The fucking elf of my dreams
Pairing: Finrod x GN Reader
Genre: Spyverse
Summary: You have been dreaming of an obnoxious elf and Finrod Felagund of Arda has been hearing an exasperated voice in his mind.
AN: This was so fun :))) hapi hapi hapi (Based on a poll long ago where @a-contemplation-upon-flowers suggested this-)
The elf in your dreams is an idiot. Trusting any moving thing, unable to shut up when needed, and piss poor disguises," he was annoying to the point of exhaustion.
You had, on several occasions, resorted to screaming sense into him, but the elf in your dreams seemed to be completely oblivious, if not averse to your words.
How did these weird dreams come to be? You have no fucking idea. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind after messing around for so long.
Finrod heard noises in his head. A loud screaming voice that he has come to name his conscience.
"Fuck can you shut up," The voice sighed in exhaustion almost. "Let the other blondie deal with it man," the voice muttered clearly talking about Angrod.
Standing before Thingol, Finrod ignores the voice and narrates the truth that had conspired on the shores of Alqualonde. The voice sighs, and Finrod barely conceals his wince as a string of curses echo in his mind.
And for days after that, the voice is quiet. Almost sulking. which is better than Angrod, who is throwing dirty looks his way.
Looking at the bleary-eyed men, you could see the awe in their eyes had you not witnessed the authentic Finrod Felagund for past years, you might have felt the same.
"Bro, that's freaky stop," you fail to look away from the scene of your dreamy elf sitting there and putting on a whole ass musical from a bunch of sleeping people.
Did he really think he was a Disney princess or something? The music is cool and all, but for godsake, Finrod is random AF.
It doesn't take long for the golden retriever to make friends with men. And yes, you do lecture him over the panic attack over discovering men sleeping with eyes closed.
"Build some weaponry for goodness," you mutter as you see Finrod lug another treasure chest full of his gems. "You can't fight with your pretty headpieces," the elf as usual ignored you, and at this point, you would have thought that he could not hear your rambling if not for the slight tremor of laughter in his body whenever you so much as uttered a word.
The King of Nargothrond prepares for another onslaught of curses as he senses Beor's heavy footsteps coming his way.
"Are you for real?" You huff in annoyance. "Why not accumulate an entire empire in the secret city? Just why..." The voice groans.
Perhaps Finrod would have been offended at your treatment of his dear friend if not for the coying fragrance of envy that seems to accompany your complaints.
"You sleep a lot these days..." Your partner, Jack was looking down at you from where you lay on the couch. Even upside down you could see the amused glimmer in his eyes.
You were indeed sleeping a lot. Napping when you could. All to witness the obnoxious elf in your dreams.
You had just woken up from another one. One where another man with a familiar emerald ring showed up with a favor to ask of your elf.
And shit was going down. That idiot.
Lifting the corners of your lips in a smile you conceal the anxiety that the supposedly relaxing nap had built in your system. "Maybe because I am pregnant with your child."
A cushion lands on your face, followed by a vase.
Jack clearly did not appreciate your humor. Not as the elf in your dreams did.
"Target the maw, it is the only vulnerable spot you can aim for" he hears it. The voice is back.
"The day we meet Finrod Felagund, I shall bind you to me, you are not to wander the face of this world alone. Not for your own good."
You do not look away. You witness every second of the elf of your dreams breaking apart in the dark halls of villains you cannot protect him from.
His nimble fingers grasp on the beast's fur with a force, you've never seen him exhibit. And then he rips the monster apart with his bare hands.
By the end of the fight, there are punctured wounds in his body, blood covers the cold hard floor your elf lay panting on. His companions are long dead. The man is gone. He is alone. Dying.
You weren't a stranger to death, you have delivered many to its door. You've almost met yours a dozen times. But his death is the most unnatural shit you have witnessed.
Sitting cross-legged by his cooling body you continue talking as you have done for decades."That day, you, Finrod Felagund will answer all my questions and obey all my commands." For the first time, Finrod sees the faint outline of your features before his vision fades into the dark and his fea floats in the sea of oblivion.
That night you wake up drenched in sweat, almost choking on your vomit. Fuck Felagund, you wipe the annoying tears streaming down your face.
Your death is swift. Finrod barely makes it to his dream before he watches you crumble as a sharp piece of metal embeds itself in your head.
Your eyes never meet his, given that you are not aware of his presence. Your legs falter and in a fleeting moment, you plop down on the unforgivingly unyielding ground.
You are the voice. Ever since his rebirth in Valinor, he had dreamt of you. Unlike you, he has kept you in the dark about his presence.
His life is different from yours. Your hands are full of blood of men, he does not know about.
After years of watching you, Finrod has come to know you as the master of disguise. He has witnessed your battle cries as you assassinate men of power.
And on frigid nights as you sit nursing a glass of wine, Finrod has found his name scribbled on a piece of paper. In those moments, when you are alone, Finrod barely clings to the silence of his choice.
After all, what does he, Finrod Felagund owe you?
That is the case, until the streets of Tirion brim with hushed whispers. Until Tulkas' Maiar are seen looking around the markets. Maiar of Mandos following them with anxious frowns upon their foreheads. Until he bumps into a hooded figure.
A small fall that he gets up to apologize for only for him to freeze hearing the familiar notes of "fuck," muttered in a voice he remembers.
