#eowyn preference

[essenceofarda]

OF BLESSED THYME & THISTLE | Chapter 1 | Page 5

Masterlist of Pages

Faramir’s cousin, Lothiriel, comes to Minas Tirith to become a companion of his new bride, Eowyn, something that he hopes will ease Eowyn’s rough transition into Gondorian Society. Eowyn, for her part, decides her new companion would in turn make the perfect bride for her brother, Eomer King of Rohan. Matchmaking shenanigans ensue 😏

When the aunties pull no punches 😳😖 Poor Eowyn lol

I'm actually kinda super proud of how this page turned out LOL

#Lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien fanart #tolkien art #lotr fanart #lotr art #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #lotr comic #lord of the rings fanfic #lord of the rings fanart #eowyn of rohan #eowyn x faramir #faramir x eowyn #farawyn #eothiriel #lothiriel of dol amroth #eomer x lothiriel #my art #Eowyn tries SO hard to make a good impression on her relatives (none of whom are impressed #by the fact that she's the FREAKING WITCH KING SLAYER) #and they're just like #varying levels of asshole to her :( #Mainly Faramir's aunt is #bc his aunt's husband's niece (an antagonist in this story) was the preferred bride to be #so Faramir's aunt is a little miffed that Faramir chose an 'uncivilized' woman of the 'lesser men' to marry #instead of #y'know the one she herself chose for Faramir to marry #not that faramir was ever inclined to do so in the first place lol

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: not self-harm scars, but there are mentions of war/battle and violence, talks of being a prisoner of war

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

Legolas’ is here. 

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: You’ve been in many battles, fights and wars. And your s/o is seeing your scars for the first time. 

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

・It was late evening, both of you had had your supper, but even after you had finished eating, you were still sitting at the oak table

・Unwinding, you were both relaxing after a big day

・Aragorn was smoking pipeweed, and you were happy with your wine

・The snow was falling outside and you were both rugged up

・The conversation from the day had found its way into your chambers 

・Although there was no threat of war, it was still spoken about since Aragorn was the ruler 

・He was no stranger to seeing the horrors of war, it was drastically different when he saw the effects of it on your body

・He was devastated. 

・His gruff voice asked about what you had been through

・Aragorn filling both your cups in celebration of surviving 

・Though neither of you were drunk, the affect of the drink was starting to make you both loosen up

   “Do you regret them?” Aragorn said suddenly, breaking the impregnated silence

    “I don’t.” You said after a while, insinuating that you didn’t see your scars as a negative thing 

   It was quiet for a while. But not the type of silence that was awkward. Nothing with Aragorn felt awkward, nothing. 

    After taking another sip from your cup, you asked him the same, “Do you?” 

“For some...I do.” 

・He said it without looking in your eyes

・And he took a long puff of his pipe. After blowing the smoke from his mouth, he reached across the table and took ahold of your hand

   “I just want you to know. I love you.”

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

・She hadn’t been in many battles herself, so seeing your scars took her breath away

・Many long slices that had healed badly, some healed well

・All depending on how many healers had been there during the fights 

・Eowyn’s long hair travelled down her back in a braid that you had done earlier

・Making it so her hair didn’t fall in her face as she trained 

    “That looks like it hurt,” she said absentmindedly, reaching out to stroke the reddish coloured scar. 

  Without meaning to, you laughed and nodded enthusiastically. “It bloody did.”

・Her heart broke for you

・But she laughed lightly at your response

・You were both standing, staring out the window which overlooked the village below

・Her hand snaked down to yours and squeezed 

   “I’m sorry,” she whispered, entwining her fingers, still looking out the window

“Thank you, but I did what I had to do. And this is what came of it.” 

・She turned to you then, and leant her forehead against yours

“I won’t let you get hurt again.” 

    “And I you.” 

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

・Sighed when he saw them, hanging his head in defeat. “I wish you never had to go through that.”

 You smiled at him, “No other choice, my lord.” 

・Although you meant the name as a joke, a teasing nickname, he took it in a different way - 

・Like he could have somehow stopped this from happening. That he had the power to stop it. 

・He was very upset

・And went to sit by himself for a bit

・You didn’t go after him; sometimes people just need time to process their feelings. In other words - to feel their emotions...and work through them

・When he came back, Boromir got on both of his knees and held your hand against his face. 

・Shocked, you let him lead the situation

    “Y/n, forgive me. Please forgive me.” 

・Your shock didn’t waver, it didn’t falter - only grew

“Boromir, why would you ask for my forgiveness?” You knelt as well, so you were on the same level.

    “Because your family has lived in my kingdom for so long. Every decision my forefathers have made led you to endure this. They are to blame, and therefore, I am to blame.” 

・Tears welled in both of your eyes and he stroked his thumb against your cheek

       “I will not forgive you. Because there is no need for you to apologise. I know you will be a just ruler, but I will not have you apologise for my decisions.”

・Kneeling, he took you in his arms and hugged you fiercely. His hand firmly holding your head to his chest. 

𝐀𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐧

・Her gentle voice soothes you, it was the end of another battle and she was healing your wounds 

・As your partner, she tended to you without breaks. You had your own rooms that she took you to, getting help from the other’s to move you to the bed

・She was with you day and night

・So she saw your scars when you were unconscious and her heart broke from what she saw

・Arwen never wanted you to go through the hateful thing that was war. And seeing the results of that on your skin made her want to kill every person who did that to you

・When you finally awoke, she was asleep next to you

・But the moment you stirred, she jumped up and hurried to your side

    “My love, how do you feel?” 

“...sore,” you said in a croaky mumble 

・She smiled, going to get you some salve and drink that would mull the pain 

・When you realised you were topless, you deflated

・And when she came back, you stared at her, trying to see if anything had changed in her since seeing your scars 

・When you were about to talk, she beat you to it 

    “Yes, I’ve seen them. And I’m sorry you went through that.” 

・You were glad she spoke, because you still didn’t have the strength to explain 

・It was like Arwen could sense it; or maybe she just understood beings better than most. Because she didn’t push for it, she didn’t ask you too many questions. 

   “I can do my best to fade them as well, if you wish.”

・It took you a while to decide, but at the end of it. You decided against it. 

   “They’re apart of my story.”

・And again, she understood. 

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫 (this is where talks of being a prisoner of war is)

・You were both up late talking about life and the conversation went to war and what you had both experienced

・A deep conversation that you both didn’t intend on having 

・It was late night, with the stars above you, a fire in front of you and two pales of ale next to you

・Faramir didn’t mean for the conversation to go to a darker place 

・But you were in the beginnings of your courtship and you wanted to learn more about each other 

・It wasn’t until you took off your large jacket and left on your undershirt that he noticed the raised slices on your skin

・He took a sharp intake of breath, seeing your arms alone...it broke his heart to see just how hard you had fought for what you believe in

・Faramir didn’t know how to bring it up, but you knew what he was talking about

・You had been a prisoner of war, and had been tortured for information...but still held strong. They got nothing out of you but a bunch of spitting and swears 

・It was Aragorn who had found you, and both you and Faramir were eternally grateful 

・But Faramir hadn’t seen how bad the orcs had hurt you

・Their brutality was obvious and it took everything in Faramir not to scream out in agony and hatred

・You, who he loved so much. Who made him feel whole, who made him feel like the world made sense, who gave him a purpose - a will to live

・The fact that someone had hurt you so badly... he wished he could return the favour a hundred times over 

#witch the writer preferences #lord of the rings #lord of the rings preferences #lotr #lotr preferences #aragorn #aragorn headcanons #aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #eowyn #eowyn of rohan #eowyn my beloved #eowyn x reader #eowyn headcanons #eowyn x you #eowyn headcanon #boromir x reader #boromir headcanons #boromir x you #arwen x reader #arwen x reader headcanons #arwen headcanons #arwen #faramir #faramir x reader #faramir headcanons #faramir x you #lord of the rings headcanons #lord of the rings headcanon #lord of the rings fanfiction

[lillianofliterature]

Hi Lillian! If your preferences are still open, could I please request a preference for what the LOTR Fellowship think of a modern woman appearing in Middle Earth and developing feelings for her? Thank you!

LOTR PREFERENCES || 3/?

a/n: hi, love! thank you for your request! I’m delighted to do it! 💚 Sorry it took so long to get back to you, I’ve been working on this on and off since it was sent in to be sure I wrote a good amount for every character (although my favoritism is palpable, oops). I would get through 1-2 characters and then my brain would shut off for a while. Very convenient of it. ¯\_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

if gifs are not sourced, they were found ages ago on Google and have sat dormant in my gallery since. if they’re yours, lmk and I will credit or remove them!

some of my preferences are written like imagines, some are written like headcanons. this particular request fits the headcanon format best!

each character varies in length (I mean, some of them have A LOT and I hope you don’t mind, I just like to include everything I think of for headcanons!) and some ideas or descriptors may have been repeated a few times due to there being so many of them! On this particular request, it was so hard to make everyone’s unique because they’re all so kind and good? I feel like everyone would just dote on you and take care of you in their own way? I hope they’re unique enough!

I do my best to keep them gender-neutral for everyone! <3

warnings: repetitive ideas I’M SORRY I TRIED I PROMISE, some injuries and light gore mentioned, mental health issues implied (depression, anxiety, etc.)

(preferences below the cut-off)

| how they would react to developing feelings for someone from the modern world

aragorn | word count: 1.3k+

Aragorn was no stranger to forces of magic and otherworldly power he didn't quite understand, as he was exposed to such truths all of his life, so he wasn't as untrusting or suspicious of you as some of the other folks of Middle-Earth might be to someone claiming to be from another realm of a far advanced make and age. 

He wouldn't develop feelings for you right away, he's the slow and steady sort who must get to know and become familiar with someone before even entertaining fonder, sweeter thoughts, much less full-fledged feelings. But you did have that mysterious air about you, being a stranger to his world, the era and its customs, and he always wished to understand you from the moment Elrond had introduced you to each other. You were intriguing, to say the least.

To be fair, you were slow in trusting people completely, just as he was, so your path in developing feelings for each other was equally stubborn and forgiving. He believed your story, of course, about how you'd come from another land that was quite different from his own, about the strange humming you'd heard one night and the stinging you felt in your toes and fingertips, about how you'd ended up in a forest somehow and had followed the Ford of Bruinen into Rivendell. 

He was the first person to truly believe you and not just try to assuage your questions and anxieties passively. He made a point to validate that you weren't crazy or dreaming it up; he did everything he could to help you feel grounded and understood. Aragorn was humble enough to admit he didn't understand everything—and that he especially didn't have to understand something in order for it to be true. 

At Elrond's request (and largely due to his own curiosity), he'd agreed to help you learn about this strange new world and its history and customs. Why he'd been tasked above any other elf of intelligence in Rivendell to be your guide and tutor, he hadn't the faintest idea, except for the fact that perhaps since he traveled more than those who dwelled comfortably in the elven lord's domain, his experiences might be of more value than knowledge gleaned solely from literature and speeches.

He was quizzical about the strange things you would do, the habits you admitted were hard to break. Such as how you would rub your knuckles against the wall by every door frame when you entered a dark room, presumably looking for "light switches''—and the way you searched for "buttons and knobs" when you entered a kitchen and asked if there was such a thing resembling a "refrigerator" or an "icebox" in this world. Whatever phantom switches and objects you were after, he found it amusing to see you chastise yourself for looking for things that weren't there in Middle-Earth. (But he also realized it must be difficult to enter a realm where nothing is the same and everything is new to you, even down to the most basic aspects of daily living.)

There was also the way you were afraid to drink from rivers and skeptical of sleeping on the ground and accepting food from people you hardly knew and constantly asking what it was you were eating or if it was cooked all the way through. He knew there was some wisdom to caution, but your caution seemed extreme, which made him wonder what sort of world you hailed from that food and drink could not be trusted and one would not be accustomed to natural resources and living off the earth.

He never once made you feel silly or cowardly, though, for whatever you discovered or worried about that made you feel squeamish. He merely taught you his own ways with generous patience; he taught you to hunt and forage, how to protect yourself from insects and parasites with herbs and salves, to trim your hair with shears, and use a specific type of tree branch to clean your teeth (you couldn't just pick up any stick on the forest floor, you know), and how eucalyptus was especially soothing for the scalp when washing your hair (so long as the water wasn't too cold when you rinsed, which you learned the hard way after bathing in the river after he concocted something resembling shampoo for you).

He'd been the one to hold you that night on your travels across lands (an idea Elrond had had to get you used to the world you'd been brought into, teaching you with firsthand exposure or something of the sort) that you'd finally broken down into tears after weeks of trying to make sense of your predicament. He'd sang to you in his elvish tongue until you'd fallen asleep in his arms under the warmth of his furs and winter coat. You missed your family, your friends, and some of the beauties and conveniences of your own land. People and things he couldn't replace. He did his best to calm your aching spirit. He knew what it was to miss people, to ache for them, to reach out and not find them reaching back, to not feel your mother's warmth any longer–no matter how much you longed for it.

It was that kind of sweetness, how in touch he was with his emotions and how readily he extended his compassion, that made you realize how special of a man he was. 

And after months of helping you along in Middle-Earth and watching you blossom and grow with the changing seasons, essentially becoming part of his world, Aragorn began to feel deeply towards you. Not just his protective instinct that he'd developed for you since he'd been your confidante and ally since your arrival (he once compared you to a fawn just learning to walk in the afterbirth or a little bunny hidden away in a burrow that he had been tasked with - and obliged - to help grow and adapt) (all until you asked him to stop comparing you to wild animals), but also these funny little bouts of fluttering in his stomach and an innate need to be near you. The reprieve your mere presence gave him. The pure happiness your eagerness to learn and understand him and his world offered him. 

It would be difficult for him to act on those feelings at first because the last thing he would want to do is add more pressure or discomfort to your already convoluted burdens. But when he did, after weeks of pining for you and feeling himself smile (momentarily free of any heavy thoughts or worries of his own that often tugged that smile flat) after your many failed attempts to mimic or poke fun at him for his quiet, mysterious "Strider" persona.

Luckily, Aragorn was not alone in his feelings, and his only regret was not telling you sooner.

Neither of you knew if your returning home was a possibility or not, nor especially how such a thing could even be done, but he hoped that the day would never come when you would disappear from his life. It wasn't that he wished you never to return home to your loved ones and your comforts, but that he needed closure of his own. He needed warning in order to prepare himself to lose you if he was fated to–not that any amount of preparation can teach someone how to nobly lose their soulmate. Or perhaps he needed at least enough preparation to follow you into that world if he was ever given the chance. 

And if you were to stay in Middle-Earth until the end of your days, he vowed to help you in whatever endeavors you faced, as long as he could be by your side for every one of them. He would gladly go on teaching, guiding, and needing you.

boromir | word count: 1.8k+

Boromir was definitely skeptical of you, not only because of your sudden appearance in his father's city, but also because of your explanations to their inquiries of who you were, where you were from, and how you had come to enter the steward's palace without having alerted any guards or centremen were never quite believable. It seemed as though your answers just brought on more questions, which only made his father's temperament even more fragile than normal.

For his father's sake, Boromir would take over the situation, reprieving him of any responsibility of having to deal with the "nuisance of a wench" that Denethor, Steward of Gondor, had so politely referred to you when you didn't admit to his accusations of your being a spy from Edoras or some sort of conspiring assassin having come to usurp his throne (because you weren't one and in light of your very sudden and confusing teleportation into an entirely different realm, couldn't care less about some rickety old man on some throne you didn't even know about, much less want)

(which you told Boromir to his face once he'd come to visit you in your holding cell to interrogate you further).

Your relationship was a rocky start, to say the least. There wasn't torture involved or anything, you were kept fed and hydrated from within your cell, and the cell itself was much more quaint living space than the stuff of dungeons. The door even had a lock on the inside to ensure your privacy as an individual, although there were guards placed outside the door and the windows were too narrow and too high to even see out of, much less clamber out of to escape further out into a world you didn't understand. In all actuality, as the hours wore on and no one came to remove your fingernails or dunk you in a barrel of icy water until you spoke, you began to realize that the steward's son–Boromir, you think it was–had most likely placed you in the guest or servant's quarters. There was no way that this room, furnished with a single bed, a vanity, a well-stocked bookshelf, a wardrobe, and even a small washroom was in any way dungeon quality. Where was the hay all over the floor? The rusty cell bars? Mice scurrying over your feet? Mushrooms and mold growing in damp corners?

So, had he lied to his father? Gone against his orders to let you rot in a cell for your lying impotence and instead given you room and board?

As the next day dawned and Borormir came to speak with you privately, he was an entirely different person than what you'd expected from your brief encounter in the throne room. Out from his father's scrutinous and demanding gaze, Borormir was much more agreeable and even somewhat patient. He wasn't quick to condemn you as a liar or some manipulative traitor, although he obviously still did suspect it. He was commanding, but he wasn't dominating.

In short, romance wasn't even on the map for either of you due to the circumstances of your meeting. No one falls in love with the man interrogating them for days on end about losing everything they ever had in an instant, about walking into an old alleyway back home to escape the rain, only to find yourself walking into the halls of some grouchy old steward who accuses you of treason and attempted murder. And no one falls in love with the person skulking through their father's halls unannounced and dishing out insults to that said father and kingdom at first glance, wounding their pride and dignity in one fell swoop.

In fact, he'd even chastised you for speaking ill of his father.

"You mean the man who just called me a nuisance? And a wench?"

Your pension for being very...communicative despite speaking to the son of the steward shocked him to say the least. Boromir wasn't used to being spoken to with such reignless freedom—especially not from strangers under lock and key.

He apologized for Denethor's crass and demeaning insults. You wouldn't have accepted his apology if it hadn't been for the forlorn sincerity in the man's eyes when he explained that his father was a changed man–and not for the better. Regardless, he asked that you respect the steward and his position of power, but even more so, respect that he is his father and he couldn't tolerate ill words being spoken about him.

You agreed to speak no such insults in his presence out of respect for Boromir in return for the patience and hospitality he'd shown you, but you made no vow to be tolerable of Denethor himself. He found that agreeable.

As the questions wore on and your answers remained much the same, Boromir realized that this story you kept explaining, about the alleyway and the rain, the smell of the bakery across the street, the soggy socks in your shoes, it was obviously what you believed–even if he wasn't sure if he could believe it yet. It was hard for Boromir to believe without seeing for himself. It's ye old "I believe that you believe it happened," two hairs shy of calling you crazy sort of response.

That is, until his brother gets word of the new visitor a few days after your arrival. Faramir was his name. He remembered how strange that passageway deep in the stone walls of the palace near the eastern wing had always made him feel when he passed through it. And when he heard of your predicament, he actually seemed rather aware of some sort of power or legend that once spoke of beings traveling between realms in some rare instances. Apparently, Boromir was much more trusting of his little brother. He took Faramir at his word, especially once shown several tomes and scrolls from across the ages of rare but unexplainable instances such as yours.

With Faramir's help (whom you found much more agreeable than his suspicious and impossible older brother), Boromir actually believed in what had happened to you. Not just that you thought it was true, but that such strange things do happen, things even the bravest warriors from great kingdoms cannot explain away.

When it was revealed that it did make factual sense, given your odd apparel that day you'd arrived and the baggy "sweatshirt" you'd refused to let them confiscate, the difference in your accent and dialect, the contrast to your world and Middle-Earth, how very little you understood about his kingdom and the way of basic living, you were then given a proper room in the guest housing just outside the palace courts, a few blocks from the courtyard and stories above the inner city.

You were viewed as an intellectual advantage (or at least that was how he explained it to his father in order for it to make sense to the paranoid steward to keep you nearby), given access to the libraries and studies under Boromir's supervision, and were assigned servants to help you learn to bathe without running water, how to brush your teeth without paste and a brush, how to lather your hair with only water and sweet-smelling oils and rinse within a basin, and a myriad of other daily changes you needed to adapt to. When you refused assistance beyond being taught how to live and function in his world, Boromir found it almost insulting–but it made him curious.

He'd never gone a day without servants, almost like shadows ushering about him, unseen and avoided beyond what they were needed for. He appreciated his people and had great pride for them, but your point of view (from someone of the working class) helped humble the entitled nobility woven into his countenance.

As time passed, Boromir found that it was he who took you for walks throughout the palace courtyard rather than silent guards or obedient servants under order; it was he who excitedly showed you his prized steeds and explained each of their individual personalities, who insisted that you venture into every reach of Gondor until you are as familiar with its villages and rivers as you are with the backs of your hands.

It was his idea, then, to show you parts of Gondor you'd never seen. Forests, plains, meadows, farms, and mountain passes, even the distant horizon of a vast beach shore toward the south. All of it grand, all of it foreign, all of it breathtaking. It was there, on horseback and walking through his father's kingdom, that you really saw who Boromir was. Free of armor and duties, he was just a man desperately in love with his country and his people.

He was flawed, yes. Greatly so. But then again, everyone bears flaws as much as any other person. Some are just skilled at hiding them from the world. Others use them to their advantage. But Boromir–Boromir just seemed like a boy some days when he was beyond the walls of Minas Tirith. The tours he gave you of his beloved land, free of expectation and any sense of obligation, were what allowed you to see everything differently, everything way back to the beginning, to months ago when you'd stumbled through those passageways between royal chambers.

And evidently, Boromir had started to realize much the same for himself. He wasn't one to take ladies for strolls about courtyards and offer them wildflowers that he nearly trampled under his boot; it wasn't like him to look forward to the days when he could spend his time riding into the villages and forests with company rather than being alone; it wasn't like Boromir, son of Denethor, heir to the stewardship of Gondor, to find himself lost in laughter as he tried to teach you how to start a fire without a "lighter" contraption that you were used to and watching you fail miserably into the evening hours and cursing under your breath with risqué words he'd never heard. It wasn't like him to feel such relief, to feel so light and free of his father's burdens.

But love comes when you aren't looking for it, and it often brings people together who would never have noticed one another in any other circumstance.

So maybe that's why you were brought to Middle-Earth, to Gondor, to the halls of his very home, out of all the places and realms you might've ended up in. Whatever might've happened, it must have been fate, or some destiny tied to love. For Boromir, the greatest warrior of his father's vast army, to find himself believing in miracles and accepting the truth of the unknown and uncertain–it could be little else but love. For the first time in his life, not knowing was enough, as long as it meant having you.

faramir | word count: 1k+

Your meeting would definitely be in a forest somewhere, perhaps in Gondor or somewhere you can't even pronounce when he tells you. He's with his rangers, scouting and securing the borders of his country–but truly, his purpose for being all the way out there was to be far away from his father to drown out his disdain and favoritism.

The way you would meet would provide him with comical relief somehow, I just think that's something that would give your relationship such a different beginning than all the other people in his life. Not bound by blood or duty, just victims of circumstance, although he wouldn't want to say he was any sort of victim in having the privilege of meeting you.

He would be knelt by the river, scooping crisp water with his hands and sipping it as his men are some ways down the bank, offering him a moment of silence and reprieve from his own duties. His men, the rangers he lead as their captain, were more than just his "Inferiors" (as his father put it), they were his friends and most trusted advisors. They weren't sworn to serve Faramir, son of Denethor, younger brother to the great warrior Boromir, only because duty and station required it of them. They were both fond and loyal to him, to his humility and wisdom, to his feeling nature. His strength was different but no less honorable. So when their captain wandered off alone, they knew him well enough to give him space.

Although, that's not exactly what he would get.

One moment, you were on the hiking trail you'd taken near your local park for the scenic terrain and perfect reading spots when suddenly the trail had twisted in a way it hadn't before until it had completely disappeared from beneath you in the rapidly appearing overgrowth. Now in a forest you didn't recognize, with panic and anxiety pulsing through your body, running back the way you'd come from in desperate search of the trail you'd been vigilant not to wander from.

That's when Faramir hears the rustling in the forest behind him, he stands as he shakes the water from his hands and poises his bow, knowing his men would never rush him unexpectedly while in the wild (and they weren't even in that direction as far as he knew from where he left them). Before the poor man can react, your bodies collide as you appear out of the thicket and slam into him. I mean, you absolutely take this man out.

You'd both crash in a heap by the river, sliding down the bank and into the shallow edges of the freezing water. Your comfy tennis shoes? Sopping wet. His cloak? Might as well hang it on the laundry line next to the linens.

You'd scramble to your feet, still rushing from adrenaline, while he'd take his time getting up as he rubbed the sore spots you'd brandished him with. With one look in your direction, he'd do a once over and a double-take, completely befuddled by your apparel and whatever reflective material your tight leggings were made of. Not to mention the strange device in your hand with a long cord dangling from its end and the sack of books that had tumbled into the damp dirt at the river's edge.

Once he regained his footing with an adjustment of his jaw and posture, he'd be bombarded with your frantic questions of where you were, where the trailhead was, if his "phone" device had any cell power (whatever that meant, he hadn't a clue) or if he was a "LARPer" based on his apparel (which, mind you, he had several questions about your very strange clothing of choice as well). Simply put, you were quite confused by one another.

Much akin to how he would be of aid in Boromir's version, Faramir would be adamant in his studies and knowledge of many mysteries and forces in his world, from long ages past. He was quite the scholar, given his neglected childhood. He would at first be skeptical of your explanation, but it wouldn't take him as long as his brother to believe you. Faramir could sense things about people, he had that sort of discernment that helped him know whether people were honest or insincere. And you were honest.

He would be very empathetic to your situation. He would offer himself as a guide and a protector, teaching you gradually how to arm yourself in the wild during the long trek back to his home of Minas Tirith. Once there, you would be kept out of his father's reach and safely somewhere you could be comfortable and adjust to the changes of his world.

Apart from being a very mature aide to you in your time of crisis, Faramir would be as excited as a kid in a sweet shop. Your presence in Middle-Earth, the circumstances which brought you to him, were absolutely incredible. It was as if his whole life sort of made sense—all the hours spent with his head in the clouds and books upon books flitting through his hands as a young boy and into adulthood, it had all prepared him for you. This fantastical miracle that came hurling at him by some stream in the eastern forests and defied any and every law of science and physics he'd ever been tutored about.

Over time, once his feelings matured into something more than honorable duty (and giddy curiosity), he'd be absolutely devoted to you. He would spend his life trying to find the answers you needed, even if it meant finding a way for you to get home, despite how much he wanted you to remain in his life. He would cross seas and brave mountains to seek out others who knew of anything like your situation, he would risk himself to keep you safe. 

Faramir would do absolutely anything for you, at all times, with the utmost sincerity and adoration from the deepest parts of himself. He would vow himself to you and leave you no room for doubt or insecurity.

eomer | word count: 800+

Eomer, Lord of the Mark and future King of Rohan, would definitely place duty above curiosity and emotion when first meeting a stranger claiming to hail from another much different world completely unrelated to Middle-Earth in its entirety. Albeit a respectful and honorable man, he would have his suspicions about whether or not your predicament was at all possible. And if possible—that was a big if—he would doubt your sincerity (if it had really happened or not). He's the type to need proof and evidence so he can work out how to respond and execute a plan of action. He wasn't one to meddle with ancient powers and mysterious magic—he was a man of law and combat.

What you don't know for the first few weeks, though, is that there's a reason behind his doubt and scrutiny of you, his blatant distrust and sheer callousness. He'd seen what the dark powers of wizards and warlords had done to his uncle Theoden. He'd witnessed firsthand how it had torn his family apart, stricken with grief and remorse. His sister had been plagued and stalked by one such man who was an ally to such dark arts. Magic and powerful entities had never brought Eomer or his people anything good.

Eventually, when you learn about all of this, you're more compassionate to his point of view and not so frustrated with him for being so darn suspicious all of the time.

However, despite his reservations about your situation, that would not affect his efforts in helping you (after you've been ruled out as a threat). You would never be treated like a prisoner or an enemy, nor as any sort of asset or property. You were simply a traveler, a person in need, and eventually a friend to Rohan and the people that dwelled within Edoras.

Something you noticed early on was his absolute devotion to his family. Not just his lineage or his people, not solely to the crown that still sat upon his uncle's head. His sister was his closest friend (and she soon became yours as well) and there was a bond between them you had never born witness to in your disconnected world. The loyalty and affection he showed freely were quickly one of the traits of his character that attracted you to him, as well as his consistent sincerity—there was never a word uttered from his lips that he did not mean or a promise that he failed to keep. He spoke with bluntness plainly, you never had to solve any riddles or secrets. There were never any tiresome games. He just was. The "once loyal, always loyal" sort of person.

And as someone used to a world full of people more concerned with themselves rather than those they claim to love, it's refreshing.

Because of Eomer's need for proof and evidence to be able to believe and understand things that were presented to him, your relationship was also rocky at the start. Yes, you knew he was trustworthy and you felt safe under his care as his sister showed you the ways of their people and clothed you in their garments. You knew no harm would ever come to you as long as Eomer kept watch over your wellbeing. But there was the disconnect between you where emotions and souls come into play–a need for him to have faith in your story, a need to be trusted above reason and common sense.

That would be the great battle throughout your developing feelings for each other; to understand and accept each other and your very different origins. It would be that discourse and the eventual change of heart that would convince Eomer he was in love with the one person who had appeared wandering aimlessly across the Riddermark. And when he was able to accept the heavy truth that you spoke—that not only were the myriad of powers and mystics of his world very real and prevalent, but there was another realm far beyond his own—it would not only prepare him for the throne he would one day succeed, but open his heart to the reality of love itself. That there is more beyond honor and duty, beyond loyalty; there is love, devotion of the heart, and the binding of one soul to another.

Truly, your crossing into Middle-Earth was more than mere chance. It was the dealings of fate, the weaving of a tapestry that spans beyond lands and stars, that brings union and contentedness to those it touches.

To Eomer, you would become more than a dangerous risk or a misunderstanding or a wearied traveler between lands. You would be his life source in a more intimate way than even what he had always known with his family–the love of one's life is one incomparable to all else. His fierce loyalty that you'd observed since your first meeting had become an unsplintering shield. You were now bonded by that same sort of unwavering devotion.

eowyn | word count: 800+

Eowyn, Lady of the Mark, would react much like her brother at first. Suspicious and protective of her people, she would do all she could to ensure that those around you were taking all precautions necessary when you are first brought before the throne. She wouldn't take as long to come around to you as Eomer would, however. She was more prone to trust people and offer them a chance to prove themselves.

You see, Eowyn has a sense about people. She could always read them like an open book, whether they meant to be read or not. And you? Well, she had a feeling you were a good book. Shrouded in mystery and understandably met with fear at first by most of her kin, Eowyn would be the first person of her people to reach out to you as an individual after the initial shock of your sudden arrival and concerning origins.

She'd be the one to bring your meals and stuff extra pastries under the napkin for you (she'd conceited her brother and his men to allow you a room with humble furnishings rather than a cell until they were sure you would not pose a threat) and offer up small talk as best she could. Eventually, though, that small talk turned into stories and memories shared between two fast-growing friends. You told her all about your world, about your home, about the technology and amenities you missed, about the pretty lights of the city at night and the twinkling strings of lights decorating your bedroom walls.

"They're like little bursts of fire within tiny shards of glass, led along a wired string of sorts", you'd tried to explain. You loved the way she listened to your every word, her smiles growing bigger and her eyes reflecting the warmth of the hearth.

You told her about your family and friends and some of your most memorable moments with them. Several of which derived a very contagious laugh from the fair Lady of the Mark. "Tell me more about your homeland!" She would exclaim, offering an encouraging nudge to your knee.

She would spend hours helping you adjust in whatever way you needed. Didn't know how to brush your teeth the medieval way? No problem; Eowyn walked you through the steps. Kept burning your fingertips while trying to light the lanterns and oil-glazed candles? She'd show you how she got around that herself as a child. Wonder what it would be like to fight like the soldiers training in the yard? Eowyn would teach you better than any man could.

You'd always wondered what it was like to experience that best friends to lovers sort of romance—and that's exactly what you found in Eowyn. Although her protective loyalty had set a boundary between you for the first week or so of your unexpected arrival, that loyalty was soon extended to you. She'd be the first person you would really trust, the one you would call for when your dreams turned sour or your loneliness weighed too heavily in the night. She'd be the one who would lead you around Edoras, showing you the beauty of her home and people. She would teach you to bond with your own horse and train you well to become a proficient rider yourself.

The horses (and Eowyn, of course) were really what made you hesitant to ever leave this realm called Middle-Earth if you could. Rohan, their whole culture, was surrounded by the rich history and generous communion with horses. Everything here was tied to legend or powers beyond humanity's limited understanding—but everything was beautiful and enchanting. Their ancestors resided in great halls of kings in the stars. Everything about these people was so rooted in family and kinship. You'd never known anything like it back home.

People in Edoras were kind to each other, save the occasional drunkard. And Eowyn—Eowyn was the brightest star among them all. Compassionate, loyal, and brave. Those were the words you thought of when she came to mind (which was more often than not).

It wouldn't be long after becoming best friends, perhaps a few months, that you would feel things slightly shift between you, and she, you. You wanted more of Eowyn. More hours spent riding together across plains of tall grass and wildflowers. More evenings unraveling the debris of the wind from her unkempt golden hair. Eowyn wanted to share with you her greatest secrets and desires, her darkest fears. She wanted to sleep alongside you, her hands entwined with yours, to ward off the nightmares she often suffered. Eowyn found herself always in want of you; your voice, your presence, your scent. You become her comfort.

No matter how harrowing your appearance had been and the implications of other worlds beyond hers—Eowyn would never once wish that the fates or ancestors hadn't brought you to her across realms. You were everything she'd needed and yearned for in a friend and a partner her whole life, just for someone to see her and hear her.

You'd become everything to each other.

elrond | word count: 1.1k+

The Lord of Rivendell would be no stranger to mysterious visitors happening upon his halls unannounced. In fact, he'd begun to think it almost routine at the rate hobbits, dwarves, and all manner of beings showed up on his doorstep. But there was definitely something different about you, the visitor who claimed to hail from another land—no, you clarified, not just another village or region; another world.

Where cars and trains and buses rattled the bones of the earth and ushered time and society forward at a harrowing speed. Where kingdoms and governments warred endlessly and stars were a rarity to see above the lights of growing cities.

He would be interested in this "advanced" world of yours and desired greatly to learn more about its vast variety of life—but not as much as he was interested in making sure you were acclimating to such a drastic alteration of life itself.

He would be wary of you, due to his wealth of knowledge on all manner of strange magic and ill-boding omens (do you know how many peddling sorcerers and distasteful necromancers this man has had to turn away at his doorstep?). However, Elrond would be much more hospitable from the very beginning than any of his kin. He wouldn't be as off-standish or suspicious of you—at least, not to your face.

You would be given lodging and hearty food almost immediately rather than a cell and modest portions, as well as a servant-guided tour of Rivendell and access to most of the beautiful city (save for the sacred archives and private chambers). He would not only meet with you in the hours he could spare each day to decipher your journey into Middle-Earth, but he would recommend several pieces of history and literature to get you acquainted with the customs and cultures around you. He would let you into the library at any hour you needed, even in the wee morning hours when you couldn't sleep.

A gentleman through and through, your experience with him would be much different than with any other host you might have stumbled across.

He would be undeniably patient as you're thrust into an entirely different way of living in every possible aspect, down to the very brass tacks of human nature. It feels like you're having to be raised again, like how children are taught to take care of themselves and understand the way things and people around them work and operate. There is never a grievance expressed or muttered from him as you excelled with some aspects and struggled through others.

His graciousness and soft-spoken wisdom were just the cusps of how intelligent and tender-hearted the kind elf truly was—all of which you would come to know well when he had had plenty of time to adjust to you. His introvertedness would definitely be a bit of a stunt in the development of your relationship from acquaintances to romantic partners.

He wasn't one to speak just to engage in conversation and keep busy; he only spoke if he truly had something worth saying. That of course makes it difficult for you to try to communicate beyond discussions about your unprecedented situation. But if you asked a question or politely pressed for conversation, he wouldn't deny you his attention either. While this leaves you being the one to strike a majority of the conversations between you (outside of his devoted interest in learning about your situation), you don't mind all that much. You could push through your own social anxieties as long as the person was receptive and open to engagement, and Elrond certainly made extensive efforts to be as much and more.

You liked his quietness, though. It was attractive in a way that made you hang onto every word he did decide to share. It gives you a sense of comfort. It's startling at first, the way you're able to trust him so fast, especially given the absolute madness of your traveling between realms themselves. Surely it was wiser to have your guard up at all times when in a strange new world with such stark contrasts to your own, right?

But you just couldn't bring yourself to doubt someone so compassionate and sincere.

All the while you're slipping fast into fonder feelings with every day that dawns over Rivendell's many waterfalls and etched forests, Elrond is slowly dissecting every thought pertaining to you as it surfaces in his mind. He had already had one great love in his life, the mother of his sons and daughter, a loving lady who had led their kin alongside him. He would feel such a heavy burden of guilt when he realizes the same patterns of infatuation and fondness start to swell over him. The same fluttering, freeing feelings that he had felt with his wife in their early years together. The same wandering of thought, despite his very disciplined nature. The instinct to return to your side when he wasn't busy, as if that was suddenly where he belonged more than in his study or his chambers.

Within a mere few months, it was Lord Elrond who was escorting you to peer at moonlit waterfalls and forests set ablaze with fireflies and starlight. It was he, rather than a servant or guard, who taught you how to mount a steed more than half your height and ride with all the elegance of an elleth. It was he who felt his zeal for excitement return to him when you dared to race him beyond the forest and across the rushing ford. It was Elrond who sat with a smile on his face as he listened eagerly to the cultures that thrived in your world, specifically the details of your own home and heritage.

Although it took time to trust his own heart enough to feel more than politeness for someone, Elrond was no stranger to love or what it felt like. That's probably what would scare him so much when he first starts to feel himself becoming attached to you—the realization that somewhere along the discussions about your homeworld and the hours poured over tomes and memories...he was falling in love again.

Another facet of your growing relationship that would shock him would be the fact that he'd fallen in love with a human? Of course, he was the most tolerant of the race of men across all of his elven kin, but even that tolerance hadn't prepared him for the day he would face the same risk of love that his daughter had faced (you know, the courtship with a human that he'd told her to leave behind for immortality? Well, now he's facing the same question, darn it). He would absolutely need the approval of his children before even making a single stride in pursuing something beyond friendship with you, something permanent (spoiler alert, they would absolutely bless your courtship).

arwen | word count: 500+

Arwen Undómiel would be very open and intrigued by your arrival, especially when she notices how out of place you seemed to be, not only among her people but with the way of life itself in Middle-Earth. It isn't until she inquires about your odd behavior (the asking about cellphones and electricity and other foreign amenities) to her father that she realizes you had hailed from another world entirely—not just another region or from somewhere beyond the mountains. Learning this, her intrigue only grows.

She was a lady who adored her people and the comforts of her home, but was not a stranger to adventure and the restlessness that accompanies a free spirit. Because of her love for exploring and learning, you're like a perfect mixture of mysterious and confusing. She might not have understood how travel between realms was at all possible, but she didn't mind not knowing. After all, many of her kin were gradually departing to the Undying Lands beyond the sea—a place that, in its simplest explanation, was a sanctuary divided from the common world of Middle-Earth. If such a place as that could exist just beyond the western horizon, then surely it was not so outlandish to think that there were even broader realms beyond that.

Arwen, as stated before, is a very open individual when it comes to expressing her feelings and saying exactly what she means. There is no loitering about wondering about this or that—when Arwen desires to become your friend rather soon after your arrival in her father's halls, she does just that.

She would help you adjust to things with an abundance of patience and sincere interest. She would be excited to teach you about her people and her world—about its histories and legends. But even more so, Arwen would be of even more aid when it came to helping you work through your sporadic emotions as the shock and remorse of your situation became clearer with each day. Of course it was exciting to suddenly find yourself in a world as illustrious and peaceful as this one—but there was a home, a family, and a slew of friends and interests that had been left behind without warning. She doesn't belittle or rush your grieving process, and instead becomes your confidante and place of refuge.

She would speak on your behalf to her father, about what you might need or what you were struggling to understand. She would be your voice until you were able to get your bearings and become more and more comfortable while so far from everything you once knew to be true.

In short, she isn't one to be afraid of her feelings or have any reservations of expressing them the moment she becomes aware of them for herself. Because of that kind of communication and the way she would devote herself to helping you from the very first day, it doesn't take long before she confesses that she harbors a fondness for you, like how the moon has a fondness for the sea; how her father harbored a fondness for her mother, and still does.

It's her openness and her lack of fear in expression herself that draws you both together from the first moments you share. From then, your friendship developed naturally into something of romantic permanence. As your place in her world became cemented, your place in her heart flourished with unabashed sincerity.

legolas | word count: 500+

Legolas would be very suspicious and observant of you for quite some time before even engaging with you, much like his friendship with Gimli. Already being someone of very few words, Legolas would take his time in getting to know you before having even said a word to you. He was raised to be suspicious and discerning of "outsiders"; woodland elves, specifically those native to Mirkwood, were known for their suspicion and distrust of others, even their own kin.

So getting acquainted and close to someone who's not only not an elf or from Mirkwood, but also not even from Middle-Earth itself? That's gonna be a big barrier for him to get around and it's going to take time to achieve that familiarity and comfortability around you.

But when he does—it comes from seeing how you are with his friends, such as Aragorn and Gimli. His gradual trust builds up not from interacting with you for himself, but from observing how you communicated with others and treated his friends and allies. When he's more or less sure of your character, he would then venture into becoming friends. What he doesn't expect, however, is how quickly that friendship became something so much more to him.

Perhaps because he'd been getting to know you from afar and seeing how kind and generous you were with his loved ones despite the sheer confusion and fear you must be feeling every day in his strange world. It was one thing to venture away from home in search of adventure, even among unfamiliar faces, like he had. It was another entirely to be ripped from your world and everyone you knew, away from your kin and your people, away from your family, without any sort of warning or choice. He comes to admire you and the bravery you displayed every day just by choosing to exist in his world and trying your best to become a part of it.

Then he would notice how you'd been taught to fish with just a shaft and some thin twine by Aragorn's hand. How you kept absorbing skills as though you were a sponge, desperate to cling to any sort of help. This is when he would reach out and offer you archery lessons because "everyone should learn to have some skill with either a blade or a bow. It is better if you know both—but in your case, I think we should start with one." And you chose the bow, telling him how you admired how beautiful of a weapon it was, how graceful. You'd seen it in movies and read about great archers—you'd always wanted to be one. And so Legolas, though he had no idea what a movie was, vows to make you proficient with a bow.

It's really your devotion to learning about his world, about his friends, and eventually about him that really snares him in the end. The way you refused to wither and panic within the shelter of one of many great cities in Middle Earth, but instead wanted to see the world and get your bearings, despite how obviously unsteady it often made you feel. For you, you'd not only been brought to another world, but a world that was supposedly far behind in its technology. Everything had completely changed for you and yet you still worked hard to make something good out of your predicament. It's that bravery that pulls him to you.

galadriel | word count: 300+

Someone as wise and clairvoyant as the Lady of Lothlorien would not be surprised at your unprecedented arrival across realms. She had probably (listerally) seen you coming long before your arrival (remember that magic basin of psychic water she traumatized Frodo with?). Her ability to read the minds of others offered her an immediate leeway into your intentions and sincerity. This meant that while she was still careful with you, she was well aware that you posed no threat or harm to her people.

You, on the other hand, were more than wary of her upon your first meeting. It wasn't just the shock of entering a new world that made your heart uneasy to trust—but something about the ethereal, untouchable power about the Lady Galadriel herself that left you teetering into doubt and discomfort. While her beauty and gentleness made her alluring and with time to develop that trust, your doubts faded. Her goodness and generosity proved time and time again that her power wasn't something to fear.

Something that made her so wonderful once you grew trusting of her was how much she believed you—largely due to her ability to read minds and people themselves—and never doubted your character or motives.

Hailing from a world hewn with distrust and malice, the calm pace and sincerity in which Middle-Earth (and Lothlorien especially) was governed made you hopeful for what sort of life could be made there.

With the help and generosity of your hostess, you soon considered Lothlorien your home. Not just for its beauty and its sort of magnificence that you'd never seen in your world before—but also for the lady who watched diligently over her forest and her people. In time, you came to consider her your closest friend, someone you could wholeheartedly trust with your life.

Galadriel would find your naivety of her realm intriguing and would be more than happy to offer herself as your guide. She would find your tendency for loud bursts of laughter and curt outspokenness refreshing in a culture of hushed voices and gracious tones.

All in all, you're both quite a mystery for each other to solve. Luckily, neither of you mind the adventure of getting to know one another.

haldir | word count: 600+

To say that your first meeting had also been a bit of a rough start was the understatement of the century. I mean, who would react well to having a dozen arrows poised inches from their face while trying to find their way out of an unfamiliar forest? Your fear had quickly turned to frustration and anger, despite the threat of being pierced with the polished shafts of their arrows. Your quick turn to anger stunned the very poised marchwarden—it wasn't often that intruders grew hostile when threatened at the neck. Typically, people would stare back in silence like a doe stunned by fear.

A mixture of terror, exhaustion, hunger and dehydration had driven your more cooperative senses from your caliber of responses, evidently.

After you'd recovered well enough to be questioned over a generous meal, it was very obvious you were simply lost. Very, very lost. Of no threat to his people or the sacred forest they dwelled in, Haldir would have no issue in setting his pride aside to apologize for frightening you.

Soft-spoken and introverted, Haldir would have that wall of kind politeness that was at first almost polarizing to someone who'd just had the shock of their life by entering an entirely new realm in a split second. It would be many awkward attempts at sifting through your explanations and anxious emotions before Haldir was able to gauge how you would feel more inclined to trust him. And in order to achieve your trust, he would need to let you (a stranger, mind you) break through those carefully learned guards to see the real him behind the graceful countenance and elegant sentences.

It was your desperation to find answers, to understand if you had gone mad or if something so radical could have truly taken place, that sparked in Haldir the great need to console you. Generally, elves were calm and uninvolved beings—to those not understanding of their ways, they might even appear void of emotion. But that couldn't be any further from the truth. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

As your time in his homeland spanned from weeks to months, Haldir grew more and more attached to your side. Devoted to your wellbeing, he became more of a confidant and friend than the simple guide he had volunteered to be for you at the start. The softhearted nature that flourished within him bloomed around you, finding a home to take root in.

Your knowledge and straightforwardness about what you needed at any given time, whether it was a hot bath or an audience with the Lady Galadriel herself, struck a chord of admiration with Haldir. He didn't like having to piece together the riddles that strangers often gave when they were prejudiced or distrusting. Your sincerity in such matters, no matter how embarrassing or seemingly insignificant, quite honestly inspired the skilled marchwarden. With such honesty, he didn't have to work so hard to get the answers he needed to best help you.

In return, it's his diligence in his help that draws you to him. The absolution he promised with every request he listened to—there was never a question or a need he left unresolved for you. If you'd asked for your favorite meal from your world, he'd find some way to have it made for you. If you'd gone to him in a fit of tears and in need of comfort, his arms would be the first to be open to you.

It wasn't that you were a basket case, mind you (and if you were, he'd never let you or anyone around you use such insensitive terminology for your very validated expressions of distress). It was simply that you'd never been so vulnerable and in need of someone before. And Haldir, well...Haldir had never felt so inclined to a soul before, so effortlessly devoted and tethered as if some string was being pulled taught between you.

Haldir relished in being able to be of service to you.

And you held fast to the curious needing you felt for him.

gimli | word count: 400+

From the moment he met you, Gimli knew something wasn't quite right. Sure, you weren't waving the tips of pointy weapons or spitting out slews of evil curses at people—but you were like a shard of sea glass among grey stones. Everything about your stature, the way you spoke and carried yourself, the way you interpreted the world and its people around you...it was all so different from anyone he'd ever met before.

For starters, you're much more outspoken than anyone he'd come to know. You weren't afraid to speak your mind (and even include the occasional profanity to get your point across) in any given occasion or setting, even among elven nobility. The time you practically cursed his fair-haired elven friend Legolas out was an afternoon he'd not soon forget. Especially since the whole ordeal, which he conveniently didn't recall the details of, had most definitely been Gimli's fault rather than the prince's.

He wasn't too keen on trying to understand all the details about your predicament or how you came to be in this realm of all places. Gimli never asked for more of an explanation than you were willing to give, which was something you found quite refreshing amidst a slew of people who had been asking questions upon questions since your peculiar arrival to Middle-Earth. You knew you didn't have to explain yourself to him or try to make sense of it all in order to be believed—the red-haired dwarf simply nodded through his pipe smoke and moved on.

In all honesty, Gimli hadn't thought much of you at first, the same way he didn't think much about anyone until it was apparent their paths would cross more than once. He didn't give much effort into friendships that weren't of substance, despite the loss of much of his kin. If anything, it was harder for him to attach himself to friends now than it ever had been before due to the great losses he had suffered.

But when he does get accustomed to you, it's all over for him. Once Gimli gets attached to a friend or partner, his dwarven passion for loyalty and honor kicks in. He understands you're not familiar with this place, whether that meant Gondor or Edoras or any other region beyond Middle-Earth, and that's enough for him to believe you and offer some sympathies to your situation. He was kind of the same, you know. Far from home without any of his kin left to visit or send word to.

All in all, Gimli likes your modern gumption, your fighting spirit, and that occasionally sour tongue of yours. And although it's obvious he didn't have to protect you when you were very efficient in doing so for yourself, he would gladly spend an age or two by your side offering his services as a companion—and someday, perhaps as much more, if you'd allow it.

frodo | word count: 400+

Somewhat of an expert in the joys and terrors of adventuring, Frodo Baggins would be a most empathetic and compassionate companion to have upon crossing into his realm from your own homeworld. More than anyone, he would understand the pressures of having to keep it all together in the presence of unfamiliar faces. When he had been the ring bearer, shouldering an object with the very sentience of darkness within it, the fear and desperation had nearly overtaken him as he traveled into forests and mountains he'd never ventured to before. He couldn't imagine traveling between worlds—realms of existence entirely. 

He would value the trust that you placed in him, handling it with the utmost care. His skill for listening is unparalleled, as is the wisdom he offers in return for your woes. 

Frodo would find your situation extraordinary and fantastic. He wouldn't be able to resist asking all of his questions and brimming with excitement about this realm of yours beyond his reach. He would, however, do his best to temper his ecstatic humoring in favor of handling your delicate situation with attention and care. He found himself reminded of the years he spent as a young boy listening to Bilbo's stories of his grand adventures with goblin kings and dwarf lords and fire drakes from the north. 

Imagine hours of pouring over books and scribbled notes his uncle had left behind for him, huddled near each other by a warm fire in his home. Papers and stacks of sifted lore and myth, anything pertaining to what had brought you to Middle-Earth, littering the floor around your folded legs and shared quilt. He would dedicate himself to helping you find the answers you were looking for, even in his small corner of the world (don't worry, he has this friend who's a king somewhere out on the southern plains who would be more than happy to lend some scrolls and tomes).

To Frodo, your mere existence is illuminating. Just having you pop up in his favorite glen while he was spending his usual afternoon reading was enough for him to strike an interest in you. You were yet another adventure, living and breathing, waltzing into his life. Sure enough, you become an answer to the hobbit's dwindling hopes for normalcy, thinking perhaps he was destined to the fate of bachelorhood and haunted memories, the same as his uncle. 

You show him that it is possible for Frodo to have another adventure—one that won't cost him his soul or his life. (Just maybe his heart.)

samwise | word count: 500+

Samwise Gamgee knows a fool when he sees one—after all, he'd grown up with Merry and Pippin in his circle of friends. So when he's the first to believe you out of the tale-spinners and prank-weavers of the Shire, it's a relief to say the least.

He'd invite you into his home, seeing as you were so far away from yours and had no way of going back. He would offer you his pantry, his sunroom, his best linens and finest silk nightgown. There would be afternoons of gardening and learning a trade for yourself that would both provide food on the table and a bit of coin in the markets. Sam would be more than delighted to have a houseguest to cook for, seeing as his Old Gaffer wasn't one to spice up the recipes very often. But for you, Sam would cook a feast. He'd even sit down with you and help you write out recipes that reminded you of home, meals that wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a cold day. He'd grow flowers you remembered seeing in your mother's garden.

Somehow, even so far away from your world and your home and your friends and family, Samwise Gamgee would give you a sense of home you'd never encountered before.

It was so exceedingly rare to find people so willing to lend such a selfless hand to others in need. Helping a strange person he'd never met find their way through Hobbiton was one thing—but inviting them into his home and giving them a place to stay and warm meals to eat without anything in return? Quite literally offering the (night) shirt off his back? You'd never been extended such kindness before.

When Sam realizes how much of a stranger you are to such hospitality, he would go all out with everything he possibly could. Finding it rather sad that you'd come from such a dismal world that was void of such simple acts of kindness, Sam can't help but want to display every possible act of kindness he can think of.

And Samwise found in you the purpose he'd yearned for all his life—the chance to be something for someone that no one else could, the chance to make a difference simply by being himself and doing what it is he does best. Although it was difficult for you to navigate through the differences and the culture shock of his world and his land—there was really very little to complain about when you find yourself in the Shire (except maybe those pesky neighbors who have nothing better to do than to stick their noses in your business between meals).

Eager to be at ease and belong, you are more than willing to learn all that Sam can teach you and his way of life. Your acceptance and sense of humor, joking about things he didn't quite understand (What was that you'd said about looking "at all those chickens"? Those had definitely been ducks swimming in the pond that day), worked together to win Sam's heart in no time.

It really didn't take long before Sam was fonder of seeing you disheveled in the mornings and in his borrowed nightgown than fixed up for the day ahead; for him to cherish those small domestic moments you'd both begun to share as time wore on. Before long, Sam found himself daydreaming of dances and the music of flutes and fiddles to set the pace.

merry | word count: 500+

This rascal would absolutely not believe a word that comes out of your mouth about whatever peculiar land it is you keep droning on about. Automobiles? Airplanes? Lanterns that work without fire? Portion control and food pyramids dictated by the government? What the bloody hell was all that nonsense? (Dark magic or the result of some soured Old Toby, he was sure of it.)

He'd volunteer himself to be your official tour guide to Middle-Earth, claiming he'd been as far as Mordor once (wherever that was, you had no idea) and was, therefore, the best guide anyone could ask for this side of Brandywine River.

For the longest time, Merry really thinks you're spinning tall tales about this world you came from with all these fancy doohickeys he hadn't a clue about. As someone proficient in telling exaggerated memoirs and pulling indulgent pranks, he would for the longest time assume that your explanation of origin was one and the same. Listen, he'd seen the weird stuff out there, probably as much of it as there was to see, and there definitely wasn't any Europes or Americas or Indias or anyplace else you kept mentioning.

When he's taking you on a stroll along his favorite trade route all the way to the Breelands and back home, any mention of your predicament (beyond being a lost traveler far from home) was met with a mischievous scoff and a twisted grin. Once, with a mouthful of fresh summer berry bread, he'd made such an expression of dubious skepticism that he hadn't needed to even utter the "uh-huh, sure" along with it.

He meant no harm in his teasing disbelief, of course, but sometimes the gradual accumulation of it got on your nerves. While Merry was fun, kind, and a very joyful and admirable hobbit to be around...sometimes it felt as though you were trying to convince a toadstool that its colors were indeed brown and not blue.

He's fond of you already, of course, nearly upon the moment he met you—who else was he taking on his little adventures across the many borders within the region of Eriador apart from Pippin and a batch of Old Toby?

As weeks pass and one day, his distrust in your explanations pricks a little too far beneath your skin, your bout of aggravated and fearful tears came as a shock to the hobbit. It's in that moment sat across from each other with a small campfire between you that his carefree persona faltered with guilt.

Oh, he thinks. You're telling the truth about all that.

From that moment on, he would be the most expressive and compassionate person you had ever met. He'd be sure you were getting your daily dose of sunlight and ale for the day, as well as whatever desserts or hearty meals you felt inclined to indulge. You'd become attached at the hip and wherever Merry (and usually Pippin) went, you were there with him (them). He'd already been welcoming and friendly to you, but now he had this sort of tenderness in his gaze that you thought might melt you through like a chocolate drop in the oven. And if anyone were to express the same sort of doubts or contribute to the rumor mill around Hobbiton about you, he'd put an end to it before it had gone beyond the hedges of Bagshot Row.

pippin | word count: 400+

Much like his rapscallion counterpart, Pippin's first impression would be that your whole story about arriving from another realm was a fabrication of your very active imagination. He and Merry had spun their fair share of tall tales and mischief as far and wide as the town of Bree and the little villages along the Brandywine river.

Unlike Merry, though, Pippin's reason for skepticism wasn't even so much skepticism as it was ignorance. He'd never knowingly poke fun at what you were going through, whether he thought it exaggerated or not. Pippin just truly didn't think it was at all possible for other places to exist. He really thinks you're joking or unsure of what you're even saying for the longest time.

But when Pippin figures it out after you become a sordid mess of blubbering tears over a pint of ale outside the Green Dragon Inn, he realizes everything you'd been trying to explain hadn't been a "really wonderful story" you'd been working on. It was how you'd come to be in the Shire, in Eriador, in Middle-Earth at all.

"There's no use cryin' ov'r a pint, (Y/n)! Ded someone let the barrel sour?"

You sniffled, trying to dry your eyes with the back of your hand before they were too heavy to extinguish. "It's not—it's not soured, Pip."

"Oh. Then what—?" He took a moment to understand. You'd been talking about a dog with two mismatching socks on its paws. A bedroom with fairies for lights and walls made of printed paintings. The way you'd been describing everything was almost too detailed to be off the top of your head...and then he realizes.

Pippin would buy you another pint, one untainted by salty tears. He'd do his best to listen more, although he still misinterpreted much of what you tried to explain. But it was better now, knowing that he was trying to comprehend this world of yours, rather than committing it to his memory as a tavern story.

He'd be excited to learn about what sort of drinks and food and pipeweed you had in your world and what sort of music your village danced to at seasonal festivities.

While Pippin may not be able to really grasp the extent of what you're explaining, that perhaps entire realms exist beyond the very vast one he had traveled across himself, you are reassured that he does at least believe you and understands the jest of it. And somehow, that's all you really needed—someone to just listen to what you were trying to say, to take your truth for what it was.

(Of course, this confirmation that you're really an "other-worlder" as he coined it means that he's designated himself to acclimate you to the life of a hobbit to its full extremities. This includes seven meals a day, which you're more than happy to oblige.)

TAGS:  @moony-artnstuff @wellfuckmyexistence @tessaem @izbelross @bloodblossom73

#lord of the rings #lord of the rings preferences #the lord of the rings preferences #fanfiction #aragorn preference #aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine #aragorn fanfic #lotr imagine #lotr preferences #lotr imagines #lord of the rings imagines #pippin took x reader #pippin took imagine #legolas x reader #legolas imagine #eomer x reader #eomer imagine #eowyn imagine #eowyn x reader #faramir x reader #boromir x reader #boromir imagine #boromir preference #faramir imagine #faramir preference #arwen x reader #arwen imagine #arwen preference #legolas preference

[neuroprincess]

☆ LOTR | HOBBIT MASTERLIST ☆

MAIN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | open requests

♡ fluff | ☆ smut | ❀ angst

⤷ Arwen

To be written...

⤷ Éowyn

To be written...

⤷ Galadriel

To be written...

⤷ Tauriel

To be written...

⤷ Headcanons

To be written...

⤷ Preferences

To be written...

⤷ Special | Fanfiction

To be written...

#the lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr #arwen x reader #eowyn x reader #galadriel x reader #tauriel x reader #headcanon #one shot #fanfiction #preferences #neuroprincess

[threecheersmaka]

Controversial lotr opinion that might make book purists pee their pants but I preferred the movie portrayal of Faramir (and by extension how the films handled Denethor and Boromir) because his familial dynamic is SO much more interesting there

#also prefer how eowyn in handled in the movies but i tihnk thats kind of um. an obvious one #unless youre a fucking catholic #shut up maka

[emilybeemartin]

Just to tie in my two themes this month----

Additional notes, because poll options apparently limit their characters:

Frodo finds great peace in watching the tides rise and fall throughout each day. He attends all the ranger programs on birds and seashells and fills pages with sketches and poetry.

Sam meticulously selects postcards in the gift shop for each of his friends and spends a whole morning writing and addressing them. He also buys Junior Ranger hats for his kids and a variety of Appalachian jams for Rosie.

Park rangers launch a Missing Person search for Aragorn when they realize his car's been parked at Avalanche Creek for three days. The search runs for almost a week before he comes strolling out the opposite side of the park, supporting one of the SAR techs who twisted an ankle during the search.

Legolas is first drawn to Olympic for the towering, mossy temperate rainforests, but the ground goes out from under him when he steps onto Second Beach for the first time. He spends an entire day watching the light and tides shift on the sea stacks, and he leaves feeling both full and hollow, like a bell that's just been rung.

Mammoth is only Gimli's first stop on a cavern tour, followed by Jewel and Wind Caves and Carlsbad Caverns. Wind Cave is his favorite for the unusual formations. He makes an obnoxious tween boy cry in Carlsbad for breaking off a speleothem.

Boromir is on a tour of military parks. He asks so many questions to the intern working the info station at Fort Sumter the kid has to go find the park historian. His favorite site is Vicksburg because that place was buckwild, though he silently judges one of the reenactors for his clumsy handling of a black powder rifle.

Merry also makes stops in Jurassic and Dinosaur National Monuments. He watches every park video, takes selfies in front of all the fossil exhibits, and earns his Junior Ranger badge at each one. He buys a keychain for Pippin.

Pippin actually gets four citations, mostly for trying to stick his hands in mud pots. He doesn't mean anything by it---he's just so delighted and curious about the bizarre landscape. He winds up with several thermal burns and dumps a king's ransom in the donation box on his last day.

Gandalf gets dinged by rangers for not paying the $5 fee for Trunk Bay, but he acts senile until they eventually decide to drop it. He gets postcards from everyone and responds to none of them.

Faramir and Eowyn are traveling together and do many of the same hikes and rides, but they do have some different preferences off-trail. Eowyn drags Faramir to a rodeo and the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar in Jackson Hole, and he goads her into Ranger Shelton Johnson's living history programs on the Buffalo Soldiers in Yosemite.

Eomer is bike-packing on his sport cruiser motorcycle. He goes to Roosevelt south unit for the wild horse herds but ends up spending half a day watching a prairie dog town. He takes 400 photos of them, mostly blurry, and texts them to Eowyn.

#i actually did legit trip planning for this post #whats my choice? #I'm the ranger in Yellowstone who keeps finding Pippin putting his face in the goddamn paint pots #during office hours I follow the updates of the SAR in Glacier #after that I catch up with Faramir in Teton to hike Paintbrush Divide and casually ask what his brother's up to #oh he's going to be at Fort Laramie next week? #you don't say #when I get back to YELL I put in for emergency days off #do i give a damn about Fort Laramie? no #lord of the rings #lotr #frodo #sam #aragorn #legolas #gimli #boromir #merry #pippin #gandalf #eowyn #faramir #eomer #national parks #31 days of national parks

[shirefantasies]

Can I please request a preference thing with how the fellowship (maybe plus eomer, Arwen, eowyn and Haldir if you also write for them) react to a person they have a crush on who is physically affectionate with their friends.

The person holds their hand, puts their head on their shoulder, plays with their hair, cuddles etc.

Oh heck yessss! I do plan on writing for them too so here’s a good start 🥰 hope you enjoy this! Also, cut because loooong post 😉

LoTR Characters When You’re Naturally Physically Affectionate

Aragorn

✧ Is kind of surprised but also plays it off??? Like he doesn’t want to get his hopes up and assume anything wrong at least at first.

✧ Initiates back but in really soft ways, like tugging your blankets up higher about you when he sees you’ve fallen asleep at night.

✧ Smiles privately to himself on a later evening when you fall asleep at his side, head snug against his shoulder. The fact that you trust him so well is something he truly hopes to be worthy of, just like the glowing feeling in his heart.

✧ One day you straight-up just slide the ring of Barahir off his hand to try it on yourself, not fully aware of its significance. You mean it no harm and do even less, and something about the gesture touches Aragorn so all he does is smile and shake his head, asking if it fits.

✧ You soften him so much, so much you can see it in his eyes and his actions. When you brush some of his hair back out of his face, he kisses your hands lightly, eyes searching yours.

Legolas

✧ Kind of in a state of perpetual surprised pikachu around you tbh

✧ Like sure, his best friends don’t come from the same culture so he sees enough of that, but they aren’t usually very affectionate with him in that way so you casually sliding a hand over his shoulders to get something behind him has him flustered in a way he hasn’t felt before.

✧ Finds himself mirroring your actions a bit in his own way; he pulls you back from harm by your waist or elbow, holding on just a bit longer than he absolutely needs to.

✧ His eyes widen when you tell him his hair is beautiful and ask to braid it, but he accepts because what harm can it do? You tell him you’re doing a French braid and he’s relishing your touch, asking you to explain what that is.

✧ Smooth prince pulls the ‘your hands are cold’ on you to flip the script and let you know the affection is reciprocated, cradling your hands so gently in his own.

Boromir

✧ Is surprised by your forwardness, but in the most pleasant way. He loves someone who comes across so warm and hearty!

✧ The first time you clap a hand to his shoulder after a good fight, he mirrors the gesture immediately with a great warrior’s camaraderie without realizing anything.

✧ Goes from surprised to grinning when you offer to braid some hair out of his face for him. Milks the crap out of it, tilting so he can feel your touch as much as possible!

✧ Has no qualms about holding your arm or hand to walk together since you don’t, always offering it like a gentleman.

✧ Holds you back from danger firmly, keeping his grip as he whispers to you to stay back, care for you burning fiercely in his eyes. When you’re safe from harm, he finally voices how much you mean to him.

Gimli

✧ His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline when you first get comfortable enough to act that way, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love it!

✧ Dwarves are arguably the most physical race, so the fact that you express yourself this way is only the most pleasant of shocks.

✧ You find yourself playing with his hair one day and he stiffens, reminding himself over and over again as you begin twisting it into braids that unfortunately the significance is not the same for you as it is him. Maybe one day…

✧ Loves that you grab his arm when you laugh and elbow him playfully; begins doing the same right back and telling more jokes as an excuse for you both to do it more!

✧ Because you tend to lean on him in conversation or when you’re tired, Gimli sort of develops this habit of affectionate mini-headbutts like a cat. Your forehead? Softly bonked often by your favorite dwarf but only when his helmet is off of course 😌

Frodo

✧ It’s not a culture shock for him, so it’s not a source of confusion but it does have him overthinking because are you just doing it as intimate friends or…?

✧ Basically short-circuits for a second the first time you take his hand, sliding his palm against yours to compare the sizes of them; his eyes widen, but a smile gradually forms upon his face at the warm contact.

✧ Adores the way you sit close to him to read together or tell stories, your arms flush together as you share warmth- it’s like a little piece of home.

✧ Doubly so when you see the toll the ring takes on him and run a soothing hand up and down his back- he could practically tear up from gratitude and the way his heart explodes for you.

✧ You kissed him on the cheek once when he gifted you a sketch he knew you’d like and that feeling joins the imaginations and memories swirling through his head before sleep or when he loses sight of all the world’s blessings beneath the ring’s voice. He wonders if you know what a treasure you are- perhaps he’ll tell you tomorrow.

Sam

✧ What are you trying to do, kill him? JK mostly but man will be blushing constantly around someone like you!

✧ Leans into your touch so hard when you play with his hair, softly brushing leaves and tangled alike from the curls unabashedly like a sweet puppy.

✧ But also? Sam isn’t afraid to gently ask for what he wants from time to time? “Oh, um, I was wondering…got a real bad knot here and I just wanted to see if you were up to one of your famous massages?”

✧ You took his hand once to lead him off to look at some gorgeous flowers he could identify, so Sam finds himself plucking up the courage to take yours after a fight once, swearing he means to his best to protect you.

✧ Wraps his extra blanket around you so gently, smiling as your hands brush his to accept the new warmth about your shoulders, lingering over them for a moment.

Merry

✧ He’s a bit of a physical person too and teasing to boot so you two quickly become two peas in a pod!

✧ Both of you will teasingly sling arms around the other’s shoulders as you joke around or have mock conferences.

✧ Footsie at campfire time. Gimli complains about it a little because something about thinking you’re going to make him spill his soup or whatever, but you two barely pay attention when all your focus is on your childish little nudging game!

✧ Every now and again he just gets the widest smile at your antics, though, grinning as you sit with your arm in his or a hand resting upon his back.

✧ Will straight-up tell you you’re being adorable, then skip off smirking when he’s finally gotten you to be a bit flustered! You can’t even come up with a comeback to that for once…but maybe a confession? Big brain Merry wbk 👀

Pippin

✧ He’s in heaven, actually. Physical affection is his favorite and the one thing that ever stops him is being unsure if the other party will be uncomfortable. But you clearly aren’t, so game on 😎

✧ You got something out of his hair then ended up playing with his curls for a bit, brushing them back into place and arranging them, so he ups that by brushing some out of your face the next chance he gets, eyes never leaving yours.

✧ Since Pippin loves to sing and dance, he’s always pulling you to your feet to join him. But it doesn’t stop there of course as he holds your hand or waist depending on how open of a twirl the song entails!

✧ You two never sit up straight- someone’s head is always on the other’s shoulder or if you’re both feeling the lean, your heads are resting gently against each other, holding each other up.

✧ When he worries, you lay your hand over his and that’s it for him. He knows he’s lost, not even caring if you see how much love is in his eyes as he looks at you, especially when you gently squeeze it.

Eomer

✧ Unlearning his toxic masculinity a bit, so he is hesitant to initiate back at first, but as time goes on he can’t help questioning if there truly is more to your intentions…

✧ You tease him a lot, trying to get him to drop the serious facade, so putting your hands on his shoulders and making eye contact for mocking pep talks just has him chuckling and shaking his head at you.

✧ But when you wordlessly begin massaging his shoulders after a long day of training, hands kneading out tension in the most wondrous of ways, that has him flushing and trying to glance back at your expression without you noticing, hoping he can read something, anything.

✧ Eomer loves the way you push him when you laugh, hands against his chest or arm as you fall upon him in mirth. And if his arm ends up around you during that process? Oh well 😏

✧ Gets highkey jealous if he sees you being affectionate with anyone else, pouting because he thought he was special 🥺…but only for a moment before he’s marching over there to tell you how he feels once and for all, confessing his desire to be the one receiving most of your affection!

Haldir

✧ It definitely takes him some getting used to because he is a more reserved person and physical affection is a bit less common in elf culture…we’ve seen how surprised he is about hugs after all 😉

✧ Makes it his personal mission not to jump whenever your habit of tapping his shoulder to get attention comes into play, trying to stay stock-still and cool as a cucumber, but he can’t help feeling the corners of his mouth tug up at your giggle when he fails.

✧ Loses his absolute mind the day you gently run your fingers up his arm to get your attention, like it can’t escape your notice how he tenses, can it?

✧ Haldir expresses himself more with his words than with physical action. Every time you go out he makes sure you’re properly armed or dressed for the weather, and he always sharpens your sword himself, no one else is allowed to do it.

✧ Your actions are definitely a prompt to confess for him, like he would have sat on his feelings for quite some time but in the end he can’t help coming up to you to question your behavior and if it has any of the intent he dearly hopes it does!

Eowyn

✧ She isn’t used to this given her upbringing, but in all honesty it’s refreshing and she enjoys the feeling of love and comfort it brings.

✧ You see her looking worried and squeeze her shoulder, pulling her into your arms when she turns around. You can just feel her exhale, tension melting from her body.

✧ It quickly becomes you two’s ‘thing’ to link arms and you almost always walk together like that, screw whatever Grima has to say about it he won’t be around for long anyway 😏

✧ She thinks her heart is about to burst the day you two make home of the hills for an afternoon and you sit her down to weave flowers in her beautiful golden hair. Your hands are so gentle, never causing a single pull or tangle.

✧ She is forward with her words even if it takes some time, so one day Eowyn pulls you aside and with her hand in yours tells you how much she appreciates the glow of your presence in her life, the smiles you bring her.

Arwen

✧ Most people aren’t very playful with her, so she finds it very refreshing how relaxed, affectionate, and fun you are.

✧ You grab her hand and swing your joined hands between the two of you and all she can do is laugh merrily!

✧ One day, she wants to try the new sweets you’ve made, but imagine her surprise when you hand-feed it to her. Being an elf of such poise and grace, she doesn’t make a mess at all somehow despite her eyes firmly being on yours and nowhere near your creation 👀

✧ Arwen’s favorite habit of yours is the way you’ll take her hand and spontaneously twirl her around like you’re showing her off or having an impromptu dance. It lightens the weight of all other things for a moment and makes her feel like a queen!

✧ Repaying the favor, she makes sure you’re her first dance at every party. You open her up, giving her complete comfort to approach you and interlock your fingers, asking you if you won’t please her with your company for a bit. Of course you always say yes- you would even if she didn’t given you that teasing smile.

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr x reader #lotr imagines #the fellowship of the ring #aragorn #aragorn x reader #legolas #legolas x reader #boromir #boromir x reader #gimli #gimli x reader #frodo #frodo x reader #sam #sam x reader #merry #merry x reader #pippin #pippin x reader #eomer #eomer x reader #haldir #haldir x reader #eowyn #eowyn x reader #arwen #arwen x reader #gender neutral reader

[gideonisms]

eowyn should have been a lesbian. Eowyn/faramir is like, fine, but it misses the point of eowyn for all baby dyke eowyn stans which is not that she longs for glory in battle and doesn't realize war is ugly and brutal, but that she's caught between two awful options and she doesn't want to be given one based on her gender. She's not in love with aragorn, she envies him because she finds the tasks he has in life more preferable and she hero worships him. Is this the point Tolkien was trying to make? Well, no,

#look it is LESS objectionable than other similar fantasy storylines because tolkien is making a point about the brutality of war #but i do think he correctly observes a particular impulse in some women without fully understanding the underlying tensions #he's like. for reasons unknown some women would prefer to face horrible dangerous circumstances than stay at home & tend the family castle #don't you see the castle is the important thing! #the castle is more important yes that's not the POINT #anyway. it will not be until many years later that some of those baby dykes will be able to articulate the vague feeling of betrayal #guy jobs are horrible and exploitative too on this we agree. but you see some of us will die if we have to figure out how to be nurturing

[orchideous-nox]

The Amazing Devil are underrated storytellers

Like I'm sure many people did, I discovered alt-folk band The Amazing Devil through Joey Batey as a fan of The Witcher. Someone on TikTok was talking about the song Fair and how the actor who plays Jaskier (or Dandelion, depending on preference of material) from The Witcher sang it.

Instantly, I knew I had to listen to this song and I sat with it on repeat for an hour, picking through references and laughing at how pure and simple the love conveyed in those words was. It's the kind of love you dream of, where your partner completes you and life without them seems impossible. A love that goes beyond you both, as if there was no choice but to fall for one another. It's not pretentious or impossible to understand. It's universal and I fell in love with it.

Months later, I found Battle Cries, a song of overlapping whimsies. It tells the tale of two lovers ending their relationship and trying to find pieces of calmness in the uproar of their breakup, comparing it to a war not just between each other but within themselves. There a metaphors deeply woven within the lyrics and each line is magic as Joey and Madeleine sing over each other, words occasionally syncing up, representing the way they struggle to feel in tune with each other at the end of their relationship.

Battle Cries lead me to Marbles, the story of a couple where one of them is suffering from memory loss, the trials and tribulations of watching the person you love forget who they are and who you are too. It is a beautifully told story that feels so genuine, making me wonder how close to home the inspiration was. This song is an absolute guarantee at tears while also making you laugh.

Ruin came to me next, as wells as Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious and The Horrors and The Wild, three songs with such incredibly different vibes that don't just need to be listened to but thoroughly devoured.

Finally, a song I can never praise enough, Inkpot Gods. This song brings together so many ideas and images I love. Again, it is heavy on its use of metaphors but contains one of my favourite references they have ever used. The song discusses the love you can hold for another person and the lengths you will go to so you can protect them. It talks of breaking generational expectations and being there for someone when they can't defend themselves.

The best part of Inkpot Gods, however, is the Lord of the Rings reference where Madeleine sings "you might not fear a man//but to a woman by the end you'll kneel and plead". This is popularly theorised to be about Eowyn in The Return of the King and the line "I am no man" she speaks as she ends her foe's life, a show of her strength not despite of her gender. Easily the best line of the trilogy to me, and hearing it in song form cements this, following it with "I'm more than what my mum told me", breaking this tradition what what a woman can or should be.

While Joey Batey was the draw to The Amazing Devil's music for me, Madeleine has kept me there, she has such a beautiful voice and her and Joey together have made some stunning music that I will always love. They tell these fantastic stories within a few minutes, creating characters worthy of epic tales and narratives so deep and complex it leaves you thinking for long after.

#the amazing devil #joey batey #madeleine hyland #the witcher #jaskier #music #music analysis #eowyn #lord of the rings #return of the king

[spinningalbinoturtle]

Lotr characters and their dogs (and other pets)

Frodo

Canonically not a dog person but also just has cat person vibes

He has two cats one of them is a chubby gray kitty named Luthien and she is incredibly spoiled. A birthday present from Bilbo

His other cat is a stray who hates everyone but Frodo- its super scrangly and Sam calls it Gollum and it stuck

After the Quest Frodo gets a little beagle service dog that helps him with PTSD and other medical stuff

Sam

Pre Quest had an old basset hound named Fingon. His dad said they didn’t have room for it but Sam insisted on feeding it and when he moved in with Frodo it came along.

Post quest he has a border collie named Ellie (short for Galadriel) who helps him replant the shire

He also keeps chickens at Bag End and spoils them a bit. They are just for eggs

Also has a little dairy cow for fresh milk. Her name is Bell after his mom

Merry

The Brandybucks have a pack of mastiffs and they love Merry. Frodo is terrified of them

They also have several feral maine coones that lounge around their manor and also love Merry but hate everyone else

Has a full size horse post quest which he is very proud of and scares the other hobbits. Its name is Theoden

Pippin

Lets be honest with ourselves Pippin has a lab who has the exact same personality as him and they go everywhere together. Its name is something really basic like Buddy

He also keeps turtles and has a whole menagerie for them. They’re all named after different foods

Aragorn

Aragorn has a husky/malamute that he found on his travels north. He howls back and forth with it and is convinced he can understand it. When he becomes king it sits at the foot of his throne and occasionally will randomly howl in the middle of a meeting.

Horse girl all the way. Brego is his bestie. Man takes excellent care of his horse and buys all kinds of extraneous shit for it.

Boromir

Denethor has a pack of vicious looking dogs but Boromir has a Dalmatian that loves him so much

Faramir adopts it for a while after Boromir dies but Faramir is much more of a cat person, so ultimately its adopted by Aragorn and becomes mates with his husky. The puppies go to his and Arwens kids

Legolas

This could go one of two ways-either he has a super graceful hunting dog like a greyhound or whippet or he has a little pomeranian he dresses up and treats like a baby

He has tried to domesticate the spiders with little success maybe because he’s also killed a lot of them

Gimli

Gimli is a terrier person. He has a little Scottish terrier who sits on his lap all the time when he’s working. Gimli made it a little sweater and it hates Legolas (its jealous of Legolas stealing Gimli’s attention).

He also keeps canaries and they are very well cared for and all have names and he’s the only one who can tell them apart

Eowyn

Has a massive Rottweiler who is super intimidating to everyone except Eowyn. It has bitten Grima multiple times. Around Eowyn it acts like a little puppy.

She also loves her horse as all Rohirrim do.

I could also see her as raising ferrets or chinchilas as well

Faramir

Firmly a cat person

Doesn’t mind dogs but vastly prefers cats

Has six of them and they’re all rescues. Their names are : Mithrandir, Radagast, Varda, Melian, Beren, and Pippin.

Eowyn indulges her crazy cat husband even when their house is overrun with kittens

Arwen

Also firmly a cat person

She’s fine Aragorn’s dog but that’s just cause its well trained

Usually just has one or two cats at a time. They’re a special breed from Lothlorien and they’re really beautiful. They like to sit on her lap and purr. They’re also vicious mousers.

Eomer

Has a big great dane who hangs out in Edoras. Its super sweet and dorky. Everyone loves it.

#lotr #frodo baggins #eowyn #aragorn #sam gamgee #merry brandybuck #boromir #legolas #pippin took #samfro #arwen undomiel #gimli #faramir

[hubristicassholefight]

Swordswoman Showdown Round 2 Part 2

Kikunojo (One Piece) vs Eowyn (Lord of the Rings)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Propaganda below cut

Kikunojo

She is a samurai and a retainer for the Kozuki Family, serving as one of the Nine Red Scabbards, a group of samurai that protect the Kozuki family and their country. She's a very skillful samurai, and she and her group managed to delay and hold off the main villain of the arc, (which was an almost insurmountable task for even the main character) and survived the experience despite her horrible injuries; She's canonically and openly trans! And she's gorgeous. And huge... She's 287 cm tall, which for the USAmericans in the audience is 9' 5". She's simply the coolest.

She’s a samurai and fights with a sword; tall trans woman <3

Legendary devoted samurai!; She's 2.87m tall, a time traveler, and not even losing an arm in the middle of the fight stopped her- she had it imediately cauterized and went back to the fight.

She's a lady samurai! Pretty and very skillful with her katana!

She is a samurai who was sent 20 years into the future to avenge the death of her lord; She’s so tall and canonically trans and I love her

She’s a badass samurai who fights for what she believes in and to help people. She is known as Kiku of lingering snow. She’s also canonically trans

She's a time traveling trans samurai, the only woman in a group of 9 legendary samurais; Her arm was chopped off by the biggest baddie so far and she continued fighting, isn't that badass?

One of the strongest samurai in her country; She's a trans icon

#kiku the greatest of all time#🐐#tall and gorgeous samurai lady#who is a trans icon#love that she is so tall that she doesn't fit in the image display#gets recognized as strong by the main character multiple times and proves it by being the most resilient badass of the entire arc#stands up to tyrants and abusers of class privilege#also helps break said main character out of the enemies prison and takes part in a rebellion against the corrupt prison staff#one piece#okiku#kiku

Eowyn

Kin to kings and heir to horse-lords, she refuses to be left behind when her people must fight; she puts herself in danger to defend her liege, defeats a great and terrible evil, and finally puts aside the sword after proving herself the equal of the very greatest challenge and recognising the horror and futility that heroic ballads elide. The most dramatic moment of her tale is all about her presence, in a moment of trial, with a sword, being a woman; “What do you fear, lady?" he asked. "A cage," she said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.”

She uses one to fight and kill the Witch King of Angmar, whom "no man can kill"; I mean, come on. She's kinda The Live Action Sword Woman. "I am no man." is an instantly iconic line and Miranda Otto is an incredible actress and played the role perfectly.

I AM NO MAN

"No man can kill me." "I am no man!" And then she put her sword in the head of the dark lord rule of black Nazguls (don't remember his name) and he dies and this is badass.

Famously stabbed an 'unkillable' evil ghost sorcerer in the face with her sword and killed him

Was told not to go sword, went and sworded anyway. Sworded big powerful bad who could not be slain by man in the face while yelling “I am no man!”; Super cool. Girlboss. After swording the aforementioned bad went and married Gondor’s softest boi.

She kills an unkillable evil and is just badass in general; Hot hot girl ;-;

Used one to kill the witch king of Angmar; She is no man✨

#kikunojo #one piece #eowyn #lord of the rings #swordswoman showdown #official #poll #round 2

[bralesscommie]

My Tolkien Headcanons

Silmarillion and Lotr characters

Elrond

Has PTSD, possibly c-PTSD from the Third Kinslaying, losing his parents and growing up with the people who took away his home

Has sensory issues, mostly a hard time with crowds and loud noises (also for PTSD reasons), but also really hates some textures

Pretty bad migraines from foresight and tension headaches from anxiety to the point where a couple of times a month he can't work

Is a workaholic

Is bisexual

He/they in an elf way

Isn't white, it's kind of hard to tell his exact race with his very mixed genetics

Maglor

Has anxiety from growing up in the chaotic house of Fëanor

Is depressed

Uses music as escapism

He/him but doesn't mind he/they

Is pretty fluid sexuality wise

Maedhros

C-PTSD from being chained to a mountain and also like everything else that's ever happened to him

Has depression

Chronic pain in his back and shoulder, as well as phantom pain in his amputated arm

Has some kind of personality disorder

Is gay

He/him

Eärendil

Has anxiety from and is traumatized by the escape from Gondolin

Was not ready to be a dad

Straight

He/him

Is definitely not white

Elwing

Is traumatized by the Second Kinslaying, possibly PTSD

Bi-curious

She/her, has thought about adding a they to her pronouns

Eowyn

Has anxiety and depression

Has anger issues but is learning healthy coping mechanisms

Has trauma from SA, and does her best to spread awareness

Enjoys being butch in everyday life, but will dress up feminine once in a while

Is bisexual

She/her

Is happy being poly, but doesn't mind being in monogamous relationships

Arwen

Had really bad anxiety after Celebrían sailed, but is doing much better, though she still has occasional tension headaches

Sensory issues like her dad

Also similarly to her dad, she is mixed

Sapphic, but is open to very few men

She/her

Aragorn

Pretty mentally stable, at least considering everyone else around him

Brown

Is bisexual with a preference for women

Does not care about his pronouns, but is cis in some weird way?

Legolas

Was born in an era with very few elflings, and as an only child hasn't had the opportunity to socialize at all

Rich whiteboy (gender neutral) privilege that they don't entirely recognize

Probably not neurotipical

Fluid sexuality, doesn't really like labels, but if asked persistantly will say he has a preference for men

He/she sometimes they

Bilbo

Has ADHD and anxiety

Struggles with ring addiction

Is acespec and gay

They/he

Sam

AuDHD

Has low self-esteem, imposter syndrome, and anxiety from his childhood with the Gaffer

Is brown

Pansexual

Officially he/they but prefers they/them

Frodo

Is autistic

Has chronic pain post quest

Has chronic fatigue post quest

Possibly transmasc, he/they or he/him

Gay

If you would like to see other characters, or more on some characters, my ask box is always open

#Leo's tolkien musings #lord of the rings #lotr #silm #silmarillion #lord of the rings headcanons #silmarillion headcanon #elrond #maglor #maedhros #earendil #elwing #eowyn #arwen #aragorn #legolas #disabilty headcanon #lgbtq headcanon #racial headcanon #bilbo #sam #frodo

[runawaymun]

Pride themed things and art! Can I request whichever would make you happier/you would prefer to draw from some options below:

Eowyn/Arwen

Gil-galad/Elrond

Elrond/Thranduil

All of these make me happy, so let's do all three. Have some doodles!

Happy pride!!!!

#<3 <3 <3 #tolkien pride #my art #thank you!!!!!

[philtstone]

if you’re still taking prompts from that list, I’d love to see your take on the nemesis one for any of your modern AUs!

sorry it's not an EXISTING modern au but it is. a modern au. partially inspired by many many many things most significantly a post i literally cannot find again no matter how hard i look... also by anne from anne of green gables. anyway, this is mostly just vibes. and my own salad shirazi opinions. in that order.

In Arwen's house growing up family dinner was always a shared time of day, so it makes her glad that the small apartment her father moved into last year honours the same principle.

“It’s not that he irritates me,” eighteen year old Eowyn, fresh out of her first term of university and with her long gold hair in a tangled braid down her back, is explaining from the dinner table. “I hardly get irritated easily — it’s just that he’s so sweet and friendly all the time, I am sure he’s up to something.”

“Eowyn dear,” says her uncle. His attention is mostly absorbed by the newspaper in front of him. “If you might repeat that first part aloud, and reflect on it a bit.”

Eomer snorts from the sink. Gandalf had tasked him with washing the dishes — he had more or less nothing to contribute to meal making. Eowyn makes a face at him.

“I am good tempered. It’s just no one who’s normal is that nice. Certainly not a man.”

Gandalf, who’s in the midst of a very complex chess game with Arwen’s father, chuckles a bit. 

“Indeed?” Ada asks, with a wry smile. Eowyn blushes.

“Do not tease her, you men,” Arwen says, sweeping in to add hot water to the tea cups. The pale green flats of the fragrant tea leaves sent in express overseas mail by her maternal grandparents swirl in the kettle’s pour. Authentic green tea has a potency Arwen has not found in anything purchased around here. “You know she isn’t talking about you, and anyway, she’s right.” 

While Gandalf says, “Do tell us more, then,” charitably, Arwen returns to the small kitchen island. The rice is coming into its own in the cooker. Rice is always a comfort; it unites across cultures and races. Admittedly to this day Ada will prefer jasmine to basmati, no matter Arwen's own fascination with the latter. She sets about peeling two thick skinned cucumbers and dicing them, along with tomatoes from Mr Bilbo's garden, into a bowl. Then comes the shallot, and its lilac purple skin. Arwen has always loved the colour lilac. She has a nightgown a shade lighter than this onion, which her fiance sighs over dreamily every time it’s taken out.

Behind her Aragorn chops tarragon for the lentils, which are bubbling. He has embraced jasmine rice since childhood. His hair is tied out of his face and just barely escaping the doom of a man bun (Aragorn is too sincere about everything to accidentally look like the smarmiest versions of his countrymen) and he smells of fried onion and rose oil, like he often does when in this place. In matter of fact he smells like this kitchen is decorated: the multiple little knick knacks lining the sil, the old silver, the warm reds of the woven rug in the floor (one of an innumerable number kept in Iverworn’s house), and the cracked old laminate tiling – brown. There is some comfort in the idea that Gilraen's old apartment is still in the family. Only now, Ada has his little shrine in the den which doubles as his study, and a few more photographs have been added to the baby pictures lining the front hallway.

On the other end of the table Gimli and Legolas sort through Bilbo's rock collection while the old man gives running commentary on where he found each one. Arwen’s cousin is being educated on geology in the process. Frodo and Sam and the rest are still at school; Aragorn has volunteered to go pick them up in a half hour.

“This ought to go in the sedimentaries pile, Legolas. You see the distinctive layering – to really know we’d check for carbonate, but I’d say this is a solid limestone.”

“I don’t understand. Many of them have layers. That one with the crystal –”

“Running in parallel. Look, they’ve sedimented. It’s in the name, for Mahal’s sake. The geode, a sedimentary rock? Preposterous.”

“I found that one in Dale you know. It was, oh, twenty years ago or so now — I’d just had a pint with your dad, Gimli – you remember what he was like twenty years ago, wearing those garish red turbans (though they suited him well) – and when we came out on the street there it was by the lamp post, a little lump of a thing. I thought to myself, why, that looks just like Lobelia’s terrible laddoo – you haven’t tried them, but they’re glorified pebbles, with how dry and small she makes them – and then I turned it over and thought, where might a pretty piece of rock like this come from in the middle of such a town? But then, Dale is very metropolitan …“

Absently, Arwen begins humming to herself.

“Won’t someone put on some decent music?”

“Don’t look at us old men, Eomer. Haven’t the youth got a stereo system?”

“Oh, it's all Bluetooth now. Ah — I have your rook there, Elrond.”

“No he hasn’t; that’ll put his queen in jeopardy.”

“Keep your eyes on your lentils, Estel, my own function perfectly well. He’s been doing this since he was a boy.”

“Oh, yes, yes,” says Gandalf, with the wise knowing of someone who was there to witness such behaviour in person.

Between it all, everyone is somehow still managing to listen attentively to Eowyn as she expounds her theories and suspicions.

“He’s asked four times if we could study together after class. Four times. The next major exam we have is worth sixty perfect of the grade and I’m sure he saw me speaking with the professor last week because I was so determined to pass it. No one passes that exam, according to the third years –”

Arwen stirs the lentils and wonders if they ought to take a little bowl to the shrine.

“Perhaps he’s looking for a friend,” says Gandalf philosophically.

“Maybe he’s a creep, like Wormtongue was,” suggests Eomer darkly.

“He’s only starstruck by a girl in the engineering course,” says Bilbo, with a bit of (not unkind) humour in his voice. Then he reaches into his large duffel, which he lugged indoors with Aragorn and Eomer’s help, and extracts a box of fresh sweets for the table. These, Arwen hopes, are better than Lobelia’s – though she is sure they will be much too sweet for her own taste.  

“There are girls in engineering these days, old friend,” Gandalf interjects with a raised eyebrow, but Eowyn is not really paying attention to either of them.

“Last week at lab he gave me a book about zoological diseases I mentioned off hand almost a month ago,” she says with that earnest way she has. “That doesn’t have anything to do with engineering. Do you think he was trying to throw me off my game before our lab quiz?” 

It is very hard to keep a straight face at this inquiry, but Arwen – and many others present – manage it. “Have you considered that he might have just thought you’d like it?” asks Arwen.

“But that’s none of his business,” Eowyn says, as though this was obvious. 

“How did he know you liked it then?” asks her brother, baffled.

“We’ll — I told him,” says Eowyn. She flushes a bit. “But he initiated the conversation. We should have been talking about closed circuits.”

“Or nothing at all, apparently,” says Ada gravely.

“You don’t know him. He’s got a look in his eye. I can just tell.”

“Oh look, I’ve found him on Facebook.” 

And so Legolas has, and they all converge around his smartphone while Eowyn glares defiantly. 

“Faramir, is it? You know, he kind of looks like you, Estel.”

“Yeah – if you were much scrawnier and looked like a dweeby engineering student.”

“They look nothing alike,” says Eowyn hotly, crossing her arms – Arwen cannot help but catch Aragorn’s eye (he looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, not helped at all by Gandalf, who is looking right at him, and skillfully masking his own merriment besides) “and Aragorn would never be such a — a — a snake, anyway.”

Arwen agrees with this hypothetical assessment, at least. She rummages through the fridge and retrieves the fresh clutch of herbs she needs for her salad.

“But what has he done, Eowyn. The poor boy. There is a bit of dweebishness there, isn’t there … indeed …”

“Look at the last name; isn’t that Denethor’s boy?”

“Oh yes, that would explain it. Engineering? Of all things? I always thought he had a poet's soul when he was a kid.”

“I wonder how they’re doing – haven’t spoken to the man in an age, you know.”

“Denethor you mean?”

“Well, not since the incident with that poor tree in the synagogue’s front yard,” says Gandalf sadly. “You were there Aragorn, you remember –”

“Hmmm,” says Aragorn grimly.

“Well I told you,” interrupts Eowyn. “I haven’t got proof, just suspicions! He’s trying to psych me out of this program. But I tell you – I won’t let him!” 

Arwen wonders if perhaps Eowyn had grown up around sisters, she wouldn’t insist so very hard on sticking it out through a degree she is not really interested in. These ruminations are interrupted by a soft touch at Arwen's waist. “Hm?” she says.

“I’m off to pick up the kids,” Aragorn begins in a low voice (the assembly continues to chatter behind them). She smiles at him, then stops: for reasons unexplained he is suddenly offering her a horrified expression he usually only reserves for conservative Tik Tok mommy vloggers and occasions where Pippin is about to grievously injure himself on the park playset.  “... What are you doing?” he asks.

“Adding the mint,” she says serenely. 

“Fresh?” Like she must be mad.

“Doesn’t it have mint?” 

It is his grandmother's recipe, after all; silly man.

“Dried.”

“Your mother always said it had to be fresh.”

“Fresh dried mint,” he clarifies, gravely.

“Really Estel.”

“Take over the lentils.”

“That was your job — and you’ve got to pick up Frodo and his friends.”

“In ten minutes.”

“You’re going to ruin it. Mr I Can Subsist On A Can Of Beans.”

“I can subsist. That doesn't mean you can add fresh spearmint to a perfectly good salad. It tastes completely wrong.”

“Estel …” But Aragorn has already ducked beneath the counter to reach deep into the recesses of their spice cabinet and retrieve an extremely dusty repurposed jar of dried mint, now cradled in his brown hands. The half-peeled label is for sour cherry preserves, which Arwen is sure no one in this family has bought from a store since they discovered the tree in Ada’s backyard.

“This is hardly fresh,” Arwen says archly.

“I dried it last week,” he says, all innocence. His t-shirt is worn and ratty enough that its low collar shows off her old necklace. She can see the jade flower and her own name etched in the characters of her mothers language at the center.

She sighs. Kisses his cheek; takes the mint. “Go fetch Mr. Bilbo’s wards.”

“They’re going to make a mess of my car,” he says, as if he did not happily volunteer for this task.

“Your car is already a mess, my love.”

So he goes, grinning. Arwen adds the mint to the salad and renters the fray.

“Eowyn,” she says. “Perhaps the next time he asks to study, you might take him up on it. That way you can get close enough to catch him at his awful scheme.”

Eowyn's mouth widens in a ponderous oh, as if she had never thought of this. Arwen pats her shoulder comfortingly.

“Food will be ready in ten minutes,” she says. Ada is smiling at her — a true smile, not without its own edges of memory, but no longer the bittersweet thing of three years ago. Arwen smiles back.

#i would post this on ao3 but its so niche and im not sure if i want my 200th post to be this plotless #we'll see #my writing #thank u emma you always got me #lord of the rings #arwen undomiel #aragorn #bilbo baggins #gandalf #eowyn #elrond #gimli #legolas #theoden #eomer #aragorn x arwen #eowyn x faramir #gimli x legolas #is this something

[torchwood-99]

Headcanon:

While Faramir and Eowyn both take on duties within and outside their house at Emyn Arnen, Eowyn will always prefer to take on any job that gets her outside, preferably riding, whereas after his time as a ranger, Faramir quite likes taking on domestic duties.

(The day to day stuff is managed mostly by a housekeeper and steward and other household staff, seeing as Faramir and Eowyn have to focus mostly on governance, but they still need to stay up to date with how things are getting on, making sure everything is working as it should).

So Eowyn will ride out in the driving rain in order to solve a dispute between squabbling tenants, getting very muddy and terrifying her guards by riding at break neck speed in stormy conditions, while Faramir will finish off a day's work of important princely stuff by going over the household accounts, snug in his chamber, sipping on some wine by the fire as he checks the numbers, seeing it as something of a luxury and indulgence to put aside time to work on making his own home comfortable.

Both feel very smug, thinking they got the easy job.

(Then Eowyn gets home all wet and muddy from the rain, her clothes soaked through and cheeks flushed, but that's part of a different headcanon.)

#Lotr #Lord of the Rings #Eowyn #Faramir #Farawyn #headcanon #Faramir-x-Eowyn #Eowyn-Faramir

[ofstardustanddreaming]

well loved

preference summary: what they do to remind you you're loved.

content warnings: none

fandom: the lord of the rings

characters: frodo, sam, pippin, merry, boromir, faramir, aragorn, legolas, arwen, eowyn, eomer, galadriel, elrond (if other characters are wanted for future preferences, let me know!)

gender neutral reader

Frodo: He always checks in on you, always wanting to make sure you were doing okay. He's one of those who is more in tune with emotions, and wanting to check in on emotional wellbeing. He wants you to know you'll always have someone to lean on, and he shows you love through his active listening of your problems.

Sam: He's the type to do small tasks around the house for you, wanting to make sure you don't have to worry about anything. He sets up a routine that's nice and homey. He wouldn't have you lifting a finger if he could, wanting to make sure you can be relaxed. You would have to step in at some points, saying you'd want to split the work.

Pippin: He makes you very well included on any inside jokes, wanting to you to know what it's like. He showed his love through humorous jokes, saying he always wanted to see your smile. His love may have been shown through jokes, but he made you feel truly seen, which was a wonderful way to be reminded you're loved by him.

Merry: He loves to give you parts of his food, wanting to make sure you were well fed. He feels wellbeing is tied to being well fed, so he wants to make sure you get a fair share. And I think that Merry himself likes to try cooking once in a while, and likes to give some cooking to you.

Boromir: He always carves out time in his schedule to spend quality time with you. He always loves to have meals together with you, wanting to make it romantic, with something as simple as bringing flowers for the vase in the middle. He shows his love through any amount of time spent with you, wanting to shower you with his compliments.

Faramir: He has subconscious movements to make sure you're okay and safe. Such as holding out a hand during hikes in an area that's heavily rooted, wanting to make sure of your safety to help you balance and find your way. He also loves to place a hand on your back in crowded areas. He always has a special look of love, reserved just for you.

Aragorn: He always likes to recite poetry or songs he comes across that reminds him of you. He always gives you the softest of looks during those moments, and these moments are usually done by the fires in your room. He usually has your back against him, as he whispers them into your ear.

Legolas: He finds a variety of plants that reminds him of you, always bringing them back for you to look at or put somewhere that you deem cool. It's gotten to the point where there's almost too many flowers in your living space, but you also don't have the heart to tell him to stop. It's really sweet to see the variety of flowers he hand picked for you.

Arwen: She loves to sneak kisses from you throughout the day. She's playful, so her showing her love is through playful ways. She loves to take you off guard of when she'll kiss you, and she always loves hearing your laugh afterwards. She loves to watch you get flustered, laughing as she rushes away.

Eowyn: She loves quality time to, wanting to spend time with you. Her favorite ways to showing you love is teaching you some of her favorite moves in training. She shows you what she has learned, and also wants to learn what you know. She wants to make sure the both of you are prepared for anything, and it's a nice way to spend time with each other.

Eomer: He loves to go horseback riding with you. It provides a time where the two of you can talk in peace, where he doesn't feel the pressure of the kingdom. He loves talking with you here, where the two of you don't feel watched. It's a sense of freedom to speak your minds, but the act of horseback riding allows you to go anywhere. He loves to explore with you that way.

Galadriel: She loves turning to you for advice. She may not always agree, but she loves to hear what you have to say. She finds that hearing a variety of perspectives helps her, and she feels that it helps her get closer to you. She always likes to hear what you have to say about some decisions in how she runs her kingdom.

Elrond: He likes to spoil you, simple as that. It doesn't even have to be buying you many things, although he loves doing that as well. It can be just as well showering you with praise, or giving you his full attention, even if it means ignoring his work for a little bit. He loves at his fullest, spoiling you with many things you love.

#lord of the rings imagine #lord of the ring preference #lotr imagine #lotr preference #frodo baggins imagine #frodo baggins preference #sam gamgee imagine #sam gamgee preference #pippin took preference #pippin took imagine #merry imagine #merry preference #boromir preference #boromir imagine #faramir imagine #faramir preference #aragorn imagine #aragorn preference #legolas imagine #legolas preference #arwen imagine #arwen preference #eowyn imagine #eowyn preference #eomer preference #eomer imagine #galadriel imagine #galadriel preference