[Published: 02.02.2021]

Thanks to Starksundeaddaughter for requesting this! I hope you enjoy! Also, I'm sorry I haven't been very active! I've just been a bit busy, but hopefully I will be writing more soon. Also, I've finally published my BBC Merlin fanfic, Crimson Queen, so go check that out if that interests you! Hope you all have a lovely day! Xx

Also...maybe check this hilarious prank on Elijah Wood; I've not laughed like that in a LONG time😂

https://youtu.be/IfhMILe8C84

Her heart was pounding. The world around her was dead, deceased, destroyed. There was little joy to be found, and no beauty to gaze upon. It had been decimated, sunken as ashes to the ground. Her hands wound around herself, holding herself tightly. She feared she too would fall to the grave in such a grim place. (Y/N) hadn't known such a wasteland could exist. The world she had grown up in was filled with emerald forests and gleaming rivers; the beauty was in abundance. But here...there was nothing. There was only death, only blood, and only distraught. She looked behind her, trying to find a path out of the dystopia- but it was a maze of shadows. She had no choice but to push onwards.

Through the dying brambles and the crooked branches, over the greying leaves and ashen ground, she found her way carefully through the wilderness. The fauna seemed undead- deceased, but still...listening. Whispering. Beckoning. Let a magnet, her heart was drawn back, deeper in the delinquent brush and away from the outskirts. But (Y/N) stayed strong- she stayed out of harms way, following logic rather than attraction.

Her feet suddenly halted, as she beheld something most unexpected. Beyond the debris, there was an empty, dreary clearing, spanning for miles without seeming to end. There was only a tower; a castle. Grimy, old and stony, but it was a somewhere to settle at least. Her face was lighted by a smile. This nightmare will be over soon, she thought, stepping forward and out of the decrepit brush.

Her feet were in agony. She had been walking for hours, and it felt like the muscles in her feet were swollen and bruised. She hobbled feebly over the emptiness, huffing in exhaustion. She hoped there was a bed in the castle; and a fireplace; and some water. The dryness of her throat could rival any desert on the face of the planet. (Y/N) held herself upright, trying to push past her fatigue.

It felt like she had thousands of miles left till she could reach it- but then the castle was right before her. She blinked, thinking it was a hallucination after the day she had had. But her fingers touched the brass doorknob; colder than ice. Her hands ran over the timber of the door, feeling the ripples in the wood under her skin. She pushed gently and the door opened. 

The warmth of fire embraced her, and light fell upon her face. Rows of candlelight illuminated the hall, shadows wreathed in gold dancing along the walls. "Hello?" she called out, "Is anyone here?" She tried stepping forward, but only slipped to her feet. With a groan, she lifted herself to her knees, trying to brush the pain away. She was safe here; there was no point wallowing when she finally had the time to recover.

Pushing herself up, she retreated into a drawing room, where she removed her worn, dirt ridden shoes and moved forward to light the fire. She barely even reached the logs, when sparks flew and a flame sprung up. She gasped in awe, as the heat swarmed around her. (Y/N) stumbled back into the armchair, sighing as the soft pillows enveloped her. It had been so long since she had been able to rest any part of her body. It felt almost therapeutic to merely sit and breathe.

When morning came, she woke up in that same armchair, finding nothing but cinders left from the fire. She stretched, yawning at the ceiling. Her eyes drifted around the room- it was so much more kinder in the morning sun. There wasn't an ominous shadow that loomed over it; it was free from the clutches of darkness.

Creek.

Floorboards. Shifting. Upstairs.

Creek.

Slow footsteps. Calculated, intent steps taken with purpose.

Creek.

You need to get out of here, (Y/N) thought with a racing heart. When she had called out last night, no one had answered. She had thought she was alone. What creature could be lurking up the stairs, waiting for her? She didn't want to stay around to find out.

Her feet ached still, but she could do nothing about it. Stepping cautiously, she reeled around the chair and towards the door. The hall had been as empty as last night; it was whiter, brighter, but the sound of footsteps made her jolt. They were louder now, more imposing. They sought to accuse her, to frighten. (Y/N) couldn't bare to look back- she feared what creature it might be.

Her hands gripped onto the doorknob, and she twisted. The door creaked, but did not open. She pulled harder as the footsteps came closer. The door didn't budge; it seemed glued into place. She tugged harder, till her face was red with exhaustion.

Then a point of cool metal pressed against her back.

Her heart stopped. She thought, surely, that she'd die in this moment. That darkness would take her vision, and all would fade. But the point did not dig into her side. It barely caressed her back, it just lay there as if it belonged there.

"Who are you?" a gruff voice asked.

"...I... I'm from a village in the north! Please, my home was burnt by orcs, I've been walking for days, I...I only wanted a place to stay. I mean you no harm!"

"Turn."

She flipped around, leaning back on the door as she faced the other. He was a little shorter than she- she suspected he was a dwarf. He held a silver blade in his hand, the point aimed to her heart. His face, though there was something gentle in his eyes, was fierce and unforgiving. There was a mercilessness to him, but also a sense of experience in him. He'd seen things that he'd never dare utter again, but he spoke it in each look and mannerism. He was haunted, but he was past it all. It clung to him, yet he had relinquished it long ago.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I... I'll leave. Now. I won't come back."

He sniffed, looking her up and down. He was melancholic about her state; such sights reminded him of times in his own past. He pulled back his blade, sheathing it. His gaze, though still hard, eased. He did not look so frightful.

"What's your name?"

"(Y/N), sir."

"Don't call me sir, I'm not your king."

"I'm sorry." (Y/N) bowed her head.

"If you are to leave here, (Y/N), where will you go?"

"I... I'm not sure. There aren't any other settlements nearby."

He licked his lips. "Then you'll stay here."

"But I wouldn't want to intrude!"

"You already have by stepping onto my land." He stepped back, his hand indicating back to the drawing room. "If you really have nowhere else to go, I will permit you to stay longer."

She drew her hands back behind her skirt. "And if I refuse?"

"That's your choice. But know my intentions are not malicious. If you choose to stay, I will not be a bother to you."

Her eyes narrowed in scepticism, but there was an ease in his voice that made her want to believe him. He seemed ferocious with his bulky exterior, but there was a sense of kindness deep in his eyes. She looked down at her feet- one day's rest was not enough for them to heal. When she looked up, she hid all doubt and fear, nodding without a second thought.

Weeks turned to months, as (Y/N) found herself growing accustomed to the beautiful castle. There was something so lively, so welcoming that she had failed to notice when she first stepped inside. She felt at one with this place. 

As each day passed, she became increasingly aware of the gazes that the dwarf stole of her. She'd smile at his shyness; he's always retreat. He'd shown her much kindness, and she had grown to admire him and the life he had built. Thought they rarely spoke, she could gather his character by the way he lived. He was somewhat humbled, but yet the lavish character of this castle stated his grandeur.

As the days became longer, the two found themselves drawing closer, the rise and fall of the sun beckoning them closer. They had not realised their cheeks were the colour of roses that fateful night, when he asked her to dance. He was gruff when he asked, but it was almost as if he was pleading. Like he didn't expect her to say yes.

That night, she descended onto the floor of the ballroom in a golden dress, and took him by the hand. He did not look so intimidating in gold and blue. As they waltzed, their hearts drew closer. When the music stopped, they did not halt. 

When they grew tired, he took her to the balcony, looking out onto the gardens. He exhaled, clearly anxious.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, "would...would you be happy here? With me?"

Her smile was the only confirmation he got, before she embraced him in a tender hug.

"Yes," she said with a smile.