When you arrived, peeking around the frame of the meeting, you noticed two things. One, everyone looked like they didn't want to be there, and two, everyone was dressed to the nines. It looked more like a tea party than a council really.
As Elrond went to speak, his ears perked, and he didn't bother trying to hide the small smirk that grazed his face. Nothing could surprise him at all, it seemed.
"My lady, if you wish to join us, do so now."
He knew you were following him. That was rather embarrassing.
With a slump of resignation, you walked out from your hiding spot, moving to the side of Gandalf while trying to look important despite being on the receiving end of multiple looks of confusion. Your eyes went over every face, some familiar, some not. They lingered on Boromir, the hardy man sitting with his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in attention, only shooting a brief glance and a small frown to you. Then your eyes went to Aragorn--
What a sight to behold. So kingly, so noble.
Legolas, however, was not amused at all, and frowned. You were unbelievable, a sight to behold in your filth and musk. His brow twitched. He was not about to make a scene in the middle of the council. So he kept his irritation controlled, eyes only narrowing slightly.
You hmmed, after all, what was he going to do? Smize you to death?
Taking advantage of his lack of authority, you hesitantly sat on the floor beside the wizard's chair, no seats vacated, while the members of the council watched for a moment in dismay and impatience as Elrond cleared his throat. Meanwhile, Frodo leaned over and whispered to his uncle, his wide blues searching your oddness. You weren't like anyone he's ever seen. Or perhaps you were. Regardless, in the span of moments, you left your impression.
"Who is that, uncle?"
"I...I'm trying to remember..." Bilbo's aged face furrowed as he stared, a peculiar feeling he had forgotten something rising as he observed you, who looked around the council with child-like curiosity. You've never seen so many walks of life before, especially all in one place. Dwarves and Elves, Man and Halflings, seeing them all there at once was such a peculiar thing. The fashion of the different peoples clashed, different lengths and tones popular amongst their common folk, and for once you felt yourself grow quiet, simply enjoying observing it all.
Boromir cleared his throat after the awkward duration, looking at you with question. Worn from travel he was, more so than most, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made him seem affable. You liked this one.
"Who are you, exactly, if I may?"
"Call me; Velvet Thunder." Legolas' gaze didn't waver, silently commanding you to shut up.
"Her name is (Y/n)," His voice trailed off in a mutter, the brows of the only kin who could hear him lifting at what you assumed were rude insults, and Boromir took it the answer, the others wondering why their time was being wasted by the strange human girl. The Dwarves began to grumble complaints, while the Elves looked to Legolas for further explanation.
"And why are you here?"
Gandalf finally intervened as you opened your mouth, almost mumbling, wanting to answer before you side-tracked everyone.
"That is for later discussion." Adjusting in his seat he shook his head, signalling for Elrond to continue with the tip of his staff, robes folding at his feet. Quite large feet he had, and you know what they say about large feet--
You pursed your lips in consideration, ignoring the conversation around you. If the thing about large feet was true, then the Hobbits surely--well, maybe your mind should not linger on the thought. You blinked the idea away.
YOU ARE READING
What The Actual? (LotR x Reader)
Fanfiction"Dwarves rule and Elves drool." When you, by far the most insufferable, whiny, incompetent woman in all of existence crash into Middle-Earth, things happen. ~ "If I was in a room with Legolas, Sauron, and Saruman, and I only had two arrows, I woul...
