#catyo90

I ship you with Bilbo Baggins. 

thank you!

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

This is not a trope I’m very familiar with, I don’t think I’ve seen it really? I am intrigued though? it has some good potential - everything from increased intimacy to awkward reveals. I would feat it could be a little too ‘cutesy’ for me though.   

A gift for @im-lad-ris

The golden autumn leaves shimmered in the soft glow of the stars, casting an ethereal light over Caras Galadhon. You stood upon one of the high flets, the cool night breeze rustling through your hair. It was a peaceful night, yet your heart was anything but calm.

Your gaze wandered across the walkways that wound between the great trees of Lothlórien, and as if drawn by an unseen force, your eyes found him—Haldir.

There he stood upon the bridge overlooking a silver stream, his posture ever watchful, ever poised. The moonlight kissed his fair features, illuminating the sharp elegance of his cheekbones, the solemn curve of his lips. He turned his head slightly, sensing your presence, and when his piercing grey eyes met yours, time seemed to slow.

It was not the first time your gazes had lingered. Over the seasons, stolen glances had become something of a secret language between you. Each glance held more weight than words ever could—unspoken longing, curiosity, something deeper, something that neither of you dared to name.

Haldir bowed his head in a silent greeting before he continued his patrol. And yet, before he turned away, you saw it—the hesitation, the fraction of a moment where he, too, wished to stay.

-

Days passed, and the silent dance between you continued. When you crossed paths in the training glades, his eyes would trace your form, lingering on your hands as they strung a bow, on your lips as you spoke to another.

At the feasts held beneath the trees, he always took a seat nearby, though never quite beside you. But when the songs of old were sung, when laughter filled the air, your gazes would meet across the firelight, and it felt as though you were the only two among the revelers.

One evening, as you wandered along the edge of the great forest, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to see Haldir approaching, clad in silver and grey, his presence as steady as his aim.

“You walk alone at night,” he remarked. His voice, as always, was measured, but there was something softer beneath it.

“I find the stars speak clearer in solitude,” you replied with a small smile. “Do you not listen to them?”

He stepped closer, so near that you could see the faintest flecks of silver in his eyes. “I listen,” he said, his voice quieter now, “though as of late, my attention has been drawn elsewhere.”

Your breath caught. The space between you was so slight, yet it felt vast with the words left unsaid.

“Then tell me, Haldir,” you whispered, “where does your attention linger?”

For a moment, he did not answer. Then, with the utmost care, as if daring to shatter the moment, he lifted his hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers barely touched your skin, but the ghost of his touch sent warmth curling through you.

“Here,” he admitted, his voice just above a breath. “It lingers on you.”

-

What followed was a slow, deliberate courtship. He would find reasons to seek you out—offering to spar with you in the training fields, accompanying you on evening patrols, walking at your side. You, in turn, let your touches linger—brushing his arm as you passed, letting your hands meet when exchanging arrows, speaking his name with a softness that made him still.

One night, beneath the boughs heavy with moonlight, he brought you a single golden leaf, placing it in your palm with reverence.

“In the fading of all things,” he said, his fingers warm against yours, “this remains.”

You understood. Lothlórien, untouched by time, would one day diminish, as all things must. But this—what lay between you—this could remain, if only you both had the courage to embrace it.

And so, when he leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours, you did not pull away. Instead, you met him halfway, sealing the unspoken words in a kiss as soft as the whispering leaves, as endless as the stars above.

The stars above gleamed like shards of silver caught in the boughs of the trees. A hush had fallen over the elven city, the usual hum of whispered songs replaced by the quiet rustling of the wind.

-

You lay upon the soft bed of woven silk, wounded but alive. The battle against the encroaching forces of darkness had left its mark upon your body—a deep gash along your arm and a bruise blooming along your ribs. Though the healers had worked their craft upon you, the ache persisted, a dull reminder of the peril you had faced.

Yet even amidst the pain, your thoughts drifted to a pair of keen silver eyes, to a warrior whose presence had lingered at the edges of your life, always just beyond reach. The warrior who saved your life on the battlefield with precision in his blade and worry in his heart.

Your fingers traced the bandages wrapped around your arm as you exhaled softly, trying to will yourself to sleep. The glow of lanterns flickered from outside, casting gentle shadows across the room. The night was tranquil, yet rest eluded you. It was then, just as your eyelids grew heavy, that you sensed it—a presence at the threshold.

The rustle of fabric, a step so silent it might have been the whisper of the wind.

Then, his voice, low and smooth.

"You should be resting."

Your heart stilled for a fraction of a moment before resuming its rhythm, stronger than before. Propped upon your elbows, you turned your gaze to the doorway, where Haldir stood bathed in silver light. He had shed his armor, clad instead in the soft robes of an elf at ease, though his posture remained vigilant. His hair, pale as moonlight, cascaded over one shoulder, framing the sculpted planes of his face.

"So should you," you murmured, lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

A flicker of amusement ghosted across his face before he stepped forward, closing the distance between you. The scent of the woods clung to him—the crisp air of the trees, the faint traces of elderflower and rain-kissed earth. He knelt beside your bed, his gaze sweeping over you with careful scrutiny. It was not the impersonal look of a warden ensuring a soldier’s well-being, but something far more intimate.

"I wished to see how you fared," he admitted, voice softer now. "You fought bravely."

Your fingers twitched at your side, aching to reach for him, to brush away the worry that lingered behind his calm facade. "I had to."

"That it is. But I would not see you harmed again."

Your breath hitched at the quiet intensity in his words. "You cannot promise that, Haldir."

He exhaled sharply, as if frustrated by the truth of it. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out, your fingers grazing the back of his hand where it rested on the edge of the bed. His skin was cool to the touch, yet it sent a warmth unfurling through you.

For a moment, he did not move. But then, ever so slowly, his fingers turned beneath yours, twining them together in a grip so gentle it made your chest ache.

"Then allow me this," he murmured. "To stay with you a while longer."

You nodded, the unspoken longing between you settling into something quieter, something real. And as the night stretched on. The night deepened, and though the world outside remained hushed, within the sanctuary of your room, something shifted. The tension that had lingered between you and Haldir for so long could no longer be ignored. His touch, so careful at first, grew bolder as his fingers traced the length of your arm, skimming over the linen of your nightclothes with reverence.

"I have watched over you for so long," he whispered, his breath warm against your cheek. "And yet I have never allowed myself to want."

You turned toward him, lifting your hand to his face, your fingertips brushing along the elegant curve of his jaw. "And now?"

He exhaled slowly, his forehead resting against yours. "Now, I can no longer resist."

The first kiss was hesitant, a question unspoken. But as your fingers tangled in his hair and you pulled him closer, the restraint between you broke like a dam giving way to the river’s surge. His lips were soft yet urgent, his hands exploring the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine. He treated you as if you were something precious, something fragile despite the strength he knew you carried.

The layers between you fell away, piece by piece, until only skin remained—a contrast of warmth and cool moonlight. Haldir moved with the patience of a guardian and the devotion of a lover, reverent and unhurried, savoring every moment as if it were his last.

As the night stretched on, your bodies became entwined like the roots of the very trees—bound together in ways neither words nor time could sever. And when at last the world settled once more into quiet stillness, he held you against him, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin, as if memorizing every inch of you.

"I will always find my way back to you," he murmured, pressing a final kiss against your temple before sleep finally claimed you both.

-

The golden light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting soft patterns upon the floor. You stirred, warmth curled around you, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek grounding you in the present.

His arm was draped over your waist, his body relaxed in sleep. His silver hair tumbled across the pillows, catching the morning light like spun starlight.

You lifted your head slightly, watching the peaceful expression upon his face. He was beautiful like this, stripped of duty and solemnity, simply a man at rest beside the one he had chosen.

As if sensing your gaze, his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a softness rarely seen. A slow, contented smile curved his lips as he traced a lazy finger along the curve of your back. "Rest my love. I will be here when you wake."

You smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to his collarbone. "I would not wish to be anywhere else."

(Really missed the idea of a Ball room quest from DAI. So I thought what if I made up some for ya'll.)

Taash - They wear a more formal arrangement of fabric with multiple medals and jewels with a long blue cape to accent the body and arms. At first they are really uncomfortable, the idea of lavish food and drinks and having to be polite isn't really what the Qun or Lords of Fortune teach but they do love the jewels and gold around everyone saying how everyone in the room, be it friend or enemy, they are like dragons. They will fight tooth and nail to be at the top and smote away their competition. The stares from many women and men who find them attractive causes a smirk every time knowing full well what they are thinking. Rook being there helps, they are comfortable around them no matter what and loves it when Rook winks at them. The idea of dancing with Rook makes Taash blush a tad everytime the thought comes to mind.

Harding- She wears a similar garb to what the inquisition wore in orlais but with small stitching of her own and her hair down. Having worked with the Inquisition she isn't unaware of the game needed to be played since Leliana showed her the ins and outs of everything to look for. She stays near the balconies to keep an eye out from above, a birds eye view so to speak. She loves seeing Rook coming to her and sneaking kisses around the corner knowing all too well they both want to return to the lighthouse for private time. Dancing is a bit embarrassing for her seeing as the last few times she danced it was difficult to move along but Rook let's her lead but everytime Rook can they dip her, causing them to smile as the sounds of music echo on.

Bellara - She wears a combo of elven robes and her clans as well with her hair done into two smalle buns with her signature triangle accessories. She is super excited about meeting such well known scholars and researchers. Always answering and asking questions about human customs and their love of cheese which she seems to find everywhere she went. She loves the idea of dancing with Rook, so much so she will pull them onto the dancefloor and dances in her clans way. Both a delight and welcoming from all who witness the dance. Afterwards she is out of breath having enjoyed herself too much. After the dance she thanks Rook for bringing her to experience something new.

Emmerich - He wears a long green robe with bone like trims and small silver details of the human anatomy with a flower in his pocket. Having been self taught in manners and learned to honor all people politely he finds himself quite comfortable in the noble halls, basically follows the manners maketh men like style. He stays close to the center of the room drinking fine tea brought to him by Manfred who he has in special noble robes. Everyone is delighted by Manfred and his excitement. Rook is the one to ask Emerich to a dance, at first he's not confident enough, he wonders if the others around will judge for the age difference or even the idea of a necromancer finding any companionship, he finds Rook taking his hand and whispering sweet encouragement to him helps as the gentle tones of the songs block out the whispers of those around them.