#aragorn's entrance always makes me sit up straight

[jazzistolkienfanfics]

Breathing - Aragorn x reader (modern!AU)

hi! could you do prompt #53 with a female reader and aragorn? thank you!

@elvish-sky​ oh joy, another sad aragorn fic (jk jk). i wanted to write this one as a modern!AU because of some research i was doing before school ended for science and ... i just thought of the concept and liked it, okay hush

53. “You said you were okay!”

Type: Imagine Pairing: Aragorn x reader (modern!AU) Summary: Y/N hasn’t been entirely honest with her boyfriend, Aragorn. Warnings: angst, sadness, death, Word Count: 1,704 words

Y/N laughed loudly as the black Newfoundland puppy chased its fluffy tail, the dark fur sticking up as though it had been struck by lightning. 

Aragorn grinned at her, taking yet another long moment to watch her - to savour everything about his beautiful girlfriend. Just like every time she giggled, he wanted the seconds to last forever. He wanted every day he got to be with Y/N to last forever, because one day, they would be unable to make new memories. 

One day sooner than he would like. 

He tugged the sleeves of his RSPCA volunteer jacket down as he sat by her side, whistling for the dog to come and sit by his side. It obliged, just as all the animals in the shelter, or anywhere, always did.

Animal whisperer, Y/N would tease him. Like Doctor Dolittle!

Aragorn looked to her again, the smile still on Y/N’s face. Flushed s/c cheeks. Hooded e/c eyes with heavy bags under them, yet she still looked beauty. H/l messy h/c hair, kept out of her face by a f/c ribbon.

Then, the things people tended to stare at. The bag by her side, much like the wheeled kind some people used to shop. The nose cannula hooked behind her ears, a long tube carrying oxygen from the bag. A surgery scar protruding from her f/c shirt’s neckline. 

Those things didn’t bother him. He loved her. 

“Are you okay?”

Aragorn blinked at Y/N’s question. Normally he was the one asking her that question, or supposed to be. “I-I’m perfect.”

She smiled again. “That’s good.”

He stood, pulling her to her feet as well. “Come on. My shift’s up.”

Y/N jokingly pouted. “But the puppies!”

This time, it was Aragorn who laughed. “We’ll come back next week, I promise.”

“Next week,” she echoed, a sadness in her voice that her boyfriend didn’t detect.

---

Y/N coughed, making a face as the last of her pills went down her throat. She took dozens every day - it was part of her necessary, pre-determined hospital routine. 

Her nurse, Legolas, (A/N - stan male nurses) passed her some water, which she gladly swallowed, hacking again. 

“Good job,” he grinned. “Everything’s doing okay. Lung function is at 54 percent, a little lower than last week, but it will get higher again.”

She’d definitely expected that, though her heart still sunk.

“I’ll let your boyfriend in now.” Legolas laughed at the annoyed look on his charge’s face. The sound faded as he took on a more serious tone. “But, you remember that it could get even worse anytime, especially-”

“I know,” Y/N interrupted, her voice scratched and broken. “I know.”

“Be careful,” the nurse reminded her again, as he left the room, Aragorn passing through the door before it could even swing shut. 

“Going alright?”

Y/N grimaced. “As well as can be expected. I hate my lungs.”

He took her hand, squeezing it tightly, like he would never, could never, let go. “I know you’re strong, Y/N/N. You can’t let CF beat you.”

Ah, yes. There it was - the casual reminder Y/N couldn’t go a day without hearing. Stressing how she was holding her life in an hourglass, which was rapidly running out of time.

Cystic Fibrosis. An often terminal lung condition, meaning Y/N’s lungs functioned at low percentages, causing difficulty in her breathing and weakened immune system. She was often lucky to spend more than a month out of the hospital, thought that hadn’t been the case recently.

She’d been continually relapsing, her lung function decreasing with every checkup. 

To put it simply, it sucked. Royally. 

“Here,” Aragorn offered her her nose cannula. “Hook up, and I’ll distract you.”

Y/N slipped it on, taking his hand and dragging her portable oxygen in The Granny Shopping Bag™️ with the other. smiling.

Well, at least, her mask was smiling. Inside, she didn’t know if she had the energy or will to anymore.

---

Y/N knew it was a risk, and she was exactly aware of the million and one ways this could go wrong. 

But she didn’t care. She was going to live whilst she still could. She was done with giving up her life, letting down her boyfriend, because of some stupid mucus. 

Besides, he didn’t know. He didn’t know it all, and she wasn’t going to stop them from being unable to make happy memories together by burdening him with more bad news. Being the protective guy he was, Aragorn probably wouldn’t even let her leave the hospital if her found out.

“Ready?” said-boyfriend-in-question asked.

“Hell yeah,” Y/N grinned, straightening the edges of her denim jacket. 

They stood at the archway entrance to the Rivendell National Park - a beautiful wonderland of pale trees and swirling leaves, in the deep of autumn.

Technically, Y/N wasn’t meant to engage in ‘prolonged physical activity’. But technically, she wasn’t even meant to be alive right now.

No one, least of all her, knew how much time she had left. Y/N wasn’t one to waste it. 

Together, she and Aragorn stepped through the archway, and explored the ‘whole new realm’.

---

After ten minutes, her lungs were burning, but she didn’t say anything.

Aragorn was looking so happy - a goofy smily affixed upon his face, his dark eyes lighting up as he swished his head from side to side to admire everything with childish wonder. 

The National Park was beautiful, but the air was thin, and Y/N was struggling not to audibly struggle. She hated being dependent on people, and she would. Not. Worry. Him.

Something felt different this time - her breathing was quickening even though she was walking extraordinarily slowly, and she was in more pain than she should’ve been

Y/N signalled for Aragorn to stop, doubling over and coughing until her throat was raw. She couldn’t breathe whilst the mucus was crawling up her airways, and she’d rather clear it than suffer.

“Get it out, Y/N,” Aragorn encouraged her as she straightened, worry sketched all over his face. 

Her coughing was done, and she went to take a nice big inhale, but ....

She.

Still.

Couldn’t.

Breathe.

Breathing should’ve been something natural, easy, if she had been just a normal young woman with her normal boyfriend. 

She wished that lying didn’t come to her easier than breathing.

Y/N collapsed, choking, almost about to pass out as Aragorn immediately fell to her side, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling an emergency number.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, his breaths coming shortly as well as he scooped her up into his arms. “Oh, God. Y-You’re going to be okay, Y/N.”

Funny how good they’d both become at lying.

With that thought, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, without the energy to keep themselves open.

“Y/N!”

---

Aragorn sat in the waiting room with a feeling like acid being poured down his throat and then regurgitated. 

She shouldn’t have collapsed like that - it was highly medically improbable given what he knew about Y/N and her Cystic Fibrosis. Unless ... there was something he didn’t know.

He shook his head as soon as that thought came to him. He trusted Y/N. She trusted him. He had to have faith in her.

The sound of footsteps encouraged him to look sideways, where he saw Y/N’s nurse, Legolas, with four cups of coffee in his arms.

“Expecting someone else?” Aragorn laughed as he was handed one of the cups.

“Oh, no,” Legolas replied, with an unbelievably straight face. “I intend to drink all the coffee.”

“How is Y/N?” 

The nurse winced. “I will be honest with you - she isn’t going so well right now. The fact that she was still walking with you ... that’s pretty amazing given her lung function and diagnosis.”

“What do you mean?” Aragorn furrowed his eyebrows. “She-she’s fine, isn’t she?”

Legolas stared. “Y/N didn’t tell you, did she? Oh, that stubborn little-”

“Tell me what?”

He averted Aragorn’s eyes. “Tell you that she was diagnosed with Burkholderia Cepacia and she was given another six months to live with her current lung function.”

“What?” All the air rushed out of his lungs, and suddenly, he knew how Y/N felt when it was hard for her to breathe. “H-How long has it been?”

Again, the blond looked awkwardly to the floor.

“How long?!” It was a shout this time, and Aragorn could feel himself on the brink of tears. His beautiful girlfriend, lost to the void ... he could not cope with it.

“Seven months.”

He fell back in his chair, coffee discarded, his shaking hands covering his face as his cheeks dripped with tears. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

A doctor rushed out from the ER, making a beeline for Legolas. Her nametag read ‘Tauriel’, her long red hair flying behind her as she ran towards them.

Her face was sober.

“He-he should come. Now.” She motioned towards Aragorn who stood immediately.

“Is Y/N alright?”

Dr. Tauriel did not answer his question, just motioning for him to follow her. 

---

Y/N wasn’t moving. For such a joyful young woman, she was lying unbelievably still. 

There was a crowd of doctors around her, but they all moved back at the sight of Aragorn.

“I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t know who said it ... all he could think about was how much paler Y/N looked than her normal s/c. 

“She-she’s just a-asleep, r-right?” Aragorn stuttered on the words as more tears fell down his face. “Y/N’s o-okay?”

Dr. Tauriel shook her head. “I’m so sorry. We-we couldn’t do anything.”

“You said you were okay!” Aragorn cried, talking to Y/N even though she couldn’t hear him - would never hear him again. Jut like he would never hear her. “You told me you were okay ...”

“Get him out of here,” someone said quietly, and Aragorn was pulled to the door.

He threw one final look over his shoulder. 

Y/N’s hair was spread out over the pillow. Her hands had been folded over her chest. She still had her nose cannula in, but that had never made her less beautiful.

Even in death, she still looked like an angel.

She was still the most beautiful person Aragorn had ever known.

A/N - guys this is my new favourite fic so please spread it! @elvish-sky​ thank you so much for this request, and everyone, thank you for reading!

#aragorn #modern!aragorn #modern!au #au #lotr au #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr x reader #aragorn x reader #x reader #modern!aragorn x reader #you

[random-imagines-blog]

Jenny of Oldstones {Frodo Baggins x Reader}

Requested by: @depressed-comics Wordcount: 2241 Summary: Encouraged by Pippin, you show off your singing skills to the company. Your best friend Frodo is taken aback by the fact you never told him you could sing. Notes: Song is Jenny of Oldstones by Florence + The Machine

Having a Baggins as a best friend meant that you were always in for a world of adventure. It started with being babysat by Bilbo, and listening to the tales of his adventures. And then as you grew up, it turned into going through his vast library and pulling the tomes off of the shelves and going through them. You loved the tales of the dwarves best. Elves were cool and all, but it seemed like all that they wanted to do was look pretty in the trees. Humans were too easily corrupted but the dwarves - they just wanted to make things. You related to them in that way, though you didn’t want to work in the mines and make pretty golden things. You wanted to make music, but you kept that to yourself. Only your friend Pippin knew, and that’s because you stumbled upon him when he was singing. You showed him that you could sing too, and the both of you would sometimes meet up at night and practice duets together. The only thing was, you made him promise that he wouldn’t ever reveal it to Frodo. You were a bit frightened of what he might think if he found out. It was the only thing that you had that was separate from him.

The world of adventure grew bigger when Gandalf came from Uncle Bilbo’s birthday. It had started off with fireworks, and ended up as the beginning of a quest. You refused to leave Frodo’s side on most occasions, so of course Gandalf wasn’t even going to attempt to hide this from you. Sam then listened in from outside, the fumbling gardener that you also considered to be a close friend, and soon enough, you knew what you had to do.

You were swept into a journey straight out of Bilbo’s stories! Gandalf seemed to be the writer, and the instigator of them both. Running into Merry and Pippin, going to Bree, being far from the Shire, that was adventure enough. But then Aragorn, the night riders, Rivendell, meeting the elves, forming the Fellowship! And on top of that, being the only female on the ten-person group! The people back in The Shire were never going to believe this.

It was your second night away from Rivendell. Mordor, especially Mount Doom, still seemed so far away. The land was still in peace where the ten of you were camping out for the night, creating a fire before the skies got too dark. You were peeling up some potatoes for a makeshift stew, using the knife that you had gotten in the Elven city. Everyone got new weapons there, and you thought yours was pretty nifty, though you were a little disappointed you didn’t get a fancy sword like Aragorn. Still, you had your eyes set on using it the next time that Boromir offered to teach you and the other hobbits how to fight.

Sam was on one side of you, peeling some carrots and throwing them into the pot. Frodo had his head on your lap, stretched out as he seemed to be in constant contemplation. It was hard not to look at him with pity these days. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And not just that, but an evil overlord on top of that world, making it heavier and heavier by the day. Pippin and Merry weren’t helping all that much, not that you had expected them too, and they were pestering Boromir about some argument that they had earlier that morning about him eating the apple that Merry specifically wanted. Legolas and Gimli were on opposite sides of the camp, not having gotten used to one another and Aragorn was across from you, stripping rabbits for the stew.

“You alright?” You asked Frodo, taking a break to run your fingers through his curly hair. He looked up at you with his wide blue eyes and nodded.

“Just tired,” He said, quietly. You knew he didn’t like to complain much, even though he had the biggest burden to bear out of all of you. You gave him a wary smile, knowing that it was more than that, but you would let it go. If he really wanted to talk about it, you had full faith that he would come to you. That’s what best friends did.

“Know what would go great with dinner?” Pippin asked, coming and sitting by you and Sam.

“Your help,” Sam muttered, throwing his carrots into the pot. You chuckled at his answer, somewhat agreeing, but then again - you weren’t sure that Pippin could cook at all. His help might actually hinder the meal.

“A song!” He grinned widely at you in the earnest way that he always did when he would try to get you to sing. You shook your head quickly, and looked towards the boiling pot as a distraction.

“Go ahead and sing then, Pip.” You said, picking up another potato and started to peel it.

“I’m sick of his voice, let someone else sing for once,” Merry joined the group, warming his feet by the fire. That he hadn’t helped to create, by the way. He looked over at you with a joyful, but mischevious expression on his face. “Come on, y/n, I’ve never heard you sing, you’ve got to know some songs.”

“He’s right, you never sing,” Sam said thoughtfully, his mood slowly turning from annoyed to curious. “Even at the parties.”

“Everyone knows y/n doesn’t sing,” Frodo jumped in, thinking that he was defending you. He sat up and put his arm around your shoulder. “So leave her alone.”

“She does too sing!” Pippin said,  making you shoot a glare at him. “Oh come on, we’re on an adventure, a quest! There’s no better time for you to show them than now!”

“Do you ever think with your working brain, Took?” You asked, leaning into your best friends embrace.

“There’s no harm in a song,” Boromir smiled his most charming smile and took a seat around the fire. Eventually, the elf and the dwarf did too. The only one who took no interest in the conversation was Aragorn, who continued to work at the rabbit. “Especially from a lass. Treat us to a song!”

You flushed slightly under Boromir’s smile. You might be a Hobbit, but you could appreciate the beauty that humans have. He was so unlike all of the Hobbits that you had seen. But you still preferred the curls of Hobbits over the lankiness of Human hair. “If you don’t mind your ears bleeding, I guess I know a song.”

You avoided looking at Frodo as you started to sing the song. Your voice was like a fog across the ground, spreading as you grew louder, the lyrics from your childhood spilling out. It was a song that your mother used to sing to you when you two went to pick flowers for her to sell at the market. It was a bit of a sad song, but it was good for nights like this.

“High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts, the ones she had lost and the ones she had found, and the ones who had loved her the most...”

Pippin was smiling widely like an idiot. Merry and Sam had their jaws dropped. They’ve never heard you sing, and now they were both wondering why that was. They were entranced by your voice - but not as much as Frodo was. His mouth was closed, but he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“The ones who’d been gone for so very long, she couldn’t remember their names. They spun her around on the damp old stones, spun away all her sorrow and pain.”

Aragorn threw the chunks of meat into the boiling pot. Boromir crossed his legs as he sat on the ground and leaned in to listen. Frodo leaned away from you, his arm leaving your shoulders.

“And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave...”

Legolas leaned against a tree, his arms crossed in front of him. His eyes shone against the darkness, almost as bright as the fire beneath the pot.

“They danced through the day and into the night through the snow that swept through the hall, from winter to summer to winter again, till the walls did crumble and fall.”

Frodo got to his feet and took a couple of steps away from the fire. Sam had to quickly throw himself forward to stir the stew before it started to bubble over. Gimli came over, mumbling to himself, but stopped when he heard your singing.

“And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave...”

You finished the song and rested your hands on your lap, unsure of how to react to the scattering of applause that came from your companions. Well, from all except one of them. The important one. Frodo had walked away completely by the time your last note hit the air, and you looked at the way that he had gone. Sam picked up one of the potatoes left in your pile and started to peel, allowing you to get up and to follow your best friend. You found him by the river that you had camped near, running his fingers through the shallow water, his exposed toes just sunk under into the sand. The moonlight was enough light for you to see him fairly clearly. “Are you mad at me?”

“You kept a secret from me,” Frodo said, his voice as soft as ever. It was almost hard to tell that he was angry, or at least it was until he turned to face you. There was a snarl on his face, which took you offguard and you took a step backward. You had seen that face, but never was it geared towards you.

“It wasn’t exactly a secret, Frodo, I-” You knew that you had no real defense against this. It was something that you kept from him, for no good reason either.

“How long have you been singing with Pippin then?” He asked, his volume getting louder. He kicked at the water, making ripples in it which spread away from the shore.

“We’d just grab a tankard and then go by the lake,” You explained. “He loves to sing, you know that, and one night I just kinda ... I guess I joined him.”

“You just kind of joined him?” He shot back.

“It’s just singing, Frodo, it’s a hobby. Lots of people do it! It’s not like it’s against the law or anything! You’re acting as if we’ve slept together or something.” It started to seem like Frodo was just looking for a reason to get upset, and so you were getting mad in retaliation. How dare he be mad because you have a good singing voice! “I know that you’re stressed from this quest and all, but turning against your best friend because of a song is not the way to deal with that. I expect an apology.”

Frodo was clearly not expecting your attitude. He blinked his wide blue eyes a couple of times before looking down at his feet. “I just thought that we did everything together. I always told you everything.”

“And I tell you-”  You suddenly understood exactly why he was mad. You closed your mouth back up and hung your head. You took a deep breath before you would talk again. “It’s just singing. It’s not like I do it often. Only when I’m cleaning up around the house, really.”

“And when you’re out with Pippin somewhere, practicing!” Frodo said right back.

“A very short list.” You pointed out. “I wouldn’t even call it a hobby. But fine, when we destroy the ring and get back to the Shire and things to back to normal, I’ll sing more for you, how about that?”

“I’d like that,” Frodo said after some consideration. You smiled weakly, hoping that this was the end of the argument.

“I hate fighting with you, Frodo. I promise, I’ll never hide anything like this ever again. In that case, I should tell you something else.”

“What?” He asked, big eyes glowing crystal in the moonlight.

“I stole Merry’s mother’s recipe for strawberry tarts, and have been practicing them,” You said with a coy grin. “I planned on bringing you one once I get it perfect, but it hasn’t happened yet. I’ve gotten pretty close, though.”

“Strawberries...” Frodo said, his mouth beginning to water at the thought. It had been some time since he had a strawberry tart, and with the journey ahead of them, it looked like it would be even longer before he would have the pleasure.

“I suppose I’ll have to start up again the instant we get home,” You lit up, glad that your best friend seemed to be back to normal again. You shyly took his hand, which he squeezed in return, and headed back to the camp site in time to try the rabbit stew.

#Frodo #Frodo Baggins #Frodo Baggins x reader #Frodo Baggins oneshot #Lord of the Rings #Lord of the Rings oneshot #LOTR #LOTR oneshot #requested #oneshot

[garden-ghoul]

return of the blog, part 2

“...”

THE PASSING OF THE GREY COMPANY

Merry is hanging out with the tracking party, feeling a bit lost and very useless-baggage-y. What’s going to happen, Aragorn? Well, Aragorn is being very dramatic, bless him. “Do not look for mirth at the ending. It will be long, I fear, ere Théoden sits at ease again in Meduseld. Many hopes will wither in this bitter Spring.” Oh, Aragorn.

Four riders are trying to catch up to the Rohirrim; everyone is, of course, very suspicious, but it turns out the leader is Aragorn’s good old friend Halbarad, a ranger and Dunadan! And Elrond’s cool sons are with him! They brought thirty dudes to help in the war effort. Like I’m sure they’re very skilled and all but. Thirty dudes. You take what you can I guess. Apparently they received a summons from Galadriel after Gandalf was resurrected. Everyone is back at Helm’s Deep now (I missed them actually going there), mainly I mention this because there now exists a place called THE DEATH DOWN, where the huorns killed just massive amounts of people.

Theoden is holding one last feast before they all go to war; he tells Merry he shall ride with him!

‘May I?’ said Merry, surprised and delighted. ‘That would be splendid!’ He had never felt more grateful for any kindness in words. ‘I am afraid I am only in everybody’s way,’ he stammered; ‘but I should like to do anything I could, you know.’

He’s such a good kid. Theoden says he’s going to be king’s squire! Not sure why, the eve of a colossal war is not really the best time to be sparing people’s feelings of uselessness. Or maybe he’s trying to free up whoever is his current squire to kill some people? You don’t do that sort of thing for no reason is all I’m saying. Anyway, in a stupendously clear parallel to last chapter, Merry lays his sword at Theoden’s feet and swears fealty. I loove the contrast between Pippin swearing fealty to a lord he doesn’t really like out of obligation and gratitude; and then Merry swearing fealty to a lord he very much admires out of a desperation to somehow be useful. Pippin’s rather awe-filled reception at Minas Tirith contrasts with Merry’s anxieties about being a burden. Then there’s this:

‘As a father you shall be to me,’ said Merry.

‘For a little while,’ said Théoden.

AWKWARD. Merry why must you. Anyway Aragorn comes up and tells Theoden he’s going to take the Paths of the Dead (everyone in earshot shivers) despite having said a couple paragraphs ago that he would have to be REALLY DESPERATE to do that. Theoden’s company rides off; Aragorn is like “wow I love Merry so much, he’s such a good and important person.” And everyone else agrees: “hobbits are super important and I love them.” I think it’s supposed to stand in contrast to Merry’s own poor opinion of himself, but I’m not really sure why they have such a high opinion of him. Just because he’s brave? Shrug. Aragorn also says he looked into the palantir and had a staring contest with Sauron to wig him out. “I’m the heir of Elendil,” he said. “Here’s Narsil! Right here! Remember her, motherfucker?” And Sauron, reportedly, went “Oh fuck.”

Then Aragorn explains why he’s going thru the Paths of the Dead. You probably know already, so I won’t relate it here. There is a seer involved though, which is pretty cool. Some oathbreaking. Very Numenorean honestly, these dead Men of the Mountains remind me of the Faithless, in that the reason for their oathbreaking is a new unexpected allegiance to Sauron. And with that exposition, the “greay company” is off! For some reason they make it to Edoras long before Theoden does, and Aragorn comes to say hi to Eowyn. 

When she heard of the battle in Helm’s Deep and the great slaughter of their foes, and of the charge of Théoden and his knights, then her eyes shone.

I see what gogol means. Eowyn is gay for Deeds. She also conceptualizes being the ruler of Edoras and sorta Rohan as “exile,” because WHY would you want to rule anything when you could be killing people??? The next time we hear a description of Eowyn it’s that “her eyes were on fire.” Why did baby ghoul relate so much to Eowyn? Up until now I thought it was because she was the only TV lady who had freckles like me, but actually maybe it was her nebulous gender dysphoria and frustration. She is SO frustrated. First she offers to ride with Aragorn on his death errand. He refuses her; she’s the ruler of the Mark. BITTER. BITTER BITTER BITTER. WHY DOES EOWYN ALWAYS GET LEFT BEHIND? IS SHE NOT A SHIELD-MAIDEN? This is a good exchange:

‘A time may come soon,’ said he, ‘when none will return. Then there will be need of valour without renown, for none shall remember the deeds that are done in the last defence of your homes. Yet the deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised.’

And she answered: ‘All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.’

Get him, Eowyn. I mean, it IS essential to make sure non-combatants in Rohan stay safe and such, but Eowyn is right that she shouldn’t be forced into the unpraised deeds just because she’s a woman. Before you say such things, Aragorn, maybe start a culture of praising valiant deeds that don’t involve killing anyone?? Then we’ll talk.

Once again as Aragorn’s company rides away we get the same exact image of Eowyn standing and watching them go... this time filled with tension and anger, her fists clenched and tears in her eyes. Aragorn is sad about it. Whatever, dude. We timeskip to the entrance of the Path of the Dead, where the Dunedain are gentlly coaxing their horses in through the awful doorway. Legolas has to enchant his horse to get it to go in. Gimli is left alone outside, possibly the only one who feels so viscerally how wrong this underground passage is compared to what it should be. I think his fear is greater for the fact that he has never felt uneasy underground before; it’s like home, perverted into something dreadful. As they go forward Aragorn calls the dead. No-one answers, but Legolas can see them riding behind. As they ride through Morthond Vale I am getting the impression that there are living humans there? And they are afraid because, like, the king of the dead. Aragorn and co ride hell for leather for the Stone of Erech.

The Stone of Erech is an enormous black sphere, half buried in the ground, that for some reason was brought out of Numenor. Like... you didn’t have anything better to bring on your ships than an enormous black sphere of stone? Anyway this is the site of the oath that was broken, and now the dead are ready to fulfill it and have peace after like 3000 years. “When all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled,” he says. Which is pretty harsh. Like, what if a hundred years from now there’s just one servant of Sauron remaining? That would just suck for everyone. Also he unfurls a banner Arwen made for him, which is apparently black on black. Love it. Very stylish. So that’s the muster of the dead. What about

THE MUSTER OF ROHAN?

This bit is confusing because I thought it was going to be Pippin POV but then as soon as they mentioned the Rohirrim had made it to Gondor it turned into Merry POV. I never have a good intuition for what things Tolkien will think it’s reasonable to skip... Wait no they didn’t make it to Gondor. They just about made it to Edoras. This is very confusing and I have poor reading comprehension. The point is Merry is sad and lonely because everyone’s speaking Rohir or whatever and he misses all his friends and absolutely everyone he knows. The party reaches Harrowdale and climbs up a super steep path for some reason; it’s lined with Pukel Men, monoliths carved into a human shape. Ahhhh I love standing stones, Heck I love standing stones. They’re from the “dark years” (when Numenor was still going on and thus Real People weren’t in Middle Earth ::P) and some unknown people made this place, Dunharrow. OH. Here’s Eowyn! The reason they’re here is because Edoras has been evacuated, and Theoden wanted to check on his people.

While Theoden and his peeps are having dinner a messenger from Gondor comes in and Merry is like BOROMIR??? WTF. But no, he just can’t tell Gondorians apart haha. Also what was the point of the beacons if Denethor was just going to send a messenger straight to Theoden. Theoden promises 6000 guys (not bad! that’s twice the entire Gondor) in one week, though the messenger says a week will probably be too late. Still, he says sarcastically, maybe you can disturb the orcs feasting on our corpses.

Merry wakes up the next day in the darkness; the sun will not rise today. Or if it does nobody will see it, because Sauron has sent a great wave of black clouds across the sky to embolden his troops. Dreamy. Theoden is releasing Merry from his service (yes, after three days, what a copout) to serve Eowyn here while she rules the noncombatant Rohirrim. Merry is. Sad. He wants to help! Even if he has to be tied to a horse! But no dice. Eowyn takes him off to arm himself anyway. Thanks Eowyn you are a true bro. As Theoden’s company leaves, they sing a song that is clearly based on Anglo Saxon epic poetry, and also I believe was not meant to be sung. So. Minus points, Johnald. It doesn’t sound like a song, it doesn’t scan like a song. It’s a nice poem, though. A nice lad called Dernhelm offers to bear Merry on his horse and hide him since Theoden won’t take him. Thanks for showing us Eowyn’s exact transition goals, it’s good.

#blog of the rings