#dol amroth family

[echo-bleu]

An attempt at character design, plus a couple of half-hearted swan ships.

Lothíriel gets like one line in canon and Amrothos even less than that, but I headcanon Amrothos as nonbinary (and Erchirion as trans). I might do the rest of the family (and the Húrin cousins) at some point.

[ID: Three digital portraits arranged on a white background, plus two small sketches of sailing ships in the shape of swans. The three people have brown skin, dark brown hair and dark grey eyes. The first portrait labelled Lothíriel is a young woman with long curly hair, smiling widely. The second, Imrahil, is an older man with slightly lighter skin, long hair with grey worn half-up, looking up and smiling slightly. The third, Amrothos, is a young person with long hair in a braid, looking more serious.]

#lotr #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #lotr fanart #dol amroth family #imrahil #imrahil of dol amroth #lothíriel #amrothos #echo's fanart #digital art

[starsspin]

people love to hate on boromir but then in the same breath will love faramir. and can’t tell you how much i hate that

#don't get started on the denethor hate we'll be here all fucking day #i love the films #but peter did the steward fam SO DIRTY #and the dol amroth family too CONSIDERING THEY DON'T EVEN MAKE IT INTO THE MOVIES #&. i just really like sharks okay :: ooc

[hallothere]

[sound]

this is an Imrahil of Dol Amroth stan account

#lotro #Prince Imrahil #Imrahil of Dol Amroth #[audio: I Think I Love You by the Partridge Family] #yeah i spent like a good hour getting the day/night cycle #entirely too much time for a meme but #shoutout to everyone who saw me filming this and didn't call me out #re: the stan account thing-- i'm not 100% up on the lingo so kids these days correct me if i'm wrong #video

[bitchfaramir]

Tolkien: "I think you misunderstand Faramir."

I think you misunderstand Faramir. He was daunted by his father: not only in the ordinary way of a family with a stern proud father of great force of character, but as a Númenórean before the chief of the one surviving Númenórean state. He was motherless and sisterless (Eowyn was also motherless), and had a 'bossy' brother. He had been accustomed to giving way and not giving his own opinions air, while retaining a power of command among men, such as a man may obtain who is evidently personally courageous and decisive, but also modest, fair-minded and scrupulously just, and very merciful.

I think he understood Eowyn very well. Also to be Prince of Ithilien, the greatest noble after Dol Amroth in the revived Númenórean state of Gondor, soon to be of imperial power and prestige, was not a 'market-garden job' as you term it. Until much had been done by the restored King, the P. of Ithilien would be the resident march-warden of Gondor, in its main eastward outpost - and also would have many duties in rehabilitating the lost the dreadful vale of Minas Ithil (Morgul).

I did not, naturally, go into territory, and clearing it of outlaws and orc-remnants, not to speak of details about the way in which Aragorn, as King of Gondor, would govern the realm. But it was made clear that there was much fighting, and in the earlier years of A.'s reign expeditions against enemies in the East. The chief commanders, under the King, would be Faramir and Imrahil; and one of these would normally remain a military commander at home in the King's absence.

A Númenórean King was monarch, with the power of unquestioned decision in debate; but he governed the realm with the frame of ancient law, of which he was administrator (and interpreter) but not the maker. In all debatable matters of importance domestic, or external, however, even Denethor had a Council, and a least listened to what the Lords of the Fiefs and the Captains of the Forces had to say. Aragorn re-established the Great Council of Gondor, and in that Faramir, who remained by inheritance the Steward (or representative of the King during his absence abroad, or sickness, or between his death and the accession of his heir) would [be] the chief counsellor.

from The Letters of JRR Tolkien, edited by Humphrey Carpenter, letter no. 244, a draft to a critical reader

#FARAMIR #eowyn #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #jrr tolkien #lotr meta

[velvet4510]

Despite the conservative sides of his viewpoints that have been written about time and again, we really must give Tolkien some credit for the unique embrace of diversity that he does provide at the heart of LOTR.

Three times across history (four if the legend of the ancestors of Dol Amroth’s princes is true), a Man and an Elf fall in love and break the rules of Elven culture to be together.

Four Hobbits, two Men, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Maia - a total of five different races - come together from completely different walks of life, form a Fellowship, and become a family. They each share pieces of their own culture with the others, and the others embrace those pieces.

When a Dwarf is treated with discrimination by Elves, the rest of the Fellowship stand up for him and insist on being treated the same way he is (i.e. blindfolded), and he and the Elf of the Fellowship break through the barriers of cultural prejudice and build an unbreakable friendship.

A Man sacrifices his life to save two Hobbits.

A Man, an Elf, and a Dwarf forsake all other possible tasks and run on foot for hundreds and hundreds of miles on a rescue mission for two Hobbits.

The teamwork of two Hobbits and a group of Ents overpower their mutual enemy and turn the tide of a war.

A Man provides two Hobbits with encouragement as well as extra supplies which end up helping them survive the rest of their journey.

A Hobbit finds a father figure in an elderly Man.

The teamwork of a Woman and a Hobbit brings about the death of an evil it was said could never be killed.

The teamwork of a Maia and a Hobbit save a Man’s life.

An Elf and a Dwarf do not hesitate to follow a Man down a dark and dangerous pathway.

The combined forces of Men, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Hobbit take on a hopeless battle merely to buy time for two other Hobbits to complete their mission.

A Man bows to two Hobbits at his own coronation.

A lost kingdom is restored by a dynasty begun by a Man/Elf couple.

A Maia offers a special gift to two wounded Hobbits and personally escorts them to a place where they will finally find peace.

Two Hobbits, eventually followed by a third, leave their homeland behind and build a new, beautiful life among Elven culture, into which they are accepted with open arms.

An Elf resists the “irresistible” call of the Sea to stand by his mortal friend, a Man, for as long as his friend lives.

A Hobbit names his son after a Man whom he has befriended.

A young Hobbit girl is honored by an Elf queen and later names her children after honorable figures of Elven history.

Two elderly Hobbits are warmly welcomed into a city of Men to live out their last years, and the ruler of these Men requests to be buried beside them.

The Elf/Dwarf odd-couple duo break the rules one last time and sail off together to a place where Dwarves are usually not allowed to be … a place where they can reunite with their other surviving friends, two Hobbits and a Maia.

Middle-Earth is a melting pot of love and acceptance across cultures and races. Tolkien may not have covered all the bases in his exploration of diversity, but by golly, did he cover a lot of them. He wrote a story in which people of completely different backgrounds form unbreakable bonds that change the fate of the world for the better.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr books #lord of the rings #hobbits #men #dwarves #tolkien elves #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #meriadoc brandybuck #peregrin took #gandalf #aragorn #legolas #gimli #arwen #aragorn x arwen #beren and luthien #middle earth

[themoonlily]

did you know that Éomer son of Éomund

has his own command in Aldburg, one of the chief settlements of Rohan

is given the title of the Third Marshal, one of the most important positions in Rohan, when he's still under thirty

is seen by Saruman as one of the two chief obstacles to the easy conquest of Rohan (the other being Théodred)

is relied on by his people and his uncle (once he is restored)

retains his integrity in an increasingly difficult and dangerous situation 

admits he believes as his countrymen do, but is ready to change his mind when presented with new information (” Yes, and we could find a use for Gimli's axe and the bow of Legolas, if they will pardon my rash words concerning the Lady of the Wood. I spoke only as do all men in my land, and I would gladly learn better.”)

is quick to recognise and make important and powerful allies (Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli)

seems to have a witty sense of humour (”So many strange things have chanced that to learn the praise of a fair lady under the loving strokes of a Dwarf's axe will seem no great wonder.”)

apparently resists the influence of Saruman's voice to the degree where Saruman singles him out in the company at Orthanc

acts as Théoden's second in command during the war and takes active part in planning strategy

keeps his calm when Théoden, Rohan’s king and the leader of their people, lies dying and other Rohirrim are dismayed; he rallies them and holds them together during the battle. (admittedly even he loses his shit when he thinks Éowyn is dead, but considering at that point his whole family seems to be dead, I don’t blame him.)

composes some kick-ass verse in the middle of a huge battle

marries Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, the daughter of one of the most powerful lords of Gondor, expressing keen political instinct 

is so successful as king that his people call him “the Blessed”

so if you think he's just some himbo, you probably weren't paying attention.

#Éomer #Eomer #House of Eorl #Eorlingas #Lord of the Rings #Tolkien

[sotwk]

I was wondering who are your fancasts for your headcanon world?

<33

Hiiii Quickie! @quickslvxrr

Am I right in guessing that your question was prompted by my reblog of your reblog of Charlie Hunnam's gif set? XD

Because if so, I will just say that I am very excited to have selected Charlie as my fancast for Théodred of Rohan! (Excited because I hope to start writing chapters of my Eomer x OC fic soon, which actually co-stars dear Théodred.)

I have a growing fancast list for the SotWK AU! I still need to get around to making an official and complete list, but since you seem curious, here is majority of what I have so far.

Apart from Reader Insert stories I write in response to requests, all fics and characters I create are grounded in the SotWK AU, so these characters exist consistently across and crossover between my stories.

SotWK AU Fancast List (a work in progress)

The Royal Family of the Woodland Realm

Elvenking Thranduil - Lee Pace

Elvenqueen Maereth - Jennifer Connelly

Crown Prince Mirion - Henry Cavill

Prince Turhir - Sam Heughan

Prince Arvellas - Rupert Friend 

Prince Gelir - Sam Claflin

Prince Legolas - Orlando Bloom

Crown Princess Itarildë  - Teresa Palmer

(later Crown) Prince Aranion - Bradley James

Princess Anariel- Gabriella Wilde 

Elvenking Oropher - Jason Isaacs

Greenwood Elves

Darthol (Gelir's birth-mate) - Dan Stevens

Olondir (cousin of the Thranduilions) - Jake Gyllenhaal

Rivendell Elves

Elrond - Hugo Weaving

Celebrían - Connie Nielsen 

Nimeithel (oc cousin of Celebrían & mother of Itarildë) - Rebecca Ferguson

Elladan - Richard Madden

Elrohir - Sebastian Stan

Silmarillion / First Age Ancestors

Glorfindel - ???? -still searching!-

Elemírë (oc wife of Glorfindel & sister of Elenwë) - Vanessa Kirby

Maglor/Kanafinwë - Ben Barnes

Velcálë (oc wife of Maglor) - Zendaya Coleman

Círdan the Shipwright - Iain Glen

Eäriel (oc wife of Círdan) - Olivia Hussey

Eärondir (oc son of Círdan & father of Maereth) - Alexander Skarsgard  

Laurinwen (oc mother of Maereth) - Lily Collins

Dwarves / Line of Durin

Durin III, King of Khazad-dûm- Hugh Jackman 

Frerin, son of Thrain - Gerard Butler

Gondorians

Aerdis (oc love interest of Boromir) - Freida Pinto 

Anarlas (brother of Aerdis) - Oscar Isaac

Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth - Eric Bana

Ivriniel - Isabella Rossellini

Finduilas - Monica Bellucci

Erchirion - Adam Driver

Lothíriel - Gal Gadot

Rohirrim

Théodred - Charlie Hunnam

Signyr (oc shield-maiden & Éomer's love interest) - Katheryn Winnick

Léodor (oc in Éomer's Éored) - Chris Hemsworth

Héothain (oc in Éomer's Éored) - Will Poulter

Haradrim

to be revealed OC - Pedro Pascal

YUP. I almost didn't want to insert that little spoiler of my upcoming fic, but I'm just too excited about fancasting the widely adored Pedro Pascal in my AU. It will be one heck of a character, too! I am SO VERY excited to create Harad OCs (Pedro's will be the main one)!

Thank you for the Ask! Although this list is still messy and incomplete, answering it puts me one step closer to getting an official fancast list done! :)

Just tagging people whom I think/hope might be interested in this:

@hobbitwrangler @scyllas-revenge @ass-deep-in-demons @emmanuellececchi @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @konartiste @hippodameia @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @entishramblings @heilith @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @quillofspirit @stormchaser819 @g-m-kaye @mirra-kan @alwayssevvy @marsharmonicorchestra @laurfilijames @coopsgirl @jane0error @jezzibee @lathalea @cuarthol

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

SotWK HC Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

#sotwk answers #sotwk oc #sotwk headcanon #sotwk fancast #lotr #tolkien #tolkien oc #lotr oc #lord of the rings #greenwood the great #thranduil #thranduilion #mirkwood elves #gondor #rohan

[ass-deep-in-demons]

Please don't think I'm trying to trick you into doing my homework for me, BUT... you obviously know Gondor/Men/Númenóreans much better than I do, so I come seeking headcanons and advice!

Your "Speaking Tongues" masterpiece is set in 3006, so you must have given thought to what Boromir's life was like in those years, when he was new as Captain and still in the fresh years of this 20s. Do you have any headcanons of his activities, duties, and military accomplishments in those days? Obviously there were already rising conflicts and troubles with Mordor going on, but how involved do you think Boromir was in them when he was younger? Were there any significant experiences that might have molded him?

You always seem very detailed and action oriented in your fics, so I see you as one of the best people to ask! 😊 I don't want to cause you to spoil your own fics, so please be as vague as you need to! Thank you in advance.

I ALWAYS HAVE TIME TO TALK ABOUT BOROMIR, so thank you for this ask :D

A lot of my headcanons about Boromir's upbringing have already been included in my works, but I can share a few details here :D

1. Adolescence. I headcanon that both Boromir and Faramir were knighted when they entered adulthood, and as such, had to first have been squires. In my AU, Boromir squired under his uncle the Prince of Dol Amroth, and so has formed a closer relationship with Imrahil and his family. Faramir was not afforded such honour, and istead squired in Pinnath Gaelin, where he met and befriended Lord Hirluin.

2. Courtship. It seems unrealistic to me that Boromir would remain unmarried for so long, with no efforts from the Steward to secure the line. He was an heir to a kingdom! And his dad was a control freak! So I headcanon that Boromir was previously engaged. To whom, and what became of her, would be too much of a spoiler :D

3. Titles & duties.

I based the hierarchy of Minas Tirith on the scarce information from the books and took some elements from Lord of the Rings Online.

Over the years, as the Steward gradually descended into a paranoia, Boromir was saddled with more and more official duties. At being knighted, he received the title of Captain of the White Tower (the Citadel) - in my headcanon a leader of the Steward's Knight Cavalry. This had been a title historically given to the Heir to the Throne of Gondor, and it was the title that Boromir used in the books during the introductions in Rivendell. This title also came with certain representative functions at the Steward's Court (which Boromir absolutely hated). It also granted Boromir a privileged seat in the Council of Gondor.

Later Boromir got appointed Captain-General (at the age of 28). This meant he became the leader of the five Captains of Minas Tirith, the Barons of Anorien, and the main coordinator of Gondor's armed forces. Faramir mentions this title of Boromir in Return of the King.

However, later, when Boromir was 33, he also became High Warden of the White Tower (the Burg). Again, Faramir mentions this as one of Boromir's titles in the books. I headcanon that this title gave Boromir jurisdiction over the Citadel Guard, which essentially made Boromir the chief of Minas Tirith Police.

Now that is A LOT of responsibility to saddle one person with, however, at that point Boromir was well used to working over his capacity. The reason the Steward did this was because he, forseeing the war with Mordor, wanted to consolidate power and strengthen the position of the Steward relative to the Council. By giving those titles to his son and heir, he gained advantave over the other great houses. He also did not want the control over the army and the city to go to any of the rival councillors.

(Poor Boromir needs years of therapy after dealing with all this.)

4. As for possible military campaigns and adventures, I sort of need to do further research on this myself. I try to build over canon and expand it wherever I can :D

Thank you for asking!!! I could talk about Boromir for hours! <3

#boromir #boromir headcanons #lotr headcanons #denethor #lord of the rings #[arda] #[wandering birds] #ass deep in demons #ass deep in asks

[emyn-arnens]

Hi!! If you're still up for five sentence ask options, maybe somethig for 'Lothíriel brough the singer from Dol Amroth, a strange fellow with bandaged hands and a fondness for horses', please?

There's no rush and no pressure, happy Tolkien Family Week! :D

Lothíriel brought the singer from Dol Amroth, a strange fellow with bandaged hands and a fondness for horses.

At the first note the man's fingers plucked from his harp, the hall fell silent, and all ears bent toward the man who sat before the fire; and his voice when he sang was fair beyond any Éomer had ever heard—"Elven fair," Gléowine, Éomer's bard, murmured from his seat next to the king.

"Who is this man, if he be so?" Éomer asked in wonder to Lothíriel, who sat at his right hand.

"He is an Elf and a wanderer," she said, her eyes never leaving the bent form of the singer, whose bandaged fingers moved with surprising fluidity over the strings of the harp, "but of late he has dwelt in the caves near the ruins of Edhellond, and there my father's soldiers found him, singing to the waves and wind and wandering the shores until his voice was lost in the salt-spray. He has sung for us many times and asks no favor but to share in the warmth of hearth and hall when he may."

"Then we must bid him welcome," Éomer said, and as the singer's fingers stilled upon his harp, Éomer lifted his cup and said, "Hail, traveller, and be welcome here, for our hall is blessed by your song and our hearth is yours.”

Send me an ask with the first sentence of a fanfic and I’ll write the next five.

#thank you for the ask! this was a fun one :D #there's a little lotro easter egg here too #still taking these! #lotr #eomer #lothiriel #maglor #my fic

[camille-lachenille]

End of the Year Fic Rec

I was tagged by @echo-bleu and @dreamingthroughthenoise and it was very difficult to select only five fics for each category but here's my Must Read fanfics list, mostly Silmarillion but with a few LotR and one Hobbit. Also, I cheated at some point so you have one more fic rec as a treat

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

We will make this place our home by @leucisticpuffin

Summary: Elrond and Elros are sent to live with their distant cousins in a house that is crumbling slowly to pieces. They aren't especially happy about this. For Maedhros and Maglor, the twins are a rare chance to start living again.

Why you should read it: This is a whimsical, heartwarming yet bittersweet at times story about finding one’s place in a new world and what makes a family, grappling with the ghosts of the past and the pain of being a child left behind. Also the most exquisitely written modern AU (the style is just chef's kiss!) I’ve read so far, 100% recommend it!

Maglor is an Eldritch Horror by @thescrapwitch

Summary: After thousands of years singing to the sea, Maglor has become something strange and terrifying. But he still loves his family, and his family still loves him.

Why you should read it: Sometimes, family is a Half-Elf, his wife, their children, a shy and whimsical bard and the Eldritch kidnap grandfather who haunts the house; or how to write slightly creepy fluff. This series is pure heartwarming material and giving Elrond the happiness he desserves.

The Day the Horse-Lord wed the Lady of the Seas by @colinnoahmayhare (rated M)

Summary: After the War of the Ring, Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, finds herself at the receiving end of the search for peace and prosperity by being used as a pawn in an alliance made between kings and princes. Married to the King of the Riddermark, Éomer, she has to navigate being a foreigner in a foreign country, being a Queen to a King, and to learn to live and love with a man she hardly knows.

Why you should read it: This story is an intricate, gut wrenching exploration of what happens in Rohan after the War of the Ring, featuring delightful worldbuilding, lots of politics, revenge and honour. Now with Familial TraumaTM and Couple AngstTM for extra flavour!

And the Stars Shine the Same by @runawaymun (rated M)

Summary: After the Éothéod revolt against the Wainriders, the northern tribes seek to form strong alliances with their neighbors. Lord Frumgar tasks his son Fram to lead the delegation to Imladris. With him, he brings gold, fine horses, and two young thralls chosen by his father to be given to Lord Elrond himself. Elrond is conflicted to say the least.

Why you should read it: Do you like pre-canon Third Age history? Do you like worldbuilding about a few names from the Appendixes of LotR? Do you like found family and Good Dad Elrond? Do you like complex characters learning how to live with their traumas? This story is for you! (Just mind the warnings in the tags)

The ghost you dress up as (knows how to haunt) by @deadqueernoldor (rated M)

Summary: Maedhros was not the first Finwëan to be captured and taken to Angband, nor did he remain there the longest. Ranyatinwë, twin of Caranthir, was the first.

Why you should read it: Tinwë is such a complex character, 50% spite and 50% trauma, and this whole story is so, so promising already! (Really, you should read all the Strength of our Bonds series for extra unhinged, spiteful and unrepentant kinslayer Tinwë. I support women’s rights but in Tinwë’s case I firmly support women’s wrongs). This is pure post-Angband angstfest and dysfunctional siblings caring for each other in their weird way. If angst can be a comfort story, I found it.

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Life in Miniature by @thescrapwitch

Summary: Turgon uses his hobby of building cities to recreate Gondolin, this time on a much smaller scale.

Why you should read it: For re-embodied Finwëan rebuilding their relationships as they work together on a miniature city; a heartwarming and really nice metaphor.

Hearth Fire by @dreamingthroughthenoise

Summary: Findis and Feanor speak before the Flight of the Noldor and share in their grief the best they can.

Why you should read it: Because there are so few stories centered around Findis and her feelings about her family and this one is so interesting and well written. Also, Findis is my Blorbo and everyone should read about her until they're consumed by the Blorbo.

your veins are empty of dust by @echo-bleu

Summary: Anairë finds her late one day in her workshop, surrounded by slabs of stone larger than her. Nerdanel is hammering forcefully at one of them, the barest hints of an elven shape already taking form in the marble. Bitter, stinging tears run down her cheeks and into her collar, and her arms ache with exhaustion.

The body is only barely sketched, but the face is already chiselled, smooth curves and angular cheekbones.

Fëanáro emerges out of the marble, looking like he’s about to take life.

Why you should read it: For a heartbreaking dive into Nerdanel's grief, her friendship with Anairë and how Nerdanel's art becomes her way to cope with loneliness and grief.

see it fall, child of war by @swanmaids

Summary: Elwing's time runs out.

Why you should read it: Because these may be the 740 most impactful words I've read about Elwing since I discovered the Silm fandom.

soldier keep on marching on (waiting on that morning sun) by songofswiftsunrise

Summary: Boromir lives. The world is the smallest bit brighter for it.

Why you should read it: Do I need a more convincing argument than what the summary says? Boromir lives and everyone is happier. I love a good fix-it and this one is very well written indeed.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies.)

The Carpenter’s Son by Zimra (rated M, warning for rape/non-con)

Summary: An untold story of conquered Dor-lómin, in which an Easterling carpenter has a child by his Hadorian slave.

Why you should read it: This story explores in a very interesting way a par of canon that is almost never mentionned (except in the Narn). The main character is attaching and I really cared for her and her son. The hindsights in the slavers' minds are chilling with their realism and this whole story is just so well written. Also, it ends on a note of hope.

And what I am needs no excuses by aurembiaux

Summary: Sam has always been in love with Frodo. It's only that it takes him forty years to realize that he is.

Why you should read it: Probably the most heartwarming and relatable self-discovery story I’ve ever read; set in England from the WWII to the 80’s, with all the social changes that happened in this time period. Featuring Supportive Dad (and Friend) Sam as the main character and a whole bunch of introspection. One of my all time comfort read!

Mark of a Warrior by starryeyedknight

Summary: After the funeral for Theoden, Merry wakes up to a problem experienced by many a young man after a night of heavy drinking. The ink on his arm doesn't appear to be washing off… 

Why you should read it: This one shot explores the relationships Merry formed with the RIders of Rohan, the grief he has in common with them and how he found his place amongst the riders, all of this with delightful humour and lightness despite the initial situation.

Dancing with my punchlines by LiveOakWithMoss (rated M)

Summary: In which the sons of Fëanor throw house parties, the beer is terrible, 20-something hipster elves act like their drama is as bad as it is in canon, and macking on cousins is fair game.

Why you should read it: If you like a good old modern AU with tons of drama of various sorts, amazing ace representation and general Finwëans shenanigans, this is the story for you.

Old Maggie Took by @deadqueernoldor

Summary: The headcanon about Maglor, second son of Fëanor, lives hidden in the Shire? Yes.

Why you should read it: My ultimate comfort read series; featuring mouth-watering descriptions of food, kidnadopted fam and Maglor being an overgrown hobbit and trolling everyone in ME and Valinor. This is fluffy, this is silly, this is prefect.

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Dreams of Doom (rated M, warning for Major Character Death)

Summary: “She runs in the dark, alone. Where her feet carry her, she knows not, and her heart is heavy with dread. Someone - something - is watching her.”

Niënor from the moment she arrives in Brethil to her death.

Why you should read it: Because this fic is my firsborn child and I am insanely proud of it, especially since I went so out of my comfort zone to write it. It features two of my obscure blorbos and I poured my soul into it.

Ice Age(s)

Summary: Ice skating through the ages, from Idril learning with her grandfather to Elrond perpetuating the familial tradition.

Why you should read it: This is a fluffy fic, mostly, and it's also a gift for the amazing @echo-bleu. I also wrote it in a sort of trance in the middle of the night, passed out the moment I posted it and had no memory whatsoever of what I had written upon waking up in the morning, yet I still love this fic dearly.

I never wanted to walk in your steps

Summary: Tilda was ten, the same age Sigrid was at her birth, and her world was collapsing more than when Smaug had destroyed Laketown.

Why you should read it: Because I privately call this fic Hobbit angstfest. I took a sad, doomed ship and asked myself "how can I make it sadder?"

ar ámen apsenë úcaremmar

Summary: Few know of Findis the Faithful, eldest daughter of Finwë, who never lost hope for her family.

Why you should read it: I took my obscure blorbo and set her in a medieval-ish AU. It's sad and a little hopeful too and there's a lot of Quenya interspaced through the story.

Quiet morning in Gondolin

Summary: Idril and Eärendil spend some time together before the city wakes up.

Why you should read it: I'll put the link to the beautiful art that inspired this ficlet and let it speak for me.

And I tag everyone I tagged in this post who hasn’t already done this fics rec tag

#fic recs #tolkien #the silmarillion #the lord of the rings #the hobbit #long post

[echo-bleu]

Hi, queer stuff in Dol Amroth sounds very intriguing!

[ID: anon ask saying "Excuse me, may I ask for queer stuff in Dol Armath for 200 please? -@elithilanor"]

Thank you both!

I haven't actually touched this one in a little bit, but it's actually part of my that garden ungrown series (which has one posted fic atm, but the "autistic Faramir" WIPs are also part of it).

In it, recently married Faramir and Éowyn go to Dol Amroth for the summer, and Éowyn finally gets to meet his husband's mother's very colourful family (in which Finduilas was the token cisstraight) in their own element. They are very queer and very neurodivergent.

My headcanons go something like this:

Elphir: bi, married to a trans woman, Ôliel, they got a surrogate for their son and both fell in love with the surrogate and are engaged in a slow burn poly romance

Erchirion: trans man, autistic, ship captain

Amrothos: nonbinary, very colourful, very ADHD, excellent harpist who happens to run most of the Gondorian spy network in Harad

Lothíriel, who thought she was a lesbian until she met Éomer and is now questioning everything

And the generation above who appear a bit less:

Imrahil, very gay except for his late wife, and also the richest man in Gondor, with a passion for fashion

Ivriniel, Lesbian Aunt (tm), also a wheelchair user

Here's a snippet:

“My lady? Or, uh… my lord?” “No!” “Neither?” Éowyn shakes her head. “No, lady is fine, I just meant, please call me Éowyn.” “Oh. My sister has, um, sent me to… advise you, on matters of dress.” “Lothíriel sent you?” “She thought I would be better suited to this particular task than her or Amrothos.” Éowyn frowns uncomprehendingly. Erchirion fiddles with his sleeve, not meeting her eyes. “Lothíriel should probably have explained first,” Faramir comes over to save him. “He’s here to show you how to bind your breasts properly. Thíri was horrified when she saw the way you did it.” Éowyn raises an eyebrow at Faramir, containing her annoyance at his youngest cousin’s meddling. She likes Lothíriel a lot, she enjoys having a friend her own age, even though they have few interests in common, but this is a little too personal. She barely knows Erchirion. “But why you?” she asks him. Erchirion tilts his head, still looking somewhere over her shoulder. “Has that particular titbit of gossip not reached you yet, my lady?” “Gossip?” “I believe even the city’s most tenacious gossipers have grown bored of talking about you,” Faramir snorts at his cousin. The corner of Erchirion’s mouth turns up slightly, and Éowyn thinks that it might be the first time she’s seen him smile.

Ask me about my WIPs!

#echo's fanfiction #that garden ungrown #eowyn #faramir #farawyn #erchirion #dol amroth family #lotr #lotr fic #tolkien

[hobbitwrangler]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @emyn-arnens for tagging me!

Instead of making progress in my current WIPs I have once more been possessed by love for Dol Amroth (shocking, I know). So here's a little from Finduilas' funeral.

Ivriniel did not realise that she was standing, completely still, until a hand brushed her arm. “My lady?” It took her a long moment to recognise the man who stood beside her. About a head taller than her, broad-built and grey-eyed, Îrdir of Lossarnach had the traditional Gondorian look, with olive skin and an aquiline profile. There was concern in his eyes now as he asked, “Are you well, my lady?” My sister is dead. How can I possibly be well? But she did not say that. Instead she smiled slightly. The movement made her stomach twist. “It has been a while, Îrdir,” she said pleasantly. It shocked her how easy it was to fake normalcy. Maybe the wine was finally working. “I hope you and your family are well.” “We are,” said Îrdir gently. “But it seems wrong for me to speak of that in current circumstances.” “Oh please,” said Ivriniel, wondering just how painfully obvious her desperation was, “I’m drowning in sympathy.”

tagging @searchingforserendipity25 @sotwk @glorf1ndel @konartiste if you'd like to!

#tag games

[dreambigdreamz]

On Our Own | Éomer Éadig (part two)

Summary : Lothíriel braves through her wedding ceremony, trying to suppress her fears.

Author's note : I was having a bit of trouble posting this until I realised I had written over the maximum word count for a text block in one paragraph, now it's solved and I'm so heavened that I don't have to chop this up into several little more parts! Hope you enjoy Lothíriel!

Part One if you have not read it.

"I am Lothíriel, daughter of Imrahil. I am not afraid of anything — I have never been afraid of anything. And if I, a princess of Dol Amroth, can be made to suffer through this much humiliation, and still survive the ordeal, so can you."

None of the ladies spoke a word.

"I am not afraid — I have never been afraid of anything. I know this must be done, and I will see it done. This is my destiny; this is my duty. This is my calling, to serve my father and my family, to change this nation, this world into a better place. And when they call my name, I will always step forward, ready to face anything. And I will face this martyrdom like a proper, dignified Princess."

A silent sniff escaped the girl, and she saw her own lips quiver in the mirror. She took a deep breath, gathering all her strength to keep her shaking shoulders back. She turned to her silent ladies standing behind.

"And I certainly don't want any complaints from any of you."

"We did not say anything, my lady." The calm voice came from the elderly lady whose head was lowered in a small bow. She raised it now for just a few seconds, her dark eyes sweeping over the frame of the younger lady. "It must only be the jitters, princess. Nothing to worry about. You had better get ready. This King obviously does not like waiting."

A hardly pretty scowl overcame the Princess's face. She did not like to be reminded of the first meeting she had with her husband-to-be. Only Lady Saelwen alone witnessed what had happened, when the King strode into her tent. And, the Valar knows, nobody would ever understand what Lothíriel was feeling then.

Despite her eagerness to fulfill her duty as best as she could, the process was not without any setbacks. There had been several, in fact. The need for getting hot water to her room being one of the dire requirements. "You're right. Tell them to fetch the bath, please, Lady Saelwen."

The older lady immediately set about ordering the others with their different duties. Lothíriel, watching her lady-in-waiting masterfully distributing orders to everybody, recalled what she had said about her to King Éomer. She couldn't suppress a smile at that: Lady Saelwen was anything but easily agitated. She was highly and miraculously stubborn, and that had been the actual case when she refused to let the King inside the Princess's tent. But Lothíriel knew she had to patch up what she could to gain the King's goodwill. A task she knew she had to carry out enduringly, and one she awfully hated. She never liked having to please others to save face.

Lady Saelwen had always been in charge of everything — except when they had to deal with the fuming King the first evening, and Lothíriel brushed her aside as someone who could not help her any more. Indeed she then knew nobody could; she was on her own.

"It is all right," the Princess now wondered aloud again as she sat down at the vanity desk, staring at her reflection that seemed like a stranger to her. "Father and Mother will pass away one day, though, the Valar be praised, it may not be for many long years. Elphir has his own family to take care of, and Erchirion and Amrothos will in time find their own families, tread their own paths, and live their own lives. Nobody would have been able to remain with me, anyway. The important thing is, I still have me. I will always have me, myself, and that is all that matters." She quickly took a swallow of her trembling voice, blinked away the silver beads of tears forming at the corner of her eyelashes. Yes, she still had Lothíriel even if she felt completely deserted by all others.

In this distant land, so strange, so foreign to her. And so entirely abnormal.

"If only we had a proper bath-house," Lothíriel mourned, "with steam and a tepidarium and a proper clean marble floor! Hot water on tap and somewhere for us to sit and be properly scrubbed. I should not mind anything at all if only there was a proper bath-house."

"Don't fuss," Lady Saelwen cooed. "When you are Queen, you can have a hundred bath-houses built, my sweet."

Lady Saelwen had commanded a great tureen from the flesh kitchen which was usually deployed to scald beast carcasses, had it scoured by three scullions, lined it with linen sheets and filled it to the brim with hot water scattered with rose petals and scented with oil of roses brought from Dol Amroth. She lovingly supervised the washing of Lothíriel's long white limbs, the manicuring of her toes, the filing of her fingernails, the brushing of her teeth, and finally the three-rinse washing of her hair. The lady-in-waiting had insisted that Lothíriel should bathe like a Princess of Dol Amroth though all the cooks in the kitchen have had to stop what they were doing to boil the water.

This was one thing Lothíriel had decided she must learn to endure. The servants of Meduseld had been amazed that she was going to wash on her wedding day and most of them probably thought that she was risking her life in this wintry weather. Lothíriel, brought up in the liveliest court in Middle-earth, Dol Amroth where the bath-houses were the most beautiful suite of rooms in the palace, centres of gossip, laughter, and scented water, was equally amazed to hear that the Rohirrim thought it perfectly adequate to bathe only occasionally during the winter and that the poor people would bathe only two or three times a year. She had seen it as part of her destiny, her duty, to endure as a Maia from Valinor endures the privations of this world. She had come from Swansong by the Sea — the paradise, the heaven — to the ordinary world. She had anticipated some disagreeable changes.

"Everything will be fine. I had to come to Dol Amroth from Minas Tirith to marry your brother. Life adjusts easily to Change as Time passes by. And better, if you can learn to love your husband." That was what her sister-in-law told her.

"Yes, but you had the luck to come to the best of places. I am not as fortunate — I have to leave the best place in Middle-earth to go to who-knows-where buried under the grass." Lothíriel had retorted. As for the part about loving her husband, she had omitted.

But truth be told, her husband-to-be had made a very different first impression. He was so handsome — she did not expect him to be so handsome! He was fair and broad, like a knight in shining armour from one of the old romances. She could imagine him waking all night in a vigil, or singing up to a castle window as was usual for a courtship in Dol Amroth. He had pale, almost silvery skin only roughened by the weather, he had fine golden hair, and yet it looked untidy and unkempt, so was his beard which Lothíriel had disliked in any man except now when it was him. He was much taller than her, and she could just feel herself melting away like butter whenever she dared to look up at his face.

He had a rare smile, one that would come reluctantly and then shine. And he was kind. That was a great thing in a husband. He was kind when he took the glass of wine from her: he saw that she was trembling, and he tried to reassure her. But at times he seemed so distant, and he would even sound angry, though naturally his voice was low and deep and that alone could make her heart skip a beat. But Lothíriel could not make out the character of this foreign King. She wondered what he thought of her — she did so wonder!

Time after time, the incredulous maids of Rohan toiled to the door to receive another ewer of hot water from exhausted page boys and tipped it into the tub to keep the temperature of the bath hot.

"Your parents would be so proud of you," Lady Saelwen said dreamily as they helped the Princess from the bath and patted her all over with scented towels. One maid took her dark mass of hair, squeezed out the water, and gently rubbed it with a cloth of silk soaked in oil to give it shine and lustre. They led her towards the wardrobe and started to dress her in the layer after layer of shifts and gowns. "Pull that lace tighter, girl, so that the skirt lies flat. This is all of Dol Amroth's day as well as yours, Lothíriel. This is your father's victory, and he said that you would marry the King of Rohan, whatever it costs him."

"Hush. You make me sound like a parcel." Truly, that was what she felt like sometimes. As if she had been shipped off because she was unwanted. Of course, Lothíriel understood her father wanted the best for her, and this match was the best for her. But still.

"Of course not! Your father did this all for your sake although, quite frankly, it amazes me how he happened to choose such a person — I mean, he is King and all, but what a coarse and unrefined—"

"Hush!" Lothíriel repeated, now raising her voice slightly, her brows furrowed in distress. "He is kind, almost sweet, if it weren't for that rude incident." She didn't know why, but she found herself wanting to defend this man, the King of Rohan, who would soon be her husband. But she hardly knew him, and was terrified to speak to him when they were face to face. So Lothíriel was often led to her imaginations of what he might really be like. She hoped he was kind like her father had assured her. She didn't know about that, she had yet to learn about him to form her own opinion. And of opinions, there were so many different ones thrown about Éomer that she hardly knew what to make of him.

But that would not even matter once they were married, nothing could be changed even if she found him not at all agreeable. Again, she wished their period of courtship hadn't been only a year of correspondence and a couple of days in person.

"That was most certainly rude of him," Lady Saelwen remarked, sniffing her nose in disdain as she began to rearrange Lothíriel's hair. She did not answer to that anymore, wishing to drop the subject.

There would be no persuading the lady to any other opinion. She did have a right to feel bitter against the King: he had demanded to meet the Princess of Dol Amroth in front of his travelling party, without ceremony, without dignity, like a scramble of peasants. Lothíriel herself had been so embarrassed, horrified, but she gritted her teeth, and stood up her ground like a fighting soldier meeting the battle head-on. But she couldn't smile like her Mother told her to.

There was a knock on the door. One of her maids, Mylaela, rushed inside with her round face flushed. "It is the King. And he says he wishes to see the Princess."

Lothíriel immediately locked eyes with Lady Saelwen, the older woman raising her eyebrow. It seems this was another one of the traditions of Rohan, unlike Dol Amroth where it was absolutely forbidden for the wedding couple to see each other before the ceremony. Of course, in the same case, the bride would have also been secluded from the sight of every other man as well, but Lothíriel was pretty sure all the people in Rohan, all the pigs, geese and, of course, horses must have seen her face already by now.

"I will see him," said she, silencing her lady-in-waiting with a significant look. She put on a cloak, a dark blue one with lighter hue interwoven like ripples of water, and walked slowly and steadily towards the door.

She was, once again, surprised to see just how tall he was, but hid any emotion well behind her mask of serenity. She curtseyed, but did not say anything, waiting for him to start.

"I am sorry for this inconvenience, my lady."

She nodded her head once, not knowing how else to respond. She couldn't possibly pretend to say it was no inconvenience at all, because it really was. Who would want to meet her husband-to-be, hair drenched in water and face so bare?

"But I came to give you these," he held out a red velvet purse, and almost shoving it to her, immediately withdrew his hands to his back after she received it. She took it politely, with an inclination of her head, but she did not open it. She waited for him to say something more, but they stood silently for a while longer until he cleared his throat and continued, "They are the jewellery of the Queens of Rohan, heirlooms of the family, and it would be kind of you to wear them to the wedding ceremony."

Kind? She was going to be, she was already all but, Queen of Rohan — it wouldn't be a matter of kindness, it was duty, appearance, tradition.

"My lord honours me," she said with a small curtsey, and he took it as a sign to leave, and bowed stiffly. She opened the door behind her, and slid in carefully, feeling quite nervous as she always did whenever in his presence.

Her ladies-in-waiting were eager to see what was inside the small purse, and they wasted no time in taking out the contents, displaying them carefully on the desk. There were golden bracelets, and a necklace strewn with little rubies, and brooches. But what stood out particularly was the coronet. It was wreathed like golden flowers, and the light glistened off its surface like golden rays of sunlight. Lothíriel held it up, examining it in detail.

"Then I cannot wear my tiara," said she, with a hint of despair in her voice.

"You need not wear the coronet today. Perhaps later. You can wear your tiara, for the last time. It is the tradition, he will not object, surely," Lady Saelwen suggested.

"For the last time," Lothíriel murmured. She put down the coronet, pushed the jewellery a little bit aside, and took out her tiara. It had two endearingly lovely swans, and Lothíriel loved it dearly. It was like her own personal badge, her worth, her rank as the eldest unmarried lady of the royal house of Dol Amroth. It had been hers since she was 10, when her cousin Ariellë had married.

She put it on now, looked into the mirror with a close look as she never looked before. She searched for the traces of that little girl who had first tried it on secretly, before Ariellë's wedding day, enthusiastically waiting for that day which would make this invaluable treasure all hers, solely hers.

Now, it was time to let it go.

"Well, take one last look, Lothíriel. Nothing's ever permanent, anyways, and you've had your share of joy these years past." She didn't know what was ahead of her now. She couldn't think of it.

"Oh! darling," Lady Saelwen cried, flinging her arms around her. "I tell you, you need not put it away just yet, not today."

"But I will have to do it sooner or later," she replied determinedly, trying to be strong and not weep. And I had better make the King happy, she did not add this silent thought. She truly wanted to see him smile, though she will most probably be too busy looking at the ground to see even if he did. "It must be this way."

Slowly, she put the tiara down, and beckoned them to continue what they were doing. When they had finished, she looked a most stunning picture — her black hair let down in a thick wave down in front of one shoulder, the golden coronet round her smooth forehead, her silver mantle gleaming with a faint glow of blue as she moved, and to perfect it all, a sure, steady smile that could win any heart. She knew this. She knew she must look something beautiful. King Éomer had even said she looked prettier than her portrait! Of course, Lothíriel knew flattery was to be expected from him, he could just have been doing it out of politeness, the way he said it grudgingly.

She had been raised to feel confident in her looks, she had learned to love the way she looked, everybody always said how lovely she looked. And though Lothíriel did not necessarily believe it much herself — it would be wrong and quite vain — she believed it must be a bit true, at least, because others said so. She had long, dark hair that was often compared to the nightsky, and her skin was perfectly unblemished, and she knew she carried herself gracefully enough, thanks to the years of supervision under her Mother, Aunt Ivriniel, and Lady Saelwen.

But what if Éomer's taste wasn't like all the 'others' who praised her beauty?

What if he liked his women lighter-haired?

That would be a misfortune, indeed, since nothing could be done about it. He would just have to put up with it, probably regretting his foreign dark-haired Queen. But that would be really unfortunate, Lothíriel couldn't help despairing over it.

What was it that her Aunt had told her?

"Consider your husband carefully. He will own all your property, your good name will be in his keeping, and the happiness of your life will be decided by him. If you cannot be a loving wife, then be at least a wife of whom he can make no complaint. That is the best advice I can give to you, Lothíriel: be a wife of whom he can make no complaint. You will be his wife, that is to be his servant, his possession. He will be your master. You had better please him."

The words still echoed in her mind like some sort of prophecy. She had put up a smile, thanked her Aunt archly that it gladdened her heart to be reminded of it, while secretly she scorned and said to herself sarcastically, "No wonder she is a spinster!"

But Lothíriel had held that advice close to her heart, subconsciously, trying to be pleasing to this stranger on whose goodwill her fate, the rest of her life, depended.

She wondered whether he would make a complaint against how she looked. She wouldn't be able to help that. She might be sent back, and the business of searching a husband for her would have to be done all over again — except she would then bear the shame of having been rejected by the King of Rohan.

At least she would get to spend a couple more years in Dol Amroth, before being sent away again.

These different thoughts made her eyes leak somehow, and suddenly she was crying full on.

"La! What is the matter, dear?"

A hiccup escaped before Lothíriel took a gulp of air. "I — I don't really know? It's just — it's just happening by itself and I can't stop it? May—maybe it's what you said, the jitters, the wibber-gibbers like Alphie would say — and, oh! my darling boy, I have forgotten my darling boy, how shall I live without him? And Elphir, and Andrídha, and Erchirion, I miss him already — I admit it! I know I swore I won't but I do! And, and I miss Gwyneth, that dairymaid who ruined my blue-ribboned shoes, Cael the stableboy, even though I always made a point to glare at him whenever he winked at me, and, and everybody!" Lady Saelwen was the only one whose face was still calm and composed, others already baffled by this outburst of the Princess. Lady Saelwen did not speak, and she continued to pat Lothíriel's heaving shoulders in a loving embrace, silently. The words now poured out of her mouth, and suddenly there was no stopping anymore. "I think he doesn't like me very much, this King Éomer, he doesn't talk to me, and he is probably disappointed with how I look. What if he sends me back? Or worse, what if I disappoint him even as Queen of Rohan? What if I am terrible at it? What if I bankrupt the country and ruin everything? — I always forget my numbers, you know that."

"Now, now," Lady Saelwen soothed her, gently rubbing her back, "you are getting too carried away. It's just not possible for you to bankrupt an entire country, and you probably won't be burdened with those crazy duties. You'll just have to keep the accounts in order, the household in order, like your dear Mother does. The rest—" At this, Lothíriel let out a wail, for she could not possibly strive to be anywhere near her Mother's efficiency. "Don't distress yourself like this, dear. It will happen by and by, and you won't even notice it — you'll be such a beloved queen. And as for the King not liking you, why, I never heard such an abominable thing! He would say something about it, wouldn't he, if he didn't like you? That is absurd. And anyways, the men of our court can teach him a thing or two, perhaps a black eye if you request, you see if he doesn't like you then. And today, when you go in with your long, dark hair falling over your white gown, looking like Elbereth herself, the Star-queen, you'll see if there's a soul in the whole of this country, wretched enough to not fall in love with you!

"Now, stop this silly nonsense. You are going to look a mess."

"Well," Lothíriel swallowed a hiccup, now feeling foolish when Lady Saelwen pointed out things that way, and wiping her runny nose feeling like a wayward child, "I suppose I am being silly. There's no point in worrying over things that I cannot change. I will do my best, and leave the rest in the hands of the Valar. But, wouldn't it be more natural to look the blushing bride?"

"Yes, but you are going to get a red nose and red eyes, not alluring, red cheeks." She pinched Lothíriel's cheek lovingly, and again they set to work.

When the bells started to toll, Lothíriel stood up from where she sat, ready and secretly nervous, and said,

"Well, ladies, we have got a wedding to attend."

"Only, you're the bride this time," one girl teased boldly.

Lothíriel mustered all her courage, and strength, and smiled graciously and gaily and giggled, "All the more reason for me to look dazzling!" But a sudden gloom seized her heart, remembering that the joys of childhood would be denied to her after this day onward. And she would not be a maiden any more . . . She shook herself out of that train of thoughts.

She found to her pleasant surprise that her brother Amrothos was waiting outside the door.

"Ready?" He asked with a lopsided grin that made her laugh despite her heavy heart.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, amazed.

"Why, to escort you, of course. We can't risk you being attacked by some ambushing savages, can we?"

She gave him a look of caution.

He chose to ignore it, and remarked with a comical look, "You are so beautiful, I fear I may go blind from your dazzling-ness."

"So do you, dear brother," she said generously.

"Ah, but all the rest of us are only stars and stars cannot be as dazzling as the Moon, no matter how bright they shine."

"I thought dazzling was used to describe the Sun?"

"Spare me the poetry lesson for this once, love." He then asked again light-heartedly, "So, is the beautiful bride ready to mesmerise these petty people?"

"I was born ready, brother."

"Oh I don't know about that — you had such a terrible cry when you were born, I wept for days, terrified of your cries. I remember Auntie soothing me, saying you must be very mad about being brought into the world so early."

Lothíriel couldn't help smiling, a little sadly, at the mention of them as children. It didn't seem that long ago, and yet at the same time it felt so very long ago. Amrothos noticed her half-hearted smile, and turned her round to face him fully, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"You've come so far, Thiri. I still can't believe you survived that terrible drowning when you were four. To think, we could have lost you then! I am glad we did not, sincerely." He placed his hand upon his chest soberly.

"I will survive anything, beloved brother, you need not worry about me," she said coolly, her eyebrow raised.

"Of course, my sweet sister," Amrothos smirked back. "I believe all this is just a piece of cake for you as well?"

A whole bakery, Lothíriel thought, but she answered anyways, "It is."

Amrothos studied her face carefully, saying slowly, "You know we love you."

"I do."

"And this is probably for the best."

"It is."

"Then why looking hang-dog?" He slapped her arm playfully.

She rolled her eyes, scoffing unbelievingly. "Every bride needs to look a bit hang-dog before the wedding."

"Not Andrídha, she did not. She was beaming enough for the both of them."

"That's because she's a fool half-sodden in love." She was pretty sure she failed to keep out the bitterness in her voice.

"And you are not?" Amrothos was looking as if he was trying so hard not to laugh out loud. "Hmm, you probably are not."

She didn't answer, because she didn't know. She was drowning in a sea of worries.

When they reached the door, beyond which was the Hall where all the guests were assembled, a guard bowed at the siblings but told them that the Lady must walk in alone, as was the custom.

"What! This is strange indeed, and if I weren't so nice as I am, I would call this exceedingly stu—"

Lothíriel tugged at her brother's elbow, hissing, "Mind what you say, Amrothos." Already she could feel the terseness of the lords since her arrival, and while Amrothos may not need to care about them, she was to remain here for the rest of her life and she knew she wouldn't survive long if she didn't make herself liked. Another inward sigh. "And really, you couldn't have stuck with me all the way through this marriage anyways, it's all on me." On my own. She tried to smile brightly, and hoped it was convincing enough. "So off you go now, my little star. Go twinkle somewhere else."

"It'll be all right. I know you'll be all right," and with a warm kiss on both cheeks, and one last concerned look, her brother left ahead.

She turned to the guard again, and ordered coolly, "Announce me."

He nodded, knowing this particular about the new Lady, as did many of Rohan by now.

"The Lady Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, and Queen of Rohan!"

The heavy, wooden doors creaked open. Lothíriel, daughter of Imrahil, armoured only with steely determination, stepped forward, her head held high and her footsteps unfalteringly in-beat.

Only she could hear her heart hammering in her eardrums.

Nobody must ever find a Princess of Dol Amroth falling back for fear.

No one will ever know what it cost her to smile, what it cost her to stand before all these people and not tremble.

She was not yet twenty-two, she was far from her Mother, she was in a strange country, she cannot speak the language, and she knew nobody here. She had no friends but the party of companions and servants that she had brought with her, and they looked to her to protect them. They did not think to help her. They could not help her.

Nobody could help her.

No one would ever know that she had to pretend to ease, pretend to confidence, pretend to grace. Of course she was afraid. But she will never, never show it. And, when they called her name, she would always step forward.

Amidst her own heartbeats, she could faintly hear the whisper of voices around her. She could not understand them, nor did she want to. Her eyes, fixated straightforward, fell onto the tall figure of the King. He stood proud and regal, like a pillar of strength. He wore the great woven cloak of gold and green, with the sigil of the horse, and on his head was the heavy crown wrought majestically in gold and white jewels. His face, Lothíriel stole a quick glance as she reached up to him and he took her hand in his, was solemn, almost even stern she would imagine.

She listened attentively, and repeated the vows in her best manner, but heard little. Her thoughts were busy elsewhere. She only registered dimly the voice of the King beside her, standing close by. In fact, she realised, they were so close she could almost discern the faint smell of musk and ambergris wafting around with the underlying notes of sweat, leather, and horses. She remembered it from the first evening when he barged into her tent.

Other than the thud-thud of her heart, she could not acknowledge his presence beside her. Neither did he seem to.

She knew what she had to do. She had to be a princess of Dol Amroth for Rohan and a queen of Rohan for Dol Amroth. She had to seem at ease where she was not and assume confidence when she was afraid.

Éomer may be her husband, but she could hardly see him, she had no sense of him yet. She had no time to consider him. She was absorbed in being the princess that he had bought, the princess that her father had delivered, the princess that will fulfill the bargain and secure the friendship between Rohan and Dol Amroth.

Every now and again, she glanced very briefly at his face, but he stood as still as a statue to reveal any answers to her incessant, whirling, silent questions of what he was like. He stood so still, she could not even tell whether he was breathing or not. Both his hands held her right hand between them, as if ensuring safety and comfort. But Lothíriel was uneasy, wondering if this was one of Rohan's different traditions as well; in Dol Amroth, the bride only held on to the man's arm.

The only thing that disconcerted her throughout the process happened when it was time for them to exchange the rings.

The ring-bearer was a man whom Lothíriel remembered to be one of Éomer's near-kin, but all these lords and Riders had the same bearded faces, the same fair hair, the same silence. If she hadn't mentally prepared herself for it months before she came to Rohan, Lothíriel was pretty sure she'd have gone insane by this unfamiliarity in the strange, foreign land. She wished she could see somebody from home, somebody who hadn't followed hither — she would even be glad to see Wat the groom who sang bawdy songs with his obnoxious voice.

The rings were brought on a small pillow-cushion while she was meditating these worrisome thoughts. When she saw Éomer taking the smaller one, she dutifully held out her hand for him to put it on her finger.

But he didn't.

Éomer took her hand, and turned it so her palm was held upward, and placed the small golden band on it. Confused, Lothíriel looked up at him, and her cheeks flushed warmly when she saw him smiling gently.

"In Rohan, we exchange the rings and wear it ourselves, my lady."

He explained kindly, but suddenly the former warmth in her cheeks grew hotter and she looked down at her palm, possibly looking furiously crimson.

"Oh," was all that she could say, blinking nervously as she reached for the other one and placed it in his upturned hand. Embarrassed, and wishing the wooden floorboards would open up to swallow her, she hastily put her ring onto her finger. Only after that was she able to recollect herself, braced herself, and looked up with a positively bright smile to say, "I wish I had thought to learn of it beforehand. But no matter. It is done."

He smiled again, and Lothíriel noticed, for the first time, the little crinkles near his eyes when he did so. For some reason, the discovery made her feel somehow light-hearted, and she found that she could return his smile with equal sincerity, without at all feeling the tiresome stretch in her cheeks when she had to remind herself to properly regulate even the degree of her smile. "It is done," he echoed, and in her natural maidenly reserve, she lowered her eyes. She felt him leaning down, felt his rough hand under her chin, felt her head being raised up to look at him. Only, she didn't want to look yet, and closed her eyes tightly. Then she felt his lips on hers, the warm kiss making her head spin around in circles, and she felt his hand brushing against her cheek, all in a daze. She only felt, and knew nothing of what was going on. It was done. When Éomer stepped back, she saw the timid smile on his face, as if he wasn't sure how much he should be smiling as well. When she looked around, she saw the smiling faces stretching from her feet to the doors of the Hall. And when they went down the aisle together, past the rows of benches and guests, to the bright wintry sunlight outside and heard the roar of the crowd for Éomer and his bride, the King and Queen of Rohan, Lothíriel started to realise that she had done her duty finally and completely. She had been promised to Éomer for more than two years, and now, at last, they were married. She had been named Queen of Rohan since she was twenty years old, and now, at last, she had taken her name and taken her place in the world. It had felt impossible until it was finally done. She looked up and smiled, not as shy as one might expect of a blushing bride on her wedding day, but a real confident smile of a queen that promised strength and courage to the people she was now to call hers, her own; and the crowd, delighted with the free wine and ale, with the prettiness of the young princess, with the promise of safety from threats both internal and external that could only come with a settled royal succession, roared their approval. They were husband and wife; but they did not speak more than a few words to each other for the rest of the long day. There was a formal banquet, and though they were seated side by side, there were healths to be drunk and speeches to be attended to and the musicians playing. No one had ever seen so much money flung at a single occasion. It was a greater celebration even than the King's own coronation — it was a redefinition of the Rohan kingly state. Lothíriel was perfectly at ease with everything, having expected this all her life since she learned her duty and destiny as a princess, a woman in a largely male-dominated world, where she could only ever amount to be a bridge to the next generation of great men.

But perhaps it wasn't exactly as she had always thought it should be. Given that she was not marrying a lord or knight of Gondor. The people of Rohan obviously did not like talking much, and after the formal ordeals were done, everybody sat down to eating and drinking by themselves. Truth be told, Lothíriel was looking forward to poems composed for her and recited in her honour, like they did for the brides in Dol Amroth; she would have been disappointed about the lack of attention, if it were not for the dreadful prospect of the night's end looming over her head for almost the entire time. That was the chief occupying thought of her mind, and since nobody paid much heed to her except now and then to drink her health, and the members of her own party being a bit distantly placed, and her own lord husband scarcely turning his head towards her, Lothíriel was left to ponder her own dread and dismay. She was brought back to reality by a voice addressing her from below the board. "It would be a great pleasure for us all if the queen would give us a dance. Or is that not allowed in Dol Amroth either?" The boldness of the question startled her. She noticed that it was one of the highl lords of the King's council, an elderly man who particularly was frosty in his manners to her since her arrival. Lothíriel turned her head to Éomer, and asked cautiously, "Since I am now Queen of Rohan, I must learn your customs. Would a Queen of Rohan get up during her wedding and dance for everyone like she is at a village fair?" She saw that Éomer's face was broody, and uneasy. He shifted in his seat before answering her shortly in that deep, gruff voice of his, "If she would like." This was enough for Lothíriel, who had grown up in the court of Dol Amroth where conspiracies and gossips went around like bees buzzing from flower to flower, and she immediately understood his answer as an hesitant yes. She did not yet know the ongoings of this court and the country, but she knew it was her duty to please the King first and foremost, and she had to learn later on of his affiliations and animosities alike. So, for the present, she decided to oblige the possibly harmless request. She threw a small, demure smile to the other lord, and said, "Then I will dance," and rose from her seat at the high table. She was expecting the King to follow suit, but he did not; she realised they meant dancing as in all by herself, like some performer, and not a proper courtly dance with her new husband. She stood still for a second there, feeling very much embarrassed and whacking her mind wondering what to do next, before she finally added with some recovered grace, "With my ladies."

She beckoned towards where they were grouped nicely, a little apart from the men, called out to them by their names. Four young women, dark-haired girls of youth and beauty, pretending shyness but eager to show themselves off, came forwards. The Princess Consort of Dol Amroth, Lady Anarïen, herself had personally selected the ladies, not very willingly acceding to her lord husband's blunt but well-founded request that all his daughter's companions should be pretty. The party of Dol Amroth could not appear in any less honourable manner or fashionable style — except King Éomer had jeopardized the whole plan by forcing his way rudely into the Princess's tent. But nonetheless, all the girls were good-looking, well-mannered, and perfectly suited to be considered close companions of a royal princess of Dol Amroth, but none of them outshone the Princess, who stood composed and confident and then raised her hands and clapped, to order the musicians to play. The dance was a pavane, a slow ceremonial dance, and Lothíriel moved with her hips swaying and her eyes heavy-lidded, a little smile on her face. She had been well schooled. Any princess would be taught how to dance in the courtly world where dancing, singing, music and poetry mattered more than anything else; but she danced like a young woman who let the music move her naturally. She was doing all her best to prove everybody watching that she would be the greatest ornament to this court where they only discussed war-strategies and the meal-times were, simply, for eating meals and not for civilised conversation. She stopped as the music came to its last note, and swept a curtsey at the King, and came up smiling. "Do I please you?" She demanded, flushed and a little breathless. "Immensely," a faint smile was lingering on his lips as he said so, and Lothíriel found herself smiling back with gratitude at his praise and wonder, wonder at what kind of a man he was. When, later on, she was sitting in front of the mirror in her new room, the Queen's room — which, Lothíriel sniffed inwardly, should have been hers since her arrival — she was still left wondering about the mystery of his smile that had stayed in her mind for the rest of that evening.

Sincerely Snow,

19th April — 8th June 2023

#lord of the rings #lotr movies #eomer x lothiriel #eomer eadig #lothiriel #the lord of the rings #arranged marriage #oneshot #light angst #hope you enjoy #lothiriel being an internal mess #dreambigdreamz

[borom1r]

A Boromir ask

What is Boromir's relationship like with his Dol Amrothian cousins?

So, Elphir, Erchirion and Amrothos, but also Lothíriel.

You decide ages and whether Boromir lives or not.

OOOOOOO THE AUTISM. DOUBLE SPECIAL INTEREST LETS GOOOO!!!

OK SO. traditionally speaking and what I like to hold true wrt Gondor is the system for medieval nobility— that is, up to the age of seven, a boy would receive training on manners and basic literacy from his mother. Then, he’d be assigned as a page to the lord of another noble house (at fourteen he becomes a squire, at 21 a knight himself).

I like to think Boromir was sent to Dol Amroth to serve as Imrahil’s page (presumably Faramir was as well, more to get him out of Denethor’s sight than any real sign of honor tho lol). He’d spend his time running messages, serving, cleaning clothing and weapons, and potentially arming and dressing Imrahil as well— in exchange for that service, he’d be receiving an education in everything from basic combat, hunting, falconry, horse-riding, playing instruments, singing, playing chess or other games, further literacy and courtly manners. Upon becoming a squire, duties and training turned chiefly to battle: maintaining arms and armor, caring for horses, guarding prisoners, accompanying his lord to tournaments, and even carrying his lord’s flag into battle. (I expect he returned to Gondor before the age of 21, considering the extenuating circumstances of Fucking Mordor, but still— he’d have spent a good length of time living with Imrahil and his family)

all this to get to the point that if we go by canon years he’d be two years into his service as Imrahil’s page by the time Elphir was born, and already two years a squire by the time of Amrothos’ birth. (Lothiriel was born five years after Amrothos, so I expect Boromir would’ve been back to Gondor by then, but Faramir would’ve still been serving Imrahil in TA 2999)

+ as stated in the ask I just answered, one notable character trait of Boromir, Son of Denethor? Good Big Brother. As easily as he adopted Merry and Pippin into his hoard of younger siblings, I like to think he saw Elphir, Echirion and Amrothos much the same. and who knows, perhaps Amrothos even served as Boromir’s page! he’d still be a young knight, only 23, but the timing does work out— how proud would Boromir be, to see this boy (who he’d known as a mere babe!! who he’d seen take his first steps!!) growing into a fine young knight?? not to mention how confident he seems coaching Merry and Pippin in swordplay without having to compensate for the height difference— makes sense if he is, in fact, used to teaching a kid how to use a sword

so I do think he’s very close with all three of Imrahil’s sons, though I think Faramir would be much closer to Lothiriel simply by nature of Boromir being back in Gondor and worrying about Other Shit before she’s born

#ask #ty!!!! #knights are Also a big special interest alongside LotR so. snfnsjfjsgj

[dalish-delight]

Zôrzimril, the Fire-Jewel of Umbar - or as she now calls herself: Fajar. No longer conqueror-to-be of Dol Amroth, just a soldier returning home. If only there weren't The Problems (such as failing miserably at said conquering, and renouncing Sauron. Even though he is gone, family dinners are going to be awkward).

#my fail queen. I wish to throw her into RP so bad. #hmu if you'd like to rp in dol amroth or umbar! both are possible to reach even for low levels #lotro #lotro oc #lord of the rings online

[sotwk]

hi, was just wondering whether Imrahil will appear in your Boromir/oc fic? He's one of my faves and I love when he turns up in fics

Hi Anon! Thank you for this question! <3

Short answer: YES! The wonderful Prince Imrahil will play a supporting role in my Boromir x OFC fic, which takes place in the decade before the War of the Ring (3008-3019). It will therefore explore aspects of Boromir's early career as Captain-General, which includes his activities in Dol Amroth and relationships with his mother's side of the family.

A more significant role will be played by Boromir's aunt, Lady Ivriniel, but the gentle, reasonable, Imrahil will serve as sort of a foil to both her and Denethor as they pressure Boromir to fulfill certain obligations according to their preferences.

More detailed answer: I love the noble character of Imrahil as well! I think excluding him from the movies was just as grave as excluding Glorfindel. However, writing him and the Dol Amroth clan into my AU stories makes me a bit anxious. My Boromir and Éomer fics are interconnected, and well... I'm deviating from canon to match Éomer with an OFC rather than Lothíriel. I'm yet not even sure how I'm handling that part.

I haven't made a final decision yet whether to actually have Éomer marry someone other than Lothíriel, but I don't usually defy canon pairings, so potentially cutting that in-law tie between Imrahil and Éomer is giving me (figurative) stress ulcers. I dunno, I guess the "where will this go??" is supposed to be part of the fun?? XD

Anyway, thank you so much for asking and I appreciate you waiting for me to get that Boromir fic moving!

#sotwk answers #anon asks #i have the best anons #boromir #boromir x oc #eomer #eomer x oc #boromir fanfiction #eomer fanfiction #imrahil #dol amroth #lotr #tolkien #sotwk fanfiction #sotwk headcanon