How Gimli really got to go the Undying Lands
  • Thranduil: ok Legolas everything is set are you ready to go?
  • Legolas: Yes. Are you ready Gimli?
  • Gimli: -nods-
  • -He and Legolas join hands-
  • Thranduil: um. Legolas. This is awkward as fuck but you know Gimli can't come, right?
  • Legolas: -stone cold glare- I'm sorry what.
  • Thranduil: Here we fucking go...You know the rules son, he-
  • Thranduil: Legolas we talked about this, you-
  • Thranduil: The rules say that-
  • Thranduil: Legolas! I can't just-
  • Thranduil: oh for fucks sake...
  • -Thranduil goes on a long perilous journey across the sea and appeals to Manwë and the other Valar-
  • Thranduil: Yeah hi there, I'm King Thranduil, you might remember me from the shit life you have dealt anyway, so I'm here to ask that Gimli the Dwarf be allowed to come to Valinor.
  • Manwë: but why would you, Thranduil Oropherion speak of such for one of the Naugrim. You have no great love for their kind.
  • Thranduil: Tell me about it I...ah, it's not me. It's my son, Legolas. He...he...Damn, I'm not drunk enough for this...HE FELL IN LOVE WITH GIMLI OK. And now the only way he will agree to sail is if freakin Gimli can come with him. He's so damn stubborn, I don't know WHERE he gets that from GOSH.
  • Manwë: um
  • Thranduil:
  • Manwë: you mean 'in love' like Beren and Luthien 'in love'
  • Thranduil: fucking yes.
  • Manwë: woo. Oh boy. Ah. I'm sorry. I see your concern but never before has one of dwarvish kind set foot upon these shores
  • Thranduil: yeah and trust me I wouldn't want them here either but...Legolas. As much of a pain in the ass that little shit can be, I do love him. And like, it would only be ONE dwarf.
  • Manwë: hm, this COULD eternally amend the blood feud between the two races and pass into legend as a shining example of love and my kindness that I could bestow upon them. Give them my blessing, have a few or 15,000 ballads written about it. Good for PR you know.
  • Thranduil:
  • Manwë: it is decided. Your son may bring the dwarf.
  • -Thranduil returns to Middle Earth after a terrible journey back across the sea-
  • Legolas: So can he come? Did you get permission for Gimli to sail?
  • Thranduil: oh hello son, nice to see you again too. Yes the journey was terrible thank you for asking. That stupid steward of mine was sea sick all over my favorite robe, there were orcs on the way back through the forest, and I ran out of Lembas and-
  • Legolas: can Gimli come?
  • Thranduil:
  • Legolas:
  • Thranduil:
  • Legolas: can Gimli-
  • -Gimli and Legolas passionately kiss-
  • Thranduil:
  • -still kissing-
  • Thranduil: -reaches for glass of wine-
  • Thranduil:
  • Thranduil: -throws glass to floor and grabs the bottle-
  • Thranduil: -chugs wine-
  • Thranduil: an eternity of this...fuck my actual life.
If My Elven-lord Allows

In days to come, ifmy Elven-lord allows, some of our folk shall remove hither; and when wecome it shall be blessed, for a while.(LOTR, ‘The Field of Cormallen’ p956)


This particular passage has been singled out to show a strained or at least, abnormally cold relationship between Legolas and his father, but in fact, it’s simply royal protocol.  Of the British royal family, Brian Hoey writes:

As the Nursery Footman, one became used to the curious formality of life at the Palace, even between members of the royal family. 'Prince Andrew would say to me “I want to see the Queen” (never my mother). “Would you find out if she is available?” (At Home with the Queen, 'Getting Started’ p 18)

Moreover, Legolas is speaking in a somewhat official capacity here - he wants to lead emigrants from the Woodland Realm to found a colony that will be on land in another country.  He needs permission not from his father, but from his King to do this.


(Of course, I have a slightly cracky headcanon as to how this conversation would go.)

Thranduil:  So, let me see if I’ve got this right.  Not only do you plan to move out (after I named the whole forest for you, this is the thanks I get), but you want to take a bunch of my people with you, and start a settlement in another country, ruled by another king, who isn’t even an Elf?

Legolas:  Um, yeah.  That’s pretty much it.  So, Dad, can I?

Thranduil:  And you want to marry a Dwarf?????

Imagine introducing Legolas to your parents, and them asking uncomfortable amounts of questions…

Requested by anon.

Parent 1: So, Legolas, what do you do for a living?

Legolas: Um… I…

Parent 2: Go on, tell us how you two met…

Legolas: Well we-

Parent 1: He’s handsome! Isn’t he handsome?

Legolas: Well, um.. thank you-

You: Would you give the guy time to breathe, seriously!

Legolas after introducing Gimli to Tauriel

Legolas: Well, just so you know, this dwarf is mine!

Tauriel: *chuckles* Don’t worry Legolas, he is not really my type

Legolas: What?! How can he not be your type?!

Tauriel: Um…what?

Legolas: He is so handsome and strong, and he’s poetic and funny and loyal and stubborn and..

Tauriel: Yes, well, I’m sure I will enjoy his company

Legolas: Of course you will! But remember, his affections lies with me

Tauriel: *sigh* Of course Legolas

Legolas: Stout legs and hard axe, you know *nugde nudge, wink wink*

Tauriel: Tmi, Leggy, tmi!


requested by anon.

Legolas: Um…I… I have something to ask you…

You: What?

Legolas: *clears throat* er, well, um… did it hurt?

You: I’m sorry? Did what hurt??

Legolas: *fumbles nervously* um… when you… fell from heaven??

You: i… i dont understand, what?

Legolas: because, err, you look like an angel to me *furiously blushes*

You: *giggles* oh my God Legolas did you get that from Aragorn?

Aragorn: *laughs heartily from other side of room*

Legolas: So, do you want to go for a drink?

You: Come on then, you big pumpkin

Imagine Legolas helpng you study for your finals.

Requested by anon.

Legolas: So what year did Hitler invade Czechoslovakia?

You: I…. um….

Legolas: And why did America not join the League of Nations?

You: Um… I know this one… uhh…

Legolas: Why did Hitler want to annex Poland?

You: Ugh… I don’t know…

Legolas: Have you learnt anything?

You: …

You: The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

Damn I'm like a one shot factory this week xx haha woohoo

Imagine being wounded in a battle and Legolas having to help you get changed afterwards.

Requested by mrsgenki1014. It has a bit of violence but thats it really :)

Oh, and warning: its super duper long

“Gah,” you winced, grasping your right arm, feeling hot blood drip through your fingers. Legolas’ hold on your waist got tighter, and his head spun round to look at you, his crystal blue eyes filled with concern.

“I can carry you if you want,” he began, “You don’t have to walk the whole way back-”

“No, I’m fine,” you grunted, teeth clenching, “it’s just a flesh wound, my legs aren’t hurt. Besides, we’re nearly there.”

You gestured ahead of you with your chin, and, sure enough, the tall towers of Mirkwood were visible over the gnarled, twisted trees. Legolas sighed, not happy, but aware that your pride and persistence would never allow him to carry you. As you monotonously trampled on, occasionally tripping over a fallen log and wincing as you jarred your sore arm, earning many worried looks from Legolas, your mind drifted back to that morning.

                 *               *               *             *            *                *             *

“(Y/N!)” yelled Legolas over the roars of metal clashing on metal and screeches of injured orcs, “BEHIND YOU!”

You spun around, and stood face to face with an Uruk-hai, one of the most terrifying soldiers of Saruman’s army. Its breath, hot and sticky, blew into your face, and your nose wrinkled at the scent of rotten flesh. It brought its long sword crashing down, ready to split you in half, but you raised your arms and blocked its weapon with your own, earning a small gash on your face and a jarring in your shoulders as repayment. But you were alive, that was all that mattered. You blocked another blow, this one to your side. You then parried and side-stepped, bringing your sword deep into the creature’s side, hot black blood coating your hand and tunic. Typical. You’d only just washed that. 

You removed your sword and stepped to the right, watching the vile animal’s body slump and fall to the ground in a heap, joining its many dead companions.

“Thanks!” you shouted over to Legolas, earning a small smile and head nod in recognition before he locked swords with another orc, swiftly removing its body from the burden of a head.

He cleaned his sword on his light green tunic, and started walking towards you. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to speak, but it was too late. A sharp, agonising pain entered your right side, and you screamed and fell to your knees, clutching it to find a long, thin orc arrow protruding from your upper arm.

You desperately searched for Legolas, and your eyes reached him just in time to see him fire his bow at something behind you. A dull thud came from your right, and you turned around to see a tall orc, arrow sticking into its forehead, fall to the ground next to you.

Legolas ran up to you and quickly keeled down, so he was at eye level to you. He grabbed your arm tightly, and you gave a loud shout, causing him to automatically lessen his grip. A short, sharp elvish curse came from his mouth and your eyes widened, you had never heard him swear before.

“Can you walk?” he asked urgently. 

You nodded, and he quickly pulled you up by your good arm.

“Good, we must get this seen to quickly,” and you started the long journey back to Mirkwood.

             *               *                 *                    *                *               *

“(Your name), said Legolas gently, knocking you out of your daydream,"We are here.”

Sure enough, the vast gates of Mirkwood towered over you both, and the pain in your shoulder had resided to a dull, throbbing ache. Legolas walked quickly, leaving you jogging trying to keep up with him. He turned corner after corner, mind set on reaching your chambers as fast as he could. He had to get that wound bandaged before you lost any more blood. Finally, after many twists and turns, you arrived at your doors. Legolas opened them, and held them open for you as you walked into the room. Darkness was nearly upon Middle-Earth, and the waning moonlight shone through the translucent curtains, casting an eerie glow throughout the room. You sat down on your bed, still clutching your arm, as Legolas sat next to you and began tending to your wound. Thank God your dress didn’t have sleeves on it and he was able to get to it easily. You looked away from him and winced, as he began to clean it with hot water.

“I am sorry, (your name),” he said earnestly, “but the wound must be cleaned.”

“Uh huh,” you grunted, teeth once again clenched to fight the urge to scream blue murder. You could see Legolas’ shoulders tense every time you hissed in pain, so you tried your hardest to keep quiet. Once he had cleaned the wound, his face turned grim.

“It is small,” he told you, “but it runs deep. It must be causing you much pain.” His blue eyes looked anguished, as if he felt guilty for what could never have been his fault.

You shrugged your good shoulder, and felt his warm hands surround your upper arm as he tightly applied a bandage around the wounded area. He stood up and made to go, but you coughed loudly, and he turned around, confusion etched onto his chiselled features.

“Um, Legolas,” you began, “have you ever tried getting changed with only one arm?” you gestured to your useless limb.

“Oh.” he exclaimed, flushing red.“So, you, you want me to help you to…” he made a gesture with his hands towards your nightgown, lying on the back of an ornate wooden chair.

“If you don’t mind,” you replied, standing up and trying not to laugh at the terrified look on his face.

He stepped forwards and you turned your back. His long, warm fingers brushed the sweaty hairs off your neck, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, moving his hands towards your zip. He pulled it down in one clear stroke, and your back erupted into goosebumps as the cold air hit it. Your thin, silk chemise did nothing to hide the gentle curves of your torso, and as Legolas changed position to gently pull your dress over your head, you saw him desperately trying to look anywhere but your silk-clad body, bathed in moonlight. Your dress fell to the ground in a crumpled heap and you stood in nothing but a short garment that barely covered your upper thighs. You could swear that you had never seen an elf blush, but Legolas’ cheeks certainly seemed darker than usual.

“Does it hurt if I do this?” he asked, moving your sore arm into the sleeve of your nightdress.

Your eyes squeezed shut and a small whimper escaped your mouth. Damn… yes… yes that DID hurt…

Legolas’ eyebrows knitted in concern, and as he gently pulled the nightgown over your head, his eyes never left yours. Finally, you were changed, and you stood in your nightgown, next to the most flustered elf you had ever seen in your life. You climbed into bed, and Legolas almost absent-mindedly pulled the blanets up to cover you.

He was once again, about to leave the room, when you thought of one more thing.

“Legolas?” you asked, voice soft, “can you stay? I… I don’t know, I just feel safer around you…”

His mouth quirked up into a smile, and he turned around, and took a seat on the large chair by your bed. “Of course I can,” he replied, fingers dancing near your hairline, “I will always stay when you ask me to, you know that.”

Wow… that was longer than I expected it to be… sorry about that! I just couldnt stop writing!!!  mrsgenki1014, hope that was what you were looking for xxx :) 

I am oficially obsessed with writing fluff, damn… haha xxx

As usual please tell me what you thought if you csn spare a minute, your reveiws help me become a better writer xxx 

Cat Smuggling

I work at the animal shelter and you always come in to pet the cats when you’re sad au

Bard walked past the doorway and then promptly did a double take and backed up to look back through the doorway. Turns out his brain hadn’t been playing tricks on him and there was in fact a very beautiful man sat in there with seven cats crawling on him.

“Um, you okay?” Bard asked because a) even though he seemed to be enjoying it, it looked like he was under attack from a legion of cats, and b) Bard couldn’t help but notice his eyes were a little red, and he was assuming that it wasn’t because he’s allergic to cats.

“Uh.” The man jumped a little, obviously not having noticed Bard standing there. “Oh, yes, well no. But the cats help.” He answered, and Bard at least thinks he means that being piled on by loads of cats helps to cheer him up.

“Right.” Bard responded a little dumbly, too busy taking in this seriously pretty man with the long silvery hair and the ivory skin and high cheekbones and the pretty harsh burn scar down his left side.

“If I can’t be here I can– ” The man started in his rich voice, apparently having taken Bard’s confused staring as a sign in shouldn’t be there rather than the holy shit how are you real stare that it was.

“No no, you don’t have to leave. The cats don’t get enough contact anyway, stay as long as you need.” He cut in, he wasn’t sure if it was exactly policy to let him, but frankly Bard had never given a shit about ‘policy’.

“Thank you.” He gave a small smile, gaze running over Bard (that was a-okay with Bard) before flicking back the cat currently trying to climb up his chest.

“Bard.” He blurted and felt like a moron instantly – three children and sixteen years ago and he actually had game, but he clearly didn’t any more, great. “Uh, my name, it’s Bard.” He explained awkwardly, but the man just smiled at him like he was amusing.

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