#and Sam called Frodo's face beautiful in the books
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Hi, I am also a Frodo lover and would like to know if you could write an imagine about dating Frodo and thank you for taking the time to read this.
Here Always
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: nothin' but fluff here
A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've had a bit of a busy week. I hope you enjoy it. Hopefully the content will make up for my tardiness.
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“Y/N. Y/N.”
You started awake. You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep. Gandalf stood above you, a hand on your shoulder.
“Gandalf!” you cried, standing. “Oh dear I fell asleep! Is Frodo alright? Has anything happened?”
Gandalf smiled down at you. “Frodo is alright. Elrond has cured him of the wound from the Nazgûl blade. He will be out of his room in a minute.”
You jumped up and gave Gandalf a hug. “Thank you for looking after him. I don’t know what we would do without you.”
Gandalf smiled down at you. “Of course, of course. I must talk with Elrond now, so I will see you later.”
“Alright then. Good day.”
Gandalf nodded and walked off. You paced the floor, looking over the balcony nearby at Rivendell, breathing in the free air. When Frodo had been stabbed by the Nazgûl, Arwen, an elf you had bonded with almost immediately, had taken him to Rivendell in much haste. You had been left behind, since Arwen’s horse couldn’t carry multiple hobbits and an elf. You had been very distraught since then, not attempting to hold back your fear. Strider had led you, Sam, Merry, and Pippin as quickly as you could manage to Rivendell. Ever since you had arrived, you and Sam had hardly slept. You had stayed right by Frodo’s side as long as Elrond would let you. Finally, though, he had asked you to stand out of the way so you had taken a seat on a soft recamier that sat right outside Frodo’s room and, apparently, you had fallen asleep.
But you were awake now, and all was well now that Frodo was healed. For the first time since your arrival, you were able to take in the beauty of the Hidden Valley. You felt wholly at peace. You rested your chin and arms on the balcony’s edge, closing your eyes and listening to the song of a waterfall not far away.
“Y/N,” a soft voice behind you called.
You whirled around. Frodo stood there, alive and well. A smile was on his face and in his eyes.
“Frodo!” You leapt into his open arms, hugging him as tight as you could without hurting him. “Frodo! I was so frightened when you left! I thought . . . I thought . . .” You could not finish the sentence for you were so overwhelmed with joy that it spilled out of your heart and eyes.
“I am here,” Frodo said, stroking your head. “I shan’t leave you. I will not.”
For a few sweet moments, the two of you held each other in the golden sunlight of the day, not saying anything because nothing needed to be said. Then Sam, Merry, and Pippin ran up and there was much joy in the reunion. Everyone was talking at once, full of merriment and delight. You couldn’t describe how glad you were to see a smile on Frodo’s face again and life in his lovely eyes. His laugh was priceless and endlessly pleasant to listen to. It healed any remnants of fear and doubt that lingered in your heart, filling it (if it was possible) with even more joy. It was then that Frodo spotted Bilbo sitting not far away on a stone bench.
“Bilbo!” Frodo cried, running up to give him a hug.
“Frodo, my lad!” Bilbo said, returning the gesture. “And you too, Y/N. Come on!” He beckoned you to join the hug. You didn’t object.
You had been quite close to Bilbo ever since you and Frodo had started courting. You had loved the old hobbit dearly and you had helped him a lot with his book. You were fascinated by his tales of his adventures and, like Frodo, had secretly wished to go on an adventure of your own some day. That day had come sooner than you had thought, but you weren’t going to complain. Everything was alright and you were happy.
“Come,” Bilbo said at last, “I have things to show you both.” And he led the two of you off.
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You and Frodo spent most of the day with Bilbo. He had made much progress in his book and you were quite delighted to see the beautiful thing. Bilbo also showed you around Rivendell a bit. You saw stunning waterfalls, exquisite marble buildings, and ancient trees. The elves were all very nice but also mysterious, not in a bad way necessarily. You could see some deep meaning in their eyes that seemed beyond your reach of thought, something sad and wise. You didn’t bother much about it though, for you thought it would possibly be thought rude to ask about it if ever you could put it into words.
Towards sunset as the day bid farewell, painting the sky stunning colors, Bilbo left you and Frodo to talk to Gandalf a bit, wherever he might have been. Frodo then offered you his arm and you walked slowly down the paths Bilbo had shown you earlier.
“It has been quite a day,” Frodo said, laying his head on yours which rested on his shoulder.
“Indeed it has,” you said, closing your eyes. “I’m just glad I got to spend it with you.”
“As am I.” Frodo smiled at you, something that filled you with warmth no matter what, and kissed your head so gently you barely felt it.
You reached out your hand and caressed his cheek with the utmost care and then brushed back a rouge hair from his face.
“I love you,” you whispered.
“And I love you, Y/N. More than I can say.” Frodo tenderly pressed his forehead against yours.
“Mr. Frodo!”
You and Frodo suddenly let go and you turned to face Sam who had appeared now in front of you. Frodo’s face flushed and you avoided Sam’s gaze and scuffed a leaf that lay on the ground, smiling.
“Oh . . .” Sam said, scratching his head. “Sorry Mr. Frodo. Begging your pardon, and you too Miss Y/N. I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“What is it, Sam?” Frodo asked.
“Well, I was just going to say that Pippin told me that Bilbo told him that tonight the elves are hosting a feast in your honor. There’s going to be singing and dancing and lots of food. It’ll be a jolly good time! I best get ready now.” With that Sam went off and disappeared.
“Singing and dancing,” you said, looking at Frodo. “Sounds to me like a good time. I wonder how elvish parties compare to our hobbit ones?”
“I guess we will find out,” Frodo said. You took his arm again and then you headed off. The sun lowered below the mountains just then, and many torches were lit simultaneously. You could see shapes of elves and other figures making their way towards the Hall of Fire, where the banquet was to be held.
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It was a good time indeed. There were foods of the like which you had never seen before that had wonderful tastes. Everything was delicious. Elrond, Strider, Arwen, Gandalf, and all the hobbits were present along with many elves and even some people from other lands. You had heard whispers of some council being held the next day but Gandalf wouldn’t tell you anything. You didn’t fret too much and decided to enjoy the night.
After the feast finished, everyone migrated to the central part of the Hall where many fires were lit. The walls glowed subtle orange like that of clay or rust with flickers of flashing yellow. Immediately, some of the elves started singing in their tongue a song of days long past. You and Frodo sat on a small couch-like seat along the wall and watched them. As they sang, though you knew not what they said, you could see in your mind oceans and mountains, plains and forests, elves dancing, beasts roaming, and silver stars lighting an endless night. For some reason you did not understand, it brought tears to your eyes and try as you might, you couldn’t hold them back. Frodo put his arm around you and you leaned into him, smiling. The elves sang many songs, some sad and sweet, some lively and filled with laughter.
A good while passed and you and Frodo were watching everything intently and full of wonder. Finally, Strider stood with Arwen and the elves formed a ring around them with their partners. The ones playing the instruments began a calm and happy song that started out slow at first. As Arwen and Strider gilded flawlessly over the floor, they beckoned you to join the company.
“Come,” Strider said as they passed by. “Come, both of you, and join the dance.”
“I do not prefer to dance in front of so many,” you said.
“It is a blessed dance,” Arwen replied. “You will be glad for it.”
“Would it be alright if we just sat here?” Frodo asked meekly.
“Come! Join us!” Strider beckoned again.
You looked at Frodo whose face was as indecisive as you felt. He met your gaze and Strider bade you both to join them again. Some of the other elves insisted too.
“Let us see how the halflings meet the music,” they said.
Finally, you gave way. Frodo stood and held out his hand and you took it. The ring of elves parted to allow the two of you into the middle. Frodo guided you to the middle where Strider and Arwen were swaying in perfect rhythm. They seemed to be anticipating a change in the song. Frodo held your hands in his own and glanced around unsure of what to do next.
“I am not entirely sure what we are doing, exactly,” Frodo whispered to you.
“Neither am I,” you whispered back.
“Follow where the music leads,” Arwen called. “Move your feet and the song will take care of the rest.”
You started out like Strider and Arwen, moving slowly and staying in step, but just as you had presumed, the music began to quicken. Arwen and Strider moved quicker but not less smoothly. You and Frodo followed, quickening your steps. The elves were happy that you had joined and were comfortable enough to do such a daring thing. They cared less whether or not your movement was pleasurable. Suddenly, the music took a leap and those around you started clapping in rhythm. The instruments sang louder and faster now.
“Let us show them how hobbits meet music,” Frodo said with a smile. He didn’t seem as nervous now. You weren’t either, only a little.
You grinned. “Shall we?”
All in one moment, you and Frodo picked up your pace, dancing in brilliant hobbit fashion. You both were rather used to moving with fast-paced music, as was tradition at most parties. The two of you skipped around and laughed as you did. Frodo twirled you and led you steadily through. All that were watching were delighted, but especially Sam, Merry, and Pippin who almost joined in themselves. More took part in the clapping and Arwen and Strider stepped out of the circle to give the two of you space. The song was ever heightening and quickening. Soon, you thought your feet barely touched the floor, but Frodo made sure neither of you fell. Finally, the song came to its end with a sudden leap and everyone clapped. Frodo laughed and you couldn’t stop smiling from the exuberance of it all.
“Halflings can meet the music indeed!” Aragorn said, patting Frodo on the shoulder.
“I hope we did not disappoint,” Frodo said.
“No, you went beyond expectation, Mr. Underhill. A fine couple the two of you make.”
You looked away bashfully and Frodo smiled, looking down. Frodo then gave you his arm and led you off the dancing floor.
“That was something,” you said at last, sitting down.
“Indeed. It wasn’t too much to ask, I hope?” Frodo said.
“Oh, no. In front of so many people is slightly uncomfortable, but someone once said that there are better things than being comfortable. I guess it is good to do something you normally wouldn’t every now and then, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” Frodo looked at the arched doorway of the Hall of Fire. Night was full and the moon was high. “I would like to walk out there tonight. Would you like to come?”
“Of course,” you said, standing. “I don’t want to leave your side again.”
Frodo put his arm around you and the two of you disappeared unnoticed, at least, you thought you were unnoticed, but the others let you be, smiling at your tender affection. You and Frodo walked much like you had earlier that day, with your head on his shoulder, taking in the beauty of it all. And the night was beautiful indeed. Other than the elves singing, there were the waterfalls and crickets. Everything was brushed gently in the moon and starlight. Everything felt peaceful, as if nothing was wrong in the world. Of course, you knew that wasn’t true, but in Rivendell it was, and you were wholly content to be with Frodo. You wanted nothing else, and that much you made rather plain. You noticed now that Frodo was looking at you.
“Is . . . is something on your mind Y/N?” he asked quietly.
“Nothing much, really,” you said. “I love this place, Rivendell. Bilbo was right, it is magnificent. It is wonderful but more than that, I am glad you are here and are well. I’ve never known such fear and loneliness as when you left, but I also have never known such joy and gratitude as when you came back. You mean more to me than I could properly describe and I hope you know that.”
“I do,” Frodo said. “I do know it and I love you for it. I love you the same, though I am no poet. I wouldn’t ask for another, Y/N. I never would. Whether we go home after this, or something other, I want you to know that I am extremely thankful that you are here. I want you here always. I want to be here always.”
“And I will be here always,” you said, smiling. “I mean that as a promise, Mr. Underhill.”
“Then I double the promise,” Frodo said, holding you in his arms. “I shall be here always.”
#frodo x reader#frodo baggins#frodo x you#lotr fanfic#lord of the rings#lord of the rings fanfiction#hobbit x reader#hobbits#lotr x reader#rivendell#fanfic#requested#requested fic#lotr fluff#fluffy fic
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Can I pls have fluffy and romantic Samfro (Sam/Frodo) where after they destroy the ring before frodo leaves at the end of return of the king?
for @micheleamidalajedi
I would like to let you know that I may have misread your meaning for the prompt, so i may be different from what you actually wanted. If that is so, then i apologize, and i hope this will make up for it :)
━─━────༺༻────━─━
The scratching of the ink quill lulled Frodo into an almost sense of peace. His hand smoothed the softly made parchment that smelled of pipe weed and honeycombs crinkling at the sides and firmly held when his pen made the quickest of movements. He had found the stacks of parchment earlier under many trunks of clutter after cleaning up after lobelia had moved out.
It was bilbo's signature, he recognized, with a small dot of ink well on the corner of the page where he must have spilled when creating the red book of westmarch. It felt meaningful now that came into his possession the only thing that was truly his uncles, no longer the ring, or even bag end would ground him anymore.
There was the sound of the door creaking open, and shuffling that only sounded like one person he knew. Frodo placed down his pen, the corners of his lips quirked up as he recognized the sound of those padded feet.
However, though it seemed that he was rotting in the darkness left from the ring there was one hobbit that still grounded him, that kept him tethered to this earth, with his unconditional love.
“Sam? That is you right?”
“Of course m- frodo! Just-” there was a sound of a loud oomf and a muffled cursing. Sam rarely cursed, and he couldn't help but feel fear course through him.
“Are you alright dear?”
“I’m alright, I’m alright!” Sam called back, still in the other room. He could imagine him waving his broad hands around as an indication that he had everything under control.
“Damn it Sam, you're going to ruin the surprise!” he heard sam chided himself in a concealed whisper.
“Surprise? I think you've already given it away darling” Frodo laughed brightly, suddenly falling into a sunnier mood.
“You can't ruin a surprise if you don't see it I say! Or at least that is what my old gaffer said”
Frodo only smiled and shook his head, and he pondered that the sound of an ink pen on paper wasn't the only thing that could calm his troubled mind. He waited patiently in his writing room, snickering as he heard the sound of shuffling as if his husband in the other room was doing a balancing act.
Then there was a knock on the door and Frodo let him in.
“Sam, I-” Frodo stood there, shocked. Sam gave him a shy grin as he held-if he counted seven bouquets of flowers in two of his hands, some even hanging dangerously at the edge of the vast pockets of his wool pants.
“Do you think it's good enough? I feel like I haven't done something nice for you in a while, and I thought, what if I got him some flowers? That will cheer him up!” Sam flushed as he said this, staring at his big toes. “I got them from Diamond, she was holding a market today….do you like them?”
Frodo felt his face was going to burn off from his wide smile. “Oh my sam! My beautiful sam!” he cried, grabbing his face and placing a passionate kiss on his lips. He soon realised this was a bad idea, for Sam tried to return the kiss, which caused one of the bouquets to nearly fall out of their place.
“The flowers!” Frodo noted, pulling back as Sam gave him a confused look. They both giggled, and he helped Sam place all the variety of flowers in different vases around the writing room.
“You didn't have to do this, you know.” Frodo said as Sam placed the last vase near the windowsill.
“Did you not like it?” he frowned with a furrowed brow.
“No! It's far from that, it's just-I don't know” Frodo sighed, resting his head on Sam's shoulder. He didn't have to see to know that Sam's face softened.
“Do you not think you deserve it? When you deserve it most out of everyone in hobbiton, or I dare say even the shire!”
Frodo groaned in disagreement, but Sam just took his face and cradled it in his worn hands.
“I love you mr frodo. Let me get you what you deserve, even if its just a few flowers.”
“Just a few flowers? You got me seven bouquets!”
“Not enough flowers I say”
Frodo nuzzled further into his chest. “Oh Samwise, what did I do to deserve you?”
“Everything, sir” he breathed into his hair, and Frodo couldn't help but laugh. Only Sam, the sweetest hobbit would be the one to keep him here. Grounded.
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If you want a writing requests, look at my pinned post here
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No, Tom Bombadi is NOT the Witch-King of Angmar
I recently came across an article online that brought up the fact that the character of Tom Bombadil is always left out of LoTR productions. According to that article, there is a fan theory that’s been around awhile that says Tom did, in fact, appear in the movies - “because he is the Witch-King of Angmar, Lord of the Nazgul aka Ringwraiths, in disguise.”
And I just…can’t….No, wait, I can. I can address this completely illogical idea.
I’ll list the reasons why this makes no sense, leaving the most obvious for last. I am obviously referencing the book here, but I will include a reason that applies to the films as much as to the book.
The hobbits first meet Tom when two of them are trapped by Old Man Willow and the other two are shouting for help. Why would the Witch-King bother to save Merry and Pippin? His only interest is in getting the Ring to return it to Sauron. Being in possession of a Ring of Power himself, as well as the sorcerous powers he had in life, the Witch-King surely would be able to tell which of the hobbits has the One Ring on him. Why wouldn’t he go straight for Frodo and take it?
When Tom later saves the hobbits from the Barrow-Wights, he chooses daggers for them from the Wights’ grave goods. It’s specifically explained in the text that the daggers were created by the men of Westernesse and used in their ancient battles against the Witch-King. Much later, as Eowyn faces the Lord of the Nazgul in battle, Merry stabs him in the back of the knee with his “sword” - the long dagger he was given by Tom, which has the power to break the Ring-Wraith’s spell holding his undead flesh together. How could Tom handle such a thing in the Wight’s tomb if it had the power to harm him?
The Nazgul terrify Farmer Maggot’s dogs, and horses on the battlefield; yet Tom not only calls the hobbits’ lost ponies back to them, he also brings one of his own to ride so he can see them safely to the borders of his lands - which, by the way, are verdant and beautiful, not blighted like every other location the Ringwraiths end up spending time in, such as Osgiliath. Also, the book states that when the servants of Mordor steal horses from the Rohirrim, they always choose the black horses, yet Tom’s pony, Fatty Lumpkin, is not black.
Many of the wise in Middle-Earth are aware of Tom’s existence. How could such folk as Elrond, ancient in power and knowledge, possessor of one of the three Elven Rings of Power, who once faced Sauron himself in battle, be so easily fooled by an illusion? Even stranger, how could Gandalf, who is actually a Maia, a powerful spirit in human form sent to Middle-Earth to help fight Sauron, possibly not know?
And the most obvious reason of all: Tom has Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin within arms’ reach for two days. They are completely vulnerable overnight while sleeping in his house. He asks to see the Ring, and Frodo hands it over. To reiterate, the Nazgul were commanded to bring the Ring back to Sauron. If Tom were the Witch-King, once he has the Ring in his hand, what’s the point of continuing the charade? Why give it back to the hobbits and risk it being lost, destroyed, or used against Sauron?
Last, there is no villain in LoTR who is not revealed as such. Whether book or movies, all of the bad guys are almost immediately identifiable as bad guys. Why would Tolkien not have revealed Tom’s “true nature” if Tom wasn’t exactly who he said he was? It’s even sillier to imagine three entire movies in which an important character’s secret identity is never revealed. Peter Jackson did not include Tom Bombadil in the movies, so Tom’s secretly being the Witch-King would not even be a plot point.
My dudes: Tom Bombadil is a nature spirit. As Tom tells the hobbits, he was there before Elves, Men, Hobbits, etc., and he’ll be there after they’re gone. He’s known as “Oldest and Fatherless.” He is the soul of Middle-Earth, or at the very least, a spiritual steward of the land around him. He specifically states that he is no master of the weather, so his power is limited to the green earth and growing things.
Goldberry tells the hobbits that Tom is “the Master,” but that he does not rule over the barrow-lands or the Old Forest. She also says that he “is master,” and my interpretation of this is: Master of himself. Tom Bombadil knows his place in Middle-Earth, and he is content with it.
Gandalf states that if Tom were to be given the Ring, he would not understand the need to keep it hidden, and might even lose it. The Ring has no power over him because, and this is my just my guess, he existed before it was made, and possibly also because he has none of the selfishness that Men, Elves, and Hobbits (and Orcs) have in them.
Tolkien loved the natural world. In my opinion, it makes perfect sense that he created a character who embodied that love. To some readers, Tom Bombadil appears foolish, too playful for a serious tale. I think that’s because people are deceived by his dancing and rhyming, not because he’s hiding evil under it, but because joy in the natural world is literally what he portrays and what he embodies, and sadly, we’re often so far removed from that joy that many of us fail to recognize it when we see it, and fail to celebrate it at all.
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The Orb of Truth
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/PRY6cj8
by Aria Breuer (Aria_Breuer)
The Second Wizardry War has begun. Now being one of the Chosen Ones, Frodo Baggins, sixteen turning seventeen, is faced with finding the only way to defeat Sauron. Love is in the air as well as chaos. Pre-War of the Ring and during "The Half-Blood Prince". Sequel to The Firebird's Call.
Words: 952, Chapters: 1/29, Language: English
Series: Part 6 of The Hobbit Wizards
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sleeping Beauty (1959), Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Categories: F/M, Gen, Multi
Characters: Frodo Baggins, Self-Insert - Character, Sam Gamgee, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Horace Slughorn, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Sauron | Mairon, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Romilda Vane, Lavender Brown, Cormac McLaggen, Luna Lovegood, Saruman | Curunír, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, Maleficent (Disney), Evil Queen (Disney), Lotho Sackville-Baggins
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Self-Insert, Frodo Baggins & Sam Gamgee, Frodo Baggins & Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Additional Tags: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Pre-War of the Ring, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Romance, Family, Friendship, Drama, Humor, Multiple Crossovers
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/PRY6cj8
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Kytober day 14: It’s me… It’s your Sam… Don’t you know your Sam?
(Click for better quality 🗡️)
[ID: A digital drawing of Frodo and Sam from Lord of the Rings. The upper section shows Frodo leaning over Sam, holding a short-sword and crying. Frodo is a hobbit with dark hair, pale skin and gray eyes. He is wearing a green cape, a white shirt, a brown vest and a golden ring around his neck. “I’ll cut your throat. That’ll shut you up” is written at the bottom of this section. In the background there is a wall and a ruined city in front of the mountains.
The lower section shows Sam lying on the floor crying, with the tip of a short-sword on his throat. Sam is a hobbit with blonde hair, light skin and green eyes. He is wearing a green cape, a white shirt and a beige vest. “You’re beautiful, Mr. Frodo” is written at the bottom of this section. End ID]
#Lord of the Rings#LotR#Frodo Baggins#Sam Gamgee#Samwise Gamgee#Samfro#The Two towers#Look that's just what that scene is#my art#Kyber Bonsai#Day 14 aka how I spen a whole day recreating a meme#rip to me#tolkientober#maybe!#to the person who just commented *they're not gay* out of the blue:#sorry babe your comment got deleted <3#Also that in the description is a tolkien quote#and Sam called Frodo's face beautiful in the books#and I've never said they're gay in this post???#maybe they are tho#glad you brought it up babe <3#also glad you care so much about male friendships#and the fact that calling your buddy beautiful should be normal and encouraged <3
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More Reading Thoughts: The Taming of Smeagol
"Well, master, we're in a fix and no mistake." Strong start! Hello, Sam! I missed your face! 8-D
One thing that was lost on me as a kid was just how difficult it would be for Frodo and Sam to navigate this rough terrain when they're so small and not terribly athletically inclined. I have now scrambled around on rocks at the rim of the Grand Canyon, and lemme tell you, just because you can see it doesn't mean you can get down there without breaking your legs.
"Yes, I can smell it." Elijah Wood's delivery of this line will never not make me giggle. That and "I think I've found the bottom." Am I twelve years old at heart? Why yes. Yes I am.
"Only those, what d'you call 'em, lembas, Mr. Frodo." I would just like to stop and express my appreciation that Tolkien so deliberately added these little verbal idiosyncrasies to convey Sam's accent to the reader. This is not me parodying the story. This is a direct quote. Did I expect to see the word "d'you" in this epic high fantasy story? No I didn't. Is it the best thing I've seen all day? Heck yes.
(Makes me wonder how Sam's accent is handled in translations of this story apart from English. Tolkien very deliberately put it in to mimic a very particular British dialect, that much is clear, so how do other translations adapt that to lower-class dialects in their own languages?)
"'There's nothing for it but to scramble down this gully, Sam. Let's see what it leads to!' 'A nasty drop, I'll bet.'" Always the voice of optimism, Sam.
"It is doubtful if he ever did anything braver in cold blood, or more unwise." Tolkien really said, "Sam slid himself right over the edge of that cliff and that was the single bravest and stupidest thing he ever did."
Ooh, Frodo went all blind all of the sudden! :-O I wonder if that's his shoulder wound acting up again....like that "wraith sight" is coming back in response to the Nazgul's screech. Either that or he's just got low blood pressure and the sudden shock of falling down made him grey out a little LOL
"'Stop chattering!' cried Frodo, now recovered enough to feel both amused and annoyed. 'Never mind your Gaffer!'" This hollered up the cliff-face after a near scrape with death. I love this book.
One of the great under-appreciated aspects of Frodo and Sam’s dynamic is the times when it becomes VERY CLEAR just how much older Frodo is. He’s dealing with Sam like an exasperated parent wrangling a hyperactive two-year-old and that’s just very funny to me. X-D
This entire conversation is just Frodo and Sam going back and forth like "I want to go down" "well I don't" "well I do, and I have seniority here" "good point"
"Ninny-hammers! Noodles! My beautiful rope!" I need to know more hobbit swears because these are GREAT
(This and Sam's accent are even funnier when you consider Tolkien's "meta explanation" for LotR. "Ah yes I translated this from the Red Book of Westmarch and turned these hobbit names into ones based off of Anglo-Saxon root words and blah blah blah" okay but WHAT WAS SAM ACTUALLY SAYING IN THE HOBBIT LANGUAGE THEN, TOLKIEN?? Where's your appendix on THAT?? Do hobbits actually use the name of a starchy food as a euphemism? Is the word for "noodles" phonetically similar to a swear word in Hobbit Language, like the Russian "blin" and "blyat"?? WHAT DO HOBBITS SAY WHEN THEY BANG THEIR THUMB WITH A HAMMER??? I DON'T NEED SLEEP, TOLKIEN, I NEED A N S W E R S)
Movie!Frodo: "Real elvish rope :-]" Book!Frodo: "LOL you almost killed us" Sam: "No I didn't TT-TT"
(Honestly I prefer the movie version. I know Frodo is just trying to find a sensible explanation for why the rope came down, but it does come across like he's blaming Sam for something that isn't his fault. Much prefer that little look of "huh...well then" that they give each other in the movie. That's just *chef's kiss*)
Frodo: *grabs Sam's arm* Me, being predictable: 8-D
Obviously much of the way these characters speak had to be adapted to fit the big screen. Gollum, though? He's just. Like that. He talks exactly the same. Like they didn't change anything at all. It's almost jarring.
Tolkien compares Gollum to an insect, a spider, a frog, a dog, and wet string. I have no comment on this, I just think it's brilliantly evocative and very funny.
Frodo responding out loud to the memory of his conversation with Gandalf in Moria is much more poignant when you realize that at this point, Frodo still thinks Gandalf is dead :-(
"Sam...seemed to sense that there was something odd about his master's mood and that the matter was beyond argument. All the same he was amazed at Frodo's reply." This just in: Main Character suddenly gets agency in the story after being tossed around like little more than baggage with feet for several chapters, Sidekick left stunned
"Frodo looked across at Sam. Their eyes met and they understood." Me, being PredictableTM: "hhhhrmnnnnggpppfffffttthhhnn"
Yes I am that basic girl whose favorite thing is when characters know each other so well they can communicate without talking to each other, shut up
"Frodo drew himself up, and again Sam was startled by his words and his stern voice." *Doofenschmirtz voice* If I had a nickel for every time I was caught off-guard by Frodo going all aggro on Gollum, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice—
"'Down! down!' said Frodo." Bro he literally is even using dog commands on Gollum. Bruhhhh.
Sam, internally: "boi this smeagol be actin' SUS—" *is slapped*
I guess this chapter is called “The Taming of Smeagol” because “Frodo and Sam Repeatedly Try and Fail to Get Down a Cliff” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
#samwise gamgee#frodo baggins#gollum#lord of the rings#lotr#my writing#assorted thoughts#boy i forgot how these boys are my muse#expect LOTS OF DRAWINGS#long post
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Walk In the Snow
Pairing: Yamato X Reader
Words: 852
For: @whatshernameis who deserves some soft Yamato hours. Also @kankuroplease who's art piece here gave me the idea for Yamato's book choice
The first snowfall of the year. When the trees would be dusted with a light layer of snow, and the ground would be white as far as the eye could see. Only the smallest hints of green grass or beige pave way visible under the layers of snow that covered the ground.
When all of Konoha looked like a winter wonderland. Bright and beautiful. Calling for everyone in the village to throw on their warmest jacket and take a walk.
To enjoy this rare moment of beauty before it vanished all too soon.
“Come on,” Yamato stumbled off of his nice little bed, dropping his book on the ground as he was herded out of a comfortable reading spot towards the front door. “Let’s go for a walk.”
His eyes darted towards the window, taking in the sight of snowfall just outside their little home. “Outside?” he frowned, glancing towards the fallen book with a mournful look. “But, I was reading.”
“You can read when we get back,” you chuckled, refusing to release your hold on his arm even when he attempts to bend down and pick up the book that had been so rudely discarded when you had grabbed him. “I promise. You can read all you want when we get back, but we need to go outside now.”
Before the snow stopped falling. When it was still fresh on the ground and the first footprints on the ground would be there’s, side by side on familiar streets. A momentary mark on the world that would be covered by the end of the day.
“But-” he sighed when you continue to walk, leading him towards the door. “It’s cold outside. Wouldn’t it be nicer to stay in? Enjoy the warmth?”
“We have all night to enjoy the warmth,” releasing your hold on his arm, you snatched your jacket off of its hook and tugged it on. “A whole night ahead of us to curl up in your little reading nook and feel the warmth on our skin. We can even have hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts.”
As expected, his ears perked up at the mention of chestnuts.
“We could just-”
“After a walk,” doing up the last button on your jacket, you turn to face him. “Come on, Yamato. It’ll be fun.”
“Being cold doesn’t really sound all that fun to me,” He grumbled under his breath, grabbing his jacket with a reluctant huff and pulling it over his shoulders. “I was enjoying my book too. Frodo and Sam just met Gollum.”
“Ah!” clapping your hands together, you give him a playful smile. “That’s the perfect place to take a break, though. When we get back you’ll be ready to read about all of the…well, you’ll find out.” He never liked it when you gave away important plots of the story, and to him everything was important.
“Are we going to walk long?” with his jacket done up, he grabbed the long green scarf off of the hook and wrapped it around his neck. “Or is this just going to be a quick walk around the block?”
“Well, I can’t promise it will be the second one,” there was too much to see. Too many memories to make at such a precious, rare moment of beauty in their little village. “But it won’t be too long, that I’ll promise. Maybe a quick walk to the market.”
The best views were always there. Where they could see the Hokage residence in all of its snowy glory, and watch the way clumps of snow fell off of signs and roofs onto the ground.
“Well,” finishing up with his scarf, he took a step closer to you. A happy expression in those big, goofy eyes of his. “If it’s for you I guess I can handle it.”
Always a sap. Even when he tried his best to act like a good soldier, deep down inside he was just one giant gooey sap.
Your sap.
“I thought you might come around,” slipping your shoes on, you shoved the door open and stepped out into the snow. The first snowflake falls against your nose and melts immediately. Leaving no evidence of its existence. “It’ll be fun.”
“So long as you promise not to throw any snowballs at me.” stepping up to your side, peered down the street. Only outside for five seconds, and he was already trying to kill your fun. Some days it was hard to remember why you loved the man so much when he couldn’t even let you enjoy something as small as the first snowfall of the year.
“I make no promises,” it wouldn’t be any fun to let him in on what you had planned, even if it didn’t include shoving a hand full of snow in his face just to see the cute angry expression he would give you. “Now come on. I want to make a snow shinobi.”
Grabbing his hand, you pulled him away from the door and down the street. The first footprints on the pavement were made as you rushed forward with Yamato stumbling behind you.
Tags: @apricitobio @yanjing @iamonlybutaneel @lemony-snickers @kissmekakashi @kakashiswilloffire
#Yamato X Reader#Yamato X GNReader#12 Days of Shipmas#Me trying to remember all my reader insert loving mutuals is always a fun experience lol
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i was just thinking. what do you feel when you watch/read the lord of the rings, the hobbit?
I feel hope. not the kind of hope you'd get in a church, or somewhere else like. it's the kind of hope that comes swiftly; something that you realise was always there, but you never notice until you're watching once again lady galadriel say that even the smallest person can change the course of the future.
just think about it for a second. what do you feel when you see those big wargs, scary uruks, ugly orcs? when you hear the screaming of goblins flying from the balrog of moria? the screaming of the nazgul? the darkness of mordor all around? there's so much darkness. so much fear, so much hatred. and then you find yourself asking /the question/, as if you were there: how can the good prevail over such evil?
but you know it can. because you imagine the green forests of the shire, you imagine mirkwood and what's become of it - you know that even in it's darkest times you'd still like to go there and see -, you think of rivendell and lothlorien, of the little shire rivers, of the things that grow. you think of beautiful things and you know that they are real, that they exist in real life, and that they are worth fighting for. that they are worth living for. that all of those monsters we see - orcs, goblins, balrog, uruks, trolls, nazguls, wargs, the dark lord himself, and even a dragon: you know that they represent the dangers of the world, the real world, that we must face even when we feel small. even when we are the smallest of all the small people. even when we are afraid, even when darkness seems to close in. we must fight for the good that are inside of us, for the good that is still out there. for those little rivers and mountains, for those green forests that might not be green for long now.
that's how tolkien's stories give me hope.
sometimes all I wish is to be bilbo baggins stepping out of his comfortable hobbit hole to an unknown adventure; and then I remember im already in one, in more than one, and I'm as brave as a baggins or a took. all of us are. 'cause are there any doctors or pills in middle earth to save frodo from his fears, his anxiety, his burden? is there anything to help sam control his anger? there's only love. love that we also carry. we might have all the science in our pocket, but we also have love. and it's love and friendship that take us back home.
and if frodo and sam can walk from the shire to rivendell and then to mordor, i can walk down the stairs of my building to go to work. if merry and pippin can fight a wizard with water and rocks (and trees), i can fight my own imaginary wizards throwing imaginary rocks at them and screaming fuck you saruman.
aragorn can resist the calling of the ring. I can resist the calling of the window.
legolas can give up his prince life to live on the road with a ranger. I can give up the comforts of home to face the world outside. to discover what's out there and what it has to teach me.
just like gandalf told bilbo, the world isn't in my books or maps. it's out there. and I wanna see it, no matter how dangerous it is. there's still beautiful things amongst all this evil - there are still things worth fighting for. and when you're done with it all, when you're sitting in your rocking chair by the fireplace, you'll remember those dreads you faced as something so small, but that made a huge difference. it wasn't as impossible as i thought, was it? I just had to keep walking.
you'll also remember all the good you have seen, experienced and shared with others. then your chest will be filled with warmth, and you'll know that there's nothing you would've done different. you would step out of that door and do it all again if you had the chance, 'cause now you know:
there is always hope.
#original post#lotr#the Lord of the rings#frodo baggins#samwise gamgee#merry and pippin#aragorn#legolas#gandalf#the hobbit#bilbo baggins#tolkien#tolkien's legendarium#the fellowship of the ring#the two towers#the return of the king#lotr pippin#lotr films#lotr fellowship
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I was talking the other day about how strongly Faramir is associated with Númenor in the book, and thought I’d actually look up his scenes/references to him to see how persistent the association really is. So here are the occasions I found where he either refers to Númenor stuff or is associated with it:
“We of my house are not of the line of Elendil, though the blood of Númenor is in us.”
—Faramir, “Window on the West”
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“War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend: the city of the Men of Númenor”
—Faramir, “Window on the West”
-
Before they ate, Faramir and all his men turned and faced west in a moment of silence. Faramir signed to Frodo and Sam that they should do likewise.
“So we always do,” he said, as they sat down: “we look towards Númenor that was, and beyond to Elvenhome that is, and to that which is beyond Elvenhome and will ever be.”
—“Window on the West”
-
“We are a failing people, a springless autumn. The Men of Númenor were settled far and wide on the shores and seaward regions of the Great Lands, but for the most part they fell into evils and follies ... It is not said that evil arts were ever practised in Gondor, or that the Nameless One was ever named in honour there; and the old wisdom and beauty brought out of the West remained long in the realm of the sons of Elendil the Fair, and they linger there still.”
—Faramir, “Window on the West”
-
“Death was ever present [in Gondor], because the Númenoreans still, as they had in their old kingdom, and so lost it, hungered after endless life unchanging.”
—Faramir, “Window on the West”
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“For so we reckon Men in our lore, calling them the High, or Men of the West, which were Númenoreans ... we too have become more like to them [the Rohirrim], and can scarce claim any longer the title High. We are become Middle Men, of the Twilight, but with memory of other things.”
—Faramir, “Window on the West”
-
“But there you touch upon another point in which we have changed, declining from Númenor to Middle-earth ... For as you may know, if Mithrandir was your companion and you have spoken with Elrond, the Edain, the Fathers of the Númenoreans, fought beside the Elves in the first wars, and were rewarded by the gift of the kingdom in the midst of the Sea, within sight of Elvenhome.”
—Faramir, “Window on the West”
-
“Ah well, sir,” said Sam, “you said my master had an elvish air; and that was good and true. But I can say this: you have an air too, sir, that reminds me of, of—well, Gandalf, of wizards.”
“Maybe,” said Faramir. “Maybe you discern from far away the air of Númenor.”
—“Window on the West”
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“It is said [of the conquerors of Minas Ithil] that their lords were men of Númenor who had fallen into dark wickedness”
—Faramir, “The Forbidden Pool”
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“Until that time, or some other time beyond the vision of the Seeing-stones of Númenor, farewell!”
—Faramir, “The Forbidden Pool”
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“He [Denethor] is not as other men of this time, Pippin, and whatever be his descent from father to son, by some chance the blood of Westernesse runs nearly true in him; as it does in his other son, Faramir”
—Gandalf, “Minas Tirith”
(Sidenote: in Letter 230, Tolkien paraphrases this as a reference to “the curious fact that even in the much less well preserved house of the stewards Denethor had come out as almost purely Númenórean”; i.e., the meaning of the original ROTK passage is not that Denethor and Faramir are almost Númenórean, but that by a quirk of genetics, they’re almost entirely Númenórean)
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Here was one with an air of high nobility such as Aragorn at times revealed, less high perhaps, but yet also less incalculable and remote: one of the Kings of Men born into a later time
—“The Siege of Gondor”
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“It reminds me of Númenor,” said Faramir, and wondered to hear himself speak.
“Of Númenor?” said Éowyn.
“Yes,” said Faramir, “of the land of Westernesse that foundered, and of the great dark wave climbing over the green lands and above the hills, and coming on, dakrness unescapable. I often dream of it.”
—“The Steward and the King”
#i might have missed something of course#and this is just within lotr itself#there's other stuff about the house of the stewards (both in lotr and outside of it) that i didn't include#because it's not specifically about faramir#but still#quite a bit!#anghraine babbles#legendarium blogging#faramir#jewel of the seashore#lord of the rings#jrr tolkien#húrinionath#númenórë#total tangent but bc so many of the references are in his ttt scenes#i ended up re-reading most of them and i'd forgotten how clear his grief for boromir is#i stand by my opinion that his criticisms are honest enough but fairly calculated ... but they're also not all he has to say by any means#i might do a collection of references for that too
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Half-elven week: Day 4 - Power
Elrond parried a great blow from Grond II. How had it come to this? He had lead a small group of warriors from Rivendell in hopes of defeating the orc armies all the more swiftly.
The hobbits had completed their task honorably. Barad-dûr had crumbled and Thorondor had gone to rescue Frodo and Sam from certain death as a token of Manwë's gratitude. That should have been the end of it!
But no. Sauron himself had entered onto the battlefield, his helm tall and black, his breastplate broad and unassailable. Many great warriors had attempted to defeat him and were batted away like flies. His band from Rivendell was scattered across the field. Glorfindel was half a mile north doing battle with one of the Nazgûl, his hair tied in three great braids. Elladan and Elrohir were to the west holding the line between the battle and the city and driving the orcs ever backwards towards Osgiliath.
He swung around and attempted to stab the enemy in the back but his blade met nothing but empty air. He felt anger well up within him. Sauron and his master were responsible for the disappearance of his father, mother, and wife into the west. He was responsible for the death of Gil-Galad, his friend and for the torture of Maedhros, his foster-father. And for that he would die.
Elrond sprang at him with a yell from eight different throats, beautiful and terrible to hear. The ground shook beneath them as they fought. Back and forth, one wounding the other, neither taking notice.
Elrond felt his mind connect with the world around him, the stone beneath his feet sang loud in his ears. He felt his muscles writhing beneath his skin, begging to be released. He felt his teeth lengthen and sharpen and his hair begin to thrash around his head.
He felt alive.
Sauron's helm lay several feet away, crushed by the shifting earth. His face, once beautiful, was now misshapen and loathsome to look upon.
Elrond took a deep breath, the stone around them quieting. He cast down his sword and spoke, the voices of Melian, Lúthien, Dior, Eluréd, Elurín, Elwing, Elros, Vardamir, Tindòmiel, Manwendil, Atanalcar, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen intertwined with his own. "You shall die this day, oh Putrid One. You shall die and the world shall be free. YOU SHALL DIE!"
Sauron was frozen in shock and horror. Surely this was one of the Valar in disguise. It surely could not be one of the Firstborn!
He had hardly finished his thought when he felt a fist collide with his nose. He felt his bones creak and turn in on themselves. He felt a sharp stabbing pain in his head, and then he felt no more.
Elrond felt the power that had been sustaining him throughout this battle recede and all of his many wounds made themselves known. He deemed that his shoulder was probably dislocated his arm was definitely broken, several of his ribs were broken or cracked, he felt several lacerations, and his head hurt. The most worrying of all his wounds however, was the knife buried in his side. He should probably get that seen to.
----------------------------------------------
"Ada!"
"Lord Elrond!"
The battle had ended some time ago and Elrond was still unaccounted for. Glorfindel had managed to pry it out of a wounded elf that he had last been seen in this area of the battlefield, standing alone against Sauron himself. Glorfindel had immediately reported this to Elrohir, who decided to leave Elladan in the capable hands of the healers so he could go search for their father.
Glorfindel did not hold much hope for the fate of his lord, but he hoped at least to find a body. "Glorfindel, over here!"
He turned quickly and saw what Elrohir had called his attention to. Slumped against a rock was Elrond. Elrohir knelt by his side and checked to see if he lived or not. Glorfindel prayed to any Vala that would listen for Elrond’s survival.
Elrohir let out a sob and Glorfindel looked up, fearing the worst. "He lives!" Elrohir was grinning, tears streaming down his face.
"We must get him back to the healers' tents if he is to live yet longer. Quickly, are there any wounds that would keep us from moving him?"
Elrohir wiped his tears and gave his father a cursory examination. "There is only this knife. I have brought bandages with me so I can stabilize the knife."
Glorfindel nodded, surveying the area to find the easiest way back. "Good. Do so with haste."
----------------------------------------------
It was three days later when Elrond awoke. He lay still a moment, trying to remember exactly what happened and what was still injured. His arm was wrapped tightly, as were his ribs, but everything else was just a dull ache.
He opened his eyes to see his sons fast asleep on the bed next to him. He turned his head slowly and saw his friend in a chair by his bedside, reading a book by candlelight. "Glorfindel..."
Glorfindel's head snapped up at the weak whisper. "Elrond! You are awake!" He whispered.
Elrond nodded slowly, still disoriented. "Yes... did we win?"
Glorfindel chuckled. "Aye, we won. Thanks mostly to you I believe."
Elrond hummed. "That was quite the fight."
"To put it mildly." Glorfindel laughed incredulously. "I am told you made the very ground shake and vanquished Sauron with a blow of your HAND! There will be many songs of your feats that day."
Elrond yawned, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Perhaps, but for now, I will rest."
"You have earned your rest my friend. Many times over." Glorfindel's words fell on deaf ears. Elrond was already asleep.
#halfelvenweek#elrond#sauron#glorfindel#elladan#elrohir#eldritch maia#eldritch peredhel#elrond is super powerful#bamf elrond#lotr#return of the king#war of the ring#elrond’s rocks#that headcanon will not die#glorfindel's hair#he learned his lesson
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in your expert opinion: is sam gamgee a himbo?
OOooooo Interesting Question Anon!
Thank you for asking!
I'm defos not an expert but I appreciate the compliment!
Just a wee disclaimer before I give my thoughts - THESE ARE COMPLETELY MY OWN OPINIONS/THOUGHTS ON THE TOPIC. You are 100% entitled to disagree with everything I say.
So, for the sake of discussion lets take the following definition of what a 'himbo' is; "Generally, a large (broad, tall, or buff) attractive man, who tends to be not very bright, but usually extremely nice and respectful." (Taken from Urban Dictionary)
I'm on the fence about whether you could call Sam a himbo.
On the one hand, the whole point of his character is that he is the 'unexpected hero' - a 'hero' born from an average everyday sort of person, someone everyone can relate to . So he was designed to not be academically bright in the way that Frodo is. He is a whole class beneath Frodo, Merry & Pippin and thus doesn't have an education in the 'fine arts' as they perhaps would've had.
He isn't stupid. That is VERY important. He is the only one smart enough to know Frodo can't do his task alone, he is the only one smart enough to understand how the ring truly corrupts Frodo, he is the only one smart enough to see how poisonous Gollum is to Frodo, he is the only one smart enough to understand the mental strain Frodo undergoes in order to complete the task. That takes INTELLIGENCE. More accurately, it takes emotional intelligence - which all the others are not as tuned into as Sam is.
BUT. He is absolutely intended to be the 'not very bright' hobbit out of the four of them - but this is in terms of academic achievement. Its like when they begin their journey, Sam really doesn't fully grasp the gravity of the task they must complete and why it is important. Its just a strange magic ring to him. Whilst all the others know what is at stake, they overlook the one thing Sam doesn't lose sight of - that Frodo cannot do it alone.
So yeah you could argue that Sam has himbo-traits as he isn't academically bright (but he IS bright in other aspects).
As for attractiveness, in my very humble opinion, I think he is very attractive and I typically find myself drawn to people who have his body type/shape. BUTTTT you could totally argue that because Sean Astin is a very good looking guy, Samwise consequently is too.
This is where I think it gets a bit grayer because from as I understand it - Sam (in the books) is very average and below in the looks department. He is absolutely NOT suppose to be particularly attractive or good looking, I don't think the hobbits in general in the books are meant to be super attractive - with the exception of Frodo who (if I recall correctly) is meant to have a nice/beautiful face.
If you take that into account, then no Samwise doesn't have himbo-traits because he isn't suppose to be attractive like a himbo should be.
It really comes down to whether you are looking at Book!Sam or Movie!Sam and whether or not YOU think he is attractive or clever (which again breaks down into your own personal opinion on what makes someone 'clever' or 'bright').
Thus, that is my opinion dear Anon - I am undecided.
What do you think? I'd love to hear if people think he is or isn't a himbo!
Thanks so much for the interesting question Anon!!! I really enjoyed thinking over it!
I hope you are having a wonderful day!
#asks#anon#sam#samwise#thank you for asking!!!! i really loved this question#i love talking about my BOI
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The Within Series | Legolas Greenleaf
Book 1: The Devil Within - Part 1.9
Mainlist | Serieslist
Nyx of Tyndall does not know love or kindness. Cursed at a young age by a jealous witch, Nyx has lived a life of solitude and death.
Until Gandalf the Grey requests her presence and uncontrollable skill in assisting a young Hobbit across Middle-Earth with nine others to destroy a ring so powerful all fall victim to its evil.
Not only must Nyx face Orcs, demons, and creatures she’s never seen before, but also the devil inside. Controlling the devil is the key to finding freedom in a spell that can’t be broken. But it will not be so easy for Nyx when every obstacle she faces pushes her to an edge she cannot return from.
Chapter Nine
Nyx slept soundlessly that night, which surprised her. She’d been dwelling on her decision to join the Fellowship the moment she’d agreed. She was tired. She didn’t want to go any further. And yet, looking into Frodo’s eyes and feeling no judgement from Aragorn, how could she possibly say no?
An elf woke Nyx up in the early hours of dawn, helping her into a warm tub and rubbing the stress away with a sponge. Nyx did her best to fight the anger at not being allowed to sleep in but she was aware of the water heating up a few degrees when it should have been cooling. Her anger was stronger than before. Harder to control.
Afterwards, the elf helped Nyx into dark pants – she couldn’t tell if they were brown or black – and a dark blue turtleneck tunic. Overtop, she was given a thick woollen cloak, black as night. Her hair was braided into two inverted braids which were then secured in a bun at the nape of her neck.
“Low maintenance,” the elf explained, standing up. “Will you be joining the others for breakfast?”
Nyx inhaled. Since her arrival she’d avoided eating in the dining hall. Being around so many people made her uncomfortable, which made it easier for the evil within to take control win. But she would be traveling with these people now for who knew how long. She would have to get used to it. But, perhaps, not yet. “Oh, um, no. I need to finish packing.”
The elf nodded and left. Nyx moved to the end of her bed, where Elrond’s gifts from the day before lay.
“You will need weapons, my dear. And not just this old…thing,” he looked at the scythe with disdain. The blade was chipped and dull, and the wooden handle was thinning where she often gripped it. The wood was also stained with blood, but it often was and Nyx had grown tired of washing the wood when she didn’t even see anyone.
“I don’t have any other weapons, Lord Elrond. I’m sure I will be fine.”
“Nonsense. Since your arrival, I have had my people working on some new weapons for you. Including a new scythe. Gandalf tells me you are quite attached.”
“It’s the only way I’m connected to them.” Gandalf had told Nyx that her parents had lived on farm before they had her. And though she didn’t have any memories of them, this made her feel close to them.
Elrond nodded and placed Nyx’s old scythe against the wall. “Then it will be waiting right here for you when you return. But you cannot take that into war. It will splinter on the first strike. Here,” Elrond lifted his arm and two Elves came in. One carried a thick bundle wrapped in cloth while the other carried a scythe made fully of metal, with strips of black wood running with the long handle from top to bottom.
Nyx ran her hand along it in awe. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is strong. It will serve you well. And here.” The second Elf unraveled the bundle of cloth, revealing two daggers with birch hilts and a knife with a red wood hilt. “For extra protection.”
Nyx smiled at Elrond. “Thank you. You owe me nothing and yet you always offer so much.”
Elrond smiled. “You are worth so much more than you think, Nyx of Tyndall. Soon you will see.”
Nyx smiled. “I really am sorry about your gazebo. And your Council Room floor.”
Elrond laughed. “Already forgiven. But don’t expect me to forget anytime soon.”
Nyx sheathed her weapons in the leather holster the Elf had dressed her in underneath her cloak. There were slots for her two daggers and the knife, plus an additional holster that she wore over her cloak. One strap went around her chest while the across her chest like a sash. The holster was on the back. She’d had a similar one before, but it seemed Elrond had replaced that as well.
Nyx knew breakfast would be over by nine, so she was in the courtyard at nine-oh-five, patiently waiting for the rest to arrive. Ever the punctual Elf, Legolas was the first to arrive.
“Good morning, Lady Nyx.”
Nyx grimaced. “Please, just Nyx.”
Legolas inclined his head, hands behind his back. He carried a bow and arrow, the bow made from a material unlike anything Nyx had ever seen. The holster for his quiver was similar to Nyx’s. His hair was braided the same as the day before: a small one going around each ear and a larger one for the hair on the crown of his head. He was dressed differently than when he had first arrived. He wore tall brown boots and grey pants. Arm guards over a grey shirt and a green elven tunic. He touched Nyx’s scythe, which she had in her hand at the moment. His fingers ran over a small inscription in elvish near the hilt of the blade.
“Dilthen lúg. Little Dragon,” Legolas read. “What does that mean?”
Nyx furrowed her brow. “It is what Gandalf used to call me…when I was a little girl. I almost forgot he used to call me that.”
“Why did he call you that?”
Nyx closed her eyes, but the memory was a good one. Those were rare for her. “I had the short temper of a dragon. Plus, my bad habit of catching fire made the nickname an easy choice for Gandalf. I used to find it endearing. Now, people say my name with malice and fear in their voices.”
“Why? You do not look so dangerous. Except, of course, for the large weapon in your hands.”
Nyx looked at the scythe as someone else joined the two of them and spoke. Aragorn. “Do not doubt her, Legolas. She has more fire in her than you think.”
Nyx looked away and took a few steps back, under an old stone arch. The two conversed and she ran her thumb over the inscription Legolas had pointed out. She hadn’t even noticed it until he’d mentioned it. She looked over at the Elf. He was laughing with Aragorn freely and she wondered how two people who’d seen battle and taken so many lives could still be so happy.
She looked at Aragorn. Though she knew he meant nothing ill, his words bothered her still, and she felt the anger inside her swell.
Take control of it.
Nyx leaned her head against the stone wall, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. They didn’t work. It seemed she had less control over the evil inside her since she carried the Ring.
“Nyx!”
Gandalf was standing in front her, waving his hand back and forth in front of her face. The rest of the Fellowship had arrived but, thankfully, no one was paying attention to the two.
“Sorry, Gandalf.”
“What is troubling you, my dear?”
“It’s the Ring. It did something to me. I feel…angrier. The littlest things are making me angry. This morning, I nearly cut off the Elf’s head when she woke me up. And just now, Aragorn.” Nyx shook her head. “Maybe it is best if I do not journey with you.”
“Nonsense, my dear. You are one of us. There is more good in you than you think. Come.”
“The Ring Bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom,” Elrond announced. “On you who travel with him, no oath or bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you.”
“The Fellowship awaits the Ring Bearer.”
Frodo turned nervously, taking the time to look at all the people who had chosen to accompany him on quest they may not return from. He walked through the group, leading the way.
The moment they crossed over Rivendell’s border, the air of magic dissipated, and Nyx suddenly felt it hard to breathe. She was at the back of the group with Aragorn who noticed instantly.
“Sacred Elven places suppress other forms of magic that is not their own for the sake of protection,” he explained. “Now outside of Rivendell, you once again feel the full force of the curse.”
“It wasn’t this bad before,” Nyx whispered, mainly to herself. “The Ring did something to me. To the curse.”
“Perhaps when we destroy it, you will go back to normal.”
Nyx didn’t know what normal was. “Do you really think we will destroy it?”
Aragorn was silent.
That afternoon they stopped for lunch and a longer break than usual. While Boromir helped Pippin and Merry work on their swordsmanship and Sam handed out plates of food to everyone, Nyx sat silently beside Gandalf as he smoked his trusty pipe.
Gimli, who was slightly behind Nyx and Gandalf, spoke surely, “If anyone was to ask of my opinion, which I note they are not, I’d say we are taking the long way ‘round. Gandalf, we could pass through the mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome.”
A sour taste filled Nyx’s mouth at the name of Moria, but she wasn’t quite sure why.
“No, Gimli,” Gandalf replied softly. “I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice.”
“Why?” Nyx asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Evil lurks close there in the shadows,” Gandalf replied. “And since we are already walking straight into the fire, it would be best to avoid it when possible.”
Legolas, who had been watching the north, suddenly moved to the other side of the rocky outcropping to watch the south. He stared intently.
“What is it? What do you see?”
Legolas glanced at Nyx, who was squinting to try and see what he saw.
“Nothing, it’s just a whiff of cloud,” Gimli insisted.
“It’s moving fast,” Boromir stood. “Against the wind.”
“Crebain from Dunland!” Legolas shouted.
“Hide!” Aragorn shouted.
Nyx grabbed for Legolas, who remained where he was, quickly searching for the perfect place to hide. She found it nearly instantly, five paces from where they stood now. She dragged him along, tugging him under the curved boulder. Together, they tried to quiet their breathing and still their movements. Nyx heard everybody else scatter, their feet thumping against the ground as they ran for cover. She could feel Legolas’ chest against her shoulder and tried to match his steady breathing. It was hard but she managed to slow her breathing and calm the fire dwelling in the pit of her stomach.
The sky darkened with the birds’ arrival, caws piercing the air. Nyx saw their shadows on the ground in front of her as they flew by, circling the area before leaving in the same way they came. Slowly everybody emerged and watched the birds leave. Legolas looked back at their hiding place. From where he stood, he could barely see where they’d hidden.
“That is an excellent hiding spot,” Legolas admired.
Nyx shrugged and walked away. She was good at hiding. “What are they?”
“Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras.”
Nyx looked up at the snowy mountain, its peak hidden above the clouds. She grabbed her pack and tightened the laces on her boots. They set out immediately, climbing the steep incline of the mountain range. Nearly to the top, there was a grunt from behind Nyx and she turned to see Frodo tumbling down the hill.
“Frodo!” Gandalf called, unable to do anything but watch him roll down the slope of the mountain. Thankfully, Aragorn stopped him before he could roll too far and immediately Frodo reached for his chest. The Ring was gone. He spotted it just as Boromir did, lifting it up by the chain and holding it closely to his face.
“Boromir,” Aragorn said softly. The man either did not listen to him or did not hear him.
“It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing… Such a little thing.” He reached up to touch it. Aragorn called his name again, this time firmer. The man heard him this time.
“Give the Ring to Frodo.”
Nyx watched from beside Gandalf as he reluctantly returned the Ring to Frodo and ruffled his hair. She turned to the wizard. “I do not like the way he looks at the Ring. And I especially don’t like the way he looks at Frodo.”
Gandalf clenched his jaw, shifting his weight. “Neither do I, my dear. Neither do I.”
Part 1.10 ➺
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Top 5 LOTR moments?
Ooh, goody!
1) The moment with Frodo and Sam and Gollum on the step of Cirith Ungol. There’s so much beautiful in it - the way they talk about stories to give themselves hope, they way they encourage and praise each other (and Sam thinks he’s being teased because he doesn’t recognize his own value), the way Gollum comes back and looks at Frodo and almost repents, the switch vetween the description of how he looks when he comes back (like an old, tired hobbit) and how he looks after Sam yells at him, the way the scene at once encapsulates Sam’s greatest virtues and greatest weaknesses as a person, the way it contains so many of the core themes of The Lord of the Rings.
2) The confrontation between Eowyn and the Witch-king. Absolutely, perfect, epic dialogue. I’ve practically memorized it. I adore good epic dialogue (and good epic monologue, for that matter). The way I can hear each character’s voice in my head! Typing from memory, may be some errors:
Begone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!
Come not between the Nazgul and his prey! Or he will not slay ther in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all knowledge, where thy flesh shall be devoured and thy shruvilled mind be left open to the Lidless Eye.
Do what you will; but I will hinder it, if I may.
Thou fool. No living man can hinder me.
But no living man am I! Eowyn I am, Eomund’s daughter, and you stand between me and my lord and kin! Begone if you be not deathless; for living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.
And the line Still she did not blench, maiden of the Rohirrim, child of king, slender but as a steel-blade, fair yet terrible. “Slender but as a steel-blade” - I love that! The Battle of the Pelennor Fields has some of Tolkien’s greatest epic writing, and this is one of the greatest moments among it. Gandalf’s confrontation with the Witch-king and the description of the charge of the Rohirrim are others.
3) Following up on my enthusiasm for good epic dialogue: the Voice of Saruman. I regularly read this chapter aloud to myself on rereads of the book. It may be my single favourite chapter. I was so looking forward to Christopher Lee doing this in the movies - perfect actor for it - and so dusappointed when we didn’t get it (even the deleted scene doesn’t quite hit the mark) and so delighted when I discovered the BBC audio drama on YouTube because it does the scene perfectly.
The power of the words (both by Saruman and against him)! Bluntness marshalled against eloquence! The shifting goals and tones of Saruman’s addresses! The description of the power of his words in his listeners’ minds! The excellence of defiance! I love, love, love it.
4) Faramir and Eowyn; I’m cheating because this is multiple moments but I’m combining them into one. The transition from despair and war for war’s sake to healing and hope is so central to Tolkien’s themes and makes the romance beautiful to me, and the descriptions and the conversations between them are so beautuful.
5) The hobbits’ snark during the Scouring of the Shire narrowly beats out the Bridge of Khazad-dûm for fifth place. “Calling Your Chief Names, Wishing to Punch His Pimply Face, and Thinking You Shiriffs Look a Lot of Tom-Fools”!
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second thoughts (legolas x reader)
The Fellowship of the Ring - Part 3
masterlist
warnings: fighting, character death
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5
a/n : part 3!!! i have so much fun writing this story and im so glad that i get to continue writing these chapters for you guys. thank you so much to everyone who is reading and showing support, it honestly means so much to me you have no idea. anyway, without further ado, here’s chapter 3! i hope you enjoy<3
“Are we lost?”
“No.”
“I think we are.”
“Shh! Gandalf’s thinking.”
“Merry?”
“What?”
“I’m hungry.” Pippin and Merry whispered between each other. They were sat opposite each other, their voices flowing through the space. Sam was sat up against one of the rocks near Frodo. Gandalf had perched himself upon a rock. He lifted a pipe to and from his lips, blowing out smoke when necessary. You were sat beside Boromir, who was beside Aragorn. Legolas was stood, his back leaned against rock, close to Aragorn.
“I miss home.” You mentioned. Boromir smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you gently into his side.
“After the journey, we will return. We will drink and feast and celebrate. And everything will go back to normal.” He assured and you gave a small smile. Though, you were unsure of whether you wanted that to be your reality when you were to finish the journey. You had quite enjoyed the thought of travelling with Aragorn and then when his time had come… Well, you had not thought that far just yet. Anyway, this was all hypothetical, of course, as it had much started to dawn on you that you might not get the chance to return. Luck had been on your side thus far but for how long would it continue to come to your aid?
Legolas noticed the worried look that fell over your features and his brows drew together, wishing that he could read your mind to know what troubled you. He was about to pull you to the side to ask how you were when Gandalf let out a loud noise.
“It’s that way.” He pointed with his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he looked at Frodo who was sat beside him.
“He’s remembered!” Merry said with a grin, pulling the pipe from his lips. He pushed himself to his feet.
Gandalf stood with the aid of his staff. “No, but the air doesn’t smell so foul down here. If in doubt, young Meriadoc, always follow your nose.” He led the way, holding his staff up so that the light exuding from it would reveal more of the path. Legolas held back to walk with you. You smiled at him and he returned it. Each member of the Fellowship stepped down the decreasing concrete.
“Let me risk a little more light.” Gandalf muttered. His staff brightened the way. “Behold, the great realm, the dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf.”
Your lips parted almost immediately in awe, breath drawing from your throat. There were pillars hundreds of feet tall, all so intricately designed and decorated. Somehow amongst the darkness all of the stone seemed to turn from a dull grey to a shimmering silver. Dips and grooves were so perfectly sculpted that it seemed surreal.
“Well, there’s an eyeopener, make no mistake.” Sam said. His eyes were glistening with wonder as well as everyone else’s.
“It’s beautiful.” You whispered. It seemed as if the words were forced from your mouth. There was so much beauty and brilliance in the world that you had yet to see; the sort of the thing that excited you.
It did not excite you for long, however. Once you had been walking for a while again, Gimli paused. His eyes quickly scanned over skeletons leading to a room. He took an audible breath, running into the room. Your eyes widened and you quickly followed him. Your heart ached at the sight of him. His face was stained with more tears, his eyes flooded. His wails were unforgettable. A series of sobs left his lips, his chest heaving up and down as you gently placed a hand on his shoulder. You could feel tears begin to pool in yours eyes. You had not noticed that the others had joined you until the sound of extra footsteps echoed off of the walls.
“Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.” The wizard took a breath. You moved away from Gimli, standing beside Legolas with a small sniffle. “He is dead, then. It is as I feared.” He handed his things to Pippin, delicately moving a skeleton to pick up a dusty book that it had been holding, once. A shiver ran all the way up your spine, your skin prickling in goosebumps. You snapped your head around to look through the door behind you, anxiety growing within your frame.
“I have a bad feeling about this place.” You hissed into the elf’s ear and he nodded, leaning into Aragorn’s ear slightly.
“We must move on. We cannot linger.”
Gandalf turned the page. “They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums. Drums in the deep.” He turned the page. “We cannot get out. Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming—”
Suddenly a loud noise captivated the attention of everybody. The noise came from beside Pippin, who was stood looking extremely guilty beside a headless body. Before you knew it, the body fell flimsily down the hole beside it and the weight that it was attached to quickly followed. If you wanted not to be noticed then perhaps bringing Pippin along was not the right idea, for the noises echoed loudly around the space. After a little while of silence, Boromir let out an audible breath of relief.
“Fool of a took!” Gandalf snapped, tossing the book to the floor. “Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity.” He snatched back his staff and hat and Pippin looked to the floor.
There was a faint bang in the distance. If anyone’s eyes had wondered, they were now firmly back on the hobbit. Breathing was audible from everyone in the room. You looked worriedly at Boromir, he, too, looked anxious. Your breath quickened, turning around to face the door but turning back when Sam spoke.
“Mister Frodo…” At his words, Frodo pulled out his sword which was glowing blue. Your eyes widened at the sight. He had told you before that his Uncle Bilbo had gifted it to him before he left Rivendell. It glowed blue if there were—
“Orcs.” Legolas confirmed at the overwhelming sound of energetic screams and shouts. Boromir turned, running to the door.
“Boromir!” You warned, gasping sharply when two arrows landed not even an inch away from his face, protruding out from the door. Sprinting to him, you helped him shove the door closed. You could make out Aragorn saying something to the hobbits over the vicious pumping of your heart. Instinctively you turned your back to the door, holding it shut whilst Legolas threw an axe to you. It threaded through the handle of the door kindly and you stepped away from the door slowly, pulling out your knives. The door began to wave outwards and inwards, like it was victim to an angry storm. Weapons were cutting through the wood at speed and soon enough the doors caved to the Orcs’ will. They came flooding through the space like they were on a water current. Legolas and Aragorn shot their arrows but there were too many. They continued to pour through until they reached you.
With a roar, you brought your knife up to counter a sword, plunging your other into the face of your attacker. You dodged an oncoming axe, dropping the floor to swipe its legs before heaving its own weapon into its chest. Swiftly you sliced through the flesh of one’s neck, spinning to punch another before you stabbed it in the heart; if they had hearts, that is, you did not really know. Your fingers tightened around the hilts of your knives, searching around. You quickly sheathed your knives, picking up an axe from one of those that you just killed. As you made for one about to attack Boromir from behind, you swung the axe over your head, burying it deep inside its skull. The body fell to its knees and you struggled to pull the weapon out, forcefully kicking the body to release the axe. Shouting, swinging at one’s knees before slicing its head clean from its body.
You shielded your face as rocks came flying from where the door was once. Sheer horror smacked you in the face at the sight of a cave troll. It had chains around its neck and a huge mallet in its hand. It came bounding right up to Sam after Legolas shot an arrow into the centre of its chest.
“Sam!” You cried, breathing as he managed to crawl out of the way. When you turned around, an Orc landed a punch straight to your nose. You fell, startled, wincing slightly at the pain. Your eyes widened as it swung its axe towards your head. With barely inches between you and the blade, you managed to roll out of the way. Suddenly the Orc let out a cry of pain, and you used the opportunity to ram your knives into each of its legs before pulling one out and driving it into its chest. When it fell to the floor, you managed to take a quick glance at the body. There was an arrow sticking out of the fleshy part of the side. A small smile tugged on your lips amongst the madness, your eyes searching.
Your smile faded when your gaze landed on Legolas. The troll swung its chain at him with ferocity, causing rocks to fall from the pillars and the walls.
“Legolas!” You screamed his name, tears in your eyes. He managed to swerve from all of the troll’s attacks. You did not see much of what happened next, for the number of Orcs seemed to increase again, but you cut down all of the Orcs that came your way with much frustration, the tears of worry in your eyes turning to those of anger.
When you next got a chance to look at the troll, it was attacking Frodo, Merry and Pippin. You began to make your way towards them, lunging at each creature that came to attack you, carving into their skin as if they were meat for dinner. The cave troll grabbed Frodo by his foot, and you called to him, raising the aggressiveness of your attacks unintentionally, frustration consuming your entire body. Frodo managed to slice something from the hand of the troll, giving Aragorn the chance to stick a spear just under its breast. It smacked Aragorn to the side and he hit a rock before his body tumbled lifelessly to the floor. Frodo desperately tried to run around the troll but to no avail. The troll pushed the spear into the hobbits chest.
A sob was forced from your throat, your chest heaving for breath. Merry and Pippin jumped on the troll, stabbing at its neck relentlessly. It managed to shake Merry off, dropping him to the floor from a height. Gimli ran at it, attempting to smack it with his axe but got kicked to the side. As you screamed, your knives tore and shredded through its thick skin. You swung an axe from the ground up to land firmly in the back of it. Legolas drew an arrow, aiming carefully before shooting it. The arrow buried itself in its mouth. It let out a noise. Then it fell to the ground, spreading the dust over the other bodies that lay there.
It took you no time at all to run to where Frodo’s and Aragorn’s bodies were. A few tears fell down your cheeks while you sprinted. You sighed in relief to see Aragorn crawling toward the hobbits body, but you frowned, noticing that Frodo still had not moved. The lump in your throat grew. Your breathing felt restricted, a small sob falling from your lips. Aragorn rolled Frodo’s body over into his lap.
A series of groans came from the mouth of the hobbit and your eyes widened, thinking that your ears had deceived you. The hobbit was stabbed, surely, he was dead! But Sam ran to your side, taking a deep breath before he looked to the rest of the Fellowship.
“He’s alive.” He confirmed. Everyone seemed to breathe at that.
“I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” Said Frodo, clutching his chest.
You smiled. “But how?”
“I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye,” Gandalf suggested with a knowing look. When you looked back towards Frodo, he pulled the fabric of his undershirt down, revealing a glimmering white chainmail material.
“Mithril.” Gimli whispered, a smile on his face. “You are full of surprises, Master Baggins.” Y stood, laughing breathily before turning to those behind you. Your gaze landed on Boromir and you smiled, wiping a bit of blood from his cheek comically. He chuckled, engulfing you in a hug. He gently pressed his lips to your to the top of your head and you smiled. Boromir left you to check on Merry and Pippin and you turned to Legolas, smiling.
“I was worried for you, mellon nin.” You avoided his gaze.
“And I for you.” He said. You could hear the smile on his face when he spoke, and your smile widened. You were about to say something else when more manic screams and shouts were heard, identical to the ones that were heard before the Orcs attacked you. Your eyes widened, turning to Gandalf.
“To the bridge of Khazad-Dum.”
And with that the Fellowship took off down the stony halls of Moria. You were all sprinting at full speed. It was a little surprising that the hobbits could keep up, but they had proven many times by now that they could hold their own and should never be underestimated. Screams echoed behind you and you turned to look, slowing when you noticed how many Orcs there were. This was a battle you were destined to lose. Fingers wrapped firmly around your wrist and you snapped your head forward again to see Boromir holding to you with one of his arms, pulling you along. Orcs started to pop up out of the floor and crawl down from the ceiling and quite quickly it was easy to see that there were way too many of them to even fathom fighting. The Fellowship slowed to a stop and you created a circle, pulling your knives from their sheaths and staring down the Orcs that surrounded you. The circle seemed to get smaller and smaller and soon you were shoulder to shoulder with Legolas and Boromir. The Orcs smiled maniacally at you. You took a sharp breath, ready to lunge at them when a very loud rumbling noise came from the end of the corridor.
Immediately, the Orcs turned frail, squeaking with fear and soon they scattered off just as quickly as they had appeared. You were alone again. The noise reverberated through the halls.
“What is that?” Somehow you had the nerve to ask the question.
“A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world.” You watched Legolas’ eyes widen slightly at the wizard’s words and you swallowed dryly. “This foe is beyond any of you. Run!”
Gandalf made for the opening that you had all meant to go down originally, the rest of you darting to the end of the hall to keep up with him. He stopped at the open archway, allowing the others in front of him. You ran just behind Legolas and Boromir was now leading the way. He moved down the newly presented set of stairs, not noticing the empty chasm that lay before his feet. He wobbled on the very edge, dropping his torch down the space as Legolas lunged forward, wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him back.
Behind you, Gandalf clutched hold of Aragorn’s shoulder. “Lead them on, Aragorn. The bridge is near.” When Aragorn tried to help him, he pushed on his shoulder, forcing him away. “Do as I say! Swords are no more use here.” You raced down the numerous flights of stone stairs until you came to a halt. A part of the staircase was missing. Legolas jumped over it carelessly, landing perfectly on the other side. He held his hand out to you. You took a breath before leaping over the disparity, grabbing his hand tightly as he safely pulled you into his chest.
“Gandalf.” He gestured for the wizard to come next. Gandalf jumped and you gasped as an arrow missed your face by just a few inches. Legolas frowned, aiming and shooting, his arrow hitting the Orc archer right between the eyes. You ushered Boromir down and he nodded, grabbing Merry and Pippin before diving over the gaping chasm. You caught Merry in your arms, setting him down with a head pat before Aragorn tossed Sam to you. Catching him, you gently set him down beside Merry whilst Legolas dealt with Gimli. Once Gimli joined you, however, the rock that Frodo and Aragorn were still perched on began to crumble. You gasped, squeezing Boromir’s hand in anxiety as you watched. A huge roar echoed from where you had just come from, causing the archway to shake and break. A large piece of stone plunged from the ceiling, crashing down onto the very staircase that the man and the hobbit were situated on. Your heart stuttered as the rock destroyed what was in its way, falling into the abyss below. The stem of the staircase broke.
“Be careful!” You cried, biting your lip so hard it pooled with blood. Aragorn pulled a very terrified Frodo into his chest. You watched with complete anxiety yet confusion; you could see that the man was calculating something.
“Lean forward!” He instructed to the Ring-Bearer and as the two did so, the faulty staircase began to lean under their weight. Slowly, it moved towards the stable one, crashing into it and you let out a breath with Frodo in your arms. All you wanted was to sit and hug him and make sure that he knew everything was going to be alright – even though you weren’t entirely sure it would be – but you knew that could not happen. Legolas had safely caught Aragorn and the next thing you knew, the ten of you were rapidly rushing down the numerous flights of trembling stairs.
Eventually you got to flat ground but none of you stopped running. Your thoughts wandered to Gandalf, wondering if it was wise that he should be running like this, for it seemed he was far too tired even earlier.
The bridge was near. “Over the bridge! Fly!” Little attention was paid to the roaring fires acting as gates toward it. Whilst everyone ran, Gandalf made sure to lack behind and just as he turned around, slowly, a giant creature emerged from the fire. It had black tattered skin and horns, terrible teeth and bright white eyes. Its mouth opened, and it created sound unlike any other on Middle-Earth, its mouth mirroring hot embers. Gandalf turned once it had taken a step, fleeing towards the group of you who also began to scurry away from the creature. You sprinted, heart jolting each time you heard – and felt – the Balrog take a step. In single file, ushering the hobbits in front of you, you crossed the bridge. Boromir held you for a moment once you had crossed, making sure that you were alright before he let go, eyes widening at the sight of Gandalf still in the centre of the bridge.
“You cannot pass.” Gandalf yelled, facing the beast with his staff out in front of him, his long sword settled in his other hand.
“Gandalf!” Frodo screamed. You inhaled sharply, eyes filling with tears in worry. Aragorn squeezed your hand gently as the beast stood tall, erupting into a ball of flame.
“I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!” A great light emitted from Gandalf’s staff when he held it up, but the Balrog created a weapon of his own. A flash of lightning spewed from the connection of Gandalf’s staff and the Balrog’s sword of flame. You grasped Aragorn’s hand tighter, feeling all of the moisture from your mouth dissipate. The sword melted down into the abyss and the creature moaned ferociously at the wizard once again. “Go back to the shadow.” He said behind hooded eyes. It stepped toward him, creating a fiery whip which he cracked against the stone.
“You shall not pass!” As his voice echoed, Gandalf thrust his staff into the stone, white sparks flying from the collision. The beast raised his arm, stepping mightily towards to wizard, but the stone crumbled under its weight. He plummeted into the abyss. You let out a breath you did not know you were holding. Gandalf turned to step towards you.
However, as he did so, an orange-yellow string secured itself around his ankle, pulling him across the stone until he barely hung from the edge.
You gasped, shaking your head incredulously. “No…” Frodo ran for him. Boromir grabbed him, holding him close before he could reach. Your eyes were wide with anguish, Frodo’s screams painfully ringing in your ears.
“Gandalf!”
He looked amongst you. “Fly, you fools.” Was all he said before he spread his fingers out, giving in, and he fell. Tears pooled in your eyes, an aching sensation pounding in your chest, throughout your entire body. A few choked sobs escaped you whilst Aragorn, still latched to your hand, pulled you along, shielding you from the many arrows that were being shot your way. The final set of steps lay in front of you, and as Aragorn gently dragged you along, you found yourself looking back, filled with a sorrow that everyone was experiencing.
Upon exiting Moria, you found that Boromir was holding back Gimli, from going in there and no doubt trying to murder the Balrog that had taken Gandalf. Sam was sat on his own, crying into his hand. Pippin was sprawled out on the floor in pain, Merry holding onto him, both of them with tears gushing down their faces. If your heart was not already broken from the loss, it certainly was shattered now from the melancholy faces that lay before you. Slowly, you made your way over to Sam, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder as you knelt beside him. He looked up and threw his arms around your body, sobbing silently into your shoulder. You closed your eyes, tears streaming, hugging him as tightly while he clung to you.
Legolas looked around, it seemed as if for the first time that he was unsure of what to do. His chest ached, even harder when his eyes landed upon you, and how you quickly swiped your tears away before talking to Sam, wanting to be strong for him and the other hobbits.
Aragorn cleaned his sword with his clothes. “Legolas, get them up.” He came close to you and Sam and you shook your head gently.
“Leave them.” You sniffed.
“Give them a moment, for pity’s sake!”
“By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the Woods of Lothlorien. Come Boromir. Y/N, Legolas, Gimli, get them up.” Aragorn pulled Sam up from the floor. “On your feet.” Boromir made his over to you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder. You smiled weakly at him, and he kissed your temple softly. “Frodo?” You heard Aragorn call, your eyes wandering to try to find the hobbit. Once you had found him, you sighed.
“It is hardly fair, that they do not get a chance to lament.”
“I know, but Aragorn is right. We must hurry to avoid the Orcs and another potential loss.” You nodded and Boromir’s words, hugging into his side, your eyes never leaving Frodo.
~~~
You had all been walking for a long while, but it was still light. You had been walking beside Aragorn, listening to him talk away about where we going and then after that and after that. It was not until he mentioned again where you were going now, that a faint memory flooded into your head. Your brows furrowed together whilst you tried to remember the details of the memory.
“What is it, Y/N?” Aragorn asked, concerned.
“Lothlorien. It sounds familiar.” You gave him a knowing look and his eyes widened, only slightly, in surprise. You both knew what that could mean. Legolas, however, did not, but he wanted to. He felt awful for eavesdropping yet again, but you intrigued him more than one ever had before, and his curiousness was getting the better of him.
Aragorn started to jog toward the forest, and you joined him, stopping once you were inside. Your eyes widened when you looked around, your breathing staggering only slightly, your heart thumping in your chest.
“Aragorn,” you whispered. “I have been here before.”
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#lord of the rings#lord of the rings fic#lotr#lotr fic#legolas#legolas greenleaf#legolas thranduilion#legolas x reader#legolas x you#legolas x y/n#legolas x#legolas x oc#my writing#reader insert#the hobbit#lotr legolas#lotr frodo#lotr gimli#lotr aragorn#gimli#frodo#aragorn#x reader#second thoughts fic#second thoughts#legolas x reader fic#second thoughts legolas x reader fic#legolas oneshot#legolas imagine
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Assorted thoughts from reading today
Three Is Company
Frodo is as slow to get out the door as my family is. Fixing to start to prepare to get ready to go.
Frodo really left the dirty dishes for Lobelia to clean up like “<3”
The presence of the Black Riders dogging the hobbits’ footsteps is terrifying. The mystery of who and what they are and the dread of where they’ll be next is like a suspense thriller.
Tolkien randomly switches into the POV of a fox that found Frodo, Sam, and Pippin asleep outside and that’s just delightfully storybookish and random and I love it.
Frodo recites poetry ALL. THE. TIME. What a NERD.
The descriptions of the different locales of the Shire is so very detailed and beautiful that you feel like you’re really there, walking along with the hobbits. Nearly every paragraph could be its own painting.
Dang, I remembered that Frodo & Co. ran into elves pretty early on in the journey, but I’d forgotten they were STILL IN THE SHIRE when it happened!
Frodo impressing the elves with his knowledge of High Speech was one of my favorite moments from the book and still is. Nerd appreciation.
Okay the elven wood-hall was definitely my secret inspiration for many details of my own fantasy world as a kid, rediscovering it feels so weird, what the heck—
FINROD. ELVES OF THE HOUSE OF FINROD. MENELVAGOR IS THE CONSTELLATION THAT REPRESENTS TURIN. I KNOW WHO ALL THESE PEOPLE ARE NOW. AAAAAAHHHHHHHH
A Short Cut to Mushrooms
The thought of Frodo stealing mushrooms from Farmer Maggot as a kid is so funny to me now. He really was a rascal.
If I were any better at drawing dogs I’d draw Farmer Maggot’s dog Wolf growling in Frodo’s face. Even a normal-sized pit bull would be enormous to hobbits.
Mrs. Maggot packing Frodo some mushrooms in a basket has the same energy as all the passive-aggressive gifts Bilbo left his relatives. Do hobbits just regularly diss each other with presents or is everyone in this story just a huge bundle of sass?
Remind me to do that text post about which members of the Fellowship could hold their own in a conversation with hobbits about mushrooms…
A Conspiracy Unmasked
BRO GOLLUM GOT INTO THE SHIRE. WHAT. He doesn’t get close to the hobbits because of the water but DANG he found them quick.
Frodo’s new house in Crickhollow is one of those that Tolkien mentions in the forward: not a proper hole in a hill, but a house built to look like one, with a turf roof. I wish I’d paid more attention to that detail as a kid because it gives this clear emotion of “trying to be the real thing, and pleasant in its own way, but just not the same”.
One lovely detail that’s lost in the movie is just how sneakily Frodo’s friends scheme against him (for his good) to figure out what the heck he’s up to and prepare to go with him. In the film, Merry and Pippin just happen to (literally) bump into Frodo and Sam and tag along because it’s fun I guess and they care about Frodo, and that’s lovely in its own way, but the Conspiracy really makes them out to be much smarter and more careful than you’d imagine hobbits to be.
From now on, if I ever have to refer to Merry, Pippin, and Sam as a group, I’m calling them “the Conspirators” or “the Three Musketeers”.
Sam, upon being revealed as the informant: “Yes, sir! Begging your pardon, sir! But Gandalf did say you shouldn’t go alone, and you should take someone you can trust.” Frodo: “But it doesn’t seem I can trust anyone!” Sam: :-C
Ohhhh uh-oh I’d forgotten about what happens to Fatty Bolger. Don’t spoil it for me just yet—I’ll remember when I get there. But uh. 0.0
This line. Get yourself friends like this. Heck, BE a friend like this.
#lord of the rings#lotr#frodo baggins#meriadoc brandybuck#peregrin took#samwise gamgee#my writing#assorted thoughts#long post
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Galadriel’s Question
Summary: Galadriel tests the resolve of the members of the fellowship when she meets them in Lothlórien. Written from Merry’s perspective. All quotes are from the book Fellowship of the Ring and are in italics.
A/N: My first fanfiction. I’ve always been curious about what Galadriel asked of each member of the fellowship since only Sam shared what he experienced under Galadriel’s gaze. I hope this isn’t too cringy.
Words: 1001
“your Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while all the Company is true.” And with that word she beheld each of them with her eyes.
And like a knife her gazed pierced the flesh and just as one removes the rind of the ripened orange, it crept beneath the surface of his skin and he felt his soul all at once bare and naked before her. And under her keen gaze, a jolting unease rose into his heart at the realisation that she was not looking at him but instead through him. Under her eyes, his courage withered and he felt a hot shame rise to his cheeks. Such was the gaze of Galadriel that it was like to the sun whose arms reach through the firmament to peer deep into the dark hidden fabric of Earth. but whatever dark thought or morbid curiosity she saw in his soul did not cross her eyes in bitterness and Merry found the devices of her own mind shut from him.
And in the questioning disquiet in the fields of his own mind, there rose her voice, rolling and mellow and beautiful with the richness of years beyond that of the short history of hobbits and men. In song it rose and fell like the choirs of the seas wavering and quivering in stillness at times and yet always powerful and compelling beneath its surface, and yet there were no words in any tongue spoken aloud or in his mind by her.
But despite this an understanding came to Merry and though no question was asked of him, he knew that an ultimatum was placed before him with which he must choose: to continue with the Ring or to return home. Home. It was home he desired most, to return to the loving arms of his mother and father, the warmth of the hearth, his armchair by the spitting fire where the troubles of the outside world were distant and untouchable as the scattered stars, greater than the simple life he led. What part could he possibly play in this great quest in the company of Elves, Men and Dwarves? He felt then as an ant amongst giants – useless, small, and insignificant.
He remembered a simpler time when he did not understand, when the world about him seemed bright and new and beautiful. When the tales of Bilbo at the Yule festivities in Brandy Hall filled him with the glamour and glory of adventure until his heart was overfilled with half-imaginings of his own fancy. When death was something told in stories that spent themselves in a world other than his own, something that could not reach him. He recalled then a summers day by the Brandywine River spent picnicking when he asked tentatively at the shy age of four why he had to call Frodo ‘cousin’ and not ‘brother’ and poor Frodo, not having the heart to explain turned away from him for the first time. Then, death seemed like a faraway trivial thing. Even now, he was not sure he would ever understand death, only the suffering of loss and grief that came with it, stuttering through the mind with unease.
The vision of home embraced him so viciously that he was at once at the mercy of the crushing weight of mountains upon his shoulders. But even so Merry could remember a time when he was but a boy of eight in the Great Smials of Westfarthing when he cradled baby Pippin in his arms for the first time, his hair crowned with wisps of gold as the sun through the morning mist in the wintertime.
From the first moment Pippin grinned up at him, Merry knew he loved him and would forever love him, for he saw within him the beauty of life and the many dreams of his younger cousin that were yet to be. And so they have been ever since, almost inseparable whenever they visited each other. He was lucky to be surrounded by the people he loved and who in turn loved him, for when Frodo was gone, he still had Pippin and always by his side were Esmeralda and Saradoc who taught him much of the world in the Shire and Buckland.
Morbidly, Merry realised that if he continued to follow Frodo to the very heart of Mordor, he would likely never return home again. Yet his resolve strengthened like the great horns of bygone cities and it trumpeted above all doubt in answer to Galadriel’s question.
There was no alternative. He could not, in the fearful depths of his heart forsake his cousins and he refused to pale and flee in cowardice if his friends did not. Their fight would be his as well.
‘You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin – to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours – closer than you keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word.’
A great pride and warmth filled him and Merry was content with his answer, and Galadriel, satisfied with what she saw turned away and his mind immediately mourned the loss of her voice within him. But the shame of his thought continued to plague him.
He always longed to see the great mountains and his mind was always outside Buckland, looking ever Eastward toward Bree and beyond. But now that he was on an adventure of his own, his heart ached to only think of strolling upon the lush turf beside the Brandywine as he often had in his youth, the sweet pang of rich Shire earth in his nose.
He retired to his bedroll that night, wearied and as he slept, his heart awoke to the sound of the wrens and finches flitting outside his window at home in Brandy Hall.
#merry brandybuck#galadriel#lothlorien#lotr#lotr fanfic#meriadoc brandybuck#hobbit#lotr elves#frodo#lotr frodo#pippin took#peregrin took#frodo baggins
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