#and aragorn is the most Extra

[tathrin]

A response to this ask; taken from this prompt; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time, I don’t care how long it’s been. (Just maybe add some context to your ask if it’s been like a month or more since I posted this, because otherwise I won’t know what to do with the random number in my inbox).

#28....as a lie.

*technically this one picks up after the end of this story if you want to read that first, although you don’t need to; it’s as much a self-contained snippet as any of the others, it just happens take place in a setting within the events of a specific fic, that’s all.

Gimli’s eyes were drawn ever and again to the elvish dancers, even as he was drawn several times into brief conversations as friends and acquaintances paused at the table he now shared with Gandalf to exchange a few words and toast their well-wishes together for Gondor’s king and queen. Gimli was glad of the toasts, at least, for they brought fresh mugs of cool ale, and the heat of so many cavorting bodies had raised the temperature of the hall to near-dwarven levels, despite the cool white stone and tall windows through which a summer’s breeze still wafted.

Legolas’s hair shone like a sunrise in the rich torchlight, and his eyes gleamed like starlight on pale clouds. Gimli was amazed that anyone could long look elsewhere, with the shine of him whirling there to draw the eye.

He was not amazed that the other elves twirling on the dance floor were drawn to him; of course they were. How could they help but be lured in, dull drab moths circling that golden glow? Long hands ran up and down Legolas’s lithe limbs and pressed against his slender waist, long fingers twined through the streaming locks of his unfettered hair and curled possessively around his braids—

The mug in Gimli’s hands gave a crack and shattered, soft metal collapsing in on itself in his grip. He stared at the mess in his hands, numbly grateful that he had at least drained it already and so there was no ale left to spill out across his lap, and then he hurriedly shoved it onto the table behind him. He could feel his cheeks burning hotter than any torch in the hall.

Gimli chanced a sideways glance at Gandalf, who was watching the dancers with every evidence of placid enjoyment on his old face. Had he seen? Had he heard? He said nothing, but that did not always mean anything with Gandalf. Perhaps Gimli should speak, should craft some excuse...

“Flimsy human metal,” he muttered, and glanced at the wizard again. Gandalf nodded absently, but did not otherwise react.

Gimli let out his breath in relief—and then a second later he nearly choked on it, as Legolas suddenly bounded out of the tumult to perch on the bench beside him. His eyes danced as merrily as any of the revelers and his smile beamed bright and clear upon his beardless face.

“Will you not dance with us, Gimli?” he asked. His voice was light with laughter and with joy and his thin chest heaved from his exertions. Gimli found his eyes drawn upwards to the bare lips above that smooth and hairless chin.

“What?” he said.

“Dance with us, Gimli!” Legolas repeated. “Come, you can teach us dwarven steps and I will show you the ways of elvish revelry up close.”

“No,” Gimli answered automatically, his heart stuttering in his throat. “No, I—I am quite comfortable here, thank you.”

“You do not seem comfortable,” Legolas observed, and Gimli felt his stomach drop like a stone. He could not stop himself from glancing behind him at the ruined mug, even though he knew the gesture was a dead give-away; if Legolas had not seen it before, he surely would now, with Gimli’s gaze to lead him to it like a map—or a swift arrow.

“I am perfectly fine,” Gimli insisted. “Gandalf and I are enjoying the dancing quite well from here, thank you.”

Legolas spared a glance at the unmoving wizard but his eyes soon fixed on Gimli once more. “You are bothered by something,” he said quietly. “I can tell. Will you not tell me what? Perhaps I can help.”

Gimli’s mind stuttered with the possibilities of the help that Legolas might offer, and he quickly shied away from the idea. “No!” he blurted. “No, I—as I said, I am fine. It is merely warm in here.”

Legolas laughed. “Warm!” he cried. “But you are a dwarf!”

“Aye, a dwarf,” said Gimli, “and one who is enjoying his ale from his comfortable seat, and has no need to go whirling about like some flighty elven dandelion!”

Legolas should have laughed; Gimli knew his friend well enough to know that much. He should have laughed, but he did not. Instead his pale eyes narrowed sharp and keen on Gimli’s face, and Gimli could feel himself blushing beneath that tight scrutiny.

“Does it bother you,” Legolas asked in a low voice, “to see me frolicking so with these other elves?”

“What?” Gimli exclaimed. His hands clenched convulsively, and he was glad that he had already broken his mug; had he still been holding it now, he would surely have turned the thing into a flattened disk of over-stressed and useless metal. “Bother me! Of course it does not!”

To prove it, Gimli made himself laugh and shake his head, as though Legolas had spoken some ridiculous jest. He even lifted the elf’s lean brown hand and kissed the smooth knuckles as more evidence of how thoroughly unbothered he was. “Go back to your dancing, Master Elf!” Gimli chortled. “I am doing quite well watching it from afar, thank you!”

Legolas stared at him for another moment, his smooth face unreadable . The tips of his ears were flushed dark red from all of his cavorting and his pale eyed looked very wide with no beard to frame them.

Then he shrugged, and said, “As you like, then!” and squeezed Gimli’s shoulder once before bounding away and throwing himself back into the whirl of the merry elvish dancers.

Gimli let out a shaky breath and flexed his hands a few times, getting the blood-flow back into them.

"Lying will do no good for either of you," Gandalf declared calmly. "And it is hardly fair to Legolas; he will take you at your word, whatever you tell him."

Gimli could feel his cheeks burning hotter, shame coming along to add its kindling to the blaze. He managed to force an unintelligible grumble of disagreement from his lips, but nothing more articulate than that; he felt as though he was already strangling on all the words he would not, could not, say.

"He will," Gandalf insisted. "The elvenking might be able to spot a lie from 300 leagues and skewer it as neatly as his son ever has an enemy with that bow of his, but Thranduil's people are another matter. Lies are not generally told in Mirkwood. It is not a place for dissembling, or oaths, or scheming. The Wood-elves are a simple, honest people. And you are Legolas's friend." Gandalf pulled his eyes away from the dancing and fixed his gaze on Gimli instead. His bushy brows were drawn very low atop them, making his eyes glint like embers in deep shadow. "If you tell him something, he will believe you, Gimli. And you will have none but yourself to blame for the results."

Without waiting for Gimli to muster either the courage or the wits for a response, Gandalf swept to his feet and strode off into the tumult of the party.

Gimli slumped low on his bench and stared miserably at the dancing elves.

Legolas was still so impossibly vibrant and noticeable against the duller backdrop of the others. Gimli's eyes fixed on him at once. He seemed to be moving now with even greater abandon than before, if such a thing were possible.

And if such a thing were not impossible, Gimli would almost have said that Legolas kept glancing back at the table where Gimli sat as well—but he was not, of course, and so Gimli put the thought from his mind.

He had more than enough to think of anyway, when a tall elf of Lórien slid up behind Legolas and snaked her arms across his narrow shoulders, leaning in low to murmur something into his finely-pointed ear.

Legolas laughed and turned to face her, their long lithe arms entwining as close as any dwarven lovers. They swayed and swirled together with the music, and the elf-woman’s hands slid up from Legolas’s shoulders to tangle in his braids. Legolas smiled up at her and said something that Gimli was too far away to hear, but it made her laugh. Then Legolas gave one of her dark braids a gentle tug, and Gimli realized that he was growling low in his throat as though facing down a horde of goblins.

He turned away blindly and reached for his mug, realized that it was both empty and broken, and turned back around just in time to see the elf-woman twirl away into someone else’s arms as another pair of hands took Legolas by his trim waist and plucked him out of the center of the tumult to pull him in close against their long lean body, and—

And it was Haldir, Mahal curse it. Gimli’s mouth went dry, his blood pounding in his ears like drumbeats as the March Warden leaned in close and lowered his mouth to Legolas’s ear, whispering something. He took one of Legolas’s braids in his hand and rubbed his thumb across the heavy golden strands, like a dwarf might test a metal for its quality. Haldir was hardly dancing; only swaying a little as he stared down at Legolas, who stood balanced before him on his toes like a bird paused on the edge of flight.

Gimli was on his feet before he realized it, about to start forward and—and what?

His hand was at his belt, which was empty of course; a wedding was no place for weapons. And why was he reaching for his axe, anyway? He sat back down on the bench with a heavy, hollow thump. What was he thinking? What was he doing?

He had had too much ale, clearly. It was the only explanation for his strange behavior tonight. His throat was dry, but he would not drink anymore tonight; he had drunk too much already, clearly, and it was clouding his thoughts. Making him think strange, impossible things. Making him dream things that—that were not, that could never...!

Legolas laughed and rose up onto his toes to press a light kiss to Haldir’s lips.

His head reeling, Gimli watched as the March Warden took Legolas by the hand and led him, smiling, towards the door. If Gimli thought that Legolas paused on the threshold and looked back, somehow finding Gimli’s eyes across the crowded room and glancing at him hesitatingly, questioningly, even hopefully—well, then that was just another sign that he had reached the night’s limit for ale; reached, and more than passed.

Gimli held himself very still, schooling his expression to a placid calmness that might have rivaled Gandalf’s, and then he forced a smile and a nod—just in case Legolas was really looking; just in case he could really see him.

A shadow seemed to flicker across those bright elvish eyes, as though one of the torches near the door was on the verge of guttering; although when Gimli looked at them, they both appeared to be burning tall and strong still.

When he looked back, there was only a faint fading flicker of golden locks flowing around the corner as Legolas vanished into the night and Haldir’s arms.

Gimli sat there for several minutes, staring into the empty darkness of the door. The noise of the wedding revels that had once filled the hall with such bright merriment seemed to have faded now, somehow; he heard it from a distance, like echoes from some far-off cave. Eventually he forced himself to rise, and murmur unintelligible farewells as he passed his friends, and trudge his way across the long white hall towards the other door.

He stumbled back to the rooms the Fellowship shared, alone.

#this was supposed to be a little more silly and slapstick than it ended up being oops #sorry? and/or enjoy the angsty dwarf i guess #this isn't necessarily the ''canon'' ending to that fic btw #so i'm not going to be adding it on to the story #it's just...where this snippet happened in my head when i started writing idk #i promise to try and keep most of these totally stand-along moments #rather than things that you need to read other stories or know the context of specific aus for #anyway that one's pretty canon-based too; it's just aragorn and arwen's wedding #it just has some extra set-up before it if you want to read more scene-setting that's all #gimleaf #gigolas #send a kiss meme #my writing #my stuff #gimli #legolas #haldir #legolas x haldir

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Someone asked me to expand a little on a topic that was buried down in a big chain of reblogs, so I'm doing that here--it's about the use of the archaic "thee", "thou", "thy", etc. in LOTR and what it tells you about characters’ feelings for one another. (I am NOT an expert on this, so it's just what I've picked up over time!)

Like many (most?) modern English speakers, I grew up thinking of those old forms of 2nd person address as being extra formal. I think that's because my main exposure to them was in the Bible ("thou shall not...") and why wouldn't god, speaking as the ultimate authority, be using the most formal, official voice? But it turns out that for a huge chunk of the history of the English language, "thee," "thou," and "thy" were actually the informal/casual alternatives to the formal "you", “your”, “yours”. Like tú v. usted in Spanish!

With that in mind, Tolkien was very intentional about when he peppered in a "thee" or a "thou" in his dialogue. It only happens a handful of times. Most of those are when a jerk is trying to make clear that someone else is beneath them by treating them informally. Denethor "thou"s Gandalf when he’s pissed at him. The Witch King calls Éowyn "thee" to cut her down verbally before he cuts her down physically. And the Mouth of Sauron calls Aragorn and Gandalf "thou" as a way to show them that he has the upper hand. (Big oops by all 3 of these guys!)

The other times are the opposite--it's when someone starts to use the informal/casual form as a way to show their feeling of affection for someone else. Galadriel goes with the formal "you" all through the company's days in Lórien, but by the time they leave she has really taken them to heart. So when she sends them a message via Gandalf early in the Two Towers, she uses "thee" and "thou" in her words to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli because now they're valued friends and allies. And--this is the big one, folks, that was already alluded to in my previous post--Éowyn starts aggressively "thou"ing Aragorn when she is begging him to take her along as he prepares to ride out of Dunharrow. She is very intentionally trying to communicate her feelings to him in her choice of pronoun--an "I wouldn't be calling you "thee" if I didn't love you" kind of thing. And he is just as intentionally using "you" in every single one of his responses in order to gently establish a boundary with her without having to state outright that he doesn't reciprocate her feelings. It's not until much later when her engagement to Faramir is announced that Aragorn finally busts out "I have wished thee joy ever since I first saw thee". Because now it is safe to acknowledge a relationship of closeness and familiarity with her without the risk that it will be misinterpreted. He absolutely wants to have that close, familiar relationship, but he saved it for when he knew she could accept it on his terms without getting hurt.

So, you know, like all things language-based...Tolkien made very purposeful decisions in his word choices down to a bonkers level of detail. I didn’t know about this pronoun thing until I was a whole ass adult, but that’s the joy of dealing with Tolkien. I still discover new things like this almost every time I re-read.

#lord of the rings #lotr #tolkien #aragorn #éowyn #word nerd #respect and disrespect by choice of pronoun #thee and thou vs you #aragorn found the absolute most passive way to say ‘not interested’

[ecle-c-tic]

Middle Earth Asks

🥔 po-tay-toes: one of the hobbits invited you for a meal; who are dining with? Which of the seven meals are you enjoying?

🍞 lembas bread: what's the best road trip snack?

🌾farmer maggot's field: what is your favourite plant? Do you enjoying gardening?

🌼 simbelmynë: You've got the opportunity to bring one character back to life, who is it?

🍃 leaves of lórien: what gift would you most like to receive?

📽 action!: rank all six of the films (or three if you're a hater)

🚲 bicycle basket: what is your favourite middle earth meme?

🌟starlight: you're allowed to live in one of the Elf Kingdoms of Middle Earth, which one are you picking?

💀 Hey, did you know-: What is your favourite piece of behind the scenes trivia?

🌙 moon runes: which of Tolkien's languages would you most like to speak?

🧂 best salt in all the shire: which small joys do you most look forward to? (particular tea, using a perfume, rereading a book, etc.)

✂ cutting room floor: of all of the things that didn't quite make it into the movies, what would you have most liked to see?

☕ may I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?: What is your favourite hot beverage?

🐎 bill the pony: who is the best mount in all of middle earth?

🌳 fangorn forest: Which of Tolkien's creechurs is your favourite?

🔮 palantír: you've found a palantir! Who are you hitting up in middle earth? What are you telling them?

⏳ time and age: which poorly aged scene from LOTR is your favourite?

✨ evenstar: Who is your favourite middle earth couple?

🎆 fireworks: you're invited to Bilbo's 111th, what present do you think you'd receive?

🕷 creepy crawlies: which of tolkien's creatures do you think is the most frightening?

💍 my precious: what role do you think you'd play in the fate of the ring?

📜the company of Throin II Oakenshield: who is your favourite dwarf from the company?

🕶 i care not: what common complaint about the movies or novels doesn't bother you?

📢 motivational speech: which film speech do you find most invigorating?

🔥 barbecue: who is the worst antagonist?

🍿 popcorn: list your top 5 supporting characters

🎇 firefly: which (known) deleted scene would you most like to see?

⛏ expedition to Moria: which side character's adventures would you watch a spin-off movie about?

🎞 extra film: is there an extended scene that should have absolutely made it into the theatrical cut? which one and why?

🎵 can you sing, master hobbit?: Which song (from books or movies) is your favourite?

🖋 quill and ink: which of tolkien's themes resonates most strongly with you?

🗝 lost heirloom: which heirloom/object in the films or novels would you like to learn more about?

💿 leitmotifs and orchestras: which of the films songs (Howard Shore or singer) is your favourite?

🍲eowyn's home cooking: which other way could the ring be destroyed? (funny answers only)

🧙‍♂️precisely when he means to: what is your favourite gandalf moment?

⚔ you have my sword: what is your favourite aragorn moment?

🏹 and my bow: what is your favourite legolas moment?

🪓and my axe: what is your favourite gimli moment?

🍄 MUSHROOMS!: what is your favourite moment from the hobbits?

💎 the arkenstone: favourite Thorin and/or company moment?

🧵 spool: list your top five favourite costumes from any of the films.

📕 the red book of westmarch : what is your favourite quote(s)?

💛 family: what is your favourite family moment throughout the novels/films?

👀 the eye of sauron: who are you looking at disrespectfully?

🗺 arda: if you could travel anywhere in middle earth, where would you go?

👑the silver crown: the war is won, the world is saved, the king has been crowned. Who are you partying with at the coronation?

✏ rewrites: here's a pencil, which ONE thing in the novels/films are you changing?

🐺 GROND GROND GROND: which of the battles is your favourite to watch? is there a combat scene in particular that you enjoy?

⚠ fucking buckleberry ferry: from the clip of Dom and Billy discussing the one swear word they could theoretically get by censors, which line would you change?

📚 boxset: how were you first introduced to Middle Earth?

🏔 the misty mountains: the pass is treacherous, which two characters are you taking with you to make it over the mountains?

🌄 the rolling hills of the shire: what is your favourite outdoor activity?

🌋 mount doom: what middle earth take are you throwing into the fire?

⚙ technology: everything is exactly the same but you can give one character a modern invention. Who is it and what are you giving them?

⛵valinor: we're approaching the end of this game, is there a take/opinion you absolutely want to share?

🦅 the eagles: What thing or thought saves the day when it's not going so well?

🦗 weta: you're allowed to take one prop (or the canon useful version) home with you from the set, what are you taking?

☀ when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer: either share a piece of good news or something you're looking forward to.

📖 final chapter: what unanswered questions do you have middle earth?

#lotr #middle earth #the hobbit #tolkien #lord of the rings #ask games #asks #lotr asks #full disclosure i've read the hobbit 5 times and the trilogy once #I haven't started the salmon riot yet #never seen RoP #and i've seen all of the movies (lotr and hobbit) about 1000000 times now :) #chaos mix of MidEarth questions and personal qs #i didn't spell check whoops (its too hot for editing) #i also did the emojis on my laptop so if they don't match well just ignore that #rao's games #rao's asks #this was a fever dream (i wrote the word strongelist a one point) #the worst part about making stuff is walking away from your device afterwards bc I want to constantly refresh my notes 😭

[robsth0r]

Ears Of The Elven (Legolas x Human!Afab!Reader)

A/N: So I had this idea... and I needed to write it out so here it is! I love the sensitive elf ear trope so I of course had to write one too. For the “Afab Reader” that is because there is no mention of gender other than the reader being born female so if you’re transmasc that would work too. Anyways hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut/Lemon (18+), Sex.

Word Count: 1089

Extra: There is some sindarin in this chapter so this is the translation of it; Meleth: Love. Meleth Nin: My Love

Legolas was laying in his bed peacefully slipping away into his dreamland. That was till his eyes snapped open as he felt a finger delicately run over the shell of his ear. A rush of pleasure went through his body and he let a shaky breath out.

"Aragorn wasn't joking." I said, in awe. Legolas and I had been dating for around a year or so and being in this position with me currently holding the most sensitive part of the elves body was something Legolas definitely hadn’t thought would happen. I was sitting next to him keeping a firm yet light grip on his ear.

"Quite sensitive?" I leaned down to whisper into his ear, my warm breath sending sparks up and down his spine causing him to shudder. Legolas raised his eyes to glare at me, his sharp gaze looking directly into my soul. My grin grew wider.

"Let… GO." He growled, trying hard to ignore the feather light finger strokes on his ear and how they were affecting him.

"Hmmm… No." I grinned again, reaching across his head to stroke his left ear. The result left Legolas squirming and breathless. The sight of the extremely horny elf next to me was enough for my heart to skip a couple beats. I wondered how it was to have such sensitive ears.

I continued teasing Legolas's ear lobe before leaning down to press gentle kisses all around his earlobe. Every time my lips touched Legolas's sensitive skin it tingled from head to toe, making goosebumps spread across his arms and legs. His heart rate increased dramatically as I moved lower down his body, kissing him along every inch of the way. When I reached the base of his neck Legolas arched into my touch, letting out a moan. I smiled against his throat and slowly began trailing kisses back up his jawline.

When I got there Legolas opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another groan coming all the way from the back of his throat. I smirked against the side of his face before licking all the way up his long pointy ear, enjoying his gasps and moans.

"Y/n…" Legolas begged, his voice deeper than normally, taking shallow breaths from the pleasure. I hear the warning in his voice but that doesn't stop me. I swing my leg over his chest, securing him under me.

"Gotta say please, Lassy." I chuckled softly and ran my left hand down the side of his torso still keeping my other hand occupied at his ear. I knew the elves didn't like losing control over themselves as it is what elves pride themselves on.

I grinned darkly as my finger reached the tip of Legolas's ear, pinching it lightly earning myself a groan from Legolas. He felt his control snap... thread... by... thread. I hadn't made him lose control even once while we had been together. But if the stories Aragorn had told me about Arwen were anything to go by it could be an interesting night.

I took my hand off of his ear and trailed it down his chest, teasing his waistband. With a flick of my wrist my fingers unfastened it and pulled it over Legolas's hips before slipping his pants down. My hands found his shaft making him twitch. I lowered my head and licked along his length groaning against it and that was enough to make him explode right then and there.

He flung himself up and secured both my hands in a firm grip above my head, him leaning over me.

"If you do that one more time I'm gonna-" He was cut off by a loud moan escaping my throat as I arched my back letting the night shirt I had on fall exposing my breasts. His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated and he lustfully looked down at me.

Before I could react, he thrusted his cock into my warm core repeatedly, kissing and nippling the skin of my breasts. The pleasure was almost overwhelming but just barely, so I grabbed onto Legolas's shoulder to steady myself as I arched my back even more in pleasure. He grunted as he fucked me hard but with pure desire, my pussy fluttering around him.

He reached his hand down and circled my clit, letting small bits of pleasure seep through me. Legolas now kissed my neck, his tongue licking out over my pulse. Legolas’ fingers worked wonders over my clit as he throbbed within me. Legolas took a glance at me and he could see the pleasure trickling into my eyes as he rocked his cock into me.

“Legolas!” I moaned, my head falling back onto the bed. My cunt tightened and wetness flooded around Legolas’ cock.

“Legolas, oh, right there,” I moaned as he fucked into me a bit faster. His thrusts were rough and hard, his nails biting into my thighs gently as he grabbed my legs, spreading me wider so he could get deeper.

Legolas was bringing me so much pleasure that I couldn’t think of any words other than his name. I babbled it, along with a few expletives, about how much I wanted his cock, how I needed him, and eventually, how badly I needed to cum.

Legolas wasn’t far behind me. He wanted to sink himself so deeply into my body that he could never find the way out. Legolas released one of my thighs and pinched my clit. He rubbed it furiously, daring me to cum. His eyes were wild as he stared down at me, beautiful, throaty groans escaping his body.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Show your prince how good you feel. Cum all over my cock, meleth.” Legolas grunted. He tapped my clit quickly, and with a shout of his name, I came all over him. My body writhed with pleasure as whiteness blinded me. His name fell from my lips, and as he heard me cry out for him, Legolas came inside of me. He filled me with his cum, pumping himself slowly inside of me.

I couldn't get enough of Legolas. I never wanted to leave him.

We both collapsed next to each other, panting heavily as our breathing calmed.

"I love you," Legolas groaned, rolling us around to make himself comfortable spooning me, "Please never leave me." The plea was laced with love and longing and I turned around in his arms. I kissed his forehead gently.

"Of course, meleth nin." I whispered, stroking his hair. "I'm never leaving you."

#legolas #legolas x reader #lotr #lotr fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #the hobbit #elf ears #sensitive ears #lord of the rings #sindarin #elf #elvish #reader #reader insert #female reader #afab reader #trans reader #trans male #trans male reader #transmasc #afab gn reader #gn reader #male reader

[fili-urzudel]

Hii! Congrats on 50 followers!!! 💜 for the prompts list thing, could you do like. Any of them with Pippin? also the forehead touch prompt is so cute please I can’t 😭

I don't often have ideas for Pippin, so this was a treat to write! Just for everyone to know, I'm not answering requests in order. This just happened to be the quickest one to write. Since I had my pick of prompts, I decided to do one I didn't think would get much attention. I hope you like it!

10. Piggyback Rides

Warnings: Very brief insecurity

Word Count: 0.7k

Burden - Peregrin Took

Boromir had been your friend ever since he had helped you become a member of the King's—or the Steward's, you supposed—Guard. His perseverance paid off, as you were now one of the most capable guards and most loyal to him. You were honored to be asked to accompany him to the meeting in Rivendell.

That was where you first met the Hobbits. Your first impression was that, well, they were awfully small. You could tell that Boromir shared your concern for their safety. It was difficult to not view them as children, and you wondered how on earth you were going to keep the poor little lads safe when so many things threatened you all. So you resolved to do anything you could to keep them up on their strength and their fighting prowess.

You had an especially soft spot for Peregrin, or Pippin, as he called himself. He was the youngest of the group, and you couldn't help but be especially fond of him and his antics. Gandalf always rolled his eyes when you shot him looks for his poor treatment of the kid, but he always eased up afterward. You supposed that was part of the reason he kept quiet on this particular occasion.

The others, however, did not.

"It's unwise to expend your energy in such a way, mellon nin," Legolas pointed out as you once again readjusted Pippin as he rode on your back.

"Aye, he's right," Gimli agreed. "He's got his own legs, y'know."

"He's tired," you argued. "We've been sword training. Not to mention, his legs are much shorter than ours, you can't expect him to keep up without a little extra help."

"The others seem to be getting on just fine," Aragorn pointed out, but his smile betrayed his thoughts on the matter.

"Well, I'll carry the others as well, if they want," you said stubbornly.

"I'll carry two and you carry two," Boromir said, chuckling but clearly serious.

"That's alright," Frodo interjected.

"I wouldn't be opposed," Merry commented, and Sam bumped him with his elbow. "It's not necessary, though."

You thought it was strange how quiet Pip was on the matter. He was quite the chatterbox, most of the time. Perhaps he was just embarrassed.

"He's fallen asleep," Boromir leaned over to whisper to you, a smile clear in his voice.

"Aw," you cooed, now extra careful to avoid jostling him more than necessary.

"You cannae do that forever, lass," Gimli warned you.

"Ah, but each time I do, I get a little stronger, so perhaps one day I can," you suggested brightly.

"It's a good thing I've practiced for this," you said with glee, teeth chattering as the fellowship traversed the treacherous mountain pass. You and Boromir had stayed true to your word, and Aragorn had joined your little pact. You carried Pippin still, Aragorn carrying Sam and Frodo, one on each arm, and Boromir holding onto Merry.

"You can put me down as soon as you're able," Pippin said suddenly. "You must be getting tired, and I—I can make it on my own."

"Nonsense, little one," you said, the cold making it hard to hold a smile, however much you wanted to. "I could carry you to the ends of the earth under one arm."

"I just don't want to burden you."

You tilted your head down, finding a temporary respite from the wind by setting your forehead against his. "You could never burden me, Pippin.

"I'm just trying to help you do the great things I know you can do." You weren't quite sure what those things were yet, but if there was one thing you learned growing up, it was that a little encouragement never hurt anyone. "But if you want to walk by yourself, I'll set you down as soon as the snow is shallow enough. Unless you have the elven secret to floating atop it?"

Pippin laughed, his wind-bitten cheeks a frosty red. "Not yet, but I'll try to figure it out."

#lotr fanfic #lotr #lotr fandom #lotr headcanons #hobbit x reader #peregrin took x reader #pippin took x reader #pippin x reader #pippin lotr x reader #pippin lotr #peregrin took #platonic lotr #platonic fanfiction

[is-actually-an-emo-hobbit]

LotR Starbucks Orders

so I work at starbucks and I sometimes find it funny to think about, hey what would the fellowship's orders be? (and what kind of customers would they be as well?)

frodo is a chai latte lover all the way. Iced in the summer, hot in the winter, he's a regular and knows the names of the employees at the local starbucks. He always gets it with oat milk. the employees know it by heart. He's one of those customers that's there for hours, working tirelessly. (everyone's clocked him for what he is; a gay writer)

sam is a London fog tea latte kinda guy, with brown sugar syrup and two pumps of vanilla. the only exception is when it's really hot out, that's when he gets either a green tea lemonade or a strawberry açaí lemonade. He tips as generously as he can. He usually stays with Frodo and orders him chocolate croissants because "mr. frodo, you need to eat!" (the employees have bets on whether or not they're together, and if not, when are they going to get their shit together?)

merry needs his coffee frap with extra espresso and a grilled cheese, no matter what time of day. he's usually the one that pays for pippin's drink (he doesn't really care, he's got money to burn.)

pippin only wants his blended strawberry açaí lemonade if someone else is buying. otherwise he will only get cake pops (birthday cake and bumblebee because they're the most fun) and get made fun of by the employees behind his back. one time the hobbits were in a car with Gandalf and pippin had always made him buy his drink in the largest size just to frustrate him. so finally, Gandalf snapped and didn't order pippin's drink, but gave him a pup cup instead. (sam then took it away because pippin tried to snort it on impulse. merry and frodo were laughing too hard to help)

gandalf needs his earl grey with milk and two packets of brown sugar. He knows exactly how much it costs, and will make sure the employee knows when it's over his usual total.

aragorn is a matcha latte lover, and it's always hot. He usually gets the bacon gouda and he always brings Arwen her order. (Arwen mobile orders while Aragorn orders in store)

Arwen gets a flat white and a cheese danish every time.

boromir wants a nitro cold brew in the biggest size fucking possible. (pippin and merry are his roommates and sleep is not an option.)

legolas wants his vanilla bean creme frappe grande, and he's always in some sort of hurry.

gimli likes his coffee hot with two sugars. that's it. he always comes through the drive through. the starbucks workers were surprised when he ordered a creme frappe as well (and then kept ordering it) until one day he came through the drive thru and Legolas was in the passenger seat, his hand tangled with Gimli's.

Bonus; Sauron gets a caramel ribbon crunch with mocha drizzle because he's a material girl.

#lotr headcanons #the fellowship #frodo baggins #frodo x sam #sam Gamgee #merry brandybuck #pippin took #gandalf #aragorn #legolas greenleaf #boromir #legolas x gimli #sauron #lotr

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Dating Aragorn would include...

He's always thought that you were the most beautiful person on the planet even before the two of you got together. He tells you every single day how beautiful you are.

The way he looks at you is just... ugh. So full of awe and love.

He's very protective over you. He would kill for you; he would die ti protect you. If anyone was to dare hurt you, Aragorn would lose all composure and would just see red. He wouldn't stop until the person who hurt you is dead.

The two of you keep your relationship quiet, you just enjoy the privacy, but it's not until you're hurt and he rushes to your side, kissing your temple and holding you that your friends realise that you're actually together.

He's not a fan of PDA, he'd rather keep that for in private, so when you're in public he'll hold your hand briefly, giving it a squeeze and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles before dropping it. Maybe the occasional temple kiss.

In private, he'll kiss all of you for hours.

He'll tell you stories of his travels and adventures to make you fall asleep.

Soft murmurs of 'I love you's when you're in bed together, limbs entangled.

He's never really experienced anything like this before and he tells you very early on that - "If this is something you consider casual or not serious then you should leave now because I am telling you that soon, my love, I will be hopelessly and completely devoted to you and I will be yours for eternity."

He loves the way you smile up at him.

If you didn't already know how to protect yourself, he teaches you some simple yet effective moves to get yourself out of trouble.

He always carries an extra cape for you wherever you go because he knows that you might get cold.

Foreheads pressed against each other's as you're in the depths of pleasure.

He tries to surprise you with small gifts every once in a while; flowers that he's picked, a leather bracelet he made, a book with sketches of you that he'd drawn.

#headcanon prompt #headcanon #prompt #imagine #aragorn imagine #aragorn x reader #aragorn #lotr #lotr imagine #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Out of all the elves, silvans have the largest appetites.

It’s because they’re constantly moving throught the trees, or dancing, or hunting, or fighting. Basically they are outdoors 24/7.

Their appetites grew even larger during the 3rd age because they are constantly holding back sauron, and the extra stress didn’t help.

Other elves can also eat alot, but because they’re also a lot more scholarly, with entertainment preference being singing and such (as opposed to dancing which is the silvan’s main art) means they do eat less than the silvans.

The only ones who can compete are the avari and the elves back during the age of trees before Orome found them.

So imagine:

Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas: *sitting down in a tavern after an adventure*

Aragorn: *ordering more than even most men eat, but still substantially less than his companions*

Elladan: aww, look at our baby brother, ordering little baby portions!

Elrohir: are you sure you can eat all that? Wouldn’t want to have a tummy ache!

Legolas: *orders 1 of everything they have in the tavern, and even 2 portions of some of it*

The twins: .....

Elrohir: are you sure you can eat all that?

Legolas: *eating all his food, never pausing, but not ravenously shoving it down* i’ll be fine. My sisters eat even more than me. But are you sure you can eat all your food? Wouldn’t want anything to go to waste.

Aragorn: HA.

Bonus:

Erestor: our food supply is even more depleted than usual! We need to stock up.

Elrond: strange. It seems that every time Legolas visits our food supply dwindles ridiculously quickly. But he can’t be the cause. There’s no way an elf could eat that much.

#lord of the rings #silmarillion #lotr #the hobbit #lotr elves #thranduil #legolas #mirkwood #greenwood the great #silvans #silvans can and will eat about 8 times as much as a man #and 4 times as much as an elf #they are always running about outside #they are hungry! #this is why they feast so often because they genuinely need to food #gimli: oh the elf only lives off of tree leaves #gimli: i on the other hand need a whole goat to pack enough energy! #legolas: *eats* #the fellowship: standing in awed silence as he easily puts away the same amount of food as all of them combined #the hobbits: *shiny eyes* i challenge you to an eating competition legolas!

[erathene]

A Fool's Hope

Summary: Aragorn has returned to Helm's Deep, which is rushing to prepare for the arrival of Isengard's Uruk army. Unfortunately, recent events take a heavy toll on the future king of Gondor, and you struggle with your own doubts as you try to pick up the pieces.

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: Aragorn x GN!Reader 

Warnings: Whump, loss of consciousness, nausea, Aragorn is Not A Well Man™.

Author's note: It has been years since I've written anything, and real life has been extra busy as I'm now a mum to my 16 month old son. Now I'm starting to get some time back for my own hobbies I've started writing a few fics. Enjoy! 😚

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

Thirty sacks of grain, check.

Fifteen barrels of mead, check. 

Ten crates of carrots and twelve of cabbages, check.

Eight bushels of apples, check. 

The scratch of your quill against parchment could scarcely be heard over the hubbub of activity that was swelling through Helm's Deep. The fortress was in full preparation mode, readying for the battle that was to come. It seemed that every citizen had their own duty to fulfil; whether that be sharpening weapons at the grindstone, filling quivers with arrows or reinforcing the main gate.

Things were a little calmer here amongst the supplies and foodstuffs that had been amassed in recent weeks from the many arrivals to the fortress. Crates were neatly stacked one on top of the other whilst large oak barrels lined the thick stone wall. King Théoden had tasked you with tallying all of the rations that had been gathered together and ensuring their safe delivery to the Glittering Caves beyond the keep. To some, it may have appeared a simple task, with no true impact or merit. However, as Keeper of the Granary in Edoras, you knew all too well how plans for a siege could go disastrously awry should there not be adequate supplies to keep the troops fed and watered. The king himself would want to know the exact figures of every product stored, and most importantly how it could be stretched to cover the longest amount of time possible without his soldiers going hungry. It was a crucial part of the battle plans.

Consequently, every note you made on your parchment sheet was checked and re-checked, before the containers were carried off to the caves. The gravity and significance of the task at hand also kept your mind from dwelling on the thought of the thousands of Uruks which would soon be on the doorstep. You were no fighter, and had you not been kept busy with this charge, you might have found yourself completely overwhelmed with the anxiety of the battle ahead. 

"Those three sacks there can go next," you indicated to one of the youths who had been placed under your command for this task. "And ensure they are stored off the ground; we don't want spoiled grain on our hands." You watched as the boy nodded at your instructions and heaved a sack over his shoulder.

You turned back to your parchment paper, studying the values you had written. A few more calculations and you would be ready to present your findings back to the king and his war council, who were due to meet shortly for the final time. Presenting information to all the lords of Edoras may have intimidated some, but to you it seemed wholly insignificant compared to your apprehension of the conflict to come. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you glanced up quickly. Standing before you was Lord Aragorn, his gaze passing over the various containers that were held in the small area you were working in.

"My lord," you said as you bowed your head respectfully. "Is there something I can do for you?"

This was a paltry suggestion, for the man looked more than worse for wear. You had heard other folk speak of how he had been dragged off the cliff by one of the wolves of Isengard, and how he had ridden day and night to warn Théoden's people of the doom that was marching towards them. Yet nobody had spoken of his impairment. His complexion was pale beneath the dirt and grime of the skirmish and subsequent journey here, which also extended to his hair and clothing. A torn strip of cloth was tied around his upper arm, the crude bandage failing to fully cover an abrasion that was still red and raw underneath. His posture was irregular, likely caused by bruising beneath his garments and a cracked rib or two, and he gripped the hilt of his weapon as an old man would cling to a walking stick. As you took in his appearance, you found yourself morbidly surprised that he was still standing. 

"How are our supplies looking, Grainkeeper?" Aragorn asked, referring to you in the Common Tongue translation of your Rohirric title.

"Satisfactory, my lord," you replied quickly. "We won't be living in luxury, but I believe with careful management of our food stocks, we'll be able to see ourselves through at least a month of war or longer. The majority of the supplies have already been taken to the caves and stored securely. As you can see, we are about to move the final items," you gestured to the remaining crates of legumes and bushels of apples. You reported your findings to him as you would to King Théoden, taking the opportunity to see how the results would be received. 

"Good," he nodded. "That is good."

It didn't escape your attention how his grey eyes became glassy and unmoving as you gave your report, how his hand gripped the pommel of his sword with greater tension than before. "My lord, are you quite well?" you asked tentatively.

Aragorn blinked, returning from his reverie. "Well enough," he nodded with a forced smile. 

You felt less than convinced by his response. Nevertheless, he was a grown man, and it was not your place to fuss over him. With a pretence of curiosity to cover your underlying fears, you asked him about the preparations for the defence of the keep. Truth be told, you had been far too preoccupied in the makeshift open-air storeroom to take much notice of these activities.

"The reservists are being drawn behind the main wall, and archers will be positioned to support the keep," Aragorn said in a monotonous tone, as though he had repeated the battle plans over and over many times already. "King Théoden has sent his scouts to..." His sentence trailed off as he began to blink rapidly, reaching out to steady himself on one of the barrels of mead. Any remaining colour drained from his face as his breath came short and sharp.

Worry surged in your stomach for the man as he swayed dangerously on the spot. "My lord, you really should sit down. Here," you offered kindly, upturning an empty crate for him to use as a makeshift seat. "I'll fetch you some water." 

No sooner had you turned your back, there was an almighty crash as something went tumbling into the awaiting crates and barrels. You spun around on the spot and saw Aragorn sprawled on the floor, surrounded by upturned containers and stray carrots. A few apples rolled past the prone man whose limbs were haphazardly crumpled beneath him. Rushing to his side, you lifted back the mop of dark hair that lined his face; his eyes were half-lidded and his lips parted, as if he were trying to speak but his body was completely betraying him. You called his name, but there was no reaction. Pressing your fingers to his neck, you felt his racing heartbeat echoing in his veins beneath skin that was clammy to the touch. 

You called out to him again, the panic becoming evident in your voice. "Lord Aragorn, can you hear me?" You shook his shoulder vigorously in the hope of rousing him. Just as you were about to dash off to find help, you were rewarded when he let out a low, guttural moan.

"My lord?" 

You could just about make out the "M' fine," he mumbled into the floor. His fists clenched as began to push himself up to sitting, his hair falling over his facial features as he moved.

"Come, rest against the wall here." You gestured a few feet away where there was a gap between the mead barrels and crates. None of the colour had returned to his cheeks yet, and you fretted inwardly about whether he would lose consciousness again as you aided him. Soon enough, however, the man was resting against the cool stone, taking in deep and shaking breaths with his eyes firmly shut. 

You rushed to fill a spare flagon with water from a nearby jug, the liquid sloshing as you hurried back to Aragorn. The man opened one eye as you handed him the cup. "I'm fine," he repeated, seeing the concern etched on your face.

"I'm sure you are, my lord," you said grimly. "But it would lessen my worry to see you drink." 

Aragorn extended his hand towards the flagon, but seeing how he shook uncontrollably, you brought the cup to his lips instead. Slowly, he took a few small sips as the flagon tilted.

"Better?" you asked quietly.

"Aye. Thank you," he said. You helped him take a few more sips from the flagon, satisfied by the colouring that was slowly returning to his cheeks. 

Suddenly, another voice called over the barrels. "Lord Aragorn?"

You stood quickly, and saw the voice belonged to the captain of the king's guard, Háma. He looked slightly taken aback by your sudden appearance from behind several barrels. "Captain Háma, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I am looking for Lord Aragorn. King Théoden wishes to see him immediately."

You briefly looked down at Aragorn, who was still slumped behind the barrels. At first he caught your gaze with pleading grey eyes, before his eyelids fell and his head shifted lightly from side to side to convey his refusal. You understood; he wasn't ready, not yet. 

You feigned reaching for your parchment which had been abandoned on top of a nearby barrel, hoping Háma would not be suspicious of your downward glance. "I'm afraid I have not seen him, sir. Perhaps he has gone to the armoury?"

Háma's stern gaze was fixed on you for several moments, before he frowned with disappointment. "I have already looked there, but perhaps we missed each other. As you were, Grainkeeper." He departed the area, his armour and chainmail ringing as he walked.

As soon as the captain rounded the corner, you bent back down behind the storage containers to level with Aragorn.

"Thank you," he breathed. "I am not sure I could have faced the king right now. Not while I have no strength left in me." 

"That's quite alright, Lord Aragorn. Here," you gave him a polite smile before reaching out and offering one of the apples that had been thrown in his fall. 

Aragorn blanched at the sight of the fruit. "I'm not hungry," he grunted through gritted teeth. 

"You said it yourself, you are lacking strength." From your pocket you pulled a small knife, and holding the fruit in your palm you began to slowly remove the apple skin with the edge of the blade. "This should help you recover somewhat." You cut the skinned apple into pieces in your hand, handing the man a wedge. 

Aragorn took the apple piece, but paused for a good minute or two before it entered his mouth. He chewed slowly, grinding the fruit down into a pulp, before he swallowed with a grimace. He looked like he was trying very hard not to vomit. 

You searched for a topic of conversation to draw his focus away from his churning stomach. Unfortunately, the only subject brimming the surface of your thoughts was the feeling of impending doom waiting for the siege to begin; the same feeling you had largely ignored whilst you had been occupied by your work.

You blurted out a question that had been rattling around your mind before you could even consider whether it would be appropriate to ask. "Is it true? There are really ten thousand Uruks marching on us?" 

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. From the numbers I saw, Isengard is likely to be deserted."

You sighed, unable to mask your pessimism. "Ten thousand against three hundred. So there truly is no hope for us.."

"I disagree," said Aragorn quietly. "We still have hope." 

"Are we not fools to hope at all? Knowing what we are up against?"

"Nay," said Aragorn. "To hope is not foolish. We have a choice; to choose hope over fear. Choosing hope means choosing to believe that there are better days to come, if one has the courage to fight for it. That is not foolish in the slightest."

"No, I suppose not," you said, slightly surprised by the wisdom he demonstrated seemingly beyond his years. 

You suddenly heard your name being called from beyond the barrels. Rising to your feet once more, you saw the young man who had carried a sack of grain to the caves had returned. He stood obediently awaiting his next instructions, but you saw how his eyes curiously travelled around the chaos of upturned crates and loose vegetables that had appeared in his absence. "Never mind the mess now, boy," you shooed him away as soon as he held a crate of cabbages in his arms.  

"I should help you tidy up," Aragorn said firmly. "This is my doing after all."

"Are you sure, my lord?" You worried whether or not he should be standing so soon after his blackout.

"Yes. I insist," he said, slowly rising to his feet.

"That would be appreciated, thank you."

Together, you gathered up the provisions that had been thrown when the man had taken his tumble, and the chaos was soon reorganised back into neatly stacked crates. You looked around to see where you had left your parchment of notes, only to see the man holding them in his outstretched hand. 

"Remember; choose hope over fear," he said, touching your shoulder before taking his leave of you. 

His comment seemed to lighten the very air around you, the weight of complete helplessness clearing from your mind. You turned back to your parchment paper, feeling more resolved than ever to be a part of this final stand against evil, even if it was with a fool's hope.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn x y/n #aragorn x you #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #fanfiction #aragorn #the two towers #aragorn son of arathorn #whump #aragorn whump

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

Halloween with Eddie

Masterlist

Eddie takes Halloween very seriously. From the second those first leaves of the year start falling from the trees, he’s ready to go. As his girlfriend, you have the honor of partaking in what amounts to a month-long celebration of all things spooky with him. 

Normally, he’s not much of a planner, but he’ll carefully create a schedule to fit in all of his favorite activities during the month of October. 

First is of course decorating, which happens promptly on October 1st (or, if Wayne allows it, sometimes even earlier). The Munson’s don’t have a ton of decorations, but Eddie finds a way to make the most of what they do have (when you two move into your own place, he’ll definitely become the kind of person that goes all out building super intricate scenes in your front yard every year). The pumpkin patch is also a must, so you can pick out some good carving pumpkins. Eddie always comes up with some elaborate design for his. A creature from DND or a metal band logo. It takes a lot of work, but it always comes out looking incredible. 

Obviously, Haunted Houses are a favorite. Eddie likes to play big and tough, promising that it’s not scary, he’ll protect you, until something actually pops out at him, which will undoubtedly elicit a terrified shriek. If you mention it to him afterwards, he’ll insist that he totally wasn’t scared. Speaking of being scared, horror movie marathons are a big tradition, too. You love that particular activity, if only because it gives you an excuse to cuddle up to him extra tight if something “scary” happens. 

When it comes to dressing up, Eddie doesn’t mess around. This year, the two of you decide on a couples costume of Aragorn and Arwen, and Eddie makes it his mission to create the best Lord of the Rings themed costumes Hawkins has ever seen. You two end up finding generic knight and princess costumes, which will simply not do for Eddie. He spends hours with paint and sponges reworking the plastic armor so that it looks appropriately battle worn. He convinces some friends in the drama department to hook you up with prosthetic elf ears and hand makes you a circlet out of wire and a cool gemstone he found by the quarry. Not a lot of people fully understand the reference, but even they have to agree you two look awesome. 

Once the festivities are over, your Aragorn takes you to bed, and the two of you spend the night cuddling. He can’t actually offer you Gondor and Arnor, but snuggled up next to him, you think his room in the trailer will do just fine. 

#moodboards #stranger things #eddie munson #feral raccoon boy #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x femme!reader #stranger things 4 #stedit #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 edit #strangerthings4edit #stranger things season 4 edit #strangerthingsseason4edit #joseph quinn #stranger things moodboard #eddie munson moodboard #boyfriend eddie munson #reader x eddie munson #y/n x eddie munson #you x eddie munson #stranger things eddie #eddie moodboard #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson edit #eddiemunsonedit #strangerthingsedit #stranger things edit

[sotwk]

Writing LOTR fanfiction takes a Fellowship.

Just like Frodo needed Sam, Merry, and Pippin to help him sneak out of the Shire...

Just like Frodo needed Gandalf's wise counsel, and Aragorn's sword, and Legolas's bow, and Gimli's axe...

Just like Frodo would have never gotten very far without his Sam...

So would I not get very far with my writing without the support of the mutuals who regularly show up with their comments and reblogs to show me that my passion projects have value and are worth pursuing.

Writing The Hobbit fanfiction takes a Company.

Just like Thorin would never have set out to reclaim Erebor without taking along a Company of the truest, most honorable dwarves to join in his quest...

Just like Thorin needed Bilbo to come to his rescue not just with his sword, but with his counsel and courage to tell a King the things he needed to hear...

Just like the King Under the Mountain would have been lost to dragon sickness without the friendship and loyalty of his kinsmen...

So would I be lost to writer's anxiety and self-doubt without the friends who take the time to encourage me and discuss my ideas with me, and boost up my confidence and energy when my spirit grows weary and low.

Successful fanfiction writing is a TEAM EFFORT. Thank you to all Fanfiction Readers who go the extra mile to support Writers with their comments and messages of encouragement.

[ramoth13]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(*POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR SHOW-ONLY WATCHERS*)

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

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

(*POSSIBLE SPOILERS CONCLUDED*)

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

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

In any case, I wish you all well!

Na lû e-govaded 'wîn, mellon nin!

~ Ramoth13

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

[anghraine]

I've harped a lot on the Stewards' backstory and its intersection with Elrosian beardlessness per Nature of Middle-earth (and Peoples of Middle-earth and implied in Unfinished Tales). But I think the implications of what we're told are genuinely fascinating in terms of Gondorian culture.

Like, okay:

+ Apparently royal ancestry was essentially required for some very powerful political offices, at least at one point. (Tolkien says Húrin of Emyn Arnen must have been the king's cousin, of royal ancestry, to be given the Stewardship.)

+ Húrin was not, however, a member of the royal house despite being a descendant of Anárion, and his house was not in the succession. The most obvious explanation is that they're descended through a woman. I guess it might be an illegitimate line like the Beauforts (or both), though it doesn't seem like that's much of a thing—but it'd be interesting if the Stewards' refusal to claim the throne was an answer to the Tudors as well as the Stuarts.

+ Royal ancestry doesn't seem as common as it would realistically be after that much time. It's treated as fairly extraordinary (though not as vanishingly rare as I think fandom sometimes treats it) and Tolkien explicitly distinguishes between Dúnedain and Dúnedain of Elvish heritage (esp via Elros).

+ I guess there was an echelon of Gondorian society descended from the royal family that used Quenya names, and only they got to do it. It doesn't seem like it was just the Stewards (before the Ruling Stewardship led to Performative Sindarin) but a whole cultural thing. Okay.

+ UT has this explanation about how the mystique of the Princes of Dol Amroth goes back to one Silvan ancestor and it's really cool even if they weren't descended from Sindar or High Elves. Since it turns out Elrosian Elvish heritage is really persistent, I guess they're not Elrosians? It kind of makes for a fascinating dynamic. (Extra points to Lothíriel of Dol Amroth for naming her firstborn son after Elendil, lol, even if it's not literally in Quenya. Power move tbh.)

+ Buuuut there are definitely some people descended from Elves who just don't inherit it. Tolkien specifically contrasts beardless part-Elves like Aragorn, Boromir, and Faramir with the bearded Théoden and Éomer, but they've got Silvan ancestry too and it just didn't take—I think pretty obviously on the thematic level because they're so aligned with very much non-Elvish Rohan, but it's still suggestive. Is Elfwinë bearded? He's supposed to look like Imrahil ... and what about Eldacar?

+ What are the implications of being bearded or deliberately clean-shaven in Dúnadan society? What do beardless Elrosian Gondorians look like to people like the Rohirrim, for whom beards would normally be a mark of maturity? Do any other Gondorians imitate the beardlessness of the Elrosians? Is that actively discouraged in a sumptuary law kind of way?

I don't know, but I do enjoy how bizarre these people are.

#anghraine babbles #ondonórë blogging #peak problematic faves lol #legendarium blogging #nature of middle earth #húrinionath #húrin of emyn arnen #house of dol amroth #lothíriel #long post

[frodo-with-glasses]

This is a post about Ghân-buri-Ghân and the Woses, or the Wild Men.

Full disclosure: When I was a kid, I pretty much skipped this part. I was already getting very lost with the logistics of the Rohirrim’s movement, and I was very impatient for Merry and Pippin to be reunited already and Frodo and Sam to be done with the quest and back on home turf. I was having a hard enough time telling the difference between Gondor and Rohan (every other race in Middle Earth only gets one country that’s very important, but for the most boring race of them all I’m supposed to keep track of two?? preposterous), and having yet another group of humans pop up out of nowhere just to disappear after half a chapter left me baffled and annoyed.

After all, the Wild Men are pretty much disconnected from everything else in the story, aren’t they? They aren’t related to any of the characters we’ve met already. They’re not personal friends with any members of the Fellowship, or even friends with the friends of the members of the Fellowship. They have very little to do with Rohan and Gondor, and nothing at all to do with elves or dwarves or ents or hobbits or wizards or anything else that Little Me thought were the Important Parts of the story. If you took your cue from the movies, this opinion would only seem reinforced: the Riders of Rohan reach Minas Tirith with no complications greater than a Mumakil, and the Wild Men aren’t mentioned even once. If you didn’t know better, you might think the Wild Men are little more than an extraneous detour.

But it’s exactly because they seem extraneous that I think we need to pay them extra attention. Tolkien is not a careless storyteller; he’s long-winded, for sure, and has a knack for descriptions in excruciating detail, but he’s not careless. Every word, every sentence, every line of dialogue and narration and poetry exists in the story for a reason. If Tolkien didn’t have to put the Wild Men in the story—if they weren’t strictly necessary to the plot, save to solve one problem that (let’s be honest) kinda looks like it was invented just so they could fix it—that means he wanted to put them there. He wanted them there, because he wanted to tell us something.

I think it behooves us to listen.

So what is Tolkien trying to say? I have no idea. The man’s dead, and I can’t ask him. But the message I’m getting here has two parts:

1. The World Is Big

If nothing else, the Woses serve as a reminder that Middle Earth is much, much bigger than even Lord of the Rings makes it out to be. That’s saying something, because LotR isn’t a small story! This is a grand legend that stretches across nations, from one horizon to the other in an epic trek, and yet it still fails to capture Middle Earth in its every detail. Entire nations and kingdoms get lost in the wash, or are only mentioned in passing, and some names we only see in the maps at the back of the book.

Remember, Tolkien’s framing device for LotR is that it was an eyewitness account, a history written by the hobbits and supplemented with accounts from their friends. The POV characters we’ve had so far—if I’m remembering correctly—are Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Fatty Bolger, Bilbo, Aragorn, Gimli, and a sort of omniscient narrator that seems to represent “hearsay” or “local gossip”. If any of these characters didn’t witness something and come back to report it, then it didn’t make it into the story. If they didn’t go someplace, or meet some people, and come back to tell about it, then it didn’t make it into the story.

But just because the unnamed peoples of Middle Earth don’t get into the histories doesn’t make them any less important. Just because we don’t learn their names doesn’t mean they didn’t suffer under the fear of Sauron, or rejoice when he was defeated. Just because we don’t know them doesn’t make them any less…well, for lack of a better word, human, or any less important.

The War of the Ring mattered just as much to the Wild Men as it did to Gondor or Rohan or the Shire. Because the War of the Ring was about saving their world too.

2. A Treatise on Treatment of Native Peoples

Again, I’m only trying to reiterate what I can see of Tolkien’s opinion in this passage. I happen to agree with a lot of what he says, but we’re talking about him, not me.

The Woses are, as far as I can tell, the closest thing to an indigenous or native people group in the southern region of Middle Earth. Obviously they must have come from somewhere—anyone who’s read the Silmarillion could probably fill me in on that—but Ghan-buri-Ghan says himself that “Wild Men live here before the Stone-houses; before Tall Men come up out of Water”. The Wild Men preceded the settlement of Gondor, and inhabited the land even before the Numenorians; they were here First, and still they remain.

So, how does Tolkien portray this native people group? Well, the first thing he does is to say—hilariously and pointedly—that the Wild Men are anything but stupid. Ghan warns, in his broken speech, that Mordor’s forces outnumber the Rohirrim, and Eomer challenges this assertion—“how do you know that?”—to which Ghan says, if I may paraphrase, “boi I’m not a child I can count as well as you can”. The first point made is that, though the Wild Men may seem ugly and primitive and are clad only in grass skirts, they are as shrewd as the tacticians of Rohan, and maybe even more.

The next thing that happens is that Ghan strikes a deal: he and his people will lead the Rohirrim to Minas Tirith by long-forgotten roads, and in exchange, the men of Rohan must battle to drive off the Darkness so that the Wild Men may go back to their lives in peace. Of course, this arrangement benefits both parties; both are in danger, and both have a common enemy. To see the end of the Darkness would be infinitely valuable to them both.

This is fascinating to me, because you can’t really say that one party here was “using” the other, or that one benefited at the other’s expense. Yes, the Rohirrim gained the guidance of the Wild Men, which furthered their goal; but in the end, it only put them one step closer to possible death on the battlefield against a great Enemy. Yes, the Wild Men get to sit back and watch the Horse-Men risk their lives in open war, but if they should fail, what then? By helping Rohan, they are establishing themselves as an enemy of Sauron; whether Ghan realizes it or not—and personally, I think he does—this single act of defiance is putting a target on the backs of his people, should the Enemy emerge victorious. Sure, they can hide in the forests for a while—as long as there are forests. But not forever. I think that’s why Ghan takes his stand now; he knows there might not be another chance.

Ghan has established that he is shrewd, straightforward, and honorable. He even vows that he will lead the Rohirrim himself, and that they may kill him if he steers them wrong; he’s that willing to stake his life on his word. But when Theoden promises to handsomely reward Ghan for his help and his faithfulness, Ghan only asks for one thing in return: “if you live after the Darkness, then leave Wild Men alone in the woods and do not hunt them like beasts anymore”.

There’s something in me that kinda…twinges, when I read this. Like I’m half-remembering a bolt of anger from Baby Me before I checked out of this passage entirely. How dare this book imply that these kind, noble horse-people would be so cruel and barbaric as to hunt other human beings like animals? Wasn’t this the same people whose king accepted Merry like a son, and who provided Gandalf with the best horse in the world? These are the GOOD guys! They wouldn’t do something like that! The book doesn’t know what it’s talking about, clearly. I wish I could get back to the hobbits again.

But now that I’m older, I think it’s more telling that Rohan isn’t spotless and blameless in this transaction. They have wronged the Wild Men in the past; out of ignorance, maybe, and out of prejudice, perhaps, and out of fear, almost certainly. We all fear what is foreign to us and what we don’t understand. But Ghan is putting that aside for the moment. Ghan chooses to extend forgiveness. For once, his people and Rohan face a greater evil, and they unite against a common enemy. All of the sudden, Rohan has an opportunity to make amends for all their wrongs, by “driving away the bad air and darkness with bright iron”.

I’m sure I don’t have to tell you about the historical treatment of native people groups in our real world. The archetypal example, of course, is the European settlers and the native tribes of North America; but we see the same thing in Central and South America too, and that’s not even getting into the British Empire’s other affairs in Egypt and India and China and Oceania. I could talk about the Spanish conquistadors; I could talk about the Dutch in South Africa and apartheid. But it goes even further back than that. It’s what the Roman Empire did to the Germanic peoples of Gaul; what the Islamic Empire did to the entire Middle East and much of Northern Africa; what the Babylonians and Persians and the Mesopotamian superpower of the week did to their vassal states on a regular basis. Standard practice in Babylonia was to invade a place and immediately ship all the smart, strong, and wealthy people off to Babylon to be assimilated, leaving behind the weak, poor, unlearned, and destitute to till the land and keep their heads down. Can’t have a rebellion if everyone’s too dumb and starving to organize it.

(Incidentally, the Roman Empire is what gave us the word “barbarian”; the speech of the Germanic peoples they conquered was unintelligible to them and sounded like “bar-bar-bar”, so they named them after it. The fact that the word they coined now refers to a ruthless, stupid, uncouth person should tell you a lot about the Roman Empire’s opinion of these folks.)

Anyway, the point is that throughout history, there’s always been a pattern: up comes this people group who’s smarter and more advanced than anybody else, and they think that gives them free rein to go wherever they want, do whatever they want, and use, abuse, and extort the people they see as “beneath” them. The Romans had figured out indoor plumbing by the time of Christ, and they thought they were such hot stuff that they took over the Mediterranean and taxed the living daylights out of them. (Some estimates put the tax rate at about 90%. 90!! Imagine keeping only a tenth of your paycheck every month. I know it already feels like that, but still!)

We’d do well to address the question that Baby Me probably thought when I read this for the first time: “Why can’t the Wild Men just be Men of Rohan?” Why can’t they put on real clothes, and pick up spears and swords, and get on horses and ride into battle and make a real contribution? Why do they insist on going back to their primitive lives? Perhaps part of the reason the Men of Rohan felt justified in hunting the Wild Men is because they saw them as more crude and less advanced people; “they live in the forests, clad only in grass, hunting and sleeping under the stars like dangerous wild animals, and therefore must be treated as such”.

But let me ask you a question: Aren’t the people of Rohan primitive too? Aragorn describes them as “unlearned, not writing any books but singing many songs”; how is that any different from the songs that may be passed down by Ghan-buri-Ghan’s people? Isn’t Rohan crude and simple in its own way, at least in comparison to some others? Just because they build houses of wood and speak with fair, beautiful speech doesn’t mean they are better than those who don’t. If Rohan had the right to treat the Wild Men as they wished—because, as “civilized people”, they were so much smarter and more advanced—then Saruman had the right to treat Rohan as he wished—because, as a Wizard, he was so much smarter and more advanced.

I want you to get this. If Rohan does not check itself here and humbly accept the Woses as equals, then Rohan is no better than Saruman.

Thankfully, Rohan does pass the test. One of Theoden’s greatest traits is his humility, and it serves him well here. A deal is struck, a path is cut, and the Wild Men make their contribution and disappear into the forests, with only a lingering portent that the wind is changing, and maybe the times with it. The book says that they were “never to be seen by any Rider of Rohan again”; by which I take it that Rohan’s side of the promise was upheld, and the Wild Men lived on, in their own ways, unmolested, in the Druadan Forest until the end of time.

I don’t have a way to end this, but maybe that’s appropriate to the subject matter; like the Wild Men themselves, this post will appear out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly as it came. I just think the Woses are fascinating—both for in-universe and meta reasons—in spite of, and perhaps because of my initial annoyance all those years ago.

We will return to your daily crack post tomorrow LOL

#ghan-buri-ghan #the wild men #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr meta #my writing #there are no tags on tumblr for ghan-buri-ghan or the wild men or anything like that #literally no one is talking about these guys #they are the cryptids that they were always meant to be #in which i wax eloquent about the roman empire and history nerd stuff for WAY too long

[manlywitch]

シMY MASTER LISTシ

Requests are- opened☆

◇Rules and boundaries◇

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- I will not write female readers.

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- Don't expect me to write your request within a snap of a finger. It might take some time.

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- I won't write any weird kinks like barf or scat.

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- I won't write anything romantic about a literal child (16 is the minimum)

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No romantic fem character x male reader

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- No Irl serial killers.

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Fandoms and characters I write for.

BNHA

- Almost all class 1-A males. ☆

- Almost all class 1-B males. ☆

- Platonic stories with the girls. ☆

- Almost all pro-heroes. ☆

- Almost all villains. ☆

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FNaF

- Human versions of the animatronics. ☆

- Animatronics X animatronic reader. ☆

- Micheal Afton. ☆

- William Afton. ☆

- Most nightguards. ☆

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Sally Face

- Sal Fisher. ☆

- Larry Johnson. ☆

- Travis Phelps. ☆

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Hazbin Hotel.

- Angel Dust. ☆

- Alastor. ☆

- Sir. Pentious. ☆

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Helluva boss.

- Blitzø ☆

- Moxxie. ☆

- Stolas ☆

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Lord of the rings/Hobbit.

-Legolas ☆

-Frodo Baggins ☆ -Gimli☆ -Aragorn☆ -Boromir☆ -Samwise Gamgee☆

-Thranduil☆ -Bilbo baggins

-The 15 dwarves☆

- ☆

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Oc's

- Yandere's. ☆

- Demonic male's. ☆

- Childhood friends. ☆

- <Other's may be added> ☆

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< about me >

Name: Evan.

Nationality: Denmark (Dansk)

Pronouns: He/him.

Job: Cleaner + student.

Age: 21.

Special interest: Frida Kahlo

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Extra info: I'm Danish but live in America for college ^^.

I'm also Autistic so I might come off as 'rude' to some people :p

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I'm Jewish so um...Yeah do whatever you want with it I guess 👍

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#uta x male reader #bakugou x male reader #omega male reader #micheal afton x male reader #bottom male reader #mha #y/n #helluva boss x male reader #Hazbin hotel x male reader #SoundCloud

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #24: LotR, but make it half-Maia!Legolas

I honestly thought I was done with Legolas headcanons, but then this one hit me over the head: what if Legolas’ mother was a Maia?

Bear with me:

We are given little-to-no information about Legolas’ background in canon. The only thing we know for sure is that his father, Thranduil, was originally from Doriath and has been ruling Mirkwood since his own father, Oropher, died of his own poor tactical thinking in the War of the Last Alliance.

But what if we know nothing about Legolas' background because no one in Middle Earth has any idea either?

Just imagine it:

After the War of Wrath, Oropher led his people into the Greenwood and established himself as king over the local population. However this came about, "The few Sindar who had come with him were soon merged with the Silvan Elves, adopting their customs and language and taking names of Silvan form and style. Oropher and his household wished to return to a simple existence natural to the Elves before they had been disturbed by the Valar" [x].

I'm not quite sure what Silvan elves got up to before Greenwood became Mirkwood, but I imagine it involved a lot of frolicking and hunting in the woods, and generally living up to the stereotype forest-dwelling immortal spirits at one with nature. And Thranduil, being the prince of this realm, would be naturally be the best of them all.

I imagine this catches the eye of one of the more minor Maiar sometime in the Second Age - a hunter in Oromë's retinue, most likely, but someone in Vána's retinue could possibly work too.

Thranduil strikes up a relationship with this Maia whenever she passes through, because unlike Melian a hunter of Oromë wouldn't be content to stay in one bounded woods when there are things to hunt across Arda and Aman. It is the epitome of a long-distance relationship.

Key to all of this is that Thranduil never tells anyone her identity. Oh, he very obviously is in a relationship and will disappear for weeks at a time throughout the Second Age to be with his wife, but no one ever meets her - or, as they assume she's just some Silvan elf with no interest in being princess or queen, admits to being her.

Thranduil goes off with his father to fight in the War of the Last Alliance. Unlike his father, he lives and returns to the Greenwood as king of his people.

Shortly after he returns, his Maiar wife presents him with baby!Legolas to raise and rejoins Oromë's hunt. Depending on his actual age when given to Thranduil, Legolas may even have some youthful memories of hunts he spent on the back of his mother's horse and/or of hunts in Aman.

Their relationship continues much as before, and though she makes the effort to be more present for Legolas' benefit it's dealer's choice whether she's successful at it. Maybe as a Maia of the hunt she's not good with children and is able to salvage her relationship with her son when he gets old enough to spend all his days hunting too; maybe she's a really good mother despite her frequent absences and the family dynamics just work for everyone. Who knows?

Legolas' mother is only a minor Maia, and so he's not quite as extra as Lúthien. He's noted for being the best hunter of his age - but most assume that's down to genetics, because of his father's legendary skill, and because of a lifetime of practice, because Mirkwood is Mirkwood.

And, honestly, a Mirkwood filled with spiders to hunt is probably all a half-Maia elf could ever want, particularly when their Maia parent is a huntress of Oromë.

The events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings go as in canon, with the exception of Galadriel saying that she cannot give Legolas a better bow than his mother made for him, and so granting him a different gift. This prompts several questions about Legolas' mother, particularly when Aragorn admits that not even Elrond knows her identity.

The hobbits responsible for The Red Book of Westmarch never learn the truth.

But, as I'm an inveterate Legolas/Gimli stan, Legolas admits the truth to Gimli sometime after that relationship forms - maybe Legolas' mother shows up at some point while they're in Ithilien to check up on her son after the war ends and the truth comes out; maybe it comes out when Legolas is trying to reassure Gimli theirs wouldn't be the most unusual marriage in the family - but no one else ever learns the truth.

It's Legolas' Maia heritage that allows Gimli to sail with him to Aman - either his mother requests it as a boon from the Valar for her son, or something about his ancestry allows him to grant others access.

Bonuses include: 1) Everything that might point to Legolas' Maia heritage is written off as elfish weirdness by non-elves, Silvan weirdness by non-Silvan elves, and Sinda weirdness by Silvan elves; 2) Despite all this, Legolas talks about his mother a lot and so by the breaking of the Fellowship everyone has this idea that his mother is the Greatest Hunter Ever To Live; and 3) the question of just who Thranduil is married to being a big source of betting and speculation for elves, and all the elves the Fellowship encounters try to use them to get the inside track.

And that's it. As always, feel free to adopt this plot bunny, just link back to me if you do anything with it.

Other Legolas Headcanons: First Age | Second Age | Third Age | Half-Maia | Half-Elven

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #lotr #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #tolkien #legolas x gimli #legolas #thranduil #legolas headcanon #lotr headcanons #tolkien headcanons