The Hobbit & Lord of the Rings

Platonic Beorn X F!Shifter!Reader

warning: character death

* has also been posted in my one shot book on wattpad (user: -incalescent)

•••

"Hey, [Y/N]," Nori grunted, inclining his head towards you. "Why don't you shift into your birdy form and see how far back the orcs are?"

The company muttered in agreement, and though Bilbo didn't say anything he was glad the question was directed towards you instead of him, since he just knew that Gandalf was going to suggest that he did it. Besides, it would be much harder for the orcs to spot a small sparrow than a hobbit.

You sighed, air whooshing out of your nose in exasperation. "Fine," you relented, earning a pat on the back from Dwalin, nearly sending you sprawling forwards from the force. You glowered up at him, pouting slightly.

You're admittedly a tiny little thing, which went hand-in-hand with being able to shift into a sparrow. You stood a good few inches shorter than Bilbo (and quite a good bit smaller), which was cause for worry in the company, but their concerns were put to rest after seeing your extensive skill with your twin swords.

You stepped behind a large tree and shifted, your clothes dropping to the ground as you flew back to the company, landing on Gandalf's shoulder and tweeting into his ear before flying off. Ori went behind the tree and gathered up your clothes, tucking them into your bag, which Fili took from him and shouldered.

You landed on the branch of a tall tree, and watched as the orcs raced off. They were a few leagues away from the company, but it wouldn't stay that way if you dawdled too long. A low growl reached your ears and your feathers ruffled. A large bear stood a little ways away from you, on an overlook, watching the orcs with its fur standing on ends in anger.

You took off in a flurry of feathers and landed back on Gandalf's shoulder, chirping frantically in his ear.

"What is it? What's she saying?" Gloin demanded, the company echoing his words.

"The orcs are a good league or two away, but she says there's something else out there." Gandalf relayed, earning a rumble of confusion and concern in response.

Gandalf turned his attention back to you, tutting as you hopped anxiously around on his shoulder. "Tell me," he said. "Did it take the form of a bear?"

You chirped an affirmative response into the wizard's ear.

Gandalf then told the company about a place the company could take shelter in.

You flew ahead of the company, tweeting wildly as you led the way to the house, the dwarves, hobbit, and wizard hot on your feathered tail.

You landed on Kili's shoulder and twittered anxiously as you waited for them to open the door to the large house.

It opened and the company filtered in, immediately whirling around to slam and bar the door against the humongous bear on the other side. You flew up through the rafters and out through a window that had been left slightly ajar, not bothering to stay and listen to Gandalf's explanation.

You watched the large bear retreat into the woods, and you relaxed slightly, settling yourself down for the night, confident your company was safe inside the large house. You tucked your head under your wing and drifted off into a light slumber.

You awoke the next morning, startled at the sound of an axe chopping wood.

You twittered nervously flying around the house to see a very large man chopping wood, his back to you.

You watched Gandalf and Bilbo step out, hesitantly approaching the large man. You flew back into the house, flying around Ori and Fili's heads, twittering nervously.

"[Y/N]! Wondered where'd you gone off to!" Kili cheered. "You better shift back. Gandalf wants us to meet that Beorn man—who lives here. Your bag is in that stall over there."

You flew over, shifting back as quickly as you could, practically panting from the effort, and quickly redressed yourself running out to join the rest of the company, watching as they walked out in pairs to be introduced to Beorn.

Soon it was just you left, nervously telling Thorin to go out ahead of you.

"[Y/N]! Come out," Thorin ordered at Beorn's gruff question of:

"Are you the last one, then?"

You nervously stepped down, your head ducked shyly as you clasped your tiny hands behind your back. At the resulting silence, you peeked up through your lashes at the large man who stared unabashedly at you, presumably because he was astounded by your small size.

"Is this another halfling?" Beorn asked, looking to Gandalf.

The grey wizard shook his head, gesturing for you to walk over to stand beside him and Bilbo as he chuckled. "No, no. [Y/N] here, is a shifter as well."

Beorn's eyes widened, and he set down the axe he had been holding defensively before him as each member of the company stepped out of his house.

You looked up at Gandalf, just as shocked. As well. What did that mean? Was Beorn a shifter, too? It would explain his large size...

"You're the bear!" You exclaimed in realization, blushing in embarrassment at yourself immediately after.

To your surprise, Beorn laughed. "Yes, I am. What about you, Little One? What is your other form?"

Still blushing, you reached to shyly tuck your hair behind your ear. "A sparrow."

"A bird shifter?" Beorn pondered. "Your kind was rare among our species, even long before we were taken and exterminated."

You nodded solemnly at his words.

Beorn turned to Gandalf, glaring. "Why have you brought her along? She is tiny and fragile. An easy target! She could be killed!"

Gandalf stammered for a response. "W-well she is a dear friend of mine, and had insisted upon joining us! I could hardly say no, she is quite capable of handling herself. [Y/N] is quite the swordswoman—very lethal with her twin blades, indeed."

Beorn harrumphed in response, turning to look down at you once again.

Later, after Beorn had prepared a meal for the company, you sat at the now-empty table, dwarfed (pun intended) by the large chair you sat in.

"You and I are the last of our kind," Beorn spoke, his rumbling voice filling the heavy silence.

You fiddled with your fingers, nodding. "Two of a kind. Sort of."

Beorn managed to crack a smile.

"Little One," he started, sitting across from you. "It would ease my worry greatly if you would stay here with me, instead of going into Mirkwood."

You furrowed your brow. "Worry? You worry for me after you've only just met me?"

"For a long time, I had thought that I was the last of the shifters. Now that I've met you, I feel less lonely. Watching you leave will be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life," Beorn said, voice laced with a solemn sincerity and worry.

"I can not abandon my company after coming so far with them, after being this close to the end. After the journey's end I will return, I can promise you that," you spoke, hoping to ease the bear-man's mind.

Beorn nodded reluctantly. "I will hold you to that promise, Little One."

•••

You no longer knew if you could keep your promise to Beorn.

The Battlefield was far too much for you to handle - people would trample you to death as you were far below their eye line. Save for maybe the dwarves, but you knew the orcs wouldn't think twice about crushing you under foot. You're ribs are already bruised from an orc who blindsided you and kicked you in the side.

You clutched your aching side as you stumbled behind a small rock formation.

You looked to the skies as you heard the screeching of the Eagles, and relief filled your body at the sight of the large bear shifter you now called your friend leaping off the back of one of them.

You took a deep breath and shifted into your sparrow form, heading as swiftly as you could in the direction of the large bear, who was bowling over orcs by Ravenhill as if they were nothing more than twigs scattered on the forest floor.

You twittered anxiously as you grew closer, gaining Beorn's attention.

His large bear head turned towards you, and he grunted excitedly as he recognized you, even in his shifted form.

You were mere feet from him,

so close.

And then

pain.

A loose arrow had struck your side and your wing, sending you spiraling downwards to the ground. You shifted mid air, crying out in pain. You crashed into the hard, rocky ground, stars dancing in your eyes and pain blossoming all over your body.

You heard the bear roar mightily, the sound echoing throughout the ruins and plain.

You weakly tried to raise yourself up, but collapsed, grunting in pain as your head collided with the rocky ground again.

Your vision was blurry, but you could make out the shape of a large man hovering over you, felt his large hands on your face, your abdomen; assessing the damage.

There was a gaping wound on your side from the arrow, and Beorn could see black ooze smeared on your skin. It had been a morgul shaft. Poison. Your small body was no match for the strong orcish poison - it was likely it had already spread too far for any healer - elf or wizard - to draw it back out.

Blood oozed from the wound, winding down the crevices in the rocks in small streams. The wound on your arm was in a similar state.

"Beorn," you whispered, hand reaching weakly upwards. He clasped it tightly - yet gently - in his own gargantuan hand, enveloping it completely.

"Little One," he murmured. "It will be fine, Little One."

You smiled weakly up at him, a tear dripping down the side of your face. "You are lying, my friend," you breathed out, wincing at the effort. "How bad is it?"

Beorn smoothed your messy hair back from your sweaty face. "It was poisoned, Little One. I can already see black veins on your neck."

You chuckled darkly. "Bad, then?"

A tear slipped from Beorn's eye. "Very bad."

You breathed in, the breath then escaping you in a harsh fit of coughs, blood staining your teeth.

Beorn shifted you so you were leaning against him instead of the hard, rough ground; your head resting in the crook of his elbow. He had no idea what to do. You'd be choking on your own blood soon.

He looked up, looking around desperately for the wizard, or anyone who would help. But there was no one. They were all engaged in battle a ways away, and none would care enough to help them when so many had died already. What was one more casualty to them.

Then he spotted the hobbit attempting to climb the rocky ridge.

"Halfling!"

Bilbo's head snapped over to the two shifters, his eyes widening as he changed course, running over as quickly as his large feet could carry him.

"Find the wizard, the dwarf healer, an elf—anyone. Find help."

"Beorn." You protested, voice hoarse as you reached upward for his face. He caught your weak hand in his own.

"I will not let you die, Little One," he growled, chest rumbling.

You smiled weakly, eyes fighting to stay open. "No one...will get here...in time, My friend," you spoke. Your words were quiet, yet they pounded unforgivingly at the inside of Beorn's skull.

He shook his head, refusing to accept that. "I must try! There may be athelas around here..."

But you were surrounded by rock and dead grass.

"Please, Beorn...just hold me..."

Your breath rattled in your lungs, your mouth stained with the blood your lungs forced out in hacking coughs.

Bilbo slipped to his knees as he watched you, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Sobs escaped Beorn as he watched you struggle for your next breath, your body going tense and trembling in his arms.

Bilbo's hand covered his mouth, turning away.

"It is alright, Little One," Beorn muttered to you, voice shaky and wet with tears. "It is alright. You can go. You fought bravely."

A tear escaped your eye, and one of Beorn's own dripped from his face and onto your cheek.

Finally,

finally

you relaxed in Beorn's hold, eyes slipping shut into a permanent slumber.

Hello! I know it’s been a while since I posted anything and I apologize for being so inactive! I was in such a slump. So, as an apology, I have 2 one shots for you guys! I hope you enjoy!

*this one shot has also been posted in my one shot book on wattpad under my username -incalescent

Legolas x Dwarf!F!reader

•••

You subconsciously shifted closer between your older brothers, your head tilted back to take in the great forest before you. Unbeknownst to you, your brothers looked to each other from over your head, brows furrowed in obvious worry. They shifted a bit closer, hands gently gripping your shoulders in a protective manner.

"I don't like it," you said, nose scrunching in distaste. "There's something wrong with this forest."

"Yeah, there's elves in it," Gloin muttered, crossing his arms.

You followed your uncle into the forest, Fili and Kili on either side of you the entire way through so far.

Your head was spinning, and you felt drowsy. You slumped over onto a root of a giant tree, trying to keep yourself awake as the company started arguing amongst themselves.

"Quiet!" Thorin demanded, resulting in an immediate silence. "We're being watched."

Your brow furrowed, head tilting to the side. You didn't seem to notice as Fili and Kili came to stand beside you, hands on their weapons as they looked around, peering into the trees.

But they came from above—giant spiders.

You jolted forward as one jabbed you in the back with its venom, a soft yelp escaping you as you fell to the forest floor.

"[Y/N]!"

Your brothers' voices echoed in your head as everything went black.

You awoke to the sensation of falling, branches and twigs snapping into you as you made your descent to the forest floor, your vision obscured by a thick webbing that seemed to be cocooned around your entire body. Spiders, you remembered, fighting to free yourself.

The webbing was peeled from your face and light filtered in. Your brothers stood above you, peeling the webbing from your body.

"C'mon [Y/N]! Fight!" Fili shoved your sword into your hand and turned to fend off a giant arachnid. You clambered to your feet, sending your sword into the head of a spider that got too close.

Your head was much clearer now, you noticed, helping a bunch of the company pull the legs off one spider. Much clearer to you than before that the company had been captured by the spiders.

You'd stabbed your sword through several more arachnids by the time an elvish arrow had pierced through the head of one of the spiders, the elven guard finally making an appearance.

You had gotten separated from your brothers in the fray, and craned your neck to look around for them when you were sent sprawling onto your back by a spider. Your sword was knocked a good foot or so from your reach, and spider crawled over you, pincers snapping threateningly in your face as a cry escaped you.

"[Y/N]!" You could hear your brothers calling for you, fear laced in their voices.

Your fingers just grazed the hilt of your sword, and you made a mad grab just as the spider lunged downwards.

Your sword pierced through its head seconds before an arrow was embedded in it. You were gasping for breath, clambering out from under the giant dead spider and whipping your sword from its head and whirling around to face whoever had shot the elvish arrow.

A tall elf with straight, white-blonde hair and sharp blue eyes stood before you, aiming his notched arrow between your eyes.

•••

Legolas was caught off guard for a split second.

He could have easily mistaken you for an elleth, with your defined features, regal beauty, and lithe build. But your rather short height and larger ears suggested otherwise. You're a dwarf.

"Drop it," he demanded in a low voice, eyes never leaving yours.

Hesitantly, you lowered your sword to the ground, and Legolas slung his bow back over his shoulders and returned the arrow to his quiver all in a single, swift movement. He moved forward, grabbing your shoulders—not as roughly as you had expected, you noted—and led you back to the company.

Your brothers' and uncle's shoulders sagged with relief at the sight of you uninjured.

"Hands off of her, you filthy elf!" Thorin snarled, glaring at the elf prince.

You winced, almost imperceptibly (except to Legolas), at your uncle's harsh words. After all, the elf prince had tried to save you. He would have succeeded if you hadn't been so quick.

All the same, the elf prince begrudgingly obliged, removing his hands from you.

You were all shoved into cells in the Elf King's dungeon, and you angrily kicked the bars to yours, sliding down the wall until your bum hit the ground, legs stretched out in front of you.

You passed the time by humming a quiet tune to yourself, unknowingly lulling a few of the other dwarves to sleep in the cells across from and beside yours.

"What is that song?"

You looked up, startled, at the elf prince standing over you, casting his shadow into your cell. You could still make out his bright sapphire blue eyes in the shrouded light.

"Just...a small tune my mother used to sing me and my brothers when we were dwarflings."

"What is it called?"

You paused. Why did he want to know? Why was he even talking to you in the first place?

"It never really had a name...it's just a silly little tune." You brushed it off, thinking he wasn't really interested.

"Would you...sing it for me?"

Did I just ask her to sing for me?

"You want me to...sing it?"

Legolas blinked. "Yes. If you'd like. It's just... that was a rather nice tune."

You were a silent for a long moment, thinking.

He thought the silence meant you weren't going to, and he felt silly for even asking. For even stopping by your cell, for even coming down here in the first place.

As he started to turn away, your soft voice broke the silence.

He turned to look at you, watching you as you sang. You weren't looking at him, but instead at your feet, stretched out in front of you.

Your song awoke something in Legolas.

He felt like he could suddenly see the world in a new light.

Your song came to an end, and Legolas found himself hesitant to break the peaceful silence that followed.

But you didn't share that hesitance.

"Why did you come down here? I mean, why did you stop to speak to me?"

Your bright eyes flashed up to meet his and Legolas swore he forgot how to breathe for a moment. Not that he would ever let you know that.

"I...don't know," he said, before turning and briskly walking away.

•••

"They'll be down a dwarf soon enough," the orc gloated, Tauriel's blade pressed to his fat neck. "We stuck the little female one with a morgul shaft."

Legolas' eyes widening didn't escape his father's notice.

Legolas had never been happier to see an orc beheaded.

Thranduil sent Tauriel away and turned to his son.

"Whatever you feel isn't real. I will not allow you to fall for one of those cretins."

Legolas has said nothing, opting to turn away from his king and walk out of the room.

Tauriel followed him into Mirkwood that night, joining him on his mission to Laketown.

"You want to save her. The dwarrowdam. Why?" She pressed, following him as they leapt across roof tops.

"She...makes me feel something...something I never thought I would feel." Legolas muttered, not discussing it any further with the elleth.

Tauriel just smirked knowingly.

Screams from a few houses down caught their atttention, and they rushed off, leaping into the house to find four dwarves and two human girls fending off some orcs. Legolas almost smirked as he watched you pelting one with nearby potatoes.

The orcs were disposed of, and Legolas turned to where you lay.

You had collapsed onto your back, a sack of flour beneath your head acting as a pillow. A sheen of sweat covered your forehead, and your eyes were clouded over with a feverish haze. You were trembling quite harshly, your teeth chattering.

His eyes trailed down your body, to where your hand was clutching your thigh, a bandage stained with dark, almost black, blood wrapped around it.

Just then, another dwarf had ran up the porch steps, stopping just before the elf prince, clutching athelas in his hand.

He snatched it from the shocked dwarf with the funny hat and rushed over next to you, starting to treat your wound.

"You cannot be him..." he heard you mutter as he chanted an elvish healing spell.

He felt his brow furrow in slight confusion.

"He is far away...walking among the stars, out of reach...beautiful and graceful...You cannot be him. He is my saving grace...my angel..."

Your eyes slipped shut and you fell into a peaceful, feverless sleep.

•••

Azog's just as horrific son, Bolg, was relentless.

And you were getting tired.

You had long since ushered your brother, Kili, into safety, and picked up a sword, facing the horrendous orc.

He had knocked you onto your back a few feet away, your sword slipping out of reach. He lumbered towards you, a sick grin stretched across his ugly face. He raised his sword above his head, ready for the kill. You closed your eyes, bracing for death.

But the blow never came.

Your eyes flew open and relief flooded you at the sight of the golden-haired prince who had come to your rescue, yet again.

He managed to push Bolg over the side to gain some time as the orc tried to find a way back up to you, and the elf ran to your side, helping you up. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Better, even, now that you're here," you grinned, and he grinned back, kissing your forehead.

Bold pulled himself back over the side just as Legolas pulled away. You and him stood side to side, weapons at the ready as Bolg charged forward, wildly swinging his large sword.

He may have been outnumbered, but his strength more than made up for it.

Bolg threw Legolas against a stone wall before turning to you, running his sword through you without an ounce of hesitation. He grinned maliciously, pulling you closer before roughly pushing you off his sharp blade. You collapsed backwards, eyes staring blankly at the grey, cloudy sky above you.

"No!" Legolas roared, his anger giving him the strength and speed he needed to behead the tall orc.

Once he was sure he was dead, Legolas ran to you, lifting your head off the cold, hard ground, and shifting you so your head rest against his bicep and your legs crossed diagonally across his lap.

You were unable to speak, left fighting for your breath.

Legolas rocked you calming my back and forth, whispering sweet nothings to you as crystal tears dropped from his eyes.

With a shuddering breath, Legolas bent down to press a kiss to your soft lips.

"Goodbye...meleth-nin," he whispered, sliding two gentle fingers over your eyes to close them. He clutched you tightly to him, crying into your sweet-smelling hair.

He looked up at the sight of movement in the broken archway. His father stood there, in his glimmering armor.

"Ada...if this is love...I do not want it," Legolas pleaded. "Please - take it from me. Ada. Please."

A tear slid down Thranduil's cheek at the sight of his son so broken-heartened.