#Perhaps next time I could make Sauron?

[melkors-big-tits]

It's time to finally reveal...

MORGOTH IN ALL HIS DARK GLORY!!💖💖💖

Click the pictures for better quality~😘

He came out looking So GOOD~💖

I'm also happy to announce that my teacher finally graded my work

AND I GOT A 5/5!!!🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I really wouldn't have cared what number I got cuz

I FUCKING LOVE HOW HE CAME OUT AND I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF THAT I COULD JUST BURST!!!!💖💖🥰😭🥰💖

Also, also; If anyone's interested, here's the library's official website with the lil' info about Morgoth that I wrote (I messed it up but oh well~ that's what happens when you have learning disabilities/dyslexia😌)

#melkor #morgoth #silmarillion fanart #silmarillion #the silmarillion #tolkien fanart #tolkien #morgoth statue #recycled materials #statue #sculpture #silmarillion crown #my art #tolkien art #recycled art #I'm so fucking happy #And PROUD #Perhaps next time I could make Sauron? #silm art #silmarillion art

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Light In The Shadows

gif made by me

pairing: halbrand/sauron x fem!reader  

summary: you needed to do something before the darkness fully consumed you too, you only wished things could have turned out differently

warnings: heavy angst, slight allusions to sex, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, major character death, toxic relationship, heartache, no happy endings here

word count: 706

this can be read as a stand-alone but i highly recommend reading part 1 first

a/n: i might make an alternate ending to this fic because this is really dark lmao so keep an eye out for that

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

You were becoming what you swore you would not.

Years by his side in his dark realm had proven one thing and one thing only, there was no saving him. His delusions about saving Middle Earth were too strong, stronger than even his feelings for you.

Every second you spent beside him you felt the darkness trying to take a hold of you. Your heart was darkening, your lust for power growing as each day passed by.

But you still loved him. Despite it all.

The Dark Lord — your Dark Lord — had become a part of your very soul.

You weren’t sure when you stopped calling him by his false name but at some point, Halbrand and Sauron had truly become one in your mind. Or, perhaps, you had found yourself falling for even the darkest parts of him.

Instead of pulling him into the light, he had drawn you to the shadows.

You had become his queen and he treated you as such. He claimed everything he was doing was for you, to bring order to Middle Earth and rule alongside you.

Power was still his one true love but regardless you knew he truly did care for you, in his own twisted way.

Even as you began your descent into darkness, he was kind to you. Always so gentle unless you desired otherwise.

As you lay next to him, watching Sauron sleep so soundlessly beside you, it was almost difficult to picture him as the evil tyrant he was to become.

He looked so peaceful with his hair splayed out on the soft pillow beneath him. His arm was wrapped loosely around you, keeping you close to his side.

He did love you, or he was at least good at fooling you into thinking so, and you wished for nothing more than to live out the rest of your days with him. But, even as darkness grasped at you, you knew what you had to do.

You had never been enough and you never would be. The day you joined him you swore to yourself that you would put an end to his madness if there truly was no getting through to him.

That time had finally come.

So you lay beside him with a dagger firm in your hand. Your heart was racing, the pain of what was to come already too much to bear.

It was more painful than the day he told you of his deception. You couldn’t breathe and, for a moment, you considered dropping the dagger to save yourself the torment of going through with it but this was bigger than you — bigger than the love you had for him.

You rolled over, moving his arm as you carefully straddled his lap. He was still asleep, completely unsuspecting of your betrayal, and tears began to stain your cheeks as you finally raised the dagger over your head.

The dagger came plummeting down and, just as it began to pierce through the skin above his heart, his eyes opened. He grabbed ahold of you, preventing your hands from pushing it any further.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, still using all the strength you could muster to push against him.

His cold eyes softened and he leaned up, pushing his lips to yours for a brief moment before letting go of your hands, letting the dagger slowly sink into him.

You cried more now, knowing that at that moment he had chosen you.

“I’m so sorry,” you continued to cry as his hand brushed against your cheek as if he was telling you it was okay.

As his eyes began to close for the last time, you pulled the dagger from him only to turn it on yourself.

This had always been the plan, you knew you could not live without him. When you first walked into Mordor you had already decided that you would not leave without him.

You kissed him again, leaning down onto the dagger you held between you and, as it finally broke through your flesh, a part of you was relieved that it was finally over.

In your dying moments, however, you still wished it could have ended another way — that he could have chosen you sooner.

feel free to let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

tags: @idwtet​ @maries-crabby-cake​

#—dinguswritings ⌕ #halbrand #halbrand x reader #halbrand angst #halbrand the rings of power #sauron #sauron x reader #sauron angst #the ring of power #lord of the rings

[thevalleyisjolly]

I like to headcanon ace!Gil-Galad, who has no intention or inclination to sire heirs ever, trying to set down a stable line of succession to the crown in the event of his untimely death (look, he knows his history, an untimely death is very nearly guaranteed for all High Kings of the Eldar in Middle-earth), only for once in the history of the House of Finwë, no one is interested in the job:

Celebrimbor pays every bard in and around Lindon to sing loudly and frequently of Maedhros relinquishing all claims of the House of Fëanor to the kingship after Thangorodrim, with an extra bonus every time they manage to work in the term “dispossessed.”  Just to be extra sure, he hightails off to Eregion at the first opportunity to hang out with Narvi, who is such a brilliant craftsperson and has zero interest in Elven succession matters.

Galadriel has no intention of inheriting a kingdom, and makes it plain that when she rules, it’s going to be her own fair realm that she established herself.

Elrond is a professional at avoiding crowns, and cannot be convinced or cajoled or threatened into taking a higher title than “herald.”  Ereinion wins a substantial victory when he proclaims in the wake of the war with Sauron that Imladris is the logical choice for an Elven stronghold in the west and that its leader should clearly be his vice-regent in that case.  Elrond counters this by establishing Rivendell’s reputation as a Homely House, which not even the most talented propagandist can spin into anything remotely regal sounding.

Gildor Inglorion is considered at one point, even though no one is quite sure how exactly he’s related to Finrod.  Then again, Gil-Galad reasons that no one is quite sure how exactly he himself is related to the House of Finwë, so it’s not like there isn’t precedent.  When Gildor gets wind of this, he immediately attaches himself to the first Wandering Company that passes through Lindon and disappears for the next thousand years.

So who does Gil-Galad try to make his heir?

There’s really only one clear choice.

Celebrían had an inkling that he might do this, which is why she steamed open his will the night before it was read and made some very convenient inkblots.  With fondest respects to cousin Ereinion, if she’s going to be queen of anything, it’s not going to be because she’s the last resort.  Anyways, it seems excessive to go on with the business of High Kings and High Queens as if there were still any great Elven kingdoms west of the Misty Mountains.  If she really wanted to be an Elven-queen, she’d go depose Thranduil or Amroth, and she’s no Fëanorian.  Sometimes she’s an Arafinwëan, mostly when it would annoy her parents the most, but a Fëanorian?  Never.

(It’s a shame, Gil-Galad comments to her several millennia later in Valinor.  He’d had a thought that perhaps a High Queen of the Eldar could break the streak of tragically heroic deaths that the High King position had going on.  Celebrían agrees that it’s an interesting thought experiment, and so does Grandpa Finarfin.  Before the rest of Valinor knows what’s happening, he’s cheerfully abdicated the throne to his beloved granddaughter and seized the opportunity to retire to the beach and spoil his grandkids)

((Galadriel is very proud, and promises as a coronation gift to only give one piece of micromanaging counsel a week))

(((Also, it turns out that it is actually possible to get Elrond to accept a royal title so long as he can just be Prince Consort and not any kind of heir apparent.  Gil-Galad wonders if he ought to have tried that during the Second Age.  Elrond reminds him that they'd both been too busy rebuilding the world back then to get married, and anyways, their old tactic of acquiring allies with the dangling temptation of a bachelor king wouldn’t have worked otherwise)))

#lotr #silmarillion #gil-galad #long post

[outofangband]

Complex trauma and Angband Series: Hygiene

Angband World Building and Aftermath of Captivity Masterlist

Torture, especially in the deliberate and political sense is designed to eradicate the victim’s sense of self by, among other things, stripping away one’s basic physical needs (food, water, hygiene, rest,) and one’s  basic emotional needs (safety, comfort, belonging, privacy, hope, and identity). It also seeks to damage the relationship that the victim has with these needs.

I have a specific post about privacy that will overlap with some of this

content warnings: general Angband warnings of Captivity and abuse, trauma after torture, etc

Hygiene in Angband is very minimal. The slaves who work in the mines and forges are afforded very little supplies for washing, perhaps a few cloths and run off water if any can be saved and hoarded. Again this is a combination of items sorted through prisoners who have been there for a long time and know what can be saved without punishment as well as supplies given by the overseers.

Prisoners who work in the fortress itself are sometimes allowed a bit more water to clean themselves, depending on where they work, how visible they are, and what role they primarily fulfill. Prisoners who are more clean are often the favorites of various higher-ups who have a vested interest in their appearance or who use access to supplies as coercive ‘rewards’  and thus cleanliness rather than the opposite becomes stigmatized in many ways. This will have more detail on my post about the elves of the upper levels. Sauron’s personal servants of course have a high standard of hygiene as do the elven healers.

Among the small population of human slaves, diseases of poor water, food, and crowded conditions are common There are certain afflictions even the elves are not entirely immune to.  There are healers among them but they too have little supplies and must improvise (and yes I have many ideas for how mushrooms, evil herbs, algae, and other Angband possible ingredients could be implemented)

Access to a proper toilet is also next to nonexistent in much of the fortress. Some of the cells have a bucket but it’s not a priority among the elven prisoners. The slaves in the mines often have nothing while they work and in the forges it’s only marginally better (if only because urine is potentially reactive to some of the substances there). This is consistently demoralizing and humiliating and the level of control over one’s bodily functions is frequently utilized for punishments and even games.

Only in the medical wings and among the personal prisoners of some higher ups is consistent access to a proper toilet the norm.

The effects of all of this are profound and long lasting. Inability to bathe not only is an exertion of control felt acutely by the prisoners, it also often relates to an inability to feel like oneself.

Following captivity, many struggle to integrate bathing and grooming into their routine. Some continue to associate beauty and cleanliness with its associations in Angband.

Just like with other activities it takes great will to make even seemingly simple decisions such as going to bathe. Many survivors of Angband experience a constant dread that they are out of place or will be caught out of place.

Not to mention other aspects of complex trauma such as depression and self image issues as well as physical symptoms like chronic pain can impact ability to care for oneself in this way.

My own headcanons regarding my case studies, Maedhros and Húrin (feel free to request more about this or other prisoners)

-In Angband, I do still enjoy the headcanon Maedhros is bathed primarily when he was presented for some public occasion in the beginning(even before the cliffs he is a trophy…) and it’s harrowing and mortifying and invasive and as much a form of abuse as anything else. Angband is talented at making even and especially the most simple things into a horrible ordeal. This isn’t a common occurrence but it was enough to have an effect on his view of himself

-After Angband baths are very vulnerable especially and he has to relearn his right to privacy and this relates with self image issues. His view of himself is fragmented and he does not recognize his reflection.

-It takes awhile before the image of someone clean and put together in clothes he chose begins to feel like his own.

-The severe physical consequences of his time on Thangorodrim make this harder in the beginning too

-Húrin cares very little for his appearance after his release though at times suffers sensory flashbacks that lead him to try to wash away phantom touches, sometimes to the point of opening old scars.

#the silmarillion #maedhros #Húrin #the children of húrin #musing and meta #in the iron hell #post Angband

[ramoth13]

A few thoughts on Galadriel's Valor, Story, and "Girl-boss" energy

I've seen many things written about the "girl-bossification" of Galadriel, as though she 1. did not need anything extra given to her character, 2. she was diplomatically power hungry rather than vengeful, and 3. she was already Married and had her daughter by the time this show was taking place.

I'm not attempting to defend any creative choices or say why the show is "right" to portray them as they have, but I do think some things could be discussed with a bit more context and I do love some lore-diving and graceful discussions, so here goes.

To the first part (1.), she is recorded as not only engaging in the first kinslaying (she fought AGAINST Feanor, protecting the Teleri, but almost certainly killed other elves and elves aren't known for their weakness), but Tolkien himself said she was a "great warrior" in her youth. In the same vein, canonically she did initially go to Middle-earth to rule, but that is not clearly stated to be false here, merely that she is currently fueled by anger, pride, and vengeance, and rejecting the Valar's pardon which is canon for the most part (pg. 242 Unfinished Tales). Again, not defending, but I do think that this fits into established context as well as the next two points.

2. We're not given a clear reason as to why she, specifically, comes to Middle-earth in the show. There is a general reason why the elves go, yet not her. But I also realize that such logic goes both ways and I also understand that adapted stories are told by admissions AND omissions. However,

3. We know soooo little as to the intentions of the story yet. There's so much left to see, but the one thing I do think is the most important to bring up is the fact that this "character reversal" has been done before, by Peter Jackson and the character of Aragorn.

Aragorn in the books not only knows he's the king, but is downright giddy and excited to get going, reforging Narsil into Anduril before they even leave Rivendell. The rest of the trilogy is him slowly spreading his influence and making his grand "Return" Yet, in the movies it's the exact opposite. Movie Aragorn is not just reluctant, but almost hostile to the mere idea of reclaiming his throne, and slowly throughout the series he is pushed towards that reclamation of power.

In the RoP, we see Alatáriel/Artanis (Galadriel) as the daughter of a great Noldorin lord, single and alone in a quest for vengeance. Yet, we know she will become the most influential Elf in all of Middle-earth. The reason she doesn't fit that bill yet is because THAT is the story that I think they are telling. Literally the first episode is setting up the journey towards finally letting go of the sword, claiming the influential (but non-martial) power of her birthright and marrying (quite scandalously, I might add) a sindar elf that will unite the Noldorin and Sindarin Elves into a United people.

I think the story we are going to see is Alatáriel, the sword-wielding daughter of Arafinwë, become the Galadriel, Queen of the Elves of Middle-earth.

(*POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR SHOW-ONLY WATCHERS*)

After all, when Sauron/Annatar does return and sway the Elven people, there are only two elves that find him untrustworthy and reject him (Galadriel and Elrond).... and the fact that no one listens to her has always been questionable and unexplained in the cannon narrative. If the most powerful and influential leader alive said someone seems sketchy and shouldn't be trusted, it doesn't make sense that you'd ignore those warnings off-hand, especially if she was regarded as one of the wisest elves alive.

But if it's a blood thirsty, vengeful war-leader who has spurned the commands of her king who is saying that this beautiful and gracious elf who has been kind and generous and infinitely helpful to all of her people is actually evil incarnate, perhaps she would not be given much credence and would instead be ignored. It might actually HELP explain a few things lol.

(*POSSIBLE SPOILERS CONCLUDED*)

In the end, we will simply have to wait and see. But I think she's (Morfydd Clark) bringing something to Galadriel we have never seen but always known about, and that's a personal history. Just like Aragorn, I'd bet my last penny that we will see the Galadriel we all know and love, but that's the journey she is on. And I am so excited to see it happen!

But perhaps I'm like Elrond and harbour naive hope for the future, only time (or perhaps a certain Elf's magical mirror) will tell.

In any case, I wish you all well!

Na lû e-govaded 'wîn, mellon nin!

~ Ramoth13

#ramoth13 #fandom #lord of the rings #silmarillion #the hobbit #rings of power #galadriel #jrr tolkien #tolkien elves #tolkien #histories of Middle-earth #tolkien lore #morfydd clark #noldor elves #Noldorin #Sindarin #sindar elves #the rings of power

[saurons-pr-department]

I've been thinking a bit about how I would like to see a depiction of Sauron's time following the War of Wrath, in particular his potential for having, for a short while anyway, 'redeemed' himself before falling back into evil.

Now, I love a true (attempted?) redemption arc as much as the next pr department, but I'm not convinced that's quite what we'd be looking at here. As far as he was concerned, prior to the War of Wrath, he was serving the True King of Arda. (We're told he genuinely wanted Melkor to win the war and there are some elements that make me view him as a somewhat fanatical follower of his lord). He then witnesses their enemies brutally defeat Him, distroy the land that should have been His and then leave the mess behind them. I'm not sure he'd really go straight to "are we the baddies?" here*. If he belived in Melkor's cause, then I don't see why he wouldn't have thought of themselves as the good guys. And with the state that Middle Earth was left in after the Valar attacked, as well as their treatment of his lord, I don't think there's anything in front of him to tell him otherwise. In other words, there is nothing to be redeemed from. At least in his thoughts initially. And I think this is where we see the flaw that allows for him to slip back into evil. What we view as evil and what he views as evil aren't the same thing. His actions are a means to an end, and the end he has planned is so perfect that it'll justify any means. He genuinely wants to fix Middle Earth. Unfortunately for everyone involved though, his moral compas has never really had a good idea of where north actually is...

That isn't to say that I don't think he would learn nothing. That would be too static. I just think it means that there may not be any need for him to actively attempt to be a better person or to be actively trying to turn over a new leaf. I don't see that as something that should be focused on in a failed redemption story for him at this point in time. (I think that would suit post canon better, and perhaps even give it more weight because he can see his failure here and how close he could have been). I think he would eventually question at least some of his past actions. He would find things in his new life that he enjoys. Perhaps he's reminded of how much he loves creating instead of destroying? But I don't think he's setting out to do that. He's setting out to get involved and help restore Middle Earth because as far as he's concerned he's already one of the good guys. For me, this story would need way more layers to it than him simply saying "I'm good now. Actually, never mind, I'm evil again". I think it's far too black and white for how he sees himself. I don't think at any point does he truly think of himself as evil. He thinks of himself as right. He just has a very warped sense of right and wrong. His fall back into evil is inevitable, but he doesn't realise he's doing it because he never considered himself evil in the first place. This is why he fails.

[*I know he presents himself to Eonwe for pardon, but since he nopes out the second the Valar and Valinor are mentioned (and he suspects that he'll end up losing the status that he enjoys in Middle Earth), I don't really know how much of that came from a realisation that he had done wrong. It seems too quick for a realisation like that. So I'm taking it a bit more like either covering his ass or a moment of doubt in the face of utter defeat that then passes once he gets a little slap of reality.]

#mairon #sauron #silmarillion #is it just me or do i just write what is essentially the same sauron essay over and over again? #anyway as usual i thought this was incredibly stupid as soon as i wrote it but we'll post it anyway since i spent time on it #my new thought #mairon didn't know he nearly had a redemption arc #which is why it's a 'some think it was genuine some think it wasn't' kind of deal #he really is his own biggest problem

[myfavouritelunatic]

The Blacksmith

Sorry for the delay in getting this one edited and uploaded! Back at work this week and my schedule is packed! Thank you for your patience! ❤️

This next chapter is another one I’m super proud of, I really hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader

Word Count: 4k (my longest yet ahhhh!)

Warnings: SMUT! NSFW 18+

Links to Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, and Twenty-One!

Chapter Twenty-Two

And so the days went on, and your heart began to heal. Nothing would erase the horrors you had wrought, but you were convinced now that the inevitable outcome, your defeat of the darkness, would set all things right. You let yourself enjoy the time you shared with Halbrand, not anxious to rush your journey, though not forgetting that haste must be made. Every moment with him was a blessing. Whether it was just the feel of his body as you held on to him on the saddle, or his laughter in the air as he teased you playfully between bites of food, or even the unequalled, unbridled sequences of rapture you gave each other almost every night before slumber. This is what happiness felt like.

Unfortunately, now the more east you rode, the closer the land of shadow grew. Soon in the distance, you could see the blackness that had enveloped the Southlands. It looked a realm of death, a dark place that the forces within you both begged you to consecrate, and the closer you drew to it, the more the evil parts of you stirred, growing restless of your resistance.

"How much longer do you think, Halbrand?" you spoke, raising your voice to be heard over the wind and the sound of the horse's hooves rapidly striking the ground. "Once we turn south... two... perhaps three days at most. It could be longer if our ride gives out.  He's not meant to carry two for this long, nor this fast." he answered you over his shoulder. "Are we certain there is not a shortcut we could take? To make the journey brief for our boy here, and to divert away from..." your voice trailed off as your eyes darted to the malevolent clouds above the horizon, and Halbrand slowed the steed down to a halt. "Speaking of our boy, let's give him a rest shall we?"

You nodded and hopped off the horse, Halbrand swiftly joining you on the ground. He wandered away from you, facing towards the land he inadvertently ruined, lacking subtlety in avoiding answering your question. Taking in the view before your eyes, you studied Halbrand as he stood on this hill you had come to rest on, his black cloak, his hair, billowing in the breeze. The scenery in the foreground was filled with rich green grass covered in small patches of wild flowers here and there. Trees scattered across the landscape, with mountains framing your vision to the right and of course, in the distance ahead.

  A distance that held within it a jarring contrast to the lands before it. Flashes of lightning, bright as the stars, burst through the thick plumes of cloud that were more like smoke, like a poisonous gas consuming all it touched. Everything was darker than you remembered last time you looked upon it, and the shadow was spreading quickly. Suddenly your eyes were pulled to a single location. Orodruin. You could just make out the bursts of lava and fire that erupted from its peak.

A chill ravaged your senses, and your mind took you back to the nightmares Sauron had seeded within you. You remembered the first of them, where you had stood side by side with your love, in a location not too dissimilar to where you were presently. That same black cloak, it moved in reality exactly as it did in your dream. Absorbing all light and reflecting nothing back but the evil trapped within. What thoughts were passing through Halbrand's mind as he stared at the land he had sought to make his own, first as Sauron and then as king of the Southlands? Was the tragedy of what had transpired too much for him to bear? Or was his darkness roaring in his chest in a maniacal applause? The most eager it had been to steal victory over its enemy and claim Halbrand's body and spirit at long last.

Halbrand turned his head slightly, gazing at you with one eye over his shoulder, an eye that was consumed by fire. You gasped and he turned to face you, both his eyes aflame. He slowly raised his arm, gesturing for you to come near. You did not move, only watching as he morphed into the monster you both dreaded he would become. Sauron. The shadow raced towards you both, stretching out above you and beyond, stealing all light and warmth. Adorned now in charcoal armour, complete with crown and a vicious sceptre, the dark lord carved an imposing sight, his black cape frayed yet still flowing ominously. It was then you noticed a thing of colour on the hand that reached for you, a band of gold. A ring. He smiled with wicked delight, speaking your name with no trace of Halbrand's voice left to be found.

You couldn't resist. Slowly moving towards him, your body filled with desire, arousal, excitement. You wanted this. As you made to take his hand,  you noticed the ring on his finger was illuminated with words you could not read. Upon contact, your hand began to burn, and with a flash of white light, all was revealed to have been in your mind. For you looked over at Halbrand, struggling to catch your breath, and he had not moved an inch. Still staring mournfully towards the black land that wished to claim you.

He turned his head, mimicking his movements in the vision that had just plagued you. Yet thankfully, his eyes were not of fire this time. You walked carefully to him, struggling to convince yourself that what your mind had just conjured had been unreal. Detesting the darkness within you for tricking you so, you decidedly took Halbrand's hand in your own without hesitation, to show you had not been spooked by what you had just seen, refusing to give it the satisfaction that it craved.

  "Are you alright, my love?" you asked him, forcing your own troubles to the background. He spoke without looking at you. "So much... darkness. I thought... I thought I would be satisfied when this day came. I remember when Morgoth and I first spoke of this plan... that even in defeat, we would be victorious. We would still have a claim to this Middle-earth, and no power would be able to stop us." You felt his grip on you tighten, and you grabbed his other hand, pulling him to you so he faced the shadow no longer. "It's amusing what the passing of time does to one's purpose." Halbrand finished his thought with a small smile, yet you could still see the anguish in his eyes. It wasn't going away. For either of you.

"I... I still crave it. Power. I see this land before me and yes I am horrified by what it has become... though... I cannot help but imagine... what I could make of it... what I could... create." His eyes were alight with the possibilities you knew he was imagining, and you saw him begin to drift away from himself. "Halbrand!" you cried, taking his face in your hands in an attempt to ground him. "Let it lie, do not give in to it. Do not give it what it wants." "You don't understand... you cannot conceive just how long I have waited for this!" he yelled, pulling your hands off of him. "It's right there! My kingdom! My... throne." "No, Halbrand! No!" you cried out in desperation. "Your kingdom awaits you still, your people await you! We will reach them soon and you will forget about this dark place. It is not your destiny, remember? Remember our love, remember the people we slaughtered, remember our quest for redemption, remember Galadriel..."

  The exasperation began to quell within him, his face losing the mania it was beginning to succumb to. "Galadriel..." The elf's name was thick with sorrow as it escaped his lips. Her name had seemed to trigger the goodness in him to come forth, a key that locked away his darkness. "I pray she will see what we become, what we will do for this world." "She will, my love, she has to. Galadriel told me that she bid you to be free of your past. She only wants goodness for you." "That was before she found out the truth. It will take much more convincing than I think either of us capable of. We have to find a way." "Then let us linger here no more. Our sanctuary, our chance... it is almost upon us."

Halbrand took you in his arms, pressing his lips lovingly against your own. The kiss was brief but beautiful, the two of you holding each other atop this hill, the wind running through your hair, your clothes. Resting your head against his uninjured shoulder, you both stared at the shadow one last time, letting it galvanise you like never before. Like the war that raged within, this darkness was visible and uncompromising. Battering against the light, seeking to infect it. The land of shadow existed now to remind you of your cause, of what you must do, must overcome.

  Halbrand placed a lingering kiss upon your head. "Thank you," he said, uttering your name. "No need. I'm just relieved I was able to pull you back this time." "As am I." He ended his sentence with another brief contact of your lips, before taking your hand and leading you back to where your boy awaited for the journey to continue.

You rode on down the hill, the former Southlands disappearing temporarily from your view, only the edges of its clouds now visible. After a few more miles of galloping, you had finally reached the point where you would turn south for Pelargir, turn away from the clutches of evil. Looking out at the mountains before you and how they stood like the fangs of a beast, anxiety began to brew, unstoppable in your mind. You feared that there was still a chance Halbrand would ride on, continuing towards treachery. The relief you felt however when he turned your steed southward was unquantifiable. You let him know with a loving squeeze of his arm and a kiss to the back of his neck. A smile spread wide upon your face. Your struggle was far from over, but the direction in which you were headed now gave you such strength to continue on. The shadow was at your back, where it should be.

Another sunset began to burn the sky, you had lost count now of how many days it had been since you left Eregion. With your arrival at the city drawing nearer, the urgency for it had never been greater. At last, there was hope on your horizon. As the sun gave way to the rising of the moon, Halbrand brought your horse to a stop, and you dismounted, him fastening it to a tree nearby. You searched the sack attached to the saddle for your food, the distance between its opening and you touching the potatoes now the furthest it had been. Clasping your hand around the final one, you pulled it out. "We better make this one count." you stated. "What of the bread?" Halbrand inquired, as he collected sticks and twigs to make a fire. "I'm afraid it's almost gone as well." you sighed, hoping there would be no more than two days left on your journey, as you doubted you would be able to make it last much longer. The food had already been stretched out as far as it could, thanks to your love not needing it as much as yourself. You grabbed the remnants of the loaf, and the metal plate, walking over to Halbrand who had been quick to get the fire going. Placing the plate over the fire, you handed him the bread, and sat down between his legs, resting your back against him. He wrapped an arm around you and placed a tender kiss on your temple as you removed your dagger from its sheath to peel the potato. Then he held up the bread to your lips, and you took a bite.

  "This bread has really grown on me," Halbrand spoke, his mouth full. "I think the flavour improves with age." You rolled your eyes. "You cannot be serious." "Oh yeah, are you joking? Why this is the finest of its kind I've ever had. The course texture, the hardness of the crust, the dry taste that lingers longer than it should. It's a delicacy, and we should be grateful for it." It was with these words that you stopped peeling and moved to face him directly, a quizzical expression etched on your face. "You know, I'm unsure if you mean what you say or you're just having me on?" "Perhaps both." Halbrand stared at you blankly, and you glared at him as he took another bite. He snickered at you, the light from the fire dancing in his eyes, and he playfully kissed you on the cheek. You couldn't help but smile slightly at him before turning back to the potato, the centrepiece of your forthcoming feast.

  It wasn't long before you were both downing crunchy morsels of the fried vegetable, and you ate slowly, savouring every little bit.  "I shall miss those potatoes." you hummed, swallowing the final piece, your hunger satisfied for now. "There will be more, my love, soon." said Halbrand, giving your arm a comforting rub. Dusting your hands of the remaining crumbs, you moved yourself so your head lay against his chest, your fingertips running over the fabric that covered his stomach. Your love tightened his embrace of you, and you heard a content sigh escape his mouth. Listening to the beating of his heart, a constant drum, keeping the time of his existence, you closed your eyes. Then out of nowhere, Halbrand began to sing, a slow and melancholic refrain with a beautiful crescendo towards the end:

"The fire, o the fire, burns so blindingly leading me astray across the sea a pure force used for evil and bending things to my will dangerous the flames, they feed nowhere to run, no warnings to heed for the light it will consume thee shackled, it will not free me the shadow it fades, but not away retreating, yet there at break of day unforgiven, haunting this land, no destiny to see yet all has changed now you belong to me And now the fire, o the fire, that burns so blindingly is our love immortal, burning for eternity."

His words were poetry, telling his story almost as if it were a myth, a tale of old. You had not heard Halbrand sing before, and now it was all you wished to hear forevermore. For his voice was divine, lovely and tragic at the same time. There was not a sound like it, nor would any other music surpass it. And you not only heard it, but felt it, experienced it vibrating through his chest as you laid against him. You smiled warmly as you listened, tears glistening in your eyes. Once he had completed his ballad, you lifted yourself up so your faces were barely inches apart.

"Where did that come from?" you asked, stunned. "You." One word was all he needed to say as he beamed at you, his face glowing in the flickering light of the fire beside you both. You crashed your lips into his without another thought, his hand quickly at the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he returned your kiss passionately. Your nails grazed his neck as you clasped him, and he moaned a little into your mouth. Stradling him now, you let your kisses trail along his jawline, to his ear, then down to his neck. The feel of your lips and tongue there on his skin caused him to moan louder. After a few moments of this, he grabbed you by your hair and pulled you back up to face him, desiring his tongue in your mouth once again. It wasn't long before your hands were grasping at his clothes, pulling them off and tossing them aside.

The torc stayed on of course. It always stayed on.

Halbrand undid the clasps of your dress, taking a little longer than usual. "Oh just rip it off, my love." your arousal speaking for you, all logic abandoned. "I did pack others." "And ruin this... spectacular dress... I think not..." he retorted at you between gasps. With the clasps now freed, he swiftly pulled the garment from your body, immediately lodging his face between your breasts, running his nails down your naked back, causing you to throw your head back and gasp. You knew his hardened length was but a short gap from your growing wetness, but you didn't want to get there, not just yet. Halbrand was all over your breasts, groping, licking, and biting, your nipples were so hard they began to ache deliciously. His movements caused you to buck against him unwillingly, and he chuckled as your pussy lightly touched the tip of him.

"Someone is eager..." he remarked, staring up at you, his voice bathed in lust, his hot breath tickling your skin. "For you... always." You punctuated your words by pushing him down onto the grass that lay under you both. Wanting to show him just how eager you were, you rapidly adjusted your body, and took his erection into your mouth. Halbrand cried out at the sudden sensation, your name entering the wind. An arm of yours stretched up across his chest, massaging his skin, and dragging your fingernails across his torso. He felt so good inside your mouth, your tongue wrapped around him, your teeth grazing him. Your hand met every movement you made, and you began to taste his arousal. "Wait... stop... I don't... I don't want to... not yet..." Halbrand gasped, his breathing strained.

You obliged him, crawling your way up his body, kissing as you did so. Once you reached his head, he hurriedly grabbed hold of you and kissed you hungrily. Speaking between the touching of your lips, he made a request. "I want you... over me... so I can devour you... whilst you seek your ecstasy..." "Yes... my king..." And so you continued to crawl over him, until your womanhood hovered above his mouth, just like it had nights before. You looked down as he smirked up at you from between your thighs, and watched as his tongue darted out, instantly striking your clit. "Mmmm..." you sighed with delight, not taking your eyes off him as he devoured you exactly as he promised. It wasn't long before your hips were bucking once more, riding his tongue, his mouth, whilst his hands gripped you tightly, keeping you in place in case your body became overwhelmed and tried to escape.

The feeling was completely consuming, every movement of his tongue, his lips caused a different pleasurable reaction within you. You did not have to tell him to do one thing over another, because it was all unbelievably glorious. Your thrusts into him soon quickened, and you could feel the ecstasy you sought approaching fast. "Halbrand! I'm... I'm going to..." "Come for me, my love." His words vibrated through you and triggered your release. "Yes... that's it." he encouraged, sucking on your clit. A scream rang out from you, spreading across the land as far as sound can carry. Your orgasm lasted such that time itself felt suspended, and your body trembled violently. Rolling your body off of him, you fell onto your back, the ecstasy still washing over you. Looking over at Halbrand, you watched as he licked his lips then used his hand to wipe his face, grinning, no doubt satisfied with the pleasure he bestowed upon you. He then turned over to face you, propping himself up with one hand, teasingly stroking his erection with the other. You bit your bottom lip at the sight of him.

"Who needs food when I can feast on you...?" he spoke, his voice low and raspy. You laughed in response, still catching your breath. You moved a hand to his face, which he kissed before taking your thumb into his mouth, the sucking tormenting you. Sighing sensually at his touch, you rose up to replace said thumb with your tongue. Exchanging more kisses of hunger, you lured him to sit upright, deciding your body was more than ready to have him inside of you. A lascivious smile spread upon your face, as you placed your hands on his shoulders and knelt down onto his hardness, letting it slowly enter you. The moans that escaped you both were loud, the penetration simply exquisite.

Halbrand's hands clutched your back as you began to move yourself up and down, savouring the thickness of him as it grazed deep in your wetness. Placing your hands around his neck, you leaned in to kiss him once more, your tongues colliding in a frenzy before your lips even touched. It was then your motions on him increased, and your moaning suddenly jumped an octave as your already sensitive clit grinded against him with every thrust. Halbrand stared deeply into your eyes, his face taken by the building of ecstasy within him. You held his gaze the entire time, not desiring to look anywhere else, nor to close your eyes in surrender to the pleasure. You were drowning in each other, breathing heavy and fast, soaked in sweat.

  "I love you... so much..." whispered Halbrand, barely able to get the words out. You kissed him lovingly, your movements slowing, and replied, "And I... love you..." before crashing your mouth into his once more. It was then that Halbrand took control. Still holding onto you, remaining inside of you, he changed swiftly from sitting to resting on his shins. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, clinging to his body desperately as he thrusted deeply into you, his strength on display.

Your hips met with his again and again and again, his speed was relentless. Foreheads touching, open mouths hovering over each other, you both dug your fingernails into each others backs, no doubt drawing blood. It was this small burst of pain that pushed you both off the edge. Your cries collided as you howled into each other, the euphoria almost too much to bear, you wondered if you might expire completely. His tongue darted out searching for yours, which you took into your mouth, sucking on it feverishly. As you both began to descend from the incredible high you just reached, your kissing became more loving as the lust faded from you. There were long and slow touchings of lips upon lips, with one of Halbrand's hands holding your head. Time really had stopped, and you wished this moment would last forever.

  Eventually though, you felt the fire beside you begin to wane, and the chill of night started to creep in, forming goosebumps on your skin. "I think sleep is calling us, my love." Halbrand admitted, placing small kisses on your lips and cheeks, before laying you down on the grass, removing himself from within you. He wandered over to your bag, grabbing a blanket, then quickly put out what remained of the flames, taking his place beside you, his body and the warm material ensuring those goosebumps would fast fade away. "I don't wish to sleep... even though we must. I haven't dreamt since before I learned the truth of you." you confessed as you nestled into each other.

"Maybe you don’t need to dream any longer. I'm right in front of you." His words were romantic but a little too saccharine. You chuckled, "You think quite highly of yourself, don't you?" "Well I am a king after all... it shouldn't be beyond me to act the part... just a little." He placed a kiss on your forehead, giving your body a squeeze. "Oh your people are going to love you." you teased, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. "I hope so." The last words he uttered filled with honest uncertainty. Perhaps it would be best to keep that infernal vision upon the hill to yourself, for what good would it do to reveal it? Unless of course, he has already glimpsed it. You attempted to search his eyes for the answer, but before you could find it your body succumbed to its much needed rest.

Tagging: @starlady66 @denzit @chimeracuddles @restless-tides @coraleethroughthelookingglass @hikarielizabethbloom @anemarie @mordorgp @michon-ne @vaguelyvibin 

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand/sauron x reader #halbrand #sauron #charlie vickers #the rings of power fanfic #trop fanfic #the rings of power #trop #lord of the rings #lotr

[drpepperhateblog]

HOT D - The End

Remember before House of the Dragon came out when I listed my hopes for the show? 

I was skeptical of the series due to the fact that in the books all the characters are horrible, irredeemable people. While I could accept some outright villains on each side, I hoped the potential rulers, Rhaenyra and Aegon II would at least both be sympathetic, at least at the beginning.

Unfortunately, the Dyana scene has confirmed that they will not be doing that at all. House of the Dragon has instead chosen to make Rhaenyra more sympathetic and turn her into the protagonist of the story. While Alicent is more sympathetic in this version too, she is also not the ruler! There is no reason for the audience to root for the Green faction now. That sucks. That’s not “the human heart in conflict with itself”. You might as well replace the Greens with Sauron and they’d be about the same level of sympathetic.

What’s perhaps more striking is that they have not only chosen to not make Aegon II sympathetic, but they’ve outright made him even worse than his book counterpart.

With that being said, I have to write down all my thoughts.

The Dyana thing is infuriating. Aegon II is now confirmed to be irredeemable. Of course they had to go down the rape route. It wasn’t enough to have him be someone who sleeps around or is surrounded by sex workers á la Tyrion Lannister. The decision now means the only “right” thing to do is to support the Blacks, whereas in the books while everyone were fucking terrible, at least they were all terrible and didn’t receive clear favoritism as Rhaenyra very clearly gets here. It’s disappointing.

Targaryen memorabilia being replaced with stars of the Seven did not happen in the books as far as I know, and it’s quite obvious the showrunners want us to think Otto and Alicent do so because they’re the bad, ambitious, greedy, power-hungry Greens who want to replace the Targaryens with themselves. Boring! Suggestion on alternate ways to do this if they wanted to make it more interesting: Maybe have the Hightowers and other noble lords grow discontent with the Valyrian traditions, like the incest for instance, and be grossed out by it. This would however also require separating Aegon II and Helaena, so that would need to be rewritten if they wanted to go down that route. Or just, you know, don’t write it at all.

Happy to see Criston with the Morningstar that he was supposed to kill Joffrey Lonmouth with. But isn’t it a tad too dangeorus to use against an unarmored prince of the Iron Throne during practice? I do admittedly know nothing about weaponry however.

Why does Jace and Luke not get proper time to talk about the fact that they are bastards? Luke inheriting Driftmark that he knows he has no actual claim to. Jace being next in turn to the Iron Throne that he knows is not his, since he is a bastard. Surely they have some feelings about that?

Why does Rhaenys not advocate for Rhaena and Baela inheriting Driftmark? First off, she believes Daemon and Rhaenyra had her son killed. Explore that, properly. Secondly, Rhaenys was the eldest who was passed over in favor of a less competent and younger man. Laena was older than Laenor. Baela and Rhaena’s claims to Driftmark are just as good as Rhaenys’ (and Rhaenyra’s!) own to the Iron Throne. Instead she doesn’t even try to argue in favor of them but settles for a marriage match, when she knows that last time she did so HER SON DIED! When Laena married Daemon, she died due to his choice to stay in Pentos and not get help from physicians in Westeros (Rhaenys’ words, to be fair, Corlys claims the Pentos physicians are just as capable). When Laenor married Rhaenyra, she and Daemon ordered him to be killed (or so Rhaenys believed). Why on earth would Rhaenys think marrying her grandchildren to a family of people who caused the deaths of her own children is fine?

“I thought I wanted it” Rhaenyra tells her father regarding herself and the throne. Rhaenyra, you did not want the throne. You said so yourself, so many times that Criston even thought you’d be willing to run away from it.

Vaemond should have argued that he is a closer blood relation, being the Sea Snake’s brother rather than his grandson, and also that he is older and more capable. Book Vaemond could not really pull that argument as he was a nephew. But I guess Show Corlys is fine with his brother dying?

Daemon goading Vaemond into calling the Strong boys bastards makes no sense considering it undermines the claim of himself and Rhaenyra too.

Instead of Rhaenyra ordering Vaemond killed Daemon just straight up publicly executes him, because I suppose no one possibly could step in the way or ask the king for orders? The Kingsguard? This is a relative of the royal family! The silent five are also excluded for some reason. Likely because it shows that Rhaenyra is an awful person.

I guess the event where Alicent wears green and Rhaenyra wears black is just straight up removed.

Of course we had to add Aegon II being an ass at dinner. Lord forbid we give him good traits. Helaena also publicly insults her husband, because we needed additional reminders that Rhaenyra is the only good choice and the Greens are bad. Further attempts to make Rhaenyra look good by being the first to arise and compliment Alicent, despite the fact that Alicent’s strength is supposed to be that she is politically competent whereas Rhaenyra is not. At least they added Luke giggling at Aemond and his eyepatch, which does make his “Strong boys” toast a bit more justified. But again, why the hell is Aemond being made more sympathetic than Aegon II?

Excluding Rhaenyra and Alicent having different opinions on what maester should best treat Viserys was unfortunate in my opinion, especially when Daemon acts as if Otto and Alicent are drugging Viserys into being completely incapable.

Where the hell is Daeron?

Alicent misunderstanding Viserys does give her some additional reasons to crown Aegon II, which is nice. But they already have a good argument, and the show seems to forget that frequently: the Great Council of 101.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon spoilers #hotd #hotd spoilers #aegon II targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #vaemond velaryon #rhaenys targaryen #daemon targaryen #viserys I targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #helaena targaryen #otto hightower #daeron targaryen #corlys velaryon

[sarcastic-halfling-princess]

Suspicious Minds - Halbrand (AU) x Reader x Aragorn - Chapter III

Pairing: Halbrand (AU) x Female Ranger!Reader x Aragorn

summary: In an alternative universe, Halbrand was never Sauron. He was the secondborn son of Arathorn II and Gilgraen. Unborn by the time of his father's death his mother, along with a two-year old Aragorn, flees to Rivendell. This fic means to explore both a love-triangle scenario between the two brothers, as well as their relationship and how this would affect Aragorn's character. Basically this is a very self-indulgent fanfic so bear with me.

Word count: 938

Warnings: none

A/N: so this chapter is from the pov of our leading lady. We delve a bit into her background (just a tad) and into her feelings about everything. After this chapter I'll probably make two more. We'll get a Halbrand ending and an Aragorn ending (and maybe third secret ending?? shhh) but I wanted to let ya'll know! Thanks again for all the support!

Previous chapter

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Chapter III - Reader

Her heart raced.

She could still feel the phantom of Halbrand’s touch upon her, see the way he had stared at her. Frankly, It brought a flush to her cheeks and made her palms feel clammy. How had she found herself in such a situation?

The young Ranger had always felt certain of herself and her place in the world. She was one of the Dúnedain, her purpose to protect and serve in need of others. She cared deeply for those around her which included the last heirs of the House of Elendil.

Perhaps she cared for them too deeply.

She could still recall first laying eyes upon them. Aragorn had stood out to her the most then; tall, strong and very handsome even with grime upon his cheeks and grease in his hair. It had not mattered to her for she had been positively captivated by him.

Then came the first meeting with Halbrand, the second son of Arathorn.

By all accounts, she should have despised him.

Loathed him even.

For Halbrand was an arrogant and impetuous man. Reckless and mischievous. He had an eye for chaos; one she had mayhaps foolishly thought would spill over into reprehensible behavior.

Gods, she felt stupid now.

Barging into his study demanding whether or not he had joined Sauron. She knew better; she knew he loved his brother. She knew he would not abandon them; would not abandon her.

She shook these thoughts off of her and decided to prepare herself for supper that evening. Changing out of her silvery dress she dressed her body in a velvety green gown with golden embroidery. Her hair she braided out of her face and once she was done, dusk had begun to approach.

With it, came a knock at her door revealing a smiling Aragorn. She approached dear friend with the same smile; taking his extended arm all too gladly.

‘You look wonderful tonight, little one’, the taller Ranger almost seemed to coo causing pleasant chills to run up her back. Though, internally she prayed for him to cease his compliments. She had already been made a flustered mess by one brother, she did not need the other to chime in too.

‘Thank you, Aragorn’, she nodded in return as her mind recalled how they had bumped into one another earlier; ‘I hope you were not too rough on your brother-’

‘I did not dare after the lashing you gave him’, he gently stopped her as his amusement on the matter made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

At the jest, she felt herself grow a bit embarrassed; minding her footing as she stepped over a root in their path. ‘I did not mean to be so harsh-I judged him unfairly’, she tried but he patted the back of her hand.

‘He was in need to have an earful. Yet he meant no ill intent’, he assured her and she nodded in agreement.

‘I know’, she answered then met his azure gaze with a certain level of uncertainty; ‘I believe he fears to lose you’, as I fear to lose you, she added mentally.

At this, he gave her a burdened, pained glance. She did not know whether he could read the truth from her face but even if he did, he gave no comment on it. Instead he gave her hand a light squeeze.

‘Come. We must not act with such despair as the Fellowship has yet to depart’, he urged.

And though she feigned another smile, deep down she feared to never see him again. To never solve the uncertainty within her heart; to never know whether her heart ached truly for him or not.

These confusing feelings had plagued her so and Halbrand’s affectionate gesture had only worsened things. Truly, she did not wish for her heart to be so fickle as she felt she could lead both of them to believe she had feelings for them.

Yet her stupid, lovestruck heart…

She had drowned her sorrows with Elvish mead that night hoping to dull the ache in both her soul and her head. She had sung and danced to her hearts content, unaware of the two pairs of eyes which followed her delicate moves with affectionate and longing intend.

Halbrand, the bold man he was had even offered to dance with her at some point. And oh he was wicked; making her trip over her feel and fall into chest. And due to all the mead and ale, she had so stupidly giggled into him, chastised him for his deception which he then fiercely denied and blamed solely on her supposed bad footwork.

Gods, she could scold him.

Aragorn eventually asked to have his turn to dance with her. She willfully chose not to see the tension between the two men; all lovestruck smiles as the older Ranger twirled her about. And though her dancing partner had changed, so hadn’t the pounding in her chest; the fluttering of her stomach.

Once again, she felt enamored and spellbound. Wishing for the joining of mouths, lips upon bare skin and the sighs of pleasure fading into the night. Wishing for words of promise and love to be whispered to her and only her.

For a while she could delude herself into thinking all had been as is once was and that no war loomed beyond the horizon. For a while, she could imagine herself a carefree young maiden untethered by the burden of responsibilities; free to bare her heart to not one, but two men he very much harbored feelings for.

But who was she to choose?

Could she choose?

Taglist: @jack-napier-2008 @ofheroesandvillains @actualhawkesworld @woodyrubster @queen-ilmaree @northlilies @faithfire

#halbrand x reader #halbrand x y/n #halbrand x you #halbrand fanfiction #halbrand imagine #aragorn x reader #aragorn x y/n #aragorn imagine #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fanfiction #rings of power #rings of power fanfiction

[wrath-ruin-reddawn]

OH GUYS I JUST MADE A HUGE REALIZATION

So, the thing about Sauron is that he's a masterful liar in that he very rarely actually lies. He merely implies by stating half-truths, and allowing others to come to the wrong conclusions on their own. In light of this, I've been marinating over a few of his lines that felt the most "off" to me, the closest to being uncharacteristically outright falsehoods. And I think I've hit on something.

Come down the rabbit hole with me!

Alright, so the first thing I clocked upon rewatch was the odd specificity during Sauron and Galadriel's chat in the prison. He warns her that “the heir to this mark is heir to more than just nobility, for it was his ancestor who swore a blood oath to Morgoth." Not just an oath, but a blood oath. This calls back to the conversation between Arondir and his captain, where Revion mentions that "the blood of those who stood with Morgoth still darkens [the Southlanders'] veins." It's also notable that the key-hilt relies on blood to form the blade of its sword.

During this same conversation, Sauron also says that "it was [his] family who lost the war." Again, another odd turn of phrase. It's hard to imagine that Sauron is speaking as himself here, given that while he may have loved Morgoth I doubt he saw him as family. But, it also doesn't track well from the Southlander perspective-- they weren't particularly influential in determining the outcome of the war, one way or another. (Or at least, I assume that they weren't, because the Southlanders aren't mentioned in any of the canon texts the way that other humans who sided with Morgoth and fought in important battles were.)

Next is the argument that he and Galadriel have in the forge. I find it very interesting that he leads by saying something objectively true-- that Galadriel doesn't know "what [he] did before [he] ended up on that raft," alluding to his time serving Morgoth. But, curiously, he follows that up by saying that she doesn't "know how he survived," and he seems to believe that it's a sin egregious enough to contribute to them "cast[ing] [him] out" as much as being allied with their enemy-- and not just Galadriel, but the Numenorians and presumably the Southlanders.

And then it hit me. Who is Sauron, besides the Lord of the Rings? Sauron the Deceiver, yes, but Sauron the Wizard, Sauron the NECROMANCER. Sauron, who will go on to start up the cult of Morgoth and perform human sacrifices! He didn't just take the heirloom from the dead heir of the Southlands-- he straight up TOOK THE HEIR OF THE SOUTHLANDS.

Think about it-- Sauron clearly hates being seen as lowly or less than. Why, then, would he choose the form of a "low" man? Unless... he had no other choice. Because his previous form was so badly damaged by Adar's attack that his spirit had to latch onto that of another to survive, a body whose blood was already sworn to Morgoth because of an ancient pact. Halbrand's family really did lose the war, because Sauron is still alive because of them. The war isn't truly over because of them.

Look at this carving from Ostirith! That is human sacrifice right there.

Halbrand isn't just a mask that Sauron created, he was a real person at one point in time. And that is what guarantees that, even if he could be forgiven for his past transgressions, Sauron would never be accepted. If Halbrand is dead, then every word from Sauron's lips has been him puppeting the corpse of a man he murdered, and if some part of Halbrand is alive in there... well, it doesn't bear thinking about. It does make this line much more ominous though:

"Halbrand, I thought you had died."

YEAH I BET SAURON YOU SICK FUCK

God, I haven't even touched on the Mystics yet.

They also lend credence to this theory, because although they misidentified The Stranger (aka Gandalf, he's probably Gandalf), they did seem to have some knowledge of both his and Sauron's re-emergence. Perhaps they're operating under the information in a prophecy about the comet-- it would track with Sadoc's comment that the star fall does "not bode well." However, I do find it interesting that they weren't surprised to find "Lord Sauron" confused, and indeed expected him to potentially resist their help... say, like someone who had come back from the dead and was in a different, unfamiliar body?

And lastly, there’s the music. Oh boy, let’s talk about the music!

The original soundtrack for Lord of the Rings by Howard Shore is famous for its use of leitmotifs, pieces of music used to represent a character, place, or idea. Bear McCreary, the composer for TROP, is following in his footsteps. I’m biased, but personally I love leitmotifs— giving a character a signature piece of music or musical cue makes moments so much punchier. If you’re wondering why the track that plays when the Numenorian fleet departs for Middle Earth, titled “Sailing into the Dawn”, makes you feel like you’ve had jet fuel injected straight into your veins, it’s because in addition to just plain slapping, it’s emotionally satisfying! It’s the grand unification of multiple leitmotifs in a beautiful triumphant tapestry: there’s the Southlands theme, the Numenorian theme, Elendil and Isildur’s theme, AND Galadriel’s theme.

But, that’s the kicker: because leitmotifs carry so much narrative and emotional weight, it’s a huge no-no to use them carelessly. If Theme A has been associated with Character A, you really shouldn’t use it for Character B unless there’s a clear reason for it, like if Character A is taking up Character B's mantle or is being influenced by them. Think of how upset an audience is by cheap twists in writing: it works the same way with music.

This is actually a HUGE portion of why I spent so much time going back and forth on whether I thought Halbrand was Sauron or not-- because Halbrand's theme IS the Southlands theme. "Surely," I thought, "they would have composed an entirely different piece of music for Halbrand if he was Sauron." Because Halbrand is tied so strongly to the Southlands theme, the Sauron reveal would basically tarnish its emotional weight moving forwards, which is a very bold move to make.

And then, again, realization hit me. All of the leaders in TROP share the same leitmotif as the nation they rule. So, Tar-Miriel's theme is the Numenor theme, and Durin III's theme is the Khazad-Dum theme, while their subjects have themes of their own: Elendil and Isildur have the track called "Father and Son" and Durin IV has a track that's named after him. Bronwyn and Arondir also have their own leitmotif separate from the main Southlands theme.

In this way, Halbrand IS the Southlands. And what happens to the Southlands? It's taken over and twisted by the enemy into something unrecognizable... which is the same thing that happened to the real Halbrand. They share the same fate, and so the musical connection is entirely appropriate.

I'm not saying that I'm 100% convinced that this theory is true, but the textual evidence is there. And man, what a great plot beat it would be! To reveal that, the entire time that Sauron has been talking about redemption and recompense, he's been using someone else's skin to do it, callously exploiting the hopes of an entire nation of downtrodden people for his own personal benefit... it would really cement him as a villain in a deeply personal way to the Southlanders, to Galadriel, and to the audience. What a twist of the knife to learn that the bright future and hope that Halbrand represented to his people, the friendship and camaraderie that he forged with Galadriel, were possibilities that had been denied to them because of Sauron and his selfishness.

#the rings of power #trop #trop meta #trop spoilers #i am in my feelings about the southlands #does this make things better or worse? #because on the one hand it would give us the possibility of getting to see Halbrand as just Halbrand in flashbacks #but on the other it's very depressing

[thegreatzombieartisan]

Rings of Power + Tolkien Fusion Meta

Halbrand Stealing the Guild Coin and Selling-Out Galadriel Wasn’t Sketchy But Desperate Measures

Some say his conduct was antisocial and sleazy. I say he’s just a skilled migrant worker trying to find peace

*

The common narratives surrounding these two scenarios is interesting. Perhaps it speaks to my own morality and ethics but I don't find anything reproachable.

To be clear, he's opportunistic and walks close to "the line." Until then, he's just navigating Numenor like a foreigner in a foreign land. Without family, friends, allies, connections, a place to live, and broke AF. Spurred further from a dark past and (sincere but deeply misguided) failed penance.

His decisions are fueled by desperation at the intersection of limited resources and time.

Scenario #1: He steals some blowhard’s easily replaceable coin for a new life

Halbrand has 3 days to convince the Queen Regent to allow him to remain in Numenor. What’s not made clear in the show is that Númenor doesn’t exactly do immigration. Halbrand figured that if he procured a job - and not just any job but a respectable trade like blacksmithing - he’d significantly improve his chances.

To his credit, he tries the legit route but he has to join the guild. Surely it’ll take more than the 3 allotted days. Even so, his request is most likely to be rejected as he's a foreigner, “low man”, and perceived “Elf mate”. In desperation, Halbrand steals the guildman’s coin. It’s not like the guildsman will be prevented from working the next day. Plus that guy’s a dick. Fuck him.

Sure, the game will eventually be discovered. But he’ll cross that bridge later. His main priority is to remain in Numenor after Galadriel is deported because it’s less likely Miriel will expend another ship voyage to deport one nobody “low-man" back to Middle-Earth.

Likely Halbrand banked on his exquisite craftsmanship (plus good looks and charisma) to smooth over ruffled feathers. Imagine him presenting an Aulë-taught Maia-made sword before the Queen Regent and Elendil like BAMMM BOOOOOYYYY

Scenario #2: He didn’t sell Galadriel out - she got herself in trouble

Before he bargained her whereabouts with Ar-Pharazôn for guild membership, Halbrand had every reason to believe Galadriel’s fate was already sealed. Sooner or later, she’d be caught and deported back to Middle-Earth. Why not see if he could salvage the situation and further his own goals?

Galadriel is peeved with him but c'mon, at this point, they’re virtually strangers. Her expectation of loyalty is misplaced. Besides, Halbrand couldn’t bargain with her whereabouts if she hadn’t popped-off at the Queen Regent again before becoming a fugitive.

Sure, Galadriel does save Halbrand life aka his fair physical form from drowning. Eventually, she manages to secure restore Sauron the Southlands expedition which definitely helps out. But up to this point, he likely feels he's “owed” a balancing of scales:

Twice saved her from certain death at sea

Gave her info about orcs

Prevented them from being arrested or immediately deported after she insulted the Queen Regent at court

Bought them 3 days in Numenor

Returned Finrod’s dagger

Provided coaching on diplomacy skills

Facilitated her breakthrough - that she needed to speak to the king in the tower

Thank you for reading! Your likes and reblogs are appreciated. Got feedback?

What did you like? Got theories or insights to share?

Disagree? I love good faith debate and sparring!

Something not quite making sense? Got feedback on readability?

Spot an inaccuracy? Hey, Tolkien's work is complex. Drop it in comments or DM.

#not to be a sauron apologist but #halbrand #rings of power #numenor #meta #watsonian #galadriel #trop meta

[tanoraqui]

Hello! If you are still babysitting the printer or in the mood to answer questions about your OCs, then would you please tell me more about coolest person ever Rawen? Uh, let me think of some questions, answer any of these or just if you have something else you want to share about her. . . Can she cook? Favorite color? Tell me about a time she saved Maedhros’ life? What does she think of Elrond when she meets him in Aman?

I am not, thank god. But I still love to talk.

I don't know if Rawen can cook... She likes to fish, and can do some simple but fantastic things with fresh-caught fish and a handful of herbs over a campfire.

Her favorite color is maroon. This is convenient in the Second and Third Age, post-re-embodiment, when she wants to wear just enough red to visually communicate "I'm not a Fëanorian(TM) anymore, but I'm not not either."

She was the one who finally pulled Maedhros back from the battlefield in Dagor Bragollach, when he'd been holding the gates all but single-handedly for seven days and seven nights, and when the Enemy fell back, stalking around looking for more. He wasn't badly wounded; she already was, in fact; she had to pick her way through corpses and cinders while limping on a cut hamstring and coughing from dragonsmoke. But nobody else quite dared confront their lord in those terrible weeks, however much they feared he would collapse from exhaustion and/or burn himself to ashes from the inside out like his father.

(She never fully healed from those wounds, perhaps because she didn't rest them. She died in the Nirnaeth 18 years later.)

I've mostly thought about Rawen after her re-embodiment, when she basically appoints herself whip of the regrowing Fëanorian faction (mostly re-embodied elves like her who aren't as single-minded about this as they used to be but this is still where some combination of loyalties and ideals lie, younger elves with a thirst for rebellion). Rawen ideally wants a Person to follow, but lacking a sufficient Person she'll take up a Cause; her Cause now is Peace and Cooperation in Tirion (and Everywhere Else if Possible). Arafinwë is good for this - it's his cause, too - so, while even after the War of Wrath he's kinda placid as a king for her taste, she's happy to work with him and nominally serve him.

4,500~ years later, Rawen is comfortably accustomed to being a key political player in her own right, rather than as Maedhros's right hand. She and Fingolfin both, separately, go out for drinks with Arafinwë periodically and complain about the other. (Arafinwë thinks this is funny, and regards it as one of his key kingship duties for maintaining peace and cooperation among the Noldor. He's right.) The Fëanorian faction, as they're still called, has grown and changed far beyond what it used to be, but at its heart are still an assortment of former kinslayers, most of whom served at Himring. 500 years of constant exposure to focussed white flame can make a permanent impression on a fëa.

Like many, in the late Third Age when it's commonly rumored in Aman that most people still likely to Sail will be doing so as soon as this last Sauron issue is wrapped up, Rawen's attitude toward Elrond is eager curiosity with a readied but pending-judgement communist!Bugs Bunny "our child/lord" meme. Imagine you wake up after 1500-odd years being dead and the handful of friends/former employees who survived everything, or at least survived longer than you are like, "Yeah, so, we did...kill people...a bunch more people...we helped adopt some kids, though! They turned out great!" And then everyone else who Sails or re-embodies for the next 4500-odd years confirms that. If Elrond lives up to his reputation, Rawen is totally ready to add him to her short list of people for whom she'd throw her/the Fëanorian faction's political weight behind should they ever ask, for the sake of what could have been if only they'd been Good at the same time they were Great.

(The short list is, in rough order: Nerdanel, Celebrimbor, Celechwes, Fingon.)

Then, just a few years before Sauron's fall, Findis makes her own famous Oath (CFtN Ch.15), holding her own fëa for ransom of the release of Fëanor and all his sons from Mandos; and Manwë declares that the Eldar will decide her and their fate the Eldar overall decide, yes, we'll let them come back; and then when Elrond arrives, he brings Maglor...

Rawen is dealing with political fallout, and trying to anticipate the next political fallout, and trying to arrange the circumstances of the next political fallout, and trying to figure out how she feels about this - how she should feel about this, how she does feel about this...

Righteous Disappointment, is what she more or less concludes that she feels. That she will feel, when she meets Maedhros again. How could he. How could he. She'd believed in him...

No, Righteous Disappointment is how she wishes she could feel, but she's too honest with herself - she probably would've counseled the attack on Doriath, as a best hope (the Enemy would've done it if they hadn't!). She doesn't think she would've counseled the attack on Sirion, but she's talked with people who were there, what those late days were like with darkness spreading and bitter, angry desperation in every breath of air and sip of water. She remembers much the same from the not-days after the Darkening. She knows she wouldn't have turned away at Sirion, much less turned her coat.

She adopts Elrond almost offhand. There's a lot going on. Maglor is...ill, basically, half-mad from isolation and guilt. He hadn't been her lord, but she'd respected him for the earnest effort he put into their cause, so even if she's not sure how much she wants to still be affiliated with the literal House of Fëanor, rather than a consciously idealized concept of the House of Fëanor, she's glad to see him and does what she can to help him heal. Mostly he seems to heal by hanging around Eärendil, seemingly without intent to claim the Silmaril, which is... (ignites a hope in Rawen's chest which she hadn't realized it hurt to be without).

Rawen is pretty confident that her conflicted feelings, plus the distance of time, shake out to sympathetic neutrality re: the literal House of Fëanor. Well, re: Maedhros, and about half the others. She's more Unimpressed with Fëanor himself, and Celegorm and Curufin she'd frankly throw off a cliff for their little spectacle at Nargothrond. If Nargothrond had joined the Union of Maedhros in force, if Doriath had joined the Union in force...

What actually happens, when she meets Maedhros again, is that she bursts into tears and apologizes for losing Himring, which he'd left in her charge when he rode to what became the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. Funnily enough, this is roughly the same emotional sequence of events that happened in the various reunions of Fëanor's sons with their father.

After that initial burst of emotion, she does calm down, and... Okay, listen. She was going to rationally re-evaluate him. She does rationally re-evaluate him. She still mourns what the Noldor could've been when they were fierce and fire-led...but they are fierce and fire-led still, just tempered with long ages of peace rather than swift and savage intent. And Maedhros re-embodied is also tempered with long ages of peace and thought, the wisdom of utmost regret and slow, slow, still-incomplete self-forgiveness...

So, y'know, a few centuries later...when all the Oath-takers including Fëanor himself have returned and proven themselves capable of peacefully sharing a continent - and sometimes even family reunions! - with Gil-Estel...and nothing more dramatic has happened than the assembled line of Curufinwës blowing up the Alchemists' Quarter... Rawen teams up with Satarissë Finrodiel, Celechwes and Arafinwë himself to get Maedhros elected High King of the Noldor. The Fëanorians are back, baby!

(Maedhros was not consulted. To be fair, Arafinwë literally never is, either. For instance, his blissful vacation only lasts one term - but the point is made. Peace, cooperation and re-unification in Tirion, and maybe even everywhere else!)

#the silmarillion #my fic #ok so i went on for a bit #aman ever after #feanor and feanor's kin #ask meme

[theelvenhaven]

Warmth in Winter

Vanifinwe x Oradhon

Warning: NSFW, Sex

Dedicated to @saurons-flaming-eye with her OC Oradhon who we ship together.

Vanifinwe stretched out on the wolfskin rug that lay before the hearth in her shared bedroom. The silence outside stretched into her bedroom as the snow absorbed the usual sounds of the forests that were beyond Minas Mornedhel here in Nan Elmoth. She savored the stretch of silence even if the season and weather wasn’t ideal as it would be painfully cold, the warmth of the fire place licked and laved over her exposed skin. 

Her sheer negligee riding and bunching up around her thighs and a strap was fallen off her shoulder. She put her legs up as she lay on her front, crossing her ankles and slowly rocking them back and forth as her eyes scanned across the tengwar in the pages of her book. Something to help her pass the time as she refused to be out in this weather. 

Vanifinwe was hardly paying attention to the approaching footsteps, or the sounds of the bedroom door opening. Enthralled with what the heroine of her story was going to do next, not noticing as her husband, Oradhon stepped in through the door. He sighed out, bringing a hand to run through his blond hair as he shut the door behind him. Chilled from the winter air outside even despite dressing appropriately. 

He dusted some of the snow off his shoulders, before his silver eyes went to work looking around the room for his wife. Until finally they found a set of feet in the air just in front of the sofa. He smirked, forgetting the stresses of the hunt he usually loved so much as always did Vanifinwe put him in such a good and positive mood. He adored his wife, just as she adored him. 

Without making a sound did Oradhon carefully step across the floor, watching with intense eyes as his wife came into view fully. Her sheer negligee ridden up, exposing long slender legs, the curve of her ass, the dip in her perfect back with tendrils of wavy inky starless hair falling around her. Her skin kissed by the light of the Two Trees with fawn freckles dotting along her skin, Oradhon felt his heart leap into his throat seeing such a beautiful sight of his wife on display. 

He couldn’t help but give a rakish smile, letting his eyes roam over her form, before finally Oradhon opened his mouth to speak;

“My dear you do look lovely.” He began watching the way Vanifinwe seemed to perk up at the sound of his voice, his eyes swimming with desire as he watched her push aside the book and turn around on her back. Leaning up on her elbows so casually, yet putting herself on display for him. 

“Though… Perhaps I think you’d look even more beautiful wearing less.” He said with a wink, undoing the ties on his cape and furs, and letting it all fall to the floor unceremoniously. Oradhon watched the beautiful smile that spread across her full pink lips, looking up at him in almost a coy fashion and already could feel his cock twitch with excitement. 

“Mm.. I think you might be right.” She mused out in a huskier voice, noticing how his eyes trailed from her eyes, to her breasts lingering before they went even lower to the small smattering of black curls that lay between her legs. 

“Perhap you’d like to give me a hand and find out?” Vanifinwe continued with a note of feigned innocence in her voice, watching as Oradhon had already sat himself in the floor next to her. She watched eagerly as Oradhon moved to lean on his one arm, bringing the other to gently run a finger along the low cut neckline of her negligee. 

“I should like that very much, Vani.” The sound of his husky voice sent a fire burning through her loins. Oradhon could feel her body come to life as his hand caressed her collar bones and up her throat watching eagerly as her head tilted back before his hand came up to her jaw to cup. 

His thumb gently stroking her cheek before he slid it back down her neck and this time towards her breasts. Vanifinwe arched her body provocatively into his touch, as his touch left a fire in it’s wake. She was eager for more, for him, to be one with him. 

“Then please come help yourself.” She mused to him as he moved to dip his head in, prompting Vanifinwe to lay back into the floor on the wolfskin rug. His cold lips came connecting to the warm skin of her throat, feeling her quickened pulse beating against him. Trailing soft kisses down to her collar bones, her body again arching and pressing up into him with her hands coming to tangle beneath his shirt. Feeling his cold and hard muscles flex as he held himself up above her and his other hand kneading her breast in his palm. 

“Ah, my sweetheart, ever so eager…” Oradhon mused out with a soft moan, enticed by her restlessness and hunger for more of him. He could feel the way his trousers began to grow tight as his cock hardened. He began to nip lightly at her collar bones, making her shiver at his affections. 

“Always am I eager for you, meldanya.” Vanifinwe openly confessed to him as she freed a hand from his shirt to come and tangle in his soft blond, cropped hair. Comfortable to be able to tell him and not hide her desires for him. Oradhon’s hand released her soft breast, sliding it up to undo the ties of her negligee. 

“As I am for you, love…” He whispered as Vanifinwe guided his head up so their lips could meet. It was a soft and gentle caress at first, before her lips firmly pressed against his. Oradhon maneuvered himself to be in between her legs, feeling how they spread wider to accommodate him and his hands began to make work of her negligee. Stripping her out of it as he pulled it up, his hands skimming across her thighs and hips, up her stomach and over her bare breasts before he parted from her to slip it over her head.

Vanifinwe’s lips connected back to his, and her hands began not wasting any time as they came down to his trousers. Clumsily untying them, fumbling some as Oradhon slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her natural sweetness and the wine that she had earlier. 

He groaned as Vanifinwe’s hand dipped into his trousers, grabbing his cock feeling just how hard and sensitive he was twitching in her hands. While Vanifinwe pulled her hand back to push his trousers down, his cock springing free and her hand found him again. His hips twitching as she began to stroke him, 

“I love you…” She said in a husky breath, lips brushing against his before she kissed him again. There was a heavy sigh Oradhon released and his breath danced across her warm skin, growing drunk off of her affections. Taking a moment to register what it was she said as her hand became more vigorous in it’s ministrations, Oradhon felt pleasure rush through him, finally the words meeting his ears and mind, 

“I love you too, Vani.” He breathed out, reaching for her wrist bringing her to release his cock as he guided it above her head. Vanifinwe spread her legs wide to accommodate for him, eagerly pressing her hips upwards as she looked into half lidded silver eyes. Without wasting any more time, Oradhon guided the head of his cock to her dripping entrance. Parting her folds as he rubbed the head of his dick against her pussy, slickening him before he slowly sank into her warm wet walls. 

Feeling them clench around him, and a soft gasp left her lips. Body arching again, her nails biting into his knuckles as heat pulsed through her, and a coil in her belly winding ever so slightly. Oradhon closed his eyes for a moment as he continued to sheathe himself inside of her, groaning out as his hips met her ass, hilted fully. 

He opened his eyes once more as he rolled his hips, not fully thrusting and he heard her release a breathy sigh. Another pulse flowing through her as his pelvis rubbed against her clit, rolling his hips again, hitting deep inside of her. 

“Oradhon… Please..” Vanifinwe panted out, beginning to squirm, desperate for full thrusts, as his rolling wasn’t enough. It was teasing and he only seemed to do it again, with a small smirk on his lips. Vanifinwe raised her hips slightly, grinding them in return trying to encourage him to take her since her plea was falling on deaf ears, but it didn’t stop her from asking again. 

“Please meldanya…” She breathed out, her body arching as her freehand came to rest on his shoulder, clinging to his shirt as finally his hips snapped into her. Oradhon watched with excitement as he began to fuck her the way her body jolted, seeing her breasts begin to bounce as he drank in the sight. 

Listening to the way her moans dripped off her lips and he panted as her silken walls fluttered around his leaking cock. Even despite the lack of foreplay she was dripping, audible wet sounds ringing out coupled with the sound of his skin slapping against her ass. Desire and pleasure flowed through him as his heart pounded in his chest, before dipping his head down to kiss at her neck. 

Vanifinwe spread her legs wider, tilting her head to the side, her breath tickling his ear as Oradhon kissed and bit at her neck. Sucking against her skin, leaving little red marks in his wake, hips continuing their hard thrusts. 

Oradhon rested on his elbow that held her hand, while his freehand came to dive between their legs where they were connected. His now warm thumb coming to press against her clit and he felt her legs spasm at the sudden welcomed pressure and the moaning gasp that left her lips. Her fingers digging deeper into his shoulder before gliding around him to hold him close to her. 

Oradhon’s thumb rubbed in a slow circular motion against her clit, as he continued to thrust into her. Vanifinwe’s voice climbing higher in her moans and her body squirming as it was all so much and so little in the same breath. But by the stars did it feel sinfully good as the pleasure coated her veins, hands going numb and her toes starting to curl. 

As Oradhone continued to rub a little faster with a little more pressure, Vanifinwe could feel the coil in her belly winding tighter. Her body tensing and winding up, legs trying to close around him, squeezing into his side before finally the flames in her belly leapt forward and the coil snapped. Vanifinwe released a cry of bliss as she came around him, her walls fluttering around his cock making Oradhon shudder.

His eyes committing her spasms and trembling to memory as he watched her unravel in full. She was a beautiful sight as a moaning and whining mess beneath him, especially as he continued. Oradhon’s lips dipping down to capture hers, his thumb leaving her throbbing clit, with Vanifinwe eagerly kissing him back. Wrapping a leg around his waist, and Oradhon began to thrust harder and faster into her pussy. 

Chasing after his own release, his pelvis rubbing still against her clit overstimulating her. Bringing her to whine into his mouth as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, Vanifinwe brought a hand to run through his platinum hair. Angling her hips upward with shaky legs, Oradhon feeling everything tighten, panting as he broke the kiss. 

Groans dripping from his lips, her wetness audible and skin slapping out loudly. He felt his cock twitch and pulse as pleasure before finally his hips stuttered and faltered as he began to cum. Oradhon’s breaths coming out shaky and panting, slowing down in his thrusting before his lips connected back to Vanifinwe’s. Eeking out his satisfaction until he was finally finished and slowly did he break the kiss.

Pulling away enough to look down at his wife who smiled up at him, Oradhon couldn’t help but mirror her expression. Before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead, with care Oradhon slipped his softening cock from her pussy, sitting up enough on his knees to pull his trousers up before he moved to take his place next to her. Vanifinwe rolled over onto her side and Oradhon wrapped his arm around her pulling her in close to him. 

“I love you Oradhon…” Vanifinwe said to him softly, snuggling in close, and he couldn’t help but smile to hear her say such tender things. 

“And I love you Vani… Never leave me…” He uttered, turning his head to press another kiss to the top of her head, Vanifinwe hummed as her arm wrapped around his waist, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Never, meldanya.” She assured him warmly and almost in a sleepy manner. She’d need a bath she was sure of it, but for the moment Vanifinwe couldn’t bring herself to part from Oradhon. She just wanted to be close with her husband, after such a long day alone this was just the soothing balm she needed. 

#Vanifinwe #Anamartinde #failendis #faeleth #Vanifinwe x Oradhon #jrr tolkien #tolkien #the silm #The Silmarillion #silm #silmarillion #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #one shot #one shots #headcanon #headcanons

[rubychan228]

Post-S1 interview with Charlie Vickers

Sauron Actor Breaks Down the Big Reveal in The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power Finale

A few key excepts, with a little bit of emphasis by me.

But I would be lying if I said I didn't already have a big inkling that I was going to be Sauron by that point. My last two audition speeches were a Richard III speech, and then a poem from Paradise Lost where I was literally reading it as Satan. So I had an inkling that there was some darkness within the character already.

The research that I was able to do — The Silmarillion, I read the really relevant parts to Sauron. Rather than making my way through it as a whole, I reread the parts that are really relevant to him. Tolkien talks a lot about his intention behind the character in his Letters. He also talks about him a lot in Morgoth's Ring. So I did all my reading and basically let that inform my performances on the day, because I still have to fully embody Hal, because I think Sauron is fully embodying Halbrand in order to convince people like Galadriel that he's just a regular dude from the Southlands.

During their confrontation, Halbrand makes a pitch to Galadriel that he will make her his queen. What was he trying to do here? Vickers: I think he's trying to get her to join him. I think he's dropped his act as Halbrand, and Sauron has this intention to heal Middle-earth, and to rehabilitate and reorganize Middle-earth certainly during this period of his return to power. And I think he's making that pitch to her. He's saying, "This world, I can turn it into an independent paradise, somewhere that's even nicer than Valinor, nicer than heaven — as long as everyone listens to me." And in her, I think he sees a way into the Elves and a way into the trust of these people. He doesn't really like the Elves, between you and me. He hates them. But I think he sees a way into them with her, and if she joins him he could probably effect his designs faster. But then when she says no, I think it's not that much of a big deal to him. With or without her, he's going to try his utmost to achieve his objective by this point.

And of course, a lot of viewers have been shipping Halbrand and Galadriel. How would you describe their relationship from the start of the season to now? Vickers: Yes, I remember very well. I like to think of it as a cosmic connection, in that he has spent a lot of time by himself — a long, long time. And I think when he meets her, he's finally meeting someone that's on his level closer to him, who has been around for a very long time. They've had this real connection, and he sees in her an opportunity. While I don't think it's romantic, I think it's really interesting and cool that a lot of people read into it like that, and that's the beauty of making things like this — there's no right answer. But I think it's more on the level of, we're two very experienced people who know a lot more than most other people we meet. And also, I think when it comes down to it at the very end of the season, he thinks he can use her to get what he wants, as sad as that is. It's like a bit of a toxic relationship.

And I also think that there is something within him of, he now has a foe, which for him is really exciting. Or maybe he also thinks that she can join him further down the line, that if he has another crack at it he will be successful at it this time.

And I think it's interesting when Halbrand says, "Do you remember me?" There's a huge part of him that wants Adar to feel some recognition. And I think perhaps he does, when Adar says, "Who are you?" as Halbrand exits the barn. It's just like, come on man, even though I don't look the same, surely you must feel something.

I feel very privileged to be able to play Sauron during this era because we have seen him on screen and in a lot of adaptations without physical form. And we all know in the lore, and this is something I'm really excited for for next season, is you see him manipulating, you see him doing things in this form of a beautiful man.

So, he's in this form, but he's still a shapeshifter and will be manipulating others in a beautiful form next season. And, in Charlie's opinion at least, he does not have feelings for Galadriel, but does think she could be useful to his plans. And offering to make her his queen is a way to get her on board with said plans. (Charlie also did extensive homework on the character, so he hopefully does have a good sense of who he's meant to be playing, since it seems that we will see at least a bit more of Sauron, in his Halbrand form but openly Sauron, next season.)

#lord of the rings #rings of power #sauron #mine #my posts

[honeyfarts666]

An Ocean of Tears

A Sauron Redemption Fic

Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Animal Friends, Secret Child

Chapter 1: Prolog: A Begining Centuries in the Making  Chapter 2: Odd Companions Chapter 3: A Young Adventurer Chapter 4: The Wanderer Child 

New! Chapter 5: A Procession of Elves on Ao3 or under the cut ↓

(Also I made a mood board for Halbrand’s Garden)

Story Excerpt:

Was it so hard to believe that he had been a prisoner of Morgoth too? He had gone willingly at first, but he became just as trapped as every other soul caught in his master’s snare. He had no grand desire for evil. In the youth of the world, he had craved adventure. His only crime was believing Morgoth. And following him. And doing his dark bidding for millennia. He hung his head as shame poured through him.

Chapter Summary:

Estion ponders his encounter with Halbrand as Rivendell welcomes unexpected guests.

@helenvader @starlady66 @veladelibrr @coraleethroughthelookingglass @lazymeriadoc @shia-the-buff @ringsofpowerfans @restless-tides @rebelrebelwrites 

Estion blinked and he was back in his mother’s study. He quickly turned from side to side, but no one had entered the room in his absence. Everything was exactly as it was, save for the candles burning out. The only light came from the full moon shining through the single window. Estion gently placed the ring back on the pedestal as if it would shatter if anything touched it. He silently opened the door and slipped from the room.

He dared not linger in the hall or in any other rooms, lest he wake his mother. He had no desire to explain to her why he was up at such a late hour or what he had been doing. He crept into his bedroom and latched the door as quietly as he could. He pulled his tunic over his head and slipped into his night clothes.

The next day, Estion slept late. When his mother finally rapped on his door, his eyes fluttered open, straining against the golden beams that filled his room with mid-morning light. He heard his mother’s voice leak through the door, “Estion, are you awake?”

“Yes,” he muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

The heavy, oak door swung open and Galadriel entered. She wore a long gown of cream-colored velvet which made her glow in the late morning sun. She chuckled as she took in the sight of her sleepy son. She sat next to Estion, combing her fingers through his messy hair. “What time did you go to bed?” she asked and kissed his forehead.

“I don’t know,” Estion replied.

Galadriel rolled her eyes softly. “Trying to catch a barn owl?” She teased, “Or perhaps raccoon?”

He shrugged and glanced away, pretending to blink back the sun. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said plainly.

Galadriel ran her fingers through his hair again and hummed, “Well, you mustn’t sleep all day.” She rose and plucked a green tunic from his wardrobe, laying it out for him.

Once he was dressed, Estion and Galadriel ate breakfast together in a bright corner of their apartment. As Estion bit into his eggs, his mother asked him, “What did you want to ask me last night?”

“What?” Estion asked with a full mouth.

Galadriel replied, “You were waiting for me last night. Was there something on your mind?”

Estion shrugged. He loved his mother dearly and trusted her to the bone. But he was nervous to tread in such still waters. They had never discussed his father and, for all Estion knew, Galadriel had a good reason not to. But more than that, he was afraid talk of his father might bring her sadness and that he could not bear. “I just missed you,” he lied.

Galadriel smiled softly, “You are the most loving, wonderful boy I could have asked for.”

Estion beamed up at her as he finished his meal.

-

A month passed and Estion did not mention any part of his secret adventure to his mother or to Elrond. He would often think of the Maia and his strange but wonderful home. Halbrand was being more powerful than any he had met before. It was frightening to think about; Elrond often reminded him that there were many servants of evil in the world. And many of them wore a guise of fair beauty to fool the unsuspecting. Estion didn’t know if the Maia was a friend or foe. He had been nice enough, but he had asked questions about his home and his family. Estion also recalled the lie he had told; that he was Elrond’s son. Did Halbrand know he was lying? Was that a power the Maiar held? Estion had no idea. But, in his heart, he did not believe the Maia was his enemy. He was certainly powerful and dangerous. But he had sent him home safely with a blessing. And that did not seem like something a servant of darkness would do.

As the days passed, Estion took to playing high up on the cliffside. He had a new favorite spot, one that was far away from the house and any conversations he might overhear. He found a place where the trees cleared and he could see the whole valley sweeping down before him. Sometimes he would find animals to befriend or berries and herbs to gather. That day, he sat and absent-mindedly whittled designs into an old branch.

He had yet to ask his mother any of the questions about his father that lingered in his mind. He wasn’t afraid, per se. But it never felt like the right time. And, perhaps, there was a good reason she didn’t want to talk about his father. And speaking of the man who was absent from both their lives would surely bring her to tears.

He was roused from his thoughts when he saw movement in the valley below. It looked like there was a parade coming down the road. A long procession made its way toward Rivendell, flying bright banners that whipped in the wind.

Estion was overcome with curiosity. Visitors to Rivendell were few and far between and this procession looked to be at least a hundred strong. He hurried down the slope of the mountain to see the newcomers from close up. By the time he returned to the main courtyard, the whole settlement had assembled. Elrond and his mother stood before the procession and every other resident was fanned out behind them. At the head of the procession, a dark-haired elf sat on a gleaming white horse. His long robes were gold and he wore a crown of golden laurels upon his brow. He gracefully dismounted his horse and approached Elrond and Galadriel.

Estion watched as both Elrond and his mother bowed to the elf in gold. “My King,” Elrond announced in a loud voice for all to hear, “We welcome you to Imladris. We shall hold a great feast in your honor tonight.”

Estion gasped. The golden elf must be Gil-Galad, the high king of the Noldor. But then, Estion saw every eye in the courtyard turn on him. His gasp must have been louder than he thought. The King too turned to fix his piercing gaze upon him. Estion shivered under his demanding look.

“Estion,” Elrond called to him, waking him from his fear. “Come.”

Estion hurried past the onlookers and joined his mother, snuggling up against her for comfort. He was keenly aware that Gil-Galad’s eyes continued to watch him.

“Estion,” his mother gently urged, “bow to the king.”

Estion blushed as he glanced at Gil-Galad and then bowed.

“So,” Gil-Galad announced in a loud voice, “This is the child.”

Galadriel placed a protective hand on Estion’s shoulder. “Yes,” she replied firmly.

Gil-Galad approached further and put his hand under Estion’s chin, lifting his face for inspection. He hummed, “An unusual child indeed. But it is to be expected of mixed blood.” He paused for a moment before he continued, “I name you Haradrion. The son of the south.”

Gil-Galad backed away and Estion felt his mother’s hand tighten around his shoulder. When he looked, he saw her glaring daggers at Gil-Galad.

Elrond beckoned to his steward, “My King, we shall allow you and your company to rest after your long journey. The feast tonight shall be remembered for an age!”

The steward bowed and lead the High King into the house. Once he and his company disappeared inside, Estion saw Elrond visibly relax. Estion leaned into his mother but found her to still be rigid. She wrapped both arms around him fiercely. “How dare he,” she muttered.

“Peace, Galadriel,” Elrond warned in hushed tones.

Estion looked up at his mother as she replied, “He has no right to name Estion!”

“He is the king,” Elrond reasoned.

Galadriel huffed and turned away.

As silence fell between the adults, Estion asked, “Why is he here?”

Elrond sighed, “To reprimand me.” Estion looked to Elrond with concern. Elrond gave him a reassuring smile, “It’s nothing to worry yourself over. A slap on the wrist for my pride is all.”

Estion was not convinced by Elrond’s amendment but he smiled and nodded anyway. Elrond was called away to perform some host-ly duty. Galadriel took Estion’s hand and they walked back to their apartment.

The whole house was uncommonly active that day. The High King's company included dozens of guards and servants as well as several other distinguished elves. The guards were stationed outside, ever watchful against distant threats. The servants seemed to fill the halls of the house to the brim. There were more of them than Estion could imagine a use for. It didn’t take him long to decide he did not like them or their lingering stares. Once back in the apartment, he watched the servants hurry around from the balcony above. After an hour, they began to notice him there and stare at him again. Wishing to hide from the undue attention, he retreated inside. He couldn’t understand why they were all so interested in him.

Near evening, Galadriel called Estion into his room. On his bed, she had laid out his best tunic, the one with silver leaves embroidered along the collar and cuffs. “You need to dress quickly,” she told him, “Or we shall be late for the feast.”

Estion quirked his brow, “I am to go to the feast?”

“Yes,” Galadriel affirmed, “The High King requested your presence.” She bit her lip and Estion could see that it troubled her. But he did as she asked and dressed in his fine tunic and clasped a velvet cape around his shoulders with a silver broach.

His best close proved to be necessary for the feast was a formal affair. The fine, china plates were set on the table and the golden candlesticks were spaced through the center. Four minstrels sat in one corner playing soft melodies. Usually, Elrond would sit at the head of the table. But that night, Gil-Galad took his place. Elrond sat to his right and some noblemen Estion did not know sat to his left. Galadriel was relegated to the place beside Elrond and Estion sat beside her.

Six courses came and went over two hours. And Estion was expected to sit still and silent the whole time. He wasn’t used to such formality. He racked his brain as he attempted to remember the one lesson he had been given on proper dining etiquette. In the end, he just copied what his mother did, waiting to see which utensil she chose for each dish. The food was delicious, as it always was. In lew of the king’s surprise visit the cook had prepared several dishes normally reserved for holidays, raspberry pudding being Estion’s particular favorite. As he licked his spoon clean, Gil-Galad turned his eyes to him.

“Haradrion has been very quiet, yet he does not seem to possess table manners,” he said as he turned his gaze from Estion to Galadriel. It took Estion a moment to realize Gil-Galad had been talking about him. But as he felt his mother tense, he recalled the name the king had bestowed upon him. He froze instantly and pulled the spoon from his mouth, setting it down with a shameful blush.

Galadriel gave Gil-Galad a cold look, “He is yet a child.”

Gil-Galad gave her an amused smirk, “Tell me, Haradrion, what did you learn in your lessons today?”

Estion gulped as all the attention in the room turned to him. “I- uh,” he stuttered, “I didn’t do my lessons today.”

Gil-Galad raised a disapproving eyebrow, “Perhaps the commotion of the day was a distraction. What did you learn in your lessons yesterday?”

Estion racked his brain, trying to recall the words he had read. “Um…” he bit his lip, “I read about the forming of Numenor…”

“What else, Haradrion?” Gil-Galad demanded.

“Umm…” Estion grappled with his memories. Trying to recall anything he had learned recently. He had only read for half an hour yesterday before his mother let him be free. “I found where the holly berries grow in the woods,” he volunteered hopefully.

Estion watched as Gil-Galad’s face tightened ever so slightly. Clearly not the answer he wanted to hear. He turned to Galadriel and said, “You allow your child to stuff his face and run wild. Yet, you do not see fit to educate him in any of our customs?”

Galadriel scoffed, “Do you truly believe the traditions of our people can be reduced to table manners?”

Gil-Galad laughed. It seemed to Estion that it was a cold and hollow laugh. No one else joined in. “No, Galadriel,” Gil-Galad continued, “But if you ever hope that Haradrion might assimilate to Noldorian culture-”

“Assimilate?” Galadriel cut in. “He has been born and raised in our culture. Assimilation isn’t necessary. And his name is Estion, not Haradrion!”

Gil-Galad ran his tongue over his teeth. “Surely, you do not intend to suggest that your peredhel bastard is equal to those of pure, Noldorian blood?”

Galadriel abruptly stood, knocking her chair back with a loud scrape against the stone floor. “Surely you do not intend to preach your slander to me, nephew.”

Estion had thought the room was silent before. But then, the minstrels stopped playing and Estion heard several soft gasps from around the room. All eyes were fixed on the three of them.

“How dare you?” Gil-Galad spat, “I will not be insulted by a common whore!”

“And I will not be dictated to by a-”

At that moment, Elrond too abruptly stood and shouted, “I will not allow this speak in my hall!”

Galadriel seemed to relax slightly but Gil-Galad seemed even more enraged. Elrond turned to Gil-Galad, “Forgive me, High King. But this is still my hall and I will not allow this to continue at my table.”

Gil-Galad’s rage seemed to pass. “Then it is well that the meal is over,” he said plainly. He rose from his seat and all his retainers followed suit, leaving the hall.

Once the last of Gil-Galad’s servants had exited, Elrond slouched wearily and put his head in his hand, rubbing his temple. Galadriel pulled Estion into a tight embrace, cradling his head and burying her face in his hair. The few elves that remained, all permanent inhabitants of Rivendell, had the decency to look away and busy themselves with leaving.

Elrond leaned over to Galadriel and whispered, “I will do what I can to soothe this.”

Galadriel nodded but had no words for her friend. She took Estion’s hand as they too left the hall. They walked slowly and silently through the footpaths back to their apartment. When Galadriel latched the door behind them, she pulled Estion into another long embrace. After a moment, Estion felt something wet in his hair. “Mother?” he asked as he gently pulled away. Tears streamed down Galadriel’s face. He had never seen her cry before and it sent a horrible chill through him.

“I’m so sorry you had to hear that,” she whispered, stroking his face.

Estion shrugged, “I’m okay.”

Galadriel led him over to a bench and said, “Do you remember when you overheard Elrond and me talking on the terrace?”

Estion gasped softly, looking up at her in amazement. He hadn’t realized she knew.

Galadriel smirked and said, “Yes, Elrond told me all about it.”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!” Estion declared.

“I know, my love,” Galadriel said. “I was waiting for you to ask me those questions yourself. But you never did.”

Estion looked down at the floor, “I didn’t want to make you sad.”

She lifted his chin so she could look into his eyes. “Thinking of your father does make me sad. But that doesn’t mean we should never speak of him. I was wrong to keep his memory from you. I am sorry.”

Estion threw his arms around his mother. “I love you!” he said as he squeezed her with all his might.

“I love you more than light,” she declared.

After a moment, Estion asked, “So, is my father dead?”

Galadriel shook her head slowly, “No, my heart tells me he still lives.”

Estion wrinkled his brow in confusion, “What happened to him?”

“He…” Galadriel trailed off. “He went away.”

“For how long?” Estion asked with hope lining his words.

Galadriel shook her head, “He is not coming back.”

Estion’s face fell along with his spirit, “Why?”

Galadriel took a deep breath and said, “We had a disagreement. A profound disagreement that could not be reconciled. And so, he left.”

Estion could not help the tears that brewed in his eyes. With all his strength, he held them back and asked, “Didn’t he care about us?”

Heartbreak was written all over Galadriel’s face as she confessed, “He didn’t know about you. I didn’t either. By the time I realized you were growing within me, he was already long gone and I could not find him.”

Estion shuddered as his tears finally fell. He let out a sob and rested his head against his mother’s shoulder. Galadriel held him and she too wept for the great hole in their family.

After a long moment, Estion quietly asked, “What is his name?”

Galadriel swallowed hard and replied, “Halbrand.”

Estion was stunned. He bit his lip, thankful that Galadriel could not see his face. He was unsure of what to do or even what to think. Could the man in the Greenwood be his father? But his father was a human and the man in the Greenwood was a Maia. Perhaps his mother was mistaken. Or perhaps there was more than one being in Arda called Halbrand. Either way, he dared not say anything. It was an unusual name, though. He nuzzled against his mother again and the two stayed in each other’s embrace for a long while.

Notes:

This might be a good time to make a note about the name meanings.

Estion: "Esta-" means "to be called" and "-ion" means "son" - Tolkien elves usually get two names. Their first name is given by their father and their second name by their mother. My idea behind this was that Gal was getting lots of shit for being an 'unwed,' single mother and her naming him Estion (as his first name) was her way of telling the world "Fuck you, I do what I want. This is MY SON and the identity of his father is irrelevant!"

Haradrion: "Haradre-" means "southern or south" - So this is just Gil-Galad being a little shit and pointing out that Estion isn't 'one of them.' (small spoiler: Gil-Galade is going to give Estion another name when he discovers who Halbrand really is!!)

No shade at the Gil-Gadaddy girlies! But he is going to be a major dick throughout the rest of this fic.

As always, thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you like/what you are excited about! I love hearing from all of you!!

#rop fic #trop fic #rop fanfiction #sauron fic #original child character #angst #rop sauron #saurondriel #saurgal #galadriel x sauron #secret child #redemption au #an ocean of tears #rop #trop #sauron #sad sauron #myfic #fanfiction

[mimilind]

4. Control

Summary: What could have been, if Galadriel chose differently on the raft with Halbrand.

Part 4 of Perfect Balance of Darkness and Light.

🤍🖤 🤍🖤 🤍🖤 🤍🖤  

Pairing: Galadriel x Halbrand

Rating: M

Chapter Word Count: 2400

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

🤍🖤 🤍🖤 🤍🖤 🤍🖤    

Galadriel just accepted his offer. Halbrand intends to take things slowly in the relationship and not scare her, but she decides to show him just how experienced she is.

M-rated for spiciness. ;) Other tags/warnings: implied past Sauron/Melkor

4. Control

She had said yes! He could hardly believe it was true. She was so pure, so obsessed with fighting evil – yet she had agreed to rule with him. To balance his darkness with her light.

He imagined what they could achieve together as king and queen and was filled with a thrill of excitement. With an elvish captain as wife, no realm would be closed – and even if someone tried to oppose him, Galadriel’s and his joint power would be impossible to resist. Especially when they had finished making the rings.

As he took her hand, meeting the gaze in those impossibly blue eyes, another kind of excitement began to build up within. Her long, blonde curls spilled down her back and her cheeks glowed pink, enhancing her natural beauty. She wore a jade green dress with gold seams and it clung to her shapely curves.

He knew how elves wed – that physical intimacy was all it took to create a bond – and now he began to look forward to that part of their relationship as well. 

Drawing her close, he murmured. “You are so beautiful. I need you.”

“And I you.” Her voice was breathless as she turned her face up invitingly.

He restrained a sudden burst of desire pouring into his body, making him want to throw her to the ground and take her with furious abandon right there on the path. Not for the first time he reflected over how much the body he occupied was controlled by animal instincts and urges, and how hard it was to curb those needs.

Instead of yielding, he kissed her gently, careful not to scare her.

Her lips were deliciously soft as she responded and she turned out to be a surprisingly good kisser. Currents of lust spread through him as his human senses were overwhelmed by her intoxicating scent and taste. 

Far too soon she broke the kiss; someone was talking nearby and she probably feared exposure. Elves were amusingly proper about such things.

“Worried over your reputation?” he teased.

“No.”

“Good. Don’t be.” Sitting on a bench by the river, he placed her on his lap. “I want everyone to know you are mine.” Then he claimed her lips again, and much as he tried he couldn’t quite hold back his need this time.

Blood rushed downwards and his pants quickly became too tight for comfort. He hoped Galadriel wouldn’t notice. Perhaps she didn’t know what the hardness was?

This must all be so new and strange to her, but damn, it was not easy to take it slowly! He wished he could rip her clothes in shreds and expose her body; those perfect breasts he had seen glimpses of through her wet dress on the raft and the more mysterious part between her long legs. He wanted to see whether elf maids really were as smooth and unblemished as they said.

Though it probably was too soon, he trailed his fingers upwards until he reached a breast. As he had imagined, it fit his hand perfectly when he cupped it. He brushed over the nipple with his thumb.

At his intimate touch, Galadriel drew in her breath in a light gasp, and he regretted his haste. Was he an adolescent boy or an ancient Maia? This lack of control was beneath him.

~

Galadriel sat astride Halbrand’s legs, his fingers exploring her curves over the silk of her dress as he kissed her with unrestrained fervor. She was taken over by emotions she had not expected to feel again.

Passion. Desire. Need.

When she thought he was a mortal man she had regarded him as a friend, but knowing who he really was somehow changed her view of him completely. He was a Maia, older than time itself, immensely powerful – and she wanted him. 

She had believed that part of her had died with her husband, that she could never feel like this for anyone again. Yet here she was, heart beating fast, her body on fire, wishing Halbrand would rip her clothes off and take her without delay. 

It was as if the centuries of celibacy had created an immense reservoir of dammed up lust that could be unlocked by another key like Adar’s – piercing deep.

He stroked her nipple and she gasped expectantly. That made him stop, swiftly pulling back – as if he was afraid to hurt her.

It struck her he couldn’t know she was a widow, she had never mentioned it. He must think she was untouched.

The thought amused her. If only he knew… 

Well, time to show Halbrand a new side of herself. Grinning impishly, she jumped down from his lap and took his hand, pulling him with her. “Come, I want to show you my lodgings.”

A bit smugly she noticed his cheeks were unusually flushed and that he sounded rather out of breath as he replied: “If you wish.”

When they neared the buildings, she dropped his hand; in time she would tell others about their relationship but it was best to wait until there was no turning back. She knew Elrond would try to talk her out of it, and the king probably would as well. 

But this was her decision to make. She had agreed to be Halbrand’s queen – Sauron’s queen – and she would not back out. Together they could heal Middle-earth, he had said so and she believed him. Darkness and light in perfect harmony. 

She closed the door behind them a bit hurriedly when they arrived, losing no time to wrap her arms around him and resume the broken kiss. 

He was still holding back but she had no patience for that; she wanted his unrestrained passion. An untamed force. Somehow she must lure the tiger out of his den.

It was probably best to be blunt, her usual approach. 

“Halbrand. There is no need to be careful with me; I am not as innocent as you think.”

“No?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I was married before the war. He never returned.”

His eyes became a bit wary. “I am sorry.”

She couldn’t tell whether he apologized for his part in that war or if it was more of a general condoleance, but it didn’t matter. The past was in the past. This was now – a new beginning.

“It was a long time ago.” Then she repeated: “There is no need to be careful. Your ardor does not frighten me.”

His grip on her waist tightened. “Are you certain?” His eyes didn’t look wary anymore; if anything, she would say they had a dangerous gleam.

She felt an excited thrill. “I am.”

No more had the words left her mouth before Halbrand had pushed her back against the wall, his lips suddenly voracious as he kissed her in a completely different way. The hesitation and restraint was gone and his strong arms and tall frame trapped her, making it impossible to do anything but yield.

The Valar help her, she both loved and hated it. 

“Was he good?” he rasped in her ear, biting her earlobe lightly. 

“Are you jealous?” She let her fingers range across his wide shoulders. His muscles rippled under them.

“Yes.” He pressed his hardness against her. “I want you to be mine. Only mine.”

She was a bit surprised that he would admit it so freely, but she supposed that was how he was. He had never lied to her, never openly deceived her.

“He was. Good, I mean,” she murmured, challenging him.

Halbrand made a deep sound in his throat, something between a growl and a groan. “Damn it, elf!” He had been trying to unfasten the tiny buttons on the back of her dress, now he simply ripped it open in a spray of pearls and slid it down her waist. Bending down to reach, he explored her exposed breast with greedy lips.

“And you,” she managed, her voice nearly drowning in the roar of her rapid pulse. “Were you married?”

“Not formally.” He was attacking her other breast now. “Let us say… my master and I were very close.” His eyes briefly flicked to hers. “At first,” he added.

“So then we both lost our–”

His head whipped back up and he silenced her with a new kiss, an almost angry one. Yet when he finally released her from it she was breathless and more aroused than she had ever been. 

“No more talk of the past.” He added: “No more talk, period. Let us get to it.” His gaze was hard, daring her to show defiance. 

“Fine.” Ignoring her racing heart she softly put her hands on top of his. “But as much as I enjoy this, a bed would be more comfortable.”

That broke the intense moment. He smirked amusedly, eyes crinkling. “An excellent suggestion.” He bowed and offered his arm.

Gathering her ruined dress over her bosom, Galadriel took it, a bit bewildered. It was sometimes hard to keep up with Halbrand’s swift mood changes.

In the bedroom, he sat on the edge of her bed and calmly unlaced his boots as if he was doing his normal bedtime routine. The only odd detail about the scene was the prominent bulge in his pants.

He patted the blanket beside him. “Sit.”

She obeyed, following his example and removing her shoes. “I am not a dog.” 

He smirked again. “I hope so.” Gently pushing her back, he lay next to her, turning his head to meet her eyes. He stroked her cheek, looking serious now. “If you tell me to stop, I will.”

“I know.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“I know,” she said again. But did she really believe it? Perhaps he thought he could always control himself but Galadriel suspected that if driven too far, he would not succeed. Could he be violent, even to her?

In truth, she was not sure.

He gave her a light, sweet kiss. “I think I am in love with you, Galadriel.”

She didn’t know what to reply to that. It was too soon. To sudden.

Her silence didn’t seem to bother him. His smirk returned and he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed almost playfully. “Well. Time to get to it, yes?”

Looking up at his boyish smile and twinkling eyes, a mane of hair framing his handsome, scruffy features, Galadriel suddenly couldn’t hold back a bubble of laughter. “Yes, let us.”

His grin widened and he pulled his tunic and shirt off in one smooth motion, finally allowing her to set eyes on his ripped torso. Then he did the same with her dress, easing it down all the way this time.

“Your pants,” she urged.

He took them off, exposing his nakedness almost proudly. “Not too bad, eh?”

“So conceited,” she said with mock disapproval. “But I can see why.” She trailed a hand across his chest, a novel experience for her to feel a man’s body hair, and let her lips follow. The heady scent and taste of him filled her senses. “Not too bad, indeed,” she murmured against his heated skin.

Then she fell silent, for Halbrand began to do something with his lips and tongue as well, and that made her mind temporarily shut off. “Ahh…” she breathed, feeling her body go limp. 

It was obvious he had taken her words about her first husband as a challenge to excel, for with talented tongue and fingers he kindled sensations she would have not thought possible. Soon her entire being was on fire, limbs trembling with feverish yearning and her core aching with a need so strong it threatened to make her burst unless she was allowed an outlet.

“Halbrand,” she cried, unable to keep her voice down, and then added a strong mental command. Move away. 

He seemed a bit confused but obeyed without ado, and she nudged him to flip on his back. Quickly scrambling on top, she positioned herself. She met his eyes that had become so dark, so full of admiration and longing, and slowly lowered herself onto him, feeling their bond form. 

He was perfect.

“Finally,” he grunted, closing his eyes as she began to move over him.

“Finally,” she agreed, increasing the pace. 

She reflected that once more the roles were reversed. Once more she was in control, balancing his desire for dominance with her own, equally strong. 

In truth, she was not sure she could control her power either if driven too far, for she too could be violent. Though he was physically stronger, she now knew she had the stronger willpower, and by his baffled, fascinated look he had not expected that.

“My queen,” he mumbled.

“My king…” Pleasure was building fast within her and she chased her release, focus turning inward and mind going blank.

She was not prepared when Halbrand suddenly grasped her thighs and locked her in position.

“Let me go!” She tried to move, desperate to get more friction, but he was too strong. Physically, at least.

“It is my turn.” His eyes glittered and his face was flushed, making him look impossibly attractive. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled them over.

With him in control, the pace became faster, harder, more errant, and it was not easy to keep up. Again Galadriel found herself yielding to him, but now it was almost liberating. With his movements he managed to hit all her sweet spots at the same time and she could only lie there and take it; take the gift he was giving to her – and to himself at the same time.

She had reached a plateau, but in the new position her lust grew fast, soon exceeding everything she had previously felt. His deep thrusts unlocked her inner dam, piece by piece, until she let go completely, capitulating to her instincts and to him. 

Borne on wave after wave of unchained passion, her core erupted in spasms of pure bliss. 

Freezing on top of her, Halbrand's breath quickened as her release brought on his, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. 

His eyes grew large and puzzled. “I had no idea it could feel like this,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “No wonder humans do it so much.”

Galadriel laughed, a wild, purely happy laughter, rare as it was. Wiping her eyes, she kissed him sweetly. Oh, Halbrand. I think I love you too.

He smirked. “Creepy. You have to teach me that mind talk.” And then he was laughing as well, hugging her close. “We are going to have so much fun, Galadriel.”

“We will,” she agreed sleepily.

Not long afterwards they dozed off in each other’s arms, husband and wife. All they needed now was a couple of rings…

🤍🖤 🤍🖤 🤍🖤 🤍🖤      

A/N:

So, IRL it’s probably best to run fast from a boyfriend who is violent, jealous, emotionally unstable and sometimes has poor self-control (plus is a Dark Lord who plans to conquer the world), unless one has strong mind control or other powers. But luckily Galadriel has, and lucky us, this is fiction not real life. :D

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