Lonely Dragon {Legolas x Reader}

Shire Bound

The Shire was as beautiful and tranquil as (Y/n) remembered—lush green fields stretched into the horizon, dotted with cozy hobbit holes nestled into the hillsides. As she approached the borders of Hobbiton, memories of her long journey with Bilbo Baggins surfaced, bringing a soft smile to her lips. She had been through much since those days—seen kingdoms rise and fall—but the Shire remained untouched, a haven of peace in a world that often knew little of it.

Hades trotted gracefully along the path, his dark coat standing out starkly against the bright green landscape. The Shire was unaccustomed to such majestic, fierce creatures, and as (Y/n) passed by, hobbits paused in their daily routines to stare in awe. Mothers clutched their children close, and farmers stopped tending to their fields, their gazes following her with a mix of curiosity and surprise. (Y/n) smiled gently, tipping her head in greeting to a few who dared wave back.

It wasn't long before she reached the familiar hill of Bag End. The round, green door looked exactly as it had the last time she'd seen it, all those years ago. She dismounted Hades, her feet crunching softly on the gravel path as she approached the door. Her heart warmed at the thought of seeing Bilbo again after so long. She hadn't been sure he would remember her, but the invitation had come as a pleasant surprise.

Raising her hand, she knocked firmly on the door. A faint rustling came from inside, followed by hurried footsteps. When the door cracked open just slightly, she was met with a grumpy, hobbit-sized eye peering out suspiciously.

"Go away!" came Bilbo's voice, annoyed and dismissive. "I'm not interested!"

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across her face. "Not the welcoming I thought I'd have, Bilbo Baggins," she teased, her tone light but carrying the weight of familiarity.

There was a long pause, and then the door swung open fully. Bilbo stood there, wide-eyed and flabbergasted, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to find the words. "By the stars..." he muttered, blinking up at her. "It's you! I—well, I never thought you'd actually come!"

(Y/n) chuckled softly, stepping forward as Bilbo hurriedly motioned for her to enter. "I'm full of surprises, it seems," she said with a grin, ducking slightly to enter the hobbit hole.

Inside, Bag End was as cozy as she remembered—warm light from the hearth flickered across the walls, casting the room in a soft glow. The familiar scent of pipe smoke and parchment filled the air, along with the comforting, homely clutter that seemed to define every hobbit's dwelling.

Bilbo, still shaking off his surprise, shuffled nervously behind her. "I—well, I'm honored you accepted the invitation, really. I didn't think you'd have time, being... well, a queen and all."

(Y/n) turned and gave him a warm smile. "I couldn't refuse an invitation from an old friend. And besides," she said, her voice softening with nostalgia, "it's been far too long since I've seen the Shire."

Bilbo beamed, clearly pleased by her presence, and gestured for her to take a seat. "Come, come! Sit! I've got tea, or perhaps something stronger if you prefer! I've heard queens like their drinks stout."

(Y/n) laughed at the lighthearted remark. "Tea will do just fine," she replied, settling into one of the chairs, though it was a tad small for her compared to the grand seats in Dracagoth.

Meanwhile, outside Bag End, Frodo and Gandalf were walking along a peaceful path, enjoying the quiet of the evening. The stars had begun to twinkle overhead, and fireflies danced around them, glowing softly in the gathering dusk. Frodo, ever curious, had been thinking about the mysterious guest his uncle had mentioned in passing.

"Gandalf," Frodo began hesitantly, "do you think she'll come? The one Uncle Bilbo spoke of... the queen from Dracagoth?"

Gandalf puffed at his pipe, a thoughtful expression crossing his weathered face. "I believe she will, Frodo. (Y/n) is not one to turn down a friend in need, even for something as simple as a birthday."

Frodo looked at him with wide, intrigued eyes. "What was she like? Uncle Bilbo told me bits and pieces, but never the whole story. He said she fought with him against Smaug, but... she sounds almost like something from a legend."

Gandalf chuckled softly, the smoke from his pipe curling lazily in the air. "In many ways, she is. (Y/n) is no ordinary queen. She was once a commander in a much darker time—before she turned her back on darkness and forged her own path. She's as fierce as she is noble, and I would say even now, there are very few in Middle-earth with her strength."

Frodo's brow furrowed, his mind turning over Gandalf's words. "And yet she helped Uncle Bilbo... why?"

"Because, Frodo," Gandalf replied, his tone taking on a more serious edge, "she understands the power of friendship. And though her past is shadowed, she knows well the value of standing by those she cares for. That loyalty runs deep in her veins."

They walked in silence for a moment, Frodo absorbing Gandalf's words. His mind painted a picture of this mysterious queen, a powerful figure who had once stood beside dark forces, only to turn away from them. "Do you think... we'll need her help again?" he asked quietly.

Gandalf's eyes glinted in the starlight as he turned to Frodo, his expression unreadable. "In times of peace, we do not often think of such things. But if there ever comes a time when darkness stirs again, I would not doubt that (Y/n) will be among the first to stand against it."

Inside Bag End, Bilbo placed the tea tray on the table with a bit of a clatter, still flustered from (Y/n)'s unexpected arrival. He poured the tea with shaky hands, muttering under his breath about never expecting such a royal guest in his simple hobbit hole.

As he handed her a cup, he looked at her, a wide grin spreading across his face. "You haven't changed much, have you?" he said, his voice filled with warmth. "Still the same (Y/n) I remember from all those years ago."

She smiled, taking the cup gently in her hands. "I could say the same for you, Bilbo. Though... perhaps a bit more gray at the edges," she teased, her tone light and playful.

Bilbo chuckled, patting his head as though to smooth the stray tufts of gray hair. "Aye, well, age does that, doesn't it? But I must say, I never thought you'd come to my birthday party. I assumed you had far more important matters to tend to."

(Y/n) leaned back slightly in her chair, the warmth of the tea spreading through her hands. "Nothing is more important than reconnecting with old friends, Bilbo. And besides, it's not every day I get invited to a hobbit's 111th birthday."

Bilbo's eyes sparkled with joy. "Ah, well, you're in for a treat! The food's already being prepared, and the ale's some of the finest in all the Shire!"

They spent the next hour reminiscing about their journey, sharing laughter and memories. The years may have passed, but the bond between them had not diminished. As the evening drew on, (Y/n) felt a deep sense of contentment settle over her. For the first time in many years, the shadow in her mind seemed distant, pushed aside by the warmth of friendship.

As (Y/n) sat in the cozy comfort of Bag End, she couldn't help but feel that this peace—this moment of calm—was fleeting. Though Bilbo's laughter filled the room, and the Shire seemed as peaceful as ever, a part of her couldn't shake the feeling that something was on the horizon.

Something dark.

But for now, she allowed herself to enjoy this moment, to live in the present, and to reconnect with the old friend she had missed dearly. Little did she know, this visit to the Shire was only the beginning of something far greater—a journey that would lead her to face the very shadows she had fought to escape for so long.