son of denethor

So I’ve been re-skimming some LotR in between looking for new books to read and Boromir mentions his brother like, three times in the Council of Elrond. And I realize it’s dramatic foreshadowing shit, but consider (modern au apparently) Boromir who just talks about his brother all the time and has so many pictures:

“Hobbits like poetry? My brother won a poetry contest in third grade!!! You know who’d love to hear more about Dwarves? My brother. Gosh, I can’t wait until we all get to Minas Tirith so I can show you all the best things about my city and you can meet my brother.”


“Yeah, I’ve seen Boromir, he’s a great dude,” says Eomer, “but I hear he talks about his brother a lot?”


“How do I know you’ve actually met my brother?” asks Faramir. “And how do you know who I am?”

“… I have seen probably a hundred pictures of you and heard the stories behind all of them,” says Frodo.

“Ah,” says Faramir, resigned. “Yeah, okay, you’ve met him.”

An Unusual Member || Legolas Greenleaf

Originally posted by imaginelegolas

Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x female!Reader

Word Count: 2528

Summary: You are in attendance for the council of Elrond.

Warnings: Fluff, mystic undefined relationship.

Note: Maybe this will have a part 2

Masterlist


There was something completely foreign about a woman sitting with the men at the Council of Elrond. Hell, it was usual to see women sitting with men at all. Very few races actually saw men and women as equals. The whole situation made many of the members of council uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop you from sitting there doing your best to stay focused. You were appointed by your small kingdom to attend the council for the ring, because you were the best warrior and leader in your kingdom.

As Elrond spoke you could feel the eyes of men on you. The appointed attendant from Gondor’s stare was especially uncomfortable.

Legolas, one of your closest friends sat beside you. You could see that he and Aragorn, who stood beside you in many battles, were communicating in a way you learned that only they could truly understand.

You continued to look at the faces of all the males around you. You rested on the small hobbit and gave him a kind smile when he spared a glance at you. You heard that the hobbit along with his friends were brought here by Aragorn. Arwen had said that he was very ill at the time because he had been stabbed by a Nazgûl. You had to admit, for such a small race, hobbits were sure resilient.

The Gondor man’s attention still ran over your frame causing you to shift slightly in your seat. Luckily, his attention was snapped away from you when Elrond asked the hobbit, Frodo, to bring the Ring to the pedestal.

The hobbit walked slowly, but with great burden as he set it down in the center for all the eyes of the council to gaze upon. As you looked upon the ring, frustration welled in you. There was no reason for such a simple piece of metal to hook all these people under its spell. It was an ordinary ring infused with power, and that was the fault of men. Their desire for power was always their downfall.

Murmurs escaped the mouths of many in the council.  You watched the hobbit return to his seat. His shoulders relaxed, and his face calmed as he settled in. His job was done. He would no longer have to carry such a heavy burden. Around you the members of the council all gazed upon the ring. Some as if it was sent from the heavens, others with distain, and many just curious.

The Gondor appointed member stood and approached the ring mumbling about a dream. The sky grew dark as he almost touched it when both Gandalf and Elrond yelled at him to stop. They spoke his name, Boromir. You repeated it in your head to remember who this troubled man was.

Gandalf stood reciting something that you didn’t understand as Sauron spoke through his ring. Sauron’s voice rung out. You winced at the pain that filled your chest as Sauron’s words continued. Looking around, you could see that you were not the only one feeling this way.

Boromir takes his seat as the sky returns to its bright color. Looking to Elrond, he speaks again.

“Never before has any voice uttered the words of the tongue here in Imladris.”

“I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil,” Gandalf says gruffly. You look to the gray wizard who nods towards you.

A few months back a similar situation took place in your kingdom during a celebration. Gandalf had explained to you want was going on and you had left home to come to Rivendell to offer your help. That’s why you were here today.

“It is a gift!” Boromir protested standing up. “A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring?” ­- He started pacing the floor- “Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!”

You had to stifle your laugh at Boromir’s self-righteous preaching. The time was not fit for this reaction, but your laugh was one of pity for Boromir’s ignorance. He spoke of this curse as if it was some majestic answer. Aragorn could no longer hold his tongue.

“You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master,” Aragorn said. A faint smile rested on your lips as you looked at the man with a sense of pride for the ranger.

“And what would a ranger know of this matter?” Boromir said. Your jaw clenched at his uniformed statement. The pure stupidity of Gondor’s people about their king was astonishing. Beside you, Legolas stood up from his seat in anger.

“This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance,” Legolas spat at the ma. You reached out to Legolas and gently laid your hand on his forearm. You had spent a significant amount of time with Legolas over your years. You found that a simple touch from you would help calm his nerves at times.

“Aragorn?” Boromir said. His eyes roamed over Aragorn in astonishment. “This… is Isildur’s heir”

Aragorn straightened himself and held his head high. He was the rightful king and he showed it through his every action.

“And heir to the throne of Gondor,” Legolas added. You squeezed his arm just a little bit. And he took a step back closer to you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Frodo, who sat beside next to Gandalf, look to Aragorn with wide-eyes.

Havo dad, Legolas,” Aragorn waved his hand dismissively (translation: sit down Legolas). Boromir looked to Legolas before speaking

“Gondor has no king,” He spoke trying to gather his pride. With a heavy breath, Legolas returned to his seat beside you. You ran your hand down his arm into his hand. He laced his finger into yours as he struggled to contain his anger.

“Gondor needs no King,” Boromir looked to Aragorn this time This man’s arrogance brought anger to you, but you punched it aside. Now was not the time. Taking a deep breath, you stood.

“Aragorn speak truth,” you said silencing all the men. “The Ring answers to only one master. No other can yield it. Your need for power blinds you, Boromir, son of Denethor II. We cannot use it.”

“What would you know of this?” Boromir said standing again. “You are but a woman who knowns not of the wars of men.”

“You know not of what you speak,” Legolas said attempting to rise. Again, you lay a hand on his arm. He looks to you searching your eyes, but remaining seated.

“I am a woman, but that doesn’t not make me naïve to the ways of war,” you speak louder with more confidence. “I am Y/N, daughter of Heranah, chief warrior and next in line for the crown to the kingdom of Nuverah, a small kingdom of elves bordering Lindon. I fought amongst men in many battles and plan to fight for many more. My fate is just as much tied to this land as yours and I here whether you like that or not. Now be seated while the discussion of the rings destruction takes place.”

With your words the rest of the council was quieted. Boromir sat wordlessly down. You also took your seat. Legolas’s hand found yours intertwining your finger silently. Neither you nor him looked to the other as Elrond continued.

“You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed,” Elrond said. All eyes feel upon the ring where it sat untouched.

“What are we waiting for?” said a dwarf. He took his large axe and approached the pedestal yelling. He brought the blade to the ring only for the blade to shatter with a loud clang.

You move to shield your face as a shard of the axe comes flying towards you. You feel Legolas’s free hand come to your cheek in before moving away as quickly as it came. You opened your eyes to see that many shards of the axe lay around the ring. The dwarf had fallen to the ground breathing heavily and Legolas’s hand was now bleeding just a little, but you could do nothing for it.

Diola lle,” you speak softly into the elf’s ear (translation: thank you).

Lle creoso, Melamin,” he said just as quietly (translation: you’re welcome, my love). You both returned your attention to the Ring.

You saw that Frodo was in some sort of pain as his face contorted and he grabbed his head. Gandalf turned to Frodo, but could do nothing as more words came from the Ring.

Dwarves came to the aid of the one who was now lying on the ground.

“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin by any craft that we here possess,” Elrond said. “The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do it.”

You scanned the faces on all the people surrounding you. Everyone was quiet.

“One does not simply walk into Mordor,” Boromir said. Everyone listened worriedly. “Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful.” -Frodo looked terrified as he spoke- “It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!”

Legolas startles you as he jumps to his feet.

“Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!” the anger he held for Boromir leaked into his words.

“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it?!” Gimli said. Aragorn rolled his eyes and you clenched your fist.

“And if we fail, what then?! What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!” Boromir said. He was very pointed with his words.

“I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!” Gimli roared getting to his feet.

This time many elves got to their feet yelling. You stood and tried to help Legolas hold them back. It wasn’t long before everyone was on their feet yelling at others from a different race. You stayed silent as you stood in the way of an elf and a dwarf.  Gandalf got up as well and his voice was added to the mix.

You looked over to Frodo to see how the hobbit was doing. He was staring at the ring in trance. Frodo’s breath was labored and he tensed up. You slowly tried to push through the crowd to reach him, but everyone was pushing back. You saw the Hobbit get to his feet.

“I will take it,” the hobbit said. “I will take it.”

No one else heard that you could tell because the chaos persisted, but you stopped in your path to him. Gandalf closed his eyes. He looked disappointed. You could tell that Gandalf cared for the Hobbit as he turned to look at Frodo.

“I will take the ring to Mordor,” Frodo said. Everyone fell silent and looked at the Hobbit in shock. Aragorn had a sense of respect cross his face. “Though… I do not know the way.”

“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear,” Gandalf stood beside Frodo and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will,” Aragorn said standing and walking towards the hobbit.

“I too will carry as long as you will have me,” you said stepping forward. You offered a smile to the hobbit which he returned with a nod. You came to stand beside Frodo offering a smile to Gandalf.

“You have my sword,” said Aragorn getting on his knee to be at eye level with Frodo.

Gandalf looked to Elrond and nodded. Elrond looked impressed as the scene unfolded in front of him. Legolas looked to you before speaking up as well.

“And you have my bow,” Legolas says coming to stand beside you. You captured his hand in yours and gave it a small squeeze.

“And my axe,” Gimli said proudly.

Legolas’s shoulder’s fell at Gimli’s words. Gimli returned the look, but stayed in his spot beside Legolas.

“You carry the fates of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done,” Boromir approached the group slowly which you were disappointed about. You looked at the men around you, but saw a small movement in the bushes. A small sound rose up as another hobbit made his way over.

“Mr. Frodo is not goin’ anywhere without me!” the second hobbit said. He came to stand next Frodo holding his head up high.

“No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not,” Elrond said laughing.

Suddenly two more Hobbits come running over. You look to Legolas and offer an assumed look gesturing to the hobbits. Legolas let out a small laugh and nodded.

“Wait! We are coming too!” The two hobbits said.

“You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!” one said.

A smile stretched across your face as they came to stand in front of you. Elrond seemed shocked that more Hobbits were still coming. He also seemed a tad worried as his eyebrows creased deeply. Legolas squeezed you hand bring your attention to him. You smiled at him and he returned the smile again. The two new hobbits had their arms crossed over their chests and were glaring at Elrond as if they were challenging him to tell them they couldn’t go.

“Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing,” the other said. You laughed a little.  Gandalf looked like he was embarrassed about bring these hobbits there. You wanted to laugh at the face that he was making.

“Well that rules you out Pip,” The first said. He looked really annoyed with his comrade as if his statement had lessened their cause. You placed your hand on “pip’s” shoulder and squeezed it. He looked up at you with a smile.

“Ten companions… So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!” Elrond spoke loudly booming over the crowd. He seemed so proud of the name he had come up with. The latter two hobbits looked at each other joyously.

“Great! Where are we going?” said “pip.” Everyone turned to him and their faces fell. Frodo looked like he was going to laugh at his companion. You just shook your head.

You were going to enjoy with trip.

the-last-hair-bender  asked:

Boromir never dies and after the ring has been destroyed gets hobbitnapped by Merry and Pippen and lives out his days in the Shire getting fat and impressing the hobbits with his tallness and ability to carry heavy things without needing a wagon.

I haven’t written for LOTR in so long man, but omg I tried I’m sorry


To be quite fair, it was all Pippin’s idea. If asked, Merry would tell everyone this, even Boromir himself. It was Pippin’s idea to hobbit-nap the son of Denethor, after the war ended and the ring was destroyed. Aragorn had found it amusing, and if he wasn’t as amused as his king, Boromir would have called him a jerk for it. But regardless, Faramir became the Steward of Gondor, and the elder brother went back with the Hobbits.

The folks of the Shire were unsure of him at first, but he wasn’t too surprised; not many Halflings dealt with Men on a regular basis. It was easy to win them over, after he hauled someone’s wagon after the pony got hurt. After that, he found himself being asked to tend to most manual labor for them. While he had to duck in… well, in every Hobbit Hole, he didn’t mind. Merry and Pippin often helped him, both laughing and having fun. Sam and Frodo joined them a handful of times, as well.

He wasn’t surprised when Samwise Gamgee was elected Mayor of the Shire, though the poor lad himself was shocked. He wasn’t surprised by the second, or third time, either, but the fourth had been a surprise, but the fifth, he wasn’t, until the sixth and seventh times. He had definitely been surprised by that. Seven consecutive years as Mayor of the Shire was definitely something to be proud of, and all of Sam’s friends and family were proud of the Hobbit.

It broke his heart, when Frodo left Middle Earth, but he wasn’t too shocked by it. The ring bearer had been through a lot, and the quest had taken a lot from him. If he’d feel at peace leaving the realm of mortals, then Boromir could only hug him and say goodbye.

He could feel himself getting older, and the Hobbits watched his hair gray, among other things that changed with age. Still, he never wavered in hauling wagons or helping build their homes in the hills until joints ached with age. Only then, did he do less and less, telling more and more stories to the children, rather than doing manual labor. And, sure, after the Quest ended, his life wasn’t full of battle and wars, but the smiles on the Halflings’ faces, not to mention the laughter of the small children, had made his life inherently better.

It was with a heavy heart that had Merry and Pippin insist they visit Gondor, one last time, that gave the man a chance to visit his homeland again. He was aware of what they were doing; he knew his time was coming to an end, and he was more okay with that than he was sure most would think. He knew the two halfings were taking him home to say goodbye, to be buried, but until they got there.

They had one last adventure.

Prompts

Prince of Middle Earth

When someone asks you to name a son of Denethor the Second, who would you name first? Boromir? Or Faramir? When you think of Faramir, what is the first association you get?

When Faramir was five years old his mother Finduilas died, causing his father Denethor to distance away from family. As well, Denethor clearly favored his elder brother, Boromir, more. This is a crucial point for a child. Every child needs to have a support from parents, to feel relevant and know that he is doing well, that he is not just left in this world alone. Faramir, though, didn’t get any of this.

Fortunately, Faramir had a very warm and close relationship with his brother Boromir. Even as Boromir was favored more, not only by his father, but also by nation, Faramir never experienced jealousy. This shows us that he had a very kind heart, which was devoted from any bad quality. Son of Gondor’s viceroy could still get support from his family, even though it was only his elder brother. May be that’s why our hero didn’t grow up as a heartless machine, which quite often (but of course there are always special cases) happens to children left without family all alone? Could it be just brother’s love that shaped him this way?

Overshadowed by brother’s achievements and glory, Faramir goes on with his interests - music and lore. Warrior’s life didn’t appeal to him. This caused many people think of lack of bravery and mental strength, which was not true. Hidden behind the mask of tranquility, was a growing strong tree of valor, which had to show itself soon, as the war was heating up in the lands of Middle Earth.

After so many years always being behind his brother. After so many years of deprived father’s love. After so many years of feeling not needed in this world, one day, it came. Right into his hands. A tiny object, which could change his life forever. The Ring.

So simple. Just stretch out your hand and all the power and everything you were seeking for your whole life could come true. You could finally make your father proud and respectful. You could get in front and get the glory. You could be felt relevant. 

Faramir knew that when he comes back from Ithilien to Minas Tirith, Denethor’s regard would vanish completely. He knew that the only chance to change his life would be gone forever. But he turned away from it. He let the Ring go.

Faramir did come back to Minas Tirith, where was once again cruelly scolded by his father. He didn’t find support from his brother, as Boromir would never be next to the younger brother anymore. In total despair, Faramir goes to a hopeless battle for Osgiliath. He goes with an aim in front of him - to fight to death for his motherland.

One day, a sun has shined upon him - a bright and warm sun. Faramir stands in the Houses of Healing looking at the land that stretches out in big plains with a range of mountains on the horizon. Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien found peace as the war had ended, smoke still staying thick in the air, far out at the Black mountains. He found love, as Eowyn’s head lays on his shoulder. He felt needed for the first time in his life.


I think the lesson from Tolkien is that no matter what, stay a person with high qualities. Any kindness will eventually get rewarded, even when you most are not expecting this.

-Forget the real world, get lost in Middle Earth-

vegaofthelyre  asked:

How do Zinat and Boromir deal when he goes on campaign?

NOT WELL.

Mostly because when they were first married, Zinat fell very ill while Boromir was away on campaign—since Faramir was in Minas Tirith and Eowyn was away in Rohan, it was just her and the servants at Emyn Arnen. They weren’t sure what to do as she became increasingly feverish and unresponsive, and none of the healers’ tinctures or poultices seemed to be having any effect.

By the time anyone actually sent for the Lord Steward, the fear was that Zinat would be dead before he returned.

(She recovered, of course, but Boromir was so livid that he actually gathered all the staff of Emyn Arnen in the great hall and shouted at them until Zinat, still too weak to walk, had to tug on his sleeve and convince him she needed to return to bed immediately—yes, now; you have made three of the serving maids and a kitchen scull cry, lord husband, I think they have grasped your displeasure.)

For the next month, Boromir never left his wife’s side and snarled at any servant who attempted to feed or dress her themselves. Initially, Zinat treated this with fond indulgence, but she soon grew tired being treated as an invalid. Finally she had to wave Aragorn’s missives in Boromir’s face and convince him that he was more needed in Arnor than at her side.

(By that point the servants lived in such terror of the Lord Steward’s rage that they would actually go out of their way to avoid him in the halls. Zinat was quick to bend this to her advantage—it was easy to play the fair and forgiving Lady of Emyn Arnen to her husband’s new bluster, and to build a trust between herself and the servants which was rooted in no, of course, you may trust me with this, I will speak to the lord steward if that is needed.)

(It was, perhaps, unfair to Boromir, who sought only to ensure she was not neglected again—but Zinat would rule her own household.)

Now Zinat and Boromir have a system where they send one another something each week—some weeks they are beautifully-crafted letters, signed yours, faithfully; other weeks they are doodles Boromir scrawled on the edge of a campaign map, or Zinat’s We are clearing a new field, I hope you will be home to see it planted, jotted on the back of a chitty for wheat. A ribbon from Zinat’s hair, some little carving Boromir bought from peddler woman—

The point is just for them to assure the other they’re still alive and well, even so far apart.

Kingly Duties (Aragorn X Reader)

Summary: Post Return of the King, Reader discovers that many of the Fellowship have no idea of how to ballroom dance. Unfortunately, they’re going to have to soon, what with Aragorn’s coronation coming up and a large celebration planned afterward. Keeping this in mind, the reader takes it upon herself to teach her friends. However, her friends have a few ideas on who she should be teaching to dance.

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Today’s Playlist: Nope, nothing. I guess. I mean, there’s probably a song out there, but I wasn’t listening to it when I wrote this.

Cast: YOU! Aragorn/Estel, Gimli son of Gloin, Legolas Greenleaf, Peregrin (Pippin) Took, Meriadoc (Merry) Brandybuck, Samwise (Sam) Gamgee, Frodo Baggins, Gandalf the White, Faramir, mentions of Boromir, Arwen, and Elrond, and some random messenger guy as well as mentions of random advisors.

Warnings: Fluff!! If you don’t like fluff, that’s a warning. Also, the Fellowship being bad at dancing. ALSO Legolas teasingly offending dwarves

Status: Complete! (Might consider a sequel if someone requests it. Or a prequel)

“What do you mean you can’t dance, Gimli?!” You exclaim loudly enough for the rest of the Fellowship to hear. At least, what remains of it. Since Boromir died, it’s been far quieter. The rest of the Fellowship has gathered in celebration of Aragorn’s coronation, but that is a few days away.

    The dwarf scoffs, “I don’t need to know how, lass! I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

    You gape, “You’re telling me that dwarves don’t dance?!”

    “Not often.”

    Legolas, who is reclined on a chair nearby, laughs lightly. “Why am I not surprised?”

    Gimli glares at him, though it is well meant and fondly. Pippin, who is on one side of the room alongside his hobbit brethren, pipes up. “I don’t know how to ballroom dance, but I can do a jig!”

    You gape further and turn to the hobbits with your arms crossed over your chest. “Excuse me?!”

    They look at you with terrified faces, unsure of whether Pippin has made a good decision in informing you of their inabilities. Gandalf chuckles around his pipe. “Hobbits are known to dance in merrier forms, (Y/N), not in such formal ways that you know.”

    You turn to him swiftly, protesting. “Dunedain are not known for their formal dancing, Gandalf. I am simply cultured.”

    Aragorn chuckles, smiling to himself at your antics. He is slouched into his chair and smoking his pipe in a similar fashion to that of Gandalf, very unkingly.

    You turn to him with a devilish smirk. He notices this and cocks an eyebrow. “And I seem to remember a young man with two left feet that I had to dance around a Ranger camp with for weeks before he finally figured it out.”

    The Fellowship all laugh as Aragorn shrugs, raising his hands in surrender. “And I am all but ashamed of it. I’ve never been one for dancing.”

    Strangely enough, Legolas has been silent. Aragorn seems to notice this as well and turns to his elven friend with a mischievous look. Legolas sends him a glare, practically demanding he remain quiet. Aragorn, however, does not listen. “Though I know someone who is.”

    You look to Legolas with a pleasantly surprised expression. “Legolas? You can dance?”

    Legolas sighs and nods, still upset with Aragorn. Gimli laughs heartily, “The elf! Dance! Ahahaha! As what would be expected of a princeling!”

    Legolas glares at Gimli, then smirks. “A fair opportunity to meet fair maidens who don’t retain any facial hair, I would call it.”

    Gimli looks offended, though he knows the elf is teasing, and starts to speak. You interrupt, still curious about Legolas’ skills. “Were you raised to know it or was this a recent development?”

    “About as recent as it can get for an elf, you mean,” Gandalf mutters, adding onto your statement.

    Legolas ignores his wizard companion, knowing full well that Gandalf is in a similar situation as he recognizes elves to be. “My father taught me.”

    Aragorn’s head snaps up, “Thranduil, King of the Greenwood? Truly?”

    “A long time ago.” Legolas elaborates to his friend, who clearly knows more of his father than anyone else does. “Before he became so…cold.”

    It is silent for a few moments. Only a few understood the words of Legolas and sympathized, while the others simply didn’t know what to say. So, you spoke up. “That’s it! None of you are going to the coronation with mediocre skills in dancing!”

    There are immediate protests from all sides of the room, even Legolas’. It seems that he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the Fellowship, nor does he enjoy dancing. Gandalf chuckles at the others, knowing he won’t be forced to dance. Aragorn especially does not enjoy dancing in front of others, as you know well. However, you have other plans.

    “None of you are getting out of this!” You inform them as they start to quiet, accepting their fate. “Now, I need a partner….”

    You look around the room, examining everyone carefully. You already know who you’re going to pick, but it’s fun to see them frantically fear for their dignity. Pippin and Merry look absolutely terrified while Frodo seems to sink into the background, trying to disappear. Sam frowns but looks submissive as if he won’t deny a request. Poor Sam; too nice for his own good. Gimli avoids your gaze, hoping that you won’t make eye contact and immediately choose him. Gandalf continues to chuckle and leans back into his chair, knowing full well that you won’t pick him. Aragorn shifts in his chair slightly but smirks knowingly.

    “Legolas!” You announce and smile at the others sighing in relief, then laughing at Legolas’ grim expression. “Come here and help me teach them.”

    He sighs and stands, taking his position in front of you. You start to teach the large group, bidding them be silent and hear your lessons. “You put your hand on her hip, here, while she puts her hand on your shoulder. The man always leads, unless the lady is headstrong.” You wink at Aragorn out of view of the others and he glances away shyly, which isn’t normal for him. Then again, you are his best friend. “Legolas, go ahead.”

    He starts to lead you around the room in a classic formal, waltz-like, dance. “One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.” You twirl around the room simply, firmly holding his shoulder and smiling as he gets faster. Soon, you are rushing around the room with him spinning you every so often and the both of you taking advanced steps. The others begin to clap in rhythm with your movements, cheering the both of you on. It isn’t exactly formal, but it’s enjoyable.

    Eventually, you come to a stop, laughing and brushing your hair out of your face. “Thank you, Legolas.”

    “My pleasure.” He does a silly little bow, so you curtsy in return.

    You turn to the others in the Fellowship, “Did you get that?” They nod slowly, doubting themselves. You roll your eyes, then clap your hands to get things moving. “Lovely! Now, pair up. We have a shortage of women, so we’ll have to deal with this for now.”

    They laugh and protest, but soon find their partners. Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin, and Legolas and Gimli, though they are reluctant and hesitant. There are some arguments about who will lead, but you quickly settle them. “Legolas, Sam, and Merry, you lead.”

You start toward Gandalf, but Legolas interrupts. “(Y/N), you should dance with Aragorn! He’s gotten rusty!”

    Aragorn glares at Legolas, thinking that it’s out of your line of sight. You blush slightly and glance toward Gandalf, who nods approvingly. So, you approach Aragorn, who stands and takes your hand. You roll your eyes as he kisses it teasingly, then you curtsy, going along with his little game. You walk toward the middle of the room together and quickly get into position.

    You start slowly as you both get into the rhythm, finding yourselves. However, you quickly turn to a fast-paced dance, twirling in between the other pairs of men, laughing heartily. Aragorn smiles as you laugh, spinning you this way and that, careful not to trod on your toes. He’s a skilled dancer, but you already knew that. After all, you were the one who taught him all he knows on the subject. You continue for some time as the others around you warm up to dancing and start to get faster.

    You and Aragorn speak quietly as you dance around the room. “Where did you learn to dance, (Y/N)?”

    You furrow your brows, “I don’t quite remember, actually.”

    “You should do it more often.” He compliments with a small smile, spinning you around.

    You blush and glance at your feet, then back up at him with a smile. “You should as well, m’lord. You’ll have to get used to it, being a King and all.”

    Aragorn laughs heartily, his head tilting back ever so slightly. He doesn’t laugh as loudly around the others usually. You can tell by their expressions. Even after so long of a journey, you still find ways to surprise them.

    The merriment comes to an end far too quickly as the other pairs break up and take a breather, as many of them are exhausted. You and Aragorn, however, continue to waltz around the room joyfully, both of you having far more stamina than the others. Once you reach the middle of the room again, you stop, the others cheering at your amazing display. You and Aragorn laugh heartily, but he does not let go of you. Your heart flutters as you look up at him, his eyes brighter than they have been in a long time, since before the war.

    He reaches a hand up to your cheek as everyone is still laughing and chattering excitedly. He starts to lean in and your heart soars. Is this really happening right now?

    Suddenly, the door to the lounge opens and Aragorn separates himself from you with lightning reflexes. A male messenger enters, clearing his throat. The entire room goes silent and looks at him expectantly. “My lord,” He addresses Aragorn, “Your advisors wish to speak to you about the coronation.”

    Aragorn sighs a little, starting toward the messenger to leave, but turns back toward you all. “Apologies, my friends. The duties of a King are never finished.” With that, he is gone. You sigh loudly as he disappears from sight, the door closing behind him. The Fellowship is silent around you. They saw the glimmer in his eyes and are very aware of what he was going to do.

    “Apologies, lass,” Gimli mutters grimly.

    Legolas frowns, gazing after his friend. Frodo stays quiet, Sam whispering something to him with a concerned expression. Pippin pipes up, “What?”

    Merry smacks the back of his head, “Pip!”

    “Fool of a Took,” Gandalf mutters darkly, glaring at the halfling, who looks utterly guilty now.

    You glance at the ground, clenching your fists frustratedly. Why hadn’t you just leaned forward a little? You quickly leave the room, suddenly embarrassed. Nothing ever happens to you when it comes to Aragorn. You’re always so close to that one moment, yet so far. Each time you seem to reset back to just being friends. It never changes.

    After that day, Aragorn is extremely busy. He isn’t seen by anyone for days, other than by his advisors and planners for the coronation. The time drags on in anticipation that you might see him again, alone. However, it isn’t until the actual coronation and celebration that you are able to catch sight of him. Correction, he catches sight of you.

    You find yourself dancing in the middle of the ballroom with Legolas, though you’re about to switch around. It’s a certain type of dance that has the women move around in a circle, switching between multiple partners.

    You keep glancing around worriedly. You haven’t seen him since the coronation actually happened. “He will find you eventually, mellon.” Legolas reassures with a friendly smile.

    You sigh, “I wish he would do more than simply find me.

    Legolas gives a sympathetic look. “I know Aragorn well, (Y/N), and I know he will not let you wait much longer.

    Soon, the music changes, sounding the noise that sends you to your next partner. You give Legolas a quick thank you and curtsy before moving left to your new dance partner. To your surprise, you find a swift-footed Faramir dancing with you. He chuckles lightly at your surprise.

    “What are you doing here?” You hiss at him, “You’re supposed to be in the healer’s!”

    “He decided I was well enough to share in the festivities.” Faramir shrugs. You roll your eyes fondly as you continue to dance. He notices your worried glances. “Have you not seen him yet?”

    “No.” You let out a breath of frustration.

    Faramir cocks an eyebrow, “He almost did it again, didn’t he?”

    You blush and glance at your feet, muttering something under your breath. It was something along the lines of, ‘men’ and a few curses that shouldn’t be named in the halls of Gondor’s kings.

    Faramir chuckles loudly, “Everything will be fine, (Y/N), and if he doesn’t make a move, I’ll give him a little shove.” He winks, causing you to laugh. He knows just the way to cheer you up. Having been a Dunedain all your life, you’ve often run into Faramir and Boromir, or both, on your travels. Faramir is a good friend, though he is still not on the level that Aragorn is. He knows this, but he doesn’t mind.

    Next, you find yourself dancing with Pippin, then Merry, then Sam, and finally Frodo. All of them share kind words with you about the situation. What good friends they are, you can’t help but think. Leaving Frodo behind, you don’t bother to look at who your next partner will be. At this point, you’ve already been disappointed repeatedly. Still, if Aragorn were here, he couldn’t dance with you anyway.

    Aragorn has a duty as the King to marry someone of worth and someone who will do well for his kingdom, none of which are qualities you possess. Besides, many have already attempted to find partners for him, one major possibility being the daughter of Elrond; Arwen. Aragorn considers her a sister and nothing more, but the people and his advisors see it as a good opportunity for the welfare of the kingdom. Even Aragorn cannot deny that.

    “Will you not look at me, melin?” A gentle voice asks.

    You gape and turn to the voice, who is now taking you in his arms and dancing with you. “Aragorn?” You look around worriedly at the crowd of people celebrating the new King, knowing they’ve started to whisper. “What are you doing?” You hiss quietly as you look down at your feet in embarrassment.

    He gives you a look of genuine hurt and confusion. “Can I not dance with my closest friend?’

    You are silent. He’s reverted back to that again. Friend. He continues to spin you around the floor, the other pairs of dancers suddenly becoming far more interesting than the handsome figure holding you tightly.

    He starts to whisper in Sindarin, determined for you to speak. “Is this about earlier? (Y/N), you and I both know there is something there. You can feel it too, I know.

    You look up at him for a few moments, finally making eye contact. The crowd’s whispers are growing louder in your ears. You can’t hear what they’re truly saying, but you can imagine their words in your mind. Who is she? Why does he choose to acknowledge her? She doesn’t look to be a queen. Why her?

    Aragorn realises you’ve noticed them. His expression softens, his dark eyes filled with hurt. “This is about them, isn’t it?”

    “Of course it is.” You reply quietly, in a hushed whisper. “And you. You have a duty as King-

    “I care not for duty, melin.” He tilts his head in the way you’ve always loved. It’s so him. He grips your hand tightly and brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently. His lips barely move as he murmurs, not breaking his gaze from yours. You’re enveloped in his gaze, barely hearing his words and yet hearing them as loud as thunder in a storm at the same time. “But I care for you.”

    He smiles and leans forward, his gentle hand upon your cheek. You don’t stop him, leaning forward a little to meet his lips on yours. You both continue to dance slowly as your lips meet and you bask in the glory of everything that has built up to this moment. Sparks fly as he holds you tightly, swaying across the floor. As you release from the kiss, you gasp for breath, as it lasted a long time. It only felt like seconds and ones that fleeted far too quickly.

    Aragorn cracks a smile once more upon seeing faint tears in your eyes. You’ve been waiting so long for that. Far too long. He reaches a soft hand to your cheek and wipes the tears away fondly. Chuckling lightly, he pulls you into a tight embrace, your head leaned against his chest. “Oh, (Y/N).”

    You lean into him contentedly, blushing and burying your head against his chest upon noticing the Fellowship gathered on one side of the room, sending you smiles and cheers. Aragorn only smiles brighter and holds you tighter, smiling victoriously at his friends and people. He does not care whether you are high in rank. He only cares that you are by his side.

Note: I had too much fun with this one, lol.

Requests are always open!

5

A FINE BRIDE

Words: 3,320
Pairing: Faramir/Reader
Based on these three imagines by imaginexhobbit.


Your pulse was beating wildly in your chest as you attempted to find a sane train of thought that didn’t end in you being committed for treason, or thrown from the kingdom he had no true control over. But that was silly. There was nothing wrong with what you intended to do. There was nothing wrong with falling in love with someone and wishing to be with them forever.


The only issue was who it was. Or rather, who their father was. Denethor.

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