard you speak your mind to a superior all those years ago. For nobody, not a single man, had the courage to speak the way you did. And you had the skill to back it up. That was why he panicked seeing your injured silhouette in the forest. For if you were to go down he had no idea what he would do. You were so deeply embedded in his life he could not even begin to fathom a life without you in it.
He ran faster than he ever had before when Sam and Frodo found him foraging for plants. When they came in blabbering that you had been hit by an arrow he began sprinting in autopilot. It drove him mad feeling like it took longer to get to you. He was there in no longer than a minute to kill the ten or so orcs that were hunting you, the one he loved. He was a maniac when it came to protecting you. He hadn’t meant to yell so harshly at you but he was scared. Terrified of the thought of losing you, his person.
He noticed the pink beginning to return to your face and more relief flooded his overstressed system, “You are getting some color back.” He noticed as he held you closer, “That is a good sign. The poison must not be spreading.”
You let out a long yawn feeling the effects of it all starting to come over you once more, “That is good. It does not hurt as bad either. Just aches a bit.” Your eyes drooped as you tried to fight off the sleep that was overcoming you.
“Rest. Go to sleep, nigol.” He smiled down to you with nothing but love in those striking eyes. He’d been carrying you for hours already, what was another few anyway?
“Nigol.” You hummed remembering the times he called you that all the way back when you first had met him. He refused to tell you what it meant and by the time you finally met an elf you’d forgotten the nickname altogether, “What does it mean?” You inquired hoping he would indulge you this time as you were on the verge of unconsciousness.
He laughed, throwing his head back and all. You admired the way his dark hair framed his fair face as he looked back down at you. He was truly so handsome. It wasn’t fair he was placed in front of you like this and yet, was so unattainable, “I did not tell you fifty years ago, why would I tell you now?”
“I thought I would try.” You sighed, “Does it mean something bad? You only use it when I mess up.” You asked him once you concluded the worst. He often used that nickname early on when you two had been partnered up. It’s use seemed to fade as you had gotten more competent. Yet now when you had a bum shoulder rendering you useless he used it once more.
He shook his head quickly, “It is not bad. I can promise you that.” He eased your worried face quickly with his words.
“Well, I suppose I can accept that.” You didn’t want to push feeling oddly unlike yourself in his arms. Usually combative and wanting to pick a friendly fight you felt like doing anything but that. You just wanted to enjoy yourself in his embrace as you knew this moment would likely never occur again.
He knew you better than anybody else. He noticed how shy you were suddenly acting. Was it the nickname? Were you tired? Was the poison moving faster than he could? He looked down seeing you continue to fight sleep. Usually so powerful you looked helpless in his arms. His eyes softened as he realized how much trust you had to have in him to relax into him like so. You were always on guard, always ready. Frodo was alive because of that instinct. But now you were at his will and he felt more responsible for you than he had ever before.
“It’s Sindarin.” He admitted wanting to give you something more as you had given him exactly what he wanted, you.
Feeling your eyes getting heavier you replied with tiredness in your voice, “I had concluded that Strider. You did tell me you were raised by elves, remember?” Lazily, you smiled up to him laughing as best as your body would allow you.
“It is Sindarin for little one.” He finally admitted to you, “Or mouse.” He looked down at you nervously hoping you’d have a decent reaction to it.
“Mouse? Little one? I should be offended.” You grinned not taking offense in the slightest for you found it oddly adorable he had given you such a sweet nickname.
“Do not take offense.” He spoke quickly, “I did not mean it that way.”
“Relax, Strider.” You yawned once more feeling your head rest of his chest heavily. Sleep was coming on quick, “I am just teasing you. You are so easy to mess with.”
“Sleep now, little one.” He gave you another gentle squeeze letting you know he had you. It was alright. You could trust him as always. And trust him you did as you found yourself in a quick sleep right back in his arms.
“There you are.” Strider’s voice pulled you from the sleep that had overcome you on the road. When you blinked you were stunned to be laying in front of a fireplace in a rather grandeur room. You must have made it all the way to Rivendell which meant you had been out for days at this point.
“Are we in Rivendell?” You tried to sit up before his hands pushed you back down, gently, into the plush elven bed.
“You must lie still.” He ordered before answering your question, “Yes. You have been unconscious for nearly four days. Lord Elrond was unsure if you were to make it.” His eyes were laced with something you had hardly seen on the man in your many years of knowing him, fear. He looked scared, terrified. Yet almost relieved seeing you awake.
“Four days?” You swallowed back your surprise.
He gave you a quick not, “Almost, you even have Lord Elrond worried.”
You sighed, “I did not mean to do that.”
He moved closer, sitting on your bedside. Taking his chance he brushed your stray hair away from your face, “You always do that.”
You just looked up at him, “What?”
“It is just that you always care for others before yourself. As much as I love that about you. Think about yourself for once. Care for yourself. You are far too kind.” He spilled his thoughts to you for he was too tired. Too scared at the thought of losing you he was not going to hold back his tongue anymore for he knew he loved you. He wanted you. He couldn’t see you with anyone else but him.
You blinked back surprise at his outright confession. Sure, the two of you had danced around any feelings for quite literally years. But you would have none of that, as sweet as it was, “You did not say that when I slayed half an orc army with you.” You spoke with a hint of playfulness in your tone. It was your favorite game to play with the man.
He laughed a full hearty laugh. A laugh so pure, one you’d heard so rarely from the man. He only laughed like that when he was at peace. Happy. Comfortable and relaxed. A sight that you could really get used to.
“For that is true.” His eyes searched your for any sign of pain. Any sign that something was wrong. He could not quite believe you were finally awake and chatting with him like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been knocked out cold for that long. When Lord Elrond had started to get nervous. Strider was not dumb. He grew up with Elves and knew their tells. When an elf grew worried he knew things were not boding well.
You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze, “What? Is there something on my face? Because that would be embarrassing. I have been asleep for three days and you let something stay on my face for that long?” You rambled not quite sure what you were doing. He was making you nervous. Strider never made you nervous. But when he gave you that earnest look you completely lost yourself to him. How fickle your brain was behaving.
He bit back a laugh sensing your nerves, “No. There is nothing marking your face. I was simply admiring you was all.”
Was he trying to kill you? Your cheeks were sure to be a bright rosy, red for his second confession was bolder than his first, “Admiring me?”
“Indeed. I would not be the man that I am had you not been by me all these years. I thought I was going to lose you. But now that you are back I get to admire you.” He spoke with that soft voice he only used ever so often. It was fascinating to get to know an entirely different side of the man you thought you knew through and through.
“I deserve no such thing.” You laughed trying to shake off the seriousness of his gaze down on you. He did not find your statement the least bit humorous.
“While I do not agree I also do not wish to argue. How do you feel?” He changed the subject even though he might have enjoyed watching you squirm. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he did not miss the small jump you had in response to his contact. Touches he had given you so often before had changed. Things had shifted between the two of you and for the first time in a long time he was excited. He had a purpose. His purpose.
You gulped back your argument and nodded in agreement, “I feel fine, will you let me sit up now or must I stare up all afternoon?” You quipped hoping your quick mouth would let him know just how fine you really felt.
Shaking his head, he held out a hand for your to take, “You may sit up, but take it slow.”
“I was shot by an arrow Strider. I did not get my legs cut off.” You took his hand letting him pull you up to sit next to him.
He rolled his eyes yet still held admiration in them, “That mouth will get you in trouble one day.” His eyes traced your face as you too just looked at him. It didn’t feel quite real that he could have admired you just as you him. Had you been blind?
You hummed in agreement not being able to take your eyes off his, “Not if you are there to protect me.”
It was he who broke the staring game going on between the two of you as he collected his thoughts, “Indeed, little one. There is nothing truer than that statement.” Gaining some courage, he took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze, “Please never scare me like that again for I cannot bear it.”
“I will try my hardest, as long as you promise to do the same.” You nodded towards him feeling bashful in front of the man you’d grown to love. The man you had only hoped to love you as he did. The man you never could have imagined felt the same. Yet here you were.
Giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, he simply nodded to you, “I promise, little one. I promise with my whole heart.”
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Summary: Request: hiyaaa i have another legolas fic ideaaa! You write him soo well. How about reader who hasnt slept in a while and always offers to take watch. Legolas ofc notices after a bit and demands she doesnt take watch that night... Read Rest Here
A/N: Another one for my fav elf. Thanks always for the requests!!
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.1k +
TW: General LOTR triggers, anxiety, fear
Throwing out your bedroll you knew it would be a useless effort trying to sleep as it was so dark out. The stars were hiding behind a thick layer of cloud that had other plans for the night. The further along in the journey to Mordor the more your anxiety grew. Ever since the group was attacked by orcs not long back you couldn’t seem to fall asleep at night. You were left to sleep during the small breaks the Hobbits needed or when you got to sit on the horse.
The attack was weeks ago now. The lack of sleep and the constant moving was really starting to get to you. You’d do anything to be back in Rivendell under the elves protection. One of those elf beds would feel immaculate in this moment.
“I’ll take the first watch.” You yawned, speaking to the group as they huddled around the fire trying to keep warm.
Legolas looked up to you with skepticism in his eyes. He was the most observant of the group. He’d noticed you slept less than he had ever since the ten of them left Rivendell. He didn’t know you well. You’d come accompanying Boromir, but he quickly grew a liking to you. You were quiet and reserved, speaking only when you thought it was needed and always helping. Even him being an elf didn’t negate the fact he found you quite striking for both a non-ellon and a human altogether. That and you were far more intriguing than any other creature he’d come across in all his years across middle earth. How had the thirty-year-old mortal done that to him? What were you doing to him?
Legolas was a far departure from his father, King Thranduil, who had a disdain towards the human race. Instead, Legolas found humans, you more so, absolutely fascinating. How much the race managed to cram in their short lives. It exhausted him at the thought of what mortals went through. But it was their normal.
“Aye Lassie. Why don’t you let Legolas take the first watch. You’ve been up quite a bit, yeah?” Gimli spoke up after Legolas had confided him in of his worries over you. Usually, you were chatty and upbeat, but that personality Legolas had looked forward too had vanished all too quickly.
“Oh, it’s all right. Really. I’m not terribly tired.” You lied. You were exhausted but sleep just wouldn’t come.
Legolas shook his head, “I insist, Y/N. You’ve taken watch nearly every night for the last few weeks. You need a break.”
You bit your cheek trying to bite back your usual sharp tongue. He was just trying to be kind. Little did he know he was doing the opposite of what you wanted. You craved a distraction from the darkening thoughts in your mind that drove your fear and anxieties through the roof.
You gave up after a few hours. The snores of all the males around you irritating you more than soothing you too sleep at this rate. You got up from your bedroll and walked down the path to find Legolas. You knew he’d be displeased at your arrival but truly, you could not sleep. After a few moments of wandering in the dark it was he who found you. He had the advantage of being an elf and all.
“Whatever are you doing awake mellon nin?” It was like he appeared out of thin air startling you more than you wanted to admit. You spun around look up into his ever so blue eyes that shone bright in the darkness. Somehow they were striking even in the dead of the night.
“I said I could not sleep. Gimli’s snores are bothering me. I needed to be away.” You sighed in frustration.
Legolas took your hand like he had so many times before. You tried to ignore the way your heart raced at his touch. Needing to get over it, it wasn’t uncommon to have to touch or pull or shield another person or creature in the fellowship from time to time. It didn’t mean anything; it was just how things were. Legolas could never like a human like you. You’d be gone in the blink of an eye. It was probably funny for elves, little mortal crushes that they likely forgot about after some time.
“Come sit.” He pulled you down with him at the base of a large tree. Once you’d settled down beside him he continued, “What bothers you?”
You weren’t really going to tell him. That was far too embarrassing. You were supposed to be a fearless Ranger of Gondor. You’d been hand selected to travel with Boromir at request of his father, Denethor II. How could you deny such an honorable request? A female hand selected? You had a job to do, and you were going to do it well. Even if it quite literally killed you.
Instead, you shrugged, “Cannot sleep is all.”
Legolas wasn’t going to accept that as your answer, “Why not mellon nin?”
You turned your head to look at his, “I don’t know. Sleep has always been hard for me.” It was a lie even Legolas could see right on through.
He was quiet for a moment before pressing on a bit further, “You view me as your friend, no?”
You’d known him for a few months now after departing from Rivendell and naturally you’d grown close to him the quickest. Boromir was always a comfort as he reminded you so much of home, Minas Tirith. But Legolas brought out a different sort of bliss that drew you too him. He was funny, witty, sarcastic, and so different than any other elf you’d met in your almost thirty years in middle earth.
“Of course, I do Legolas. Why do you ask?” Maybe if you played dumb he wouldn’t press.
But you were wrong, “You can talk to me about what is bothering you. I have noticed you have been… off.” He paused looking over to you to see your reaction. Your eyes widened slightly at his realization of you sudden change. You should’ve known he would notice. He was far more observant than the common male you usually found yourself around in the mortal world, “I am worried for you mellon. I have not seen you smile in weeks. When was the last time you slept through the night?” He asked hoping you would open up to him for once. Legolas had found you to be particularly hard to crack. Most Rangers were but you didn’t seem like you’d ever budge. You’d been trained to be a stone wall and you were excelling at it.
You looked down feeling suddenly guilty for making him worry about you of all things. There were so many things that his attention needed to be on, not you and your emotions, “I cannot sleep. Not at night at least.” You yawned feeling the exhaustion overwhelming you, but your mind would not shut off even as you begged it.
Legolas nodded, motioning for you to continue, “I know this.” He said without judgement.
You let out a small sigh knowing you’d just have to tell him. He was never going to stop, not now, “Ever since the orc’s attacked us. I can’t seem to sleep. My head will not let me Legolas. I try, trust me I try so hard. And I am so tired. So tired I am afraid I have become a liability. What good will I be in battle if I can hardly handle my sword anymore. I am weak and tired and…” You felt the tears overwhelming your vision as you let it all out. Once the words had started it was like a waterfall had come out of your mouth.
Legolas ran a comforting hand up and down your back as you let it out. You wanted to run away from his touch as you had so many times before. You were a Ranger. Rangers had solo lives. You couldn’t get attached; it wasn’t fair to anybody let alone you. But damn, as his fingers traced up and down your back you knew you needed it. This life was lonely, and you were terribly touch starved. It felt so good. You knew his touch kept you from spiraling further into your own mind. Thankfully, the tears subsided before a full-blown anxiety attack took over your emotions.
Once your sniffles subsided he spoke up trying to continue to provide you the needed comfort, “I will let no harm befall you mellon nin.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze hoping it would provide you some additional comfort you needed. Legolas was no expert in elf emotion let alone human woman ones. But you seemed to be responding to his gentle advances positively so he concluded he must have been doing something correctly.
You sniffled knowing you probably looked awful under the tears that had slipped out. It had been so long since you cried. Not when you learned your mother had passed. Not when you’d been stabbed many times over training and being a Ranger. No, now when Legolas had finally got you to open up to him after months of trying.
“You cannot promise that Legolas.” Your voice sounded horse after letting more out than you had intended.
His eyes narrowed in on your puffy cheeks, raw from the crying, “I can, and I do, Ranger of Gondor.”
But you shook your head in response, “I do not wish to ask that of you Legolas. You need to look out for yourself and the Hobbits.”
“And you.” He only cocked his head to get a better look at you. He wasn’t shying away from the conversation like you were. It had become too difficult to look him in the eye at this point. You were too mortified by the breakdown and the now defense that was stemming from it.
He was as stubborn as you were, “Legolas you…”
But he stopped you by placing a hand on your arm, “I do not wish to offend. But you can hardly hold up your sword any longer. Do not think that has gone unnoticed by me nor Aragorn. You cannot protect yourself let alone Boromir. Not until you let yourself rest.”
You looked away once again in shame. Thinking you’d done an excellent job at hiding these exact ailments. Words were suddenly hard as you failed to come up with a sentence. What was the best way to admit how scared you were to sleep. How embarrassing for a literal Ranger. If anybody were judging, thankfully for you, they chose not to say a thing.
“As I said, I do not wish to offend you.” He said once more, this time a little softer as he dropped his hand from your arm leaving you aching for that touch that seemed to come so rarely these days.
“Hardly.” You swallowed your breath and took the moment to finally look at Legolas once again. He was studying your exhausted form before his icy blue eyes landed on yours. While you knew you couldn’t see him as well as he could see you, your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. He was a vision even coated by the darkness of the night. You’d never been particularly fond of elves. You had always found them to be far too prim and proper for your rough lifestyle. But Legolas defied all your expectations by being exactly what you hadn’t expected him to be.
He let out a sigh knowing you weren’t going to say anything further, “Will you try to sleep?”
But you shook your head, “No. It just frustrates me. Laying there, listening to the rest of them snore away.”
The elf next to you contemplated something for a few moments before finally saying something, “Go grab your bedroll.”
“What?” That was the last thing you expected him to say.
“You will sleep here.” He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
There weren’t many excuses you could make as you just shook your head in disagreement, “I cannot do that…”
“Why not? I will help you sleep.” He stood from his spot offering a hand out for you to take. With slight hesitation you let him pull you up from your seated position on the base of the tree with a small pull.
“I do not wish to burden you with such small problems. We have much larger problems at hand is all.” You spoke out your final fear. Why should he care? All of middle earth was relying on your group to make it to Mordor to get rid of the ring. What was a little lack of sleep when orcs and evil could be ruling the world if they were unsuccessful.
His head snapped to yours with nothing but concern. An emotion he’d been wearing as he looked over you as of late, “You are not a burden. You are never a burden. It is a burden to see you not sleep. It is a burden to see you so weak when you are so strong. It is a burden that you have not come to me sooner mellon nin. Go get your bedroll and bring it here. I will help you sleep.”
Snapping your mouth shut you simply nodded to him, “I will be back momentarily.” Walking with haste you walked like a dog that had been kicked by its owner. Legolas had never been so outright with you before. You are never a burden… what had he meant of that?
When you had gotten back to him, very momentarily, he had already cleared out a space for you to sleep. Without saying much more you got into your bedroll knowing that sleep would be hard to come by, even away from the snoring of the males. Even getting all your fears out into the world you still knew sleep would never befall you.
“Close your eyes.” Legolas sat next to you being sure to keep his senses heightened as he helped you.
But before you did you needed to know one thing, “Legolas?”
“Yes?”
You turned your head towards him, “What did you mean I will never be a burden?”
He smiled a touch at your unusual vulnerability peeking through, “Exactly that mellon nin.” He began to brush through your knotted hair gently. His mother did this so many times when he was young to provide a sense of comfort. With the utmost gentleness he brushed out the knots from the long days of travel and lack of being able to wash, “I care for you very deeply, you know that. You are never a burden. You are my…” He paused wanting to say more but knowing it was not the right time. He was trying to get you to sleep not confess is true feelings, “friend. And I care for you. We care for you. We need you to care for yourself now.”
You hummed knowing he was right, “Okay. But… I am scared. Sleeping brings the terrors I cannot hide behind any longer.”
He shook his head continuing to stroke your hair, “I will fight them away. Fear not. Close your eyes. Trust me.”
You nodded closing your eyes beneath his gentle touch. Even as stubborn as you were his soft touch through your hair was already lulling you into a state you hadn’t seen in nearly three weeks. His tender touch was almost enough to lull you into a hopefully dreamless sleep. When he started softly humming a tune you’d so rarely heard you knew sleep would overcome you shortly.
“Thank you Legolas.” You mumbled unsure if the words were even coherent in your sleepy state.
“I will be here you when you wake, mellon nin.” He continued humming and brushing through your hair even after your breathes evened out letting the ellon know you were finally asleep. He continued to have his touch on you throughout the night knowing it was what your needed to feel safe.
When your eyes were hit with the sun the next morning Legolas had kept true to his word. He was sitting beside you with his eyes on your waking form. You’d have been more embarrassed by his eyes on had he not spoken up before you could.
“How did you sleep?”
Scooting to sit up next to him you gave him a quick nod, “Very well. I do not believe I woke up once. I feel… good.” Giving him a smile that he had so rarely seen form you as of late he grinned in return to yours.
“Good. We will do this again tonight.” He stood offering his hand to yours.
You took his hand once again relishing in the closeness the two of you were having so ardently over the last few hours, “You must sleep too.”
“Do not worry about me. I have had plenty. With you taking every watch as of late I have been able to rest.” He smirked knowing you wouldn’t have a good enough comeback for that one.
“If you insist…” You wanted to give him an out. He didn’t need to care for you. To watch over you. He had other, much more important, things to worry about.
“I do.”
Deciding it best to pack up you just looked to him after, “All right then. We will do this again tonight.”
He nodded with a small smile playing on his lips, “I have forgotten how agreeable you are once you have slept my lady.”
Your mouth dropped open at that backhanded compliment that came so naturally to your elven friends, “I am not that bad.”
He shook his head mindlessly placing his hand on your back guiding you back to camp as you were distracted by him, “Just less stubborn is all.” His grin only widened seeing you crinkle your nose up trying to come up with a comeback but coming up short.
“You test my patience elf.” You spoke with a hint of sarcasm coming from within. As much as he tested you, you needed him far more than you could imagine. He’d become somebody to lean and rely on. Somebody who could be there for you when it was so often the other way around. He promised you’d never be a burden to him.
He laughed that beautiful sound that made your heart race, “And you mine. But, I would have it no other way.” You shut your mouth as the two of you made your way to camp where the eight of them were sitting, waiting on the two of you. He must’ve let you sleep longer than normal because they were all awake and ready to go. But seemingly unfazed by your appearance with the elf. He must’ve done or said something. Making true to his word. You would never be a burden.
Summary: Request: Could you write something about (fem)reader who's part of the fellowship and really close to Strider? When they split up to find Frodo after Boromir blows the horn, reader goes with Merry and Pippin and gets separated from Strider.... Read Rest Here
A/N: Picking up when the group reunites in Isengard after Treebeard/Hobbits/Reader sack the place :) This is really sweet and fluffy, thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !!
Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.7k +
TW: General LOTR triggers, anxiety, fear, kidnapping, orcs,
Aragorn followed behind Gandalf as he led the small group to Isengard to deal with the dark Wizard himself. What he wasn’t expecting was to run into another part of the Fellowship after so being separated for so long.
He heard the Hobbits before he saw you standing there, radiant as ever, “I feel like I’m back at the Green Dragon after a hard day’s work.” Pippen spoke with his pipe happily placed in his mouth relieved the events of Isengard were over more than anything.
Merry spoke next, “Only, you’ve never done a hard day’s work.” That’s when he heard your bubbly laughter in response to the usual joking hobbits who were clearly very inebriated. You on the other hand seemed totally in control of the situation.
Aragorn’s heart pounded in his chest as he spotted you standing with your side facing him chatting happily with the two Hobbits that stole you away from him. You were alive. Somehow more beautiful than he ever remembered you being. His eyes scanned up and down your figure making sure they truly weren’t deceiving him. You were here in Isengard. Merry and Pippen too.
Merry stood, almost falling over, shouting at them with rosy, red cheeks, “Welcome my Lords, to Isengard!” You turned with the biggest smile on your face. Once your eyes landed on Aragorn’s you couldn’t take them away. Your smile grew as his mouth dropped in shock seeing you standing there alive and well. He couldn’t track you. He thought the worst of it. He knew right then that he had to tell you. He loved you. So deeply. He never knew if he was going to see you again, he thought the worst of the Orcs after not being able to find your tracks with the Hobbits.
“Y/N.” He spoke before nearly shoving the Hobbits away from where you were standing. He needed to be right next to you. Your smile turned to one of focus as you took him in after too long apart. Truly, you knew you loved him too. You wished to never spend another night away from your Strider. He was your home and comfort. He became your person without you even knowing it.
Without another word you through your arms around him tightly, bringing him in for an unexpected embrace. Unafraid of all the glances and knowing smiles from the fellowship and other men around you. You couldn’t seem to care about that right now, you’d deal with the embarrassment later, “Strider. What are you doing here?”
Before he could answer you Gimli shouted from behind the reunion, “You young rascals! A merry hunt you’ve led us on… and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!”
After dropping your arms from around his neck, you stepped around your missed companion taking offense to his words, “They’ve earned it Gimli!” You only smiled bigger once you felt Striders hand resting on the small of your back. He had always been protective of you but never so forward with it. The two of you had pined from afar but never acted on it as that would be seen as improper. But that was then. That was before he had feared the worst. You were alive. Breathing right in front of him with the most precious blush sitting on your cheeks. Yeah, he knew it was over for him. He needed you and was tired of trying to hide it.
Merry cheered with his pipe after you spoke and before Pippen tuned in, “We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts.” He giggled in his non-sober state, “The salted pork is particularly good.” Pippen added for good measure knowing it would get under his dwarf friend’s skin.
You nodded along with them giggling yourself, “It is indeed.” You saw the gleam in Striders eye like he was trying not to laugh at the situation they had found themselves in. The plan certainly wasn’t running into the three of you while in an inebriated state. Aragorn knew you well and currently you were particularly giggly, a sign you’d partaken in some of their endeavors even if you tried to deny it.
The Hobbits waved their friends into Isengard, “We’re under orders from Treebeard who’s taken over management of Isengard.” Merry led the group in leaving Strider standing next to you holding onto the reigns of his horse. After the two of you shared a few moments just staring at the other he finally decided to speak to you. Neither of you were willing to follow the group at that moment. The two of you had a reunion to attend to before dealing with Saruman.
“I thought you were dead.” He admitted to you. Aragorn couldn’t meet your eyes as you just looked at him with a bit of bemusement forming along your tapered smile.
You tisked at him shaking your head, “You think so little of me Strider, no?” A growing smirk was playing at your lips as you studied his downtrodden expression.
His eyes finally looked into yours again, “Never, you know this. But I… I could not find your tracks along the Hobbits…”
“You did not think I would cover my tracks?” You eyebrows rose, challenging him now, “I thought you have always said I learned from the best?” Referring to him, naturally.
He let out a lengthy laugh. The tension in his shoulders released seeing you as the same person he thought he lost only a few weeks prior. Even though it had only been a few weeks he knew he could never part from you for that long again. He was a fool and only he came to realize that once you had slipped through his fingertips after getting taken by the Orcs. You didn’t hear his yell for you as he watched you fight. But even you, one of the best Rangers he knew, couldn’t overcome so many of them all at once. And just as he saw you, you had vanished in front of him along with the Hobbits. He had never felt such a failure before seeing you disappear with the creatures you had detested for as long as you’ve been alive.
“I should have never doubted you.” He spoke with that twinkle in his eye. He adored you, through and through. A slow gulp overtook him as he studied you. He always knew you were beautiful, ever since you met him all those years ago. But now, after it took him losing you to realize that he was in love with you, he understood just how stunning you truly were.
You nodded with that confidence he had adored in you, “Aye. Thought you would have learned by now Master Strider.” Tossing him a wink even you did not know where this overly friendly attitude towards your partner was coming from. That’s all he was and could ever be, just a partner in work.
He bowed his head with a similar smirk gracing his face, “Indeed. Forgive me, Y/N. But I was terrified. I thought I had lost you. My thought process was… less than rational.” When his eyes met yours once more a sad smile parted his lips. It hit you that he truly thought he might have actually lost you. Thinking of what you would do had you thought you lost him had you in an instant fit of tears. There would be no rationality in your actions had you thought of Strider dying.
His striking blue eyes sent a familiar shiver down your spine. You gave him a quick nod, “I will always forgive you, my king.”
Strider let out that familiar laugh that you had adored so much. The one that sent a shiver though your body, “It wounds me that you mock me so easily, my Y/N.”
You couldn’t stop your fluttering heart at his words, my Y/N, “I would never do such thing, you are my king, no?” You rose your eyebrows in curiosity. Sure, the news that he was the heir of Isildur took you by surprise. It didn’t shock you completely though. There was always something about him that felt so other worldly. When Legolas let true of his identify at the Council of Elrond it all sort of made sense. You’d been Rangers together for nearly thirty years, both of you being Dunedin it made sense to pair the two of you together early on in your ventures. He had never told you of his true heritage throughout all that time together. While it stung when you learned you understood why he had done so.
“I see you have not lost your tongue.” He avoided your question.
You smiled knowing his usually ways of dodging, “Would you rather they take it?”
But a quick shake of the head let you know he was simply playing, “Never. Your wit is but my favorite thing about you.”
Letting out a feigned gasp you shook your head, “I should be so offended Aragorn.”
“What do you mean?” He looked surprised by your reaction unsure if you were simply messing with him or being completely serious.
“Do you find me that unattractive?” You asked a little too bluntly knowing that you were surly crossing that invisible line the two of you had danced around for far too long.
A fiery blush rose to his cheeks letting you know you had finally gotten the better of him, “Oh no. Never. No. I did not mean it like that. Please…”
You stopped his incoherent rambling with a stifled giggle, “I tease.”
Shaking his head slowly he knew he likely looked a fool standing in front of you. He couldn’t hide it though as all of his emotions came forward seeing you there alive and well. He had begun the process of mourning your death, thinking he’d never see you again. He knew he wanted to tell you exactly how he felt, right here. He wanted to waste no more time. He came to the striking realization that even no matter skilled you or he was life in middle earth was very hostile and unforgiving. The chance of death was high and even higher now that the two of you had joined the Fellowship.
“You are fortunate I care for you very deeply.” He chose his words carefully, hopeful you would pick up on his true meaning.
“Oh?” You heard his words a little surprised. There was not much he could say that took you by surprise but this was one of them that did. He had never so much admitted he cared for you at all let alone deeply in your time together. Strider was very kind to you but the two of you shared a working relationship at most. You weren’t out here letting your tightly bound feelings out and he certainly wasn’t either.
His confidence grew seeing the color rise to your cheeks at his words. You were thinking and hard at it apparently, “That cannot be all you have to say.” He stepped forward knowing that he had the upper hand on you for once. He could never seem to catch you off guard until this very moment.
You sucked in a breath not having a clue where this seemingly innocent interaction was heading. Turning around you spotted the rest of The Fellowship talking to Treebeard far off in the distance. You spun back finding him standing much, much closer than he was before. Eyes widening your head was not making sense of what was actually happening, “I was not expecting you to say that.” It was you deflecting this time which drew an arrogant smirk on the man standing far closer than you were used to. How did he smell so good? Surely he hadn’t bathed in a while. How did Strider do it? Make your mind fuzzier than ever.
He had to look down to meet his eyes with yours, “I never want to spend a day away from you again.”
If your cheeks were not already aflame with realization they were flooding with color now, “You do not?”
It was he who had the courage to make the first move on you after seeing how easily you reacted under his words. He took his hands and brushed away a streak of dirt across your cheek slowly sending your already racing heart into another frenzy, “No, never. These last few weeks have been the worst in my life. Never do I wish to part from you again. If that is what you wish for too.” Ever the man you fell in love with, he left the decision up to you.
It was your turn to be courageous now, “I wish the same.”
His devilish smirk turned into a smile of utmost joy. A smile you so rarely saw on the man. For you knew you didn’t wish to separate from him ever again either. Nearly every moment you were away you thought of him. You thought what he would do in your situation and tried your hardest to stay positive. If it were not for the Hobbits you may have stayed to fight with the Rohirrim when they had saved you from the clutches of the orcs who had you running for days on end. But you knew Strider would save them before fighting on his own, the Hobbits would never survive Gondor on their own. In a way he had saved your life countless times even when he was not there. Strider stayed with you always. You loved him always.
It was then that he realized he had nothing to lose. The way you had looked at him told him exactly what he wanted to know. You had loved him just as dearly as he loved you, “Can I tell you something?”
A nod came from you, “Anything.”
It was now or never and he wasn’t planning on missing his chance, “I love you.”
You could not help the way your mouth dropped at that, “You what?”
“I love you.” He said again with more confidence. He loved you and he couldn’t keep it from you anymore. Strider also knew that things would never go back to normal after this quest. His true identity was revealed. Things would change. As much as he longed to go back to the simple life of patrolling the woods with you he knew that’d never be in his cards any longer. And if his life was going to change he wanted to bring the one thing that brought him comfort along for the journey as well. If he were to be king he wanted you to be his queen. No, needed you to be his queen. For a majority of his success came from you being there with him helping and guiding him.
“You love me?” You asked more to yourself than to him. When he placed his hands on your shoulders with a gentle touch you knew you were a goner. The look in his eyes was like nothing like you had seen from him, “Why me? We’ve been partners for over thirty years and… where is this coming from?”
He stopped your racing mind by running his thumb along your lower lip, ever the intimate action sending your speeding heard into overdrive, “I’ve always known. But losing you… thinking you died. It all but made me realize how daft it is to hide it away when I can tell you outright when clearly you feel the same. Am I wrong?” He smiled as he held the back of your head in his hand so gently.
“No. Certainly not wrong.” You spoke in a soft whisper. When he smiled even brighter than you had truly ever seen you had to tell him too. You’d all but implied the same feelings but you needed to let it out too, “I love you too.”
The next moments felt like a blur. He pulled you close before whispering in your ear, “The next time the nosy prince of Mirkwood is not watching I will give you a proper kiss, my lady.” It was the first time he’d called you that in all your time knowing him. A rush of warmth was felt throughout your body. It felt… right. Like you were meant to be at his side.
Once he released you from the hold he had you in you turned your head over your shoulder spotting the blonde-haired elf sitting on his horse paying much more attention to the two of you rather than whatever tale Treebeard was telling the new group.
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you over the absurdity of the situation. Of all the things you thought could happen today confessing your love to the man who had you enraptured ever since you met him was the last thing you thought possible. Yet here you were. Avoiding the ever-clear eyes of your elven friend, “Damn elves.”
He nodded in agreement, “Come on, hop on.” He led you to his horse where he got you situated before he got on behind you. Slowly, he led you back to the group. You caught Legolas’ side eye knowing the he had to have heard a majority of the conversation if he wanted too. And knowing him, he wanted too.
When Strider’s horse stopped he made sure to keep his hand on you, uncaring of the curious stares from the rest of the group. He loved you. They knew it. Why should he have to hide it any further? Finally, it felt like something in this journey made sense. All he had to do now was keep you safe and destroy the ring. Simple, right?
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Summary: Request - Second, could you write a reader x Legolas where after the two grew close on their journey w/ the fellowship, Legolas (and eventually the rest) noticed how the reader would look at Legolas whenever the two were together/talked... Read Rest Here
A/N: I love sweet boy Legolas. Really like how this one turned out. Let me know how you like it :)
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.4k +
TW: Insecurity, Slight angst, Pure fluff? No LOTR triggers
The journey of the Fellowship was one fraught with danger and uncertainty yet amidst it all, a tender bond began to blossom between you and Legolas. Gandalf had brought you along as the healer, but it was Legolas who captured your attention with his ethereal grace and unwavering kindness towards you. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt a pull towards Legolas that you couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was the way his eyes sparkled like sunlight filtering through the trees, or the gentle softness of his voice as he spoke of the wonders of middle earth. Whatever it was, you found yourself drawn to him more and more every day.
At first, Legolas treated you with the same courtesy he extended to all members of the Fellowship. Yet, as the days passed, and your interactions became more frequent he couldn't help but feel a stirring in his heart whenever you were near. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a newfound depth to his feelings that he hadn't realized before. As the days turned into weeks the subtle shift in dynamics within the Fellowship did not go unnoticed by the other members. Aragorn with his keen perception honed by years of ranging across Middle earth was among the first to pick up on the blossoming affection between you and Legolas. He observed the lingering gazes, the gentle touches, and the shared smiles that passed between you. Though he said nothing, a knowing look passed between him and Boromir whenever your eyes met.
Gimli, ever the gruff but good-hearted dwarf couldn't resist teasing Legolas about his newfound fondness for the human healer. "I see you've taken quite a liking to our healer, Master Elf," he remarked one evening with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. Legolas merely responded with a raised eyebrow and a secretive smile, neither confirming nor denying Gimli's suspicions.
Even Boromir, burdened with the weight of his own quest and the responsibility of protecting the hobbits couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Legolas' demeanor whenever you were near. He observed the way Legolas would seek out your company during their brief respites. For you there was a softness in his eyes that betrayed his usual stoic gaze.
Yet, it was the hobbits who truly brought the matter to light as their curious natures were unable to resist the opportunity for a bit of mischief. Merry and Pippin in particular took it upon themselves to play matchmakers. Much to the amusement of the rest of the Fellowship sans you and Legolas.
"I say, Pippin, have you noticed the way Y/N looks at Legolas?" Merry whispered conspiratorially one evening as they huddled around the campfire. The two of you were lost in conversation. So much so that Legolas wasn’t even paying attention to the comments around him. His focus was solely on you.
Pippin, his eyes wide with excitement, nodded eagerly. "Aye, Merry, it's as plain as the nose on Gandalf's face! She's smitten, that's for certain." Earning the laughter of the hobbits at that remark and a smack on the back of the head from Gandalf.
Armed with their newfound knowledge, the hobbits embarked on their mission to uncover the truth. And though Legolas and you remained oblivious to their antics, the spark of romance that had ignited between you could not be denied. Sam and Frodo, ever the loyal and steadfast companions watched the unfolding dynamic between you and Legolas with a mixture of amusement and quiet support. While they appreciated Merry and Pippin's enthusiasm they also understood the delicate nature of romance amidst the perils of their quest.
At first, Sam and Frodo exchanged knowing glances whenever Merry, and Pippin attempted to prod you or Legolas about your feelings. However, as the hobbits' antics grew more persistent they decided it was time to intervene albeit in their own subtle way. "Perhaps it's best to let them be, Merry," Sam murmured one evening as they watched you and Legolas share a quiet moment by the fire. "Love has a way of finding its own path after all."
Frodo nodded in agreement. His gaze thoughtful. "Indeed, Sam. And if Legolas and Y/N are meant to be, then nothing we say or do will change that." While Merry and Pippin continued their matchmaking schemes with gusto, Sam and Frodo opted for a more hands-off approach. They were content to watch the budding romance between you and Legolas unfold organically.
Gandalf the wise and enigmatic wizard, had a keen intuition that often surpassed the understanding of those around him. When he insisted on bringing you along as the healer for the Fellowship he did so with a subtle knowledge of the bonds that would form among its members. This included the burgeoning connection between you and Legolas. Though Gandalf didn't overtly push you towards Legolas, his gentle guidance and sage advice often served as a catalyst for self-discovery. He recognized the spark of potential between you and Legolas, understanding that love knew no boundaries, not even those between different races.
In quiet moments by the campfire or during their long marches across middle earth, Gandalf would offer words of wisdom and encouragement as he nudged you towards introspection and self-awareness. Through his guidance you began to unravel the complexities of your own heart slowly coming to terms with the depth of your feelings for Legolas. It was during one such conversation with Gandalf that the truth finally dawned on you. As you confided in him about your confusion and uncertainty regarding your growing affection for Legolas, Gandalf listened patiently, his eyes twinkling with a knowing light.
"My dear Y/N, love is a powerful force that transcends race and circumstance," Gandalf said, his voice gentle yet firm. "Do not shy away from the feelings that stir within you. Embrace them, for they may lead you towards a happiness beyond your wildest dreams."
And as you gazed into Gandalf's wise eyes, a sense of clarity washed over you as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. In that moment you understood that your feelings for Legolas were not a mere fleeting fancy, but a deep and profound connection that had blossomed amidst the trials and tribulations of your journey.
As the days stretched into weeks and the Fellowship journeyed through the untamed landscapes of middle earth Legolas found himself increasingly drawn to your side. There was an undeniable magnetism between the two of you. A pull that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He savored the moments when you tended to his wounds, relishing in the gentle touch of your hands against his skin. There was a soothing quality to your presence. A warmth that seeped into his bones and chased away the shadows of doubt that lingered in his heart.
Yet, it wasn't just your healing abilities that captivated Legolas. It was the way you listened intently as he spoke of his homeland, your eyes alight with genuine interest and curiosity. In your company he felt understood in a way he never had before as if you saw beyond the facade of the stoic elf prince into the depths of his soul. And as he watched you laugh and joke with the hobbits a soft smile tugged at the corners of Legolas' lips. There was a lightness to your presence that filled him with a sense of joy he hadn't felt in ages. It was a feeling that he couldn't quite put into words.
It was during one such quiet moment by the campfire that Legolas finally admitted the truth to himself. As he watched you interact with the hobbits a surge of warmth washed over him igniting a fire within his chest that he couldn't ignore any longer. It was then that he realized he wanted more than just friendship with you; he wanted to explore the depths of this newfound connection, to see where it could lead.
As the night settled around the campfire, casting its warm glow upon the Fellowship. Merry and Pippin seized the opportunity to indulge in their mischievous tendencies. With conspiratorial grins and playful nudges, they pulled you aside, their eyes dancing with excitement. "Alright, Y/N, spill the beans," Merry said with a lopsided grin, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "What's going on between you and Legolas?"
You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by their sudden interrogation. "I... I don't know what you mean," you stammered, your cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment.
Pippin chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Oh, come on now, Y/N. You can't fool us! We've seen the way you look at him."
Your heart skipped a beat as you fumbled for a response, desperately trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn't reveal the true depth of your feelings. "I... uh...I just...admire his...hair," you finally blurted out, the words sounding feeble even to your own ears.
Merry and Pippin exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter, their mirth echoing through the quiet night air. "His hair?" Merry exclaimed between bouts of laughter. "Is that all?"
Pippin nodded, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Oh, Y/N, you really are something else."
You couldn't help but join in their laughter, though a part of you cringed at the absurdity of your own words. How could you have been so foolish as to think that admiring Legolas' hair would suffice as an explanation for the complex emotions swirling within you?
And as you glanced across the campfire to see Legolas with his back turned to you chatting with Boromir did a sheepish smile playing on your lips. You couldn't help but wonder what he must think of your clumsy attempt at deflecting the truth. Little did you know, he had overheard the entire exchange. His own heart swelling with affection at the realization that your feelings for him ran deeper than mere admiration for his hair.
As the laughter subsided and the hobbits' playful teasing continued, you found yourself squirming under their scrutiny. Merry and Pippin exchanged knowing glances, their mischievous smiles widening as they prodded you further.
"Come now, Y/N, there's no need to be shy," Merry teased, nudging you with his elbow. "We all know there's more to it than just his hair."
You sighed, feeling the weight of their relentless questioning pressing down on you. "Alright, fine," you admitted reluctantly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Maybe I... maybe I do like him."
Merry and Pippin exchanged triumphant looks, their grins widening into smirks as they teased you mercilessly. "Ha! We knew it!" Pippin exclaimed with a grin. "You fancy the elf prince!"
You flushed even deeper feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading through your entire being. "It's not like that," you protested weakly though the truth of your feelings hung heavy in the air.
But beneath their teasing, there was a genuine warmth in Merry and Pippin's eyes, a silent reassurance that they meant no harm. And yet despite their best intentions a seed of doubt had already taken root in your mind. Why would an Elven prince like Legolas with his ethereal beauty and noble lineage ever be interested in a lowly healer from Eriador? It seemed like a fantasy too far-fetched to even entertain. It was a cruel trick of fate that mocked your deepest desires.
The hobbits noticed the shift in your demeanor, their playful teasing softened into genuine concern. Merry and Pippin exchanged worried glances, their smiles fading as they realized the depth of your insecurity. "Hey, Y/N, what's wrong?" Pippen asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Did we go too far with the teasing?"
You shook your head, trying to force a smile despite the heavy weight of doubt pressing down on your chest. "No, it's not that," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just...I can't get my hopes up, you know? Legolas is an Elven prince, and I'm just a lowly human from Eriador. He could never feel the same way about me."
Merry’s eyes widened with understanding. His expression filled with empathy. "Oh, Y/N, don't say that," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "You're worth more than you know. Legolas sees something special in you, I'm sure of it."
But your heart felt heavy with doubt, the weight of centuries of tradition and prejudice bearing down on your shoulders. How could you ever hope to compete with the storied history and timeless beauty of the elves? It seemed like a fool's errand. A futile pursuit that would only end in heartbreak. As you poured out your heart to Merry and Pippin, unaware of Legolas' keen ears tuned in to your conversation the Elven prince's own heart ached with a bittersweet mixture of longing and sadness.
Though he had overheard snippets of your conversation with the hobbits, it wasn't until now that the full extent of your insecurities became painfully clear to him. As he turned away from his conversation with Aragorn, his attention fully captured by your words. A pang of empathy pierced through his chest. To hear you speak of yourself with such self-doubt and resignation broke Legolas' heart in ways he couldn't fully articulate. How could you not see the radiant light that shone within you? the kindness and strength that had endeared you to him from the very beginning?
Legolas felt a fierce determination ignite within him. A resolve to show you just how extraordinary you truly were. He longed to sweep away the shadows of doubt that clouded your mind and to replace them with the unshakeable belief in your own worth that you so rightfully deserved.
With a silent vow in his heart, Legolas turned his gaze back to the campfire. His mind ablaze with thoughts of how he could show you the depth of his feelings and the true beauty that lay within your heart As Legolas listened intently to your conversation with Merry and Pippin his heart swelled with a mixture of sadness and determination. He couldn't help but feel the weight of their shared concern for you.
Across the campfire, Merry and Pippin exchanged knowing glances. Their expressions filled with a silent plea for Legolas to intervene. With a subtle nod and a meaningful look they motioned for him to join them, hoping that he could offer you the reassurance and support you so desperately needed.
Legolas met their gazes with silent understanding. His resolve strengthening with each passing moment. With a graceful movement he rose from his seat by the fire. His footsteps were light as he made his way towards you. He was careful not to draw attention to himself.
As he approached Merry and Pippin stepped aside, their eyes flickering with a silent message that Legolas understood all too well. With a grateful nod he took their place by your side, his presence a comforting presence in the midst of your turmoil. Though you remained unaware of his silent exchange with Merry and Pippin, Legolas couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards the hobbits for their unwavering loyalty and support. And as he settled in beside you his gaze met yours with a tenderness that took your breath away
“Y/N,” he began, his tone gentle as a whisper of the wind through the trees, "I couldn't help but notice that something seems to be troubling you.."
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the realization that Legolas had sensed your inner turmoil and you couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness. "I'm sorry, Legolas," you murmured, your gaze flickering away from his intense gaze. "I don’t mean to burden you with my concerns."
But Legolas reached out to gently tilt your chin upwards, his touch sending a flutter of warmth through your chest. "No need to apologize, mellon-nîn," he said, his voice filled with a tenderness that melted away your fears. "I want you to know that you are worth more than you could ever imagine."
Your heart swelled with gratitude at his words, a flicker of hope igniting within you as you met his gaze. "That is kind of you to say." you whispered, unable to contain the doubt that still lingered in your heart. "But I'm just a human healer, and you're... you're an Elven prince. In another life we would never have even crossed paths.”
Legolas smiled with a softness in his eyes that spoke of a depth of feeling you had never known before. "We do not choose who we were born to," he said, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with a quiet intensity, "you are kind, and brave, and full of a light that shines brighter than any star in the sky."
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest at the sincerity in his gaze. As you looked into his eyes, you felt a flicker of something stirring deep within you. A longing that you couldn't quite name.
"But," he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "if it's my hair that has caught your fancy, I must say, I've spent centuries perfecting it."
As Legolas spoke, his words carrying a playful yet genuine warmth, your mouth dropped open in realization. A blush flooded your cheeks as you processed his teasing remark, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment washing over you. How could you have forgotten that Legolas possessed such keen perception, his senses far surpassing your own?
Feeling a sudden urge to hide away from him, to shield yourself from the intensity of his gaze, you instinctively turned away. Your gaze fixed on the flickering flames of the campfire. It was easy to forget that Legolas was not just a companion but an elf prince with abilities and perceptions far beyond your own. Even as you sought to hide your embarrassment you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at Legolas' playful teasing. There was a familiarity in his words, a shared moment of levity amidst the weight of your doubts and insecurities.
As Legolas noticed your sudden shyness a playful yet tender smile graced his lips. "Don't hide away from me," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that enveloped you like a comforting embrace. "If it makes you feel any better, I quite like your hair too. In fact, I like so much about you..."
You turned back to him, your heart racing with a mixture of apprehension and hope. "You do?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of surprise in your voice.
Legolas nodded. His gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. "Yes," he said, his voice steady and sincere. "I've admired you from the moment we met. Your kindness, your bravery, your unwavering spirit... They've all captured my heart."
Your breath caught in your throat at his confession, a rush of emotion swelling within you. "Legolas..." you whispered, your voice filled with awe and disbelief.
He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I know that our paths may be uncertain, and the road ahead may be fraught with danger," he continued, his gaze soft yet determined. "But I want you to know that my feelings for you are anything but uncertain. I care for you deeply, Y/N. I want nothing more than to explore this connection between us."
Tears welled up in your eyes at his heartfelt words. A sense of overwhelming joy flooding your heart. "I... I feel the same way," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
As Legolas leaned in closer, a tender smile gracing his lips he pressed a soft kiss against your cheek. It was a gentle lingering touch that spoke volumes. A silent promise of the love and affection that lay between you. Feeling the warmth of his lips against your skin sent a rush of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It was a sensation that felt like the soft caress of a summer breeze. You closed your eyes savoring the moment. You let yourself feel the depth of his emotions conveyed in that simple gesture.
And as Legolas wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a comforting embrace, you nestled into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. In that embrace, surrounded by the soft glow of the campfire and the tranquil beauty of the night, you felt a profound sense of peace wash over you letting you know that everything would be quite alright.
