the year a compass, your body the needle
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the hunter's heart, the hunter's mouth by Roselightfairy
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
19 Feb 2021
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Summary
This is the hungry season – the season when the days lengthen at last and the animals venture forth from terrorized hiding places to begin reclaiming their rightful home. The season when the evil things that haunt the wood lose the near-unchecked freedom of the long winter nights, when the elves can at last slacken their patrols and their wariness, when they dare again to venture forth and hunt, and sing, and feast –
The time of the Enemy is ended at last, but Legolas still knows this season in his blood. The sun is setting, the snow is melting, and he is alive and free – and hungry.
Series
- Part 7 of Finding a Voice: OCs and Extras
- Part 1 of the year a compass, your body the needle
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frost faces westward; ochre in the east by DeHeerKonijn for Roselightfairy
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
20 Nov 2021
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Summary
The air was thick with pectin, and the kitchen staff (that they wove between in search of wine and cheese) were so focused on their work of cleaning and coring and blanching that Gimli himself was nearly bustled indiscriminately into the assembly line.
Legolas had laughed - laughed with his amber eyes from his Silvan mother - and tossed him a peach.
“Careful,” he said. “Empty hands are put to use around here.”
And so they are, and so Gimli’s were that night, and every night after. Not just with work - though Gimli was happy to help where he could - and not just with hobbit-plentiful meals, hot and simple and heavy.
There is a particular way about Legolas in autumn, after all.
Series
- Part 2 of the year a compass, your body the needle
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your arms a winter windbreak by Roselightfairy for DeHeerKonijn
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
20 Nov 2021
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Summary
“Well?” says Gimli playfully, and arches his back against the bed. His body is a feast, spilled out over the bedcovers, the sort of glorious arrangement only an enchantment could conjure up. For a moment, Legolas wonders if he is waiting to be fished out of the border river – for even still, there are days he cannot believe his fortune. But no dream has ever felt so real as this. “Will you not come to join me?”
It feels wrong to do so – more dangerous than forbidden, as though he dare not take his attention away from those shuttered windows lest the shadow-foes conjured by his memory stretch their tentacles inside to seize him – but how can he refuse? The long nights of winter are not a danger any longer; his mind can remember it even if his heart cannot, and his husband lies waiting for him, and how can Legolas resist?
Series
- Part 13 of Finding a Voice: OCs and Extras
- Part 3 of the year a compass, your body the needle