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#anborn
frodo-with-glasses · 2 years
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March 7, TA 3019.
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lothrandir · 1 year
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FARAMIR I'M COMING FOR YOU 🥺😍😍👀✨🥰💛😳🧡🥹🌿🥵💕😩😇😔✌️🤪💚
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lordsxfgondor · 3 months
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You ever have the middle of the story and you want to know what happened? Yeah that's sort of what this is but different. This is Faramir, Damrod, and Anborn meeting Rhadrog and Laeglaw.
Aka the wise one drags the somewhat childish one to meet the shy one and the healer then the feral one shows up because throwing hands must be done with him around or it's just not right. (Anborn is feral, I don't make the rules I just tell it as I see it and let's be real you have to be somewhat feral to survive there.)
-
Damrod gleefully dragged his friend to the tavern he’d discovered a little under a month before while Faramir had been busy with some sort of family dinner. Anborn had waved them off since he still had one last test so he could be positioned with them, and was going to join them later. When they entered there was a group of city guards in one corner, an off duty tower guard at the bar, and a few regulars. Faramir slipped off to find a table while Damrod got their drinks.
At last he sat across from the Steward’s son and slid his tankard across the table. Faramir snatched it up with a wry smile and clanked it against Damrod’s own in a silent mutual agreement that they were glad to finally be done with that dreadful school. Some of the guards caught Faramir’s attention and Damrod internally groaned seeing it. Still he followed his friend’s gaze to see a cluster of them around a boy, well a man but not one much older than he and Faramir were, who looked foriegn to him. Faramir sent him a look, silently asking his opinion on the situation. Damrod studied them for a moment then shrugged, giving Faramir an innocent look. Faramir raised an eyebrow then drained his tankard.
“Far-”
“He needs help, whether he thinks so or not.”
Damrod groaned and stood, exasperated, then followed him over.
“What’s the matter, boy, only able to speak your mother tongue?”
The group laughed at the question, and one of them pulled his fist back to punch the young man. As Damrod expected Faramir caught the guy’s wrist.
“What the-”
“Boy, you should get back to your drink.”
“The young man is a soldier of Gondor as well, is he not?”
“It doesn’t matter! The whelp must be a spy, not even in our southernmost lands are people so dark.”
The group agreed and Faramir slipped between them and stood in front of the young man, who Damrod now noticed was wearing an old and worn version of the city guard uniform. Sickened that these men would turn on one of their own he moved to join Faramir as well. Idly he wondered if maybe they should have left their hooded cloaks back in their room for the night but Faramir insisted on bringing them as he seldom did without good cause. As one of the guards reeled back a fist then sent it flying towards Faramir’s face he lamented following his lead but watching Faramir duck under it, dragging the other man down then moving forward to drive an elbow into the guard’s gut was a thing of beauty. After that he lost track of what Faramir was doing as long as he and his friend didn’t get in each other’s way.
A familiar battle cry followed by three of the group landing in a heap told Damrod that Anborn had finally managed to join them and would be upset he missed the start of the fight. Grinning somewhat ferally Damrod helped finish taking down the few remaining guards then turned to see the young man on the ground, using Faramir’s lap as a pillow. Muffled snickering on his right told him Anborn was next to him and they were going to tease Faramir about this later. A young man with tousled black hair walked in looking furious until he saw all the guards sprawled on the ground, except the Tower Guard who was watching the four of them amused now- Damrod just knew that Faramir’s brother was going to hear about this and they would be teased about it for months- then he walked to Faramir and the young man on the ground.
“Rhadrog… Some day you are going to need to stand up for yourself.”
“He will… just not yet.”
“Who in the name of the Valar are you?”
“Just a recent graduate from the academy.”
“Well it seems like you just got very unlucky.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Aside from the tears in your clothes? Those were some of the most respected City Guard.”
“I see. So this is Rhadrog, and you are?”
“Laeglaw. We graduated at the same time, but no one wants to take us. They think he influenced me to be evil and is a spy himself.”
Faramir hummed and the Tower Guard walked over then. Crouching down next to Faramir he grinned.
“I take it you want these two with you and those rapscallions?”
“If we can talk Him into it. I’m not sure he’d be happy about us laying out so many of the Guard.”
“Aye… well if he asks I can testify to them deserving it. They shame themselves by refusing such talent.”
“Would you let him know I want to speak with him about it?”
“I will, but since you got in a fight…”
“I know.” Faramir stood and dragged Rhadrog up with him so the man wasn’t on the floor any longer. “Lead the way, and if you have the time and means to, some medical supplies would be nice. Also-”
“A needle and thread?”
“Just so.” 
The Guard laughed softly then led the five of them to a cell. Faramir laid Rhadrog on the cot then sat next to it, stripping off his torn tunic then tossing it to Damrod who did a quick check.
“This isn’t too bad. It will be fixed up in a few minutes once I get some thread. I think our new friend ended up the worst off.”
“He wasn’t fighting.” Anborn commented, annoyed.
Faramir nodded but didn’t seem surprised. Anborn gave him a look silently demanding an explanation. Damrod ignored that he was supposed to be older and sprawled, draping himself partly in Faramir’s lap.
“Fara, talk to me.”
Faramir smiled and ruffled his hair lightly. “He’ll be helpful in the future, but doesn’t think he deserves help now.”
“Well we will just have to change that.” Anborn replied promptly.
Faramir’s smile was brilliant and Laeglaw was making small choking noises.
“You- he- then.”
“Yes, I am Faramir, and these are Anborn and Damrod. If you would be kind enough to tend to our injuries as well I am sure Damrod would be willing to mend anything you and Rhadrog are wearing that need mending.”
The Guard appeared then and leaned against the bars. “I have some medical supplies and this,” he held up a small sewing kit which Damrod lunged for, “your brother will collect you lot in the morning. Those two might be being shipped out with you.”
Damrod waved and was already working to thread the needle so he could sew the clothes up. Faramir chuckled and settled in the corner where he could see everyone, Anborn across the cell from him where he could see outside the cell, and Laeglaw gave up on making sense of the situation in favor of patching up his injured friend.
“Do you know where you’re headed?"
“Probably Ithilien."
All work stopped as the three conscious men turned to the unconcerned son of the Steward. It was known that Ithilien was dangerous and only accepted the best, but none of them felt that they quite ranked up well enough for that assignment. Deciding not to worry much about it they focused on their self-assigned tasks. Damrod glanced at Faramir to find him bundled up in his cloak and dozing, Anborn watching outside the cell as well as inside it while their mutually agreed upon leader slept. 
A quick sign later and Anborn tossed his torn clothing to Damrod while taking Faramir’s tunic and setting it near him to grab when he got up. Laeglaw managed to get Rhadrog’s damaged clothes off him and set them in a small pile near Damrod who mended them first so the injured man could stay warm. It was late when he finished and as Damrod looked up he noticed that Faramir was sitting where Anborn had been and Anborn was leaning against Laeglaw in the corner.
“Sleep, Damrod. We won’t leave you here.” Faramir murmured lowly, knowing that it was something that Damrod worried about and Damrod got up with a small groan then climbed on the cot next to Rhadrog who looked a bit better. With a small gesture to Faramir he was asleep as well.
The sound of the door opening woke him and he felt Rhadrog tense beside him.
“Really, little one?”
“Are you upset with me for finding another stray I want to keep?”
“Perhaps not but there are better ways.”
“You taught me that people who are being hurt by those they should trust need to be defended.”
Laughter and Damrod knew without looking that Boromir and Faramir were hugging tightly. He smiled and cracked his eyes open a little to see the absolutely shocked expression on Rhadrog’s face as he finally realized who exactly had rescued him.
“Very well, I will put these two with you as well. Just do me the favor of trying to keep them in line. Apparently some of the guards are afraid of that one.” Boromir pointed towards Anborn who grinned at him. Boromir nodded and stepped away so they could get up and leave. “Oh, and little brother?”
“Yes?”
“I am proud of you.”
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pazithigallifreya · 10 months
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I can't write romance exceptionally well and can't write smut at all, but just know that in that worm fic, there's definitely some kinda Ithilien Ranger Polycule going on. Faramir is aware of it but doesn't really care. Eowyn finds it Confusing but also doesn't really care.
Idhrien definitely drags Gríma into the bushes eventually. They think they're subtle. They aren't. Eowyn is entirely too quiet and eventually gets an eyeful, and complains bitterly to Faramir about it for days. Whoops.
As a kid, Eldarion (Aragorn & Arwen's kid) calls Gríma "Wormy" and yes Eowyn taught him this. She thinks it's hilarious. Elboron (Eowyn & Faramir's kid), after he's born and is old enough to speak, calls him "Uncle Wormy" which is only a minor improvement.
Gríma is still grouchy, even when he's getting laid on the regular, and Eowyn loses a long-running bet she had with Anborn on this fact. She really just can't win (unless she's convincing toddlers that Gríma's name is Wormy).
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For: Aragorn & Anborn :: @lordsxfgondor Specified Muse: Hal Verse: Lighting up a Darkened World
FEAR An unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm.
   The one emotion that everyone could feel, be they Mortal or non-Mortal. Some fears didn't always make sense. Like having a fear of books or a fear of the outside. Other fears were far more tangible and race orientated; The Hobbits had a fear of water, so swimming was usually only left for the more adventurous ones.
  Yet for the Free People, no matter what Race they were, the one fear that they all shared was of the Darkness caused by Sauron. Elves, Men and Dwarves had all seen the destruction that the former Maia of Aulë could cause when he wanted to. With both Eregion and Numenor being two prime examples.
  Many had lost their lives to bringing down the reigning Dark Lord during the Last Alliance of Men and Elves. But their sacrifices, along with those of Elendil the Tall and Erenion Gil-galad, had brought a long but temporary peace to Middle Earth.
  A peace that was gradually breaking up after Rangers from both Gondor and former Anor began to seemingly vanish into thin air. A cause for alarm? For the Dunedain, yes it was. But for others outside of the Men, it didn't seem to be a major issue. At first.
  Given the darkening times, a hidden meeting had been set up to try and figure out what was happening. Faramir and Anborn for the Rangers of Ithilien; Aragorn and Hal for those of the North.
   Dark grey eyes flickered around the room, remaining in the corner with part of her attention on the doorway. Despite the knowledge that she could apparently trust all those in the room, it hadn't settled her instincts at all. In fact, Hal had refused to go any closer to Faramir. Something that had gotten her a raised eyebrow from the other two Rangers present.
  Not being much of a speaker, the lone gender-fluid Commander just listened for a few minutes. Talking was more her leader's area anyway, not hers in the slightest. Something didn't feel right though and it caused Hal to speak up.
"Exactly, how safe is this place?"
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poetry-draws · 1 year
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Friendo your art is amazing!! I have nothing to request besides that you have a wonderful day and continue to enjoy drawing our beloved NPCs! makes me so happy to see them getting the love they deserve from such a talented artist ^-^ 💖 ✨
(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Thank you SO MUCH!!!! Request granted, signed, endorsed. There are actually a lot of nice, happy, fluffy projects in the pipeline so stay tuned.
nobody usually asks for anything angsty, i just do that for fun
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hopeless-eccentric · 1 year
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as someone who’s been essentially chugging the lotr books lately, here’s a master list of things from the books that should have been in the movies
-bilbo’s mean comments to everyone he hated in his “will”
-tom bombadil making a bunch of ghosts fuck off with the power of yellow galoshes, singing a merry tune, and god probably
-elrond having the approximate energy of a guy with an uncomfortably big model train
-Shadowfax being kinda a bitch (it’s okay because he’s the best horse he gets a pass)
-faramir and eowyn’s courtship scene, but more importantly them publicly frenching the moment they get engaged
-anborn, the guy who sees a three foot tall hobbit shaped hissing humanoid gremlin with 0 fur on it in the woods, decides it’s gotta be one of them mirkwood squirrels, and reports it back to faramir as such
-faramir ruthlessly making fun of anborn for this assessment
-the awful family dinner with denethor, faramir, gandalf, and pippin where a) they forget a chair for pippin so he has to stand the entire time b) faramir gets so mad that he stands up, immediately nearly passes out, and then politely asks if he can go to bed now please c) denethor and gandalf exchange some eye magic that pippin describes eerily similarly to laser guns
-the shire does guerrilla warfare
-beregond
-the bit in the window on the west chapter where everybody just says a DEEPLY catholic Grace for a little while and then moves on as if nothing happened
-the bit in fellowship where bilbo does a song and is like yeah ive still gotta run it past my lyrics guy though. he’s also the rightful king of Gondor
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southfarthing · 10 months
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anghraine · 1 year
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I know I talk pretty regularly about Faramir's weird command over animals, both because he's my fave and it's cool, and because it's just such a strange detail. But I've also been thinking for awhile about some less direct but still intriguing quotes about how he relates to animals.
So, the usual ones first. Here's Beregond, describing Faramir getting his horse to run towards five Nazgûl while the other horses are fleeing:
‘They will make the Gate. No! the horses are running mad. Look! the men are thrown; they are running on foot. No, one is still up, but he rides back to the others. That will be the Captain [Faramir]: he can master both beasts and men.’
Then there are nameless soldiers in Minas Tirith, watching the orderly part of the retreat across the Pelennor:
The watchers held their breath. 'Faramir must be there,’ they said. 'He can govern man and beast.’
(For context, the ancient Númenóreans he takes after could summon particularly beloved horses by thought alone.)
But also, back in TTT, we heard some interesting details that may be pertinent. Firstly, there's Faramir himself, speaking to Sam:
'Were I as hasty as you, I might have slain you long ago. For I am commanded to slay all whom I find in this land without the leave of the Lord of Gondor. But I do not slay man or beast needlessly, and not gladly even when it is needed.'
And when Anborn reports glimpsing the creature that turns out to be Gollum, he says to Faramir,
'You will not have us slay wild beasts for no purpose, and it seemed no more, so I tried no arrow.'
I think the suggestion here is that it's not standard policy for them to avoid killing wild animals, but a command from Faramir specifically. And he's clear here that he doesn't kill animals for any purpose other than necessity.
And I mean ... if I could get nervous animals to run straight towards Ringwraiths, I'd probably feel weird about killing them, too. But it all does fit together very neatly.
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absynthe--minded · 2 years
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The Night Our Ship Will Drown
T.A. 3019, the Dawnless Day, the Ethir Anduin between Pelargir and the Sea
“Bring her about!” 
He could barely be heard over the roar of the storm, the rain pouring down in thick, impenetrable sheets as the lightning and thunder crash overhead. Somewhere, above the thick clouds and the screaming of the wind, he guessed at the presence of the Sun, and wondered what it was she saw from her high and lofty place among the stars; in her place, he only had a lantern, suspended from the masts by finely made chain and hanging high above the deck. The air had turned cold, too cold even for early spring, cold enough to steal the life from unwary fingers; he could see his breath in great gasps of steam as he tried and failed to shout orders into the gloom. Rain was expected, especially in the dawning of the year as the sea warmed and the winds shifted with it, but this was unnatural, and he could taste the tang of magic in the frigid breeze. 
The deck was slick and grimy beneath his boots, and he nearly lost his footing as they caught a wave that sent the whole ship soaring upward and then down into a deep valley; his hands closed over a length of rope someone had fixed the posts of this door. It stretched toward the stern and the helm, though he could not see anyone save himself in the gloom, and he wondered if he was alone in the downpour. Above, the lantern dipped, and swayed, almost seeming to flicker in the dark - impossible, it ought to be impossible, and yet the light falters - and as it sputtered his heart skipped one beat, two, three, then too many to count. He could hear the song now, curling about each drop of rain, seeping into his skin and matching the beat of his pulse. Six voices singing in tandem, complicated melodies interweaving and harmonizing. The rain was summoned, and by their enemy, whose black-sailed ships lay somewhere in the water beyond.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness at last, too used to the soft candlelight in his quarters to give its memory up easily, and he could see that he was surrounded by men on all sides, fighting with sheets and sails and the heavy catapults that lined the decks and marked this as a warship and not merely a merchant vessel. He risked a glance at the helm and saw it held fast, and knew he was not heard. He tried again, his fingers digging into the soaking, slippery rope as he clawed his way along its length toward the stairs he must somehow climb. 
“Anborn!” 
This time the man at the helm flinched and looked down, somehow spotting him in the soaking-wet gloom; when he answered, his voice was a welcome anchor.
“Prince Amrothos!”
“What - what devilry is this?” he asked, reaching the steps and clinging to them like a half-drowned rat. The helm itself was somehow drier, shielded perhaps by the shipwrights’ own songs, and he managed again to stand, taking his place beside the older man. 
“Storm-song,” Anborn answered, grimacing out into the darkness. “The bastards are trying to drown us before a proper fight.” 
“And our own Chorus?” 
“Below, and already singing, your highness, but they’ll have a fight on their hands, surely.”
“Why?” he asked, nearly slipping again as another wave slammed head-on into the bow.
Anborn sighed, as if to ask don’t you know anything at all? before answering. “Their song’s meant to catch ours, can’t you hear it? Just as ours is for them. We’ve been doing this too long for it to be any other way. And we’ll still have to fight them ship-to-ship.”
He swallowed hard. They had known, upon sailing south from Belfalas, that this would be a miserable fight. It was a proper war-fleet coming up from Umbar, replenished after years of long effort, and they’d had only days of real warning. His father had already departed north for the Capital with his own knights, leaving his oldest brother to rule and his next-oldest to command their armies; it had been they he pleaded with for leave to go and aid Lebennin and Lamedon. They sent him, and the fleet behind him; if Dol Amroth would not be assailed, there was no use barricading the harbor with every ship they could summon. And now, it seemed, he was too late, trapped in the dawnless dark with the enemy between him and the Anduin. 
Suddenly, lightning cracked above him, splitting the sky with blinding white as the thunder rolled in after. For an instant, he could see the whole of the Ethir Anduin, filled with black-sailed masts that rose and fell with the waves - 
- and he could see the nearest ship, broadside to him, so close he could have thrown the knife at his belt across the gap between them. The rain fell more lightly there, though he doubted the air was any warmer. On the deck were a dozen sailors, swords in their hands and open-mouthed as they sang. 
“Bring us about,” he said again, and this time Anborn heard him.
“Aye, Captain!” the man answered, and when he loosed his grip on the helm the whole ship groaned but held together, aided no doubt by the Chorus below decks calling on the spells laid into the wood as it was cut. One elf might have done what all six of them did in harmony, and yet the elves were never so crafty nor cunning as the Dúnedain on both sides of the battle who now called on the Music that lay in the water.
We’re children, he thought, daring to look over his own shoulder at his white-sailed fleet, children fighting over the scraps left by our drowned mother.
And yet I cannot let them win.
“Give them a volley!” he cried, forcing his voice to last past the steps. “We’re nearly broadside to them, don’t let them be the ones to catch us when we have the advantage!” 
He couldn’t hear any one answer, but the men below called back their agreement; by the time Anborn had brought them to bear, the catapults were launching. Their loads - heavy wooden balls, filled with blasting-powder and set to catch and spark to flame when met with any friction - arced through the air, tearing through the sails of the ship and bursting into red fire that cast the whole river into eerie half-darkness. Instantly, the song on the wind turned discordant and shrill, keening in his ears; he sank to his knees, his hands trying and failing to stop the sound. 
“Don’t fall for it!” Anborn shouted, kicking his shin sharply and not bothering to apologize. “They’re after the lantern! They can see in the damn dark, it’s their storm in the first place!” 
Sure enough, the light above was dimmer than ever, and he wondered if the other ships were positioned just as perilously on the brink of utter disaster. But he was a Prince of Dol Amroth, and song and seawater were in his soul; he knew how to answer this. 
He bit down hard on his tongue until his mouth filled with blood, the salt and heat distracting him from the half-sung screaming on the air. When he found his voice, it was solid, and strong, cutting easily through the rain, lashing out at the other ship like the fire-coiled whip of a Balrog. It was joined by Anborn, and then by another, finding the eight-note motif of the lantern and echoing it again and again until the light shone like a star and the storm was weakened. He could see better now, watching the ships as they sought to shield their injured sister so easily torn asunder by the weapons of Belfalas; their flagship loomed large in the distance, and he could see a lone figure in the rigging, staring out at him. 
He knew her, instantly. Inzaphôr. Her father Zimrûn’s eldest daughter, the heir of Umbar, and the most feared of all his captains. This was her war-fleet, and her mission of destruction.
It would be a long and dreadful night.
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444names · 2 years
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tolkienesque forenames + scottish surnames + the entire article on evan (name) on wikipedia
(but excluding "mac")
Acaoire Acast Acceal Accròin Acter Acthough Action Adailip Adalonch Adarague Adelanon Adminyë Adraidh Aeglindur Aerond Aikanáriel Ailler Aiwenducer Alaidh Alcar Aldarahir Aldaros Aldorl Almigh Ambaig Amraphin Anborner Ancal Ancalaig Ancalmain Ancer Ancien Andil Andily Andor Anfauglúk Arach Aradaness Araglor Araharna Arahirg Araidh Araidhelic Aranda Aration Argha Arghais Arion Artair Artialas Arved Arwaen Assadoc Assiosach Assiosain Atach Ausingol Austred Azaghnach Balia Barnaich Barsan Bassign Battish Battârik Baylist Belechruim Belegorl Belic Berneth Berson Bhodh Bhodha Blach Bochairl's Boldwinn Bornett Bothanach Breach Brity Broch Brucag Brusach Bràildor Bràilliams Buidearach Buidh Busing Butter Cadwalle Caidh Calimë Calios Camharraid Canardil Canndróg Canograch Caolagain Casgainnis Cathain Ceach Ceally Ceamhatar Celector Celeghlais Celego Celegor Celemhoire Celendil Celenwë Cemelenwë Chaich Chaidh Chain Chainn Chaldor Chearghain Clerg Coinnich Comhan Commong Conomist Contal Creasbain Cuille Cuineseam Cuinnein Càidhe Càididh Còmhnalian Davia Deach Declian Decliutha Derion Deòideach Deòire Deórwinen Dived Drauglist Druis Dubhain Dubhthak Dunaich Dunain Dunhamûl Déagorn Dùbhain Dùghaidh Dùghlain Eabaig Eduiladoc Eldad Elebhe Elemmaking Elenaoid Elendir Elfhaolìos Elfwinel Elmon Elveginn Elwine Emeld Eneur Engel Enger Engly Entar Ereth Erkenbraig Erkenbras Esteinnein Evagorm Evagostyn Evanslath Eversion Eärench Eóghain Farach Featha Fenge Filmë Finatië Finded Finrodda Foirice Folchaldad Footbally Formen Forsàidein Fortial Forts Fourchain Franndrais Frendur Frisnidh Frombul Fromist Fuirig Fëanonain Galach Galadel Galainner Galasdan Galladior Galleòin Gamir Gamli Gamlinn Gattist Geadaidh Gearnach Geron Gilgalbras Gillear Gillechaig Gilliantar Gimloth Giobasaig Girideac Giridh Girigh Giveduil Glasdaight Glodhsa Glóring Goliosa Gorner Govelendis Grach Graidhelm Griosd Guair Guing Guinn Guinur Gunded Gunna Gutralla Gwine Gwined Hadair Hadha Hallghuirg Haluimil Hanan Hanthough Haragorman Hared Hartaiwen Hasailip Hasdan Herios Heruce Herunír Hostan Húringwë Ianain Ilmaravi Ilúvatan Iminient Intenna Irice Ivanien Ivrin Ivrindë Jamer Journa Kaufmanwë Kingelos Knowman Kúvionaidh Lagor Lalandoher Lates Lawrencer Lobelist Logalagain Lothain Loudainn Lysach Lìosd Lìost Mablungol Maeglir Maglas Mainn Malaig Maleth Manized Manndaidh Maolaidhg Maolìosd Matar Matha Mathain Meanadha Melendur Minal Minarmer Miniel Minien Mithe Moirecear Moirein Moirnet Moles Morgothos Mostow Munnach Míril Nahadhg Namer Nerdaich Nevernhel Nimein Nimroth Niocaimh Nover Novernet Nínielsh Ohtan Oldberts Olóred Orondil Orondis Ostainn Ostor Padar Palaigh Palain Pallach Pengel Pengolais Pengorm Permais Permaith Phand Pharcroid Pharond Physicanar Physician Populach Primbert Professist Puids Racthe Raphich Rascalmir Ratar Rathaich Relaróf Riseid Rodreth Romiel Rosaing Ruair Ruimen Saeron Saigh Salader Salanain Salmhaoimh Saurunúmen Seamhair Sginn Sginnear Sginning Sgoth Sheòrsan Sligh Slight Slighty Sméagor Sméagorman Snapchaidh Snapchared Snowman Snown Soron Sourchatan Stamir Stock Stoher Strallas Surnier Suthain Suthair Suthanaigh Sùdrais Súrin Súrindil Tanaidh Taname Tantain Tarondil Tatant Tation Teleth Tennigh Tents Thein Thelby Thomais Thori Thost Thraichain Tinaliond Tinduil Trebor Ufthart Ugliter Ugluim Uinur Ulfastain Ulfastein Ulfastridh Umbar Umphranach Undel Uniteac Uniteadain Urchair Valach Valain Valar Vardaigh Vincer Voromist Voron Wallador Wined Worde Wormain Wormeriën Wrigh Writh Yaher Yearadh Yeart Younter Zimroth Éomerin Éothaich
same thing but lesser order
Acgualacil Adaidh Adasdais Agaider Ainyan Alach Alanais Alasseed Alemireed Alisheleas Alitlenbre Alled Almoncron Amein Amest Amhar Amhlach Amier Ampor Anach Anachorair Anacnionna Ancalgraig Andorig Anellian Anovelrosa Anámonn Aracil Aractor Arahers Arahin Arando Ardaiden Ardil Argavi Armein Aroysty Artath Arvin Asdail Athalach Athirm Aughthair Auren Bagort Baigh Balain Balauran Ballingel Baras Baridh Barratar Beagar Begillaich Beillfhiel Beillfhil Belemhlach Berakin Berië Bersainn Beurch Bhead Bhirc Bluine Bluire Blàrnaran Blàthar Bombor Bompar Bormaist Borna Borobh Bragals Brant Breacilmor Brealuimig Bream Briest Brobadainn Bruin Brumhlàrt Brylle Bràin Bucath Buccil Bucelein Busacild Busaldair Buthos Cainn Calainn Calais Calir Caluibhail Canach Candick Caola Caolë Cardilli Cealcild Ceannain Ceavrig Ceidinn Ceinyarais Celsh Cerran Chaichrath Cillon Ciock Coothe Corbhléibh Creborc Cridhsad Cuill Cuimbain Curanaign Daindor Danaidh Danch Danuran Deantis Dedel Deidha Deinndar Dohirch Draig Drendir Drethaegor Drigh Druidh Dubheatir Ducadainn Duinnag Durastras Dwatitar Dwind Déaliath Díriomus Dòmhairi Dòmhor Dùghabhra Ecalebhis Eldire Elemen Eleòil Ellecein Elraolan Eluin Elvela Entrainew Eonalan Eorop Ereado Essing Evagathar Evanada Evatine Eärenwë Eärnedh Eärway Fasais Fasan Faurtan Faxterit Fealan Femha Femhasd Ferieriter Fignor Finedh Fivegoldë Folór Foodraig Fornach Fousion Freth Frimron Frion Fréagel Fréall Frìghth Gaich Gavendube Geingolion Gessin Gillarvin Gillassa Gillean Gilled Gillegolf Gillettorn Gillfharry Gilliard Gimeldë Gimesh Gionover Gired Glanaróf Glialraidh Glong Gluimustis Goidhuinn Golandor Golcath Goldan Goldillair Gontion Goron Gothost Graeleme Grain Graleddel Granach Granaraned Grangeis Greargall Grimiritha Gringe Gritë Griën Guain Guidh Gwair Gwaláf Gwardarn Gwinnla Gòrain Haich Haiderig Haigh Hakethaig Halmost Hangh Harainnidh Heagothôr Helfhilleg Herke Huime Hysich Hámay Hámon Iadier Iartscain Ibhan Illimra Imehtagaig Innachar Iseis Isequez Istin Istiën Itaig Itein Itesed Ithich Ithrahain Jaccus Jacphann Jendrimron Kúvis Lacity Lanáin Learceant Leprion Lerke Lodruster Lonailler Lotbaig Lunúvi Léibhràil Lìmhlaich Mabher Mabhrop Maerion Maicha Mailmorch Makiel Malagor Malaoir Malber Manealas Manndandel Maogara Marain Maran Marryargan Maseat Massionon Matar Matin Matiusic Mawyn Mchar Mcklen Mcphàid Mielan Migharg Moidh Moiry Monacbham Montrionnd Morgandir Morman Mulmo Musicke Musir Mírimir Nagrighaig Nasdeòir Nielaus Nieldorna Nieledh Nithin Nogalairch Novelug Náinn Nákhôr Níniendor Nírin Oldorothar Orisra Orlion Orodhor Orweart Ouldan Paoil Paolach Peamir Peumen Phardainer Pheidhein Popuis Porfly Postreek Pothain Preaton Prebaign Prene Primus Priogaigh Pulfhich Railin Rampin Randruir Ratelas Relyë Renewingon Robhrus Rocealar Rodel Rodran Roirbht Romboca Rothar Rothrig Rúmeas Saidhùgh Saiseanain Sanniel Scains Scortarts Scrìghair Seacin Seameg Seandrador Seque Sgaer Sgainn Sgallair Sganedh Sgiliarn Sgridh Shelropuin Shrag Shraid Siogall Siondilia Skatt Somck Somnimhaig Songerand Sonwë Spaoin Spargill Spinn Staler Stity Suail Sumbuin Sùdric Súridhon Taighaig Tarnonan's Tarvid Tataich Tathein Tenessa Teraine Teregimus Thaer Thain Thaoldori Thnaig Thocaikaus Thrapher Thrazôn Thàide Tillais Tindeigh Tiùbhrin Tolfwin Toroc Tranaccum Tuaind Turch Turnuin Twillebhan Twindock Twine Tàidhin Uimbragove Ulaghder Ulain Ullobaick Ultulwin Undilechta Undohing Uolin Uornor Urnst Valsadail Vielech Waraid Water Wehtan's Wengon Winacarost Woottaidh Worgain Wrierke Yahattis Yavidh Zimichad Éombarda
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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year
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Squirrel
There are very few times that squirrels are mentioned in LotR (and none at all in RotK, fun fact!), but by far the most remarkable and hilarious one is when Anborn, a Ranger in Faramir’s company, mistakes Gollum for one of them.
This raises many questions. For one, we know that Gollum was once a creature very similar to hobbits, and we know that hobbits average about three feet tall. Now I don’t know how big squirrels are in your part of the world, but where I come from, they are Not That Big. What the heck kind of squirrels do they have in Gondor?? Or in Mirkwood, as Anborn theorizes it’s come from? I know they have giant spiders, but giant spiders have precedent in Middle Earth; there is no mother of all giant squirrels that hoarded acorns in the Two Trees of Valinor or something. How on earth does Anborn see something the size of a small child scrambling into a tree and his first thought is squirrel?? Dude, I know it’s the middle of the night, and flashlights haven’t been invented yet, and Gollum is probably far away, but even I can tell the difference between something the size of a small cat and something as big as a second-grader, and I’m not a freakin’ Ranger.
Faramir gives him a hard time about this later when they see Anborn’s “squirrel” diving and swimming in the Forbidden Pool, and rightfully so! Because Anborn is very very silly, and he deserves to be called out on it!
Speaking of very very silly, here’s an old doodle of Gollum in a squirrel costume.
You’re welcome.
WORD ASK GAME!
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Frodo shivered, listening with pity and disgust. He wished it would stop, and that he never need hear that voice again. Anborn was not far behind. He could creep back and ask him to get the huntsmen to shoot. They would probably get close enough, while Gollum was gorging and off his guard. Only one true shot, and Frodo would be rid of the miserable voice for ever. But no, Gollum had a claim on him now. The servant has a claim on the master for service, even service in fear.
– "The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien
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lordsxfgondor · 8 months
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𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐂 ; 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Aragorn (and Anborn if you want to )
𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐂 ; 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒
bold what applies, italic what sometimes applies and strike what never applies feel free to add on!
Aragorn
𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. being unable to stop smiling. laughter. bear hugs. happy tears. waving arms around. dancing. contently sighing. eyes twinkling. laugh lines. childlike playfulness. skipping. talking more. affection. cracking more jokes than usual. gesturing more when talking. higher pitched voice. squealing. jumping around. clapping.
𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. tearing up. self-hugging. one-arm cross. an aching chest. scratchy throat. a runny nose. turning away. deep breathes. quivery smiles. crying. infantile sobbing. hands gripping each other or an object. covering mouth. puffy eyes. eyes appear red. running makeup. voice breaking. a distant or empty stare. monotone voice. asking for comfort. faking a smile. crumbling. shaking. whimpering. depression. abusing an unhealthy habit. withdrawing from others. big teary eyes. doing something even if it could hurt them.
𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. furrowed brows. baring teeth. passive-aggressive comments. avoiding eye contact. sarcasm. headache. sore muscles. hiding clenched fists. irritability. jumping to conclusions. raising voice. going silent. demanding immediate action. keeping it all in until exploding. body tensing. making risky decisions. middle finger.
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫. wanting to flee or hide. what-ifs. images of what-could-be flashing in mind. uncontrollable trembling. rapid breathing. screaming. a skewed sense of time. irritability. keeping silent. denying fear. turning away from the cause. pretending to be brave. nail-biting. lip-biting. scratching skin. a joking tone but a voice that cracks. fainting. insomnia. panic attacks. exhaustion. substance abuse. tics. rushing adrenaline.  face draining of colour. hair lifting on the back of the neck. feeling rooted to the spot. making body as small as possible. staring but not seeing. crying. a shrill voice. whispering. gripping something or someone. stuttering. flinching at noises. pleading.
𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. constantly yawning. blurring words together. dark circles or lines under eyes. mood swings. hallucinations. calling people by the wrong name. dizziness. denying their tired. slow blinking. trouble concentrating. stumbling. leaning on a doorframe for support. sluggish movements. falling asleep someplace that isn’t a bed. becoming irritated by the smallest things. “i’m awake, i’m fine.”. shaking so bad they spill their drink. fall asleep in their clothes. lay their head on the table because they’re so tired. passing out. 
Anborn
𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. being unable to stop smiling. laughter. bear hugs. happy tears. waving arms around. dancing. contently sighing. eyes twinkling. laugh lines. childlike playfulness. skipping. talking more. affection. cracking more jokes than usual. gesturing more when talking. higher pitched voice. squealing. jumping around. clapping.
𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. tearing up. self-hugging. one-arm cross. an aching chest. scratchy throat. a runny nose. turning away. deep breathes. quivery smiles. crying. infantile sobbing. hands gripping each other or an object. covering mouth. puffy eyes. eyes appear red. running makeup. voice breaking. a distant or empty stare. monotone voice. asking for comfort. faking a smile. crumbling. shaking. whimpering. depression. abusing an unhealthy habit. withdrawing from others. big teary eyes. doing something even if it could hurt them.
𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. furrowed brows. baring teeth. passive-aggressive comments. avoiding eye contact. sarcasm. headache. sore muscles. hiding clenched fists. irritability. jumping to conclusions. raising voice. going silent. demanding immediate action. keeping it all in until exploding. body tensing. making risky decisions. middle finger.
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫. wanting to flee or hide. what-ifs. images of what-could-be flashing in mind. uncontrollable trembling. rapid breathing. screaming. a skewed sense of time. irritability. keeping silent. denying fear. turning away from the cause. pretending to be brave. nail-biting. lip-biting. scratching skin. a joking tone but a voice that cracks. fainting. insomnia. panic attacks. exhaustion. substance abuse. tics. rushing adrenaline.  face draining of colour. hair lifting on the back of the neck. feeling rooted to the spot. making body as small as possible. staring but not seeing. crying. a shrill voice. whispering. gripping something or someone. stuttering. flinching at noises. pleading.
𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. constantly yawning. blurring words together. dark circles or lines under eyes. mood swings. hallucinations. calling people by the wrong name. dizziness. denying their tired. slow blinking. trouble concentrating. stumbling. leaning on a doorframe for support. sluggish movements. falling asleep someplace that isn’t a bed. becoming irritated by the smallest things. “i’m awake, i’m fine.”. shaking so bad they spill their drink. fall asleep in their clothes. lay their head on the table because they’re so tired. passing out. 
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ao3feed-tolkien · 1 year
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Denethor and Thorongil
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6PNJjZ9
by what_katy_did_1234
When Justice Denethor sees his vague youngest brother Thorongil at a Café Salon in the company of a High Lady of Gondor, he is shocked and horrified. But as long as no one tells Denethor’s wife Luthien what he had for lunch, he hopes all will be well…
Words: 26074, Chapters: 7/7, Language: English
Series: Part 39 of LOTR fan fiction
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Other
Characters: Justice Denethor (OC), Lúthien (OC), Thorongil of Galaridh (OC), Justice Eradan (OC), Rumil (OC), Idis of Emyn Arnen (OC), Hirgon the tipstaff (OC), Ciryandil (OC), Hyarmendacil (OC), Halvien (OC), Faramir (Son of Denethor II), Egalmoth the Younger (barrister) (OC), Magistrate Anborn (OC), Beren of Galaridh (OC), Ecthelion of Emyn Arnen (OC), Beren of Anorien (OC), Éowyn (Tolkien), Éomer Éadig, Morwen of Emyn Arnen (OC), Duinion (OC), Aragorn | Estel, Forlong of Galaridh (OC), Berion of Galaridh (OC), Belecthor of Galaridh (OC), Cirion of Emyn Arnen (OC), Fang - a dog (OC), Captain Rador (OC), Chief Justice Carandir (OC), Lady Soriel (OC), Beruthiel - a cat (OC), Éothain (Rider of Rohan), Deorthric (OC)
Relationships: Denethor/Thorongil
Additional Tags: Inspired by The Lord of the Rings, Gondor, Family Feels, Protective Older Brothers, Brotherly Love, Shotgun Wedding, Awkward Conversations, Coffee Shops, Coffee, Weddings, Legal Drama
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6PNJjZ9
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Sentinel or Guide?
For some of the muses written by: @sorrowssinger
Elves Maglor: Sentinel - a hidden one as everyone thinks he's a Guide. Turgon: Guide - although he could be either. Elrond: Guide - no doubt about that! Erenion: Sentinel? - Little bit uncertain as I don't really know enough about him if I'm honest.
Men Aragorn: Sentinel - OBVIOUSLY!!! 😅 Faramir: Guide - only a select few know this at his mother's advice, although his brother knows Boromir: Sentinel. Anborn: Mundane - so he's worked hard to get to where he is in the Ithilien Rangers Damrod: Feels like a Guide to me
Random one from your list Denethor: Dormant Sentinel - He was a Sentinel but his use of the Anor stone caused his abilities to shut down over time, until he finally went Dormant
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