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theworldsoftolkein · 1 year

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The Horn of King Helm Sounded by Breath Art The forces of Saruman, common Orcs and Uruk-hai, along with some orc-human hybrids (called "half-orcs and goblin-men" — which may have referred to or included the Uruk-hai themselves) and human Dunlendings, arrived at the valley of Helm's Deep in the middle of the night during a storm. Meanwhile, Legolas the Elf and Gimli the Dwarf agreed to compete, to see which one could kill the most orcs. The attackers quickly scaled over the first defence, Helm's Dike, forcing the defenders there to fall back to the fortress. When the Orcs were close, the defenders drove them back with arrows and stones, but they managed to get close to the wall after multiple charges. They attempted to break down the gate with a battering ram, but a sortie led by Aragorn and Éomer scattered the forces. The Orcs and Dunlendings then raised hundreds of ladders to scale the wall. Aragorn and Éomer repeatedly motivated the tired defenders to repel the Orcs coming up the ladders. However, some Orcs had crept in through a culvert which let a stream out of Helm's Deep, and while the defenders were busy with the assault on the wall, they were suddenly attacked from behind. This was repulsed and the culvert was blocked up under Gimli's supervision. However, the enemies re-entered the culvert and blasted a wide hole in the wall using an ambiguous explosive device invented by Saruman, a "blasting-fire". The defenders then retreated to the Glittering Caves, Éomer and Gimli among them. Soon Saruman's forces broke through the gate and gained entrance to the fortress. At this moment, however, the horn of King Helm was sounded, and a cavalry charge led by Théoden and Aragorn rode forth, followed by all the Rohirrim left inside. They cut their way through the Orcs and drove them back from the fortress walls. Both armies then noticed that strange forest had suddenly sprung up (actually the arrival of many Huorns) which blocked the escape route for the Orcs. Then Gandalf arrived on Shadowfax, with Erkenbrand and a thousand infantry — the remaining strength of the Rohirrim that had been routed at the Fords of Isen. They charged into the fray. The Dunlendings were so terrified of Gandalf that most of them dropped their weapons. The surviving Orcs fled into the "forest" of Huorns, where they were completely annihilated. After the battle, those Dunlendings who surrendered were given amnesty by Erkenbrand and allowed to return home (much to their surprise, since Saruman had told them that the men of Rohan would burn all survivors alive). The Rohirrim required that all hostilities cease, and that the Dunlendings retreat behind the River Isen again and never recross while bearing arms. Before they were freed, though, the Dunlending captives were put to work in repairing the fortress. Among the Rohirrim dead was Háma, captain of Théoden's personal guard and doorward of his hall (he plays a significant role in the previous chapter, "The King of the Golden Hall"). Háma had fallen defending the gate and the Orcs had hewed his body after he died, an atrocity that Théoden did not forget during the upcoming parley with Saruman. Gimli was wounded, but had killed 42 to Legolas' 41. The "forest" of Huorns had disappeared the next morning, and the Orcs had been buried in an earthen-works hill known as "Death's Down".#rohan#riders of rohan

#Aragorn #Orcs #urukhai #Rohirrim #Riders of Rohan #gandalf #gandalf the white #Theoden #theoden king of rohan #theoden king #dunlend #shadowfax #ford of isen #huorns #ents #éomer

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lcl-taste-tester · 4 months

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Finally getting through the lotr books after having been a huge fan of the series through the films for a long time is such a bizarre experience for a lot of reasons but the thing that's sticking out to me the most is how different the orcs are? Specifically how human they seem and how talkative they are. The conflict between the Uruk-Hai and Moria goblins is extended a lot and really fleshes them out and they have a whole back and forth with Aragorn at helms deep. It's much harder to buy into the sort of post lotr mindless evil type thing and as a lifelong orc/evil fantasy "race" lover it's honestly all the more disappointing that even this already pretty bad position got dumbed down to the point that no one blinked at orcs being barely above beasts in the films

#lilidottext #lotr #I have a lot of feelings about orcs generally but I really can't help but kinda root for them #and the dunlendings in this particular bit #also sorry in advance y'all this might be a lotr blog for a bit while I ride out this hyperfixation #not at all an uncritical one though

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rohirric-hunter · 1 year

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I do hope that they add like. Heritage specific questlines or dialogue or something now. Since all human heritages now have the same visual options, the only thing picking a heritage affects is your heritage title and I really would prefer for them to add more features to the game rather than take that one away. Not least because I've personally been waiting in eager anticipation for a Dunlending heritage and I deal with disappointment badly. But it's also something I've kind of wanted for a while now, ever since running Dunland for the first time with a Rohirric PC. There should be bonus dialogue for when people start getting super opinionated about things that affect the PC personally. It would also be fun to have more customized dialogue where characters recognize your history like what Beornings and Stout-axes get.

#lotro #if they just eliminate the heritage choice entirely and let you choose a title or give you all the titles i riot #also where are my tattoos ssg #why can only beornings have tattoos??? esp since tons and tons of npcs in game have tattoos #not very many bree landers gondorians rohirrim or dale landers fair #but tons of corsairs angmarim and dunlendings and since you can now make all of them quite convincingly... *taps foot impatiently*

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masterelrond · 2 years

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Further adventures in the Eastemnet and more handholding

#i love having my own little fellowship sometimes a family is a dunlending girl a rohirrim outcast and two random elves<3333 #ssg was so insane for nona and horn's storyline #the enemies to friends to lovers trope......... i eat it up every time #the handholding moment....... insane. insane!!!!!#i love third wheeling with corudan<33 and look at his little mittens he's soo cuuute #and i'm continuing my series of holding main characters' hands - i even gave legolas and éowyn a little flower<3 #lotro #lotro spoilers #lotr #nori disrupts air #horn #nona #corudan

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vakarians-babe · 9 months

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thought too hard about tolkien things again. going steadily insane.

#pls dont ask me to talk about the dunlendings the rohirrim and the druedain i will not be coherent #the only thing i can say is that the druedain and the dunlendings deserve far better than theoden #killing him for his interaction with ghan buri ghan

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thekingofwinterblog · 2 years

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One of my absolute favorite quotes from Tolkien is this one from The Two Towers, where Tolkien gives his opinion on men fighting against men.

"It was Sam's first view of a battle of Men against Men, and he did not like it much. He was glad that he could not see the dead face. He wondered what the man's name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would rather have stayed there in peace."

This is a line written by a veteran of the great war, the first world war, where you can so obviously tell that this is something he must have thought many a time in in the war, when he and his countrymen were fighting against the "Evil Huns" that Great Britain portrayed the German Empire.

But the fact is, that unlike World War Two, there was no big, evil against good in this conflict, at least not on the western front. It was a war between a bunch of very similar empires sending off an entire generation of young men to die for their imperial ambitions.

As Tolkien himself said "We Were All Orcs In The Great War", talking about how each of the sides invovled dehumanized each other to the point where their soldiers were encouraged to think of the other as pretty much non human scum, despite the fact that all the men involved had so many similarities, so many shared roots, and above everything else, a shared humanity.

It's one of the reasons why Tolkien in his own writing refuses to write the human wars as completely good or evil.

The men of Haradrim and Khand serves Sauron yes, but they are brave and valient men unlike the orcs, and as Tolkien himself put it, Aragorn's conflicts later in life with their post-Sauron leadership was a conflict between men, not a fight between the forces of good and evil the way war of the ring was.

They were not fundamentally different than say, the Rohirrim, or the men from Bree, or Erebor or even Gondor. Just men who had the misfortune of having to march to battle under Threat of force, or led astray by lies.

Similar story with the Rohirrim's conflict with the Dunlendings.

Tolkien made a point that whichever side had wronged one the most, and though the characters for obvious reasons side with the Rohirrim, the Dunlendings who invaded alongside Saruman's forces were not evil men who deserved to be cut down or crippled at the end, but men led astray with lies and threats, and an appeal to a greater cause, just like he was once upon a time to defend the empire he was born into.

Instead he emphasized the the virtue of Mercy when dealing with surrendering troops, as the Rohirrim ultimately spares the surrendering Dunlending army, and in the end let's them return home alive and disarmed.

Human sides of Tolkien's work are rarely portrayed as completely good, or completely evil when in confrontation with each other, only when put against Sauron.

Even Numenor, at it's worst stage of colonialism was not completely evil before the coming of Sauron, and on the other side of the coin, when you look at their history, it is very, very clear why Harad hates them to this day(In the days of old they were captured as slaves, and later used as human sacrifice).

The previous war between Dunland and Rohan was caused when Helm Hammerhand responded to an insult from the Dunlending leader who came as an envoy in his own home, and struck him so hard in the gut he died from it, breaking all the laws of guest and host to do so.

Their original conflict was caused by 3 sides, as the Dunlendings had moved into an area(Modern rohan) that belonged to Gondor against the Gondorians wishes, who then decided to give that land to the Rohirrim instead, failing to mention that someone currently lived there(Illegally or not), which in turn made the Rohirrim regard them as little more than brigands and thieves, occupying what they saw as Gondors(Now their land) lands.

It was an incredibly cynical power move from Gondor's steward, where he used his newfound allies to get rid of what he saw as a direct thorn in his sides, playing on the Rohirrim's trust in him and his people as the obvious "Good guys" they had just aided in war, to pit them against an entire people they had no history or quarrel with, and in turn have the Horselords drive them west out out into Eriador.

Which in turn caused a massive hate in the Dunlendings against the Rohirrim as foreign invaders, and a disdain to form in the Rohirrim against the Dunlendings as thieves and brigands.

When as two towers showed, they were both composed of human beings, worthy of mercy and compassion.

Just like all humans are.

#j r r tolkien #lord of the rings #tolkien's legendarium #humanity #war #wars between men #hard #khand #haradrim #gondor #gondorians #rohirrim #rohan #dunland #dunlendings

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eomer · 2 years

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#is it weird that I’m more scared of Warner brothers Rohan show than amazons rings of power #cause we have seen what wb did to the hobbit and it was…not great #amazon is playing with characters who’s personalities are vague at best and thus leaves more room #I’m also really worried about the show runners glorifying helm hammerhand over the dunk endings whos…lands were stolen in the first place by #gondor then rohan #DUNLENDINGS NIT DUNK ENDINGS #anyway #my only hope is that there’s a person who handled race issues in the dark crystal really well is also in this show #Anyway time to pirate

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gwaedhannen · 25 days

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I kinda feel like with how much Elrond gets depicted as the heir to Doriath or Gondolin or the House of Fëanor, or all or none of the above, we sometimes forget about his human half.

(or human 3/8ths, whatever)

On Balar, did he ever wander among the escapees from Dor-lómin, the fled from Brethil, the survivors from Sirion, learning their songs and stories and hopes and griefs? Did he find his childhood playmates, now grown? Did any survive? Does he remember them?

Did he ever stand beside his brother as Elros gave mighty speeches of unity and the strength of the Secondborn? Did he, in battle or in uneasy alliance, meet the descendants of those who betrayed Maglor and his kin, who enslaved Tuor and his kin?

Did he ever brave the moonless dark of Taur-nu-Fuin, seeking the ruins of Ladros or the mire that was once Tarn Aeluin? Did he ever wander the scorched plains and shattered encampments of Estolad? Did he see the Hill of Slain and guess which skeleton may have been more recent than the rest? Was another skeleton holding its hand, an arrowhead in its skull?

Did he grudge Elros the Bow of Bregor or Dramborleg or the Ring of Barahir? Did he think to keep relics for himself, if immortal memory could not suffice? Did he know the Bow's name?

In Lindon, did he befriend the Men who refused Númenor? Did he live alongside them for centuries as they lived and died? Did he seek out Dor Firn-i-Guinar, if it may have survived?

Did he find it?

Did he send letters to the West through Númenor, seeking the truth of Tuor's fate? Did he ask after the ancient legends and myths of the House of Bëor, now only remembered by Finrod Atandil? Did he befriend the ancestors of the Dunlendings, distant kin of the House of Haleth? Did he speak against the deforestation of Enedwaith and Minhiriath, their homeland? Did he welcome those who fled into Imladris, if they sought it?

Did he visit Númenor? Did its kings listen to his counsel? When did they stop?

Did he welcome Elendil as a kinsman, as a nephew, or as a stranger?

(I could go on into the Third Age but I think this is getting long enough already.)

#silmarillion #the silmarillion #tolkien #elrond #elrond peredhel #character meta #stormthinken

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lesbiansforboromir · 2 years

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ONCE AGAIN!! Lord of the Rings Online is essentially giving away it’s ENTIRE 13 years of content for free when redeeming the coupon FREEQUESTS2022 and so here I am again to PLEAD with you, if you are looking for extremely book-lore accurate narratives created within and around Tolkien canon, if you want to try what I genuinely call THE BEST Tolkien adaptation ever made, then make an account and redeem the code and give it a try!

This offer extends until OCTOBER 31st Boston time so it’s best to hop on it early because all the three current expansions (excluding Gundabad and the new before the shadow expansion coming out in november) are also reduced in the ingame store from 2995 points to 99 points, which are literally earnable within a few hours of normal ingame play. I cannot emphasise enough how easy 297 points is to get in this game in comparison to most other MMO currency systems.

Massive Dunlending cultural expansions! Orc narratives that question their portrayals as inherently evil! Elves being self absorbed! Easterling characters with fascinating and deep characters and cultural backgrounds! Complex political positions held by many characters including breelanders who hate the Dunadain for fully understandable reasons! Literally the first canonically queer couple ever shown in any Tolkien adaptation (lesbian dwarves)! This game takes you from one side of the map all the way too the other and out the other side of Sauron’s defeat and beyond! I could say so much about it and how much I love it but! Yes well anyway, if you do give it a try, you might want to start on Laurelin and send a mail to Hravanis so I can make you cool armours and such!

#lotro #lord of the rings online #lotr #tolkien #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #text post

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as-amemory · 1 month

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I Could Drive You Crazy

Pairing: Éomer x OFC (unnamed)

Summary: She drove him crazy, with her little mannerism specifically crafted to irritate him, to get a rise out of him, for it was then, in that sweet spot before he starts to boil, before his true ire took over, that they find themselves in the heated throws of passion.

Warnings: NSFW, explicit, racism against Dunlendings (if thats a thing? I don't know, I'm new here), unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: less than 2k.

Setting: Aldburg, Rohan - some years before the War of the Ring.

Notes: This is the result of me ovulating and having no outlet as well as a song-bug stuck in my ear: I Could Drive You Crazy by Sierra Ferrell. Basically its a song about being crazy and I thought that might make for an interesting character to pair Éomer with, since apparently I enjoy watching him suffer. I'm not yet ready to name this OFC. I kind of hate her but I want to play with her a few more times and see what mischief she can get up to first before I decide if she needs a permanent residence.

I'm probably going to the small section of hell they specifically reserve for the sickos who deface Tolkien's works with such vulgarity. Enjoy!

Hay Fever threatened to take him fully yet she barged through the door as if he hadn’t complained to her that morning of an oncoming headache. She loved to do that. Ignore his every word and then act surprised when he was upset with her for having to repeat himself. Rare did he share his feelings with others, rarer still that he was forced to repeat himself. Not as Third Marshal of the Mark, Lord of Aldburg. People listened when he spoke. She did not.

“Feed your dogs, Éomer,” she says, voice full of spite. He hated when she called him by his name so casually. He never particularly cared for the triviality of titles. It matters not to him how he is referred to, as long as he first gave leave to call him by his given name, yet she takes the privilege without even bothering to ask permission.

She eyes the hound dogs sprawled at his feet with contempt. She did not like that he allows the dogs to reside inside the confines of his home. They belong in a kennel, outside. “They look as though they will devour me.”

This was his home. It would do her well to get used to seeing them laying on the floor. He sits back in his seat appraising her, the judgment seeped deep in her dark eyes. She is of mixed ancestry, there is no doubt of that by looking at her. Carrying enough blood of the Dunlendings to mark her differently. A mark of his resentment towards her. Resentment that blossomed into hate, the sweet fuel to their more rousing escapades.

“I should let them.” The threat comes out harsher than he intends, the start of a cold restricting any tenderness from escaping his throat.

Tossing two halves of an uneaten pheasant on the ground the dogs swallow it whole in one bite. He had taken his supper in his room that evening, not in the mood to dally with the residents of Aldburg. Typically the seasonal Hay Fever did not affect him but the heavy spring rains had caused an influx of new weeds to run wild in the fields causing him to feel less than ideal. Currently a pain bloomed behind his eyes and at the base of his throat, leaving him in no state to make friendly conversation. Yet here she is, when he had specifically ordered the Doorward not to let anyone into his rooms.

She could drive him to insanity with her blatant disrespect of him. He did not know why he kept her around. They had nothing in common and his list of grievances against her was long in number, dating back almost a year prior, growing longer still.

Showing up late to a personal invitation to go riding, acting as though they had never agreed to a time and certainly not a place of meeting. She had once offered to cook him supper to which he almost choked on the bones swimming in the stew. Had ruined a hunting trip, scaring away all the animals with her incessant humming. A tune which was stuck in his head for almost a fortnight. There was no fishing to be had with her, requiring more patience than whatever little she possessed. Yet time, and time again, him found himself tangled in sheets of his bed with her, or roughly pressed against the edge of his desk in the solar, partial to the idea of being caught, or in the hayloft above the stables, straining so deliciously tight around him as she rode -

He teeth grind at the sight of her, fluttering about his room, touching this and that, moving it slightly away from its original spot as she talks about her day.

“I found a lovely bolt of cloth that would make a fine dress.” She has picked up the crystal paperweight from his desk, peering at it as if she is speaking to the paperweight and not him.

So it was money she wanted? He should have known better than to think she was checking on his well being. He lifts his chin, waiting for her to meet his eye. She would have to ask him directly if she desired any coin from him but she continues to pick up random items just to set them down again, completely ignoring him.

“Come here.” His patience has grown thin. He will not ask her twice yet she looks at him as if he should be the one crawling on his knees to be near her. As if he should hand over his purse just to be allowed the honor of being in the same room as her.

When he does not concede to her silent petition she nods her head in appreciation to his stubbornness. A sly smile curls on her lips as she approaches him, already lifting her dress to better seat herself on his lap.

“I don’t know what I ever liked about you,” he says gruffly as she straddles him. Pushing aside her skirts he unties the laces of his trousers. He would have his due of her before this Hay Fever set in fully.

She laughs mockingly at that. “You love me.”

“I don’t think I do.” He nips at her lips and she smiles ruefully. Skirt pulled around her waist he is able to easily palm the wet folds of her labia. “You seem to like me,” he draws out, pushing the heel of his palm into her sensitive nub, eliciting a delicate gasp from between pink parted lips. He takes the opening to kiss her fully when she otherwise does not particularly enjoy the intimacy of a long drawn out kiss. She surprises him by matching the energy, eagerly molding her lips against his. Rutting down on his hand and along his ever hardening cock causes a gasp of his own to escape his mouth and into hers. His eyes closed briefly at the contact. They had last laid together only that morning. Was he so fallible to her that he could not even keep from gasping out like an inexperienced adolescent?

She bites down on his lower lip. Hard, drawing blood. He hisses his resentment through clenched teeth, digging his fingers into her side. He hated when she did that. This she knows. She remembers that particular detail about him, yet could not remember the name of his first horse or his favorite fishing spot. More than anything she loved to know what he hated.

She is trying to get a rise out of him. Make his boil, just a little. The sex was always better for it.

“Minx,” he growls against her mouth. Taking hold of his cock he spreads the juices of her pleasure along the length, lining himself up with her entrance. Greedily he flicks his hips up into her without warning. She laments her pleasure, loud for all to hear. The Doorward, no doubt, will not be expecting reprimand from him, not when he can so clearly hear the results of his mistake.

Wiggling against him she tries vainly to adjust to the size difference but he holds her in place, fingers digging into her sides. He wishes that he wasn’t so incorrigible. That he wasn’t so tempted by her teasing. That he could withhold himself from acting out so rashly. Maybe like that of his older cousin, whose poise and sense of propriety had always come with ease. Yet he falls for her time and time again, fucking her exactly as she enjoys. As he enjoys.

Letting his eyes linger on her undulating body he sets his jaw to keep from baring his teeth at the pressure of her rolling hips. If only she rode horses as good as she did him then she might be worth her weight in the saddle. Yet for all her withering she is shit astride a horse. It was that cursed Dunlending blood, tainting her ability to be anything but subpar.

A whimper escapes her lips, and he smiles cruelly, at least she suffers, same as him. She rides him slow, a painful pace that leaves him groaning. His only respite from her torture is his thumb circling her clit. She might know everything he hated but he knew exactly what her body loved. Specifically how to milk an orgasm out of her that would leave her seeing stars. It starts slow. Small circles to bring her to attention, and then an increase of pressure as blood engorges to the area. Her breathing hitches in her throat. Like the cat that caught the canary, he smiles at the sight of her. A harsh thrust of his hips, he fills her fully causing her pace to falter. The careful placement of his thumb halts, watching the confused look cross her features as her incoming orgasm slips out from under her.

His name is a growl on her lips, a slight warning. “Éomer.”

That he could take his name from her lips.

She knows the game he plays, the same one she taught him all those years ago. His thumb picks up pace with her rolling hips. He cradles her neck with his free hand. Skin hot, beneath his touch. A sheen of sweat is building along her hairline. He traces the curve of her collarbone and down her chest, across to her nipples, hard beneath her bodice. She is almost as sensitive here as she is between her legs, her hands clench around his shirt trying to hide her rising ecstasy. His nostrils flare, eyes trapped on the expanse of her face, carefully watching for each small indication of her pleasure.

Turning her head she tries to hide from him but he quickly has her jaw clasped between his fingers. He would see her. Shaking her head she waves off his touch, attempting to cover her eyes behind her hand, like a child hiding in plain sight. He clicks his tongue, taking her hand in his and after some struggling binds them both in his clasp behind her back.

“Go on then.” He flicks his chin in her direction. Her pace has all but stopped, hesitantly she finds it again, knowing full well that he now possesses all the power. The power to dish out pleasure as he saw fit.

Yet her rolling hips are more powerful, more exaggerated than before, causing him to grimace, lest he call out her name. She would love that, revel in his undoing. He steels himself with a deep breath through his nose. A ragged breath from her lets him know she is close again. He slows his thumb, wondering if she’ll cry out, plead with him to give her what she wants.

“Éomer.” His name, like a prayer on her lips, is soft and sweet, and he knows he no longer possesses the control he once touted.

Letting free her hands, he pulls her in close until her head rests against his. He can feel the warmth of her breath as he takes his pace, thrusting into her. She has brushed away his teasing thumb, replacing it with her own skilled fingers. A shuddering breath and she tightens further around the length of him. She cries out loud enough that he is certain they hear her in the Great Hall. He is still thrusting into her as she convulses hot and heady around him but he soon follows suit, letting his release run him fully with a loud groan of his own.

Panting, she rests her head against his chest, forehead sticky with sweat it clings to the thin fabric of his shirt. She does not cuddle. She never has lingered in his arms as they slowly drift down from their high. She slips off his lap and he shutters at the sudden loss of contact, hands gripping the armrests of the chair.

By the time he has regained his senses enough to stand she has relieved herself and wiped clean his seed dripping down her thighs. Maybe a good romp was the cure to any oncoming ailment. He drowns the last of his ale, eyeing her as she smiles prettily for him under dark thick lashes. So demure and pliant, when only moments earlier he was ready to have her thrown from his room for her uncouth behavior.

“You spoil me, my lord,” she says coyly. He bites back a scoff.

Her gaze is taken with the leather purse heavy on the corner of his desk. A slight nod of his head and she promptly reaches across the expanse, showing off the long lines of her body, and that of the soft curves she knows he loves to grab hold of during their coupling. Deftly, her fingers dip inside the pouch, taking out three coins.

“This should cover the cost.” Her gaze darts to him, searching for any subtle hint of permission that she could take more but he is hard set against giving her indication. Already she pushes the bounds of his generosity.

“And one more,” she purrs softly, plucking a fourth coin out. “As insurance to return to you.”

He rolls his eyes, knowing well she will only return when she pleases not because she feels indebted to him. Offering a low curtsey, she mumbles her thanks, letting his gaze linger on her, on the low cut of her dress. Her bosom all but swells out of the strains of her bodice. When did such a salacious style come into fashion? Surely his sister did not expose herself so scantily in Edoras? He bites his lip, thoughts of his sister quickly pushed from his mind replaced instead by the women so humbly lowered before him. Already he feels a slight twitch of his groin.

She rises, satisfied with her display of deference. A Haunting smile on her lips, she glances at the hound dogs splayed out on the rug.

“Feed your dogs, Éomer,” she instructs as a final goodbye. Out the door he is certain she can hear his mocking laughter following her.

#I probably got his voice entirely wrong #but I had fun writing this #eomer fanfiction #Eomer x OC #Eomer x OFC #Eomer smut #lotr fanfic #lotr smut

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ceescedasticity · 6 months

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Unforsaken, 9c

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

Elrohir asks if Maglor ever wandered far enough south to get completely clear of Sauron's shadow.

Celegorm asks if he would have noticed if he did.

Maglor says yes, as a matter of fact, he did travel that far a few times and did notice.

In fact, he's been farther south than the Númenóreans ever got! Although it was a little hard to tell, since stories of the wicked Westerlings spread south, too.

…Then they have to explain 'Númenóreans (derogatory)' to the Hirnedhrim.

"Have you not heard of this at all? I thought the Dunlendings were still holding grudges about it?"

"Not that anyone told us about."

Risyind mentions that apparently Pelndoru either wasn't paying enough attention to hear about the Númenóreans or else it decided to scrub them from history after the Involution. She's guessing the first one.

(If she didn't have more important things to worry about Sharlinnu would definitely be cranky about the Involution.)

****

Gimli points out they should probably do a demonstration with the Wizard's Clay before it comes time to use it.

…Although the horses wouldn't be very happy about it. Or the oxen. Or Celeborn.

Maglor could probably keep it from bothering the oxen and horses? It's not easy when he doesn't know beforehand what he needs to neutralize…

Celeborn objects to blowing up anything in the Vales of Anduin regardless of who can hear it — though he can see the point about needing a demonstration. Wait until they're north of the mountains?

Okay, but at that point Maglor will also need to keep it from attracting cold-drakes.

…Actually no one knows whether cold-drakes would come towards the sounds of explosions.

****

Over the course of several days—

Ah, geese flying north.

They're doing a lot of landing and taking off for migrators.

…They really should have overtaken us by now.

Are we being tailed by geese?

Gimli was bitten by a goose once.

That's nothing, a couple of the goblin-men of Dunland got mauled by geese, they eventually swore off trying to keep them.

…None of the elves have ever been attacked by geese.

"It's about respecting them."

…Those are… kind of large for geese, actually, aren't they?

Ohhhhhh, those are the Geese of Manwë!

Everyone stops to look at Glorfindel like he's lost his mind.

The what now.

The Geese of Manwë. Like the Eagles of Manwë, but geese.

…

We didn't see them in Eldamar in the Time of the Trees because there weren't a lot of natural bodies of water — apart from the Sea — but once we got rivers in—

What.

—No, one thing at a time, geese.

(Or should it be Geese?)

Glorfindel isn't sure what they want him to say. They're like Eagles, but geese. They aren't as suited to killing things as the Eagles. Their homes are less remote, so you see them more often, in the West. Some of them enter poetry competitions? They're supposed to be banned from both Yavanna's gardens and Aulë's workshops, but, uh, that hasn't really stuck.

"None of that explains why they're following us."

"I… expect they're meant to be helping us?" Glorfindel says. "I'm not sure how, but it must be a good sign?"

"I would have thought Eagles would be more help," Turgon says. "Although I suppose they could arrive later."

Has this flock been living somewhere in Middle-earth all this time? Who knows!

"Those aren't all geese," Legolas says suddenly. "There are two swans. Grey, but swans."

Celegorm immediately turns around and tries to look himself, even though it is a sunny day and he was uncomfortable even before looking at the sky. He is unable to confirm or dispute Legolas's observation.

Several others can confirm it, though.

…Huh. Weird.

…Not really much weirder than the 'there are Geese of Manwë' baseline, though.

****

(That evening after speaking to the party Arwen decides to take a closer look at these 'Geese of Manwë' and mystery swans. She ends up dropping the Orthanc-stone on her foot. It fractures a toe. Arwen swears Aragorn to secrecy.)

****

They're able to keep on the river a long ways, with all the oxen walking and the barges lightly loaded — even past the point where the Anduin is born in the confluence of two smaller rivers. They pick the tributary coming down from the Misty Mountains, since the one from the Grey Mountains splits into two streams halfway there.

It gets un-navigable eventually, but Celeborn doesn't think it's more than a day or two before they would have had to cut north away from the river anyway.

They unload the wagons from the barges, and move the supplies to the wagons. As for the barges themselves — well, they aren't anticipating any cargo on the way back, but it would still make things easier, and they should at least try to return the barges to Arwen. They drag the barges on shore and turn them over, protecting them as much as they can out in the open.

They reorganize the oxen — eight wagons rather than four barges — and continue on.

****

At this point they can all drive the wagons. No one is particularly eager to. (The suspension is not great.) They trade off often.

Celegorm, Turgon, and Sharlinnu have to pick between walking in the daylight, riding in the wagons, or walking around holding a piece of canvas over their heads as a sunshield.

Caution rises as they approach the Gap of Gundabad — not that they weren't alert before, but there hadn't been any expectation of threat.

Gimli grumbles about such a holy place being profaned.

Khitwê points out that Pelnûru scholars' best guess at the former location of Kuynennu — Cuiviénen — is in Dead Empire territory, and even the geography isn't there anymore, so really the dwarves are still ahead!

Elladan: "I thought no one knew where Cuiviénen used to be!"

Khitwê: "They don't know for sure, but there were people who knew how to get to Kuynennu from Pelndoru and back, so even after everything got torn up they could get approximately there…"

Of course they couldn't investigate after the White Empire started up.

Maglor: "…So if Mount Gundabad is full of orcs—"

(Celegorm: "Not that many orcs—")

Maglor, ignoring the interruption: "—And what's left of Cuiviénen has an entire human empire squatting in it… does anyone know what happened to Hildorien?"

No. In fact, there is some skepticism on the Hildorien story generally.

Before they can get into that, Zena asks what exactly they're talking about — it turns out no one has told the Hirnedhrim about the various awakenings. So they have to go over that.

The Hirnedhrim are — not skeptical, exactly, but they have questions. There are things you have to be taught, that you can't just conjure out of nowhere. What was the difference in wisdom between these magically-awakening adults and someone who lived alone in a pit their entire life finally getting out? How did the difference get there?

Zena: "And there must have been a difference, because an entire village full of just-retrieved Usazilas would have… had problems."

Zuste: "It took over a hundred years for the bite-scars to fade."

…

What?

Maglor: "I would argue that being kept in a pit and treated like an animal by the only people you have ever met teaches its own breed of wisdom which is of less than no use in most other situations."

Zena agrees he may be on to something there, but still doesn't think that's sufficient.

Elrohir knows he is not going to like the answer and that possibly he just shouldn't ask, but: "I understand that the Men of Dunland had no love for you, but… why a pit?"

Zena: "They thought it would keep the Fair Orc away from their women if his child was still there. That was why others of our sisters and brothers were tolerated through infancy, at least. These people thought they had found a way to do that which they liked better than keeping an abomination in the house."

Zuste: "They boasted of it. Had been boasting for years before we found out."

Zuste: "We burned that steading to the ground."

She does not say what became of the inhabitants other than Usazila.

Celegorm: nodding approvingly

Turgon: glaring at Celegorm for this improper moral feedback

Risyind: "Well anyway, the tradition of the People of the Pearls is that humans lived underwater until drawn out into the air by the light of the Sun."

Zena: "Interesting!"

Risyind: "My understanding is none of the Pelnûru have ever felt there are any grounds to challenge them on it, since it's not like we know exactly where Men awakened."

Legolas: "No one ever pointed out that Men can't breathe water?"

Risyind: "They are fully aware of that themselves. The stories don't explain anything, but the tradition for a long time was that before the Sun, Men were more like porpoises. More recently, though, there were some philosophers who argued that the stories specifically say drawn to the air by the Sun, and porpoises already have to visit the air regularly, so Men must have been more like some other sort of fish, or maybe octopuses."

Legolas: "Ah, that makes sense."

(Have never heard of an octopus: Legolas, Zuste, Zena, Dyn. Also Whiterot.)

Risyind: "Maybe, but there was some heated discussion. We heard all about it because some of them had to leave town for a while and came to Pelndoru."

Gimli: that doesn't sound right "…The octopuses…?"

(Has never seen an octopus, but has read about them in books written by Dwarves who had also never seen one: Gimli.)

Anyway that discussion gets everyone thoroughly sidetracked, thank you Risyind.

(Have seen one or more octopuses in the course of living by the Sea and/or traveling by ship and/or knowing Círdan: Khitwê, Risyind, Elrohir, Elladan, Sharlinnu, Glorfindel, Maglor.)

(Has seen an octopus after his cousin absolutely insisted he come to Alqualondë and get on a boat and see this new, fascinating creature he just found out about: Turgon.)

(Has seen octopuses and been disappointed when Oromë said he couldn't teach him to understand them: Celegorm.)

(Has seen one or more octopuses in the course of knowing Círdan, but only after spending several centuries thinking Angrod made them up, and unfortunately Círdan told the twins about this: Celeborn.)

(Have eaten octopus: Sharlinnu, Khitwê, not Risyind because she doesn't care what anyone else says, it doesn't look like something you're supposed to eat, shut up Khitwê. Also Maglor, but he doesn't want to talk about it.)

****

Whiterot joins them once they're properly in the Gap of Gundabad. (She is greeted with questions on whether she knows what an octopus is. She does not.)

She goes over the state of things in Gundabad. Most relevantly, no one is likely to attack them. Whiterot does have some healing minor injuries from scuffles, but just usual day-to-day stuff. There's still no leader and no plans to police the gap. They're good.

(Also, some orcs did take Bellow's advice and took off to look for good places to hole up in the Mountains of Angmar, but that's not pertinent at the moment.)

****

They're almost out of the Gap of Gundabad when disaster strikes. Sort of.

Dyn asks Gimli about the case with the three strands of hair, and he explains.

Maglor looks at Celegorm. Celegorm looks at Maglor.

They don't say anything.

—So here is the thing, about the hair.

Asking someone for some of their hair for use in an art or craft project — either directly or as a reference — was not unknown. But it wasn't the sort of thing you'd be soliciting strangers in the street for, either; it was a personal request for a favor and belonged in a personal relationship. Artanis refused the first request because she wasn't inclined to grant Fëanáro any favors, and also she felt Fëanáro held himself too far aloof from the grandchildren of Indis to presume a personal relationship.

That last part was difficult to dispute.

So, Fëanáro had assumed his status as an elder kinsman and as a matchless craftsman would stand in for a personal relationship; Artanis said it didn't. Kind of embarrassing for Fëanáro and awkward all around, but not inappropriate.

There was some familial huffing about how if Artanis didn't respect Fëanáro enough for this maybe her family weren't really Noldor. That sort of thing.

But asking a second time made it weird, even with the clarification that he wished to "study the hair's unique appearance". Artanis made it even clearer that she was not interested in granting a favor to someone who "pretended my family did not exist until he thought I might provide an interesting specimen".

Asking a third time—

Asking a third time was inappropriate. The Arafinwëans all left Tirion for Alqualondë, and Artanis didn't come back for a Tree-year. Finwë didn't reprimand Fëanor, but he did offer to ask Ingwë and Olwë for hair strands himself which Fëanor could study, with the implication that Fëanor could therefore stop making such requests of people who found it upsetting. Nerdanel told Fëanor there were questions on which he needed to accept 'no'.

And Maitimo, Makalaurë, and Tyelkormo, who all had social circles which reached outside Fëanor's most devoted followers, had to deal with a number of friends and acquaintances either attempting to delicately ask "hey wtf is up with your father and hair" or refraining from asking despite really wanting to. And when someone did ask, loyalty required trying to justify Fëanor even though they knew he'd pushed too much.

It was not enjoyable. The last thing they want to do here is deal with someone explaining the whole debacle to Legolas, Gimli, Khitwê, Risyind, Sharlinnu, Whiterot, the Hirnedhrim, and possibly Elladan and Elrohir — and, actually, they aren't 100% sure Celeborn knows already. Just. No.

They say nothing. Elladan and Elrohir are intensely relieved.

(Glorfindel is secretly a little disappointed.)

#a tolkien tag #orc bank #orc bank unforsaken #i don't think this chapter is going to go much further but it needs some more internal modifications

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 5 months

Text

Tolkien Family Week, Day 3: Extended Family (aka Éomer's substitute dads)

It’s Day 3 of @tolkienfamilyweek and we’re still in Rohan! As usual, I’m thinking about my guy, Éomer. In my head canon, his father-in-law is Elfhelm, the marshal of the Mark most famous for looking the other way when Éowyn and Merry join his éored and ride to war in Gondor. I have a lot of affection for Elfhelm even though his role in the canon is pretty small, and he appears in my work semi-regularly.

In this case, I found myself thinking a lot about what it means to Éomer to have other father figures in his life, given that his own father died when he was so young, and Elfhelm would obviously be a major one (reminder, in my HC Éomer grew up best friends with Elfhelm’s daughter, who he later married. So Elfhelm had been in Éomer’s life for a long time both as unofficial and official extended family). The context/setting is a time shortly after the war of the ring, as the armies of Rohan are preparing to ride out once again in support of Gondor, this time to help Elessar rid Middle Earth of the evils remaining after the fall of Sauron.

**********

Éomer heard Elfhelm before he saw him. The stomping feet, the angry shouting as those feet approached his office. By the time the door flew open to reveal his father-in-law in all of his displeasure, Éomer was already up and out from behind his desk, ready to address the outburst that was clearly coming.

“Éomer! Have you heard this nonsense from Hildred?” Hildred was Éomer’s closest military advisor, and he had recently issued new duty assignments for each of the marshals. “Commander of the home forces? I am supposed to stay here and babysit Edoras while someone else takes my men out on your campaign with King Elessar?”

Éomer would not have allowed any other man in Rohan to storm in like this, unannounced and raging, but Elfhelm was no average Rohirrim. He had a claim on Éomer’s affections that no other living man could best, and Éomer was prepared to accept much from Elfhelm that he would not tolerate in others. He tried now to steer the older man to a chair.

“I have spoken with Hildred,” Éomer said. “And I understand why you are angry. Please, sit. Let us talk this through.”

Elfhelm threw himself into the nearest chair, but no sooner had his back hit the cushion than he sprang back up to pace angrily across the room. “I’ve been a marshal of the Mark since most of you were still schoolboys. Since that time, I’ve killed more orcs than just about anyone else in Rohan, not to mention Dunlendings or Haradrim or whoever else needed to be dealt with. And I’m every bit as strong now at sixty as I was at twenty.” He stopped in front of Éomer and poked a finger in his chest. “You could ask those fools at Helm’s Deep or outside Minas Tirith whether I’ve gone soft with age. But they couldn’t tell you, because they’re already buried in a mound somewhere with bodies full of holes from my sword!” He stomped a foot for emphasis before resuming his angry steps.

Éomer sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. To see Elfhelm in such a mood was a vanishingly rare occurrence. Ordinarily, he was almost unnaturally cheerful. He could maintain a happy countenance and a lighthearted spirit through the most appalling conditions, and he lost his desire to trade stories, gossip or groan-inducing jokes only while in the heat of preparations for battle. His gregarious, easygoing nature made him enormously popular with soldiers and civilians alike, but there was little sign of that nature now.

“Everyone in Rohan has nothing but the deepest respect for you as a soldier.” Éomer tried to find a calming tone that would not be heard as patronizing. “We would all trust you with our lives on a battlefield, without hesitation. Believe me, no one doubts your capabilities.”

Elfhelm wheeled around on his heel. “Hildred must have such doubts, or that order would never have been given. Unless it is not that he thinks me incapable of leading my men but simply that he does not want me to anymore. And, frankly, that is not any better. After all, who is Hildred to make such a decision?”

Éomer grimaced and shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Hildred.” He put a hand on Elfhelm’s arm. “Please sit down, and let us talk calmly. Are you not always the one telling me to keep my head and control my temper?”

Elfhelm huffed in grudging acknowledgement of his own advice. He sat, as requested, but remained perched on the edge of the seat as though to be comfortable would be too much of a concession. He folded his arms and glared out ahead of himself. “Alright. I am sitting.”

Éomer cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. “As I said, this has nothing to do with

Hildred.” He toed at a crack in the stone floor. “Hildred issued the duty assignments, but he is not the one who devised them. I did.” He looked up. ”I’m the one who wants you to stay in Edoras.”

Elfhelm’s mouth dropped open slightly. “You? You are the one who wants to put me out to pasture like an old stallion who is past his prime? To be stared at and pitied by all the younger studs?”

“Hold on, that is not—“

“‘Oh look, there’s old Elfhelm,’ they’ll all say. ‘Remember when he was once a formidable soldier? How times have changed’.”

“If you will just please allow me—“

Éomer’s attempts to break in went entirely unheeded as Elfhelm instead picked up speed and volume while he continued.

“I have been nothing but good to you since the day you first showed up at my house, a skinny, sad, scared little boy who found comfort and happiness in the friendship of my daughter. A lot of fathers around these parts would have shown you the door right away, you know. They would have thought such a close relationship between a boy and a girl could lead to nothing but trouble. But I welcomed you in. You’ve eaten more meals at my family table than I can count. We’ve celebrated with you, and we’ve grieved with you. We’ve watched you grow and taken pride in what you’ve done and what you’ve become. I didn’t need you to marry Mereliss in order to feel like you were my own son. I had already long since started to think of you that way. But despite all of that, now you would humiliate me like this?”

Exasperated, Éomer jumped to his feet, desperate to get in a word of response. “Enough!” he thundered. When Elfhelm went quiet, Éomer dropped the volume of his own voice and sat down again. He had an almost pleading look in his eye. “Don’t you see? All of that—everything you just said—is precisely why I don’t want you to go off to battle again. You are like a father to me, and I have lost enough fathers already!”

A stunned silence enveloped the room as Elfhelm stared at him, trying to process another unexpected revelation. “You…you are worried for my safety?”

Éomer dashed a hand across his eyes as though to fend off tears. “Of course I am. I was only eleven when my father was killed. He was my hero, and I didn’t think I would ever manage his loss. But then Théoden took us in, and he gave us not just shelter and food but stability and affection and pride. And Théodred took me under his wing, teaching me how to be the kind of man that he was… how to ride and fight, how to make and keep a commitment, how to treat others with respect and kindness. And you gave me a home away from home, a place that I could always go for support and advice and comfort. I always felt welcome in your house, even when Mereliss was not there. And so, against all of my expectations, I found other fathers, not to replace the one I lost but to fill in for him and give me what he no longer could. And now…” He broke off as his voice cracked, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “Now you’re the only one left. And so, yes, I wanted you to take on a safer role, and perhaps that was selfish of me. But I only hoped to make sure that I could keep you for as long as possible. I am sorry.” He dropped his head.

Every hint of anger left Elfhelm’s body in an instant. He looked on Éomer’s slumped form and saw once again the young, vulnerable child who had first come into his life so many years ago. And he knew that protecting that child, who still existed inside the strong, tall body of the man in this chair, was far more important to him than the glory or excitement of yet another battle. He wanted nothing more than to make that child feel loved and secure.

“Oh, Éomer, my boy. I’m the one who is sorry. I leapt to all the wrong conclusions.” He rose and pulled Éomer to his feet, wrapping him in a tight embrace. When he released him at last, he left a hand on Éomer’s shoulder. “Can you forgive me for my harsh words?”

“If you will forgive me for putting you in this position,” said Éomer. “It is not fair to make you choose between your family and your pride.”

“Oh, to hell with pride. I’ve won enough battles in this lifetime to be a proud soldier already. Now I can be proud just to be the sort of man that the king of Rohan wants to keep around.” He dropped back into his chair, the jovial glint returned to his eye once again, and propped his feet up on a nearby side table, ready to settle in for a long stay.

#tolkien family week #extended family #eomer #elfhelm #father figures #in-laws that you genuinely love #rohan #forth eorlingas #lord of the rings #lotr fanfiction

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