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LotR: Strong Silent Types


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Title: Strong Silent Types

Author: Niki

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Fellowship of the Ring, Two Towers – Not cannon. It deviates from the story. Sorry.

Pairings: Aragorn/Arwen, Aragorn/Elrond, Legolas/Haldir

Summary: The Fellowship is starting and illness is more prevalent than the menfolk would have you know….


Mankoi naa lle sinome? – Why are you here?

Lle tyava quel? – Do you feel well, father?

Kela. Amin autien rath. – Go away. I am going to bed.

Manka lle merna – If you wish

Amin anta est - I need rest

Amin weera – I agree



As the group of men, dwarves, elves and hobbits argued on, things started to dull out. Elrond noticed as Gandalf was unable to control the group. The elves were obviously upset that the dwarves had even been invited to the meeting, and much more that they had to cooperate with them as if they were equals. The dwarves were busy making sure that they got their fair (and a little extra) due, and were completely untrusting of the elves. The men wanted the ring. Elrond could see it in their faces – all except Aragorn. He could see the curiosity in the rangers eyes, but not longing. The hobbits were hoping to be seen as part of the crowd, but they were being even more overlooked than the dwarves – presumably because of their proper manners versus the dwarves obnoxious way of doing things. Around and around the argument went until Gimli had enough.

Frustrated the dwarf brought his mighty weapon onto the ring, making in clang out in retaliation. Elrond winced as the noise shot through his head like a bolt of lightening. His field of vision went bright, and then dimmed again as the scene laid out before him.

“The ring cannot be destroyed by any mortal weapon!” he stated, a bit too loud to be proper. His unelvish tone caught everybody’s attention, as he continued on instructing them on how the ring must be destroyed.

The silence that followed was almost as deafening as the clang of the ring had been. It was Aragorn who spoke first, and thus the Fellowship was formed – with the addition to two hobbits that had not even been invited to partake. But, he had dealings with the hobbits in the past, and he knew that they would be loyal to Frodo and to the cause, in ways that most beings could not. His dealings with the hobbits, in the past, had shown him that their child-like concepts of the world made them have less of an angle when it came to their dealings within it.

As the group disbanded, Lord Elrond took his leave privately. He had only sniffled when there was so much commotion around him that nobody would notice, but now his head felt hot and congested. His throat also felt parched and he knew, as he had known during the Fellowship meeting, he was becoming ill. Luckily, the Fellowship would be leaving Rivendell within a few short days, and then he would be able to suffer in peace…mostly.

“Ada?” Arwen’s soft voice called to him.

He turned abruptly, and saw her rushing towards him.

“Mankoi naa lle sinome?” he asked her harshly. He could hardly believe the words as they came out, but he regarded them as his true feelings, all the same. He stood in the hallway, waiting for her to depart so that he could retreat into his room.

She paused, and ceased coming closer. “Lle tyava quell, Ada?” She looked at him through concerned eyes. She only knew him to speak in such a manner if he was angry or ill. She could not think of a reason for him to be angry. However, the overabundance of stress he was under due to the reemergence of the One Ring could certainly cause his spirit the amount of unrest that it could take to fall him.

He looked at her with tired eyes. “Kela. Amin autien rath.” He shivered both with cold and with exhaustion. He could see the hurt in his daughters eyes, but he would not relent. While he would generally show her the compassion she had come to expect from him, he could not take the risk of another seeing him weakened.

Arwen bowed her head respectfully, “Manka lle merna.” She watched him turn and walk away. She felt her breath catch, as she realized how truly ill he must be, to be as moody as all that.

Elrond turned the corner. He could see the doors to his bed chambers. He felt his breath hitch. “eh – heh.” He forced the tickle back, way back. But, it only caused his head to throb harder. “Heh-kexxit!” Hard and wet the sneeze rushed out of him. He caught it on the cuff of his sleeve. His head swam and he paused until his vision regained focus.

“Lord Elrond,” a deep voice came from the shadows across the hall, “Lle tyava quell?”


Elrond looked up and saw the shape of a man, leaning against the wall. But, even with his keen sense of vision he could not make out who it was. But, his senses told him that he knew the intruder well. “You need not hide in shadows for me,” Elrond said, with his most eloquent voice.

Aragorn moved forward, but did not leave the confines of the shadows. “Lle tyava quell?” he repeated.

“Amin anta est,” replied Elrond, wearily, showing the weakness he dared not show his daughter.

“Amin weera,” responded Aragorn. “May I approach?”

“You need not ask my permission, Estel. You already know the answer.” Exhaustion was taking Elrond at an alarming rate. He could see his chamber doors, but for the life of him, he didn’t know how he would get there before the illness overtook him.

Aragorn looked on, as Elronds pallor became even paler than it normally was. His eyes were tired in a way that he’d never seen them. “You are ill,” he stated plainly.

Elrond went to nod, but pitched forward with another sneeze. “Heh-kxxst!”

Deftly, Aragorn caught him. “Come, I shall take you to your chambers and make sure you rest.”

“Do not trouble yourself,” Elrond whispered. “I shall be fine.”

“I’m sure you will,” Aragorn said, leading him into his chambers, and closing the doors. “But, if you will not let Arwen assist you, at least allow me that honor.”

Elrond nodded. “Of course.” He dressed in his night clothes and slipped under the covers as Aragorn started the fire.

“She worries about you, you know,” Aragorn said quietly.

“I could say the same about y-yeh – ye-kexxhit! you.”

Aragorn bowed his head. Elrond was right, he knew. “Bless you. How did you allow yourself to become this weak?” he asked, trying to draw the attention away from himself. “Especially with visitors?”

Of anyone else, Elrond would not accept such questioning, but Aragorn was different. Aragorn understood the quiet pain of suffering, even when all around you could not detect it.

“You know of what I am concerned. You need not ask me questions to which you already know the answer.”

Aragorn digested that. “We are all concerned about the young hobbit carrying the ring. Frodo’s fate-.”

“You cannot be concerned. You were not there. You do not know what you are concerned about. Only from stories – kessht! Stories, which I –sskkixxt! *sniff* I have lived. And, I know what we had hidden from those stories.” He forcefully blew his nose, and Aragorn winced at the sound.

“You must trust us,” Aragorn responded, moving away from the now crackling fire, and sitting on the edge of the bed. “You must trust that we will guide Frodo safely to Mordor, where the ring will be disposed of.”

“Estel,” he said, suddenly sounding weary, “I know you will try. And Legolas will assist you. B-bu-hehkisst! But, the dwarf, and the humans – they are weak, and they will try to take the ring from Frodo. He yawned widely.

“Bless,” Aragorn said, smoothing out the covers. “My Lord, you are worrying about things that you cannot change. Just rest now. I will sit here and make sure none disturb you.”

Elrond nodded sleepily and drifted off.

He was still pondering the fate of the ring when he heard a faint knock at the door. He slowly opened it and smiled when he say Arwens’ eyes shining up at him. “Is he very ill?” she asked, in elvish.

Revealing neither his condition nor his concerns, Aragorn replied, “He is resting.”

Arwen nodded, and lowered her eyes.

He gazed at her and drew her chin up so that he could gaze into her eyes. “He will recover.” And with that he kissed her passionately.

They heard a wet Kessshitx! Come from within the chamber. “Feel better, Ada,” she said, and moved swiftly down the hall. Aragorn withdrew to inside the chamber.

“Why do you insist on breaking her heart?” Elrond asked, coldly. “Do you care nothing for her? And less, for me, to make me watch her pain?”

“I love her, my Lord. She is the glorification of all that I hold dear. And I have always cared for you – for a time, above all else. Why do you ask such things?”

Elrond groaned against the throbbing in his head. Must they go over this yet again? “You will be parted. You will break her heart – and mine.”

“And I will love you both still.”

“The time of the elves is ending, Ara-a-heh-eh-exhisst!” Elrond snapped. He grabbed his head as it throbbed and violently threatened to explode.

“Are you saying the elves are leaving?” Aragon asked in breathless disbelief.

Elrond said nothing, and continued to rub his temples.

“Adar?” Aragorn asked with a familiarity rarely used.

“Heh-kesskt! Eh-kisskt! Ksst!” Elrond pitched forward with each sneeze, but did not respond.

“I will not stop loving her. But, unto that fact, I will support her – and you – should the choice be made to leave,” Aragorn stated with conviction.

Elrond nodded weakly. It was the best he could get.



“Heh-ssssht!” Aragorn blew his nose for what seemed like the hundredth time. But, it did no good. He was congested within a breath of his life. “He-hah-exchoo!”

“Bless,” Legolas said dryly. “Do we need to rest?”

“Doe. There is doe time,” Aragorn replied gruffly. “You all keeping up alright?” Aragorn called behind him.

While Legolas was scouting ahead, he had agreed to take the lead. The hobbits stayed in the middle, and Gimli pulled up the rear. All of the hobbits called back some sort of affirmative answer. All except Sam, who kept his attention focused on Frodo.

“Sam? You alright?” he asked, expecting to hear the usual, ‘Yes, Mr. Aragorn, sir.’ He always got a chuckle out of the politeness, and feeling as stuffy as he did, he felt he could use the chuckle. But, instead Sam looked from Aragorn to Frodo with sad eyes, and said nothing.

Hours later, they bedded down for the night. Aragorn noticed that Sam had barely touched his dinner – quite the rarity for hobbits, who typically ate several meals a day. He also noticed that while the other three laughed and joked and told stories of old, he seemed to be far away – lost in thought. Aragorn waited for the other hobbits to doze off before confronting Sam.

“Hey-choo! *sniff* Hey,” he said quietly, sitting down on a log, next to Sam.

“Hello,” Sam whispered.

“Is something bothering you?” Aragorn asked quietly.

Sam cleared his throat and muffled a cough, but said nothing.

Aragorn cocked his head. “You know, anything you tell me, will stay with me right?”

Sam shook his head.

“This isn’t where you ought to be. You ought to be at home, in the Shire.”

“No,” Sam stated flatly. “I ought to be supporting my best friend through the worst time of his life. And that’s what I’m doing.”

Aragorn looked away briefly. That hadn’t been where he was going with that, at all.

“What’s her name, Sam?”

Sam took a deep breath to answer, but wound up succumbing to a coughing fit instead. Aragorn placed a protective arm around Sam. When the coughing subsided, Sam answered, “Rosie.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Beautiful as nature on a crisp spring morning, before even the birds have woken up, and the sun is just creeping over the mountainside and spraying its rays on the new day.”

Aragorn had seen that sunrise before, and it certainly was beautiful.

“She’ll wait for you,” Aragorn said, instinctively.

Sam sighed heavily. “She didn’t even know she was supposed to. I never thought to tell her. I didn’t think that we’d be gone this long.” He took a quivering breath. “Have you ever loved, Mr. Aragorn, sir?”

Now it was Aragorns’ turn to take a deep breath. “I – hesshoo! have,” he said and quietly tended to his nose.

“Did she wait?”

‘The time of the elves is ending,’ he heard Elrond, in his head. “She still does.”


“Where are they, Aragorn?” Gimli growled. He had been wary to trust a human, but Aragorn seemed so trust worthy. Now the Fellowship had broken and a very important hobbit and a very important ring were missing.

“They have gone on alone,” Aragorn answered, again.

A tickle rose in Gimli’s throat. “A-Kuff-a-kuffkuffkAWFF!” He wheezed, but stood his ground. “Where in the KAWF ring?”

“It is with Frodo. Are you ill Master Dwarf?” Aragorns’ eyebrows knit together with concern.

“It is nothing,” Gimli grumbled. But, it was something, and he knew it. He had felt himself becoming ill ever since Sam had fallen ill. Oh, he had pretended not to notice – the muffled coughs, the extra helpings of water, but not so much on the food, the way Sam would pale out and then stop to look at something on the ground. He was no fool; he had seen someone try to hide their illness before. Sam had surprised him though. He made it all the way through his cold and no one was any wiser – not even his hobbit brethren, who seemed so acutely aware of everything else going on around him.

Sam had been lucky – his cold had settled in his chest and stayed there. Gimli, on the other hand, didn’t think he was going to be so lucky. He already felt the tickle creep from his throat to his nose.

The trio continued on. Gimli trying to keep his illness hidden as well as Sam had, but unfortunately this was not the case. “Hah- Ah-CHA!” He sniffed wetly.

Legolas put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked pointedly.

“Just a bit of pollen,” he lied.

Legolas looked around. They hadn’t been pollen in the air in quite a while. “As you say,” he said nonchalantly and continued to scout ahead.

Gimli sniffed. The pressure in his head becoming a problem. He coughed a few times quietly.

“You are being awfully quiet, Master Dwarf,” Aragorn stated. “Are you sure you’re alright. We can stop if you need.”

“Bah-ah-AH-Akeshhew!” Gimli sneezed wetly and freely. The force of the sneeze surprised him, and he stood in place – dazed – for a few seconds.

“That would be a no?” Aragorn asked.

“I’ll be fine. Jus’ a cold.” He sniffed, but his head was too congested for it to help any.

“Alright then. Legolas!” he called up ahead.

“Doe, doe. Don’t tell the elf,” Gimli pleaded.

“Rest easy,” Aragorn assured him with caring eyes, as Legolas doubled back. “My apologies, but I am a bit worn out,” Aragorn lied. “Can we rest for a moment?”

Legolas looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Are you ill?”

“No, just tired. Too tired to be of any use should we go into battle.”

Legolas nodded, still confused, but said, “I’ll scout the area to be sure this is a safe place,” and was gone.

“Thang you,” Gimli said quietly, after he had left. “Heh-CHAA!”

“Bless. Do try to get some rest. We’ll say here for the night, and hopefully that will be enough time for you to get your strength back.”

Gimli nodded, and lay down on the ground. Although it was rough, it felt heavenly, as his eyes drifted closed and his body sought the rest that it needed.


Haldir sniffed as the elven troops marched to Helms Deep. He hadn’t been feeling well for a while – since he last saw his long time friend, and long time ago lover Legolas, to be exact. He could tell Legolas was feeling poorly, but only in ways only elves could tell: the slight pink of the tips of his ears, generally hidden by his golden flowing hair, the way he sniffed on every fifth intake of breath, the way he slept soundly, even when there was no reason for him to be that tired. But, he was surrounded by other creatures: men, dwarves, hobbits, etc. There was no way that Haldir could comfort him other than the way he had – and even that was pushing the limits.

He had seen Legolas move off from the rest of the group, and took his leave to follow him. His keen trained sense of hearing heard the, “heh-cha!” A wet sniffle followed by another, “Heh-ehk-sha!”

Quietly, as to not disrupt the nature around him, but loud enough for his friend to here, he said, “Legolas, lle tyava quell?”

Legolas looked at him quickly and a flush rose in his cheeks. Nobody was supposed to see him with his guard down. “I am well enough,” he replied, in elvish.

“Come here, my friend. None shall see you like this,” Haldir said, extending his hand.

Legolas shook his head. “But, you already have.”

“Tis nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to the best of us from time to time. Come to me. Don’t suffer in silence anymore than you need to.”

Legolas looked down. He felt his eyes grow heavy as he nodded his head in two short bobs. He walked to Haldir hesitantly. The two of them had been lovers once. But, that was a long time ago. And, while the feelings remained – at least on Legolas’ part – they had very different views of the world anymore, and Legolas was in no mood for a fight.

Haldir settled against a tree and held Legolas close to him. His body was as agile and warm as it had ever been. Haldir did not hide his views or his displeasure when Legolas decided to roam the world a bit before settling in. Mirkwood or Lorien was the place for him, not some castle in some treeless valley. But, Legolas wanted to see the world – the good, the bad, and fight for something bigger than himself. Haldir still felt it was folly, but knew that Legolas wouldn’t be up for such a conversation in his present state. Besides, Legolas needed refuge now. He needed a place to be safe and be himself. He didn’t need to be the strong, protective elf for anybody. And, he certainly didn’t need to feel attacked.

Legolas lurched forward. “Heh-Chisshssh!” he sneezed wetly.

Haldir sighed and pulled him close. “How long?”

“Three days.”

“And your companions have not noticed?”

“I’ve made it a point to make sure that they don’t notice. Heh-eh-Hep…” Legolas tried to hold it in.

“Release it, Legolas. You know you are safe here with me.” Haldir traced his tongue along the back of Legolas’ ear and up to the point.

Legolas shuddered and the sneeze rushed out. “Heh-Shessh!” Followed by its friends, “Heh-Chessh! Eh-Shesssh! Ep-Sheessh! Akiish!” Legolas blew his nose softly and slumped into Haldirs arms, feeling safe and secure for the first time since he’d last left.

Haldir shook himself out of his reverie as he remembered how short lived their escape had been. Now, he marched to Helms Deep with an exceptionally well trained Elvish army. Now, his nose was tickling.

As the sight of Helms Deep grew in the distance, Haldir could smell the fear. He knew that those who defended Rohan were not soldiers. They were farmers at best; elderly and children at worst. He shuddered. He couldn’t think of a more barbaric culture – well except for orcs, but they were different. He was there because his King had ordered it. And, secretly, he was there because Legolas needed him to be. He sniffed strongly and continued the march.

Helms Deep opened their gates to them willingly – almost joyfully. Obviously, they had not been expected. He strode in, breathing in the chaos around him. “Hesshiff!” he sneezed suddenly into a cupped hand. There were many pungent odors around him, and they upset his delicate nose greatly. But, he was still an elf, and there was an image to uphold, as the men around him looked on in wonder. It was as if they had never seen an elf before. He forced himself to smile at a small child who gave him a wildflower. But, when he knelt down to ask her where her King was, she scampered away.

When he continued to not see the King or anybody who looked in the least bit competent he took matters into his own hands. “You!” he shouted pointing at the men to his left, “Ta-t-hey-ke the north tower. You! The souuth! Regent four, get up into those turrets!” he commanded his men. He pawed at his nose subtly. He was certain that the King of Rohan should be in charge of this. But, since the King was nowhere to be seen, and the opposing forces could arrive any minute, he wasted no time. “Hesischiff!” He sneezed quietly into his shoulder and went to follow his men to the high ground.

“Haldir!” he heard Legolas’ voice call. He paused.

Legolas rushed up to greet him, as did King Theoden, Aragorn, and Gimli. They disussed tactics and strategies for a short time and then Theoden went to ‘inspect the troops’. Haldir was affronted – his archers were in the best of shape and best of skill, of course – but he tried not to be insulted. He forced a smile and agreed to join him during the inspection. A hand on his shoulder held him back.

Legolas leaned in close. “You are ill.” It wasn’t a question.

“Only just. It is nothing.”

“A battlefield is no place for one who is ill.” Legolas spoke firmly.

Haldir chuckled at the situation. All around him men were coughing and sneezing. There were few who weren’t ill in this place, and several who were close to dying. And, Legolas chose his cold to be concerned over?

“Commanding the Lorien archers is my place. Would you rather I cowered in a cave like a dwarf?” He said ‘dwarf’ like it was a vile taste.

Gimli growled beside Legolas, but said nothing.

“I will remain by your side,” Legolas promised.

Haldir shook his head, gently. “You will go where is needed, and we will meet at the end.” With that, he turned and joined the King for inspection of his archers.

Legolas watched him go, and couldn’t keep the look of concern out of his eyes.

“We’ll all keep an eye on him laddie,” Gimli said graciously.

Legolas nodded, watching King Theoden and Haldir walking between rows of men and elves. They looked so formal and distant standing next to each other, but they knew they were there for one purpose and one purpose alone… survival.


The stomping and hollering of Orcs silenced Helms Deep. It froze the men who were not soldiers in their tracks. It made the men who were soldiers complete their tasks at four times the pace they had been. The rest of the civilians were put inside the caves. The soldiers walked up and down the halls and archways speaking inspirational words, and trying to diminish the fear in their own hearts, as well as the hearts of the men they spoke to. Haldir too spoke to his men, but they were instructional words. He knew that the battle was foolish – but was insistent on making it out alive, with as many of the archers as possible.

Legolas cast a few fleeting glances at Haldir. He had started out keeping his promise, and stationed himself within Haldirs ranks. He saw Haldir sniffle a few times, and sneeze once. But, he was intent on surviving the battle. Afterwards, he could take care of things as needed.

The rain his just after the battle began. Legolas lost track of everything and everyone around him. He heard Haldir shouting when to fire their arrows, but eventually he didn’t even hear that. Chaos ensued outside, and inside Helm’s Deep.

Climbing ropes were being cut, not nearly fast enough to stop the confronting army from scaling the wall. A battering ram was being used to take down the great wooden door. The opposing army was relentless, and soon they were inside Helms Deep.

The elven line broke, all archers going where they felt they were needed. Legolas scoured the battle looking for his companions. He saw Gimli holding his own. He found Aragon in a bit of trouble, but another soldier was able to assist. Haldir shot an arrow and ran down one of the many stairways. The rain had soaked him to the bone, and yet his cold was kept at bay. Or not.

Legolas saw Haldir head snap forward for three unrestrained sneezes. That was so unlike him, Legolas couldn’t help but to go to him. If for nothing else than to take him into the caves. Before he could reach him however, Haldir was struck in the back with an axe and fell to his knees. From his angle, Legolas couldn’t tell if the blow had been to the head, or to the back. At top speed, Legolas hurried to him. Then he saw it, Haldir lifted his head and sneezed twice and fell into the mud.

Killing a few orcs along the way, Legolas fell to his knees beside Haldir. He brushed Haldir’s long wet hair out of the way and looked into his deep brown eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked, panicked.

“I am – hesshoo!” breathed Haldir.

“I thought he hit your head,” Legolas explained as he helped Haldir get to his feet.

“No,” he answered as he shook his head. “Back – Mithril…” His voice was breathy, and it was obvious that he was no longer good to be in the fight.

“Just stay by me,” Legolas said protectively. “I will get you to safety.”

Haldir put a firm hand on Legolas, making him pause. “Don’t tell the dwarf,” he ordered.

“I would never,” Legolas assured him as he lead him back to the caves.


After the battle had ended, and Legolas had reunited with Aragorn and Gimli, he went into the caves looking for Haldir. It didn’t take very long to find him.

“Hessissh!” Haldir sneezed wetly, but still stood in front of the remaining archers, making sure that their wounds were treated as properly as possible.

“And?” Legolas asked as he came up behind him.

“Too many lost. Too many dead. Too many wounded for a battle not our own. But, we are alive, and we have given Soromon something to consider. Hesshiff!” He sniffed wetly. None of the other elves said anything to bring attention to his illness, and he was grateful. But, Legolas put a supportive hand on his back, and for that he was even more grateful. Legolas knew how he responded to battle. And, more importantly, Legolas knew how to respond to him.

“Come, let’s walk,” Legolas suggested.

“If you insist,” Haldir responded.

When they had gotten outside, they noticed an empty ransacked room. They stepped inside and closed the door.

“How do you fair?” Legolas asked.

“I am well,” Haldir responded, formally.

Legolas took a step closer. “Now honestly. How do you fair?”

Haldir took a shaky breath. “Hah-Chiff! Heshhsissh! Akjablishh!” His sneezes were wet and draining. He blew his nose into his handkerchief and looked at Legolas with pleading eyes.

“Come,” Legolas said quietly. “Do not suffer alone any longer than you need to.”

Within seconds Haldir was in Legolas’ arms. His body shook with fever and fear. The adrenaline that had kept his body going through the night, was now waning off, and he felt lost and vulnerable.

He coughed lightly. “I think you gave me your cold,” he said trying to make light of the situation.

“You think?” Legolas responded, sarcastically. Haldir was burning with fever, just as he had been the night before. But, he would not sleep – not until there was a secure place for his archers to do so as well. So, he held him tightly and let him rest on him as much as he needed to.

“Lego-Lego-lass,” Haldir said suddenly. His voice was shaky and his hands gripped Legolas strongly.

“What is it?”

“I’m gonna,” and he did. Before he even got the words out, his legs gave way. Legolas lead him to the floor and held him tightly.

“Rest here,” Legolas commanded.

“Don’t leave,” Haldir requested.

“I would never,” Legolas promised. “But, there are a few things here that might make your resting a little more comfortable.” And with that he found a small towel and a light piece of fabric. He folded the towel and put it under Haldir’s head, and covered him with the cloth as if it were a blanket.

“Thank you. Please stay while I do a healing trance. I do no-noht – Heh-Issh! wish for someone to think I’m dead and burn my living body.”

“Of course,” Legolas assured him and looked over him protectively while he performed his trance.

Mod Note: Merged story ~Mute

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Great fic. I've been following it on the board, but it's nice to see it all in one place.


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  • 5 years later...

omg i LOVE LOTR!

This was REALLY GOOD! LOVED IT! I giggled slighty evily at the thoughts of a sicky legolas and Haldir 5.gif hehehe

Someone needs to write a fanfic for "the hobbit" I will love them forever! xD

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