so glad you’re back! 🤭 I just rewatched all three extended editions of lotr in a day with some friends and every time Aragorn was on screen I just👹👹—UGHHHHHH WHY CAN’T HE BE REALLLL 😭😭
this is such a boring and specific thing but imagine how the fellowship would react to seeing you with a bunch of hickeys from him lmao
like you’d bend over to grab something on the ground, and your clothing would shift to reveal marks on your hips, or tying your hair in a braid would show the ones on your neck. You wouldn’t even notice, but the fellowship would just collectively glance and you….and then slowly turn to Aragorn, who’s just standing there like a deer in headlights. I can picture Merry and Pippin just snickering to themselves and Aragorn sending them an absolute death glare.
Legolas, contrary to everyone else, would not be surprised in the slightest because….elven hearing ofc 💀
anyways, hope you’re doing wonderfully 🤗
-💛
Oh my god this idea is so cute i just had to do something with it
LOTR | Fellowship seeing the hickeys Aragorn left on you
{LOTR Masterlist}
gn reader
Requests for reactions/drabbles/headcanons always open~
Content warning: hickeys/love bites, suggestive language, LOTS of teasing
This would be such an insane situation
Aragorn, the stoic, leading man, being caught out like that would give everyone the entertainment that they so desperately need along the rough journey to Mordor
You'd had a night together away from camp after a few days of not catching alone time
You'd noticed that Aragorn was a bit more clingy than usual; mouth lingering on your bare skin and hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips and waist quite roughly
It was hot, seeing him so desperate and needy, and seeing him like that left you distracted from the giant purple marks he was leaving in his wake
So when you went to reach for your coat hanging on a nearby tree the next morning, causing your linen shirt to lift slightly, you heard a small gasp behind you
"Y/N?! What happened to- *squints* -your side?" Pippin exclaimed as he rushed over to you
The caring little hobbit he is made your heart skip a beat
But once you glanced down and realised what it was he was fretting over, your face went beet red
Boromir nearby glanced over at Pippin's cry, only for a deep grin to spread across his face
He let out a low laugh and eyed Aragorn, not far away, who looked like a deer in headlights
"A rough night for you two, perhaps?"
"Oh, shove it, Boromir," you croaked out, embarrassed from becoming the spectacle
Pippin only tries to bring it up again later, only showing concern for you, especially after spotting more on your neck while you flicked your hair back
But Merry smacks his head and shushes him in an attempt to not embarrass you
Gimli found it SO amusing
When he caught a glimpse of it on your lower neck, he squinted at you, trying to remember when you got hurt in battle
But when he realises, booming laughter erupts from him
Which earns him a glove thrown at him from Aragorn
"Strider, you're a man of many talents, but I wouldn't have wagered a coin on that one."
The rest of the hobbits were all similar, not wanting to embarrass you
Frodo turns as red as you did when he realises, as he just could not imagine Strider in that light
But from Sam? It earned you guys a lecture
He embarrasses the FUCK out of Aragorn by telling him he needs to be careful where he is biting you, and he needs to lay off the bruises
Making Aragorn want to crawl into a hole
But Legolas was the only one to not mention anything
And Boromir, becoming bored and hoping to gossip, brings it up to him
"Did you see the brutal wounds our king left on them?" he whispers to the elf randomly
Legolas gives him a blank stare, eyes unblinking
"See them? Boromir, I do not need to see. I was made thoroughly aware of them last night."
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
ISTP
Hufflepuff
Lawful Good
Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Virgo Rising
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
・Being married to Aragorn would include...being loved until death and then beyond.
・The love you share for each other is eternal. Unending. Unyielding.
・There is no such thing as disloyalty with Aragorn, not even the slightest worry of it. In his mind, he belongs utterly and completely to you.
・You have his heart.
・And when you first met, your heart was beating so fast you were worried he could hear it.
・But his heart was mirroring yours.
・Aragorn is a man who does not do things lightly. He always lives up to his promises.
・And when he says, "I love you," you know the truth of it in your bones.
・Being married to Aragorn also means you hold a lot of responsibility in your own hands.
・People look to both of you for guidance, advice and most of all, hope.
・You've also become close with those from the Fellowship as Aragorn invites them to Minas Tirith and Annúminas.
・Merry and Pippin have taken a particular like to you...with Pippin forming a slight crush...
・Legolas does like to visit more often. And Gimli is never far behind.
・With your husband as the first High King of the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor, he is often doing very important Kingly duties.
・What you didn't expect, was that Aragorn wanted your opinion in these matters. And not just behind closed doors, but in the moment.
・You are present during the meetings, your ideas and solutions are listened to and revered. (Not just by Aragorn, but the people as well.) You are loved throughout the kingdoms.
・When it is night and you are alone with your husband, you've noticed that he hums. And sometimes, without realising it, he'll sing.
・It always puts a smile on your face.
・When it's time for bed, you've both started this tradition when you tell each other the highlight of the day.
・And even though he doesn't snore, Aragorn does have very vivid dreams & nightmares.
・Some nights you've found him staring out over the land. His arms leaning against the railing. His hair moving with the wind.
・It's those times that you get out of bed and wrap your arms around him. Helping the nightmares to shed from his mind.
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Sun (Aragorn) x Moon (You)
The Navigator (Aragorn) and The North Star (You)
Places You Above Anything And Everyone Else. You Are His World.
"You Wear The Pants In This Relationship" (You) x "Oh I Wish, I Cannot Control You At All" (Aragorn)
𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Slow Burn to Unshakeable Devotion
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Turning Page by Sleeping at Last
Scotland by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra
Romantic Flight by John Powell
𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞
・When it comes to your pleasure, Aragorn does so with complete and utter devotion.
・His hands touch you as if you're going to disappear. As if you are the only thing that matters.
・He is in constant awe of you. A creature such as yourself...he cannot fathom that you are his...all his.
・The first night you lay together as a married couple will always be burnt into your memory.
・Aragorn had gently laid you on the bed. Undressing you slowly, adoringly.
・When you were laid bare, his heart nearly stopped. With a nod of approval from you, Aragorn had brought you pleasure unlike anything you knew
・Because it was all about you, and your joining.
・His large hands cupped and soothed, holding you close as his cock pumped in and out of you.
・Forehead pressed against your own.
・Moans echoing from his now shared chamber.
・It took you a while to get used to the size and length of his cock. Though he isn't obscenely large, you can feel him inside you. Your always stuffed full. Cum leaking from your hole when he's finished.
・He never wants to leave you unsatisfied. So, Aragorn makes sure you've came once from his fingers, then from his mouth and finally from his cock.
an: excerpt from a story I haven't written yet- for context Reader has been travelling with Strider for a few weeks or months at this point after meeting accidentally in Bree and they have grown slowly closer. tl;dr I want to snuggle with aragorn
The branches of the old oak tree bent low and brushed the earth with each passing wind. Huddled beneath it, you felt almost hidden from the outside world. You focused on slowing your breath, trying to match it to the steady inhales of the man beside you. He seemed unbothered by the cold while you were wrapped in all the clothing you had packed, still shivering.
You knew him only as Strider. He had seemed impenetrable when first you saw him in the dim corners of the inn, then miraculous when he joined your journey as guide and unlikely friend. Over long days and nights spent on the Road (and sometimes hidden beside it), you had found yourself drawn to his strength and kindness.
A stirring of leaves made you tense, senses straining toward the sound. But it was only a fox, casting a judgmental glance your way as it picked its way gingerly to the east.
A low huff of laughter brushed your hair as Strider shifted. You could feel the warmth of his body at your back, close but not quite touching. You wanted to lean back and close the distance. He seemed to think the same thing, for you suddenly felt the press of strong arms against your waist.
Strider gently drew you into his embrace, leaning back as he did so you both rested against the trunk of the tree. He tipped your chin up with two fingers, pointing your gaze to a spray of shrubbery on the topmost branches. Light green leaves spread thickly around a core of small white berries.
"What is it?" You asked, voice low. You didn't want to break the moment, whatever it was. Your skin tingled where his rough fingertips brushed. His heat drove out the cold that had spread through your bones, as surely as if you had laid beside a fire.
"The plant is called mistletoe," he answered. "That is the name Rangers use in these parts of the North."
You waited for more, knowing Strider did not waste his words. He let his hand fall away from your chin and you missed it immediately.
"There are traditions associated with this plant, most forgotten now. Doings that are not of valor or war-making fade quickly from the memories of Men."
You softened against him in silent answer. Strider kept his history close to his chest, and you eagerly collected each scrap he shared. "I would hear them," you offered.
His thumb brushed against your waist in a soothing, almost unconscious motion. You struggled not to react, though sparks danced along your spine. He felt firm as a mountain around you, protective and ancient.
“They are romantic traditions.” His voice dropped to the melodic register of storytelling.
“Some hang it in the home for peace, others hope it will bring children to their union. The stories grow and take on the wishes of the teller. But the most common is this- if two people find themselves beneath a bough laden with mistletoe they must exchange affections.” He paused to gauge your reaction. The Ranger’s senses fixed on you- too perceptive.
“Your heart beats like a hare’s.” Though his face was hidden behind your shoulder you could hear his smile, could almost see the crow’s feet deepening at the corner of his eyes.
You said nothing, staring up at the mistletoe, heavy now with promise. Gathering courage, you placed your hand over his where it rested on your hip, light enough to deny.
“Does Strider follow the old customs?”
“He would, if fate offered him the choice.”
“The two beneath the mistletoe. What affections might they exchange?” You asked.
“Curious little hare,” he murmured against your ear.
Strider cupped your cheek in his palm and turned your face to his. You let him guide you, twisting back to meet him. His cloak fell back and you tried to ignore the smell of moss and leather, the faint hint of crushed herbs that rose from the nearness of him.
“May I show you?” He spoke evenly, waiting patiently, but something had kindled in the depths of his gaze.
“Please.”
Strider drew your face nearer. Time stretched around you within the confines of the oak, as if you had slipped beneath a stream. You took it all in pieces- his eyelids shut, stubble shadowed on his jaw, the briefest tremble in his full lips, firm hands at your cheek and waist.
Then Strider kissed the corner of your mouth. Light as a feather falling on elf-grass, gentle and wistful as morning mist. Softness overwhelmed you, and warmth. It was over as soon as it had begun, and he was already pulling back to study your face.
He read your flushing cheeks and quickened breath, your eyes wide and wanting in the dappled light.
“The tradition is old, and maybe foolish,” he continued as if the story hadn’t been interrupted. “But in the bitterness of winter it is wise to take comfort where it can be found.”
“It is wise indeed.” You still felt the ghost of his lips against his mouth, and it made you bold. “These woods are cold, Strider.”
You gathered the edges of his cloak in your fist and drew them around your shoulders, cocooning you against him beneath the rough fabric. “If fate has placed us beneath the mistletoe I would feign accept it.”
His smile melted the last vestiges of winter. Spring seemed to blossom beneath the oak, no further than where you sat tangled in its shadow. Strider inclined his head. “I will take my lady’s counsel.”
He slid his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck, holding you steady. It was you who closed the distance now, meeting his lips square and firm. Strider laughed into your mouth before he kissed you back. If the first kiss was a breeze, the second was a gale.
You could not have measured the time that passed in Strider’s arms, nor the sweetness of the meeting. It was enough to melt there beside him, hidden from darkness and the cold, cloaked in his warmth.
Summary: Request - During the war with Sauron, she gets kidnapped and tortured badly by Saruman. Aragorn and the others immediately get on a mission to rescue her and eventually find her barely alive... Read Rest Here
A/N: This was tough to write but I really like how it turned out. Thank you for the amazing requests anon, hope you all enjoy!
Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader
Word Count: 4,600 +
TW: talks of torture, pain, reader gets taken, general LOTR triggers
In the middle of the raging war against Sauron you found yourself drawn to the Fellowship not only by fate but by your own unique blend of skills and qualities that made you an indispensable member of the group. Aragorn quickly recognized your unwavering loyalty and the depth of your courage. He insisted on your inclusion in the Fellowship. He saw in you a kindred spirit as someone who shared his determination to see the quest through to the end.
Your skills were varied and essential to the success of the Fellowship. As a seasoned fighter you were proficient in various forms of combat. You sported weapons with precision and grace. But it wasn't just your prowess on the battlefield that set you apart. It was also your keen intellect and quick thinking that made you invaluable to the group. You possessed a sharp mind and a strategic approach to problem-solving, often providing crucial insights and solutions during moments of peril. Even Legolas looked to you for guidance from time to time.
Gimli was initially skeptical of your presence in the Fellowship. But even he soon came to appreciate the depth of your skills and the strength of your character. Your friendship with him grew as you shared stories of battles fought and victories won. You formed a bond that transcended the differences between your races. Together you and Gimli formed a formidable duo. Your strengths complementing each other in ways that made the Fellowship stronger as a whole.
With Legolas, your relationship was characterized by playful banter and teasing exchanges. From the moment you met there was a natural rapport between you. It was like a shared understanding that lent itself to lighthearted jests and witty banter. Legolas never missed an opportunity to tease you. His playful remarks eliciting laughter and smiles even in the darkest of times. Despite the teasing there was a deep form of friendship between you. Formed through shared experiences and mutual respect. He loved to tease you, especially about a certain ranger that had captured your heart with ease. It was on one particular eve that Legolas had let you know that he knew too. He wasn’t blind. He caught your longing looks. But he too caught Aragorn staring right back at you.
The evening was alive with the crackling of the campfire and the soft rustle of the forest around you. As you sat beside the fire completely lost in thought, Legolas approached with his characteristic grace, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Ah, Y/N, lost in thought again?" he remarked. A teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. And he likely did.
You chuckled softly turning to face him. "Just contemplating our next move," you replied, though your thoughts were anything but focused on strategy. Instead, they drifted to a certain ranger sitting across the way who occupied far too much space in your mind.
Legolas arched an eyebrow, his keen gaze fixing on you with knowing amusement. "Or perhaps," he suggested with a knowing smirk, "you're pondering a particular king’s pining for you?"
Your cheeks flushed crimson at his words, and you sputtered in protest. "Wha—no, Legolas, you're imagining things," you stammered. It was a terrible attempt to brush off his teasing with a nervous laugh.
But Legolas only chuckled. His soft laughter mingling with the gentle crackle of the fire. "Oh, come now, Y/N,” he teased, his tone light and playful. "Even the trees can see the way he looks at you. And you him. It's as clear as the stars in the night sky."
You rolled your eyes. Though a part of you couldn't help but wonder if there was a kernel of truth to Legolas's jests. Aragorn's lingering glances and subtle gestures had not gone unnoticed by you. Though you had dismissed them as mere figments of your imagination. "He's just... concerned for my well-being, that's all," you insisted, though doubt lingered in the back of your mind. "We're friends, nothing more."
Legolas's smile widened as his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Of course, Y/N," he replied. His tone dripping with elvish sarcasm. "Just friends."
As he walked away quiet as ever leaving you to figure out you conflicting emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was more truth to Legolas's teasing than you dared to admit. But for now, you pushed aside your doubts instead focusing on the task at hand and the challenges that lay ahead. You couldn’t let that distract you of all things. You had Hobbits to find after all.
As for Aragorn, the dynamics of your relationship were markedly different. From the moment he laid eyes on you Aragorn was captivated by your strength, courage, and insane determination. He found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn't fully explain. His heart skipping a beat whenever you were near. Despite his stoic demeanor Aragorn found himself unable to hide his feelings for you. His affection and admiration shining through in subtle gestures and meaningful glances. Whether it was a reassuring touch on the shoulder or a lingering gaze across the campfire Aragorn's love for you was evident to all who knew him. Maybe except for you.
And though you tried to hide it, the effect he had on you was undeniable. Your cheeks would flush with color whenever he spoke. Your heart deciding to skip a beat at the mere sound of his voice. Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure Aragorn had a way of unraveling your defenses. His presence stirring emotions within you that you struggled to contain.
The Battle of Helm's Deep raged on with unrelenting ferocity. The clash of steel and the roar of orcs echoing through the valley. As darkness descended upon the fortress you stood shoulder to shoulder with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Your heart was pounding with adrenaline, determination, and a touch of fear.
Together, you fought valiantly against the relentless tide of enemies. Your blades flashing in the dim light as you defended the walls of Helm's Deep with all your strength. But as the battle wore on fatigue began to set in and the odds seemed increasingly insurmountable. In the chaos of the fray the enemy's forces surged forward with renewed fury. You were overwhelmed. The defenders of Helm's Deep were overwhelmed with their sheer numbers. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli fought with unmatched skill and valor. Their resolve unbroken even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.
In the middle the chaos and confusion tragedy struck for you. As the defenders of Helm's Deep rallied for one final stand you found yourself separated from your companions. Unfortunately surrounded by a horde of wargs and orcs. With grim determination you fought with all your might. Every strike of your blade a desperate attempt to fend off the encroaching darkness.
But it was not enough.
As the enemy closed in around you completely overwhelming you with their sheer numbers, you felt a surge of despair wash over you. Your strength faltered and your movements began growing sluggish as exhaustion threatened to consume you whole. And then in a moment of cruel fate you were seized by the snarling jaws of a warg. You were dragged away from the safety of the fortress just as the offenders began to retreat. You were a prize.
Aragorn's heart constricted with dread as he watched helplessly from afar. His voice lost amidst the din of battle as he called out your name in desperation. His pleas were a cruel reminder of how quickly things could change. With every fiber of his being he longed to rush to your aid. To fight tooth and nail to rescue you from the clutches of the enemy. But the tide of battle had turned, and he had no time to rush after you for he would likely die in the cause.
And so, as Helm's Deep fell silent in the wake of the enemy's retreat. Aragorn's heart weighed heavy with grief and guilt. For though the battle had been won. The cost had been immeasurable. And the fate of his beloved remained uncertain, lost amidst the darkness that lurked beyond the walls of Helm's Deep.
In the grim depths of Saruman's fortress, you endured unspeakable torment at the hands of your captors. From the moment they laid hands on you their cruelty knew no bounds. Their twisted minds delighting in the suffering they inflicted upon you. They reveled in your screams of agony. Their laughter echoing off the cold stone walls as they subjected you to unimaginable pain and suffering. Every blow, every cut, every moment of pain was a sickening game to them. A twisted form of entertainment that they relished with sadistic glee.
But despite their best efforts to break your spirit you refused to fold. With every fiber of your being you clung to life with a tenacity that defied comprehension. You endured their tortures with a steely resolve. Your will to survive burning bright even in the darkest of moments. They tried their best to break you. To strip away your humanity and reduce you to nothing more than a shell of your former self. But still you fought on. Your spirit unbroken even as your body bore the scars of their cruelty.
In the depths of despair, you found a flicker of hope—a tiny ember of defiance that refused to be extinguished. And though they tried to snuff it out. To drown it in a sea of pain and despair, still it burned bright within you. It was Aragorn. He was your salvation. Your thoughts that brought light within your darkness. You couldn’t break. Not when you knew was alive and fighting to see you again.
And so, as the minutes turned into days and the days turned into weeks, you clung to life with a determination that seemed to defy reason. For though they sought to destroy you. To crush your spirit beneath their heel. Still, you refused to surrender, your will to survive burning bright even in the face of unspeakable evil. You began to worry they may tire of you. That they may get bored and kill you despite your efforts to survive.
In the grim confines of Saruman's fortress sustenance was a meager and scarce commodity, doled out sparingly by your captors. Each day you received barely enough to sustain your frail body. The meager rations serving as a cruel reminder of your dire circumstances. The food was tasteless. The water stagnant and foul. Yet you choked it down with grim determination. You did it in hopes of seeing Aragorn again. Maybe just maybe you could confess your love to him for this journey made you finally realize your feelings for him.
You couldn't bear the thought of leaving this world laying bare the depths of your heart and soul to him. And so, even as your body grew weak and your spirit faltered, you held fast to the hope that one day, somehow, you would find your way back to him.
As the news of Saruman's demise spread throughout Middle earth a small bit of hope rose within the hearts of those who had suffered under his tyranny. For you, however, trapped within the depths of Orthanc's dungeons, the passing of the once-great wizard brought no relief from your torment.
Barely clinging to life as your body was ravaged by weeks of unspeakable suffering. You lay in darkness your breaths shallow and labored. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you teetered on the brink of oblivion. Your spirit beginning to falter by the weight of despair.
But in the cruelty of the shadows that engulfed you a faint whisper of hope stirred within your soul—a feeling, a sensation that you couldn't quite explain. It was as if a part of you knew deep down that your salvation was at hand. That somehow, someway, your beloved Aragorn was close and would come for you.
And come for you he did.
Driven by a gnawing sense of unease. A feeling that he couldn't shake, Aragorn ventured into the depths of Orthanc. His heart weighed heavy with dread and determination. Guided by instinct and a love that knew no bounds he searched tirelessly for any sign of your presence. His footsteps echoing through the cold stone corridors as it laid eerily quiet at Saruman’s demise.
And then, at long last, he found you.
Tucked away in the darkest recesses of the dungeons, barely visible amidst the shadows, lay your frail form. Your breaths barely there, faint. Aragorn's heart constricted with anguish at the sight of you, his beloved, so close to the brink of death.
With trembling hands and a voice choked with emotion. Aragorn gathered you into his arms. He cradled you against his chest as if he could shield you from the darkness that threatened to take you from him. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he whispered words of love and reassurance. His voice was a soothing balm to your battered soul.
As he held you in his arms as gently as he could he broke down. "Gandalf! Legolas! Gimli! Anyone, help!" His cries reverberated through the silent halls of Orthanc. Each plea in desperation for your salvation. He cried for someone to come to your aid.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cradled you against his chest, his heart breaking at the sight of you—so frail, so vulnerable, so close to slipping away from him forever. He whispered for you to hold on. His voice raw with emotion as he begged you to stay with him just a little while longer. But you remained unconscious. Your breaths shallow and labored, your life hanging by the slimmest of threads.
As Aragorn's desperate calls for help echoed through the halls of Orthanc. His heart broke with fear and anguish. Though finally his cries were answered. Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli came running, drawn by the urgency and desperation in Aragorn's voice. Their faces paled at the sight that greeted them. Your frail form cradled in Aragorn's arms, barely clinging to life.
Gimli, his usually stoic demeanor crumbling in the face of such tragedy, sank to his knees beside you. His heart heavy with sorrow. "By the beard of Durin," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "What have they done to you, lass?"
Legolas with eyes wide of shock and horror, approached tentatively. His usual grace replaced by a raw vulnerability as tears welled in his eyes. "Nay, this cannot be," he whispered. His voice trembling with grief. "Not Y/N... not like this."
Gandalf had a grave expression on his face as he stepped forward. His gaze piercing as he took in the extent of your injuries. "We must act swiftly," he declared. His voice commanding. "There is still hope, but time is of the essence."
With a sense of urgency, they rallied together. Their hearts heavy with grief but their resolve unyielding. With shaking hands Aragorn carried you from the depths of Orthanc, his footsteps echoing heavy through the silent halls as they emerged into the light of day.
As time grew short and the urgency of the situation became increasingly apparent, Gandalf knew that swift action was needed to save you. With a wave of his staff and a word of command he called forth one of the Great Eagles. Ancient creatures who served as allies to the free peoples of middle earth.
As Gandalf summons the Great Eagle to take you to Lothlórien Aragorn's determination to stay by your side remained unyielding. With a glance at the rest of the Fellowship he knew that their journey will be swift on horseback as the Great Eagle could not carry them all.
"Aragorn," Gandalf begins, his voice carrying a sense of urgency, "time is of the essence. We must act swiftly to save Y/N."
Aragorn nods solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he turns to Gandalf. "I will take her on the eagle to ensure she receives the care she needs. The rest of you must ride with haste to Lothlórien. I will meet you there." Gandalf and the others exchange a knowing look. Understanding the weight of Aragorn's decision. With a nod of agreement Gandalf turned to the rest of the Fellowship.
"We ride for Lothlórien," Gandalf declares, his voice echoing with authority. "May the Valar watch over us all."
As Aragorn carries you in his arms and mounts the Great Eagle the rest of the Fellowship saddles their horses and sets off towards Lothlórien knowing it would delay their plans to get to Mordor. But for you they knew they had to. With a sense of urgency driving them forward they rode with haste. Their hearts heavy with worry yet filled with hope that you will receive the care and healing you so desperately need.
After what felt like a lifetime to Aragon Great Eagle descended upon the lush treetops of Lothlórien. Aragorn's urgent pleas for help echo through the elven realm. Celeborn alerted by the urgency in Aragorn's voice, rushed forward from the heart of Lothlórien.
With swift steps, Celeborn reaches Aragorn's side just as the eagle touched down. He sees the urgency in Aragorn's eyes and the battered state of your body and without a moment's hesitation he takes you from Aragorn's arms. His expression a mix of concern and determination.
"Bring her to me," Celeborn commands. His voice carrying an air of authority.
Aragorn watches with a mixture of relief and apprehension as Celeborn rushes towards the healing chambers of Lothlórien. His skilled hands cradling you gently. With each step Aragorn's heart pounds with worry, but he knows that you are in good hands.
As Celeborn disappears into the depths of Lothlórien Aragorn's thoughts turn to the rest of the Fellowship who are still traveling on horseback. He knows that they will arrive soon with their hearts heavy with concern for you. He worried for you. For Frodo and Sam who were continuing their journey ahead. For the delay all of this brought. But he couldn’t seem to care about that all knowing the woman he loved was on the brink of death. The woman who was always so full of life may be taken from him far too soon. Before he could confess his true feelings.
With a silent prayer on his lips, he followed Celeborn into the healing chambers. His determination to see you healed burning brighter than ever. And as he stands vigil by your side surrounded by the gentle beauty of Lothlórien, he knows that though the road ahead may be long and fraught with peril. But together you will face whatever challenges come your way
As hours pass in Lothlórien, Celeborn's efforts to heal you are met with frustratingly little progress. Despite his skill and knowledge your condition remains unchanged. Leaving both him and Aragorn filled with growing despair. Realizing that more drastic measures are needed, Celeborn calls upon his wife, Galadriel, for assistance. Together they work tirelessly through the and night. Their combined powers focused on bringing you back from the darkness of unconsciousness.
Aragorn watched with a heavy heart as Galadriel joins Celeborn in the healing chambers. Her presence a glimmer of hope amidst the peril that threatened to consume him. He knows that if anyone can help you it is the Lady of the Wood, with all her wisdom and grace.
Days turn into nights and still you remain unresponsive. You were lost in a realm of unconsciousness from which you seem unable to awaken. Aragorn's faith began to waver. His heart heavy with doubt and fear as he watches Galadriel and Celeborn work tirelessly to save you. But just when all seems lost, a miracle occurred. After a few days of ceaseless effort, Galadriel kneels beside your bedside and offers a rare prayer to the Valar. Her voice is soft but filled with conviction as she calls upon their aid. Her plea echoing through the halls of Lothlórien.
And then as if in response to her prayer, you stir from your slumber. Your eyes fluttering open for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Aragorn's heart leapt with joy as he watches you awaken. His faith restored in the power of love.
With tears of relief streaming down his cheeks, Aragorn gathers you into his arms. Holding you close as he whispers words of gratitude and love. As you lay there finally awake but still weak and fragile, Aragorn's emotions overwhelm him. Tears stream down his face as he gathers you into his arms holding you close with a fierce, desperate grip but gentle so not to hurt you further.
"I love you," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I love you more than words can express, my love. You cannot leave me again. Please, never leave me again. Please."
His words are a plea. A prayer whispered into the stillness of the healing chambers. His heart ached with the fear of losing you. The fear of facing a world without the light of your presence beside him. And as he holds you close, his tears mingling with yours. He knew that he would give anything to keep you safe. To protect you from harm. As he pours out his heart to you, he realizes just how much you mean to him—how much he needs you by his side, now and always.
"You love me?" you whisper. Your voice barely above a breath as you look up at him, your eyes searching his for confirmation.
Aragorn's laughter fills the air. A warm and comforting sound that washes over you like sunlight breaking through the clouds. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and reassuring.
"Did I not make it so obvious my wayward love?" he replies, his voice teasing yet tender as he meets your gaze with a smile.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his words. You can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Galadriel and Celeborn who have been observing the exchange with amusement, share a knowing look, their eyes twinkling with mirth of the love unfolding before them.
But in that moment as you gaze into Aragorn's eyes and share a laugh together all your worries and fears seem to melt away. For in his arms surrounded by the love and support of your companion, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead you will face them with him. Your beloved.
And as the laughter fades into a comfortable silence, you rest your head against Aragorn's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. With his arms wrapped around you, you know that you are home.
As Celeborn and Galadriel summon the rest of the Fellowship, the healing chambers soon fill with the familiar faces of your companions. Their expressions a mix of relief and joy at the sight of you awake, alive and with that smile adorning your soft features.
Gimli with his gruff exterior softened by the depth of his concern, rushes forward to your side. His eyes were brimming with tears. "By Durin's beard, lass! I thought I'd never see you awake again," he exclaims, his voice trembling with emotion as he clasps your hand tightly in his own.
Gandalf had his wise eyes shining with warmth, approaches with a gentle smile. "It is good to see you awake, my dear friend," he spoke. His voice filled with genuine relief. "You have faced darkness and emerged victorious. You are stronger than you will ever know."
Legolas, his fair face radiant with joy, stepped forward with a soft smile. "I am glad to see you awake, mellon nin," he smiled to you. His voice gentle and sincere. "The world is a brighter place with you in it."
Merry and Pippin, their youthful exuberance infectious as always rush to your side with wide smiles on their faces. "You had us worried there for a moment," Merry says, his voice filled with relief. "But you're back with us now and that's all that matters."
Pippin nods eagerly as his eyes shining with unshed tears. "We thought we'd lost you," he admits, his voice wavering with emotion. "But you're a fighter, just like Aragorn said. You'll always come back to us."
As the Fellowship gathers around you with their voices filled with laughter and tears. You felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. As you were surrounded by the love and support of your friends you know that no matter what trials may come your way you will always have each other.
As the night descended upon Lothlórien after you woke, Aragorn remained by your side as the rest of the Fellowship retired. His love and devotion unwavering as he tends to your every need.
With gentle hands he washes away the grime and dirt of your ordeal away. His touch tender and reassuring against your skin. He cleanses away the scars of battle as his fingers trace each line and mark with care, as if trying to erase the memories of pain that linger there.
As he helps you change into fresh clothes his gaze never strays from yours. His eyes were filled with an intensity of emotion that took your breath away. He spoke softly. His voice a soothing melody that fills the silence of the healing chambers.
"You are my light in the dark," he whispered softly to you. His words a declaration of love that echoes in the stillness of the night. "You are the reason I fight, the reason I endure. Without you I am lost my love."
Tears fill your eyes at his words. The depth of his love overwhelming in its intensity. "And you are mine," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out to touch his face. "You are the reason I am alive, the reason I kept going. Even in the worst of times."
As the soft glow of moonlight filters through the canopy of leaves above Aragorn's adoration for you seems to shine even brighter. With every touch, every whispered word, he worships you as if you were a goddess descended from the heavens themselves.
He kneels before you, his eyes alight with reverence. He places gentle kisses upon your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, as if each kiss is a silent prayer to the gods, thanking them for blessing him with your presence. Thanking them for letting you live.
"I am unworthy of your love," he murmurs. His voice filled with sincerity as he gazes up at you with awe. "But I swear to you, I will spend every moment of my life trying to prove myself worthy of you."
His words melt your heart. Filling you with a warmth that spreads from the tips of your fingers to the depths of your soul. You reach out to cup his face in your hands, tracing the lines of his jaw with your fingers. Feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your touch.
"You are more than worthy," you whisper, your voice barely a breath as you gaze into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love reflected back at you. "You are my everything, Aragorn. Without you I am nothing."
As you hold each other close surrounded by the quiet beauty of the elven realm. You know that nothing in this world could ever tear you apart. For in each other's arms, you have found a love that transcends time and space. A love that is as boundless as the stars themselves and as enduring as the ages to come.
Warnings: smut, pre-lotr, barmaid!reader, Aragorn is not with Arwen, minimal dialogue, unprotected sex, little bit ooc aragorn, semi-public sex, creampie, one night stand
WC: 1.6k
Minors DNI
Music rang loudly in her ears, making her head throb, but Y/N kept a smile on her face as she wove through the throngs of drunk patrons, arms ladened with half empty mugs of ale. The bottom few inches of her deep green dress had already been soaked with spilled beverages and mud from the patron’s boots.
She despised working in a pub on nights like this but the pay was good and the owner had given her a room for free along with three hot meals a day so she couldn’t complain too much. “More ale!” A voice shouted from the crowd, prompting another deafening cheer.
Slamming her wide hip into the kitchen door, it swung open and Y/N was able to escape the chaos. The sounds of celebration and overly drunk men dulled by the heavy wood but not completely blocked out, providing the dimly lit room with a calming white noise. The wooden cups slammed heavy against the bucket she dumped them in. “I swear they get more rowdy every night.” She muttered to herself.
Quickly, she set to scrubbing the mugs clean, well clean enough, it wasn’t like they would care. As she was elbow deep in soap and water, her mind wandered to the mysterious man that would enter the pub every Thursday night. He would not speak to anyone, simply sit in the furthest corner of the large room, smoking his pipe and drinking. He always wore a dark cloak over his face but once in a blue moon, Y/N would catch a glimpse of his chiseled jaw.
He had enchanted her without so much as saying a word. For hours everyday, she would dream about who he must’ve been. He was too tall to be a dwarf or a hobbit and too broad to be an elf. Yet she had seen no men like him before. She imagined he was a prince or a knight from a far off land, betrayed by his people and destined to wander the world on his own for the rest of his days.
She wondered what his voice sounded like, was it as deep and mysterious as himself? What colour were his eyes? She hoped they were brown, a deep bronze like the bark of the oldest trees in Middle Earth. Gods, what she wouldn’t give to even have his large hands graze her shoulders as he moved by her.
The last of the mugs was hung up to dry. Y/N hauled the container of soapy water, that was now a deep brown, up on her hip, and strolled out of the building’s back door. The cool night air was a reprieve against her warm skin, blowing away the stress of the night. She hummed a soft tune as she tipped the bucket out over the small patch of wild flowers she had planted by the stables a few seasons ago.
There were only a couple horses housed in the small building that night, which meant she didn’t have to double check if they were all tied up. Y/N fitted the now empty bucket in the indent in the grass where it was usually placed.
She turned but her movement was halted by a strong chest. She stumbled back, quickly losing her footing and a large, warm hand took her by the upper arm, keeping her in place. “Oh.” It was the man.
His hood was down and she was able to truly see his face. He was handsome, there was no doubt, with regal features that spoke of a powerful lineage. Dark hair was tied up out of his face, making his eyes shine brightly.
They were blue.
——————
The wood dug painfully into her hips but she could not bring herself to care. Her dress was hiked up over her backside, the soaked hem quickly wetting the middle of her back. Strong hands held her down against the table she was bent over, deep grunts in her ear. Her shoes had been knocked off her feet several minutes ago so now her bare toes dug into the mud as she struggled to take his brutal thrusts.
He had not spoken a word, only having held her gently to him, a muscular arm winding easily around her thick waist as he smiled down at her.
Suddenly, she found herself in the near empty stable, his mouth on hers, their tongues tangled together in a lustful dance. His hands were everywhere at once, guiding her plump body to where he wanted her and evidently, that was with her ass angled up so he could plunge his thick cock deep within her.
His front pressed tightly to her back, their fingers intertwined on the table, his lips against her ear, occasionally pressing kisses to the lobe. Pleasure twisted in her gut, curling and tangling like a ribbon in the wind. His thrusts became a subtle roll of the hips, delaying her orgasm even for a few seconds.
Y/N let out a pitiful whine from deep in her chest as he pulled out, leaving her empty and clenching around nothing. He chuckled softly at the sight but did not tease. Gently, he spun her around and without even a hitch in his breath, lifted her onto the table and stepped between her large thighs.
Green fabric pooled around her hips as he entered her again. Y/N’s head rolled back on her shoulders, struggling to breathe, he seemed even deeper this time. The tip of his manhood moving against something deep within her that made her vision swim and her mind go blank. It was too much and not enough all at once.
Fingers tangled in his surprisingly soft hair, loosening it from the simple braid it was in. Chapped lips descended onto her throat, biting and sucking the delicate skin, leaving huge marks that she would discover later. He easily drove her higher and higher, her quim fluttered around his length as she desperately gasped for air.
The man held her as close as he could, bringing her legs up to wrap around his thin waist, her ankles locking across his ass. Her moans were melodic, getting louder with each thrust. She was burning, the ember deep within her growing to a raging fire, consuming her being. He fuelled the flame and contained it, letting her burn brightly but not so much as to destroy herself.
She was pleading, begging for him as he hung off the edge of ecstasy, needing one more push to finally succumb. A calloused thumb easily fit against her swollen pearl, strumming it like a fine instrument, making her sing. When her orgasm finally crested, it was unlike anything she had ever felt before.
Her body trembled in his embrace, clinging to him like he was an anchor in the storm of pleasure. Her stomach was pulled tight. Rolling her hips, she rode out the waves, grinding down on his cock. His teeth sunk into her pulse point, his breath shaky.
Y/N cried out as his fingers gripped her hips tightly. His cock throbbed within her as his moans filled her ears. She cradled him to her neck, her nose against his temple, inhaling his manly scent, trying to memorise it. “Please.” She whispered. “Please.”
She shivered as he exploded within her, filling her womb with his warmth. The man’s hands slipped down to her full ass and yanked her forward, his softening cock keeping his seed inside her.
They stayed like that for a while, tangled in each other, savouring the silence of the night. With one last, deep kiss, he pulled away, leaving her feeling empty and cold. “Shhh.” He cooed and cupped her jaw in an attempt to sooth her as he pulled her dress back down and lifted her into his arms.
Exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed her. Nuzzling her nose into his neck, Y/N relaxed in his hold. It was comforting, being held like this, like she was the most precious thing in the world. With only a couple strides, he brought her into the backroom, gently laying her on the small cot in the corner.
Eyes heavy with sleep, she allowed him to wrap his cloak around her. Laying a tender kiss to her forehead as she drifted to sleep, he finally spoke. “Im will tul- back an cin nin mel.”
——————
The spring had been kind this year, bringing pleasantly warm weather and fields of newly bloomed flowers. The world was healing after being infected with darkness for so long. Y/N smiled as the warm breeze washed over her.
The windows and doors of her small isolated cabin were thrown open to allow fresh air to blow through the homestead. A small blur ran past her and into the fields of wildflowers, giggling happily in the sunshine. She knew she should warn the child not to run far but she could not bring herself to dull his bright smile.
“Leryaro! Stay close to the house!” She got an affirmative squeal in reply as he danced through the flowers that were almost as tall as himself. He was so much like his father, with his dark hair and blue eyes that seemed to read her soul every time he looked at her. It had been years since the man at the pub and yet she thought of him each time she watched her boy.
“I hope I am not too late.”
Identical blue eyes looked pleadingly at her from her doorway. He looked exactly the same, just a little more tired, a little more worn down. Y/N grinned softly. “You’re just in time.”
Translations:
Im will tul- back an cin nin mel - I will come back for you my love
Leryaro - free man
platonic!aragorn x reader? i requested a bunch of these a while ago and i just adore how you write him. perhaps something in rivendell where the reader is overworking themselves because their productivity is really low so they work longer (bonus points if reader is a writer) and aragorn gets them to relax. ooh and sibling-style banter pls!!!
bonus points?? i didn't realize i was getting points at all this is fantastic
masterlist
Spring is a soothing time, it always has been. Winter is dark and dangerous; the sun sets early and tempers snap quickly, even amongst the elves. Those who claim to only proffer peace can lose it faster than you think. Grey skies spell trouble, early frost kills each and every bloom that thinks itself tenacious enough to come out before its time.
Every winter you think the cold will never end, that warmth and light will stay dead forever. Every spring, you are reminded of the one truth in this world that everyone seems to forget: it will get better from here on out. There will, at some point, be a surrender of darkness, and you will heal. We all will, and we will do it together.
You are remembering that now as you walk through the gardens of Rivendell. Stormy nights made the stone and wood structures look cold with gloom, but with the way the sun shines upon them now, you would think yourself in a wholly different place. This is your home, it has been for the last ten years. You were not an elf born, but you came to their city and they welcomed you anyway. Swords can only do so much good. Sometimes poets and scholars are more necessary than guards.
So you found a place tucked away in glen thickets and stone walkways, so you learned to pursue your craft of words and thoughts until a foreign place felt like home and accepted you as one of its own. No life is easy, not while monsters like orcs and trolls still roam the uncharted territories in between cities, but Rivendell is a peaceful life, and it does good by you.
If you cannot find strife in the danger of fighting for your life, however, you will make it yourself. Resting is a difficult thing, even though it shouldn’t be that way. If you rest too long, you start to think, and if you think, you start to realize that you are technically an outsider here, not born within the stone spirals of Rivendell but of some other place, and that means you must prove that you deserve to stay here for longer. Those who stay must have meaning. What, then, could possibly be yours?
You’re a writer, then. Fine. Could your writing compare to those around you? Even the least of the elves still have centuries on you, so much time to hone their craft. By comparison, your scribblings must look juvenile at best. You’re trying, sure, but effort can only get you so far.
You’ll have to catch up on time, then. That’s doable. It should be, at least. You pour hours into the study of manuscripts and texts in the library, force your quill to paper so many times you think you might as well never lift it up. You may not have time as your virtue, but you can force it to work for you anyway.
The problem is getting your brain to cooperate half as well as your hands. Your pattern of frantic writing starts to wear away from you as you attempt to keep up the pattern from dawn until dusk day after day after day. It is exhausting work, but it shouldn’t be– isn’t this writing, what you decided you wanted to do forever? If you were truly gifted at it, this wouldn’t take so much effort, and it certainly wouldn’t drain you the way that it does. Maybe that is another failing, one more thing that separates you from the elves.
You hadn’t realized others were aware of your inner strife until you got a visitor one month after winter ended. He comes with bloodied hands washed clean, armor placed in an unlocked box for quick access, sword still within reach. Peace does not come easily to him either, son of the North, but it does not come easily to anyone. Aragorn might disguise his torment better than you, though. Or so he pretends.
You were not aware that he was stopping by. Perhaps you should have known, if you had spent more time outside of your study instead of unsuccessfully trying to burn through the latest chapter in your work. Regardless of what you could have learned, the result is the same: your old friend stands in the doorway, shaking his head with mock solemnity even as he fails to hide a grin.
“Y/N, friend, have you ever been able to let yourself enjoy your time here, or must you always suffer yourself to your pages?”
You stand up with a smile and walk over to greet him. “Aragorn, how lovely to see you. What brings you this way?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Tracking business. There are rumors I don’t like about goings-on near Mount Doom, but that’s neither here nor there. Also, I heard that you weren’t doing as well as I would care to imagine.”
You stifle a groan. “You’ve been in contact with Arwen, haven’t you? Tell her she has nothing to worry about.”
“I would if I believed I wasn’t telling her lies,” Aragorn muses, “you seem too tired, my friend. Your brow is lined, your eyes are weary. What is the meaning of this?”
He does not say it angrily, or in any demand for information, just a concern for his friend. It is this and this alone that finally convinces you to open up.
“I need to do it,” you tell him at last, “I need results. I need pages of writing to make up for the fact that I lack the experience of the elves. I may be tired, but I feel like I have to prove that I deserve to be here.”
Aragorn shakes his head, looking surprised. “That cannot be. Who has told you that a person cannot merely live and have that be enough? Not every task must be proven right or proven useful, Y/N. You do not have to outwrite the elves, that truly is impossible. You are here to follow your own path, not theirs.”
You sigh. “It is difficult to not compare my writing with theirs when we live in the same place.”
“I remember that,” Aragorn says thoughtfully, “growing up and learning the way of the sword from elves with many decades already more than me was challenging, but it teaches you things that you would not know from mankind. Do not let them affect you, Y/N, intentionally or not. Only do what you wish to do. That is why you are here, not to do what they can but what you can. That way, they can learn from you as well.”
You run a tired hand across your face. “So you really came all this way to tell me to relax?”
His face splits in a familiar grin. “I figured you would need some advice. Besides, it truly is good to see you. It has been too long since we last spoke.”
You agree with that. “That means you could visit more often, you know, instead of tracking random animals through the wilderness.”
He frowns with pretend indignation. “My tasks are more important than that.”
“I wouldn’t know,” you tease, “you never visit long enough to tell me. And when you are here, you spend all your time following a certain Elf-maiden around. It makes for difficult conversation.”
He laughs. “You’re impossible.”
“Of course I am,” you say gleefully, “that’s why we’re friends. Thank you, though, for your words. I do appreciate them.”
“They are true,” he reminds you, “it is okay to rest. It always will be.”
It is a good message, this. Hard to remember and even harder to practice, but still good. You will try to apply its power in the days to come.
lotr tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @gods-fools-heroes
Imagine: what I think your relationship and kinda life with Aragorn would be like if he found you out in the woods and took you in as his own
Warnings: mention of blood, mention of injuries, mention of war, mention of death to characters, a bit of angst I guess
A/N yes I am a sucker for Aragorn x teen!reader only problem there aren’t many out there and I took it upon myself to write some of my own, I have some other lotr imagines coming out soon as I have been in a lotr and hobbit mood recently, so well enjoy this while I write the requests that I have to write I could add so much more to this, but I decided to stop myself before I wouldn’t of been able to stop myself
Your parents had been killed by orchs and you were now on the run from them, not wanting to die after your parents sacrificed their life for you
But you running in the woods trying to get away from a pack of orchs was bound to fail
The orchs had their wargs and to outrun them would mean you had some superpower or magic, which you obviously didn’t have
So there you were in the woods no idea how you would survive, sure you could fight your father had made sure of that, he wanted you to be able to protect yourself, but to fight alone against an orch pack + their wargs would not end well
Just before you thought you would die Aragorn had come, and he started to kill the orchs
If you were a teenager when he found you, you would of helped him to kill some of the orchs, but if you were a child you would probably just stand there and watching while the man saved your life,
To him it wouldn’t of mattered if he had found you as a child or teenager he would still of loved you till the end of time
After he saved your life he would of offered to take you to Rivendell or to his home with the Dunedins
You obviously not having anywhere to go anyway accepted his offer, and so started your bond together
He comforted you every time you cried about your parents, or when you woke up in the middle of the night because of your nightmares
He would teach you elvish so that you could understand the elves in Rivendell
He’d teach you to fight even better, and he wouldn’t stop to train you until you could defeat him in a fight
He was the one to introduce you to Arwen, Legolas, Elrond, Elladan and Erlohir
You always went with him on his “adventures” as you liked to call it
Getting into trouble with Elladan and Elrohir
Obviously you wouldn’t of seen him as a father figure to begin with, still grieving the loss of your biological parents, but after a few years you would eventually feel like he was some kind of parental figure towards you and in the end he would become your father
Aragorn on the other hand felt the connection the first time you met, he couldn’t help but take you in as his own, it wasn’t like he planned it, no he just fell into the role of a father
Sometimes you would fall asleep with your head on his shoulder as you watched the stars
You got introduced to Gandalf one time when he had came to visit in Rivendell the same time you and Aragorn were there
He showed you some of the magic he could do, and you were mesmerized by it
It’s safe to say that you become good friends with most of Aragorn’s closest friends, if they were close to Aragorn it meant you could trust them
When Gandalf found out that the ring Frodo possessed was in deed The One Ring, he had asked you to keep watch around The Shire
It had been the first time you had split up from Aragorn since you had met him
You found Aragorn once again when he had just started to travel with the four hobbits, and you helped them to Weathertop
You fought together with Aragorn against the Black Riders, the hobbits swore to everything they knew that they had never seen two persons fight as well as the two of you did together
When the meeting was, you were originally not invited thank Aragorn for that, as he didn’t want you to follow on this quest but you snuck inside anyway and before Aragorn had a chance to tell you to leave it was to late
And so you were a part of the fellowship of the ring
Aragorn and Legolas, even though they knew you could handle yourself, would always check so that you were alright, after all you were still a bit to young in their eyes to have joined the quest
Gandalf new you could handle yourself without a babysitter so he didn’t really bother about checking up on you all the time
The hobbits were drawn to you, they enjoyed your company, and Aragorn often teased you about it
“have you finally found your brothers/children”
in which you would answer “if they are my brothers/children, then you must be their father/grandfather” he was quieter after that
When Gandalf “died” you were pretty numb after wards, no tears willing to spill, even though you had tried to cry, it was only Aragorn who was able to take you out of the pain, he was the only one who was able to make you cry over the loss of Gandalf, only by saying “It’s okay, you can cry now, we are safe”
You hadn’t gotten to know Boromir that well but you stayed strong at his death for your father, who you had clearly seen was a bit broken by the death of the steward in Gondor’s son, it was your turn to help your father grieve this time
You helped Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli hunt down the orchs that took Merry and Pippin
Aragorn was always shown sporting a proud grin every time you showed the men of middle earth wrong about their ideas of you not being able to fight ( bc your age or bc your gender)
You got scared to death when Aragorn fell down the cliff when you all were on you way to helms deep, thinking he had died
Scolding him when he came back, for making you think he had died he apologized a lot of times
You were present in all the three battles, helms deep, Gondor and Mordor
You had nearly died at the fight in Mordor, he in turn scolded you over being so reckless
Becoming good friends with Faramir
Becoming the next heir of Gondor when Aragorn was crowned as their king
Being insecure about the relationship between you and Aragorn when his son was born
Him making sure you knew that nothing would ever change between the two of you
Overall he was the best second father you could ever of wished for
