#FOTFICS event

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Rock, Scissors, Tears

For THAUC 2023 @fellowshipofthefics

In collaboration with The Legendary Blue Acorn Artist , I have written a fairy tale story featuring Ori, my best boy.

Rating: Teen and up

Pairing(s): Ori x OC, Thorin/Bilbo

Words: 14 800

Warnings: Sadness, arranged marriage, a curse, a rebellious dress

-> On Ao3

Across endless cycles of death and rebirth, the stories of brave heroes and undaunted maidens have thus been repeated unceasingly, so that they might eventually find the fortunate ending they deserve.

To counteract the curses and adamant adversaries my own beloved children would invariably have to face, my brethren and I have endeavoured to supply them with hardy friends, intrepid protectors, and the occasional magical artefact to fortify them in their brave struggle.

This is the story of Thorin, a dutiful prince, and Ori, the wielder of enchanted scissors; it’s a tale that shall be ineludibly changed during and through its very telling by the power of true courage and steadfast love.

Hearken, dear reader, and—with the precious support of your goodwill—we might well achieve a satisfying end to this tale of woe.

Prologue - Aulë

Lots of love! I hope you'll enjoy!

#og post #THAUC 2023 #thauc23 #THAUC #FOTFICS event #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #art by annartthing #fic by me #Ori #Thorin #Bilbo #Bagginshield #Ori x OC #Elrond #Thranduil #Aulë #Mahal #fairy tale #curses and promises #enchanted scissors #arranged marriage

[fellowshipofthefics]

Welcome to the first Wednesday Wordplay for Novel November! It's important to get started on the right foot to reach a word count goal. This first Wednesday Wordplay is just to get you started :)

Write one sentence for your WIP and share it with our tag! You can stop there for today or use the momentum to carry you further onto a paragraph or a whole page! Whatever works for you, we just want to see it!

#fotfics #fotfics event #wednesday word play

[emyn-arnens]

In Due Time

Celebrían/Elrond | G | ~800 words | @nolofinweanweek | AO3

Celebrían, pale in the light of the silver lanterns that hung about their bedchamber, sat silent before Elrond as he treated her wounds. Ever since she had been brought back to Imladris, she had seemed to him ghostly and ephemeral, as if at any moment she might disappear from beneath his hands.

As he smoothed a salve over her lingering wounds, Celebrían made no response, neither crying out in pain nor flinching from his touch. Few of her wounds now remained; most of the wounds that had scored her body had faded to red, puckered scars that ran down her back and limbs like knotted ropes. Those he rubbed a different salve on, one to fade their color and lessen their knotted appearance. His movements as he worked were slow and gentle, soothing.

Celebrían had said little of what had happened to her in the dark dens of the Orcs, but the wounds upon her body and the instruments of torture that Elladan and Elrohir had found when they had hunted down the last remaining Orcs and driven them back to their dens had told the story of her suffering well enough. Her silence had said the rest.

Would that it had been him instead of her who had suffered at the cruel hands of the Orcs.

Elrond brushed Celebrían’s hair, limp and lank, away from her shoulders, tracing the lighter scars that netted her shoulders. These he did not treat; they would fade in time, for the wounds had been shallow.

Time. Every day he felt as if he had less of it, as if their days together were drawing to an end, as surely as winter nipped and howled at the heels of autumn. She would not stay here. Every day he grew more certain of that.

He brushed his thumb over a light scar, then bent and softly kissed her shoulder. Celebrían made no response.

Closing his eyes, Elrond pressed his forehead against the crook of her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, wishing that if he held her tight enough, she might stay.

If only he could mend hearts and spirits as well as he could mend skin and bone. If only he could reach her and draw her back from the dark places she now walked in her mind. 

If only his love were enough.

A tear fell upon his arms, then another, and then another. Elrond wrapped Celebrían tighter in his embrace.

He held her long into the night.

— — —

They were alone at last.

It was now the late watches of the night, for Elrond’s arrival upon the shores of Tol Eressëa had heralded a flurry of long-anticipated reunions and first meetings that had lasted well into the night. So, too, had Galadriel, Mithrandir, and the Ringbearers been greeted with exultation. Avalloné had not seen such gladness and merriment for many long years of the sun, or so Celebrían had told Elrond. He thought perhaps she was exaggerating for his benefit.

Tilion now rode high in the sky, and his silver light fell upon their bed as Celebrían sat before Elrond, her hair pulled over her shoulder as he undid the laces of her gown. His fingers were clumsier at the task than they had once been, having forgotten the motions in their long years apart, but Celebrían sat patiently before him nonetheless.

Elrond slid the gown from her shoulders. The faint scars upon her back gleamed silver in the pale light of their room. He brushed his fingertips over her skin, marvelling. No longer was her skin knotted into red ropes. In their places were faint silver lines, smooth to the touch.

“They are no more,” she said, and Elrond heard the smile in her voice. “I asked Finrod for a salve,” she continued. “He told me that he had lessened his own scars with the use of one, and I thought that I might use it upon mine. It was not as effective as the one you made for me, but it worked well, and the power of this land aided it.”

Elrond smiled softly at her praise. “You have met Finrod?”

“He is even kinder than the old tales said.”

Elrond bent to kiss her shoulder. “You must introduce me,” he murmured.

Celebrían reached up and twisted her hand in his hair, holding him against her. “In due time,” she said.

He hummed against her skin and pressed a kiss to her neck, lingering. “Yes, in due time.”

Celebrían turned her head, smiling, and met his lips with hers.

#nolofinweanweek2023 #nolofinweanweek #the silmarillion #lotr #elrond #celebrian #fotfics #my fic #i wouldn't be me if i weren't late to a fandom event

[erathene]

Unguarded

100 word drabble written for @fellowshipofthefics 'Luck of the Draw' March 2024 writing challenge. For this one I got 12 ("I don't need a gentleman right now.") and 14 ("Strength").

I have read some incredible Boromir AUs recently with strong female characters; specifically The Unravelling of Hard Words by @eternal-vambraces and Fuck the Forbidden by @entishramblings, they honestly made me look at him differently so guess I'm a Boromir simp now thanks guys. I haven't ever written anything for Boromir so decided to use this prompt for him!

Warnings: Description of battle, Boromir x Female!Reader pairing.

......................

"I don't need a gentleman right now!"

Two Uruks are annihilated by your blade in quick succession as you speak, the words woven with bitterness and ferocity. It's more than a demand to let you handle this yourself; it's resentment against societal norms dictating that a woman should be defended by a man.

Boromir knows this; he sees your scarred leather armour, toned physique and fearlessly unapologetic personality. He doesn't see a defenceless woman. He sees a warrior.

Broad shoulders press against your own, covering your back, sword and shield raised to fight.

"No," he concurs. "You need a friend."  

#fotfics #fotfics march event #luck of the draw #writing event #fanfiction #lotr fanfic #Boromir #Boromir x y/n #Boromir x you #Boromir x Reader

[middleearthpixie]

Here I come bringing my obsession your Ask Box!

AUgust Mashup:

Eomer + Enemies to Lovers + “I didn’t know you cared.”

No pressure: Please and thank you! <3

Ahhhh... I know this took me FOREVER, but here you go (and you should know, this is my very first time ever writing Éomer, so I really hope I got him right!)

I hope you like it! 💜💜💜

Fair Enough

Trope: AUgust Mashup Enemies to Lovers

Quote: “I didn’t know you cared…”

Pairings: Éomer x fem!reader

Warnings: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.6k

***

“Isn’t there some way we could just—you know—knock him from his saddle?”

You bit back a smile at Cynewyn’s suggestion, although it did have merit, and tried instead to focus on the plate you were drying. “The trouble with that would be, we might spook his horse and if it was injured, we’d never forgive us, would we?”

“Well, no. I don’t suppose we would. But, the horse might be just fine. Only Éomer would get no less than he deserves.”

“True, but it’s a risk I’d rather not take. The last thing either us or papa needs is to to pay for replacing his horse.”

“It would be no less than he deserves as well, the snake. I’d like to throw a rock at him right now.”

“Makes two of us, but again—” 

“I know,” Cynewyn sighed, “it’s a risk you’d rather not take.”

“Exactly.” You smiled at your older sister. “We can only hope that one day, he gets his and that we are lucky enough to witness it.”

“Which is not going to happen.” Cynewyn went quiet as she dunked another plate into the washbasin. “Still, why would he do that to you, anyway? What was the point?”

You shrugged, taking the plate to wipe dry. “To make sport of me, I suppose. After all, isn’t it funny when a man pretends he’s interested in you and then when you show up at your agreed upon meeting place, he’s nowhere to be found? And isn’t it funny when he and his friends were just outside of the pub, giggling like children, is just so amusing?”

“Men? Bah! They are but boys. Big boys, but boys just the same.” She passed you another plate.

You said nothing, but dried the plate and then slid it onto its shelf in the cupboard, atop the small stack you’d already dried. In the time it took you to do that, Éomer had moved on down the road that ran before the kitchen windows of your family’s small stone cottage. You should have known he’d been sporting with you when he asked you to meet him at the coffeehouse the previous week. Until that morning, he didn't seem to know you were alive. It was only too bad you could not say the same, because not only did you most definitely know he was alive, you thought he was the most perfect man alive. That afternoon, however, he toppled from that pedestal and shattered at its base as far as you were concerned. 

Of course, that didn't mean his thoughtless actions didn't hurt. Because they did. They most definitely did. 

But, you’d not think about what happened any longer. He’d gotten a good laugh at your expense, but you would rise above it. You had no other choice, really. He was the king’s nephew and you were… well…

You were nobody, really. 

A depressing thought.

You finished drying the dishes and left your sister to whatever it was she was doing. You shared a room and night after night, you would stretch out on your bed and try to read whilst she went through her seemingly bottomless supply of fabric for whatever gown she was going to try to copy from whichever lady she saw in town. She was really quite gifted, so you didn’t mind when she asked you to be her model, as you had no dressmaker’s dummy. But tonight, she did not need your assistance and, claiming a headache, instead she chose to go to bed early. A good night’s sleep was always welcomed, but as you lay there in the dark, sleep mocked you instead. It had been happening more and more often now, as the world grew more unsettled and while you could usually find some way to drift off, tonight was not one of those nights. You were simply too restless and so you slipped from the small stone cottage to go for a walk. 

You tried not think about how disappointed you’d been when Éomer stood you up at the coffeehouse. Perhaps you should have expected it, but it hurt just the same. Of course, you weren’t the only one who imagined catching his eye. Half the women of marriageable age in Edoras dreamed of doing just that and no one could blame a one of you. Not only was he the king’s nephew, but he was so blasted handsome, with his long, wavy dark gold hair and direct hazel eyes. And whenever you saw him on horseback—you melted a little on the inside each time.

Of course, now he knew you fancied him and not only that, but he’d used it against you. Knocking him off his horse wasn't even close to being enough. Still, you couldn't dwell on it forever. In time, everyone who was in that coffeehouse would forget.

Everyone but you, anyway. 

“And that is the last we will think of it,” you muttered, trying instead to focus on something, anything, else as you strolled on. 

It was a peaceful night, hints of the coming autumn in the crisp edge of the breeze that stirred the leaves last night’s storm had pulled from the trees. The best thing about the stone cottage at the end of the road in Edoras? You were the farthest point from the king’s residence, which meant you would most likely not cross paths again with Éomer at this time of night. True, he’d been riding south, which meant that at some point he would pass by here again, but you’d have enough warning, as the road was wide and almost no trees lined it. Sneaking up on you would be almost impossible. 

Not that he would even try. He’d made himself perfectly clear where you were concerned. 

The night sky was clear, spangled with stars and moonlight bathed everything as far as you could see an etherial silver color. There had been rumblings to the east, and you’d heard talk amongst the menfolk about the possibility of war, and you also knew that orcs had been seen on the borders of Rohan. And that was why you did not leave your house without a blade of some sort. Although your father was not overjoyed at the thought, he allowed both you and Cynewyn to carry a small sword, which you were almost never without. You weren’t a master by any stretch of the imagination, but Papa had made certain you and your sister learned how to defend yourselves, should the need ever arise.

Your walks had become your way of remaining sane when it seemed there was so much uncertainty all around. The thought of war was so foreign to you, as your father insulated you and Cynewyn as best he could, and yet you knew it wasn’t far off. The king’s health was failing, and you’d heard rumors that he, Éomer, and the king’s advisor, Grima, had been butting heads of late. 

Perhaps that was why Éomer had gone thundering past the kitchen windows on his horse as he had. One too many cross words with his uncle, maybe? In some ways, you hoped so, for if Éomer was banished, life would become easier for you.

But at the same time, if you were completely honest with yourself, you knew if he left for good, you would miss him terribly. How difficult it was, caring so much for a man you also tried so hard to despise! If only you could forgive him.

If only.

You vowed once more to not think about it. 

Instead, you concentrated on the beauty of the night sky, of how those stars seemed so vast and endless, how the moon managed to bathe things silver although it gave off no light. You listened to the whisper of the wind through the scrub grass and bushes that dotted the landscape seemingly to the edge of Middle Earth. The wind whispered, crickets chirped, and in the distance, an owl hooted. A normal night.

Or so you thought.

You heard the noise before you saw the creature that made it and as those sounds reached your ears, the stench reached your nose. Your heart lurched, your stomach kinked, and a sour taste filled your mouth, brought on both by the stink and the coldest, iciest, most petrifying fear that ever permeated your being.

Papa always told you not to venture too far from the road. One never knew what lurked in the fields sweeping east and west, where twisted trees grew in clumps and provided cover for many things.

Such as the orc now standing over Éomer’s prone body.

You ducked, shifting toward the stand of pine trees twisted by the winds, which thankfully carried any sounds you might have made away from the orc and Éomer. Metal clanged Éomer blocked the orc’s downward swing with his blade. He held fast, his arms trembling from the effort and his heavy glove the only thing keeping the dual-sided blade from slicing into his hand.

The orc appeared to brace harder against his blade, determined to run Éomer through and you couldn't let that happen, no matter how angry or hurt you were because of him. So, you slid your blade free and crept about the pines as silently as you knew how. You’d learned from Papa, who would take you with him when he went hunting, and although you could never bring yourself to kill anything, you learned from him just the same. Besides, an orc wasn’t anywhere near as beautiful as a deer or fox. Quite the opposite, really. They were the ugliest, vilest, most disgusting creatures to walk the earth as far as you were concerned. 

Your soft-skinned boots made no sound as you approached and the orc never knew what hit him when you swung and cleaved his head clean from his shoulders. What was left of him collapsed like a sandbag atop Éomer, who swore softly as the creature’s thick, black blood splattered him. 

Nausea rose in your throat as it spattered you as well, and you tried to ignore it as you grabbed the still-warm shoulder and threw the corpse back. “Are you all right?”

“I’ve had better nights,” Éomer groaned, rolling over and onto his knees, his sword clattering softly in the dust. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was but going for a walk. What is that—” you gestured to the dead orc—“doing here? They do not usually venture so close to our borders.”

“They grow bolder and have been for some time now.” He rocked back on his knees and swept his silver and brass helmet from his head to let it clatter to the ground alongside his sword. “Are you all right?”

“Me? I am fine.” You resheathed your sword and carefully crouched alongside him. His dark blond hair was damp with sweat, pulled away from his face and held back with a small strip of worn leather. “And you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing.” He winced as he shifted onto his backside and gingerly prodded at his left thigh.

You looked down, your stomach clenching at the sight of the wound that must’ve bled terribly, for the entire front of his trouser leg was stained with a large wet patch. It looked as if the orc’s blade had sliced through the fabric. Without thinking, you brushed his hands aside to see for yourself and as soon as you had, you wished you hadn’t. 

The wound was ugly and raw, a long slice from just below his hip to his knee, and still bled freely. “We need to get you home.”

“You go on. I need to find my horse.”

“Your horse is not here,” you told him, scanning all around to make certain you weren’t lying. You were’t. There was no sign of a horse anywhere about. “Come, let’s get you up and I will help you.”

“Just leave me…”

“Oh, don’t be a fool!”

He jerked back. “I am serious. Leave me. The last I want is harm befalling you on my behalf. So please, just go. There will be more of them coming, looking for this one,” he nudged the corpse with one boot. “And I am not at all certain I’d be able to protect you.”

“You mean you aren’t certain you’d want to.”

He just stared up at you. “I didn't say that, nor would I.”

“You might as well. Aren’t I only a laugh to you anyway? Ever the fool for you and your friends to chuckle over.”

At least he didn't try to deny his actions or motivations as he said, “Oh… the coffeehouse.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “the coffeehouse. So, you’ll forgive me if I don't believe you would lift a finger to keep an orc away from me. Of course, you would do well to remember that it was I who saved you from an orc regardless. Still, if you wish to be left alone, far be it from me to insist on staying.”

You moved to stand, only to have him catch you by the wrist. “No, please,” he said softly, looking up once more, “don’t go. I—I owe you an apology for that.”

“To save your sorry skin, no doubt.”

To your surprise, he chuckled. “I deserve that.”

“Oh, that’s mighty big of you to admit,” you said dryly. “How very big indeed.”

“Very well, you’re right, you know. About all of it. And I mean that in the most sincere manner possible. Honest.”

That took a bit of wind from your sails and you sighed. “Perhaps we might fight about it later?”

He bobbed his head. “I wholeheartedly agree with that notion. Much, much later. In fact, we should never speak of it again.”

“Once you apologize, you mean.”

“I just did apologize.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you said you owed me one, which you do of course. But admitting it is not an actual apology.”

To your surprise, he burst out laughing. It was cut short by a sharp inhale of pain, but his smile only wavered as he snorted, “You’re joking, right?”

“You mean to tell me you honestly considered that an apology? Those sorry words? Truly?”

“Well…” he nodded. “Yes."

“Fine.” You stood up and brushed dirt and crushed pine needles from your backside. “I’ll bid you good eve then. You should hope you’re mobile once more before they come looking for their friend.”

You had every intention of marching off, of just leaving him there to rot, not caring if any more orcs happened upon him. It would serve him right. Apology. Bah! He could go pound sand, as Papa would say.

However, you only got maybe ten feet away when your conscience got the better of you and you came back to find he hadn’t moved an inch. 

“Come,” you growled, crouching beside him once more to take hold of his left wrist. “Let’s get you back.”

“I didn't know you cared,” he said even as he allowed you to help him up.

“I don’t. I should let you rot.”

“So, why aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. I’m a soft-hearted fool, I suppose.” You gave a not so gentle tug. “We should go. His pack is bound to notice he’s not returned and I do not want to have to explain to your uncle how I let you get butchered by orcs.”

“I’ll be forever grateful,” he replied drolly.

“Do you wish my help or not?”

He draped an arm about your shoulder. “Yes, of course I do. And I appreciate it as well.” He winced. “How far are we from Edoras’ border?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

“That far, eh?”

He leaned heavily on your shoulder, and you tried to ignore the stinging along your neck, the dull ache that spread down into your shoulder from bearing the brunt of his weight, as he was considerably taller and heavier than you were. “I’m afraid so, yes.”

“Wonderful.”

For reasons you couldn't begin to explain, the drollness in his deep voice made you laugh. “Yes, I couldn’t agree more.”

You managed to get him back to the road, him leaning hard against you with each step he took on his wounded leg. And with each step, his gait slowed. “Take care,” he said when you stumbled. “It would do us both no good if we fell.”

“I beg your… pardon,” you gritted, hefting him higher on your shoulder once more, “but… you are… not light, you know.”

“I know and I appreciate your help here as well.” He went silent for a long moment, then, drew in a deep breath and added, “And I’m sorry. For what I did at the coffeehouse.”

“All you had to do was come in and tell me you’d changed your mind, you know.” you told him, staring straight ahead, waiting for Edoras’ reassuring lights to come into view. At least then, you knew you’d be close to home and close to safety. 

“The thing of it is, I didn’t change my mind.” The regret in his voice surprised you and you stopped without warning, catching him as he stumbled, then scolded, “Take care, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sorry, but what? What do you mean, you didn't change your mind? Of course you did. I was there, remember? I was there and you were not.”

“No, I know that, but,” he pulled free, easing his arm from about her shoulders before shifting to settle on a rock, “I need to sit a moment.”

You didn't fight him, happy to be free of his weight, even if only for a few minutes. You rubbed the side of your neck. “Only a few minutes, though. We don’t know how much time we have left.”

“I know.” He looked up at you. “I didn’t change my mind, you know.”

“So you’ve said. What you haven’t said, was why you just left me sitting there like a fool.” Finally, you were able to get that weight off your chest, your eyes stinging the way they had in the coffeehouse, when you realized he was not coming through the door. “Why did you do that to me?”

“I was coming in,” he said slowly, looking up to meet your gaze, “and when I saw you… I got nervous and I know that sounds idiotic, but it’s the truth. It was a stupid, fool thing to do to you and I am ever so sorry I hurt you. If I could but do it over, I would walk through that door and we would not be having this conversation. And for that, I am also sorry.”

You had waited so long for him to assume responsibility for how he’d hurt you. And now that he had, you were at a loss for words. How did you respond to that? What did you say?

“Am I supposed to believe you had an attack of nerves? You, of all people?”

“Is that so hard to believe? I’m only human as human as any other man, you know. And that means that yes, sometimes, I have an attack of nerves. I’m not made of stone, I’ll have you know and you—”

You waited a moment for him to finish, your heart beating erratically now as those words were the last ones she ever thought she’d hear from him. But, when he remained silent, just staring at the ground, you leaned in. “I what?”

He looked up then, his eyes soft, and murmured, “You stole the breath from my lungs.”

You could only stare. Were you but dreaming or perhaps he’d suffered a head injury before you reached him? One of those had to be the truth because there was no other rational explanation for his words, no matter how they set butterflies free in your belly to batter your insides with their wildly-beating wings. 

“Éomer, I—I don’t know what to say,” you finally managed. 

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” he replied softly. “And I cannot fault you. But, if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I would like another chance. A chance to right things between us.”

“Things between us? Is there a thing between us, never mind more than one?”

To your surprise, a sheepish smile lifted his lips. “I should like there to be.” 

“I don’t even like you, you know.”

His grin widened. “Somehow, I don’t believe that. After all, you came back, didn’t you?”

“Don’t let it go to your head. I could still leave you out here.”

“You could.” He nodded, then shook his head. “But you won’t.”

You stared at him for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh of resignation. “No. I don't suppose I will.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I knew it.”

You offered up a smile of your own and then, with all the force you could generate, you punched him square in the shoulder. 

He yelped as the blow sent him rocking backwards. “What was that for?”

“Because you, Éomer, are an ass and I should leave you here to suffer whatever fate you deserve.”

“You should, but I wish you wouldn’t.” He reached for your hand, caught it, and linked his fingers with yours. “I am truly sorry, though. You have to believe me.”

“Why should I believe you now?”

Éomer winced as he carefully stood. “Because I would like the chance to right my wrong where you are concerned.”

You looked up at him. “And how do you think you can do such a thing? I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“I’m fairly certain I do.”

He smiled then and bent and before you could say anything, his lips met yours. Despite his wounded leg, he caught your face between his hands, not so much as wavering as his lips moved teasingly and gentle against yours, as his tongue eased between your lips to caress yours, and you shivered at the silken caress. His lips were soft and warm and those butterflies fluttered harder now, with more fury as he kissed you slow and deep and made your head spin as it had never spun before. 

Éomer was slightly breathless when he drew back. “So, will you allow me another chance? A chance to right what I’ve done wrong?”

“By all rights, I should say no.”

“But you won’t.” His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.

“No,” you shook your head slowly, “I won’t.”

In the distance, came the snarl of wargs and that was enough to spur Éomer to drape his arm about your neck once more and say, “We should go.”

“A wise idea, to be sure.”

You made it back to Edoras without incident and you wasted no time in rousing the healer  from her bed, just as she wasted no time in shooing you from the infirmary. Someone must have alerted Éowyn as well, for she came hurrying down the corridor, her hair bound up away from her face and still in her nightdress.

“What happened?”

“He was set upon by orcs just beyond the border.”

“But what were you doing out there?”

You managed a smile. “I was but going for a walk. I was having trouble sleeping, and sometimes that helps.”

“You need be careful,” she warned. “What if you’d been alone?”

“We won’t think about that.”

The healer came out. “My lady,” she said with a tired smile. “His lordship is resting now and he’d like to see you.” 

Éowyn stepped forward, only to have the healer shake her head. “No, my lady, I’m sorry. He meant you,” she said, looking at you.

You swallowed hard. “M-me?”

The healer nodded now. “He was very clear.”

“I’ll just see what he might want,” you said, feeling no little guilt at Éowyn’s almost hurt expression. “And when he hears you’ve come down to see him, I’m sure he will ask you be brought in.”

Éowyn said nothing, but bobbed her head and you followed the healer into the small, quiet, semi-dark room. 

Éomer was abed, the linens stark even against his pale hair, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, as you’d never seen him so informally dressed, his loose tunic left unlaced to offer up an enticing patch of what you were certain was a finely-muscled chest. The image that came to your mind brought those butterflies to life once more deep within your belly. 

His eyes were closed, his enviably thick lashes dark crescents against his pale cheeks, but as you drew near, they opened and a tired smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I thought perhaps I’d dreamed everything that happened this night,” he said softly, “but the pain is far too real.”

“I assume your healer stitched the wound. It looked fairly ugly.”

He nodded. “She did. I can resume duties in a week, according to her.” He gestured for you to come closer and when you did, he added in a whisper, “and we won’t tell her when I’m gone come morning, will we?”

“You should take her advice.”

“I cannot. Not right now.”

“Éomer, you will be useless with only a few hours’ rest and one leg. You need allow yourself time to heal.”

“Are you taking her side?”

“In this?” You nodded. “Absolutely.”

“But… you’re supposed to take my side.” 

“I would be, if you weren’t talking such foolishness.”

“Ouch. You wound me.” As he spoke, he reached out and caught your hand, and your mouth went dry as he gave a gentle tug. “Come and lay with me.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You could.”

“Éomer.”

“What?”

“I don't even like you.”

His eyes glinted with a hint of mischief. “We both know that isn’t true, don’t we?”

“Oh, it’s true.”

“Liar.” He tugged again. “Are you truly going to make a wounded man beg?”

“Éomer.”

“What?” He brought your hand to his lips, to your surprise, brushed its back with a kiss and murmured, “Please?”

You stared down at him for a long moment. “You are supposed to be injured.”

“I am injured. Nearly twenty stitches are holding that wound closed. But somehow, I don't think I’ll mind being trapped in this bed, if I have someone to share it with.”

Your heart fluttered. “Éomer. You are in an infirmary.”

“I know, but I’m in my own room, as you see.” He smiled. “No one will bother us and I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

With that, his smile grew mischievous. “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t. And then, the next time I see you in the great hall or the yard, I’ll just look across at you and smile and only you will know why.”

You sighed softly and then, after a quick look about, gingerly stretched out alongside him, your heart beating faster as he drew his arm about your shoulders to tug you closer. You peered up at him. “And why will I be smiling?”

His eyes glinted with that same hint of mischief that let loose even more butterflies in your belly. “You’ll see.”

With that, he caught you beneath the chin with one bent finger, lifting your face ever so slightly and as his lips captured yours, you smiled. “You aren’t going anywhere come morning, you know.”

He broke the teasing kiss to gaze down at you. “Is that so?”

“It is,” you nodded, “because you have some very real making up to me to do. And I’m fairly certain it will take longer than a few hours."

“Making up to you, you say?” One dark brow arched and his smile grew wicked with promise. “I think that’s fair enough.”

***

Like it? Love it? Comment and reblog to spread it around!

#eomer #karl urban #LOTR #august mashup #august prompts #fotfics august event #sotwk asks #pixie answers #Éomer x reader #Éomer x you #LOTR AU

[ahufflepuffhobbit]

Bruises on the Heart by ahufflepuffhobbit

5 times Thorin noticed his soulmate’s bruises and 1 time he gave them one.

This was written for THAUC with the prompts of 'soulmates bruises show up on your skin' and 'sharing a bed in Laketown'

I was so happy to work with @demadraws for THAUC this year! It was such an easy collaboration, and the artwork is absolutely stunning! Fic art below the cut!

#bagginshield #my fic stuff #the hobbit #fotfics #thauc23 #hobbit event

[ladywithaquill]

You

A Thorinduil ficlet for the Fellowship of the Fics March 2024 Challenge.

Prompts: #4 “Do you know what today is?” #11 Beginning #8 Coffee Shop

#fotfics #thranduil #the hobbit #the elvenking #thorinduil #ao3 #thorin oakenshield #thorin x thranduil #fotfics march event #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

[cilil]

cilil's summer stories '23

Masterlist down below ⤵

Let's have some fun in July with the summer-themed prompts provided by FOTFics~

𖤓 Prompt list: Week 1 ; Week 2; Week 3; Week 4 (prompts all taken now!) 𖤓 Length: Drabbles/shorts 𖤓 Genre: Any 𖤓 Characters: Mainly Ainur; if there are non-Ainur characters you'd like to see, feel free to let me know so I can see if I'm comfortable writing them 𖤓 Ships: All sorts of ships welcome 𖤓 Other/disclaimers: .𖥔 ݁ ˖ No double prompts, please. First come, first serve. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ I'll try my best, but I'm a busy person, so fics may take time. If I get too many requests or don't feel like writing a prompt, I may have to consider rejecting it. Remember - this is a hobby♡

Have fun ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Requests now closed!

Queue: / Finished: 𖤓 Evening ~ Navëquen 𖤓 Fireflies ~ Calamórë | Manwë x Námo 𖤓 Seaside/evening ~ Námo x reader 𖤓 Beat the heat ~ Melkor x Gothmog 𖤓 Postcards ~ Bagginshield 𖤓 Cocktails ~ Gothmog & Irmo 𖤓 Summer festival + money shot ~ Angbang 𖤓 Summer storms ~ Manwë x Eönwë 𖤓 Suntan/sunburn ~ Angbang 𖤓 Suntan/freckles ~ Ossë & Círdan 𖤓 Ice-cold drinks ~ Melkor & Tulkas 𖤓 Dandelions ~ Mairon x Arien 𖤓 Poolside ~ Melkor x Nienna 𖤓 Stargazing ~ Glorfindel x Thranduil 𖤓 Shade ~ Eöl x Aredhel 𖤓 Roadtrip ~ Daeron x Maglor 𖤓 Picnic ~ Fingolfin x Fëanor 𖤓 Grassy hillsides ~ Finarfin x Eönwë 𖤓 Campfire ~ Melkor x Maedhros 𖤓 Fireworks ~ Curumo x Aiwendil 𖤓 Frozen treats ~ Ulmo x Manwë

#blog update #blog housekeeping #requests #summer stories #fotfics #july prompts #fotfics july event

[aeonianarchives]

Handholding

Fotfictober Prompts: 5 - Handholding

Summery: A shy Lindir holding your hand after he comes to the realization after his confession to you that you are courting

Character(s): Lindir, Elrond, Reader, Glorfindel, Elladan

Pairing: Lindir x Reader

Reader Pronouns: He/They

Lindir hid his face behind the book he was taken to Elrond, as you came around the corner talking with your brother Elladan, he tucked himself into a servant corridor instead of using the main corridor, he sighed as he removed the book from his face, his cheeks where flustered red.

It had only been a few days since you had accepted Lindir's confession which was admittedly an accident since he was singing below your room his confession not realizing you were in he thought you were on Patrol with Gildor and Elrohir, now every time Lindir saw you or your name was even mentioned he got shy and flustered.

You were the son of his lord, not just that you were an ellon, while relations with the same sex were not looked down upon Lindir always had that little voice in the back of his head telling him it was wrong to like Ellons most probably from his parents before Lord Elrond showed him kindness and allowed him to stay in his realm as his assistant, did he really have a right to like one of his sons.

"There you are" Lindir jumped and turned to the voice he sighed when it was only Glorfindel.

"What do you want" Lindir said as he started making his way to Elrond's office

"You seem to be extremely on edge around Y/n what happened with you and him" Glorfindel said following Lindir

"What no, nothing happened with Y/n" Lindir said Glorfindel hmmed in disbelief

"Really you don't sound that convincing" Glorfindel said

"Why would anything happen with him, I haven't seen him recently" Lindir said

"Because you are avoiding him, look Lindir, I know that it is not my place to interfere in what is going on with you and him but, every time some mentions him or they are in the room, you get flustered and turn into a stuttering mess and all that confidence I helped you with completely crumbles, I would say you are in love with him, just confess to him, I am sure he also likes you, he talks fondly of you" Glorfindel said

"He does" Lindir questioned the lord, he had only admired you from afar before he accidentally confessed his love to you, Lindir was always to shy to even talk to you he almost exploded with embarrassment every time Elrond told him to give you a message.

You had managed to finally catch Lindir "Meleth why have you been avoiding me, have I done something wrong, have I upset you" you questioned Lindir worried, Lindir couldn't quick walk away from you, you would just worry even more.

Lindir looked away trying to hide his blush his hand brushed against yours and he took one of his fingers in his you looked down in curiosity as he intertwined his hand with yours.

"You haven't done any thing wrong, your perfect as always, I- am just overwhelmed" Lindir said

"You could of told me Meleth why didn't you" you questioned Lindir looked to you, you had a puzzled expression on your face

"What if you were mad, what if you didn't like me and just agreed due to pity, what if" You stopped Lindir

"I would never be mad at you Meleth, I love you for who you are, and you are a overwhelmed, shy, flustered, cranky, introverted elf and I love every aspect of your personality" you told him

"But" Lindir said

"No but's Lindir, you cannot convince me that I do not love you for every part of you" You said

"Even my freckles" Lindir questioned

"Especially your freckles they are like little constellations, like Varda took all the stars from the sky and painted them onto you, they make you even more perfect" you said squeezing Lindir's hand in reassurance, Lindir looked from your intertwined hands to your face, you gave him a smile.

"Gi melin Meleth nin Always and forever nyello nin" You said pressing your forehead against his

"Really" Lindir asked unconvinced

"Really, I will be your knight in shining armour hmm should i get shining armour do you think that would blind my enemys and cause to much of a distraction for them to notice me" You questioned

"Please don't you would be to noticeable so they would all go after you" Lindir said you chuckled

"I was joking do you know how ugly that would look, I have some fashion sense" you said Lindir hmmed

"I highly doubt that all you were is hunting gear even in war, you worry me a lot, you have armour and yet you never wear it, it's the recipe for death" Lindir said

"a small price to pay for good fashion" you replied

"No I would much rather you have no taste in fashion and wear armour to protect you then to not wear armour and say it is not fashionable and die" Lindir said

"I wear it some times, I need new armour mine doesn't fit well, it keeps rubbing and gets soar" you said

"I'll get you a new set of armour" Lindir said going to walk to the forges he only stopped when he was stopped he looked back to see you were still holding his hand, he blushed as he realized how long you both had held hands for.

"And that's how I fell over into the pound" came your brother Elladan's voice

"Your an idiot you know that" Elrohir said, you looked to the corner the two were turning around and pulled Lindir into you hiding your intertwined hands, your brothers stared at you both.

"Have we interrupted something" Elladan questioned you looked to Lindir to realize you pulled him so close he was only centimetres from your face, you looked back to your brothers to see Elrohir pulling Elladan back the way they came.

"Leave Y/n alone" Elrohir grumbled, you looked to your hands and let go of Lindir's who took your hand back and his other arm which rested on your chest due to being pulled into you tightened around your robes, you looked to Lindir with a questioning look, his blush had returned and an even deeper shade of red going from the tips of his ears to his neck, Lindir moved his head upwards and pushed himself up onto his tip toes and pressed his lips to yours.

A million thoughts where rushing through Lindir's head, what if you didn't like the kiss you stiffened and held his hand tighter when he had started, how long should he kiss you for, should it just be a quick peck, you where courting, but this was public what was the right PDA Lindir was never taught it before so he didn't know, Lindir was slightly shocked when he felt a tug on his hair but you had melted to his touch and the kiss, he backed away from you looking at you, as soon as he backed away you had let go of his hair.

"Did we just" Lindir questioned in slight panic and shock

"Yes yes you did" Lindir jumped to the voice attempting to get away from you but you just held his hand tighter stopping him from doing so, Lindir squeaked seeing his lord.

"You both might want to do that behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, you are lucky no one came down this corridor and this bit of it has no windows, but next time you could be not as lucky, I am glad for you both and Lindir welcome to the family now, but next time do that in private I don't want Glorfindel to come squealing to me like a little girl that you both had finally started courting" Elrond said

"Of course Ada" you said awfully composed for just being caught, Elrond picked up the book Lindir dropped when you pulled him in, and walked off back to his study, Lindir had a deep blush on and he hid his head in his hands

"You distracted me to much from reason" Lindir sighed before he bid you good bye with a very shy peck on the cheek, the rest of the day Lindir saw you, you had a smug little smile on your face and your spirits where high.

Elvish translation:

Ada - Father

Gi Melin - I love you

Nyello Nin - My singer

Meleth - Love

#tolkien #lotr #elves #cozy fall #fotfictober #fotfics #october prompts #writing prompts #fotfics october event #middle earth #kidnap fam #jrr tolkien #lindir #lindir x reader #lindir x male reader #the hobbit #lord of the rings #hand holding

[fantasyinallforms]

New Happy Accidents Universe Sequel is now live on AO3! I did this originally for the FOTFics event Summer Stories! Go check them out!

Seaside Secrets {E}

Summary:

Bilbo agrees to go on vacation with Thorin but neglects to ask where until it's too late, and is swept off to a seaside getaway far from home. The issue is that he can't swim, and he's too embarrassed to tell Thorin lest he ruin his vacation plans. Just how long can he keep this secret hidden? We also dive deeper into the secrets of Thorin and Dis's tumultuous childhood.

This is part three of my Happy Accidents Universe! I recommend at least reading part 1 before reading this!

#bagginshield #the hobbit #thilbo #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #bilbo x thorin #FIAF(me)fics #fotfics #fotfics july event

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hey hey~ coming in with a little trick request for your Halloween event!😈

I'd like to see some vampire!Manwë x Námo with prompt number 4 or 9 (your choice🧡). Dark content is welcome, also leaving that up to you.

Thank you! Looking forward to this!💜

Ooh! I have decided to go with number four for this. I also hope that you don’t mind that I took some liberty with the themes and the timeline.

"The choice"

Pairing: Vampire! Manwë x Námo (Calamórë)

Location and time: Halls of Mandos/19th Century England

Prompt : 4 - "Why won’t you let me turn you?”

Themes: Angst | Emotional | Loss

Warnings: Vampirism | Illness (Typhoid) | Death | Blood tears | Explicit language

Wordcount: 900+ words

Summary: Námo falls grievously ill. Manwë wishes to save him.

Minors DNI | You are responsible for the media you consume

A/n: this is for the @fellowshipofthefics October challenge. Two more slots are available for requests, but prompts 4 and 6 (for Vampire! Finrod) are out. The rules and prompts for requests can be read here.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Námo was so still, it was frightening.

He was gaunt, his warm, ivory skin now as white as chalk. He did not open his eyes. Not when his sister fussed with his pillows to make him more comfortable; not when his brother covered his face and wept; not when the physicians spoke to the family in hushed whispers. He was too weak to do anything but rest.

“It is too late,” one said.

“There is little that could be done now,” another said.

“Only a miracle could save him from the clutches of this wretched disease," a third said. “And these mere mortal hands have not been blessed by the divine. You must prepare yourselves. I am sorry.”

One by one, they left. One of the physicians helped Irmo out into a dimly lit corridor, and down the stairs to the parlor. Nienna dithered by the door. Tears continued to streak down her cheeks, but she did not sob. She had to be strong, for all their sakes. 

“You will be wanting to say your farewells, Mister Súlimo,” she said.

Manwë was startled. He had been standing by the hearth, staring into flames that fought to keep the autumn chill from drifting into the room.

“Yes.” He smoothed his jacket and straightened himself, his tone perfectly calm, perfectly neutral. His face was a mask of serenity. “My thanks.”

Nienna acknowledged him with a silent, courteous bow before leaving the room in a swirl of dark silks that rustled with each step she took.

A servant closed the door behind her. The moment the corridor outside grew silent, Manwë's mask of serene composure dropped beneath the crushing weight of unspeakable agony. He did not know how he placed one foot ahead of the other or how he even reached the wide bed. When he arrived at Námo’s side and took an all-too-cool hand into his own, he sank to his knees and sobbed, unable to rein in his pain.

One last time. Manwë prayed, though to which God, he did not know. If only I could speak with him one last time.

Námo finally stirred and opened his eyes. It is as if he received one final surge of vigor. “You...came. Even... even after we argued..."

It was soft, barely over a whisper. Námo shivered, and grew silent. Manwë lifted his eyes. They were wild with grief and filled with deep red tears. More tears left scarlet trails that stained his pale skin. 

“Not even those who hunt my kind could keep me away from you," he declared, and brushed his hand over spun silver hair. It was still soft, slipping around his fingers like silk. Manwë watched with a mournful expression. Soon, he would not be able to touch that hair. 

Námo fought to stay awake. He yearned to reach out and stroke Manwë’s cheek, to offer him some comfort. Alas, he could not. He could not even raise his arm a grain’s breadth above the bed. He only whispered, “Your tears. They… they must not…see.” 

Manwë no longer cared, but he acquiesced anyway. He took out a square piece of red silk from his pocket and dabbed his eyes, his cheeks. Crimson soon soaked into crimson, but at least no one could see even if they tried.

“Why won’t you let me turn you?” The words came out in a smothered sob. “I can save you, little raven. Why will you not let me?”

Ever since Námo fell ill and they learned the cause of it all, Manwë beseeched him to let him intervene. Let me help you, he pleaded. Let me make you into a being like me. Then no illness will claim you, and we can remain together, for good and always.

Námo had a ready reply, and every time Manwë asked, it was always the same. He wished to remain mortal. He did not yield to any other course of action besides heeding the counsel of the family physicians. Then they argued. Caught in sorrow's grip, Manwë uttered things he could never take back before he departed the manor. Only Nienna's made him put aside his confusion and despair and anger, and return. Manwë listened again, certain the answer would be the same as always.

“This… this is my choice,” Námo insisted between labored breaths. “I wish…to leave… this world… the way… I have lived it. As… as a mortal.”

Manwë wanted to argue. To rage. This should not be so, he wanted to say. It was not right. It was not fair.

Twelve months, he thinks. Many a century spent searching for my soul’s other half, and when I do find him, all that is given me is twelve fucking months.  

“Do not…be angry,” Námo pleaded. “Please.”

Manwë stops, hesitates. Heated words soon die in his throat. 

“I am sorry, little raven.” Manwë grasps his hand and brings it to his lips. It is icy now. He smothers another sob. "And forgive me, for what I said before. I offer no excuse for being so cruel."

“There is... nothing... to forgive. Perhaps,” Each breath is a battle now. And yet, Námo persists. “If… fate is… kind, we… we will meet again.”

“I will wait for you,” Manwë vows. “I love you.”

Námo closes his eyes. A strange, numbing sensation crept up his throat. He whispers three words. Three final words, and then he goes still, for good and always. Manwë leans down, and kisses him for the last time. He buries his tears and rises. The fire burns brighter now, warming the room. Manwë does not feel it. The world will never be warm for him again.

tags: @edensrose @asianbutnotjapanese

#Calamórë #Námo #Manwë #Manwë imagine #Námo imagine #Námo x Manwë #the silm #the silm imagine #the valar #the ainur #writing challenge #fotfics #fotfics trick or treat #october event #vampire! Manwë

[i-did-not-mean-to]

🌞Fotfics - August - Summer stories🌞

Splashing - Down by the river - for @sunnyrosewritesstuff (Bagginshield) + Challenge N° 1

Berry picking - Berry happy - for @lordoftherazzles (Ori x OC)

Splashing & finding ways to keep cool - Midnight swim - for @maalezzo (Ori x OC)

Summer rain & Cold drinks - Summer rain (Ori & Fíli) + Challenge "Flashback"

Thunderstorm - Storm (Barduil, Thorin & Dís) for @lordoftherazzles

#Masterlist #fotfics event #august #summer stories

[fellowshipofthefics]

In honor of TRSB wrapping up this month, we’ve decided to call this event “Book Club”. It’s pretty simple, read a fic and tell us about it! If you want to read multiple fics and tell us about those as well, ALL THE BETTER. Every 5 days, we’ll ask you about a specific “section” to brag on. Such as:

Your favorite scene/line

Your favorite character

Your favorite relationship

Your favorite headcanon

What made this fic stand out to you

What you liked about the author’s style

All you have to do to participate is name the fic, author, give the link, give a short summary, and your answer to the section question (above). Also don’t forget to tag it #fotficsbookclub that way we can add it to the queue!

Happy Reading! And future congrats to all the TRSBers! We can’t wait to see the product of all your hard work.

#fotfics event #fotficsbookclub

[emyn-arnens]

On These Hither Shores

Prompt: Friendship for @lotr20

Summary: As the Fellowship travels south, Frodo and Boromir speak of their homes and families and come to understand one another, for a time.

Rating: G

Word Count: 3.2k

The night was silent apart from the footfalls of the Fellowship as they followed the path Aragorn marked for them in the dark. A grim mood had fallen over the Fellowship, worsened by the endless icy blasts of wind from the east that poked their cold fingers down collars and up sleeves and about one’s ears.

Frodo stumbled forward in grim determination, his eyes fixed on Gimli’s axe as the dwarf stumped heavily ahead of him, huffing and stomping his feet with more vigor than was necessary. Even Pippin, walking ahead of Gimli with Sam and Bill, had become uncharacteristically quiet, apparently seeming to sense that now was not the time for meaningless chatter or song. Merry, walking at the front, had long since stopped asking Aragorn questions about the land they travelled through, and Gandalf, following behind them, grumbled at anyone who looked in his direction, his bushy brows furrowed into a stormy line. 

Only Boromir and Legolas, silently bringing up the rear, seemed unaffected. Frodo supposed the Man was used to long, bleak marches and had conditioned himself to not fall into a black mood at every unfavorable turn of the weather. The Elf, he supposed, felt little of the cold.

Frodo stumbled again and squinted at the ground. Though the land they walked through was barren and dreary, its slopes were rough and uneven, and many thorn-bushes littered the ground besides, snagging upon the soles of the hobbits’ feet and catching at the Big Folk’s boots. The bushes were the cause of much grumbling, after the biting wind.

Read the rest on AO3.

#lotrweek #lotr #frodo baggins #boromir #lotr fic #tolkien fic #fotfics #my fic #finally finished this! only 11 days after the event ended lol

[erathene]

A Beacon in your Darkness

100 word drabble written for @fellowshipofthefics 'Luck of the Draw' March 2024 writing challenge. I got 17 ("Hey. Look at me.") and 5 ("Trust"), and this is just what came to mind.

Warnings: Descriptions of a panic attack. It's only 100 words, but I have hidden it under the cut in case it makes anyone uncomfortable.

Yes I have a 5-word title for my 100-word drabble, sue me 😅

......................

"Hey. Look at me."

His voice cuts through the roar in your ears. Warm hands wrap around your sweating palms.

"Do you trust me?"

Yes. You would convey it were you not silenced by the chokehold of fear. Your chest is constricted, the ache unbearable, failing to draw a single breath. The relentless beat of your heart is contrary to the sporadic shudders shaking your limbs. Any control you had was lost, nothing feels real. One thought remains; you just want it to stop.

Brilliant blue eyes meet yours, strong and unwavering, a beacon in your darkness.

"Follow my breath."

#fotfics #fotfics march event #luck of the draw #writing event #panic attack #legolas x reader #legolas x you #fanfiction #lotr fanfic #legolas greenleaf

[heilith]

Coming up later in the day - the THAUC collab. :) Finally.

My lame drabble and my partner’s awesome art piece for the prompt “Musical Bards and their Heroic Muses” - Bottled Up. One more Lindir x reader. Also loosely incorporating this imagine from Imagine-all-the-Elves. 

Poke me if you want a tag. :) See you!

@fellowshipofthefics​

#event promo #thauc22 #the hobbit: an unexpected collaboration #fotfics