#firefoot

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

THE LORD OF THE RINGS HEADCANON

In Rohan it is tradition that the widows of warriors who died in battle assist mares in giving birth; most foals are born in such a situation.

Except for Firefoot. Éomer took care of the delivery himself; it took almost two hours, and at first the foal was so small and weak Éomer had to nurse him with a milk bladder.

Éomer saved Firefoot's life on two different occasions.

The horse saved his on three.

#The Lord of the Rings #The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers #The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King #Éomer #Éomer Eadig #Éomer of Rohan #Karl Urban #Firefoot #Rohan #Bellona's stuff #Bellona's headcanons #Bellona's The Lord of the Rings headcanons

[frodo-with-glasses]

#poll time! #shadowfax #asfaloth #hasufel #arod #snowmane #firefoot #windfola #roheryn #brego #lord of the rings #lotr #yes i added brego because the movies matter too

[camille-lachenille]

For @tolkiengenweek

DAY TWO: Friendship • Animals • Group Dynamic:

The dark and quiet of the stables was disturbed by the creaking of the door. Firefoot flicked his ears, suddenly well awake, and relaxed when he recognised the scent of his rider. He nickered as Éomer appeared in the soft glow of a lamp. His rider hung the lamp on a nail on the wall and presented Firefoot a slice of apple on his open hand.

“Sorry to disturb you so late, friend,” he said softly. “But I needed the company of someone with sense.” Firefoot licked the offered palm and munched on the apple. Of course his rider would come to him, he always came when the other stallions of the herd wouldn’t listen to him. He nipped at his rider’s finger, asking for more apple.

Éomer laughed, a creaky sound far from his usual rumble, but it was better than his grim face from before. The stallion didn’t like to see his rider angry or sad. “Yes, you can have more,” he said with a huff, reaching for a whole apple in his pocket. Firefoot made quick work of the treat as his rider petted his flank.

They kept each other silent company for a while, used to simply exist in the same space, and Firefoot felt Éomer relax. Until he wasn’t relaxed anymore and the hand in the stallion’s mane started to shake. Éomer made a strangled sound and pressed his face against Firefoot’s neck. “I… I miss my uncle so much,” he said, almost choking on the words. “He was the great king Rohan needs. How can I be a king myself after him? I didn’t even want to be on the throne in the first place!” he continued, shaking and clinging to Firefoot with despair.

The stallion snorted and rubbed his muzzle against his rider’s face. He too, missed Snowmane’s rider; he always had a piece of bread for him when he came to the stables. And there was the empty box next to his, swept clean from the hay and bucket of water empty. Firefoot missed Snowmane; the old stallion had been a friend in the stables for a long time. With a soft whinny, he nipped at his rider’s hair, trying to tell him he understood.

Éomer laughed a bit as he gently batted his muzzle away. “Thank you, my friend,” he said after wiping his eyes on his sleeve. The Riders had a strange way to be sad, and it was messy, but Firefoot didn’t care much when his friend buried his face in his mane once again. He still sniffed at his pockets for another apple. “I don’t have another treat, you spoiled beast!” Éomer said, really laughing this time. “But I can brush and braid your mane and tail to make up for disturbing you.

Firefoot rested his muzzle on his friend’s shoulder and snorted, to say he didn’t mind. He didn’t say no to the grooming though.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #éomer #firefoot #rohan #friendship #horse #tolkiengenweek #fanfiction

[5rcane]

Just read Tailchaser’s Song. Pretty interesting.

#2023 #Nov #Nov 2023 #november 2023 #november #tailchaser's song #fritti tailchaser #firefoot

[themoonlily]

Firefoot with everyone else: chooses violence every day

Firefoot with Éomer, Lothíriel and Elfwine: the goofiest horse that ever existed

#Firefoot #Éomer #Eomer #Lothíriel #Lothiriel #Elfwine #House of Eorl #Eorlingas #Rohirrim #Gondor #headcanon #Tolkien #Lord of the Rings

[bluebellhairpin]

fuck you google I already know Firefoot is a male, I want to know if he was a STALLION or a GELDING.

#I NEED TO KNOW THESE DETAILS IF I AM TO WRITE #no it doesnt effect the plot not really BUT IT BOTHERS ME I NEED TO KNOW #lord of the rings #firefoot #eomer

[sailorotter]

Inktober 18 : Saddle. Eomer on Firefoot (who knew that there are so few pictures available where the saddle can be seen???). Couldn't pass the opportunity to draw one of my favorite characters from Lord of the Rings. To be honest, first place changes from one day to the other, but it is definitely a choice between him and Faramir (don't get me started on what they did with Faramir in the movies...). With Aragorn in third place, because there is a point where too much perfection is a bit too much, if you know what I mean?

#inktober #lotr #eomer of rohan #firefoot

[healthchat]

7 Steps to Finding the Right Podiatrist for Diabetic Foot Care

If you have diabetes, it's important to take special care of your feet. Learn how to find the right podiatrist with these seven simple and easy steps.

Taking extra care of feet is important when managing diabetes. With the right podiatrist, diabetics can ensure their feet are in top shape. Here are seven tips to help you find a qualified and experienced podiatrist that understands the unique needs of diabetic foot care.

Research Different Podiatrists and Their Qualifications. Researching different podiatrists and their qualifications is the first step to finding the right one. Look up local podiatrists online and read through their profiles, paying special attention to their experience with diabetes care. Then, consult with your general physician or diabetes doctor for recommendations of experienced podiatrists in your area that are familiar with diabetes care.

Make Sure Your Health Insurance Is Accepted. Once you have narrowed down your list of potential podiatrists, check to see if they accept your health insurance plan. It’s important to choose a podiatrist who participates in your healthcare network as it will save you money. Make sure to look over the details of your health plan and determine what type of visits and procedures are covered by your policy.

Read Patient Reviews Online to Learn About Each Practice. Patient reviews can provide valuable insight into a podiatrist’s practice. Many websites and review forums are dedicated to posting patient experiences, so you can get a sense of how other people feel about the doctor you’re considering seeing. With this information, you’ll be able to make an educated decision when it comes to choosing the right podiatrist for your needs.

Ask How Long Appointments Are Scheduled for Diabetes Foot Care. When scheduling an appointment for diabetes foot care, it’s important to ask your potential podiatrist how long their appointments last. During the appointment, the podiatrist will be assessing the feet to check for any signs of infection or sores. They will also inspect the toe nails and give a general wellness check-up. The amount of time required to complete these activities can vary depending on the clinic, so make sure you ask about this beforehand.

Ensure That Treatment Is Customized for Diabetes-Related Issues. Ask your potential podiatrist if they’re familiar with treating diabetes-related feet issues. Depending on the complexity of your condition, it can be beneficial to work with a doctor who has experience in this field. Ask them to explain how they would address any potential complications and ensure that their treatment plan is tailored to the type of diabetes that you have.

DR NARENDRANADH MEDA Vascular Surgeon – MBBS, MS, DNB He is the best vascular surgeon in Hyderabad with exceptional expertise in minimally invasive endovascular surgeries and hybrid techniques to treat arterial and venous diseases. Dr Narendranadh Meda MBBS, MS, DNB is experienced vascular surgeon based in Hyderabad is available for consultation in Vijayawada, Rajhmundary, Nellore, Ongole, Vishakapatnam. He is trained and experienced in all aspects of vascular surgery, like to treat aortic aneurysms, occluded or narrowed leg, intestinal or carotid arteries, leg ulcers, varicose veins, and thoracic outlet syndrome.

#diabeticfoot #HyderabadVascularCenter #HVC #DrNarendranadhMeda #diabetes #footpain #heelpain #diabetic #flatfoot #sportsinjury #diabeticfootcare #arthritis #plantfascitis #mortonsneuroma #firefoot #footdisorder #difficultywalking #painandtenderness #footblisters #woundcare #diabeticproblems #diabetics #diabeticlife #diabeticfriendly #diabeticneuropathy #hyderabadvascularcenter

[acegodzilla]

i just finished rereading "tailchaser's song" and i forgot how Not Normal i am about that book oops x)

gsfdnjk I feel you dude I haven't been normal about that book for a single day since I first read it in junior high

I should reread it too

#just imagine how profoundly Not Normal i was about it as a 13 year old #i made up music to go with the song/prayer to tangaloor firefoot the first-walkers tell tailchaser at one point #i don't remember it now but i probably sung it out loud enough times back then that my parents wanted to hit me with hammers #liggytheauthoress #asked and answered

[pixxyofice]

a repeat needle is a bummer but it’ll be neat!

#pix's clangen things #firefoot...

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x Reader) - Part 2 of 3

Part 1 / Part 3

Love Confession feat. Eomer Eadig

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Eomer is determined to convince the woman he loves of his long-hidden devotion, but the obligations of his new crown and her baseborn origins shake her faith in their future together.

Prompt: "It's hard for me to describe what I feel for you… but just know that it's love nonetheless."

Requested by and Dedicated to: @laneynoir You've probably forgotten about making this Valentine ask, but I remember and write down everything you ask of me! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.9k

Content: Angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, King Eomer, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Excessive angst? Verbal passion? This is clean but it will do a number on your feels.

To Read on AO3: Link

Tumblr Post for Taken, Part 1: Link

Taken 

Third Age 3019 May 2

Minas Tirith, Gondor

PART TWO

“My lord, are you certain it is safe for you to go without a proper escort?” 

Eomer cast a taut but amused smirk at Haleth, son of Hama, over the horse they had just finished tacking up together. His new squire, one of the youngest fighters to survive the Battle of Hornburg, had been appointed to the post just very recently, and so still had much to learn. 

Eomer dismissed the given counsel that a king needed someone with experience in his direct service, not a novice that required training. He had seen with his own eyes how bravely Hama’s orphaned boy had helped to defend the refugees at the Glittering Caves; in Eomer’s eyes, the child had earned the honor several times over.

“Surely you don’t mean to imply that the King of the Horse-lords is incapable of defending himself on a short ride?”

“No, sire. It is just…” Haleth’s eyes darted about nervously and he lowered his voice. “You ride with a woman. If something were to happen, would you not have to defend yourself and her as well?”

At that, Eomer chuckled. “I commend your gallant instincts lad, but I advise you not to make such an insinuation in the presence of a known shield-maiden. They do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned, and will be quick to set you right.” He patted his squire’s shoulder to show that no offense was taken. “Rest assured that the lady is more than capable of holding her own, and of shielding me from harm if need be.” 

The boy need not know that Eomer would sooner die than put her in that position. He had kept that a secret from her and the rest of his Éored for years, although perhaps a little too successfully and to his own detriment.  

Riding Firefoot into the white-stone square courtyard that connected the galleries of stables, Eomer quickly saw that she was already waiting for him, standing alert beside her own horse. Greywind, a dappled mare that bore no meager resemblance to her equine brother, tossed her head and whickered softly at Firefoot's approach. It was a warmer reception than his master received.

"Good morning, my lord," the shield-maiden acknowledged with a nod as curt as her tone. Royal protocol satisfied, she turned and swung up into the saddle of her own steed. 

Her cold shoulder was to be his comeuppance, then. So be it. Her silent rages were nothing Eomer had not seen, borne, and successfully navigated before. 

But today, this time, would be different. Everything was sure to be different after that kiss, which, after a sleepless night of pondering and self-debating, he would still swear on Bema was no mistake. Clumsy perhaps, but an action he did not regret leaping into. There was no part of Eomer that did not desire to repeat it, over and over. 

First, he must resolve the confusion his recklessness had caused. 

"Follow my lead,” he said, and spurred Firefoot on toward the exit gates. 

His command came from habits formed over years of riding together, and so did her immediate obedience. Her loyalty had always been faultless; loyalty to Rohan, loyalty to him. Whenever he called and whatever he asked for, she gave, just as she came to meet him now, regardless of what had transpired between them last night. 

This new epiphany that her devotion to him might be encouraged not just by duty, but a love to reciprocate his, still felt like too much to hope for. 

They rode side by side down the levels of Minas Tirith, and soon were past the city’s great white walls. At the slightest shift of his master’s weight, Firefoot burst into a full charge down the North-way, rejoicing at the freedom to run across open land once more, an impatience that mirrored Eomer’s own. Next to them, Greywind and rider matched their gait to keep up, and they tore their way for several miles northward into Pelennor. 

Eomer’s body sang at the rush of the wind over his skin, through his hair and his cloak that streamed over Firefoot’s haunches. Too long had he been cooped up within the city walls, tethered to the duties of his new office. It still felt unseemly for him to carry the title of King while his uncle had yet to be properly laid to rest among his forebears, but he was determined to serve in every manner his people required. 

This involved taking guidance from his newly formed council, who seemed to believe that the first order of business was to reaffirm and restrengthen Rohan's alliance with Gondor. In the weeks that followed the great feast at Cormallen, Eomer spent more time with new acquaintances, lords and ladies from the noblest families of Gondor, than with his own men. His Éored, who had been the rock at his side for nearly the whole of the past year, were granted time to rest and convalesce according to their desires, and every one eagerly embraced the offered leave.

That included her, most painfully and noticeably. Each day that passed by filled with council meetings and formal dinners but nearly nothing of her, had dragged Eomer further into despair. When she finally reappeared for the coronation, dressed the way she was…small wonder that he finally lost hold on propriety the moment he touched her. 

In seemingly no time at all, they left it all behind. The high ramparts and looming towers of the grand city turned into a white speck on the mountainside. So far out north into the fields and away from the main road, they had separated themselves from the thousands that had flocked to the city to celebrate the coronation, and retreated into the peace of the vast plains that bore some semblance to their home. 

Eomer eased Firefoot into a relaxed pace and she followed suit. Afterward they were blanketed in silence but for the clink of tack and thud of hooves on the long grass finally regrown in the end of Pelennor’s strifes. 

One sideways glance showed Eomer that she remained resolved to look anywhere but in his direction. No matter. If she refused to look at him, he would gladly stare at her, and take his fill of what he had been deprived of for weeks. 

He had forgotten what a vision she made outside of armor, so long had they lived in battle gear. The gown she wore to the coronation ball had distracted him all evening, but it painted her beauty too foreign. The plain clothes of their people suited her best. On her, the wine-red dress underneath her green Rider’s cloak outstripped any fine silk confection. Her hair, usually held back in tight braids or trapped underneath a war helm, flowed in free waves that tumbled to her waist and made his fingers ache with longing. 

To see her in this manner reminded him of what Rohirrim sacrifice had achieved: the end to a life of constant peril, and in its place, domestic bliss. Eomer knew he would be wholly content to look upon her this way forever. And by Bema, by all the Valar that might hear, he prayed that she would let him. 

Another mile or two passed in the bleak silence before the skies gave him the opening he needed. The faint drizzle that had lazily harried them gradually intensified into a downpour, and the menacing grey clouds above rumbled a fair warning. 

Eomer pointed to a copse of beeches in the distance. “That should suffice for us to wait out the worst of it,” he said, and they directed their horses into the thicket. 

After releasing Firefoot and Greywind to find cover and graze at their leisure, they took their shelter underneath the tree with the most generous canopy. As Eomer watched her gather the cascade of her soaked hair over one shoulder, she happened to raise her eyes in his direction and catch his gaze. Her face remained impassive, but she did not look away again. She knew she could no longer delay what he had requested her company for. 

“May we speak now?”

The tense lines on her brow softened. “My lord,” she said, in a tone that was almost contrite. “I am here to listen to whatever you wish to say.”

“Good,” Eomer said, and needed one more breath to steady himself. “Good...” 

"Long has there been great camaraderie between us as comrades in arms, but in time that deepened into…more meaningful affection.” When she did not flinch at that attestation, he carried on. “After last night, it is clear that we must lay bare the extent of our feelings and finally be open with each other."

Her mouth trembled. “My lord--”

“I love you,” Eomer said. “I recognize no plainer truth than that. I am no bard or scholar, and so it is hard for me to describe what I feel for you...as it would be hard for anyone to explain the glory of the sun or the vastness of the skies. But you must know that it is love, nonetheless."

She remained silent at this, and her clenched jaw told him no response was forthcoming. But he had more. 

“These past years, Rohan’s protection occupied all of my waking thoughts. There was no time to consider ambitions for myself. And what need did I have for that, when the sole object of my desires rode in my company to every battle? But after all our years together, I suppose I began to take for granted that you would always be close by, even while I drowned in fear that one sword stroke could separate us forever."

He edged a step closer to her, driven by the mere suggestion of such unspeakable loss. 

“When you grew distant after Theodred's passing, I awoke to my folly. I wished to blame your withdrawal from me on your grief, but my jealous mind whispered that my long buried suspicions were confirmed, that you had always desired his devotion over mine. I wrestled with the torment from it, until last night, when you gave me reason to hope again.” 

“But..but I did not…y-you had never…” She cut off her own stammering and squared herself determinedly before continuing. “I never found sufficient cause to believe you could care for me so, my lord.” 

“The fault is mine for not being forthright with you from the start. I will do whatever I must to remedy that now.” Suddenly they were face to face on the same side of the tree, for she had not thought to dart away from his advances this time. “I would shout it from the very spire of their great Tower if it will end your doubts.” 

He reached for her, and the edge of his hand found her chin. Contrary to his bold declaration he repeated, barely above a whisper: “I love you.” 

“No,” she murmured back. “Please. You must not say such things.” 

“Why not, when it is the truth?”

“Because it is a truth you cannot act on.”

Eomer’s hand dropped to his side as he barked a humorless laugh. “Granted I have not held the role for very long, but that seems a peculiar thing to tell a King.”

“You are the King now, and that binds you to do things according to your duty, not according to your desire.” She lowered her head. “That is the truth that matters, my lord. Love cannot always prevail over everything.”

The familiar frustration marked with dread clawed at Eomer again. “My love for you will prevail over this,” he vowed. “Moreso because it is love returned.”

Only the sound of splattering rainfall followed, and the realization that she was starting to turn away.

“You… you do love me.”

“I do not.”

The ensuing crack of thunder paled against the shock her reply struck in Eomer. She slipped away from his side once more while he fumbled through his recollections of the previous night.

Drunk as he had been on the taste of her kisses, he could not have misunderstood her impassioned outburst. You are all I ever see, even when I do not wish to!  He had dissected that precious confession over and over in his head and basked in sweeter hope that he had ever dared to feel about anything.

“I will not accept that. I do not believe it!”

In a handful of strides he overtook her as she fled to the edge of the grove, where the trees stood further apart and exposed them to the deluge. 

“What is causing you to deny me? Deny yourself, deny us?!” She attempted to step around him, but Eomer blocked her progress relentlessly. “Is it that misguided belief of yours that I am, in your words, ‘taken’?” 

Finally she succumbed and stood in place, cold and drenched and as stock-still as a soldier holding the line. But Eomer found the answer clear on her grimace. 

"Do you mistake me for some bull that has been put on the market for the highest bidder? Or believe me so feeble that I have no control over my choice of wife?!"

She stiffened at his rising rebuke and shook her head. “Not just a wife, my lord. A Queen. You must choose the right woman to offer to Rohan as our long-awaited Queen.”

“Marry me and it is done.”

Immediately her eyes widened and her face blanched, as his bluntness finally plowed through her shields.  “Oh Eomer,” she breathed, and the return of his name on her lips nearly rendered him as dazed as she was. 

He moved to embrace her, but she clutched him by the forearms, guarding her space. He felt her fingers tremble as they dug into the fabric of his tunic sleeves. He thought he might have heard a sob, but in the rain it was impossible to discern the source of the drops slipping down her cheeks. 

“I know you are wiser than that,” she told him. “You know Rohan’s political realities, regardless of your distaste for them. Your rise to your uncle’s throne has separated us by a chasm that cannot be bridged.” She sensed his intention to interrupt and spoke even louder. “I am an orphaned stray, Eomer. Theodred’s favor may have rescued me from a life of insignificance, but I am still baseborn by anyone's standards. Yet however lowly I am, I can hold my head up with pride, because I have always known my place.”

“As do I.” Eomer slid his hand up the curve of her neck. “Your place is with me.”

“Yes it is.” Her smile was joyless as she gripped his wrist to keep his obvious desires at bay. “I belong at your side, on the open fields, with a sword in my hand, ready to give my life for you at a moment's notice. You gifted me with purpose, and riding in your company has brought me such honor. Please do not ask me to play a role where I will only fail and return to an object of derision.”

Eomer frowned. “I have only ever loved you. No one else is suitable for me to take to wife.”

She lifted those beautiful eyes to stare dead-evenly at him for the first time in months. “Dol Amroth,” she whispered. “The daughter of Prince Imrahil.”

The sadness in her eyes lifted the fog of ignorance that obfuscated him. He recognized that pain as the very same one that had pierced him each time he watched her in Theodred’s company. The way they smiled at each other, their intimate touches, their freely exchanged affection that made his stomach twist with envy. But he had been wrong in his interpretation of that situation, and so was she on this one. 

“What of her?” he said brusquely, pushing aside his full realization of what she was implying. 

“One does not have to sit at the council table to see the soundness of your match.”

“There is no match!”

“Then there will be and there should be!” she insisted. “Everyone sees it, and if you tell me you do not, then you have no right to accuse me of denying what is true.”

A low growl rumbled off Eomer and suddenly he was the one to swivel away, rubbing his face and rain-matted beard while he weighed his answer.

“I do not deny that overtures have been made by advisors, both mine and King Elessar's," he said finally. "Lothiriel does seem an obvious candidate to put forward as a consort for the King of Rohan. But that appropriateness has nothing to do with me. Had Theodred survived to stand in my place, they would be pushing her to him. Have I been counseled on the benefits of an alliance with Imrahil's house? Oh yes--with the subtlety of a hammer's blow. But I barely paid heed to that, since all that mattered to me was your opinion on the subject."

"My opinion," she echoed. She planted her hands on her hips and studied her muddied boots for a long moment. "I can offer you what I know. You, Eomer King, will be the greatest ruler the Mark has ever seen. Your rule deserves every opportunity it can claim, and this offer of an alliance with Dol Amroth is one you cannot dismiss. I have heard nothing but praise and approval at the prospect, from mouths both common and noble."

"Princess Lothiriel is young, and beautiful, and beloved. Her blood is of the most distinguished and most powerful house in Gondor. She will give you exactly what you need. What Rohan needs."

She suddenly came forward to cradle Eomer's face between her hands, a touch he had only experienced in dreams until then. Except this was more akin to his worst nightmare. His inner wretchedness must have become evident in his furrowed brow and was too pitiful to ignore. "Moreover she will adore you, if she has not fallen already, for no maiden has ever lived whose heart you cannot ensnare.”

“Do not flatter me in one breath only to spurn me in the next,” Eomer muttered. “I did not ask for you to wax poetic about my future with another woman. I want your thoughts about all that matters. Us.”

“Us?”

She tried to withdraw her hands, but Eomer caught them in time, and held them firm against his chest, as if it could make her feel how consumed his heart was by her. 

“Once I might have carried hope for us,” she said softly. “Hope that I could one day be enough, because I knew you cared for Rohan above all else and admired my dedication to our people. I thought perhaps in time, that admiration might grow to love, as mine did so quickly after I met you."

“But it did, it--”

Her hands jerked inside his grip, their next attempt at escape futile. “Any hope I had for us died with Theodred,” she said tersely. “When his charge as the King's heir passed on to you. Let it rest with him.”

The roll of receding thunder brought Eomer back to a distinct memory of that dreadful day at Isen. The raw anguish on her face as she looked up at him with Theodred's head on her lap. Her frightened reluctance at releasing the prince for Eomer to take on Firefoot. 

It had rained too when Eomer came to bring her the news of his passing not a day later. Ignoring the heavy downpour, she ran out to meet him as he approached her cottage, and broke down before he could get the words out. He had to lead her back inside and wrap her in a blanket before she caught a chill. She clung tightly to him as he held her for a long while, bewildered by her sobs. It was the only time he had ever seen her weep. 

Only then did it dawn on Eomer: it was not just the loss of Theodred that she had mourned. 

“Run away with me.” 

It burst from his lips without a thought. 

“Wh-What? No!” She yanked away from him with such force he was left grasping for empty air. 

“Come with me, and let us run away together.” He rushed after her as she strode toward their horses. She already knew his mind, but he also knew hers, and there was nothing left for him to employ to sway her to his thinking. Nothing but this brazen proposal. 

“Away to where?!” she cried, without bothering to look his way. She came up to Greywind and seized her saddle pommel, but Eomer’s hand closed around hers, stilling her progress. 

“Anywhere. Far enough to take you away from all this--” Eomer swung out his free arm in a gesture as wild as the fervor in his eyes. “Away from everything that is confusing you.”

She started shaking her head vigorously and backing away. “Eomer, no. You are mad!”

“Do not tell me that!” Eomer lurched forward in pursuit, yet knew better than to grab her. She could not lose him out here where there was nowhere to hide. But he would lose her if she shut him out again by refusing to listen. 

“Do not tell me I am mad when the only madness is you believing we do not deserve a future together!” Each time he blocked her path, she pivoted in another direction, and he immediately swerved to repeat the dance. “Madness is you rejecting a man who yearns for you more than a mortal heart could possibly bear, clinging to the barefaced lie that you do not feel exactly the same.”

At that, she fell still. In the stillness Eomer realized that the rainstorm had finally dissipated, and in studying her face, he noticed the drops that continued to slip from the edges of her closed eyes, gliding to her quivering jaw. 

“You know as well as I that we belong together.” He caught one of the tears with the edge of his thumb, smoothing his finger over her soft, flushed skin. “So let us take the road west and… and just keep riding. Let me take you home. Our people here will follow soon enough, and when they arrive we can meet them as man and wife.”

“Eomer,” she sighed, before falling silent, her eyes still shut. He hoped she would take her time finding ease, so she may really consider his offer. But she responded immediately, too quickly, once again. “We cannot just abandon our obligations.”

“You insist we cannot, but we can. You can do whatever you wish. You just need to decide what that is--"

“No! No, no, no…” The word morphed into whimpers on her lips, an effort to drown him out.

“--and that is all I ask. That you shut out thoughts of all else and answer truly, from your heart." Something in Eomer’s throat tightened, as though an invisible hand had seized his neck and threatened to choke him. He swallowed and persisted with all the courage he could muster. "Will you marry me?"

“No.”

“Please.” It tasted bitter on his tongue, for Eomer son of Eomund had never begged for anything in his life, even as it took the last shreds of pride for him not to fall on his knees in his final bid. “I am asking you for the truth. Your truth alone. Do you want me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, bearing the steely determination and battle strength that had won his respect years ago, and in that moment Eomer saw that that inner fire he loved would now crush him.

“No,” she answered. “I do not.”

To be continued in Part 3...

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#sotwk fanfiction #eomer #eomer x reader #eomer fanfiction #rohan #lotr #eomer x you #valentine event 2023 #follower request

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Blue Moon

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (movies) Ship/Pairing: Eomer x Reader (one mention of reader wearing a dress) Trope: Noble x Humble worker Note: IT’S SOTWK’s FAULT. We talked about Eomer’s hands and here we are. The title « Blue Moon » is a reference to the song « Blue Moon », my favourite rendition being sung by Ella Fitzgerald. Warnings: Horses? Word count: 1 595 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

There was something hypnotising about his hands.

The way his palm moved along the planes of the horse’s back. They were delicate. Deliberate in their care for the animal. Several times today, you had caught your gaze lingering a little too long on his slender fingers and their dexterity. Several times you had wondered what they’d feel like against your skin, in your hair weaving braids during a quiet evening. Those were fairy tales. You did not dwell on them, even when it kept you up at night; heat clinging to your skin, the chilly wind doing nothing to help your wandering mind.

It seemed to appease his uneasy nature to come here. He would go in the early hours of the day, only to come back in the middle of the morning. To the outside world, he was a leader. Someone they could trust and follow into depths unknown. Here, he was only Eomer. You considered yourself lucky to have witnessed both.

Others were concerned by his willingness to spend so much more time with you instead of them. You had dismissed them easily enough, but the thought had lingered. Why was he only asking you to help him? A bucket, water, hay, a brush for the horse’s mane. You were not willing to fathom an answer, especially if it was the wrong one. Seeing him like this it made you happy enough. You were content with this, whatever this was.

From time to time, he would ask about your day and you would always answer the same things. Fine and good. Excellent, perfect or grand. Never would you have said what you wanted to say. That it was him who made those days fine, and good and excellent and perfect and grand. Until meeting him, working with horses had been your life’s dream, and you were fulfilled by it. When he was there, you weren’t so sure anymore. It felt as if all of him was completing what you had and did not know you were missing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Barely above a whisper, his question lingered in the air between the two of you, almost as if he had not meant to ask it aloud. He was still working his fingers through the hair, looking beyond the horse’s back, away from you. If he had looked at you, you could have traced a lingering hint of a pinkish hue on his cheeks.

A chilly breeze rose, and you had to tighten the cloth around your shoulder, crossing your arms close to your chest.

“Nothing important, Sire.”

A laugh echoed through the wooden box around you.

“Then why are you boring a hole in my skull with your staring?”

Your cheek felt warmer than they had been moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, sire. If you need me to go, I… — No. Stay.”

Eomer had not meant for his voice to grow this loud. Nor to turn around so abruptly. The nerves in him, electrified by your eyes, led him to act so.

It had grown almost suddenly, this affection he had for you. First, you were something to behold. Once he discovered your face, your features, the way you moved and talked, he only ever wanted you to be near him when the mask fell off. When he could be himself and not who he was supposed to be. Second, you never pressured him into talking, going silent for hours on end, just being there with him and Lia. She was not his usual horse. He preferred not to overexert Firefoot, especially after the events he had seen on the battlefields. You were the one to care for her when he could not, even before he started mounting her. The mare had a gentler temper, dark robe and larger body. She adored you and if instincts served him right, animals were always the true tellers of someone’s nature. Thirdly, and lastly, your presence calmed him like no one else could. Except when you were threatening to leave. Or when you were looking at him, behind his back. He never wanted you to stop looking at him like that. When your eyes were observing and kind on him, his weary body and his weary mind, he felt that he could take on another thousand wars just to find you here again, safe and sound, watching him. He only hoped you could say the same about him.

“As you wish, Sire.”

The goosebumps on your arms and the way you protected yourself from the cold struck him then. With the winds of winter approaching, the weather had gone incredibly cold, and you were only wearing a thin linen above your usual dress and robes. He stepped out of the box, coming closer to you as he’d ever been. He grabbed for a cover lying around. Those were used for the horses but they’d have to do. He wrapped it around you, as tight as he could. It smelled of the stables and hay. A hint of pink shattered across his cheekbones in the morning lights. Your breaths were leaving your lips in hot clouds between you. The way he settled his palms on your shoulders, securing the cloth around you, drove a whole different kind of shiver down your spine. You could feel his fingers over the fabric, his overexerted hands catching some threads, before he took them off you, gently. You could not help the sharp inhale you took when he did.

“Would not want you freezing to death on my account.”

His smile did not reach his eyes, but you felt the warmth it procured you down to your toes. At a loss for words, you smiled in return, trying to hide your face. Your arms were still secured against your chest but your heart was not as protected as you had hoped it would be.

In a thoughtless step, Eomer leaned down and brought his lips to your cheek. He could feel the burn of them under his skin. The way you looked up at him, bewildered and hopeful, brows knitted together in confusion, only made his mouth ache for more. Still, he would not do it unless you said so. He had already overstepped and behaved un-gallantly enough. Hence his surprise when he found your hands gripping at his lapel, obviously not willing to let him go. A soft curve graced his mouth, a pleasant feeling growing in him.

“Can I…?”

Your vigorous nodding let him know exactly what he wanted. Only then did he pull you closer, his hands drawing you in, the warmth you felt from his lips and the tenderness with which his fingers nestled against your jaw below your ears, enough to make you forget about the world around. Delicately, his mouth danced with yours, eager to please and swift to do so. Soon, his wide hand drew you in, pulling you at the waist. Your fingers met his heart through cloth and flesh and bones, beating in a rhythm only known to you both.

“I…”

You bit your lip while you could see him observing you through hooded eyes, his fingertips sending shivers down your arms. He was tracing the hollow of your cheek with his knuckles, leaving you breathless once more. He looked as if he had seen the most marvellous creature in the entire world. You could not believe it was you on the other end of that fantasy.

“I… do not know what to say… I… — Then you don’t need to say anything.”

His fingers found their way down the length of your throat. He looked positively charmed, yet you pulled back, hesitant. What if this had been… just a fling? Just something he could do, just because he wanted to. No other reason. No feelings involved. What if he was playing with you?

“I will. — What?”

He chuckled at your incredulous expression.

“I will say something. — Oh.”

He brought you back to him again, kissing your cheek.

“I…” He kissed your nose. “…will never…” your other cheek. “…ever…” Your fingertips now. “…let you…” This was getting on your nerves and he knew it, smirking behind your hand. “…be seen by anyone else but me, in this state.”

The last words murmured against your cheek, to the shell of your ear, elicited a burning anticipation deep in your bones.

“My King, I would never ever let anyone but me see you in this state. — I don’t think anyone had ever really seen me before you.”

His candid answer surprised you. In a tender caress, he stroked your back through the fabrics of your clothes, not thick enough to keep his touch at bay. A thumb ventured below your breast, too close to be accidental. You inhaled sharply.

“And I will never let anyone else see me like this. If you’ll have me, of course.”

His declaration hit your heart at an arrow’s speed.

“You really mean that? I’m not just a… — You’re not just anything. You are the world and beyond. You are everything. I hope to be everything to…”

Before he could finish, you pulled him down for another kiss. This one arousing and passionate; desires trapped, finally meeting in the middle.

“I will. I absolutely will.”

A heartbeat passed in his arms, trying to keep your hands to yourselves.

“You were asking me to… — … court and eventually marry you? Yes. And you said yes, you cannot take it back now.”

Your laughter rang through him as it rang through the stables, enlightening the new day ahead.

#eomer xf!reader #eomer imagine #eomer x reader #lotr imagine #one-shot #lotr fic #it's sotwk's fault #fluff

[spiral-cut]

DecembHyur 2023 Day XII: Companions

The Swift Gale; Firefoot - When left hanging by a noose in the woods courtesy of fellow brigands ( who also absconded with his sword he pilfered off another he claims to be enchanted ), it was this wandering mare who approached the flailing bandit so his feet may find purchase atop her road-weary saddle. Be their meeting happenstance or ordained by fate, this intelligent beast of burden- aptly dubbed Firefoot, remains ever ready at its rider's beck and call. Gyoku of the Deft Fin - This flailing fish was meant to fill the belly of a visiting Ul'dahn dignitary as an exotic "catch of the day" when Theralt chanced upon the namazu, nigh-desiccated and flopping erratically on a chopping board in the kitchen of the Bismarck. Liberated from the culinary doom which awaited him, Gyoku swore, with the eyes of the Kami upon him, to lend fin and whisker to his rescuer's thieving ways. A burglar by calling and locksmith by trade, Theralt is hard-pressed to find a more suitable accomplice to aid with his banditry. Ratscal - A wharf rat of seemingly ordinary remark who remains a permanent fixture at the highwayman's side. Be it nestled within the inside pocket of his jacket or nipping at the heel of his boots- this rapscallion has braved more peril and committed more felonies than what zoologist deemed its ilk capable of. Owing to its diminutive stature and mischievous personality ( alongside unfounded claims of its ability to sense fear ), Ratscal has broken into goals and treasure vaults, chewed through countless rope and bindings, and wantonly distressed the squeamish sort by its presence alone.

I feel as though I could make a whole Disney movie based around the adventures of these four.

Other Decembhyur2023 Prompts:

Day I: Journey/ Adventure

Day II: Job/ Craft

Day III: Home

Day IV: Rain/ Sun

Day VIII: Market

Day XIII: Trust

Day XIV: Water

#|| Screenshots #decembhyur2023 #ff14 #ffxiv oc #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #hyur midlander #gpose #ffxiv gpose #la noscea #balmung #crystal rp #limsa lominsa

[seirindono]

Commission for @ mrdavid93 on DA, of none other than Demon AU Red! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to draw him, and for the inspiration hehe

(Actually, there's a second one but I'll keep it for later)

And as promised to him, here come some headcanons for the skeleman (╯✧▽✧)╯

-The fiery Demon of Wrath (AU) -While wandering around the human realm, he's developed an interest in modern clothing, which he's tried to reproduce. After many attempts to make them resist his magic, he ended up with this blazing jacket. The heat quickly becomes unbearable for others when he's on duty outside of Snowdin but he thinks it looks too cool to change (won't admit that even he get too hot smt) -As Wrath, he serves as an executioner. However, he himself is often the object of complains and punishments, either because of his temper or magic related damages. The chains he constantly wears on his wrists are designed to restrain him immediately when he loses control. It's restrictive, but he appreciates the flair that comes with it.

-His flames are directly tied to his soul and can intensify according to his mood. His vest allows him to "burn off" excess energy, but his bones usually stay very hot. He sometimes cooks food with it and drags the smell around for days. His brother hates it, but he prbly gets a kick out of it.

-Takes great pleasure in bullying Snowdin's hellhounds, whether at work or with his wicked jokes. The origins of the skulls he wears around his waist remains unknown but it scares most canine demons

-He likes to stand out, and can hardly go unnoticed anyway, with the scorched grass, slush and vapor trails he leaves in his wake (ruined too many shoes by accident, he smt goes barefoot, or-um, firefoot)

-As flamboyant as his appearance suggests in public, he likes to fight in tournaments, strut before the demons with his brother and make an example of sinners. In private, he's much less exuberant. -Will no doubt try to "break the ice" with the Human with his dubious humor (good start) or try to get them to "warm up a bit" to him with a nice, flaming handshake (very bad)

Ko-fi | Patreon | Comic | Commissions

#commission #demon au #I use it for lore purpose but it really was so much fun haha #thanks again to you! #underfell #sans #demon au underfell #undertale au

[melian]

Peter Jackson’s ‘The Lord of the Rings’ trilogy is a very sexy group of movies but today I’m thinking about Karl Urban’s portrayal of Éomer, son of Éomund, and about his line from ‘Two Towers’ where he sits atop his steed Firefoot, surrounded by thousands of Eorlingas, all of whom are prepared to charge the forces surrounding Helms Deep, and he raises his sword high against a backdrop of radiant light and says, “Rohirrim, to the king!” and honestly?  That was like.  SUPER sexy of him. 

#lotr #karl urban #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #eomer #rohirrim #rohan #peter jackson #two towers #the two towers #helms deep #forth eorlingas bitch

[carlandrea]

'So be it!' said Éomer. 'But until that time pardon me, and in token of pardon ride with me, I beg. Gandalf will be at the head with the Lord of the Mark; but Firefoot, my horse, will bear us both, if you will.'

'I thank you indeed,' said Gimli greatly pleased. 'I will gladly go with you, if Legolas, my comrade, may ride beside us.'

Eomer: heyy you want to ride with me ;)

Gimli: I'm married

#lotr newsletter #gigolas