Lonely Dragon {Legolas x Reader}

The Journey Begins

The golden light of dawn spilled across Rivendell, casting long shadows on the pathway as the Fellowship of the Ring began their journey. It was a solemn yet hopeful start as they trekked out of the valley, the majestic peaks of the Misty Mountains looming in the distance. 

As the day wore on, they traveled through steep valleys and crossed rushing streams, the chill of the mountains biting at their skin. Gandalf led the way, occasionally glancing back to ensure the group stayed close, his expression serious but calm.

"We hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days," Gandalf instructed, his voice carrying a hint of gravity. "If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there, we turn east, toward Mordor."

(Y/n) cast a thoughtful glance at the Misty Mountains, and her hand instinctively moved to her sword hilt, feeling the weight of their journey press more heavily upon her.

As dawn broke over the rugged hills, a light mist lingered around their camp. Sam knelt by the fire, carefully stirring a small pot of tea. Across the clearing, the metallic clink of swords drew attention. Aragorn and Boromir were giving Merry and Pippin their first lessons in swordplay. (Y/n) watched the hobbits with a hint of a smile, amused by their determination, especially Pippin's.

"Get away from the blade, Pippin! Light on your toes...good," Boromir instructed, parrying Pippin's clumsy strikes. "You must react, not think."

Sam couldn't resist a wry comment from beside the fire. "That shouldn't be too hard for him!"

(Y/n) chuckled softly, and even Aragorn cracked a smile as he urged Merry to keep moving his feet.

Pippin flashed a grin at Merry, wiping his brow. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

(Y/n) walked over and ruffled Pippin's curls. "You're doing well, Pippin. One day, you'll be a force to reckon with—just stay out of the path of your own sword."

This earned her a mischievous grin from Pippin, his spirits lifted by her encouragement. He gave her a quick nod, promising to heed her advice.

Meanwhile, Gimli had cornered Gandalf, gesturing enthusiastically toward the mountains to the east.

"If anyone were to ask for my opinion—which I note they have not—I'd say we're taking the long way around. We could go through the Mines of Moria," Gimli insisted. "My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome!"

Gandalf, however, shook his head, a troubled expression on his face. "No, Gimli. I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

The tension was broken by a burst of laughter. Pippin had tackled Boromir to the ground, dropping his sword and lunging at the man with unexpected fervor. The others laughed as Boromir mock-groaned beneath the hobbit's weight.

While the others laughed, (Y/n) turned her gaze to the sky, her smile fading. Beside her, Legolas' eyes narrowed, his sharp vision catching a dark shape flitting across the heavens. The faint scent of smoke on the wind stirred an instinctual unease within her.

"What is that?" Sam asked, noticing their tense expressions.

Gimli squinted at the sky and shrugged. "Nothing...just a wisp of a cloud."

But Boromir, who had risen to his feet, shook his head with concern. "It's moving fast...against the wind."

Legolas' eyes sharpened. "Crebain from Dunland."

Without hesitation, Aragorn's voice cut through the dawning panic. "Hide!"

Boromir gestured urgently, his voice low but commanding. "Merry, Frodo, Sam—take cover!"

(Y/n) reacted swiftly, pulling Pippin close to her and drawing her cloak around them both as they crouched beneath an overhang, the dark fabric masking them from view. She could feel Pippin trembling, his courage dimmed by the ominous presence of the crows as they wheeled above, their shadows cutting across the landscape like daggers.

"Stay still, Pippin," she murmured, her tone calming. "They won't see us."

The Company held its breath as the regiment of black crows swept overhead, wheeling and circling with an eerie precision. The crows cawed and screeched, casting dark, restless shadows over the Fellowship, seeming to pause just above them before finally retreating, vanishing back to the south as abruptly as they had appeared.

The stillness that followed was heavy. Gandalf staggered to his feet, his face dark with concern.

"Spies of Saruman," he muttered. His expression was grim as he exchanged a look with Aragorn. "The passage south is being watched."

Gandalf straightened, turning to the others with a reluctant resolution. He gestured toward the looming peaks. "We must take the pass of Caradhras."

As night fell, the Fellowship huddled around a crackling fire for warmth. (Y/n) sat beside Legolas, who leaned against a tree, his eyes tracing the outline of the stars. Pippin, still a bit shaken from the encounter with the Crebain, settled down beside (Y/n), who offered him a comforting smile.

"They were horrible, those birds," Pippin muttered, casting a wary glance at the dark sky. "All feathers and beady eyes, watching us like we were their next meal."

(Y/n) chuckled, handing him a piece of bread from her provisions. "Not all birds are bad, Pippin. There are some whose eyes watch over the land with kindness."

Pippin brightened, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Like your kingdom, then? Are there birds like that in Dracagoth?"

(Y/n) nodded, a wistful smile crossing her face. "Yes. Dracagoth is protected by falcons who patrol the skies; they're loyal creatures, swift and sharp. They watch over our borders and bring news when needed."

Pippin's eyes grew wide. "I'd like to meet one someday."

"If we pass through Dracagoth on our way back," (Y/n) promised, ruffling his curls, "then you'll have your chance."

Pippin gave her a delighted smile, munching on his bread. It was moments like these, the quiet camaraderie and the light-hearted promises, that reminded them all of why they were fighting. Legolas watched her, his eyes warm with admiration. They had been through much together, but he knew that even in such dangerous times, she found strength in caring for others.

"Thank you for your kindness to him," Legolas murmured, his voice low so only she could hear. "The hobbits...they are far braver than I first thought."

"They are," she replied, glancing fondly at Pippin. "They're small, but their courage shines bright. Just as yours does." She turned to meet his gaze, a soft smile on her lips. The bond between them was strong, tempered by years and trust, and it was these quiet moments that solidified it further.

Legolas reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Together," he said softly, a promise in his voice, "we'll see this journey through."

As the night deepened, (Y/n) felt the weight of the days ahead settle over her. The company was bonded in purpose, united by a single goal, yet each step toward Mordor would test their strength and spirit. She glanced at Frodo, who sat quietly by the fire, his hand absently fingering the hidden Ring. For his sake, and for all of Middle-earth, she would summon every ounce of strength she possessed.

The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows, but in that moment, surrounded by her companions, she felt a warmth that reminded her of her purpose. The journey had only begun, and with them all together, she dared to believe that hope might just lead them forward.