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#behold aragorn's Choices
sesamenom · 7 months
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Aragorn and Arwen taking a walk through Minas Tirith (she's venting about how maglor disappeared again right before el&el were going to drag him to valinor)
(Aragorn has a very good fashion sense, if he was a Noldorin ambassador living in Numenor during the Late Elros Era. Arwen is also very stylish for early Doriathrim royalty. The rest of Gondor got used to it eventually.)
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peetamymuse · 2 years
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Hope Without Guarantees
I've been rewatching the Lord of the Rings movies and the original "appendices" DVDs that came with the extended versions. It's mostly so that I can refresh myself on the cinematic world of the Lord of Rings and give the Amazon Rings of Power series a fair chance despite the many (many) ways it deviates from the source matter.
Anyway, I was reminded of Tolkien's phrase hope without guarantees--moving forward with a positive spirit, not in a bittersweet or hesitant way, but fully and completely even though the end might be uncertain.
And that got me thinking about Arwen and Aragorn. When Arwen chose death and the fate of mortals she was really choosing life. She focused on having children with the person she loved and not the eventual outcome. For someone with the choice of immortality, that's insanely brave.
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In a world of epic battles between good and evil, choosing love and family seems even more shocking. It's almost mundane and that somehow makes it extraordinary, to carve out this bit of normalcy in a world that just went through such horror.
Did death come for Arwen? Yes.
Was it tragedic to behold the evening star of her people fade? Yes.
Was it worth it?
I believe that she would say yes, despite how bitter the gift of men was to receive. And of course, this is the theme of Tolkien's work: hope over despair.
And that got me thinking about the Hunger Games and the end of the trilogy. I feel like some people have this twisted view of Katniss at the end of the trilogy. They see her life as a kind of ultimate defeat. In their opinion, Katniss lost everything, including her choice of future. In this interpretation, Peeta is a consolation prize, a poor abused puppy she doesn't necessarily want, but that needs her.
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I think this interpretation is bull.
It takes immense strength to choose hope over despair. And it was the choice Katiness made. Throughout the series, Katniss was stripped of her agency, but when she got up and planted flowers in the ashes of her District?
That was a choice.
She had examples of giving up that she could have followed: her mother, Haymitch in his drinking. She could have walked into the forest and never turned back. She could have done anything.
She chose to stay and rebuild.
That was probably one of the first real choices she made without any kind of coercion (poverty, fear, Peeta in danger, the hopes of the rebellion).
And then to love and bear children without a single guarantee that the future would be safe? I only wish I had that kind of strength.
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ao3feed-tolkien · 2 years
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in every wood in every spring there is a different green
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/7Xm94D8
by stranglerfig
Arwen has spent her life proving who she is: to her family, to the world, to herself. No one has ever understood her without a fight.
Except Estel.
~*~
What does it mean to choose your destiny?
Words: 19644, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M
Characters: Arwen Undómiel, Aragorn | Estel, Elrond Peredhel, Sons of Elrond, Galadriel | Artanis, Gilraen (Tolkien), Bilbo Baggins
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel
Additional Tags: Trans Male Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Arwen, Trans Aragorn, that's right it's T4T Awen/Aragorn folks!!, no you never knew you needed it yes you do in fact need it, behold my masterwork, Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Except for aforementioned transness of course, Delving into Arwen's family dynamics, And Aragorn being raised in Rivendell, Letters and pining and true love and the power of choice over destiny baby!
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/7Xm94D8
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thorinds · 3 years
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Tolkien Week 2021 | Week One, Day Five: Free Choice - From Page to Screen
"Behold the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings!" cried Aragorn. "We shall pass them soon. Keep the boats in line, and as far apart as you can! Hold the middle of the stream!" 
As Frodo was borne towards them the great pillars rose like towers to meet him. Giants they seemed to him, vast grey figures silent but threatening. Then he saw that they were indeed shaped and fashioned: the craft and power of old had wrought upon them, and they still preserved through the suns and rains of forgotten years the mighty likenesses in which they had been hewn. Upon great pedestals founded in the deep waters stood two great kings of stone: still with blurred eyes and crannied brows they frowned upon the North. The left hand of each was raised palm outwards in gesture of warning; in each right hand there was an axe; upon each head there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished kingdom […]. Even Boromir bowed his head as the boats whirled by, frail and fleeting as little leaves, under the enduring shadow of the sentinels of Númenor. So they passed into the dark chasm of the Gates. 
"Fear not!" said a strange voice behind him. Frodo turned and saw Strider, and yet not Strider; for the weather-worn Ranger was no longer there. In the stern sat Aragorn son of Arathorn, proud and erect, guiding the boat with skilful strokes; his hood was cast back, and his dark hair was blowing in the wind, a light was in his eyes: a king returning from exile to his own land. 
"Fear not!" he said. "Long have I desired to look upon the likenesses of Isildur and Anárion, my sires of old. Under their shadow Elessar, the Elfstone son of Arathorn of the house of Valandil Isildur's son, heir of Elendil, has nought to dread!"
- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
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warrioreowynofrohan · 3 years
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Today in Tolkien - March 15th
Today is the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, and it’s hard to know what to say about it because all the events are already so well-known to readers of The Lord of the Rings. But I’m going to try to situate things more clearly in time, because one of the things I noticed on this read is how fast everything happens - when Aragorn arrives it is still only mid-morning.
It should also be noted that the Battle of the Pelennor Fields is not the only battle of the day: Thranduil and the elves of Mirkwood defeat the forces of Dol Guldur in the Battle under the Trees, and Lothlórien repels the second assault by enemy forces.
Pre-Dawn
In the night, Frodo and Sam gather gear and food and make their escape from the Tower of Cirith Ungol. Their escape from the main gate produces a cry from the Watchers, and a Nazgûl dives down in response, but they are not spotted by it and escape down the road, then jump off a bridge of stone into thorn-bushes. They rest a while and then move northwards alone a ravine; they are in the Morgai, the foothills of the mountains of Mordor.
Aragorn with the ships of the Corsairs comes near the city:
“At midnight hope was indeed born anew. Sea-crafty men of the Ethir gazing southward spoke of a change coming with a fresh wind from the Sea. Long ere day the masted ships hoisted sail, and our speed grew, until dawn whitened the foam at our prows.”
The assault on the main gate of Minas Tirith begins:
Far behind the battle the River had been swiftly bridged, and all day more force and gear of war had poured across. Now at last in the middle night the assault was loosed. The vanguard passed theough the trenches of fire by many devious paths that had been left between them. On they came, reckless of their loss as they approached, still bunched and herded, within the range of bowmen on the wall. But indeed there were too few now left there to do them great damage, though the lught of the fires showed up many a mark for archers of such skill as Gondor pnce had boasted. Then perceiving that the valour of the City was already beaten down, the hidden Captain put forth his strength. Slowly the great siege-towers built in Osgiliath rolled forward through the dark.
At the same time, the news that the first circle of the city is burning and men have abandoned the walls is the final straw that drives Denethor fully to despair, and produces his choice to burn both himself and Faramir to death. Pippin follows him to the tombs of the stewrads and kings, and when Denethor gives the orders for the pyre Pippin at last understands what he intends. He first tells one of the servants on guard to move slowly and not bring fire, then tells Beregond what is going on, and then runs to find Gandalf. He has to run a long ways, since the Silent Street is in the sixth circle and Gandalf is at the Great Gate in the first circle. And as he arrives the gates of the city are broken.
In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed up, griwn to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face.
All save one. There waiting, silent and still in the space before the Gate, sat Gandalf upon Shadowfax: Shadowfax who alone among the free horses of the earth endured the terror, unmoving, steadfast as a graven image in Rath Dînen.
“You cannot enter here,” said Gandalf, and the huge shadow halted. “Go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!”
The Black Rider flung back his hood, and behold! he had a kingly crown; and yet upon no head visible was it set. The red fires shone between it and the mantled shoulders vast and dark. From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter.
“Old fool!” he said. “Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!” And with that he lifted high his sword and flames ran down the blade.
Gandalf did not move. And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the City, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, recking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of war was coming with the dawn.
And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin’s sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last.
This whole passage is exceptional, but I have to draw attention to that third-last line, heralding the coming of the Rohirrim with the same alliteration (“In dark Mindolluin’s sides they dimly echoed.”) that is characteristic of their poetry. This is Tolkien at the height of his craft.
Dawn
The Rohirrim ride from the forest to the city during the night. The arrangement of the battlefield is as follows: first the out-wall of the Pelennor, the Rammas Echor, with breaches in it from the army of Mordor’s attack; then enemy armies; trenches of fire around the city, with gaps in them for siege engines; more enemy armies; and then the city wall. The Rammas Echor is largely unguarded, its forces having been drawn off for the attack on the city. (The Rammas Echor here is still about 3 leagues, or 9 miles, from the city.)
The Rohirrim, split into three groups for easier mobility, pass the Rammas Echor, and hear the ram break the gates of the city, and at that moment they blow their horns and charge.
Morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and hooves of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City.
Frodo and Sam also see the darkness break:
Away to their left, southward, against a sky that was turning grey, the peaks and high ridges of the great range began to appear dark and black, visible shapes. Light was growing behind them. Slowly it crept toward the North. There was battle far above in the high spaces of the air. The billowing clouds of Mordor were being driven back, their edges tattering as a wind out of the living world came and swept the fumes and smokes towards the dark land of their home. Under the lifting skirts of the dreary canopy dim light leaked into Mordor like pale morning through thr grimed windows of a prison.
“Look at it, Mr Frodo!” said Sam. “Look at it! The wind’s changed. Something’s happening. He’s not having it all his own way. His darkness is breaking up out in the world there. I wish I could see what is going on!”
Morning
It would be far too long to describe in detail all the events of the morning - Théoden’s victories and death, Eowyn slaying the Witch-king, the battles against the mûmakil, and the arrival (still at mid-morning - about 9am, “the third hour of the morning” as Gimli later tells it) of Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, the Dúnedain, and the men of South Gondor in the ships of the Corsairs, suddenly displaying the standard of the King of Gondor to the dismay of their foes.
Pippin brings Gandalf to the tombs of the kings, and Denethor burns, and Faramir is saved. All this happens rapidly too; it is all over by the time they hear the death-cry of the Lord of the Nazgûl. Pippin find Merry and brings him to the Houses of Healing, and Eowyn too is brought there, and Faramir is there already.
Frodo and Sam follow an orc-path northward from the ravine, and almost-miraculously find water.
Afternoon
The afternoon is much more briefly told than the morning. The Battle of the Pelennor Fields continues until sunset, while Gandalf waits with the patients at the Houses of Healing. Frodo and Sam move east through the Morgai, and then rest and eat.
Evening
Gandalf bring Aragorn to the Houses of Healing, where Aragorn heals Faramir, Eowyn, and Merry. And then through the night he goes to the houses throughout Minas Tirith where there are wounded people, and heals them, as do Elladan and Elrohir.
Frodo sleeps, and Sam keeps watch for a time.
Far above the Ephel Dúath in the West the night-sky was still dim and pale. There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. His song in the Tower had been defiance rather than hope; for then he was thinking of himself. Now, for a moment, his own fate, and even his master’s, ceased to trouble him. He crawled back into the brambles and laid himself by Frodo’s side , and putting away all fear he cast himself into a deep untroubled sleep.
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Eomer ~ It Is My Secret
1,300 Followers Challenge!
Round 2
Masterlist
Requested by Anon
Words: 1,954
Warnings: Neutral Winged Reader, smidge of angst, mentions of battle and war, awkward fluff, suggested soul mates
Eomer sat on the steps of Edoras, his head resting on his hands as he watched his people start to put things back together.  He was glad that Saruman's army had never made it this far, the battle of Helms Deep still very fresh in his mind, but there was another reason why he sat there and dwelled on it.
He learnt from Aragorn that they had been desperate, that they were down to their last efforts in riding the invaders, charging out from the main hall.  They had arrived just in time with their charge.
But he, and none of his men had expected the sight before them.
It wasn’t the army, no, Gandalf had warned them well enough of what was coming.  It was the bright, burning, white-gold light that was shining from Helms Deep, the uruk-hai cowering before it, barely registering the other army now before them. Eomer had sworn that there was a figure within that light, but as the sun crested over the hill, it all blended together, and within what felt like moments, that battle was over.
The thought of the figure was pushed from his mind for a little while, at least, that was until he saw you walking towards Gandalf.
His breath was stolen from him almost instantly.  You were beautiful, of that he had no doubt, a soft glow seeming to surround you, but what really drew his gaze was the large white wings that were folded neatly at your back.  In all his years, he had never seen anything quite like it, and yet, it just added to the feelings already filling his chest.
Your gaze met his as you talked to Gandalf, and he thought that all time had stopped.  Without a doubt he suddenly knew that it was you he’d seen on the battlements, sending forth your light, arms spread wide into the waning night, burning and startling the gazes of the enemy so that the others could have a fighting chance.
He had to speak to you.
Theoden saw him looking and called him over, introducing you. Eomer fought to keep his gaze on yours as they talked, but now that he was closer, your wings were even more illuminating.  He greatly had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them.
It was as they talked though, as you discussed what was to come next, that he realised that something was different about the way they watched you compared to what he felt.  Surely when someone with such an ethereal feel to them would draw all sorts of wonder from their gazes?  No matter how long they had known you, surely there would still be some sort of recognisable look that they would give you, especially when your wings just flowed so easily as part of you, as if you weren’t even aware they were there.
Slowly, it dawned on him, that they could not see them.
So as you went your separate ways to begin regathering the people, to begin the long road to cleaning up and preparing for what was next, he made a promise to himself that he would find you and talk to you where no other ears could listen.
Eomer got his chance quite by accident, carrying some supplies into a room to be sorted, and finding you already there alone, going through some items.
He’d bowed politely.  “Apologies to barge in, I, ah, just had these to bring in.”
Your smile made his heart race.  “That’s quite alright.  Just put them in the corner over there, I’ll get to it all slowly.”
Eomer’s face went red, he could feel it, but he did as you asked. He should’ve left then, should’ve just waited for another time, but as he watched you, as he admired your wings again in such close quarters, he couldn’t help himself.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” He said quietly, earning your gaze again.  “What are you?”
You frowned for a moment, the question taking you by surprise, before you looked at him.  It was quiet a hard look, surprising him, but he felt no ill intent towards it. “You…can see me?”
Eomer nods, unsure of how else to take this reaction.
Your mouth opened for a moment, before it closed again and you hummed thoughtfully, eyeing him carefully.  “What exactly can you see?”
“Your wings,” He whispered, the moment feeling so strange, his eyes wandering to them.  “They are…unlike anything I have ever seen before.  It is a wonder to behold.  You-you are a wonder to behold.”
This seemed to you back even more, your frown deepening, and he couldn’t help but suddenly feel like he’d unintentionally crossed some sort of line.
“I am not used to people being able to see me,” You said, a little wearily.  “Not unless I choose to do so.  This is…an unexpected development.”
“Why would you wish to hide this?”  Eomer asked without thinking.  “Why would-”
“My reasons are my own,” You said quickly, cutting him off. “And I must ask that you do not mention this to anyone Eomer, not until I have had time to think this over.”
A momentary panic filled him.  “If I have upset you-”
“You haven’t,” You said.  “It’s just...a surprise.  I would never have expected this to happen.”
“But-”
“We can talk some more later,” You said, something pained crossing your expression for a brief moment.  “Please, Eomer, I just need some time.”
He had left you be, against the own judgement and aching of his heart.  It was then a long few days through Helms Deep and traveling back to Edoras.  Too often he found himself watching you, and more than once your gaze had met his and he’d had to force himself to look away. Your wings glowed in the sunlight as you rode ahead of him, and he had all but committed the sight to memory.
Now, as he sat watching his people slowly recover, he wondered whether you would actually ever talk to him again, whether there could have been something different he could have done.  You’d been avoiding him since your return here.
There is a soft chuckle and Eomer finally looks up, finding Eowyn watching him with a gentle smile.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so pensive before.  Is there someone you would like to talk about?”
Eomer rolls his eyes and looks back out.  “No.”
Eowyn steps next to him.  “I’m sure that it cannot be that bad.  I have not seen you this miserable in a long time.”
“Miserable?”  He asked, and slowly, it dawned on him.  He was, he was utterly miserable that you weren’t talking to him, that whatever had happened had been left so open.  Eomer didn’t understand it and it only made him question more why you were having such an effect on him.
She sits next to him, a gentle hand resting on his arm. “Are you alright brother?”
Eomer lets out a slow breath, pushing his hair back and rubbing his neck.  “I do not know.  I do not know what is happening to me.  Perhaps it is these times…or perhaps I said something wrong.  I just do not know.”
“If that is the case,” Eowyn said.  “Then would not words solve the problem.”
He wished he had an answer for that, because for all he knew, you would never speak to him again.
“I hate upsetting the nice one.”  He muttered under his breath. “I hate it.  This should not be that difficult.”
Tension shot up his back as someone cleared their throat behind them, only to turn and see you standing there, looking a little sheepish, and giving a polite bow.  “Lady Eowyn, may I talk with Lord Eomer privately for a moment?”
Eowyn’s smile said everything as she gets up.  “Of course. Perhaps you can pull him from his misery.”
Eomer suddenly wanted Eowyn to come back as you joined him.  Silence dragged on for a long moment, silence in which he observed you from the corner of his eye, watching as you quietly seemed to wait.
“I am sorry if I was short with you the other day,” You said, just as he thought he was about to snap. “It was not my intention.  I am…not used to people being able to see me. For most, I am simply another human, and it is often much simpler to offer only that.”
You let out a slow breath and give him a kind smile.  “I would also not have expected to find one like you in such a time, as dark as it is becoming.”
“One such as me?” Eomer asked, frowning slightly.
“Yes,” You nod, but look away.  “Perhaps once this over, I can explain more, but for now, know that you have done nothing wrong Eomer.”
He finally seemed to relax, feeling an ache lifted from his chest, and he couldn’t help but look at you gratefully.  “If I was too direct…”
You shook your head. “You could not have known. Knowledge of what I am was lost to many of you long ago, and thus, I think it may be safer to remain.  Just know that I will not be far from your side should you need me.”
Eomer felt himself flush, but before he could help himself, he slid closer to you, a gentle hand resting on your knee.  “Do not burden yourself so, especially not in times like this.  I am here for you, because you have already shown you are there for everyone.”
A little chuckle leaves you and your hand rests atop his.  “In this matter, I do not have a choice, nor would I wish it any other way. We are bound on a path forward Eomer, and I know you wish more of an answer to that, I know you feel it as I do, but for now, that must be enough.”
“It is,” He said, his eyes flicking between yours before they wander to your wings, still sitting so easily behind you.  “When we have won this war…”
You smiled softly and before he can ask anything else, you unfurled one of your wings and wrapped it around him, pushing both of you closer together.
A small shiver goes through him as stares at the white feathers, feeling just how soft it was pressed against him, his hand almost reaching out to touch it before he met your gaze again.
“Here,” You said softly, handing him a single white feathers, it feeling oddly warm in his hands. “Others cannot see it, but I would still keep it secret.  It is my secret, one I am now trusting you with. There are still things that can reveal me, and that can become a danger if we are not careful.”
Eomer stares at the feather for a long moment, his fingers brushing through it, feeling it against his fingertips and almost entirely speechless on receiving such a gift.  “I will keep it.”
“Good,” You leaned over and kissed his cheek gently, making him freeze.  “Then we shall leave it as that for now.  When things are over, when we find ourselves alone again, then I shall say more.”
With that, you stood and stepped away, leaving Eomer sitting there in a quiet, stunned silence, unsure now of what to do with himself.  Your feather span in his fingers and he watched it catch the light, much like your wings did, his heart singing more than what it ever had.
He smiled and tucked it neatly away, close to heart, before he stood and followed after you, knowing that the time had come to discuss the coming war.
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guardianofrivendell · 4 years
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PERFECT SECRETS - CHAPTER 3
Legolas x OC
Requested: Nope
Summary:  Mira. A short and unusual name for a short and unusual Elf. After an audience with Galadriel goes sideways, she leaves her birthplace Lóthlorien and the Elves for good.  That is until a certain Gandalf asks for a favor. Come along on her journey, as she reluctantly agrees to accompany Gandalf on the quest to destroy the One Ring.  She befriends every Fellowship member, except one. Legolas and Mira are water and fire from the very first moment they laid eyes on each other. Will this be an obstacle during the quest or is it going to make everything just a little more interesting?
Warnings: None, just men being men. 
Masterlist Perfect Secrets
THE COUNCIL OF ELROND
While Gandalf and Mira climbed the stairs, she asked him why he had summoned her. Gandalf wouldn’t say, only telling her to be patient and that everything would be cleared up at the ‘Council of Elrond’. 
When the pair reached the top of the stairs, they were welcomed by Lord Elrond.
The Council hadn’t begun yet, and Mira was a bit surprised to see more people than she expected to be at a secret meeting. A delegation of Elves, Dwarves, Men and one small Hobbit were seated in a circle, around a rock with a flattened surface. 
They were looking towards her and Gandalf. She could hear them mutter amongst themselves asking who the hooded lady was. She smirked confidently. Let them guess, she thought. They’ll never know. 
Elrond gestured to take a seat in the two remaining empty chairs, one next to the Hobbit and one between Legolas and the other Elves. Did Elrond suspect something?
Mira looked back at him, but he had already turned around to take a stand at the head of the circle. Gandalf took the seat next to the Halfling, whispering a few words into his ear. She hesitated for a few seconds, before walking around the outside of the circle to the wall of the building, feeling the eyes of everyone piercing her back. She turned around and leaned with her back against the wall, arms crossed, one foot over the other. 
It was her way to say she didn’t belong to the Elves nor Men, keeping the mystery alive. Plus she preferred to be in the background anyways. Gandalf nodded at Elrond, signaling that the Council could begin.
“Strangers from distant lands, friends and old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it, you will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to its fate; this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo,” Elrond asked the small Hobbit. Frodo stood up and carefully placed a small golden ring on the centered rock. 
“So it’s true,” one of the Men gasped, his eyes fixed on the ring. “In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: your doom is near at hand. Isildur’s Bane is found.” He was on his feet now, and got dangerously close to the ring. 
“Boromir!” Elrond warned him. He sat down at once. 
“Frodo, will you tell us how this ring came to you and the troubles you have faced already?” Gandalf asked the Hobbit. Everyone listened to his story, how he inherited the ring from Bilbo, that he had encountered Black Riders, fought against them and got stabbed by a Morgul Blade in the process. 
Mira had listened to him intently. It was remarkable how such a small being had endured so much in so little time, there was no doubt this was the One Ring. Hobbits never cease to amaze her.
The sky turned dark and ominous. Gandalf’s voice became deeper, there was a strange echo when he spoke. The moment he spoke the first words, Mira got a splitting headache. 
“Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul” (One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them)
Mira shook her head, trying to get rid of the headache. She didn’t want anyone to notice something was wrong, but she recognized the pained expressions from the other Elves. She was not the only one who felt it. 
As soon as Gandalf finished, the sky cleared and so did the headache.
Lord Elrond gasped, definitely not happy with Gandalf’s actions.
“Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!”
“I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil!”
Well, he does have a point there, Mira thought to herself. Gandalf had been right, they were on the verge of war. If they had the One Ring, Sauron would do anything to get it back. 
“It is a gift. A gift from the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of my people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!” Boromir demanded. 
“You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master,” the ranger answered him. 
“And what would a ranger know of this matter?” Boromir sneered back. 
At this point, Legolas stood up from his chair. 
“This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.”
“This is Isildur’s heir?” Boromir asked, just as Mira thought the exact same thing.
“And heir to the throne of Gondor,” Legolas countered confidently. 
Mira would say it was more arrogant than confident but maybe she was a bit biased. 
“Havo dad, Legolas,” Aragorn said to him, trying to calm him down. (Sit down) Legolas obeyed, but kept a stern look on Boromir. Mira could tell the tension was building. It wouldn’t take much before they’d start killing each other. She hadn’t missed the angry glances between the Elves and Dwarves. 
“Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king,” Boromir muttered angrily before taking a seat again. His attitude was starting to get on Mira’s nerves. What was it with men and their pride, always wanting to have the last word?
“Aragorn is right. We cannot use it,” Elrond intervened, trying to clear the tension. “You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” One of the Dwarves jumped out of his seat and tried to destroy the Ring, shattering his axe in the process. 
Mira chuckled, noticing the stunned expression of the Dwarf upon seeing his ruined axe. She liked this one, he was straightforward and didn’t hesitate. 
“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloín, by any craft that we here possess,” Elrond said to him. “The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm of whence it came. One of you must do this.”
He looked around the circle, but there was no reaction. 
Boromir sighed heavily. “One does not simply walk into Mordor.” 
He continued warning everyone about the dangers Mordor held for anyone who dared to cross the Black Gates. Legolas interrupted him, clearly fed up with the man of Gondor. 
“Have you heard nothing of what Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!”
“Well yes, Elf Boy, we all heard that,” Mira muttered silently, rolling her eyes. She knew he would be the only one to hear it. Legolas’ head snapped in her direction, his eyes shooting daggers at her. Before he could say something, Gimli interrupted.
“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it?” he shouted angrily at Legolas. “I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an Elf!”
Mira had to admit that was taking it a bit too far. She might be hiding the fact that she was an Elf, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t proud of being one. The others took this as their cue to start arguing. Even Gandalf and Elrond took part in the fight, which surprised her. She had taken a few steps away from the wall, so she was ready to intervene if necessary. 
The only one who wasn’t participating was Frodo, he was still in his chair seemingly deep in thought. Mira also stayed out of the argument, and kept an eye on everyone in the room. 
All of a sudden Frodo’s eyes focused again and he said, “I will take it!”
Nobody except Gandalf and Mira had heard him. Gandalf closed his eyes in defeat, clearly not happy with the Hobbit’s suggestion.
“I will take the Ring to Mordor,” Frodo repeated, finally getting everyone’s attention. His expression changed once he noticed everyone staring at him, almost looking shy. “Though I do not know the way.”
Gandalf kneeled in front of him, placing his hand on his shoulder. 
“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.”
Frodo looked very grateful. He should be, Mira thought, it was a very dangerous task and he should accept all the help he could get. She did think it was very brave of him to volunteer. Stupid too. But brave nonetheless. 
In the next few minutes, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir had offered their help as well. Mira couldn’t help but notice Legolas’ smirk when he looked at her. Was he challenging her? 
“Oi! Mister Frodo is not going anywhere without me!” Another Hobbit was coming out of the bushes, rushing towards the group. 
Elrond looked sternly at him, but Mira could see a hint of a smile. 
“No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.”
Mira crossed her arms again, and leaned back against the wall behind her. The group standing before Elrond was a sight to behold. Wizards, Men, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits, every race was represented. Who would have thought this to be possible?
“Seven companions-”, Elrond started but was interrupted by yet another pair of Hobbits who came running from behind the pillars in the back. 
“Wait! We are coming too!” They rushed to Frodo’s side. Mira smiled, she was certain these Hobbits would give Gandalf a hard, but interesting time during their quest. 
“You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!” one of them said proudly, crossing his arms.
The blond Hobbit wanted to say something smart too, and added, “Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing.”
“Well, that rules you out, Pip,” his friend was quick to answer. Mira snorted. 
Elrond opened his arms. “Nine companions-”
“Lord Elrond, if you please,” Gandalf interrupted him. Mira half expected Elrond to drop his arms at his side and just give up speaking altogether, but his expression didn’t even falter. Impressive.
“I do believe there is someone else who would be wise to join us,” Gandalf spoke, looking directly at Mira. 
Mira’s eyes widened. No, he wouldn’t, would he? She even looked behind her, forgetting she was leaning against a wall, to check if there was a chance he didn’t mean her. 
“Mira, my dear. Don’t keep us waiting,” he said warmly. 
She froze, frantically trying to think of an excuse, any excuse not to join them. 
“A woman?” Boromir laughed. “You can’t be serious! Does she even know how to fight?”
That comment made something stir within her. Wasn’t it enough that Legolas had been acting like he did towards her, and now another man had to doubt her skills?
In less than a split second she had drawn her two knives from her boots and threw them towards Boromir, effectively pinning his cape to the railing of the balcony behind him, without even scratching Legolas and the Hobbits, who were all standing in very close proximity. It did not only show her skills with a knife, but her strength as well since the railing was made out of stone. 
“I can assure you, Boromir, that Mira knows exactly how to defend herself. Best not to get on her bad side,” Gandalf chuckled. Mira stepped towards Boromir and pulled her knives out of the railing, keeping her eyes fixed on Legolas’ the whole time, as if to say “Did you see that?”.
Elrond cleared his throat, opening his arms for the third time. Before he started, he looked at Gandalf, who nodded at him. 
“Ten companions… so be it! You shall be known as the Fellowship of the Ring!”
A/N: I have a taglist now! Send me an ask if you want to be added!
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atariince · 4 years
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Hi! The same Anon here: yes, I'm in!!! And what can you say about Galadriel and Finrod, you mentioned that there are parallels between both, what did you mean? I know that Finrod wanted lands to rule the same as Galadriel...
Great! I’ll make a little announcement here about my Twitch channel when everything will be ready (probably within two weeks or so).
Now, concerning your request, I must warn you first, my answer, which takes the form of painstaking yet not exhaustive analysis, will be quite long, but (I hope!) not too tedious. 
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[Finrod’s heraldry by J.R.R Tolkien, 1960, MS. Tolkien Drawings 91, fol. 29)
Felagund and Galadriel are alike in many ways, especially in their respective evolution, even though those two characters have quite different motives and temperaments. 
We’ve already talked a lot about Galadriel in my last post, so I won’t repeat it. As for Finrod, we know he was “like his father in his fair face and golden hair, and also noble and generous heart, though he has the high courage of the Noldor and in his youth their eagerness and unrest” (UT 2 Ch. IV). Both Galadriel and Finrod were proud, “as were all the descendants of Finwë save Finarfin”, “and like her brother Finrod, of all her kin the nearest to her heart, she had dreams of far lands and dominions that might be her own to order as she would without tutelage” (UT2, Ch. IV). 
Yet, although, Finrod “had also from his Telerin mother a love of the sea and dreams of far lands that he had never seen”, he wasn’t so eager to leave Valinor during the Rebellion of the Noldor:
“But at the rear went Finarfin and Finrod, and many of the noblest and wisest of the Noldor; and often they looked behind them to see their fair city…” (The Silmarillion, Ch. 9)
Whereas Galadriel “was eager to be gone” for the reasons we have already seen. 
We can probably say they share this desire to rule over a kingdom of their own, even though it seems stronger in Galadriel, while her brother appears to be driven mostly by loyalty towards his cousins and his curiosity.
But beyond their temperament, there is a whole narrative arc that corresponds both to Finrod and Galadriel, and in order to try to keep it as clear as possible, we’ll go step by step…
Foresight : Fate and free-will
You have probably noticed that they both have the gift of foresight, which is mentioned, strangely enough, in two very different settings, and yet, the meaning of their words are quite similar. In The Silmarillion, (ch. 15), Galadriel asks her brother why he would not take a spouse, and
 “… a foresight came upon Felagund as she spoke, and he said : ‘an oath I too shall swear, and must be free to fulfil it, and go into darkness.’”
As for Galadriel, in The Fellowship of the Ring (ch. 7), after Sam had looked into the Mirror, she explains that 
“it shows many things, and not all have yet come to pass. Some never come to be true, unless those that behold the visions turn aside from their path to prevent them.”
As Tom Shippey explained in The Road to Middle-earth, here, “she articulates a theory of compromise between fate and free will”, and we find the exact same ambivalence with Finrod who should be “free to fulfil his oath” (although he can choose to not be free), while acknowledging his fate as something that is already written and from which he must not stray. In other words, it is his fate to take an oath that will drive him to his death, but he’s still free to ignore it, free to “turn aside from [the] path” that was appointed by Eru Iluvatar. That is where resides the tension of free-will. 
Leo Carruthers in Tolkien et la Religion explained how this notion of free-will is fundamental in Tolkien’s work: 
“If the heroes don’t have to make a choice because the path to take seems obvious… if criminals couldn’t repent, the story of the Lord of the Rings would be far less interesting” (Tolkien et la Religion) (my translation). 
According to him, we can understand the term “Free People of Middle-earth” as people who “can use their free-will to decide between good and evil”. It is, as Carruthers comments, to be understood through the Christian notion of salvation, because “if mankind couldn’t tell good from evil, they wouldn’t be able to choose one of the other.” (we’ll talk about salvation later). 
Coming back to Middle-earth, where fate has to do with the Tale of Arda as it was given in the Music. Finrod is free to follow the fate which appeared in his vision, or to refuse this role. 
And what is Finrod’s role in the Tale of Arda? To help in Beren’s quest for the Silmaril, a tragic quest, but which, in the end, enhanced the beauty of Arda through the marriage between a Maia-elf and a Man, through the Peredhil, including Eärendil and his settlement in the sky with the Silmaril on his brow. And remember that Eärendil is a figure of hope for both Elves and Man. 
Finrod knows the path of his fate will be a tragic one, but he also believes that there will be a happy ending; a happy ending which won’t happen if he decides to ignore his fate.
Estel and the eucatastrophe
And that’s what it’s all about : Estel, “a strong hope in Eru, which can’t be separated from trust”, says Carruthers, who then adds that it is obviously very similar to the Christian faith in God. 
Finrod accepts his fate because he has Estel, he has faith in Eru and in the Tale, and he acknowledges that his sacrifice will be part of something bigger, something beautiful in the end (the well-known “eucatastrophe”). Tom Shippey wrote :
”Tolkien of course, being a Christian, did in absolute fact believe that in the end all things would end up happily, in a sense they already had… the difference between Earth and Middle-earth, one might say, is that in the latter faith can, just sometimes, be perceived as facts.”( The Road to Middle-earth, Ch. 5). 
Estel means believing, it means having faith in the happening of a eucatastrophe, that is the “fairy-tale salvation” (T. Shippey, The Road to Middle-earth, Ch. 6).
I already talked a lot about Estel and Finrod in the past, and in an old post I wrote: “In the whole Beren-mess story I believe that Finrod saw himself as a sort of ‘martyr’, being convinced that he was accomplishing Eru’s will in helping Beren – Finrod clearly follows what I call the Estel-principle.” [I also already explained why I judged Estel to be an act of faith, so feel free to have a look at this other old post for more details.]
Remember his words in the “Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth”: 
“If any marriage can be between our kindred and thine, it shall be for high purpose of Doom.”  (HoMe X, part IV)
As for Galadriel, just like Finrod with Beren and Lúthien, she becomes a tutelary figure for Aragorn and Arwen: not only they pledge their love in Lothlórien, but more importantly, Galadriel gives her blessing to Aragorn in The Fellowship of the Ring (Ch. 8), when she gives him the Elessar as a bridal gift. Celebrian being gone, it’s the grandmother’s role to offer it. But the stone is also a symbol of protection towards the couple, although Elrond has not yet completely agreed since Aragorn is not king yet :
“Arwen Undómiel shall not diminish her life’s grace for less cause. She shall not be the bride of any Man, less than the King of both Gondor and Arnor” (The Return of The King, Appendix A)
Galadriel accepts the marriage because she believes that it shall happen “for high purpose of Doom”, just like Finrod about Beren and Lúthien’s. And it’s no coincidence if Aragorn is called Estel: he is the hope of Mankind as the Fourth age draws closer. It can even be argued that, if Aragorn hadn’t had the blessing of Galadriel and the certainty the he would be able to marry Arwen once king, maybe he wouldn’t have accepted the crown with such eagerness. 
Anyway, I do believe that Galadriel’s protection over the lovers is considerably important, as important as Finrod’s sacrifice for Beren’s life. Both become some sort of guardian angels for those two couples, and they accept this role (no matter the sacrifice they’ll have to make on the way) precisely because they believe in a happy ending, because of Estel, which is, in the end, the belief in a just retribution: if they don’t go astray, they will end up wiser and stronger, if not happier, whether in this life or in the afterlife (see Annie Bricks in Dictionnaire Tolkien, entry ‘Retribution’). As I said earlier, one of the most poignant embodiments of Estel is Eärendil, it is thus no surprise if Galadriel offers the Phial of Eärendil to Frodo.  
Friendships with Men 
If Finrod had long before his meeting with Beren become a friend of Men, Galadriel, on the other hand, hardly had any contact with mankind before the Third Age. It is thus significant that she, “the last survivor of the princes and queens who had led the revolting Noldor to exile in Middle-earth” (The Road Goes ever On), acknowledges and gives her blessing to the marriage between a Man and an Elf. 
It is also significant that this blessing is symbolized by the exchange of gifts, for, as Eric Flieller explained in le Dictionnaire Tolkien (Vincent Ferré et All, entry “Don”), exchange between Men and Elves are “signs of alliance between the children of Eru”, just like weddings. 
Moreover, Sébastien
Maillet ( (in “L’Anneau de Barahir”, Tolkien les racines du légendaire, 2003), noticed
that « finrod had received the difficutl task to guide men in their
discovery of Middle-Earth, while Aragorn accept the tole to govern them after
the Elves have left.”
Furthermore, another gift is present in the story of Aragorn and Arwen : the Ring of Barahir, the token of the union between Elves and Men, which Aragorn gave to Arwen, granddaughter of Galadriel, herself sister of Finrod who probably received it from their father in Aman (Finarfin being probably the one who crafted it), and who gave the Ring to Barahir, father of Beren, himself an ancestor of Aragorn and Arwen. (ha!) We go round in circle, aren’t we?
This ring is, according to Elrond’s words to Aragorn a, token of “their kinship from afar” (The Return of the King, Appendix A), a kinship which has been able to evolve (if not to exist) thanks to the protection and tutelage of the House of Finarfin.
In both cases we have an elven lord/lady, who is engaged in exchanges (of gift, knowledge, or assistance) with Men, with the hope (Estel) that it would save Arda from perils, and eventually lead to the accomplishment of the Tale of Arda. And for that they’re both ready to fight and to make sacrifice, of different natures of course.
Sacrifices
Finrod sacrificed his life in the pit of Tol-in-Gaurhoth. Galadriel sacrificed something much more complicated to define : she accepted the fact that the role of the Elves in Middle-earth was dwindling, she sacrificed her pride and her ambitions.
 “She also possesses humility and a willingness to sacrifice her own desires for the greater good, as evidenced by her resistance to the temptation to take the One Ring from Frodo, even though this would make her the most powerful being in Middle-earth.” (source). 
She also sacrificed her granddaughter when she accepted the marriage, since Arwen would never be able to follow her family in the West. Bur more than simple “martyrs”, Galadriel and Finrod are also fighters. 
Fights : victory through defeat
Finrod actually contends with Sauron, during the famous song-battle, and soon after he has a real physical fight with the wolf sent by Sauron, while Galadriel’s own life isn’t directly in peril, and there’s no real face to face. In her case, it is a sort of a remote battle against Sauron through the Ruling Ring, its temptation and illusions. 
We must also stress that she fights against herself, her own delusions and desires. Yet, in the end, her victory helped nonetheless in the defeat of Sauron.
It would be a shame to ignore the words of Sebastien Maillet (in “L’Anneau de Barahir”, Tolkien les racines du légendaire, 2003), who noted that, while Felagund didn’t succumb to the temptation to appear as a god to the mortals when he first met them (they thought he was a Vala, remember?), Galadriel almost yield to this tempting desire when the Ring came to her. Nevertheless, by freeing herself from her own illusions and pride and by defeating the temptation woven by Sauron, she avenged her brothers.
Nevertheless, Galadriel and Finrod are both winners and losers: Finrod was defeated by Sauron’s song and died as he killed the wolf. He wasn’t able to see the success of the quest of the Silmaril. Galadriel left Middle-earth at the end of the Third Age, defeated like all the elves, by the growing power of Mankind.
In terms of fights, we can also mention the parallel between the way Galadriel cleansed Dol Guldur and the passage in which Lúthien cleansed Tol Sirion which was first and foremost Finrod’s dwelling. 
“Then Lúthien stood upon the bridge and declared her power: and the spell was loosed that bound stone to stone, and the gates were thrown down, and the walls opened, and the pits laid bare.” (The Silmarillion, Ch. 19).
“They took Dol Guldur, and Galadriel threw down its walls and laid bare its pits, and the forest was cleansed.” (The Return of the King, Appendix B)
More than an echo, I like to see in this similitude a symbol of revenge of Galadriel in the name of her brother whom she couldn’t help in the First Age. The fact that both Tol-in-Gaurhoth and Dol Guldur had become Sauron’s fortresses is particularly poignant. 
Salvation
Beyond their half-defeat, they are still victorious in the end: Finrod’s sacrifice granted him salvation, just like the refusal to take the Ring in the case of Galadriel:
 “In reward for all that she had done to oppose him [Sauron], but above all for rejection of the Ring when it came within her power, the ban was lifted, and she returned over the Sea, as I told in the Lord of the Rings (The Road Goes Ever On).
We’ve already talked about that so let’s focus on Finrod:
“They buried the body of Felagund upon the hill-top of his own isle, and it was clean again; and the green grave of Finrod Finarfin son , fairest of all the prince of the Elves, remained inviolate, until the land was changed and broken, and foundered under destroying seas. But Finrod walks with Finarfin his father beneath the trees in Eldamar.” (The Silmarillion, Ch. 19).
He’s the only Elda whose ending is given in such terms. Even Fingolfin’s afterlife isn’t mention, and the cairn made for him by Turgon isn’t described with such positive terms, it’s only “high”, whereas Felagund’s grave is “green”, inviolated”, “clean”. As for the mention of his walking with his father in Valinor, it is clearly an image of redemption. 
He has won, because his sacrifice saved Beren, while his sister won, protecting Middle earth from herself, approving and protecting the marriage of Arwen and Aragorn. 
In a draft for a letter to Peter Hasting (letter 153), Tolkien himself explains that:
 “The entering into Men of the Elven-strain is indeed represented as part of a Divine Plan for ennoblement of the human Race, from the beginning designed to replace Elves”. 
And from Felagund’s help in Beren’s quest to Galadriel’s farewell to Middle-earth while giving her granddaughter to Aragorn, the whole plan is made plain. (Ah!)
We must also mention other (aborted) elf-human love stories which involve the House of Finarfin: that of Andreth and Aegnor, and that Finduilas and Turin…If those two tragic relationships never actually happened (because it wasn’t for “hight purpose of Doom”), we nonetheless notice that the alliance of Men and Elves is being mainly constructed around the children of Finarfin and his descendants.
The betterment of the Noldor
Finally, all the tragedies Galadriel and Finrod encountered (including the Rebellion) are at the core of their own evolution: they grew wiser and more powerful than they would have, had they remained in Aman. 
Indeed, if Finrod seems to have learned a lot in the contact of Men since his meeting with the People of Bëor, Galadriel seems to have had only a few connections with the Second-Born before the Third Age. And it’s only after her acknowledgement of Aragorn as the hope of Mankind and Middle-Earth that she can humble herself, accepting that her place is no longer in Middle earth. 
That’s the power of Estel, which, for those two Elves, is also present in the songs they both sing to chase away darkness.
Songs of hope and “prayers”
In the song-battle against Sauron, Finrod tries to take the mastery by singing about “the birds singing afar in Nargothrond, the sighing of the Sea beyond, on sands of pearls in Elvenland” (The Silmarillion, Ch. 19). He here mentions his hope to escape, his hope to see Eldamar again : Estel. 
As for Galadriel, in The Fellowship of the
Ring (Ch. 8), she sings Namarië, which ends with some hopeful final
lines: “Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even though shalt find it.”
Tolkien explained that 
“The last lines of the chant express a wish (or hope) that though she could not go, Frodo might perhaps be allowed to do so.”
(UT 2 Ch. IV) 
Although
Even
if he then explains that the Quenya ‘Nai’ “expresses rather a wish than a hope,
and would be more closely rendered by ‘may it be that (though wilt find), than
by ‘maybe’” (The Road Goes ever on), hope is nonetheless present in this wish, if only for Frodo and for Middle-earth: if she asks for Frodo to be granted a ship to the West, it means she believes he will fulfill his quest and destroy the Ruling Ring. Her song reaches beyond the current, tragic situation, as if she was already expecting a happy ending, even if tainted with sorrow, just like in Finrod’s evocation of Eldamar during his fight with Sauron
in Tol Sirion.
Dreamlands and Craftsmanship
This powerful use of music is part of the powers of Finrod and Galadriel’s art, what the mortals call “magic”, that power of faëry (for more about this, see Tolkien’s essay “On fairy-Story”). 
We’re talking here of their capacity to create images, between dreams and illusions, as in Finrod’s song, again: 
“The chanting swelled, Felagund fought,
And all the magic and might he brought
Of Eveness into his words” (The Silmarillion ch.19)
or when he sings during the first meeting with the Men:
“Now men awoke and listened to Felagund as he harped and sang, and each thought that he was in some fair dream…” (The Silmarillion, Ch. 17)
Or when he changes the appearance of his companions when they approach Tol Sirion :
“Then Felagund a spell did sing
Of changing and shifting shape.” (”The Lay of Leithian”, canto VII, Home III)
In the case of Galadriel, this art of illusion is woven all around Lothlórien, also called “Dreamflower” by Treebeard, or “Dwirmordene”, that is ‘Phantom Vale’ in the tongue of the Rohirrim:
“Half in fear and half in hope to glimpse from afar the shimmer of the Dwimordene, the perilous land that in legends of their people was said to shine like gold in the springtime.” (UT 3, Ch. 2)
“…through the Dwimordene where dwells the White Lady and weaves nets that o mortal can pass”. (ibid.)
As Benjamin Babut explained in his article “Lothlórien la fleur des rêves” (in J.R.R Tolkien, l’Effigie des Elfes, la Feuille de la compagnie n°3, 2014), this word of Anglo-Saxon origin is to be related to “illusions, hallucinations”, which is to be connected to the name Lórien, originally the garden of Irmo, lord of dreams, to which Lothlórien is an echo. 
Lothlórien is a strange forest of gold and silver, the Valley of Gold apparently so different from the underground fortress of Finrod in Nargothrond. On the one hand: stones. Trees on the other. Do you see a pattern, here ? We’re not talking of opposite elements, but of two features that complete one another: Aulë and Yavanna. 
“And Galadriel, like others of the Noldor, had been a pupil of Aulë and Yavanna in Valinor (UT 2, Ch. IV),
A fact that makes her, and her brother, friends of Dwarves. For Galadriel “had a natural sympathy with their minds and passionate love of crafts of hand” (ibid.), and we know that Finrod worked hand in hand with them in the building of Nargothrond and employed them for the crafting of the Nauglamír:
“In that labour Finrod was aided by the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains; and they were rewarded well…And in that time was made the Nauglamír, the Necklace of the Dwarves.” (The Silmarillion, Ch.13)
Yet, and this is interesting, if Galadriel acknowledges their value and the need to unite all people of Middle-earth against Sauron, she “looked upon the Dwarves also with the eye of a commander, seeing in them the finest warriors to pit against the orcs (UT 2 Ch. IV). 
In any case, she is nonetheless a craftswoman as well, she weaves the cloaks she gives to the fellowship, like she weaves webs of illusion around her realm.
By the Way, S. Mallet in his article also talks of the Ring of Barahir as a symbol of the illusion of Faëry…I think we’ve come full circle!
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And now that all this has been said, I cannot emphasize enough Tolkien’s “near obsession” with the rewriting of the character of Galadriel ; he reshaped the character a lot of times after the publication of The Lord of the Rings; some texts are simply incompatible, and it would be purely vain to try to give a fixed, definitive depiction of her. 
I’ll put a final period to this quote (source) :
”Whatever the reasons, the great importance that Galadriel had for Tolkien throughout the many iterations of his legendarium and in his reflections on his sub creation should lay to rest any criticism that he paid little attention to female characters in his work.”
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“I speak no comfort to you, for there is no comfort for such pain within the circles of the world. The uttermost choice is before you: to repent and go to the Havens and bear away into the West the memory of our days together that shall there be evergreen but never more than memory; or else to abide the Doom of Men.”
“Nay, dear lord,” she said, “that choice is long over. There is now no ship that would bear me hence, and I must indeed abide the Doom of Men, whether I will or I nill: the loss and the silence. But I say to you, King of the Númenórians, not till now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Eldar say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.”
“So it seems,” he said. “But let us not be overthrown at the final test, who of old renounced the Shadow and the Ring. In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! we are not bound for ever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory. Farewell!”
This is from The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen - dialogue between the two of them respectively - and it’s just such a fascinating and striking characterization of Arwen that I’ve never seen talked about. Firstly because I like to see a husband-and-wife interaction in which it’s the woman who’s not thinking or behaving according to the set of morals at play, and the man who in contrast is the moral exemplar. And secondly because her situation here is used to present one of the most sympathetic articulations of a resistance to mortality in the legendarium that I can think of.  
And it’s intriguing to me that she just doesn’t seem to have seriously considered death before this point. During the episode in Lothlórien, when she chooses to forsake her people for Aragorn, her hesitancy there is mostly framed as being about Elrond, and her grief at having to leave her father. It’s only here that she’s really hit with not only the reality of Aragorn’s death, but her own as well. 
Not to mention her “as the Eldar say” qualification, and the way she calls the Númenórians “your people,” despite having been Queen of Gondor - she really does seem to have continued to think of herself as Elvish, without seeing the Númenórians or the race of Men in general as kin, until that moment. 
And there’s also the fact that a character who’s so often compared with Lúthien, or considered an analogue to her, is ultimately much more conflicted and ambivalent about her choice than Lúthien. 
(This also aligns interestingly with my headcanon about Elwing, which is that one of her reasons for choosing immortality is that she was afraid of death - which adds to the nice little parallel with Eärendil being the one to go against his identification with Men for her sake.)    
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ofitzroy · 4 years
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❝ ⤚⟶ EUROPE, 1458. thanks is given by the EARL OF RICHMOND, RICHARD FITZROY, from ENGLAND. they are at best ELOQUENT, and at their worst LAZY. whilst abroad, their ambition is to SEEK LEGITIMACY FOR THE SAKE OF HIS FAMILY. HE seems to remind everyone of TIMOTHEE CHALAMET & THE MELODIC TUNE OF A LUTE BEING PLAYING AS THE SUN SETS, THE WHISPERS MADE IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT BENEATH FRESHLY BEATEN COVERS & LAUGHTER BELLOWED AFTER WINNING A GAME OF CARDS. ❞
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here is my second child, made of melancholy and the tightened strings of the lute. 
STATS.
full name  — richard (proto-germanic - “strong or brave leader”) fitzroy (anglo-saxon - “son of the king”) titles  — lord of york, earl of richmond birthplace  —   windsor castle, england (1433) age  — five and twenty (25) languages  — english (mother-tongue), latin (basic, mass-centric), french (fluent, refrains from speaking it), german (basic dialect), spanish (basic), italian (learning) dynasty  — house plantagenet (paternal house), fitzroy (given house), neville (maternal house)
mother  — isabel rose neville, queen of england
father  — edward plantagenet, king of england
spouse  — countess elizabeth beauchamp of richmond (1457-)
issue  — edmund howard-fitzroy (b. 1455)
siblings  — older : prince henry of wales (plantagenet) older : princess beatrice of england (plantagenet) older : prince of england (fitzroy, legitimised) younger : lady of york (fitzroy) younger : lady anne of york (fitzroy) younger : princess ceciliy of england (plantagenet)
other  — duke john neville of york (maternal uncle), earl william of lancaster (maternal uncle), 
zodiac/element — acquarius religious affiliation — roman catholic personality type   — i. swaddled in his mother’s arms the moment he entered into the world it is known to both him and the entire court that he is beloved by isabel neville and his older brother. much cannot be mirrored for his half-brother, the prince of wales, but alas that never did matter. so much love and embroiled passion was to fuel richard’s desire to make a better man of himself. as a child he believed such talk, and often found himself riddled with jealous to his half-siblings who he saw only time to time. yet such boldness soon vanished with age, a tiresome effect carrying on his heavy lids as he walked through life and it’s varying issues to become dulled by the effect of ambition and the pride of his house. still a bastard at sixteen richard found happiness within ale and wine, and then in the flesh that lay beneath heavy skirts. he followed women in a bid to find himself, though such things lead to richard’s siring of a bastard of his own. his personality and lack of love has shadowed by this news, such darkness has engulfed his very person, followed by a lack of ambition and a desperate need to find something to hold onto. ii. as time passed, richard took his bastard for his own soft hands - he gave him his name, he kissed his brow and with one sweep offered himself with marriage and long-lasting love to his childhood friend, elizabeth beauchamp. with land, an estate and a title of his own, richard grew into a fully formed adult with a loving nature that is often overlooked for the ambitious and melodramatic. despite it all, he refuses to change - and found patience in growing his own dynasty with his newfound family. but, called to portugal by demand of his father the lord-king, richard regrets answering to his call. he resigns himself to the idea of acting noble, and would rather keep himself to himself - but he knows now, that his actions ripple onto the ones he loves.. and now, he must chase his legitimisation so there is choice of futures for his child, his future child and mostly for his wife, who he still seems to stare at with honeyed eyes.  face claim — timothee chalamet height  — 5′10″ recognisable features — dark hair that is a stark contrast compared to his pale skin, his agile legs and the lute he plays behind closed doors.
HEADCANNONS
EARL OF RICHMOND  —  the earldom of richmond is a vast and prestigious title to behold! that, richard does not overlook. despite his tired eyes and lazy soul, richard knows very well that his estate was offered as a gift for marrying someone who was beloved by the english court. at first he found anxiety in place of pride but as time moved on richard allowed himself to take to the role as a duck would water. he is a good man to take care of his people, and makes sure that his servants are paid well in turn that they offer him both loyalty and security. as earl of richmond, he commissioned a portrait of elizabeth which hangs with pride in the entrance hall; when they return, he hopes to have one done of edmund who is beloved amongst the people of his home. in truth, he would’ve rather have taken to staying amongst english soil than take flight to portugal’s coast - but he made the voyage to both reaffirm his loyalty to his father and for his wife’s wishes. 
FAMILY  —  for most of his life richard has struggled as a bastard of a king who then married his mother. it was an oddity, to watch his older brother become legitimised - then to later welcome a baby sister into his life, who was both fully-blooded his own sibling but also wore the pride of princess. lines are drawn between the bastards and the legitimate children, that is for sure. for his preference in siblings surely lies within the arms of his fitzroy families; this also leaves him open to the taking of the members of the neville family, who he feels more aligned with. and though his trust in his father still wanes, he finds companionship in his half-siblings too. it is strange, that is for sure, but richard has blossomed within the family since marrying the lady beauchamp, and with time, he will become even more at peace with who he is. 
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
friends, “friends”, men he can play cards with, a bad influence who may drag him under hedonistic skills that he once was fluent with, girls he used to chase, a governess for his son, etc etc 
INFLUENCES.
sirius black (harry potter) charlie pace (lost) ambrose spellman (chilling adventures of sabrina) stan rizzo (mad men) theodore laurence (little women, ho ho ho) tyrion lannister (game of thrones) robin hood (english folklore) jason mendoza (the good place) aragorn (lord of the rings) simba (the lion king) dale cooper (twin peaks) troy branes (community) goh peik lin (crazy rich asians) jon snow (game of thrones) samwell tarly (lord of the rings) joey tribbiani/phoebe buffay (friends) romeo montague (shakespeare) anakin skywalker (star wars) sisyphus (greek mythology) heracles (greek mythology) david (bible) ashoka (indian history) john lennon (english history) beast (beauty & the beast) dante alighieri (the divine comedy) brian jones (english history)
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script-a-world · 5 years
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Is it honestly actually possible that bad people run most of the galaxy or several galaxies? Or at least even just an entire planet? It's done in sci fi a lot. However in real life that obviously has never happened. I'm not sure how to well, begin, create the circumstances that will give them that kind of vast power and not be defeated before. Even if they are the good guys, still, can't see how they can run everything either.
Bina: Totally possible since “bad” is relative depending on you who ask. If they have a believable facade of being “good” (or if they ARE doing good....... to just the right people (such as, politicians or powerful allies who will back them up)), and if they have a lot of supporters who think they’re the good guys, then it’s super feasible that they can take control of the majority of the galaxy with very little opposition.
Heck they can even get away with people just not thinking badly of them. They don’t necessarily need supporters who think they’re the right people to have in charge. Having people be neutral towards them can also be also good enough for them to take control without anyone complaining. All they need is people not caring. People supporting them is bonus, but apathy from the common man also goes a long long way in helping bad people come into power. 
In the end it’s all about controlling their narrative and their own publicity. They can be totally truly evil, but if they cover their tracks with enough propaganda and efforts to appear like they’re doing nothing wrong, or even that they’re doing things for the benefit of the people (or that they’re beneficial for powerful people who have more sway than the average person and can thus override the wills and desires of the common people), then the baddies can take power and the common man would either take no issue with it or be unable to do anything about it. 
Tex: The thing about leadership is that morality doesn't really calculate into it - they're two separate areas with very little overlap, especially if a leader is a successful one. The longevity of a leader's reign has more to do with their bureaucratic competency, organizational skills, competency to set and achieve certain goals that benefit those whom they rule (in some form), and ability to manipulate people. And, I hate to break it to you, but both "good" and "bad" people are manipulative, just for different reasons.
Al Capone is a classic example of how "bad" people can do good things that legitimately benefit others. He was a gangster that directly or indirectly had a hand in killing a great deal of people - but he was incredibly influential in making sure milk had expirations dates, among other things (Atlas Obscura). It could be argued that running bootleg alcohol at all was a good thing, given that a significant portion of the US population did exactly the same thing (to various degrees) during Prohibition. Is profiting off civil disobedience in such a manner against the mores of altruism? Murder or no murder, Capone straddles the line of "good" and "bad", depending on your point of view.
Martin Luther King, Jr, while on the surface might look like a paragon of virtue, did purposefully break laws with specific goals in mind - while his civil disobedience resulted in drastically fewer deaths than Capone's, he did still break the law. There are some schools of thought that believe adherence to the law is virtuous, and thus moral (and thus, "good"). Is MLK virtuous in this regard? Does his position as a minister of his faith grant him more morality than the average person, who isn't an official representative of a codified set of beliefs?
Both MLK and Capone caused immense upheaval in their respective eras and societies. Is this necessarily good? Is upheaval - change - bad? I'm sure there are proponents regarding both of them that can see the advantages and disadvantages of their respective actions. One is classically referred to as a "bad" person, and the other a "good" person. Why? And through whose lens are these judgements being made? Is the perspective itself moral?
Let me bring some fictional examples into this.
Emperor Palpatine, of Star Wars, is coded to be a distillation of evil - the evil, a scourge upon the galaxy. And yet, when he rose to power and declared himself emperor of a new empire, he was lauded as an incredible unifier. General evil-doer he may be, but his grip upon his own galaxy was ironclad, and his background as a senator and then chancellor shows that he was canny, able to organize his political agenda in influential ways that effected significant change upon the political and even economic landscapes of the respective eras of his life.
He was respected - yes, even by the Jedi - for his affable demeanour and bureaucratic acumen. His death, depending on the canon you subscribe to, did not end the vast reach of his influence, with post-mortem orders that were followed with the same fervent veneration as in life. Palpatine's opinion was trusted, and regardless of his moral compass, trust is still something that needs earning. What perceptions his followers are predisposed to, well- that's certainly another topic.
Aragorn II, son of Arathorn, of Lord of the Rings fame, ruled over the reunited kingdom of Arnor and Gondor after the war against Sauron. He is typically coded as the exact opposite of someone like Palpatine - generous, compassionate, wise. A unifier that began an unequivocal era of peace. However, his death toll is proportionally similar to Palpatine's during the war that secured his place upon the throne, and he had eschewed his responsibility as blood heir to the throne for a great deal of his life, a time during which there was famine, suffering, and death from Sauron's own influence. Are his reasons for obscuring his identity and being a Ranger good enough to justify the expansion of Sauron's reign through his relative inaction, his non-acceptance of leadership? Does the end of the war justify the means that Aragorn took to get there?
Is Aragorn more moral, more good than Palpatine, because his reign was brought about through total bloodshed? Palpatine's was wrought through the genocide of the Jedi, and yet his own reign brought a stability to his empire. It can be argued that the inaction on Aragorn's part, and the action on Palptine's part, during their respective wars pre-coronation, were a manipulation of the masses. They both chose to guise themselves for who they really were - the son of Arathorn II and the Lord descendant of Bane's line - only to unveil themselves at an opportune moment hastened on by their own actions to claim, and unify, these warring factions.
All four of these individuals, be the real or fictional, share something in common - the ability to be a successful leader. Their morality did not, in the end, impede them from swaying the masses to their opinions and leveraging the influence that they had - through argument, through force, through lineage - to assemble under a common goal. They all enacted dramatic, sweeping changes upon the society in which they lived, and utilized the power granted to them through their public's opinion to direct society in a direction that they wanted. They were good leaders, but that doesn't mean they had to be good people. 
Saphira: In my novel, I am working with two different rulers. One is an Empress and the other a Tyrant. I'll see what I can glean from each of these two to provide more context in a fictional setting.
The Empress has a positive perspective from her people, as he is backed by her Goddess and her long family line of rule. She has  well developed court, council and structure set by both the Goddess and generations of Empresses before her. (Yes, it's an all female-ruling lineage because they're Elephants and the species is largely Matriarchal, but I digress.) She uses generations of Faith-based morality and ideology  to cultivate the values and perspectives of her subjects. Her choices are just because the Goddess has told her to do it, and our Goddess is Benevolent for all. Behold, she has given us life and freedom beyond our bestial origins. She makes her decisions and rules her people using rigid methods and strict guidelines to keep the common life consistent and rational. Whether she is aware of it or not, it is not so much the faith or the prestige of her rule that is powerful, but that selfsame consistency and rationality of her people.
What I mean is this: because the way of life is consistent, it feels rational. Any good or bad that she does is ruled by the same beliefs as those before her. That makes it easy for her subjects to accept her decisions because it makes sense in the context of their everyday lives. Of course she is going to hoard all the 'non-essential' food in storehouses for the war, because we, the entirety of our people, have been preparing for the war that dominates over other races since our inception. Of course we will put finances into the arts, because we are the great race that will take over the planet and arts show how sophisticated and glorious we are. All of the laws that control, govern and guide her people tether to the same principles, and that makes her powerful. There is minimal resistance, because to resist is to change their daily life and core philosophies.
The Tyrant, on the other hand, has by definition stolen the power for himself by force, and that leaves him with a radically different set of tools to stay in power and rule his territories.
First is the Legacy. The narrative of his glorious victory, his noble war that dominated over the nations to protect the underdogs, helps give him some positive influence, but force is force. He is still dealing with those who will be able to mentally reject or object to his power. He could have taken one of two simple routes: A. Quell or crush any rebellion, or B. Wield that rebellion and outcry as a tool for positive change. A sometimes needs to be done, but his ideal is B. This helps create a positive influence over the territories to help reinforce his Coming to Power Narrative, and also fixes problems in the nation that allows him to turn his focus to other problems. Fun stuff.
His true power is that he is cheating. He is using his arcane ability (which won him the war in the first place) to A. live far longer than anyone has any right to, and B. give the overall impression that he can snap his enemies with the thought of snapping a matchstick. This makes his greatest tools Benevolence and Fear. Or, rather, Love and Fear. This gives the people two reasons to hesitate against him: "I don't want to because he does a decent job most of the time," followed by "also I just like being alive in general." 
Where he lacks in 'legitimate rule' with a long lineage, he has made  up for in a single, long lifespan. The current generation has never lived outside of his rule. Their parents were under his rule. Their great grandparents were under his rule. This also introduces a fear of change, and the fear of change is the greatest tool of all. If there is no great and colossal reason why something should be different (like, I dunno, a lot of people dying) then things tend to stay as they are.  
So what it comes down to are three factors, for staying in power. 
1. The populace thinking it's honestly not that bad, or it could be worse. 
2. Fear of change, or that this thing that claims to be better, isn't. 
3. The consequences of change are too dire. This person can murder me, my family and if they die the economy dies with them.
The moral strength of the character may be a direct influence over these factors. That moral compass might be completely irrelevant. That depends on the characters you want to write and what the narrative needs to present your ideas xor experience. Either way, it's how the ruler handles these factors, ether with skill or great lacking, that determines the strength and distance of their power. 
Constablewrites: Cracked just had an article about this from the perspective of the citizens: http://www.cracked.com/blog/5-ways-normal-people-allow-evil-rulers-to-thrive/ It's got some good links to sources discussing real-world regimes and historical examples.  
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margridarnauds · 5 years
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6, 12, 23, and 45 please!
Thank you!
6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.
So, I have no idea what we’re talking about as far as levels of involvement, but here are the ones I read fanfic RELIGIOUSLY for back in the day. So, behold my shame. 
Cats (oh, my sweet, innocent 12 year old self) - Mistoffelees/Victoria. 
Phantom of the Opera - Raoul/Christine/Erik, tbh. I started off E/C, then shifted to R/C when I realized E was a trashfire, then went to R/C/E when I realized that I loved garbage after all. 
Van Helsing - Anna/Dracula. Which is impressive given I’ve never. Actually. Watched it. Sue me. 
Carmilla - Carmilla/Laura.
The Pirate Queen - Graínne/Donal, one of the first fics I ever wrote. (And then never published.) Yes, he is a garbage fire in the musical, but in my very specific rewrite of it, he wasn’t. Though these days, I kind of lean towards Tiernan/Donal or Tiernan/Gráinne/Donal. Garbage pirate OT3 is garbage. 
Dracula - The Countess (from Makt Myrkanna)/Lucy Westenra. The first explicit femslash I ever wrote, and it might very well never see the light of day because I do not forever want to be known as The One With The Blood And The Lesbians. Though, who knows? It might cleanse me of Printing Press. 
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (Yes. Really.): Twilight/Princess Luna. I keep telling myself that my AO3 profile’s eventually going to be nothing but period dramas, my (1) Terra Nova fic, and…a My Little Pony fic, along with various Barbie Movie fics. For old time’s sake. 
Terra Nova - Wash/Mira, due to @janetcarter‘s influence. 
The Flash - Barrison. Specifically, Eobard/Barry. In many ways, it was my prep for 1789 with the whole “I murdered your parent” thing.  
The Avengers - Loki/Tony Stark.  
Les Miserables - Valjean/Javert 
The Golden Compass - Mrs. Coulter/Lord Asriel 
Arthuriana - Galahad/Mordred
Star Wars - Reylo or Finnlo. I don’t particularly have a preference, just let Kylo screw one of his various archnemeses straight to the side of the Light.
Star Wars: Rebels - Kallus/Zeb. Oh. Another enemies to lovers ship. Who would have guessed? 
1789 - Peyrol/Ronan (Was there any doubt? If there was, I need to write more.) 
Revolutionary Maximilien Robespierre - Madame Roland/Marie-Anne. In progress, but A Ship for me. Mainly because I’m a contrarian little shit who writes things when people tell me I can’t and then gets attached to the result.
Brennus, Enemy of Rome - Ahmet/Nissia. Which…I still need to. Write. My fanfic for that one. So that fanfic for it exists.  
Lord of the Rings - Boromir/Aragorn
Friedrich: Mythos und Tragödie - Countess Orzelska/Wilhelmine and Fritz/Katte. Pretty much equally, though Orzelskine (?) Wilhelska (?) is starting to edge out Fratte. 
La Legende du Roi Arthur - Leia/Guinevere in the French and Morgane/Guin in the Takarazuka. 
Irish Mythology - Bres/Sreng. I will defend this one to the death and I will do it with citations and footnotes. 
Scarecrow of Romney Marsh - General Pugh/Dr Syn. Yet another one I. Need to write the fic for. 
Star Trek: …….. 
………You know, my favorite thing about Star Trek is that, regardless of shipping preferences, we can all find something to enjoy. Kor/Kirk. While I can’t speak for DS9 Quark/Brunt, my current favorite from Discovery has to be Michael/Tilly, which might very well be the single most wholesome thing I’ve shipped in a very long time. 
Ace Attorney: Phoenix/Edgeworth. 
12. Who is your current OT3?
Chauvelin/Percy/Marguerite from The Scarlet Pimpernel. I do not accept constructive criticism on this one. Because Percy/Marguerite are sickeningly sweet on their own, Marguerite/Chauvelin has That Sexual Tension in Where’s the Girl and The Riddle, and Percy/Chauvelin fulfill all my requirements as far as enemies to lovers ships are concerned.
23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.
I’ve talked a lot about Forgiveness being one of the very few things I’ve written that I’ve ever liked and the ONE thing that I feel…gets my idea of how L/R WORK together and probably shows off my style best, along with Fowl Play (WHICH HAS FANART NOW. WHICH I’M STILL NOT OVER BECAUSE MY BABY HAS FANART.) So, instead, I’m going to shift to Pour la Peine, which…is my messy, messy child in many regards, not the least because it’s so much longer + still isn’t finished. 
(Warning for various and assorted personal, squishy feelings, as well as cancer mentions)
When I first got the prompt from @fallenidol-453, it was January of 2018. Two months before, I’d received the news that my uncle had Stage Four Esophageal Cancer and my mother had moved from our house to his house to care for him, leaving me without her help for the first time in my life, which I deliberately kept as low-key about on here as I could be, given that, to be honest, dealing with the endless “I’m so sorry to hear that”s gets very exhausting after awhile and I was a college student with a schedule to keep. And he and I had a very…contentious relationship, despite the two of us being alike in many ways. Possibly because we were alike in many ways. And, by May of that year, he was dead. And I would learn shortly afterwards that my paternal grandfather had died in January, but no one on my father’s side had bothered to tell me. I spent a lot of time trying to deal with the stress of that time, juggling that with my schoolwork and my fanfic, which I tried to work on from the time I received the prompt onwards. (Tbh, I’d had the opening scene in my mind for awhile before, but I hadn’t had a larger plot + ending until the prompt.)
At first, I thought that I would publish it like I’d later publish Forgiveness, in one straight chapter, but as time went on and on and there became less and less of a shot of having it done any time soon, I ended up just publishing the first chapter and deciding to update it from there. And that chapter got a lot of ribbing from friends. “Her brother is dead” really came off as a very melodramatic first line, but I also decided, very early on, that I didn’t care about what the objective quality of it was; all I cared about was creating a snapshot of a time in my life, just like when I go through the stuff that I made when I was twelve and I laugh about the various and assorted OCs and questionable phrases but love them all the same because they’re my twelve year old self’s. And, where I was at that point in my life, writing Solène mourning a family member who she had a difficult relationship with while I mourned a family member who I had a difficult relationship with, it was the only line that felt right to me.  
There’s a lot of things with this one that I’m still not sure about. There’s a plot twist that I’ve tried to be quiet about for all this time (that I’ve probably been really terrible about keeping, tbh) and that is either going to be the Jumping the Shark moment or the defining moment of it, and I’m obviously not sure how that’s going to be received though I want to believe I’ve foreshadowed it enough to not make it too much of a swerve, I’m not sure how I feel about the ending, there’s a lot there that’s murky and probably more reflective of my writing a year ago than not, and I’m not sure about how I’ve handled the character dynamics given what we’ve got in canon or the dynamic I’ve put them into, or whether the choices they’ll make reflect THEM or what I WANTED them to do. Hell, with a few things, I’m not sure how I’m even going to GET to the ending. 
But, I’m really proud of how much I’ve had the chance to work with Solène and Olympe, I’m really happy with a lot of the work I put into sequences like the two chapters long March to Versailles, which involved looking into a LOT of personal accounts as well as secondary sources analyzing it, and I liked trying to flesh out Solène’s world. But, more importantly, of everything I’ve written, it and Le Cri are probably the most directly personal to me, and even though a part of me still says Her brother is dead is a hell of a melodramatic opening line, it fulfilled its purpose. And, tbh, sometimes that’s all a fic needs. 
45. What is your all time favourite fanfic? 
This is so hard for me, because there are so many fics that have left a huge impression on me throughout the various fandoms I’ve been in. In 1789 alone, I was thinking of at least two different fics at a given point, which is both fantastic and minorly stressful given how small this fandom is (one of which, incidentally, was Little Dove Heart, since that really gave me a huge push as far as Laz and his backstory and his characterization and his relationship to Artois, even if I tend to keep the latter more in the background). And there have been so many fics I’ve read that I’ll remember and go back to periodically, and that really helped me as far as looking at how character voices could be developed and how description would work and how to work a time period and a setting into a story. 
Overall though, I think I’m going to have to give it to Vae Victis, which is a work by @sineala‘s. I’ve never been quiet about my undying love for the Gauls and for Brennus in particular. Brennus is one of my historical favs, and I felt like this fic did a really, really fantastic job of bringing that much-neglected period of time to life and developing the characters on their own, without me having any background in the source material. With fanfic, especially with a more active fandom, there’s kind of an expectation that everyone knows the characters involved, so to be able to work in a different time and to get the reader fully invested in the characters and their relationship in their own right is a really fantastic accomplishment, and to be able to show the Gauls and Brennus (in what little time he gets, because my boi’s not the focus and I accept that) as three dimensional figures rather than a rampaging horde is always much appreciated. And it has a WORKS CITED page at the end, AKA the eternal key to my heart. 
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utilitycaster · 5 years
Text
Should you multiclass into it?
I started to write a funnier version of this that was less about pure stats and more about RP and then I was like...let’s just write a long-ish shitpost
Barbarian: Yes. Obviously you need to be strong but like, imagine. You’re living your specialized life. Maybe you’re already talented in combat. Maybe you’re a great bard or wizard who’s suprisingly buff. And you just wake up one day and are like “fuck I’m angry” and start to rage.
Bard: I think people tend to pair this with other casters, but I think if you’ve built a charismatic fighter or rogue (or you have a paladin anyway) you should just take a level or two in bard for the hell of it. Like imagine this big burly charismatic fighter in melee about to raise an axe when instead they cock their head, say “bitch”, you take psychic damage and then they heal their ally as a bonus action, and then as you lie beaten at the end of the fight you hear them tell their allies “oh yeah I hung out with that musician last night at that inn and they were like ‘here’s a cool trick’ and anyway I can do magic now”
Cleric: great, deep RP opportunities for finding faith and such or you can just play it as “I just think Pelor is neat!” Also for those keeping track this is option 1 for making your PHB ranger viable, you poor sweet summer child who built a ranger before Unearthed Arcana fixed it
Druid: okay so the downside is that suddenly you can’t wear metal armor. You know what I want to know? Is being a druid like being a vegan in Scott Pilgrim and if someone wears metal armor the Druid Police show up and strip you of your magic powers? But anyway, downside is you can’t use metal armor or shields upside is if you’re a light-armor class anyway that doesn’t matter and also fuck you I’m a tiger now. Also this is option 2 for making your PHB ranger viable. 
Fighter: arguably of the battler classes this makes the most sense for multiclassing. Like, most parties have at least one person who has some kind of fighting skills so after you, a pure caster, get knocked out in one turn or run out of spell slots because SOMEONE just couldn’t wait ten minutes for Identify as a ritual, wouldn’t you go up to that person and be like “hey can you show me how to like, put on some fucking armor”? I sure would. (option 3 for your PHB ranger btw)
Monk: This is the first one where I’m going to say no. Starting as a monk and taking a level in something else? Awesome. Pure monk build? Awesome. But speaking as someone who took a free karate class once, it just seems like you can’t really become sort of a monk. Like this is really kind of an all-or-nothing deal, either you become an expert in martial arts or you don’t, there’s no half-assing being a monk.
Paladin: okay it’s hard to multiclass in it but if you do you suddenly get to smite things and that’s never a bad idea. The one thing that doesn’t entirely make sense to me is that you don’t take an oath until third level. Like, shouldn’t you start with the oath in order to get your powers? But that’s true for regular paladins too so I guess I just have questions about where exactly a paladin’s powers come from at levels 1 and 2. Is it like a trial period?
Ranger: low level PHB ranger gets a. jack and b. fuck all. I guess if you want an animal companion who can’t do anything multiclass into this? Sorry. It sucks because I fucking love rangers too. I mean I never played earlier editions of D&D, but Aragorn was my favorite in LOTR and Vex was my favorite member of Vox Machina and they deserve better. On the other hand if you can multiclass into revised ranger that makes complete sense, especially if you were like, already kind of wise and spent a lot of time adventuring in the woods. You’d think, rather like the fighter multiclass option, that most people would be like “hey maybe I should develop the basic skills an adventurer needs like not dying of exposure”?
Rogue: this is very good to multiclass into. Who doesn’t feel the itch to start stealing and hiding and stabbing a little, especially if you’re already in the adventuring life? We should all pick up a level of rogue. Sneak Attack it to the man. (option 4, and arguably the best option, for your ranger improvement).
Sorcerer: sorcerer and warlock both are always good to multiclass into, and the higher level in your base class you are when you multiclass the funnier it is. Picture this. You’re a wizard. You’re pretty charismatic, just by nature, but you’re also smart as hell - and you’ve worked on it. You study spells obsessively and spend all your spare money copying them down into your most prized possession, a thick spellbook. You devoted years of your life to this. You and your friends are beginning to gain widespread renown. And then one day you realize you suddenly picked up several extra cantrips and you’ve got like...some scales? So you do sending to your mom and she’s like “yeah there’s a little bit of dragon on your dad’s side, I thought you knew?” 
Multiclass into sorcerer.
Warlock: alternately picture this: you’re a fighter. You’re a good one - one of the best, and charming and attractive but honorable. You’ve honed your skills on the battlefield for years and are now a fearsome knight. One night your and your companions - your party - your family, really - are camping in a strange grove as you prepare to enter the cave of a beholder. The ranger looks around guardedly as you set up. “these woods are strange,” they say but they light a small fire. You’re all nervous about the beholder, but the artificer figured out how to make booze from the weird berries and it’s good, and you drink a lot of it.
You wake up in the middle of the night and you accidentally stumble through a hazy patch of light and then realize someone’s watching you. “Wha’ is it?” you slur. “I would grant you a boon,” says the shadowy transparent green figure who seems to flit in and out of being a person and a tree. “Sure” you say before vomiting in the feywild and walking back through to the material plane before passing out.
Then you wake up and you can fire eldritch blasts in the morning and you’re like “um?”
Multiclass into warlock.
Wizard: I like barbarian and sorcerer and warlock because you could conceivably multiclass because of a snap decision or a mistake and wizards...not so much. Don’t get me wrong, wizards are bad-ass, and if you’re intelligent go for it, but becoming a wizard is like going back to get a PhD - it’s definitely the right choice for some people, but it’s really hard to do accidentally and you better be sure you want it.
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grundyscribbling · 6 years
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Eowyn
Because it’s me and one thing leads to another, that post about the movie version Helm’s Deep has gotten me thinking about Eowyn.
On one hand, I love that she’s a badass who ends up killing the Witch King in a Birnam Wood moment. She does that while also bringing Merry along, because she understands not wanting to be left behind. And she’s basically the only traditional hero we girls get. Galadriel’s nice, but she’s more a hostess/wise-woman/gift-giver than a hero, and we only see Arwen a couple minutes in Imladris, and then at the end when she shows up to get married and give Frodo her place on the ship. Aside from Ioreth, and a handful of hobbit ladies back in the Shire, that’s pretty much it for women in LotR. (Unless we’re counting Shelob, but we’re not, right?)
On the other hand, can we talk about how Eowyn was 100% in the wrong to run away to battle? Yes, it worked out, but in the fine glow of victory, it never gets addressed that she went AWOL because she didn’t like the duty assigned to her. (She’d appealed for permission to ride to battle multiple times, both to her uncle and to Aragorn. Theoden denied her permission; Aragorn had no standing to give or withhold permission and told her so.)
And she absolutely did have a duty. Take a look at the text:
“Behold! I go forth, and it seems like to be my last riding," said Theoden. "I have no child. Theodred my son is slain. I name Eomer my sister-son to be my heir. If neither of us return, then choose a new lord as you will. But to some one I must now entrust my people that I leave behind, to rule them in my place. Which of you will stay?" No man spoke. "Is there none whom you would name? In whom do my people trust?" "In the House of Eorl," answered Hama. "But Eomer I cannot spare, nor would he stay," said the king, "and he is the last of that House." "I said not Eomer," answered Hama. "And he is not the last. There is Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, his sister. She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her. Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone." "It shall be so," said Theoden. "Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!"
Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors, and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corslet.
-The Two Towers, Chapter 6 “The King of the Golden Hall”
With her uncle the king and her older brother the heir to the king both riding to war in Gondor, Eowyn was the ranking member - indeed, the only member - of the House of Eorl left in Rohan. She was the person the people had expressed their trust in as a leader, and her uncle charged her to rule in his absence. She was responsible for the care and defense of the Rohirrim. And she ran out on them, with no mention of having made any arrangement for who would be in charge in her absence.
Far from being given ‘women’s work’ as she complained to Aragorn, Eowyn was in fact being accorded an honor in being named her uncle’s regent - when Theoden looked around for a lord to leave in charge, he was told it was not a man, but Eowyn who the people trusted. As ignoble as her role might have seemed to her up to that point, the Rohirrim recognized her worth.
If Eowyn had a younger sister to deputize, or had her mother still been living, her decision to sneak out to the war would not have been so problematic. (At least, not from an objective point of view- I imagine her brother and likely her uncle would have strongly objected. She also would still have been going for dubious reasons, either glory-seeking or death-seeking.) In fact, had Eowyn’s mother Theodwyn been alive, she arguably might have been the more appropriate choice to act in Theoden’s place in his absence by virtue of her age/experience, so Eowyn wouldn’t have needed to desert her post in the first place.
This seems like an odd choice or oversight on Tolkien’s part. Eowyn would still have ridden to war had there been someone else of the House of Eorl, be it a mother or a sister to take her place in Rohan, but her action would not have been wrong in and of itself. And given how many dead or absent mothers* there are in Lord of the Rings, it would have been nice to see one living and contributing more than just her offspring to events. (Even Galadriel gets reduced to little more than the fruit of her womb - when thanking her for her parting gifts, Aragorn can think of no higher praise than to describe her as being she ‘of whom were sprung Celebrian and Arwen Evenstar.’)
It’s even odder that we never see this aspect of Eowyn’s actions mentioned in the story, particularly when Beregond’s far more minor dereliction of duty with the express purpose of saving a life is addressed publicly. Was Eomer so happy his sister survived that he never got around to chewing her out for dereliction of duty? Did he assume that she somehow talked their uncle into allowing her to ride with them? Did he wait and address it ‘off-screen’, maybe at some point once Theoden had been buried in Rohan? Or did he decide that the best thing to do under the circumstances was to let it slide?
*Major characters whose mothers are known to be dead/departed to the West: Frodo, Arwen & Elladan & Elrohir, Aragorn, Boromir & Faramir, Theodred, Eomer & Eowyn, Elrond
Major characters whose mother is never mentioned at all, not even a name: Legolas, Gimli
Major characters whose mother is only a name in the Appendices: Sam, Pippin, Merry.
I omitted any character whose mother might reasonably be expected to be dead of old age in the normal course of events, such as Bilbo. (I’m also omitting Galadriel, since she’s an exile by her own choice, so it seems unfair to add Eärwen to the dead/absent mothers list.)
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scriptureofashes · 7 years
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gimme some winteriron like...fluff its my secret weakness (maybe a halloween party and buck has a really dumb old costume or something? go wild)
Ahaaaaa I think I sort of turned fluff into angst but like, it’s STILL THERE SO
Also I just had to include Peter lmao
Send me a prompt!
Buckywas going to kill Steve. No joke, he was. He was going tosteal that top hat of his and shove his stupid walking cane up hisass, see if blond President Lincoln was still smirking then.
“Cometo the party, they said,” he muttered. “It’ll be fun,they said.”
Sufficeto say, Steve wasn’t very happy with his best friend doing nothingwith his life except workout, catch up with the 21st century and dodge any form of socializing– he was not hiding,Steve – with any of his so called new team mates. He had so manydifficulties trying not to mix up English with Russian for a whilethere, or trying to sleep without blood-curdling nightmares assaultinghim every night, or trying not to kill people who accidentally snuckup on him.
So.Eat, sleep, train, repeat.
Also,attend arm maintenance sessions. Which was also a bit of a problem.Not at first, mind you—he was begrudgingly fine with letting HowardStark’s son tamper with his arm if it meant he could stop some ofthe chronic pain that throbbed and burned every day at his shoulderand phantom arm, or ease his every move so that he could punch thebad guys in the face with minimal casualties. Regarding himself, thatis.
Butdon’t think he was leaping at the chance of yet another wackymechanic poking at his arm and reminding him how much of a freak he’sbecome. No, it was because Tony Stark was a wonder. He was theone who noticed, the pain whenever he moved, the rust thatreared its ugly head in battle. And when he asked to take a look, itwas as if he was barely holding back his excitement. As if his armwas something to marvel about.
Stevehad mentioned a therapist to help him, but the already ludicrous ideaturned useless as he adhered to sessions with Tony in the workshop.
Hedidn’t understand or try to help him, no. He just listened. Helistened, and refused to treat him as if he were glass, likesome people. Despite what Bucky did to him, he still talked tohim as himself, talked to him how he would talk to an equal humanbeing.
AndBucky soon found himself lost, lostin those doe brown eyes and clever hands, and he was a God damnidiot, that’s what he was.
Goodjob, pal. You’re gone on Tony Stark. And you killed his parents.
Givingup on yet the third try at picking up his beer, Bucky let Russianslip through his teeth as he cursed his choice of costume. Again. Hereally was going tokill Steve for convincing him into coming to Tony’s Halloweenparty. And he was going to kill himself for coming as werewolf,of all ridiculous things.
He’dasked Sam how he could hide his arm and he’d suggested full-bodycostumes, saying he had the perfect one, but Bucky did not expectthis one. Noteto self: kill Sam too.
“Doyou need help with that?”
Buckyraised one eyebrow at the shorty cloakedin white on the other side of the kitchenisland.
“Whatare you, a spider ghost?”
Spider-Manflailed. “I’m justa ghost! The eyes are so that people know who’s under thedisguise.”
“Doesn’t that go against the point of a disguise?”
Thekid blinked at him – or his specs did.
“Yousir, can lick away the beer fromthe floor.”
Buckysnorted and watched him dash back to the party, beer can on one handand Coke on the other, before settling next to the oneperson he’d obviously only go to. His black tux suited him like asecond skin and his eyes gleamed all the way from across the room ashe spun a tale to the very skeptical Agent Hill.Bucky could hear his laughter, and so could the butterflies in hisstomach, apparently.
Abunny. Tony was dressed as abunny, fluffy whiteears sprouting from his dark hair and nose painted into a pink snout.When he’d turned, Bucky felt blood rushing at the sight of a whitelittle ball just over his backside, nestled in the creasethat joined the tails of his coat. God damnit.
APlayboy bunny, Natasha hadclarified,dressed indark green pants, black gloves, black top, and avariety of weapons beltedalong her hips. Hadn’tSpidey blurted out, “Kim Possible!” right next to him, Buckywould have never remembered the show. Honestly,he’d expected something a lot more high maintenance from her.
He’dalso expected a high maintenance party, knowing Tony, but the Playboybunny in question convincedMs. Potts into dealing with the lavish Halloween party while he hadanother, more intimate party to finally reconnect with his old teammates, after a long way down the mutual apologies path.But Bucky would have paid tosee Clint and his Wonder Woman costume at a black tie event.
Butit wasn’t the party that was the only problem, obviously. Tonyin a bunny costume. Itwas sexy, alright. Damn sexy. But it was also adorable.Bucky had thought Tony was cute from the moment he’d first glancedat him, but this—thiswas almost torture. It fit Tony so well,what with the undying, endearing curiosity that watermarked hispersonality. He made the perfect bunny and Bucky was gonnathrow Steve and Sam out the window, how quick would that laughterdie, he wondered.
Hegrowled in their direction and turned away from the party. He reallyshouldn’t have come. He shouldn’t have lefthis rooms. He shouldn’thave caved to Steve’s begging. He shouldn’t have caved to Tony’sbegging to check on his arm, heshouldn’t have read too much into his stares, he shouldn’t havemoved into the compound. He shouldn’t have left cryo.
Cometo think of it, maybe he should have stayed dead.
“Hey,sour wolf, party’sover there.”
Ifit were anyone else, Bucky would have grabbed them by the scruff andflung them at the wall. As it was, he just frowned at Tony’sconcern. His peripheral vision was jacked because of his costume, sohe heard more than saw the half-empty beer can as it came in contactwith the counter.
“Isit the arm? I could have a quick look.”
Buckywanted to laugh. He really didn’t deserve this man.
“No,it’s not that.” He swallowed back saliva. “I’m just thinkingI wasn’t that ready to do this.”
Tony’shand on his was definitely a surprise, butdefinitely not unwelcome. His pristine white gloves differed starklyfrom the dark fur covering his hand. Bucky turned slightly, just so,and met earnest brown. Tony’s smile was a rueful upturn of hismouth.
“Wenever really are,” he said. Something in his eyes made hope flarein Bucky’s chest. “Now come on, I need someone to laugh at Fury’spirate costume with me.”
“Youfreakin’serious—”
Buckyscanned the room and indeed, lo and behold, there was Nick Fury withhis ever permanent scowl and a blue pirate hat on his bald head. It was clearly shovedon by someone far too drunk and Bucky had never seen anythingfunnier.
Tonygrinned at his guffaw.“I really thought I’d get a treat from you, tonight.”
Buckyfelt his lips mirror his before he could help himself.
“Atreat?”
“Yes,instead I got tricked becauseyou got tricked intoSam’s suggestions. Now all thoughts of slobbering over hot soldierBucky Barnes on a Tarzanthong are out the window.”
Buckylaughed way too loud,feeling far too giddy for someone who hadn’t a single drop of boozeall evening.
“Ididn’t know what to do about the arm. And the hair.”
“Thearm didn’t need anything to be done with, thank you very much,”Tony chastised. He seemed to think for a moment. “You wouldhave rocked theAragorn look. I couldhave supplied a super realistic costume and everything.”
“Idon’t remember any Lord of the Rings characters with murderousmetal arms.”
Tonywaved a hand. “Steampunk. It’s a thing.”
Buckysmirked.
“Doesmy costume really put you off?” He lowered his head and his voice.“Is the little bunny afraid of the big bad wolf?”
Tonylooked more amused than charmed, lips tight like he was trying not tolaugh. His fake whiskersstretched on his cheeks as their eyes met, and his pink nosetwitched. It was cute as hell, too cute. Bucky wanted to steal akiss.
WhenTony beat him to it, he thought that maybe coming to the party wasn’t that much of a bad decision after all.
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garden-ghoul · 7 years
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appendix blog part 2
“hahahaha did you think you could get rid of me by pushing smith of wootton major in my path? you fool!”
OF ARAGORN AND ARWEN!
Uhhhhh well it starts out with Arathorn marrying Gilraen, who is too young to be marrying. But like, war is coming, so it’s fine. I’m a prophet trust me. The point is that if they didn’t have Aragorn ASAP Arathorn was going to get killed and the line of kings would die out. Which he did! When Aragorn was two! Gilraen took him to live at Imladris, where they nicknamed him Hope Baby. Because... he is the hope of the Dunedain. It says Elrond loves him like a father, which is cute. But he doesn’t call Aragorn by his actual name (rather than Hope Baby) until the first time he comes home from doing murders, when he is 20.
At this time Aragorn is judged to be An Adult; Elrond gives him the ring of Barahir (I can’t believe they still have that!! that’s really exciting!) and the shards of Narsil. But NOT the Scepter of Amdsndnirsongsd. He’s Not Ready Yet. Wait omg this next part is SO goofy listen
The next day at sunset Aragorn walked alone in the woods, and his heart was high within him; and he sang, for he was full of hope and the world was fair. And suddenly even as he sang he saw a maiden walking on a greensward among the white stems of the birches; and he halted amazed, thinking that he had strayed into a dream, or else that he had received the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen. 
For Aragorn had been singing a part of the Lay of Lúthien which tells of the meeting of Lúthien and Beren in the forest of Neldoreth. And behold! there Lúthien walked before his eyes.
Aragorn is SUCH a baby, I love him. His first thoughts are “am I asleep?” and then “did I just get MAGIC POWERS?” Tolkien is laying it on PRETTY thick with the Luthien and Beren comparison here though. Aragorn shouts “Tinuviel!” and Arwen just, is super super grave about everything. When he asks why he has never met her despite her being Elrond’s daughter she like, dramatically and gravely looks away toward the mountains and says “I dwelt in Lorien” or something.
Aragorn tells his mom, who immediately assumes this means he wants to marry Arwen. “This is a huuuuge aspiration for you,” she says, after he doesn’t mention having any romantic intentions toward her. What she means is, it is a huge aspiration for her. Oh no it’s because she has Mom Prophecy Powers. If Aragorn doesn’t get to marry Arwen the race of the Dunedain will dunedie out. They’re, guys, they’re dunedyin’. Aragorn is exactly as transparent to Elrond, who not only has the gift of prophecy but loves him a lot and is good at reading people. “You can’t marry Arwen until you pass The Trial,” says Elrond, and avoids mentioning what The Trial is. “Also, she won’t even bother with you unless you Come Between Us.” Yeah that’s right if you marry her she will never get to see her father again. Just like, uh, fuckin, everyone else. I am honestly finding the ‘fated’ aspect of this ‘romance’ to be pretty repellent. The only reason Aragorn can’t date someone who it wouldn’t make a bunch of people really sad for him to date.... is because of prophecy.
Aragorn leaves to be a ranger. 
It says that he starts to look kinda shaggy but when he smiles everyone falls in love with him. I’m paraphrasing. Pfff ahaha it also says he was “exploring the hearts of men.” That is DEFINITELY a euphemism for dating a whole ton of people. Aragorn “could not possibly be straight, I knew it” ben Arathorn. Anyway I like to think that having canonically had Haradrim boyfriends made him a lot more kindly disposed toward peace treaties with them than his predecessors the Stewards. Is it appropriate to use ‘haradrim’ here? I always kind of thought it was the plural of some singular word that meant “one person from Harad,” whereas I want an adjective “describing a person from Harad.” Or is the singular the same and I’m just confused because it sounds like a Hebrew plural? I sincerely want an answer to this.
Thirty years after leaving Imladris, Aragorn goes to take a break in Lothlorien. Galadriel greets him at the door and then drags him off to the changing room so he can put on the outfit she used her prophetic powers to design for him. She ships him with Arwen, who--surprise!--is hanging out here again visiting her grandma. When Arwen sees Aragorn for the first time in thirty years, dressed up all fancy and actually grown up, “her choice was made and her doom appointed.” Love at first sssss. Blech. Tepid. Oh I do like this part though:
On the evening of Midsummer Aragorn and Arwen went to the fair hill, Cerin Amroth, and they walked unshod on the undying grass with elanor and niphredil about their feet. And there upon that hill they looked east to the Shadow and west to the Twilight, and they plighted their troth and were glad.
I loooove that they are looking--together!--to their separate dooms and deciding to be joined. I like how going West to the undying lands is ‘twilight,’ a sort of classically bittersweet image. “I’ll stay with you,” she says, “but I am always going to miss my father and all my kin. I want you to know I am giving them up for you.” Doesn’t this remind you of Gogol’s heartwarming Goth Luthien meta where she pointedly learns Westron (or whatever Beren speaks? There’s a name for the language related to her ancestors I think?) because She Lives With Beren Now! No Going Back! I Am Forever Sundered From My Kin! 
Anyway, when Elrond finds out they want to get married he is like “Aragorn look, it ain’t happening until you become the king of Gondor and Arnor.” Gilraen leaves to go back to whatever they have instead of Arnor these days, and soon dies. Then [the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy]. It also says here that the reason, or one of the reasons, Elrond leaves Middle Earth is that after the Three Rings are deactivated he gets really tired. ...ah. There is some causation, not just correlation, between big cheeses of Middle Earth and havers of Rings. Probably he and Galadriel were only able to protect their realms because of the Rings, and that’s why basically all the elves lived in one of those two places. What does Thranduil have in comparison?? How is he keeping his people safe, and that close to Dol Guldur to boot?
Eventually Aragorn Feels The Death Comin On and lies down on his tomb. Adorable... Arwen is like “wait I didn’t think this through, I’m still fucking immortal.” She leaves her son the king and her beloved daughters (no names? c’mon!) and goes to dwell in Lorthlorien, alone. Since Nenya left it’s not even a land of perpetual summer. It’s just. Depressing. She lies down on Cerin Amroth and (hopefully) dies. Hopefully because if she didn’t die then she just... lay there... forever...
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