Blood of the Covenant [ Legolas x Fem!Reader ]

Chapter Thirteen 𐮛 Hope Quietus

Need help? Quelaag's voice echoed in her mind, making her jump but then sigh with annoyance.

"Must you sneak up on me so much?" She growled, and she could hear her cackling in response.

I didn't sneak up. I merely stayed silent till you were most vulnerable, so I could loudly interrupt your moping routine.

"Moping?! You think me a wuss?" She hissed in a hushed tone, hearing some shuffling behind the shelves.

Yes. You're the biggest wuss in Middle Earth. If not for me, you would have been turned into a meat pie. She could practically see Quelaag rolling her eyes as she spoke. Listen.
I have a trick. Let me take over for a bit. I promise I will behave. She said, her voice seeming like they were right beside her ears.

"OK... I trust you. Please don't make me mean," she sighed, closing her eyes.

I'll try, young one. She imagined Quelaag winking. She shook her head, fighting back a smile. Maybe having Quelaag as an occupant isn't so bad. She thought, finding their dynamic quite entertaining. She quickly rounded a corner, making sure no one was around before closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, feeling as though the world had sunk beneath her and pulled her into a dark place, where she could see through Quelaag's eyes in a window against the darkness.

"Rest up for now," Quelaag suggested, cracking her neck and back, before wiggling her finger on her left hand, then proceed to struggle with their injured hand. She groaned in exasperation, and forced her hand to clench, which [Y/n] grimaced at the sight of.

How are you not in pain? She asked in trepidation, and Quelaag let out a quick huff, with a slight smug attitude.

"Pain is not an issue for me. I've been trained since birth to endure it." She said, and as she relaxed her hand, it showed an improvement in grip strength. [Y/n] rolled her eyes and sat back, deciding not to stress herself too much since Quelaag seemed to know what she was doing.

So, since you were a baby, you've been trained like a warrior? Swords and all? [Y/n] mused, finding the thought of a baby in full-clad armour funny. Quelaag rolled her eyes and began to walk towards the training grounds, ignoring [Y/n]'s jabs at humour. As she watched, she felt more inclined to dig into Quelaag's past, since she's only ever read the Izalith traditions and customs from books, and had always yearned to hear them from a direct source. What was it like? You know... to be... she didn't know how to ask without sounding condescending or rude, but luckily Quelaag understood her quickly.

"Not as bad as you've heard. Yes, my mother has had a strong and glorious rule, but her treatment of me and her subjects was always fair," she whispered, avoiding walking too close to others so that they wouldn't hear her as she walked down the vast corridors and halls.

How did she treat you in particular? She questioned, frowning at Quelaag's enthusiasm for her mother. She would have thought that she'd see how tyrannous and unjust her rule was by now, given what they've gone through recently.

"Like any other. Of course, she would still give me her affections now and then, only when alone," she explained, as images flashed across her mind of her mother towering above her with a golden crown.

What were her affections like? [Y/n] continued to ask her questions, unable to stop her curiosity from growing each time she would answer. Quelaag groaned under her breath and didn't respond. OK, fine, I'll stop asking... for now. [Y/n] said, and Quelaag almost facepalmed.

As she continued down the vast halls and corridors, she finally came to an opening, where barracks and stables were stationed on the far left, indicating that the training ground mustn't be too far. Quelaag sighed, not exactly keen on going to see the pretty elf, and she was anticipating having to act like [Y/n], which was going to be a total switch from her usual element.