Lonely Dragon {Legolas x Reader}

The Council of Rivendell

The council chamber hummed with tension as Elrond's voice rose, gathering the council's attention.

"Strangers from distant lands... friends of old," Elrond began, his gaze sweeping across the assembled gathering. "You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite...or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate...this one doom."

The weight of his words settled heavily on all in attendance. Frodo sat amongst the council, eyes wide as he took in the gathering of free peoples. Around him sat elves, dwarves, and men, their faces somber with understanding of the threat they faced. (Y/n) sat to the side of Gandalf and Legolas, her posture relaxed, though her gaze was fixed and steely, particularly when it shifted toward one council member in particular: Boromir.

Elrond's voice rang out again. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

With hesitant steps, Frodo rose and moved toward the stone plinth in the center. His small hand trembled as he placed the Ring upon it, the deceptively simple gold band gleaming in the morning light. He returned to his seat, casting a wary glance at the heavy silence that had taken hold of the room.

Boromir's face shifted as he watched the Ring lying on the plinth, realization striking him hard. "So...it is true!" His tone grew eager as he continued, an almost fevered determination flashing in his eyes. "It is a gift...a gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring?" His gaze scanned the room as he spoke, as if seeking confirmation. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held 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!"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, her expression clearly unimpressed by Boromir's grandstanding. She leaned back, arms crossed, as Aragorn answered with a firm but steady voice, "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone—it has no other master."

Boromir shot him a sharp, dismissive look. "And what would a mere ranger know of this matter?"

At once, Legolas stood, his face proud and voice unwavering. "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Boromir's face turned to one of disbelief, his eyes widening as he stared at Aragorn, recognition dawning. "Aragorn?" he said, quietly, as though testing the name. "This...is Isildur's heir?"

Legolas nodded. "And heir to the throne of Gondor."

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably. "Sit down, Legolas."

"Gondor needs no king," Boromir sneered, before his gaze returned to the Ring, his fixation clear. (Y/n) narrowed her eyes, observing him with a mixture of irritation and caution.

"Aragorn is right," she interjected coolly, her voice cutting through the room with a resolute finality. "You cannot use it, Boromir. This Ring does not serve any of us."

Elrond nodded, his voice grave. "You have only one choice...the Ring must be destroyed."

Gimli, eager to prove his mettle, suddenly leapt to his feet, raising his axe high. "Then what are we waiting for?" he bellowed as he rushed toward the plinth and swung his weapon down with all his might.

A blinding crack filled the chamber as the axe shattered upon contact, splintering into pieces. The Ring lay undisturbed, unharmed by the attempt. Gimli staggered backward, his face a mixture of shock and awe, while Frodo clutched his head, wincing at the sharp vision of the fiery Eye that had seared into his mind.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin," Elrond said, his tone resigned yet firm. "Not by any craft that we here possess. It was made in the fires of Mount Doom, and 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 this."