Lonely Dragon {Legolas x Reader}

Reflections of the Past and Future

The night in Lothlórien was eerily still, the silver light of the stars filtering softly through the towering mallorn trees. In a secluded clearing, a pedestal stood, carved like the branches of a great tree, its surface supporting a shallow silver basin filled with water that shimmered with an otherworldly glow.

Galadriel moved gracefully around it, her white gown trailing over the grass, a silver jug in her hands. Frodo followed hesitantly, his breath shallow as he gazed upon the basin with trepidation.

"Will you look into the mirror?" Galadriel asked softly, her voice a whisper carried on the night breeze.

Frodo hesitated, shifting nervously. "What will I see?"

Galadriel poured water into the basin, the rippling surface catching the moonlight and glowing with an ethereal luminescence. "Even the wisest cannot tell," she murmured. "For the mirror shows many things—things that were, things that are... and some things that have not yet come to pass."

Frodo swallowed hard and took a small step forward, peering cautiously into the glossy surface. At first, he saw only the reflection of the night sky, but then the water began to swirl, the stars bending and twisting until a vision took form.

The water shifted. A horrifying sight unfolded before him—the Shire in flames. Smoke curled into the sky, thick and suffocating. Hobbits—his people—were rounded up by monstrous creatures, dragged from their homes, their faces twisted in terror. The ground was scorched, the lush green fields replaced with ash and ruin.

"No," Frodo breathed, a tremor in his voice.

The image twisted again, morphing into something different—something even darker. The battlefield of history unfurled before him, but it was not one he recognized.

A woman stood at the center of the vision, clad in dark armor that gleamed beneath a blood-red sky. Her face was shadowed beneath a dark hood, but her piercing eyes burned with cruelty and dominance. The banners of Sauron rippled behind her, and before her, an entire village cowered in fear.

Frodo's heart clenched in horror as he realized who it was.

Y/n.

But not the woman he had seen in Lórien, not the one who fought beside them now. This Kira was a ruthless, merciless, commander of darkness that struck fear into all who stood before her.

"Now you will know fear," her voice echoed through the vision.

A man stood before her, trembling but defiant. "We don't fear you or your master!" he spat, though his voice wavered.

Y/n tilted her head, amusement flickering across her face before she turned slightly to one of the orcs beside her.

"Shoot him."

The twang of a bowstring rang through the vision, followed by a sickening thud. The man crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes still full of defiance.

Y/n's lips curled into a smirk. She stepped forward, her armored boots crunching over the dirt as she surveyed the gathered villagers, who shrank away from her cold gaze.

"Anyone else?" she asked smoothly, her voice filled with chilling amusement.

The villagers cowered, their hope extinguished in an instant.

Frodo's breath hitched, his stomach twisting in revulsion.

No... no, this couldn't be... this wasn't her. Not now.

The vision swirled, and suddenly, the battlefield was gone, replaced by the murky waters of a great river. A man stood at the edge, his face pale with fear. Heavy stones were bound to his wrists and ankles, their weight to drag him down, sealing his fate.

Isildur.

Frodo's eyes widened. He had always been told that Isildur had been corrupted by the Ring, that it had betrayed him. But this... this was different.

And there, standing on the shore, was Y/n once more.

But this time, she was no commander. This time, she was the executioner.

Her voice was calm, yet deadly. "If you do not do as I say, your wife and child will not live to see another sunrise."

Isildur looked at her, his face full of resignation and sorrow. He closed his eyes, his shoulders trembling before he turned toward the river.

And then he jumped.

The water swallowed him whole, the stones pulling him deeper and deeper until he vanished into the abyss.

Frodo gasped, stumbling back from the mirror, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"No," he whispered. "That's not who she is... not anymore."

Galadriel's soft voice broke through his panic. "The past cannot be undone, nor can it be forgotten."

Frodo turned to her, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "But she changed," he insisted, his voice shaking. "She isn't that person anymore."

Galadriel gazed at him with knowing eyes, full of wisdom and sorrow. "Perhaps not," she said gently. "But darkness lingers, Frodo Baggins. It never truly vanishes—it waits, silent and patient, for the right moment to resurface."

Frodo clenched his fists. He had seen what the Ring had done to Boromir. He had seen the way it whispered in the shadows, how it reached into the hearts of even the strongest among them.

Could it still have its claws in Y/n, too?

Or worse—had it never truly left her?

He looked back at the mirror, at the rippling water now returned to stillness. The images were gone, but the weight of them pressed down on him like a stone.

Galadriel stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You have seen much, Ringbearer. Now you must decide what to do with what you have learned."

Frodo swallowed thickly, his mind swirling with doubt.

And for the first time since leaving Rivendell, he wasn't sure if he truly knew all of his companions.

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A/N: Okay I feel like I should explain, so I kinda had the scene from EPIC the Musical stuck in my head when coming to this scene - "Get in the water" and I could image Kira so desperate to get the ring away from the weakness of men. But she can't just take it. She made Isildur sink and shot arrows in his back after to make it look like he was "betrayed"

I don't know, let me know what you think. I am trying to add her backstory in bit by bit.