The rocky terrain leading to Moria gave way to a small sheltered hollow, enough to shield the Fellowship from the relentless mountain winds. Twilight settled across the land, casting the mountains in shades of soft purple and dark gray. Gandalf, with his staff aglow to cast some warmth and light, called the Fellowship to make camp for the night.
The hobbits, weary and cold, huddled close to the fire Sam had stoked. They took deep breaths, relieved for a moment's rest before they had to face the dark depths of Moria.
Sam stirred a pot over the fire, pulling out a few treasured spices he had packed from the Shire to season their meal. "Nothing like a good stew to warm you up," he said with a small, tired smile.
Boromir watched Sam's preparations with disinterest, his gaze drifting to (Y/n) as she laid out blankets for the hobbits to sleep on. Pippin and Merry crowded around her, their faces marked by both excitement and apprehension. Frodo, though quiet, stayed close to her as well, his worry over the journey mingling with the comfort of her presence.
Boromir let out a low chuckle, drawing Aragorn's attention. "The mighty Queen of Dracagoth, Former servant of Mordor, setting blankets and tucking in hobbits," Boromir remarked, voice edged with sarcasm. "I must say, it's a different sight than what I would expect from a ruler with such a reputation."
Aragorn's brow furrowed as he shot Boromir a disapproving look. "Have care, Boromir. Not every ruler leads with fear and brute force. Compassion is not a weakness."
Boromir shrugged, unfazed. "Perhaps. Yet, I question the strength of anyone who deals so gently with things that seem... unimportant in times of war." He glanced at Frodo, as if the hobbit's small frame and the Ring's weight were somehow incompatible with courage.
(Y/n), catching some of Boromir's words, glanced over. She didn't flinch or respond to his comments but continued tucking Pippin under his blanket, smoothing down his cloak over his shoulders to keep out the night's chill. Her quiet defiance was answer enough, her refusal to be rattled by him more powerful than words.
Legolas, who had been quietly listening, spoke up in her defense, his voice calm but firm. "A ruler who can see value in the smallest lives is not one to be dismissed so lightly, Boromir. Strength is found in many forms, and (Y/n) has more than you realize."
Boromir scoffed, shaking his head. "Strength, perhaps, but I'm not convinced it's the kind we need. You'd forgive me if I reserve my faith for those who have shown real mettle on the battlefield."
Gandalf's piercing gaze fixed on Boromir, his voice sharp. "Do not mistake gentleness for lack of mettle, Boromir. The challenges she has overcome would crush even the bravest of Men. Your faith may yet find itself misplaced."
Aragorn nodded, his gaze softening as he looked back at (Y/n) comforting the hobbits. "She has earned her place in this Fellowship. And, perhaps, in the end, it will be her heart that strengthens us all."
Boromir fell silent, shifting uncomfortably. He held back further comments, but the skepticism in his expression lingered.
Meanwhile, (Y/n) turned her attention to the hobbits, her face softening as she tucked a blanket over Frodo. She could see the lingering fear in his eyes, and she leaned closer, brushing his curls away from his brow. "It's alright," she whispered gently, looking at each of them. "Tomorrow's journey will be hard, but you will not face it alone."
Pippin glanced up, his bright eyes reflecting his worry. "I'm not so sure I'll sleep tonight, (Y/n)," he mumbled, clutching his blanket tightly.
(Y/n) smiled, smoothing down the blanket over his shoulders. "Then perhaps I can sing something from my homeland to ease your minds," she offered softly, meeting each hobbit's gaze. "We have songs for those who journey far, songs to give courage and comfort."
The hobbits nestled closer, listening intently as (Y/n) began to sing. Her voice was low and soothing, the unfamiliar words lilting gently over them. The melody seemed to carry the essence of her homeland, a strength rooted in ancient forests and soaring mountain peaks, yet softened by the warmth of family and friendship.
Her voice rose, filling the night air:
Through shadowed woods and starlit skies,
Where rivers run and mountains rise,
In lands untouched by bitter war,
Your heart's true home lies evermore.
When fear and darkness cloud your sight,
When days grow cold, devoid of light,
Remember then, the strength you own,
Your steps will lead you safely home.
The hobbits, lulled by the soft beauty of the song, closed their eyes. (Y/n)'s voice, rich with emotion, carried them away from the harsh mountain cold and into the warmth of her distant land.
Legolas leaned back against a rock, watching her sing with quiet admiration, her voice resonating through the camp and wrapping the Fellowship in its embrace. Even Aragorn and Gandalf, hardened by years of travel and battle, felt the warmth in her song settle in their hearts. They exchanged a silent look, understanding that her strength lay not just in her power but in her heart—something that not even Boromir could deny.
As the last notes faded into the night, (Y/n) leaned down, pressing a gentle hand to Frodo's shoulder. "Sleep well," she whispered.
One by one, the hobbits drifted off, their fears calmed, for the moment, by the song of their gentle yet formidable companion. And as (Y/n) sat by their side, watching over them, the Fellowship settled into the quiet night, bracing for the trials they would face come dawn.
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Lonely Dragon {Legolas x Reader}
Fanfiction(Y/n) or The Lonely Dragon, a name that was known across Middle Earth. Feared....admired.....worshipped All she wanted was to be normal, but that wasn't the case. She was made to be a weapon of war, the spawn of Sauron himself. His plan B if the Rin...
