Tolkien reader inserts/one shots

Warrior(Fem!reader*)

(*-no real pairing)

When all your people were slaughtered in battle and said battle was done, you went into hiding. The war was over for the moment and you needed to rest. You spent your days living quietly in a small cottage on the outskirts of a town. You grew to love it never expecting that your skills would be needed in battle again. Or that it would be the Wandering Wizard who would be the one to find you.

Even in times of trouble, the market was a lively place and you loved it. You made certain to visit every week, even if you didn't technically need anything. That was the case today. You didn't need anything, but you knew the people needed money to survive and you wanted to help. After buying a loaf of bread from the baker, you were stopped by a small girl.

"Excuse me?" she asked shyly. You knelt down so you were eye level with her and asked what was wrong. She explained to you that she wanted to buy flowers for her mother, but was too small to reach them. With a smile, you took her hand and lead her back over to the florist's stall. It was then that you heard the tell-tale sound of hooves approaching.

Glancing up, you froze. "Gandalf," your voice came out barely a whisper. He climbed down and smiled at you. You gave him a tight smile in return before turning back to the little girl and handing her the flowers she'd purchased. "Take these to your mother, little one." She nodded, unable it seemed to take her eyes off the wizard. You stood back up. "Tea?" Gandalf chuckled a bit and nodded. "Lead the way."

"What brings you this way?" you asked as soon as you were away from listening ears and prying eyes. "War. It is coming." You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "War is always coming, Gandalf. What does that have to do with me?" Gandalf glanced at you with a sad gaze.

"A battle. A battle of several armies. At least four. You are all that remains of a once proud race of warriors. The armies of Dwarves, Elves, and Men will need your help against a greater threat than their own greed." You sighed as you stopped in front of your home. "What do you want from me, Gandalf?"

The two of you entered your home and set about making the tea while listening to Gandalf. "Don your armor once more. Bring pride to your people again. Let all in Middle Earth know that their former guardians have not all failed them." You glared at him with every ounce of irritation you could. "We did NOT fail them. If we had, they would be dead instead of my people."

"I know. I know I ask a lot of you, but Middle Earth needs you now. So will you become the warrior you once were?" You wanted to shake your head. You wanted to tell him no outright. But then, you thought of your people, you knew they would not want that. Your eyes drifted over to the corner where your golden armor sat on display. There were times when it called to you, the memories of your people flashing in your mind. Now was one of those times.

"Fine. Send the eagles when the time is right and I will be there." Gandalf nodded. "Durin's day fast approaches. It will not be long after." Gandalf rose to leave, but you stopped him. "At least stay for a while and finish your tea. I rarely get company these days."

*time skip*

You woke that day with the feeling that something big was happening. You'd heard of the defeat of Smaug and the reclaiming of Erebor by the dwarves and knew it was only a matter of time before you would be needed. Something told you today was it. And of course it would be market day. You had hoped to get out without anyone noticing. Hoping you had time, you began fixing your armor over your tunic and trousers.

The sound of large wings drew your attention. It also drew the attention of everyone in the market. "Great," you muttered. You grabbed your sword. It amazed you how familiar it felt even after so many years. Like it was an extension of you. You felt a power in your soul that you never thought you'd feel again. You brought the hilt of the sword up to your forehead, pressing the cool metal against the flesh. "I will make you proud," you whispered almost like a prayer. You kissed the hilt before attaching the sheath to your waist and heading for the door.

You weren't at all surprised to find half the townspeople waiting outside your door, staring at the giant eagle. Their eyes turned to you as you stepped out, the sun gleaming off your golden armor. The little girl that you had helped in the market was staring up at you in awe. You gave her a little wink before nodding to the eagle. The next thing you knew, you were being picked up by a large talon. For a moment, you were certain you were about to die. Eagles are birds of prey after all, but you simply thrown onto the back of the giant bird as he took flight.

You held on as tightly as you dared while the eagle flew you to the destination that was unknown to you. You weren't exactly a fan of heights in stressful situations. But when you heard the noise of battle, you peered over the side of the bird. The sight that greeted you was surprising to say the least. Gandalf had been right. So many armies. So many people. Then, your eyes caught sight of a troll. That was your first target.

You unsheathed your sword, careful not to hurt the eagle. You threw your legs over one side and practically threw yourself off. As you went hurtling toward the gigantic beast, you hoped you wouldn't miss. Thankfully, you were right on target, plunging your sword deep into the troll's head. As it fell, you yanked the weapon out and rolled away. You stood up, seeing Gandalf standing with a man and an elf. "Hello, gentlemen."

"You've arrived." You smiled at the wizard. "I have. But no time to talk." The elf stood there in disbelief for a moment. "So the legends are true?" You didn't need to ask what he meant. "Yes. And I shall regale you another time. After we finish our business here."

For what felt like hours, you fought alongside the man and elf and their people. Your muscles burned. Every single part of your armor and uncovered skin was covered in sweat, dirt, and the blood of your enemies. You fought long and hard and often felt like your body would give up. But, you didn't. It was as if the strength of your people was with you. They pushed you forward to victory.

"Y/N!" You jerked your head toward Gandalf who pointed with his staff. You followed his direction. Azog. You gave Gandalf a brief nod and took off toward the pale orc. You helped as many people as you could along the way. Orcs were dying left and right, as were the others. But you kept moving. The more you moved, the more you could save. Your determination even saved two dwarves you would later learn were the princes. They weren't your main goal, but you were glad to have been able to save them.

When you finally made it to your destination, you saw Azog gloating over a fallen dwarf. You didn't need to ask to know who it was. You'd heard the stories of Thorin Oakenshield. And right now, he was in trouble. That was all that mattered. You rushed forward, sliding on the ice and slicing the legs of the orc before he could land another blow to the dwarven king. As soon as Thorin was up, he helped you defeat the pale orc once and for all. Once Azog was gone, his followers lost the will to fight with the exception of a few. The battle was won.

When families were reunited and all was said and done, you found yourself alone in the middle of the battlefield. You stabbed your sword into the ground and knelt with your hand still on the hilt. "It is finished," you whispered, "I made my people proud. Thank you for your strength, my friends. My family."

You rose and glanced behind you to find the elf from before, who you now knew was King Thranduil watching you. You smiled at him. "Shall I regale you now? I could use a drink and some company." He bowed his head and lead you toward the celebrations.