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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 1 year

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Of Princes and Witches Chapter 6- Legolas Greenleaf x OC

Legolas Greenleaf x Alphine Barrowes

Description: After the Fellowship reaches the shore of the Anduin River they're allowed a moment of reprieve before being attacked by Uruk-hai soldiers.

Word Count: 2.2k

“We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot…we approach Mordor from the North,” Aragorn instructed, eyes grazing over each member of the Fellowship. They had just docked on the shore of the Anduin River near a large waterfall, having nowhere else to go. Alphine, who’d huddled the Hobbits close together to ensure their comfort and make sure she had an eye on them, merely nodded. After making sure they were okay, she took a seat on one of the many rocks large enough to sit on that were scattered on the shore, then looked at Gimli when he spoke..

“Oh yes,” he interjected gloomily. “Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that it gets even better… a festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see.” Alphine rolled her eyes.

“That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf,” she responded for Aragorn. The Dwarf looked indignant at her words.

“Recover my…” he grumbled. The Witch’s eyes fell on Legolas, something she’d gotten into the habit of doing when making a jest at the Dwarf’s expense. She loved watching the Elf’s lips subtly quirk up and his eyes shine when she successfully got under Gimli’s skin. Instead of seeing that this time, she watched as Legolas faced Aragorn with urgency.

“We should leave now,” he muttered quietly. If Alphine wasn’t paying close attention she wouldn’t even have heard him.

“No. Orcs patrol the Eastern shore,” the Man responded in the same tone. “We must wait for the cover of darkness.”

“It’s not the Eastern shore that worries me,” he spoke, eyes glancing over the Parth Galen forest that stood just a few feet away from the shores. “A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it.” His words worried her, and the knowing look that Aragorn offered in return didn’t help in the slightest. She watched as Merry walked over and dumped a small pile of kindling at Gimli’s feet before looking around.

“Where’s Frodo?” His question caused a chain reaction in everyone. Within seconds everyone was up and looking around for the Ring Bearer. Everyone noticed the panicked look that flashed in Alphine’s eyes and she looked around, so Aragorn stepped forward and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“He probably just wandered off to clear his head,” he reassured her gently. “I will go look for him. You stay here with the others.” Though hesitant, the Witch nodded with a small sigh and sat down on one of the many large rocks on the shore. She watched as the Ranger disappeared into the woods, an uneasy feeling sinking into her stomach. Legolas was quick to notice that, and he began walking over to her but suddenly paused.

“What is it?” Alphine questioned softly. The elf had no time to say anything before a terrifying sounding war cry broke through the trees. Without warning, a swarm of Uruk-hai and Orcs surrounded them. In an instant the Fellowship was up.

“Get to the woods,” Legolas instructed urgently. Of course Alphine’s first priority was the hobbits, so she made sure Sam, Merry and Pippin entered the woods before her. Sam immediately ran off to find Frodo, ignoring Alphine’s cries for him to come back. She knew it was all for naught, however, so she instead focused on the rest of the Hobbits. Unfortunately that didn’t last long as she was suddenly surrounded by a small mass of Orcs ready to kill her where she stood.

It took her no time at all to take them down with both her magic and her sword, but by the time she managed to get away the Hobbits had practically disappeared. She began running in the last direction she saw them go, but paused momentarily when she heard a horn being blown in the distance. It was the horn of Gondor. Boromir. That kicked her brain into overdrive and she picked up her pace, sprinting to where the noise was coming from.

A horde of Uruk-hai soldiers were rushing towards Merry and Pippin, only being stopped by Boromir. There were too many for him to handle on his own, so she stepped in, taking down as many as she could as she attempted to reach them. There was little time for talk as they began felling every soldier that came near them. Alphine’s focus was solely on the soldiers right in front of her, so she didn’t have a lot of sight on her surroundings. That meant that she hadn’t noticed the leader of the Uruk-hai taking aim with his bow and arrow from a distance. But Boromir did.

“Alphine!” The Witch was suddenly pushed aside by the Man, but before she could question what he was doing she was shocked to see an arrow suddenly fly into his chest. A gasp left her lips as the man grunted. She began searching for the direction the arrow had come from, but in her panic she just couldn’t find it. Her focus was on Boromir once again as a second arrow landed in his chest. The Man staggered back, but when Alphine moved to help him he held a hand up to stop her.

“Keep fighting!” He demanded. In her distraction a soldier managed to get close enough to stab his makeshift sword into her side. A pained cry left her lips as she fell in shock, and at the same time the leader shot a third and final arrow, hitting his mark for the third time. The three wounds combined was what finally brought Boromir to his knees. The Uruk-hai used their falls to their advantage and advanced upon them, scooping up the Hobbits in one fell swoop and ran off.

Alphine attempted to get up, but was quickly knocked down by the mass. They trampled her, which only added to her pain. Faintly she could hear the Hobbits calling her and Boromir’s name, but she could do nothing until the area finally cleared out. She shakily began to get up, but froze when she noticed the Uruk-hai leader standing in front of Boromir, who was still surprisingly on his knees. She watched weakly as the creature aimed his loaded bow straight at the Man’s heart.

He was suddenly stopped when Aragorn charged at him from behind, smashing the bow with his sword. The two locked in a deadly battle, and Alphine used that time to shakily crawl over to Boromir, who’d finally fallen to the ground. She quickly grabbed him and used what was left of her strength to move him out of the way. After a moment she managed to lean against a nearby tree, carefully tapping his face to wake him up.

“Come, Boromir, you must stay awake,” she whispered urgently. The man’s eyes barely opened, then they trailed down to Alphine’s wounded side.

“You’re hurt,” the man gasped out. The Witch shook her head with a weak smile.

“Do not worry about me,” she retorted gently. “You must stay awake.” She continued to keep him awake and tried to stop the bleeding as Aragorn finally finished the Uruk leader off by decapitating him. Once he was sure the leader was dead, he rushed over to Boromir and Alphine.

“They took the little ones,” Boromir informed him painfully. Aragorn helped her staunch the flow of blood from the Man’s wounds.

“Boromir, you must stay still,” Alphine reprimanded, though there was no conviction behind her words. Boromir didn’t listen to her as he looked at Aragorn in a panic.

“Frodo…where is Frodo?”

“I let Frodo go,” he answered soothingly. Boromir nodded, a sad glint in his eyes.

“Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him,” he confessed.

“The Ring is beyond our reach now,” Alphine responded in the same tone as Aragorn, taking his hand.

“Forgive me,” Boromir muttered, squeezing her hand weakly. “I did not see… I have failed you all.” Immediately they began protesting.

“No, Boromir, you fought bravely. You have kept your honor,” Aragorn retorted softly yet firmly. He began trying to bind the Man’s wound, but he stopped him.

“Leave it! It is over...the world of Men will fall and all will come to darkness and my city to ruin..Aragorn..” Alphine looked at Aragorn helplessly. He shook his head.

“I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you... I will not let the White City fall, nor your people fail…”

“Our people...our people…” Boromir corrected weakly. Alphine noticed his free hand reaching out for something. His sword. She carefully leaned over and placed the sword in his hand, watching his fingers tighten around the hilt. His eyes met hers, and she knew that his time was coming to an end.

“Do not cry for me,” he whispered upon noticing tears welling up in her eyes, weakly lifting a hand to cradle her face as a form of comfort. “Remember me fondly. You are a wonderful person, Alphine Barrowes.” The girl nodded at him with a small smile and a quiet sniffle.

“I will. And no one blames you, Boromir. You were amazing,” she whispered, voice cracking in the middle of her sentence. He nodded with what little strength he had and a weak smile before facing Aragorn.

“I would have followed you, my brother...my captain, my King,” he muttered. Alphine could practically feel the life leaving him as he spoke. And with that, the last light left his eyes and he became limp in the man’s arms. His free hand fell from Alphine’s cheek, landing by his side. Aragorn carefully laid Boromir on the ground, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead afterwards.

“Be at peace, son of Gondor,” he whispered. Alphine heard footsteps behind them, but she was not afraid. She’d grown to recognize Gimli and Legolas’ footsteps over the course of their journey. Aragorn carefully stood, a frown on his face.

“They will look for his coming from the white tower…but he will not return,” he muttered sadly.

The Witch’s eyes stayed on Boromir's face. He looked so peaceful now. His eyes were still open and glazed over, staring straight into hers. It was overwhelming almost to the point of physically hurting, so she carefully lifted her hand, closing the man’s eyes with the utmost gentleness. It seemed that his eyes closing finally made her understand that he was actually gone because the sight brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.

She turned her head painfully, not wishing to see the person she’d grown to see as a friend so lifeless, but she was instead met with the brightest blue set of Elven eyes. Legolas had managed to walk up to her without her realizing it, and he now sat crouched beside her. His gaze broke from hers, but they stayed on her form as he began to examine her for any wounds. A worried look appeared on his face when he noticed the wound in her left side.

“You’re hurt,” he muttered in concern, earning a weak nod from the girl.

“I made a mistake… became distracted during battle,” she explained, eyes subconsciously moving back to Boromir. Legolas noticed that, and grabbed her hand so her attention would shift back to him.

“We must bind it before it gets infected,” he said. The girl nodded slowly then shakily began to stand, only to be stopped by the Elf.

“Stay down until I’m done,” he instructed carefully. “The bleeding will increase if you’re standing.” Alphine nodded, holding back a hiss when he tore a piece off of his cloak and began cleaning the wound. It took him no time at all to bind the wound with a second piece of his cloak, then he stood up and held out a hand for her. Once she was standing Legolas suddenly crouched again and did something she couldn’t quite see. She was too exhausted to question it, however, and instead followed the others to the river’s shore. Once they reached the tree line Legolas sped up a bit and walked over to one of the remaining boats.

“If we are quick, we will catch Frodo and Sam before nightfall,” he said quickly. When Aragorn didn’t answer at first, Alphine looked at him. The man was looking towards the far shore where Frodo and Sam’s boat was. Both she and Legolas immediately understood what he was thinking.

“You mean not to follow them…” the Elf muttered.

“Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands,” Aragorn answered simply, earning a frown from Alphine.

“Then it has all been in vain,” Gimli grumbled. “The Fellowship has failed.”

“Not if we hold true to each other,” the Man protested. “We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death, not while we have strength left.” He paused to pull a hunting knife out of his pack and strap it on before looking at them again.

“Leave all that can be spared behind,” he continued grimly. “We travel light. Let's hunt some Orc.” His conclusion excited the Dwarf because he laughed heartily.

“Yes!” His enthusiasm earned a weak smile from Alphine as she strapped any weapons and other supplies she’d need to herself. Once everyone was ready they followed Aragorn back into the woods, following the Uruk-hai trail.

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagine #legolas greenleaf #legolas imagine #legolas x oc

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silmaspens · 3 years

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Inktober Day 21- 25

Fuzzy Open Leak Extinct Splat

#Luthien and Huan best buddies ever #I didn’t know what to do for this one #Gandalf #doors of durin #be honest who still has ‘Mellon’ for a password #🙋‍♀️#stinky #man I think that one is my least favorite #tar mairon #Sauron #spoilers for the Amazon show lmao #In contrast I think this one might be my fav #hobbits crossing through the barrow downs #maeglin go splat #fall of gondolin #my art #tolkien #silmart #inktober

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omgkatsudonplease · 3 years

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[ficlet, bagginshield] we could form an attachment (bridgerton au)

The gardens at Long Cleeve Hall are stifling with the aroma of wisteria. Bilbo Baggins, who had hoped to escape there for some air, finds it frankly just as hard to breathe there as he had inside the Hall itself.

“Bilbo?” Lobelia Bracegirdle’s voice rings out from not too far away, causing Bilbo to leap to attention again. “Bilbo Baggins, get out here this instant! The Springle-ring is starting and you signed my dance card!”

Oh merciful Giver spare me, Bilbo thinks mutinously, rushing away from the sound of her voice deeper into the gardens. He had only agreed to stand up with her to be polite, but if this is how she’s going to handle him needing some air, he might as well leave her hanging all night. Miss Bracegirdle’s forceful personality might make her seem charming (if not intimidating) to other Hobbit-lads on the marriage market, but her inability to take no for an answer and her overt interest in becoming mistress of Bag End has completely drained him of any hypothetical interest he may have had in her.

He spots a decent-sized hedge and dives behind it just as Miss Bracegirdle enters the gardens, her white gown making her look like the shroud of some terrible Barrow-wight as she cranes her head around for him. Bilbo hardly dares to breathe, listening only to the merry refrain of the Springle-ring in the distance matching with the sound of his own heartbeat.

“Where is that blasted Mr Baggins?” grumbles Miss Bracegirdle as she heads deeper into the gardens, just past his hiding space. He exhales as soon as she vanishes from sight, before turning and almost colliding with another dark figure lurking in the hedge.

Bilbo’s first instinct is to scream, but then that would call Miss Bracegirdle back to him. The figure turns to look at him, and a mixture of shock and resignation floods through Bilbo all at once.

It’s King Thorin.

Bilbo remembers their first meeting at the season-opening Party Field Dance. He had been doing evasive manouevres from Miss Bracegirdle at that time, too, and had bumped quite literally into King Thorin. The Dwarf-king had refused to indulge him in his paltry attempts to make conversation, though he did recognise Gandalf, Bilbo’s chaperone for this year’s social season.

It seems that Gandalf had agreed to accompany Bilbo to this year’s social events for no real reason other than a general desire to disturb the peace, because no sooner after finding that King Thorin was in the Shire on a goodwill tour before the hunting season starts in the Ered Luin, Gandalf had decided to arrange a dinner party for all of them. So this is now his third encounter with King Thorin, and it seems that each time, the Dwarf-king gets a little more handsome and a lot more rude.

“What are you doing out here, Mr Baggins?” demands King Thorin.

“Could ask the same of you, Your Majesty,” hisses Bilbo, putting a finger to his lips. “And hush, there’s someone looking for me.”

“Miss Bracegirdle, right?” wonders King Thorin drily, raising an eyebrow.

Bilbo grits his teeth at the condescension rolling off the Dwarf-king in waves, and turns back to the leaves to keep his eye out for Miss Bracegirdle’s return. “What business is it of yours?” he mutters.

“Oh, you could do better,” scoffs King Thorin.

“I would rather not do anybody here,” replies Bilbo.

That gets King Thorin’s eyebrow raising in curiosity. “If you have no wish to marry anybody here, then why are you at these events at all?”

“Because it’s the respectable thing to do,” says Bilbo. “I know you come from some far-off hill —”

“The Lonely Mountain, actually —” offers King Thorin.

“Whatever.” Bilbo waves a hand at that. “You’re not from these parts, so you couldn’t possibly understand the importance of respectability.”

King Thorin raises an eyebrow, and Bilbo suddenly realises exactly what he’d said. His cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I mean — respectability with Hobbits is much different than with Dwarves — I’m sure you’re perfectly respectable with your folks, otherwise you wouldn’t be King!”

“I still fail to see how that equates making yourself do something you do not wish to do,” replies King Thorin.

Bilbo swallows. It had been his mother’s dying wish that he fall in love and get married someday. And that was part of the reason why he’d kept going to these events, year after year, in the vain hope that perhaps this year things will be different. Perhaps this year someone special will sweep him off his feet.

In turn, all he’s gotten out of it is a reputation for pickiness, speculation on whether or not there’s something wrong with him for not settling for some pretty Hobbit-lass who can’t see him past his family name, and anxiety at the possibility of having to attend these events until he’s old and shrivelled. But he’s not going to explain all of that to some Dwarf-king only in the Shire to rake some buds before he goes to be Dwarf-kingly at the Ered Luin.

“You know, I haven’t seen you on the dance floor at all tonight,” he says, changing the subject. “Surely a King would know how to dance.”

“Yes, of course,” replies King Thorin, his tone mildly irritated.

Bilbo hums. “Surely even a King of Dwarves knows that in the Shire, the lads must not leave any lasses who wish to dance sitting by the side,” he adds.

“Your point being?” wonders King Thorin.

Bilbo crosses his arms. “Why attend these events at all if you will not do the polite thing and dance? Is it because you also don’t want to be here?”

Perhaps it’s a trick of the light, but the very tips of King Thorin’s ears seem to flush pink. “I am here in the Shire as part of my goodwill tour before going hunting in the Blue Mountains,” he points out, his voice thick with something Bilbo can’t quite place. “Am I not allowed to amuse myself and experience Hobbit culture prior to my departure?”

“You have a odd definition of amusement, then, since you spend these balls glowering to the side,” replies Bilbo.

“You would be glowering, too, if all of the mamas of the Shire keep flocking to you in hopes of introducing you to all of their marriageable children,” retorts King Thorin. “I am here to observe, not find a spouse.”

Bilbo snorts. “And I am here to find my true love, but as a gentlehobbit in possession of a good fortune, I find myself surrounded more by dissemblers and treasure-hunters,” he remarks drolly. “Hence, six-going-on-seven years of unattachment.”

“Ah, yes, the Shire’s elusive hare.” King Thorin’s brows knit. “Is it true this is your seventh season? I only read of it in the Stormcrow pamphlets.”

Bilbo hums. “Stormcrow talks of you, too. Says you are colder than the Fell Winter. Not very good for foreign relations, I imagine.”

“That is entirely unfair,” mutters King Thorin. “I should not be painted wintry just because I have yet to dance.”

“Is it better or worse than being described as a hare to be hunted?” retorts Bilbo.

King Thorin grows thoughtful at that. After a moment, he puts his hands together, and fixes Bilbo with the full brunt of his steely blue gaze.

“How would you like to solve our joint Lord Stormcrow problem together?”

For the gathered attendees of the dance at Long Cleeve Hall, the most exciting part of the night had not been when Hanncome Hobson and Marigold Morstan announced their betrothal, nor was it when Falstaff Proudfoot fell into the punch bowl.

No, the most exciting part of the night was when Gandalf set off an entire array of golden fireworks and sparklers, dazzling across the night sky before falling back down on their wondering faces in flocks of golden petals. And it was in the midst of all of this when Bilbo Baggins and King Thorin II of Erebor arrived back at the hall, hand-in-hand.

“Don’t panic,” says King Thorin out of the corner of his mouth. Bilbo takes a deep breath, willing his nerves not to show as they make their way through the gathered crowd, heading for the dance floor.

“We could form an attachment.”

The couples on the floor are now dancing the Weller-spin, a lively yet rather shockingly intimate dance involving pairs circling one another with their arms tightly wound around one another. Bilbo’s heart stutters at the sight, but King Thorin presses them onwards, into a miraculously empty spot on the dance floor.

“Look into my eyes,” he suggests. Bilbo complies, gasping in spite of himself when he feels the Dwarf-king’s hand at his back. He scrambles to return the favour, clasping their other hands together above their heads. “If this is to work, we must appear madly in love.”

“I am trying to avoid diplomatic disaster in the Shire, and you are trying to find your true love. With this arrangement, the rest of the Shire — particularly Lord Stormcrow — will believe that I am not so cold as my initial impression might seem, while you will have turned from being the quarry into the hunter.”

They begin to move together to the music, spinning along with the other couples. King Thorin’s hand is steady against Bilbo’s back as they dance, the heat rolling off of him running through Bilbo’s body to settle in his stomach. The Dwarf-king’s gaze is softer now, something less like cold steel and more like a summer sky.

“In other words, I will no longer be wintry, nor will you be a hare.”

King Thorin spins him out of his arms, before reeling him back in. Bilbo goes willingly, only half of his breathlessness feigned for show. They take each other’s hands in a promenade, turning together before moving back into one another’s arms again.

“Your Majesty,” begins Bilbo, but King Thorin cuts him off with a chuckle.

“We are courting,” he reminds him. “Call me Thorin.”

“Very well, Thorin.” Bilbo smiles. “Do you know the other parts of Hobbit courtship?”

Thorin’s brows briefly furrow. “You will have to educate me, Mr Baggins,” he replies.

Bilbo chuckles at that. “Bilbo,” he says. “Since we are courting, like you mentioned.”

“Bilbo,” agrees Thorin, and the sound of his own name being said by that low voice makes shivers run down Bilbo’s spine. “Tell me more about Hobbit courtship.”

In spite of himself, Bilbo’s stomach flutters.

“This is madness,” Bilbo breathes, looking up at King Thorin, still utterly lost and nervous and perplexed.

“Yet there is method to it,” answers King Thorin. “Provided, of course, that we can amiably part ways at the end of the season, or when someone finds they are so truly in love with you that they would dare to go toe-to-toe with a King for your hand. For as long as I do not love you, and you do not love me, then what have we to lose?”

#bagginshield #thilbo #the hobbit #lily's dabbles #tolkien #moving this out of the previous post it was nested in #bridgerton au

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cycas · 4 years

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The Adventures of Peregrine Took

Hello @puzzled-dragon ! I got you a present! For @officialtolkiensecretsanta I have rummaged deep in the Shire Archives, and found a long-forgotten slip of paper torn from some lost record. Written on it was this poem. Alas, I am not the translator of Westron poetry that Tolkien was, but I have done my best!

A Poem by Samwise Gamgee (Mayor) and Merry Brandybuck on the occasion of Peregrine Took, Knight of Gondor, becoming Thane of the Shire. Peregrine, son of Paladin, Was known in every pub and inn, For drinking mugs of foaming ale And singing songs and telling tales And eating pies Of enormous size And never doing anything wise!

He left the Shire and went away Through haunted woods, past barrows grey, He walked with friends one, two, and three And drank a bit too much in Bree.

They fled, pursued by riders dire, Up to their knees in bogs and mire, To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell, And on through mountain, hill and dell.

He joked and talked with Elf and Man, with wizard, dwarf and hobbits sang, New songs and old; not freezing toes, Nor howling wolves or even snow, Nor death nor grief nor rainy weather, Could damp his spirits altogether.

To golden Elvenwoods he fled High in a tree his blanket spread Walked on a rope across a stream And saw the cold bright water gleam Beneath and yet he did not trip But crossed with many a cheerful quip And where immortals dance and sing He taught the Elves the Springle-ring! A merry dance defying grief In forest fair with golden leaf And silver stems. They could not stay But took to boats and paddled away.

Seized cruelly by nasty orcs, He kept his wits and did not squawk, But grabbed his luck with both his hands, escaping into wild woodlands, With Meriadoc Brandybuck, And with considerable pluck, They found new friends and set about, Setting bad old Sharkey to rout!

He swore his faith to the White City, And served with honour and with pity, As darkness rose and doom befell A proud lord and the Citadel Burned. Battle raged upon the field, The King returned and his hands healed.

Peregrine, son of Paladin, went to the Black Gate with the King Defied doom and Sauron’s host, Faced a monstrous beast of stone With sword in hand and struck it down Slew the troll and lived to toast The victory in ample beer, A knight of Gondor full of cheer.

At last we came back to our home, A place to rest, no more to roam, And found the enemy had come, Old Sharkey and his Mannish scum, To bring all that we loved to ruin.

Pip took one look, and with a grin He tore the list of Rules in half Burned them gaily, with a laugh. Then with his friends he raised the Shire From heart to heart there ran a fire A word of hope, a light that burned; Dark days done, and the King returned.

Peregrine, son of Paladin, Well known in hobbithole and inn, As our new Thain will blessings bring May he long dance the Springle-ring In lands at peace untroubling.

#tss2019 #pippin took #hobbit poetry #writing

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dragonatthedinnertable · 4 years

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Today I watched "Hobitit", the Finnish TV adaptation of the Lord of the Rings. 9 25-min episodes. It's nod bad (although not good, either). I have a lot of thoughts about this. I'm gonna break them up by episode (roughly).

Episode 1: Bilbo. This one is just old!Samwise talking to some Hobbit children about the War of the Ring and Bilbo's riddle game with Gollum. When a kid asks "What about Frodo?", he very dramatically says "His time will come soon..." and stalks outside.

Episode 2: The Road.

Hobbiton looks really dark & grim (and the model shot hass like 5 houses).

Bag End doesn't look fancy. It looks like the same 5 boxy houses as the rest.

Gandalf's moustache is glorious.

Samwise has a bad 80's mullet going on. I can't take him seriously.

Using the Ring makes the wearer disappear in a puff of smoke.

The Black Riders are really cool. They're rotoscoped, translucent, and animated at a lower frame-rate. They look really otherworldly.

Episode 3: The Old Forest.

I think this is the first adaptation that uses ol' Tom Bombadil?

Lots of green lighting in the forest. I'm 99% sure that they never actually put the actors in front of anything but a blue-screen when they're outside.

We get our first special effect. It's seriously worse than half of what I see on old Doctor Who...

They include the bit where a barrow-wight captures the Hobbits, but we don't see the wight, and barely see the barrow, so if you don't know the book this scene makes no sense.

There's a side bit where Gandalf gives his message to Butterbur, and then goes to see Saruman. There's someone else at Isengard, who I'd guess would be Wormtongue, but since we never see either of these again it doesn't matter.

Episode 4: The Prancing Pony.

They get a really cool background music for The Cat and the Fiddle song. I don't think it's Frodo's actor singing, though.

The Hobbits seem exactly the same height as everyone else.

Strider is good as a Ranger, but throughout I really don't buy him as a royal heir.

Episode 5: Strider

Weathertop is basically a small pile of stones.

There's a shot of the crebain with NO significance whatsoever.

The fight with the Black Riders is really vague. The Fellowship is crouching in the forest, waving torches. Frodo puts on the ring with like no prompting, and then there's splashing and he wakes up in a white room.

That white room (completely featureless) is Rivendell, apparently. They use his bed as the table.

For some reason, Boromir has a weird kind of punk-rock samurai vibe? He's got a rice farmer hat on his back.

Gimli has the shortest beard I've ever seen on a dwarf. Like, it's 3 months of growth, at most???

Ancient-looking Bilbo comes in, offering to take the Ring to Mordor. Everyone's like, "Now, now, Bilbo..."

Episode 6: Lorien

With a bit of narration, we skip through Hollin and right to the fight with the orcs in Moria.

We don't see the Balrog at all, just Gandalf swirling down a fiery-red drain hole???

Lorien has nothing but Galadriel in a lake, which is the Mirror.

This is the point I realised that Legolas hasnt' said a word the entire time. He doesn't.

They do the whole breaking of the Fellowship here too. The orcs' arrows are weirdly twiggy.

Boromir has a frikkin' KATANA! Like, what???

This is the last time we see Aragorn, Legolas & Gimli.

Episode 7: Mordor

Mount Doom is visible as a cinder-cone spouting flame like an oil refinery.

Sam & Frodo cross the Emyn Muil. There's a whole bit with the Elvish rope, which is weird because there was definitely no gift-giving scene in Lorien.

Gollum is very stutter-weepy.

Old!Sam covers the entirety of the Treebeard thing & the sack of Isengard in 2 minutes of narration. Rohan isn't mentioned at all.

The Eye of Sauron is literally an eye. A human eye. Blue-screened onto the sky. The iris is different colours sometimes.

Episode 8: Mount Doom

The Black Gate is really, really small.

The entrance to Shelob's Cave looks just like I expected the Sammath Naur to look, which was confusing.

We don't see Shelob at all. There's no build-up, no Gollum talking about "Her!". We just see Frodo falling as if stung, and Gollum yelling "The Shelob got him!" That's it. The orcs certainly talk about her as if she's there. I was hoping for at least a really bad model or overlay effect, but given the lack of a Balrog I shouldn't be surprised.

Episode 9: Liberation

The Ring literally weighs Sam down when he puts the chain on. Same when Frodo puts it back on.

When we see Mount Doom, it looks like a really-low shot of a steep columnar peak.

Next time we see it, Frodo is strangely half-way up.

Then we see Gollum & Frodo at the top, and it's just a really short, squat cinder cone.

When Gollum falls in, it looks exactly the same as Khazad-dûm, except that the Eye is there. And there's the same effect where Gollum looks like he's going down a plug-hole.

After Mount Doom explodes, Sam & Frodo wake up in the same featureless room of Rivendell. Apparently it's Minas Tirith. We never see another part of the city at all.

Surprisingly, we actually see the Scouring of the Shire. Or at least part of it. After Merry threatens his way into the guard house at the Brandywine Bridge, there's just Hobbits running around with farming tools.

I think we see Saruman coming out of Bag End? It's hard to tell, because he's only in shot for a few seconds, and also the same size as the Hobbits (just like everyone else is).

After old!Sam finishes his story, he walks in the same direction as Frodo left in. There's no harbour, but he walks dramatically along the Straight Road.

None of the actors can emote very well. This, along with the blue-screening of all outdoor shots, makes the whole thing feel very flat. It purports to just tell the bits of the story that the Hobbits see, but that seems to translate only to Sam. It's weird not seeing anything of Treebeard, or Rohan, or Minas Tirith.

That said, the writers know the lore of the world really well. Old!Samwise namedrops Gil-Galad, they use all the names of Rauros, that kind of thing. There's nicely poignant bits thrown in there. Boromir delivers his "give me the Ring, Frodo" speech as flat as anything, but when they close-up on his face, his eyes are swimming in tears.

Overall, I give it a solid 5/10.

#Nina watches #lotr #Hobitit

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glassrain · 5 years

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Frodo is so brave.

It might not be the first thing you notice about him. In fact, many readers might be inclined to disregard his unique bravery entirely, because it’s not as blatant and easy to spot as the bravery of, say, Gandalf or Aragorn. He likes his creature comforts, his books and his meals and his rest, and is rather disinclined toward hardship. When faced with a dangerous journey, he lingers in the Shire as long as he can, putting off his task for as long as possible. When he’s weary, his first instinct is to sit and rest, maybe grab a bite, instead of pushing forward through the pain. These aren’t exactly the shining actions of some great beacon of courage.

But Frodo, for all his faults, is in no means short on bravery. When journeying through the Old Forest, Frodo tried to leverage Old Man Willow, threatening (at Sam’s suggestion) to burn him down if he did not release Merry and Pippin - and this was not five minutes after Willow nearly drowned Frodo in the Withywindle. And again, against the Barrow-wight, Frodo attacked and wounded it with a sword, after having been lured away from his friends and being currently captured and buried underground.

And of course, there’s Frodo and the Nazgûl. Frodo first faces the Nazgûl properly on Weathertop. It’s in the middle of the night, and Frodo now knows enough about this enemy to be properly terrified. Five looming monsters, like living shadows that breath out fear and death, and all of them here with the sole purpose of killing him. When they charge him, even as terrified as he is, Frodo still draws his sword to defend himself (unlike the movie, where Frodo can do nothing but back away in terror) and invoke the name of Elbereth as he desperately attacks this immortal creature. It is this courage that saves his life, deflecting the wound from his heart to his shoulder.

And then later, during that last stretch as the company races for Rivendell, the five Nazgûl call to Frodo with magic, keeping him from racing off on Asfaloth. But even as they sway him, Frodo rounds on them and draws his sword. Fortunately Glorfindel urges Asfaloth to run and sends Frodo away, but the point still stands that Frodo was ready and willing to face down five immortal ministers of darkness, knowing full well that his sword is incapable of doing them harm.

And finally, when Frodo crosses the river, he doesn’t know that he is safe. He knows that Asfaloth is no longer running, and that all that stands between him and the Nine is a small stretch of water. And Frodo, poisoned and dying; utterly exhausted and unable even to see properly; with only a laughably useless weapon at his disposal and his arm completely incapacitated; and being enchanted so that he is unable to even save his own life; with all this, pulls himself to his feet and draws his sword and says, No. Even knowing that it is useless, he raises his weapon and orders them to leave, tells these creatures of nightmare that neither he nor the Ring will fall to them this day. Frodo, this tiny, dying Hobbit who has never even properly handled a weapon in his life, stalwartly refusing to bow down and accept his fate.

And all throughout his journey, Frodo shows tremendous courage and fortitude, even in smaller ways. Frodo immediately deciding to take the Ring away from the Shire to protect the Hobbits, despite not knowing where his journey should lead while being fully aware that terrible danger would be close at his heels. Frodo remaining strong after he’d been stabbed with the Morgul-blade, even being able to laugh with his friends, or journey on foot when he had to, knowing full well he’d been poisoned with a very deadly poison, and little hope of survival. Frodo foraging on through the Old Forest, even though it frightened him. Frodo, stoutly refusing to leave his friends to the mercy of the Ringwraiths just to save his own skin, until Glorfindel points out that his departure would more than likely lead the monsters away from his loved ones. Yes, Frodo might have his flaws, like being prone to bouts of blatant pettiness and being a rather poor judge of character, but there’s no denying that one Frodo Baggins is a uniquely courageous little Hobbit.

#lord of the rings #frodo baggins #lotr #lotr - commentary #j.r.r. tolkien #tolkien #the fellowship of the ring #i adore frodo okay?#he's my favorite hobbit #he's also one of my favorite characters in this whole series #if not my top favorite #on this blog we love and respect frodo baggins #yes - this is unabashedly a frodo baggins appreciation post #no other reason for it #just that frodo deserves some appreciation #and i love him

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arofili · 3 years

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Innumerable Stars 2021 Letter

Hello lovely creator, thanks for writing for me in Innumerable Stars 2020! I’m very excited and grateful for whatever you create for me <3

This letter will restate my DNWs, list my likes, give you a brief rundown of my canon preferences, and then dive into specific prompts for each of my requests. I’ll warn you upfront that I tend to ramble, so feel free to skip prompts that don’t interest you and/or use ctrl+F to search for whatever it is you want to write for. I’ve named each of my requests based on the basic idea within it, so hopefully that will be helpful for you!

Housekeeping

DNWs:

non-con/dub-con

ABO (heat fic is fine)

food involved in sex

abusive/neglectful parenting (especially not with Fëanor; Eöl is the only exception, but even then don’t dwell on it)

sibling incest and parent-child incest (cousin incest is fine)

unhappy/unhopeful endings (unless requested)

jealousy

possessiveness EXCEPT with Russingon, for some reason I love it with those two

cheating

character or ship bashing

hanahaki or any scenario where unrequited love is physically damaging

soulmates, especially soulmate AUs BUT soul bonds are excellent as long as there is an element of choice involved

unrequested modern AU

non-trans mpreg

if you are writing a slash ship where the characters are/were married to/involved with someone outside of the ship in canon, please don’t have the character(s) hate their spouse or not have been actually in love with them. The only exception to this is Finrod; I’m fine with him and Amárië not having been actually in love, but don’t do this for anyone else, especially not Fëanor.

Hobbit/LOTR-specific DNWs:

the concept of a dwarven “One”

any Fíli pairing, even in reference

Alfrid

Legolas or Gimli paired with anyone other than each other

mortals dying super quickly in Valinor

unrequested smut

Silm-specific DNWs:

evil/irredeemable/incel Maeglin

Elwing bashing

Fëanorian bashing

over-the-top Fëanorian apologism (they did bad stuff; it was at least partially their fault. you don’t have to address that, necessarily, but don’t rewrite the story to claim they were blameless)

Fingon with a wife

Fingon or Maedhros ships that don’t take Russingon into account (polyamory, an open relationship, Mae with someone after Finno dies or vice versa for an AU, them with other people while they’re separated on the Ice/in Angband - all of these scenarios are fine, but in the end I need them to be with each other first and foremost)

dark!Maedhros

elvish re-embodiment after death being an actual, literal rebirth that requires the characters to have a second childhood; I much prefer them being granted a new hröa in their prime (feel free to explore what “in their prime” means, though, especially wrt scarred and disabled elves)

Likes:

queer headcanons, especially aromantic-spectrum headcanons & trans/nonbinary headcanons

trans/nonbinary pregnancy and parenthood

found family

queerplatonic relationships

kidfic

angst with a happy ending

gray morality

explorations of magic

most tropes

fanon and fandom tropes

deconstruction/inversion of fanon and fandom tropes

secret relationships

secret kids (especially secret peredhil)

giving ships OC kids

confessions of love

first times

hurt/comfort

redemption, forgiveness, mercy

ironic foreshadowing

canon divergence AUs and X Lives AUs

fairy tale AUs

politics and scheming

resolving conflicting canonical details

names fitting the time period (Quenya names in Valinor, please; if this is difficult for you, that’s okay, no pressure, but I do strongly prefer it)

choice of character names having a lot of thought put behind them (does the character go back to their original Quenya name upon rebirth? or do they keep their Sindarin name? or come up with something else entirely? do they hate their new Sindarin name and resent having to use it, or do they embrace it? As long as you put some thought into it, I’m sure I’ll like whatever you decide!)

author’s notes where you explain your thought process, if you want; I love hearing how the story took shape!

Preferences re: canon:

LaCE compliance is always completely optional. If you do want to include it, that’s great, but if you just want the characters to fuck without having that be an issue, go for it. I love explorations of LaCE that take into account the exceptions, boundaries, definitions, etc; I also love takes that emphasize that they are Laws and Customs, not biological imperatives.

I’m not picky about my Amrod deaths. He can die at either Losgar or Sirion (or, hell, some other time/place if you make it interesting enough!), whatever works best for the story. I do like Lightly Toasted Amrod, aka he almost burns to death at Losgar but survives/gets rescued at the last minute.

Gil-galad theories are all very fun. Please don’t make him the son of Fingon and a wife; if he’s Fingon’s son, I want Maedhros to be involved at least a little bit (adoption or trans mpreg are both fine in this scenario). Otherwise, I don’t have a particular preference, though if it’s not really relevant I usually default to the son of Orodreth (who is in turn the son of Angrod).

Honestly, when it comes to theories and headcanons, my rule of thumb is “convince me”! I’m down for whatever, for the most part, as long as you can justify it :)

~~~

LOTR Books Request

Gigolas tags: Gimli, Legolas, Group: Gimli & Legolas, Group: Gimli/Legolas, Group: Gimli/Legolas & Glóin, Group: Gimli/Legolas & Thranduil, Group: Legolas & Aragorn & Gimli, Group: Glóin & Thranduil, Original Dwarf of Aglarond, Original Elf of Ithilien Suggested worldbuilding tags: Battle of Dale, Differences in Elvish & Dwarvish Histories, Fall of Dol Guldur, Interspecies Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rebuilding of Ithilien

All Gigolas is good Gigolas, and you can quote me on that - but I do have a soft spot for queerplatonic Gigolas, and I might die of happiness if you wrote me some :) I love elf/dwarf relationships, and cultural differences leading to miscommunication is one of my favorite tropes for this ship.

For the “& Thranduil” and “& Glóin” I’d love to see some “telling the family” scenarios, with Thranduil and Glóin coming to terms with their sons’ relationship. For “& Aragorn” I was imagining a Three (or Four, if you want to keep Boromir alive!) Hunters situation with Aragorn third wheeling them (and/or commiserating with Boromir about how terrible their friends are at expressing their feelings).

I’m very interested in Legolas and Gimli’s new homes post-War, how much time they spent visiting each other and how much time they spent apart, etc. I would love to see an outside POV of Gigolas, what their friends and subordinates think of this odd couple; perhaps an elf of Ithilien and a dwarf of Aglarond strike up a friendship and gossip about their lords! I’d also be interested in Gimli and Legolas visiting their original homes, meeting one another’s parents, and helping rebuild after the Battle of Dale / Fall of Dol Guldur.

I would also love to see an exploration of dwarf/elf relationships and the difficulties that would arise from that. Legolas’ father is a Sinda of Doriath who remembers the Battle of the Thousand Caves, and I headcanon that Gimli’s mother is descended from the dwarves of Nogrod who were involved in that debacle, so them coming to terms with that difficult history (and how that history differs) between their peoples would be really interesting.

Gildor Inglorion

...okay, so this is technically a Silm request dressed up as a LOTR request, but I would really love to see an exploration of Gildor’s origins! I have a few concepts for how he can be “of the House of Finarfin,” mostly relating to this Inglor figure who is his father. I think Inglor was either the son of Finrod and trans!Bëor (and thus the first peredhel) or the son of Aegnor and Andreth; either way, he was raised mostly by Finrod. But who is Inglor’s spouse/Gildor’s other parent? (Edrahil, maybe?) How did Gildor survive the Fall of Nargothrond, or was he born afterwards? Where did he live in the Third Age? Who was awaiting him when he arrived in Aman?

Took Fairy Wife

I think this concept is fascinating, and I’d love to hear the story of a hobbit/elf romance! Perhaps Pippin or Frodo tell this story to the Fellowship? I also have the headcanon that since Durin I “woke alone,” his spouse was also an elf, so maybe Gimli could throw in that legend as well.

Group: Last Prince of Cardolan/Lady of the Blue Brooch Suggested worldbuilding tags: Barrow-downs and Barrow-wights, Necromancy and Hauntings, Sentient Weapons & Jewelry

I’ve recently become a little bit obsessed with the concept of the Last Prince and the Lady of the Blue Brooch being star-crossed lovers. We have conflicting accounts of the Last Prince’s demise, and I’d love to see those reconciled into one story; we also know that the Prince was buried in the barrow-downs, where the Lady’s blue brooch was found. How did that end up there - was it a token she gave to him before his death? Did she visit his grave after it was too late? How did Tom and Goldberry know her? Maybe they are the ones to tell this story to some hobbitish traveler through the Old Forest... I do have my own version of this story, if you’d like to borrow some ideas from there, but feel free to make up your own thing too!

Group: Eldarion/Elboron

I just think they’re cute :) I like the idea that Eldarion’s heir is not his own child, but the child of one of his sisters, and that Elboron had a sister who was the parent of Barahir of Ithilien, so these two can be gay together. Of course, you could also make one of them trans and have Eldarion’s heir and Barahir be siblings! Or you can explore the beginnings of their relationship - just a cute get-together story would be wonderful.

Worldbuilding: Arwen reforged Narsil

This is such a neat concept - I would love to see Fëanorian Arwen (bc Kidnap Dads) going full smith mode and personally reforging Narsil into Andúril for her boyfriend. Arwen embracing her dual kinship as both the descendant of Lúthien and the descendant of Maedhros and Maglor would be amazing (especially if Maglor is hanging around in Rivendell). Bonus points if Narsil used to be Maedhros’ sword, and that’s how it got passed down to Elros!

~~~

Hobbit Movies Request

Kiliel tags: Fíli, Kíli, Tauriel, Group: Fíli & Kíli, Group: Kíli/Tauriel, Group: Kíli/Tauriel & Fíli Suggested worldbuilding tags: Almost Everyone Lives AU, Kíli's Runestone, Worldbuilding: Tauriel goes to Erebor AU

I’m a basic bitch when it comes to Kiliel stuff: give me fluff, give me angst with a mostly-happy ending, give me Fíli being exasperated by his brother’s romantic drama! I would be interested in an AU where Thorin dies but Fíli and Kíli survive, and King Fíli has to deal with Kíli’s love life causing political problems; I’d also love to see an AU where Tauriel goes to Erebor with Kíli, Fíli, Bofur, and Óin after the lakeshore scene. And anything surrounding the magic of Kíli’s runestone would be very welcome - perhaps it really was cursed/enchanted, and by giving it to Tauriel, Kíli lost the protection Dís had placed upon him and passed it to her. What if Tauriel had returned it before the end - would Kíli have lived, and she died? Or, in a canon scenario (in this case, full angst is welcome) what if Tauriel and Dís met and talked about the stone and its properties?

Hilda Bianca

I just think she’s neat. I’d love to see her getting involved in the politics of a rebuilt Dale, either collaborating with or causing problems for Bard. Her being a mentor figure for Sigrid and Tilda would also be great.

~~~

Book of Lost Tales Request

Group: Ómar & Salmar

Ómar Amillo and Salmar Lirillo were brothers in early stages of the Legendarium - I would love to see that explored in a more Slim-compliant verse, where they are both Maiar. Ómar could be a Maia of Ulmo, like Salmar is, or a Maia of some other Vala. Music and water are intrinsically connected in Arda’s makeup, so Ómar as a being of song and Salmar as a being of water would be really cool to see explored somehow!

Meril-i-Turinqi

Another really neat character!! I headcanon that she is the child of a grandson of Olwë and a granddaughter of Ingwë. How did she rise to power on Tol Eressëa? What are her relationships with her great-grandfathers? Is she friends with other influential elf-women - perhaps Elenwë or Amárië or Galadriel?

~~~

Silm Requests Russingon Request

Russingon tags: Maedhros, Fingon, Group: Fingon/Maedhros, Original Character from Himring, Group: Fingon/Finrod/Maedhros Suggested worldbuilding tags: Elven Gender Constructs, Hair and customs/kinks around it, LaCE as a social construct, Melotorni & Meletheldi, Onnalúmë

Russingon is my OTP, I just love them a lot!! I adore both plot-heavy explorations of their characters and relationship and more slice-of-life fluff/angst/porn stuff without any particular story behind it. If I need comfort fic this pairing is my go-to, and I’d love to have more of that to come back to. PWP would be welcome; plot is also excellent and I’m sure to enjoy that too. I’m always a sucker for falling in love / confessions of love / first times, but ESPECIALLY for Russingon; the beginning of their love story is something I’ll never get tired of. Established relationship, reunions (after the Ice/Angband or after time spent apart in Hithlum/Himring or after leaving the Halls or another scenario) are also amazing. The secret relationship aspect of this ship is very fun, both keeping things secret and having their secret come to light. If you wanted to invert that trope, though, I would definitely enjoy that; something like a fake dating AU or an arranged marriage AU or a situation where they get pregnant and have to tell people. It would also be great to see them trying (and failing) to keep their relationship a secret while they are in Beleriand - outsider POV from a resident of Himring would be great here! I like scenarios where they’re married, and I like scenarios where they’re not married, whichever floats your boat will be excellent. Honestly, I’m likely to enjoy almost any Russingon content you write; I just… *clenches fist* love them… If you wanted to explore a queerplatonic interpretation of them that would be really cool, but I do love love love romantic/sexual Russingon and would be overjoyed to have any content about them! In my DNW I mentioned that I don’t like the concept of soulmates (for Aro Reasons) so please steer clear of that, but having Mae and Finno choose each other over and over again and that affecting their soul bond/mental connection might just bring me to tears ;-;

I adore Fingon on his own - he’s brave and valiant and good-hearted and deserved better ;-; If you wanted to write a Fingon-focused story that touches on his time as a prince or a king or adjusting to re-embodied life in Valinor or his relationships with people other than Maedhros, I am sure to love that.

Maedhros is probably my favorite character in the Silm. I love his character arc, the fire symbolism, his trauma and recovery, his relationship with his brothers and his cousins, his time helping Maglor care for Elrond and Elros - really all of his story. For this exchange I’d rather not receive a fic focused on his time in Angband or his death; I can enjoy fics about that, but I’m looking for something a bit happier here. Art of Maedhros in those situations would be okay.

When it comes to throwing Finrod into the mix with Russingon, what I’m really looking for is some smut, tbh. Maedhros and Fingon are ridiculously in love, and Finrod is a bit of a hoe, and I can’t believe there wasn’t at least one time they had a threesome. Finrod getting fucked by both of them at once would be excellent. Finrod is canonically friendly with the Fëanorians in Beleriand and goes hunting with Maglor and Maedhros, maybe this is a time where it’s Fingon instead of Maglor and they fuck in the woods, or Maedhros and Fingon visit Nargothrond, or Maedhros and Finrod visit Barad Eithel, or Fingon and Finrod visit Himring. Is this a planned encounter? Something spontaneous? Is Finrod seducing them both, or are they inviting him in? Did Maedhros and Finrod have a fling in Valinor, or did Finrod and Fingon find comfort together on the Ice, or both? I’d love to see where you take this!

When it comes to the worldbuilding tags, I’d love to see an exploration of gender and sexuality in relation to Russingon. I adore trans depictions of both Maedhros and Fingon, so that would be extremely welcome - you can also explore how elvish gender concepts differ from our understanding of gender and transness (I mused about that a bit in this post, along with thoughts on elvish naming traditions, if you’re looking for inspiration). LaCE is such a tricky topic, and I would definitely be interested in Mae and Finno experimenting sexually and discovering what is and isn’t biological about those concepts, and what is actually a cultural construct the elves have adhered to over time. Hair customs (what braids mean, hair coverings, etc) are really interesting - and a GREAT opportunity to include some hair kink! I mean, Finno has those gold braids and Mae’s name “Russandol” refers to his hair, I bet they are into each other’s hair.

Regarding the concept of melotorni, I can easily see that as either gay-coding or queerplatonic love; I’d love to see either or both those options explored with Russingon. (As for meletheldi, I mean, if you wanted to make them girls I would be super down for that too. I’m okay with genderbending, though I do prefer trans/nb headcanons, and I definitely don’t want them genderbent to be “straight.”) And as for Onnalúmë - well, that’s just heat fic, isn’t it? ;)

The bottom line for Russingon is that I Love Them and they love each other, and for this request I’d love PWP, fluff, hurt/comfort, falling in love, getting together, reunion, established relationship - really almost anything with them would absolutely make my day!

Russingon & kids tags: Gil-galad, Erien, Group: Erien & Gil-galad, Group: Fingon/Maedhros & Erien, Group: Fingon/Maedhros & Erien & Gil-galad, Group: Fingon/Maedhros & Gil-galad, Group: Erien & Faniel Suggested worldbuilding tags: Elven Naming Traditions, improbable parentages for Gil-Galad

The only thing I love more than Russingon is Russingon with KIDS!! I’m a sucker for Russingon as the fathers of Gil-galad, and recently I’ve decided to adopt Erien, a discarded daughter of Fingon, into my personal canon as a Russingon daughter. Exploring either Gil or Erien’s relationship with their dads would be wonderful - and, if they exist in the same universe, their relationship with each other!! (I recently wrote a novel-length fic about Erien being Tauriel, if you’d like to borrow some concepts from there, but that’s certainly not my “usual” interpretation of either of them so feel free to make up your own Erien origin story too!) I was very excited to see that someone else nominated an Erien relationship - Erien and Faniel is a great concept! I usually headcanon Faniel as the daughter of Findis and Elemmírë and the younger sister of Glorfindel, but if you have a different origin story for her that would be really neat as well. Discarded Finwëan daughters ftw! Russingon having kids would be a great place to explore elven naming traditions, how gay elves would name their kids (two father-names??), and maybe the Fëanorian tradition of -finwë names :p I definitely selected the “improbable parentages for Gil-galad” with trans!Russingon in mind, but if you’ve got another situation (that one fic where Finrod, Fingon, and Maedhros do Weird Science with a Maia comes to mind...), be my guest.

Kidnap Dads tags: Elrond, Group: Elrond & Elros, Group: Elrond & Gil-galad, Group: Maglor & Maedhros & Elrond & Elros Suggested worldbuilding tags: Choice of the Peredhil

I threw in Kidnap Dads into this request as well :) I firmly believe this relationship was, in the end, mostly a positive one despite the rocky beginning - I don’t want to see E&E hating M&M, and I also don’t want to see them resenting their birth parents either (however, their bio parents interacting with their foster parents in awkward/humorous situations would be great). Fluff would be wonderful, but some post-WoW angst would be welcome as well. Elrond and Gil-galad Russingonion considering each other brothers because of their shared father Maedhros is a favorite headcanon of mine! I really would love to see a focus on Maedhros and the E twins; Maglor can of course be involved, but I’m more interested in Maedhros as a character.

Some possible scenarios: an official adoption ceremony, cultural differences, M&M giving E&E some more names / teaching them Quenya, sharing traditions, Maedhros teaching the twins some skill (cooking? swordfighting? embroidery?), the twins being Weird (either because they’re part human or part Maia) and M&M learning to deal with that, Elrond reuniting with Maedhros in Valinor, Elrond getting adopted by M&M’s spouses (Maglor’s spouse and/or Fingon), AU where Maedhros lives and is around for E&E’s later lives

Exploring the Choice of the Peredhil would also be great. How did being raised with M&M affect E&E’s decisions when it came to their Choices of kindred? Were there any Men in the remnants of the Fëanorian host, and did that affect their Choices?

And since this is technically under the umbrella of the Russingon request, of course Maedhros telling E&E about his husband would be amazing. (And quite probably heartbreaking, too...)

~~~

Maeglin Request

Reminder that I am not at all interested in irredeemable/evil Maeglin; I am a known Maeglin sympathizer and I will not apologize for that.

Maeglin & Fëanorians tags: Maeglin, Group: Dwarves & Maeglin, Group: Caranthir & Dwarves & Maeglin, Group: Maeglin & Fëanorians Suggested worldbuilding tags: Cross-Species Mentorships, Differences between Dwarf craft and Elf craft, Elven magic and art and technology, Maeglin Adopted by Fëanorians AU

I would adore an AU where Maeglin is adopted by the Fëanorians!! Maybe Maeglin escapes to Himring instead of Gondolin after his capture, and Maedhros helps him deal with Angband trauma? (I know that doesn’t really make sense timeline wise, you figure out the details, lmao. Maybe it’s actually taking place in Ossiriand, idk, or the timelines get moved around.) Otherwise, I’d love to see a younger Maeglin interacting with the Three Cs and dwarves!! A focus on craft and smithing would be wonderful, in that scenario.

Maeglin in Gondolin tags: Turgon, Group: Anairë & Maeglin, Group: Fingolfin & Maeglin, Group: Eärendil & Maeglin, Group: Idril & Maeglin, Group: Idril/Maeglin/Tuor, Group: Maeglin & Rôg Suggested worldbuilding tags: Metal Dragons

I think Maeglin’s relationship with emotionally repressed Turgon was difficult because of miscommunication, but they did love and care for one another. A version of events where Idril and Maeglin were friends before she found out about his feelings for her, or where they can work through that, would be really interesting to read. I love the idea of Maeglin begrudgingly coming to love Eärendil even though he’s Tuor’s child; I think that Eärendil’s mithril coat was made by Maeglin as a precaution against himself and the curse Morgoth placed upon him (I also think this is the origin of Bilbo’s mithril coat). Rôg is usually depicted as an Angband escapee; him noticing something wrong with Maeglin and figuring out about his capture would be a great story. Idril/Maeglin/Tuor is a great concept, especially Maeglin being upset about Idril and Tuor’s marriage because he’s in love with both of them - a threesome where finally gets what he wants (and some consensual rough treatment??) would be excellent. Also, some post-reembodiment fic where Maeglin gets to meet his grandparents would be amazing!! As for the metal dragons, some focus on Maeglin’s craft combined with the magics of Sauron and Morgoth would be really interesting. I would prefer if it Maeglin’s time in Angband was Pretty Bad (though I’d rather not have torture depicted on the page), and show him struggling with the excitement of being able to bring these incredible creations to life versus the knowledge that Sauron and Morogth can and will abuse him to get what they want. I’m not particularly interested in a sympathetic portrayal of Sauron and Morgoth.

Maeglin, Túrin, and Tyelpë tags: Túrin, Group: Celebrimbor/Maeglin, Group: Turin & Anglachel, Group: Maeglin & Anguirel, Group: Maeglin/Túrin Suggested worldbuilding tags: Bedazzling as a love language, Celebrimbor forging Gurthang, Sentient Weapons & Jewelry

OKAY so Maeglin/Turin is my rarepair OTP and I would absolutely die of happiness if you wrote this ship! For this request I’m envisioning a scenario where Maeglin goes to Nargothrond and that’s where he encounters Túrin. I’m also interested in Maeglin/Tyelpe, so throwing him into the mix would be fabulous. One of my favorite aspects of this ship is Maeglin and Túrin’s connections to Anguirel and Anglachel, so having them bond over that (maybe a literal bond...like a soul bond or something???? enforced by the semi-sentient swords??) would be excellent. I definitely believe Celebrimbor was the one to reforge Anglachel into Gurthang, so that could be a way of getting him involved. (Him ~bedazzling~ the sword as a way of flirting with Túrin would be hilarious; or just smiths bedazzling their creations to impress each other in general, lmao.) It’s also quite likely that in this scenario that Maeglin arrived in Nargothrond with Celegorm, Curufin, and Celebrimbor (and possibly Aredhel, though I was kind of envisioning her as dead in this scenario, RIP - or otherwise not present, much like how C&C have been banished by the time Túrin shows up), so he would have a preexisting relationship with Tyelpë. Maybe they broke up? Maybe they’re awkwardly pining and Túrin is what brings them together? Or some other situation. This ship is doomed no matter how you twist it, and so digging into the dramatic irony of it all would be delicious; happy endings are optional for this request.

Maeglin & Aredhel in Himlad & Nargothrond tags: Aredhel, Group: Aredhel & Oromë, Group: Celegorm/Aredhel & Maeglin & Curufin & Celebrimbor, Group: Curufin/Finrod & Celebrimbor Suggested worldbuilding tags: Aredhel and Maeglin Remain in Himlad, Aromantic Aredhel

This is kind of similar to the previous request, but with a focus on Aredhel, Celegorm, and Curufin as well as Maeglin and Celebrimbor. I would love an AU where Maeglin and Aredhel go to Himlad instead of Gondolin, and eventually end up in Nargothrond - I really can’t get enough of this concept! What happens with Eöl; does Curufin actually kinslay him this time? How do Maeglin and Tyelpë get along? My Aredhel is always aromantic, but I do ship her and Celegorm as FWB (though maybe Celegorm’s caught feelings somewhere along the line...) - how does Maeglin feel about her rekindling that relationship? I’d definitely be interested in a story about Celebrimbor being a Curufinrod baby (trans!Curvo ftw), so that would make returning to Nargothrond extra tense and emotional. As for Aredhel and Oromë, I have this headcanon that Anairë gave all her children Valar-related mother-names, and that Aredhel was named Írissë Aldarindë after Oromë Aldaron. How does she feel about that name and her connection to Oromë? I don’t think she ever actually joined his Hunt like Celegorm did; why is that? Did Celegorm discourage because he’d adopted his father’s anti-Valar sentiment and left the Hunt? Did she just get involved too late, and then the Darkening happened? How do her and Celegorm’s relationships with their patron Vala differ in Beleriand? I think they were both Kinslayers at Alqualondë, but Celegorm is bound by the Oath and Aredhel isn’t - how does that affect things? Can Aredhel and Maeglin’s presence change how Finrod’s demise goes down? All sorts of fascinating things you could explore!

~~~

Misc. Silm Request

Cuiviénen tags: Original Awakened Elf of Cuiviénen (Silm) Suggested worldbuilding tags: In-universe Origins of LaCE, LaCE as a Horror Concept, LaCE as a social construct, LaCE-compliant soulbonding, Non-romantic/sexual Soul Bonds

I’d love to see an exploration of how LaCE came to be, which parts of the rules around marriage and children and re-embodiment are social constructs and which are innate to the fëa and hröa, and/or relationships that defy the norms. If your take on the laws is hetero/cisnormative, how does that affect queer elves? If your take is free of bigotry, what are the flexibilities around queerness, including asexuality and aromanticism? Laws and customs and rules always have loopholes and exceptions, so what do elves who don’t fit into the expected relationship mold do about these norms?

How do soul bonds work on a metaphysical level? Can they be broken? Do they have to be nurtured and maintained? What’s long-distance communication like? Heck, what’s short-distance communication like, is it like talking in your mind or sharing your feelings or more abstract than that? Can elves form soul bonds with mortals? And most importantly—how did elves figure out they could soul bond with one another?? I can imagine that would be quite a shock when they’re discovering sex and then suddenly they’re inside each other’s minds! This could easily be tied into the “LaCE as Horror” tag; especially if the characters were not expecting it or the bond was being abused. (If you do decide to explore abuse, I would prefer you use OCs rather than canon characters, unless you want to write Eöl abusing Aredhel or Sauron abusing Celebrimbor. In any case, please be careful with that kind of relationship, I am quite sensitive to abuse in fiction even if I am interested in this subject.)

For non-romantic and/or non-sexual soul bonds: Explore sibling bonds, twin bonds, parent-child bonds, queerplatonic bonds, found family bonds, adoption bonds, the bond between a Vala and their Maia…any kind of soul bond that is familial or platonic or chosen without regard to romance! (Feel free to take a canon romantic relationship and turn it queerplatonic, I live for that shit!) How are these bonds formed outside of sex? What are the rituals and ceremonies around forming them? Is it a public or private thing? Are non-romantic soul bonds taken seriously, or are they seen as less important than marriage bonds? Since elven parents literally give part of their soul in the creation of the child, is that parent-child bond innate? What are traditions around elven adoption? Are there soul bonds created between the adoptive parents and children? Was adoption even a thing in Aman, or is it only practiced in Middle-earth? Did elves adopt mortals and vice versa? Is adoption extended to found family other than a parent-child situation? How is adoption viewed by elvish society, especially if inheritance/succession is a concern?

Turgoldo tags: Group: Finrod/Turgon, Group: Mariners send by Turgon to Aman Suggested worldbuilding tags: Songs of Power

This is my rarepair to end all rarepairs tbh. I honestly don’t know why these two are not shipped more! I am desperate for any and all content with them, I am not picky at all, I just love them.

Fun times in Aman before things get dark and serious would be lovely, I think in that context their relationship would be more casual (or at least they’re trying to make it casual and that leads to hurt feelings). I’d rather not focus on their relationships with their canon love interests, mostly because I’m not a fan of stories about jealousy (also because I see both Finrod and Amarië as gay and together mostly for convenience’s sake AND/OR they’re in a queerplatonic relationship, not a romantic/sexual one), but I do ship Elenwë/Amarië so those two having some sort of polyamorous arrangement with Finrod and Turgon could be fun. But feel free to just ignore any of that and depict Finrod and Turgon together without their respective ladies!

If you go into Beleriand times, I like: Turgon grieving Elenwë and finding solace with Finrod; whatever went down that night by the river they never wanted to talk about again; helping each other build their hidden kingdoms; Finrod sneaking into Gondolin maybe??; repressed Turgon being angsty about discovering his bisexuality and Finrod either helping him or making things more complicated; Finrod missing Turgon and trying to distract himself in Nargothrond (maybe in combination with another Finrod ship? honestly I ship Finrod with any dude that moves, feel free to put your own spin on his relationships, though I would prefer a focus on Turgon/Finrod for this request). Post-reembodiment scenarios would also be great.

Or maybe you want to do an AU with them! Supernatural creatures? Some other fantasy setting? A space opera? Honestly the only AU I wouldn’t be interested in is a modern AU, I’m very picky with my Silm Modern AUs. Honestly like I said earlier, I would love ANY content with Finrod and Turgon, you’d make me very happy if you depicted them together!! Feel free to ignore any of the stuff I said if you’ve got a better idea!!

Regarding the mariners sent to Aman: maybe Turgon is trying to pass a message along to a re-embodied Finrod along with the general cry for help to the Valar? And for “Songs of Power” I was thinking about Finrod’s rap battle with Sauron, and if there was any precedent for him being musically/magically powerful before then that Turgon could have witnessed.

Misc. worldbuilding tags: HoME/UT backstories and events that contradict the Silm, Dragons hunted for their leather, Ossiriand and the Laiquendi

I love incorporating other drafts of stories into the “main” version of the Silm! Please feel free to tweak early concepts to fit the later Legendarium, and definitely explain yourself in the author’s notes, I love that shit.

I can totally see dragons or adventurous Avari hunting dragons for their hides. You could also maybe explore this with the corpse of Smaug in the Long Lake; dwarves harvesting scales as a precious resource, or something?

In writing my recent Tauriel longfic I came to love the Laiquendi of Ossiriand. I’d love to see a nuanced exploration of their cultures - who were their leaders after Denethor? Were they really all nonviolent, or did some fight in self-defense or choose to join the Union of Maedhros? What was their relationship with the Fëanorians, both before and after the Nírnaeth? Do they consider themselves Avari? Do other elves consider them Avari?

~~~

Númenor Request

Early Númenor tags: Group: Elros/Elros's Wife (Silm)

Idk, I just think they’re cute. I have an OC for Elros’ wife that I love, and it would be awesome if you wrote something with her! Or you can use your own OC, whatever you’d like :)

Late Númenor tags: Group: Amandil & Ar-Pharazon & Tar-Míriel, Group: Inzilbêth & Tar-Míriel, Group: Míriel & Tar-Míriel, Group: Elwing & Tar-Míriel Suggested worldbuilding tags: Númenórean Settlements in Middle-earth, Peredhil Heritage in Numenor’s art & culture (Silm)

Amandil, Pharazôn, and Míriel’s childhood friendship is really interesting to me (especially if you throw in Elentír as well!). Would love to see how that dynamic changes over time, Pharazôn’s time conquering in Middle-earth, and their varying opinions about their heritage as the descendants of peredhil. I’m not really interested in portrayals of Pharazôn and Míriel’s relationship as healthy or even consensual; I’d rather you didn’t dwell too much on the abusive aspect, but even when I incorporate the story of Elentír I like to preserve the narrative present in the Silm where Pharazôn takes Míriel to wife against her will.

I never really thought much about Inzilbêth and Míriel, but now I definitely am! How does Míriel feel about her faithful grandmother? I see Míriel as not particularly faithful in the Valar, not like her father, but more politically against the King’s Men; does Inzilbêth try to instill faith into her granddaughter like she did her son?

I’m not sure how Míriel Þerindë or Elwing would interact with Tar-Míriel (perhaps Míriel Þerindë weaves her story? or they meet in Mandos before Tar-Míriel leaves to receive the Gift of Men? - maybe Elwing watches over her descendants from Eärendil’s ship, or flies to visit Númenor before its fall?) but I’m now interested in how that might happen, and what kinds of advice they would pass on to her. Also, if you go with Tar-Míriel and Míriel Þerindë, I’d love to see a silver-haired Tar-Míriel to mirror Þerindë! (also, “fairer than silver or ivory or pearls” makes a great image for a silver-haired Tar-Míriel)

Tar-Silmariën AU tags: Worldbuilding: Silmariën Becomes Queen of Númenor AU

GOSH everything would have been SO different if she had been able to rule! Would her descendants have been corrupted like her brother’s? Would Aldarion and Erendis’ marriage end so badly if he didn’t have the pressure of kingship? If the roles in the Amandil-Pharazôn-Míriel dynamic were reversed, how would that change things? Would Sauron get involved? There are SO many directions you could take this, I’d love to see any of them!

~~~

Alright, that’s the end of my prompts/requests! Thanks for reading this far, and whatever you end up writing for me I am super excited to read it!! And if you have questions or ideas or something, my askbox is open and I have anon messages on, I’d love to talk! Thank you again for creating for me, you are the best! <3

#is21 #exchange letter

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tanoraqui · 6 years

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I Meant To Get Further In The Story: the saga of every time I write something like this, why do I even kid myself.

[Prologue, 1, 2, 3 ]

Pike collects Scanlan, quietly this time, and they return to their hobbit-sized room, to fuss at the fire and worry. They don’t have much time to do either—Minxie follows them in, unseen until they’ve cast a little more light around the room. Scanlan jumps, and draws the sword he got from the Barrow-downs, from the old kings of the hills.

Pike lays a hand on his arm, though she does not step in his way.

“Peace,” says the ranger, and draws back her hood to reveal darkly tanned skin, just a shade paler than Gilmore’s, and grey-green eyes and hair like autumn leaves. She keeps her hands raised for another moment, showing them empty, though she does not seem overly concerned.

They talk a little. The ranger explains herself, a little. They do not have time to do more—soon enough, Laina knocks briskly and bustles in, and hands Pike a letter signed with a familiar runic G.

“I do apologize for the delay,” she says, wiping flour- and ale-stained hands on her similarly colored apron. “On just it was just one thing and another, you know? Well, tell me if you need anything else before bed!”

“An urgent matter has arisen,” reads the letter, and “move sooner than planned, alas—you ought be out of the Shire by the end of July, at the VERY latest.” (It was now several days into October.) And “You may meet a Ranger on the road, a friend of mine who goes by the name of ‘Minxie.’ Take her guidance and council well.”

“Hold on a minute,” says Scanlan, still placing himself between Pike and the stranger. “How do we know you’re the real ‘Minxie’ like Gilmore said? You could’ve killed her and stolen her clothes, for all we know.”

“Trust me,” the ranger says quietly. “If I had killed the original Minxie, and I wanted the…trinket you carry, you would be dead and I would have it—now!”

The hobbits leap back as she springs to her feet, cloak flung back, revealing a sword at her hip and a presence fit for battle. Her eyes flash with the firelight, and Scanlan nearly drops the short barrow-sword he does not know how to use.

Then she sits again, with a slight smile, cloak still open to reveal the blade she draws—broken, shattered just a couple inches below the hilt.

“No, I am the original. Minxie, also known as Keyleth, daughter of Vilya. And if by life or death I can save you, I will.”

(“Be sure it is the real Minxie,” says Gilmore’s postscript. “Her true name is Keyleth. All that is gold does not glitter Not all those who wander are lost…”*)

A pony is acquired. A journey is embarked. A terrifying attack in the night sees them off, rooms changed and bedstuff torn to shreds, with the piercing, bone-chilling cry of a Nazgul robbed of their prey.

They reach Weathertop, find a stone marked with three scratches and something like a G, and set up camp as night falls. Minxie sings a tale of heroes, of love in starlight, and at their backs the campfire is warm…but the darkness is cold. Is terribly cold. It reaches into Pike’s bones and steals her breath, especially when Minxie darts away into the shadows for more wood, as they are feeding the fire fast.

No sooner is she gone than there are shapes in the dark, five now, cloaked in black and advancing with cold steel.

Scanlan still doesn’t know how to use his sword, nor Pike her Sting, not really. The fire drops in the chill wind that accompanies the Ringwraiths, a wind that bears terror in its voice, and Pike runs before she can think. Her hand slips to her chest, toe the Ring on its chain, and she means to clutch it safe, she does, but instead her finger goes through as she yanks—

And stumbles, as the world turns pale, and colder yet. Yet there is light. Not enough to see Scanlan, a small, vague shape shouting in the distance. Quite enough to see the Black Riders, though they are not black in this moment. They are shrouded in dark grey, faceless, nearly formless, save that of ghostly armor and dark, bright eyes. And the one in the lead wears a crown upon her brow, and she reaches down for Pike with queenly grace—demanding, but welcoming, her blade for the moment lowered—

Another dark shape flings itself into the Witch-Queen’s side, far larger than Scanlan. Not Minxie either, though—that is the figure charging up the hill, red-burning torch in hand; she thrusts it like a sword at the Wraiths.

“Leave ‘er alone!” shouts a loud, rough voice. “She’s all tiny!”

The Witch-Queen shoves her assailant back with the strength of the undead, and flings her blade at Pike’s chest. Pike gathers her senses just in time, and rolls, and it hits her shoulder instead. It pierces like ice. Like the winter of legend when the wolves crossed the Brandywine, like a morning plunge into an snow-cold lake.

Pike takes off the Ring.

“Hey,” says an orc, grinning at her with tusks tipped with blood, as the Witch-Queen turns her horse and leaves. “You’re a Trickfoot, right? I been looking for Trickfoots.”

“Trickfeet,” Pike says faintly, on a very, very old reflex. She cannot feel her shoulder. Elsewhere, the other Riders retreat from Minxie’s flames, and Scanlan’s new, smaller torch. They follow their leader’s call.

The orc furrows his brow, clearly thinking hard. “Is that the same thing? The guy I know was Wilhand Trickfoot. Like, one foot. He’s the hobbit I know.”

“Wait.” Pike props herself up on the elbow that she could still feel, that doesn’t seem to be engulfed in ice. “Are you Grog?”

Cursed blades, and some explanation thereof. A very hasty, and then longer, elaboration on that oft-befuddled chapter of a previous tale, on how Wilhand Trickfoot lost his dwarves, found a young orc, and ended up escaping a mountain with him. (The simultaneous realization, on the parts of Pike, Scanlan, and Minxie, that Grog truly believes invisibility to be a natural ability of hobbits.)

Athelas. But even in the hands of a skilled healer, he ancient herb has limits. A shard of the Witch-Queen’s blade is such a limit. It is not long before Pike is being carried rather than walking, by Grog or the pony. They take turns. The Ring stays around her neck, bound once more on its chain, but the world fades anyway, in her mind’s eye. The fog seeps in, and at its heels the chill, so she thinks she will not be warm again.

When two elves ride down the road to meet them, Pike thinks she might be dreaming. For one thing, it is twilight, and the fog that is not there is thick, and she does not see them until well after Minxie gives a glad cry and races ahead. For another, one of them is riding a bear.

She is also holding an arrow nocked at Grog’s head. Pike pushes herself up from his arms to wave that no, no, he’s a friend. Tusks and all.

The Riders come, now the full Nine, their Queen at their head.

“Trinket, get her to safety!” shouts the archer—Vax? Vix? Pike is so cold she feels warm, and cannot keep their names straight. She does not fall off the bear’s back even as he lurches into motion, even as he barrels through four of the Nine who converge on them from ahead, in ambush. Even as they ford the river and it rises at Trinket’s heels, and he turns back with a wild roar at the Riders follow. Pike sees them clearly now: the queen in her crown, the lieutenant-king with his black sword, the rest, royalty all, less mighty but their laughter no less cruel. Pike brandishes her sword, swaying.

But the river is rising in waves of chargåing white horses, and behind them are shadows holding red flames, and two figures of white light, and the shrouded ones are overturned and the mists rise with the waves. Their crashing roar fills the air, fills everything…

And for a while, Pike knows no more.

* I thought, for a moment, that I should attempt to write my own poem for Keyleth. But, like, how could I possibly be better than this one. Just in general.

#lotr #critical role #my fic #pike trickfoot #scanlan shorthalt #grog strongjaw #keyleth #fanfiction #caedes caelifer #monstrum lucis #nah not gonna tag the twins yet

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tarantula-hawk-wasp · 7 years

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Tolkien Ambience Rec Post for all your studying and writing mood needs

This site has hundreds of ambience mixes and I looked through their lotr/hobbit section (7 pages and approx 350 mixes) and listened to most of them to make a list of ones that I felt offered the most quality immersive feeling.

- I picked ones without music from the soundtrack, and without noises i found too distracting to have on as background.

- I looked for mixes that made it feel like you were in the setting, rather than mixes that recaptured the vibe of the movie scenes of that setting (if that makes sense (like you’re in the shire not watching the scenes about the shire))

- I also reccomend adjusting the levers to your liking (I often made the harp noises more quiet in rivendell ones bc go away lindir im trying to write)

- I hope someone else enjoys this

((I tried not to be too biased towards settings I favor and listen to an assortment. There are more on the site if you’re looking for something not on the list))

If this inspires anyone to make a lotr ambience thing hmu if u do

**Ones I think have the most truly authentic ambience are starred**

Shire

(there are more hyperspecific bag-end moods if you’re really picky)

Bilbo’s Long-Expected Party

Bilbo’s Party

Spring in the Shire, writing beneath a tree

The Old Forest

Farm life in the shire

life in hobbiton

Friendly Night at the Green Dragon

Morning in the Shire

Rainy houseparty in the shire

Prancing Pony Inn

Fangorn Forest

sounds of fangorn forest

**Entmoot**

Night watch at Fangorn

Rivendell (many of these have harp or angel sounds that I recommend lowering the volume of for a subtler ambiance)

Stormy NIght in Imladris

Sounds from a residence near the armory

Rivendell Quiet Study

Imladris Library

Hall of Fire on a Stormy night

Lothlorien

Evening in Caras Galadhon

In the Naith

Private Room in Lothlorien

MIrkwood

MIrkwood’s Grand Hall with approaching storm

A Room in Mirkwood

darkness invades mirkwood

Dwarves

Dwarven City

Dwarf MIne

Feast in Erebor

**Traveling with the company**

Gondor

**In the Market of MInas TIrith**

Minas Tirith

**Battle of Pelennor Fields**

Rohan

Stables of Edoras (with humming)

Stables of Edoras (no humming)

gloomy Winter Night in Edoras

morning in rohan

Quiet Edoras

The Golden Hall of Meduseld

Evil

**In the Fortress of Angband **

Angband

**Walking to Mordor **

A Knife In The Dark/Ringwraith

Dragon burning a town

Evil Fortress

Fog on the Barrow-Downs

Lair of Smaug

Isengard

Dol Guldur

Other

Grey Havens

Mithlond Harbour

Alqualonde havens

**Gollum’s Cave**

The Company at Beorn’s

Beorn’s Hall

Esgaroth/Laketown

**Crossing the Helcaraxe**

Shore of Valinor

Cheerful Ranger Gathering

Dead Marshes

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #the hobbit #the silmarillion #rivendell #the shire #gondor #rohan #erebor #angband #ambience #this took like five hours to go through all of these

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darnloveablecharacters · 7 years

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Prove Me Wrong, Part Three: Lost

Series Summary: Caithwistë, born from the only known pairing of an elf and a dwarf has spent most of her life in hiding. When an old friend, (or a certain meddling wizard) finds her in the woods, everything changes. Now, she will have the chance to prove the world wrong about her value. A ‘The Hobbit’ fanfiction based off of the following imagines from @imaginexhobbit: This One is the basis of the story, and This One and This One will be added in later. If you recognize it, it belongs to Professor Tolkien or Peter Jackson. But, as usual, the story and all of the mistakes are my own!

Prove Me Wrong - Masterlist

Chapter Notes: I wrote so many versions of this chapter it’s kind of ridiculous. But, I’m really happy with this one! I’m glad I didn’t post the first few, because once I finally settled on this idea it just flowed so much better than the previous versions. I hope y’all like my choice :-) It gave me the perfect opportunity to bring this prompt in! Plus, I got to do a small tribute to Tom Bombadil who just seems to have been forgotten along the way. (Even though he isn’t mentioned by name) The song is actually from the Lord of the Rings books though.

Warnings for this chapter: little bit of violence

Nearly nine months had passed since the night Caithwistë had dined with Mithrandir and Thorin. In that time, she had moved west and had been living in the Old Forest. When she had first arrived though, the trees had been hostile toward her, eventually driving her south toward the Barrow Downs where she was attacked by a cloaked figure with skeletal hands and eerily glowing eyes. Feeling ill, she had managed to put two arrows in the creature, but it continued to advance on her until a voice boomed through the trees.

Get out, you old wight! Vanish in the sunlight!

Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,

Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains!

Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty!

Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,

Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.

The voice belonged to an old man in a bright blue jacket and yellow boots. By the time he had finished his song, the creature had vanished and her illness instantly faded. He had sent her back on her way after assuring she was safe, but with a warning to stay away from the Barrow Downs as well as the center of the forest.

She smiled as she thought of the strange old man while she pulled a rabbit from a snare. He was odd, and spoke mostly by singing, but since their meeting the trees seemed to be less angry with her. They only met on one other occasion, and that time he had taught her how to become friends with the forest.

Heeding his advice, she took great care to only use what was already fallen and dead to make fires for her meals, and before sleeping she would sing the trees a lullaby that her mother had taught her. However, with the uneasy peace she had made with the forest, it made it that much more unsettling when they started to sway menacingly as her small rabbit cooked.

She sat still and listened. Above the warning of the trees, she could hear soft footsteps creeping behind her. She tensed as she realized how close they were and she turned, swinging her right fist, and hit the intruder directly in the jaw. She watched in shock as the offending raven-haired dwarf fell to the ground with a grunt.

“Thorin?” She gasped in surprise. It was him, but there were silver streaks blending into his dark hair that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Caithwistë.” He acknowledged. He sat up, groaning, and rubbed his jaw.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, glancing up at the trees in fear.

He looked at her in shock, as if his intentions had never been questioned before. “Apologies, my lady. I did not mean to startle you. Perhaps I should have coughed before approaching.”

She glared down at him, unhappy with his evasion. “I asked, why are you here?”

He stood slowly with his arms raised, as if he were trying to calm a wary predator. Once he was on his feet, his eyes moved down, taking in her un-cloaked appearance. She was shorter than he was. Petite, some may say, with fair skin and piercing blue eyes that matched his own. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a tight braid, revealing her pointed ears. “You’re a hobbit?” He asked, avoiding her question again.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and simply nodded.

“You’re a bit tall for a hobbit.” He mused.

“I’ve heard that before.” She said. She felt some of her tension ease, though she was still worried that the trees may lash out in their anger. “You shouldn’t be here. This place isn’t safe.” She said quietly.

“I am on my way to the shire.” He said, glancing down. He was suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “You’re a bit too far South.”

He glared at the ground and simply nodded.

She watched him for a moment in silence, waiting for further explanation. When none came, her eyes widened slightly in shock as the truth dawned on her. “You’re lost?”

His expression was pained as he silently nodded again.

She was surprised at the amount of sympathy she felt toward the dwarf-lord in that moment. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about Master Dwarf.” He finally met her eyes again as she spoke. “This forest can be deceptive, and the trees don’t help much.” She said this looking up at the still swaying trees.

She glanced back at Thorin, who was glaring at the ground again.

“Oh.” She said. She bit her bottom lip, suddenly fighting off a grin. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been lost?”

Thorin looked as if he wished he could have been anywhere else as he slowly shook his head.

Another moment of stunned silence, then his head snapped up as she suddenly burst into laughter. Between fits of giggles, and with eyes full of tears, she managed to choke out a weak apology.

He tried to continue glaring at her, but eventually his expression softened and she was rewarded with a bashful smile.

“Come then, Master Dwarf.” She said when she had finally managed to stop giggling. “Join me in my feast and I shall help you find your way.” She gestured to the small rabbit that was still roasting over the fire.

He glanced at the rabbit, then back to Caithwistë with a warm expression. “Thank you, my lady.” He said, bowing deeply.

They finished the meal quickly, and after gathering her few belongings they traveled North to the edge of the forest. They walked in a comfortable silence at Caithwistë’s recommendation. She did not want to disturb the trees as she could still feel their hatred toward Thorin, the intruder. It did not take long before they reached the edge of the forest and the road was in sight.

Thorin listened intently as Caithwistë gave him directions to the Shire. When she was finished, he bowed again. “Thank you, my lady.”

“It was no trouble at all Master Dwarf. I’m happy that I could assist you.” She said cheerfully.

He looked at her questioningly, then suddenly looked as if he had come to a decision. “It seems as if the wizard may have been right about you.”

She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling too exposed. “What do you mean?”

He gave her an appraising look, then walked around her as he spoke. “I can see that you’re strong.” She tensed, but forced herself to remain still as he moved around her. “It’s clear that you have managed to survive on your own in the wild for quite some time now.” He was behind her now, and it took every ounce of strength that she possessed to not turn so he was in her sight. “But, you have no trust for others.” He was almost complete with his circuit. “So, while the wizard may not have exaggerated your abilities, I don’t believe it would be wise for you to join my company.” He stopped in front of her and clasped his hands behind his back, observing her quietly.

She laughed humorlessly, filling the tense silence. “And my statement that ‘I want no part of this’ wasn’t enough to convince you of that?”

He smirked and leaned close to her, whispering his challenge. “Prove me wrong.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her stunned.

She watched him walk away for a moment, before suddenly giggling. “The Shire is in the other direction.” She called out, stopping Thorin in his tracks. She heard him sigh as he looked down again in frustration.

She glanced back at the Old Forest, weighing her options. It shocked her how easily the decision had come to her, and she said a silent goodbye to the trees and the strange old man in the South before walking toward Thorin. “It seems as if you have left me no choice, Master Dwarf.” He turned to her, the frustration still clear on his face. “Since you seem so intent on getting lost, it would be impolite of me to allow you to wander alone.”

Thorin glared at her again as she stood in front of him, shaking from her attempts to restrain her laughter. Once again, he couldn’t hold the glare and broke into a wide grin. “Lead the way then, tracker.”

Caithwistë turned on her heel cheerfully and he fell into step beside her, walking in the right direction.

#the hobbit imagine #the hobbit #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield #thorin x ofc

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garden-ghoul · 7 years

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fellowship of the bloggening, part 3

“apple cider vinegar makes a pretty good substitute for lemon juice if you add enough sugar! I used it to make ginger tea.”

We rejoin our heroes as they are about to eat dinner

IN THE HOUSE OF TOM BOMBADIL

... we meet Goldberry, “the river’s daughter.” For some reason the floor is mostly covered in bowls full of waterlilies, which is honestly the aesthetic I want for my house. You can’t actually walk anywhere because the entire floor is a pool full of lilies. Goldberry is a nice witch. She can also tell just by looking at Frodo and listening to him speak that he is an elf-friend, which raises some questions about what exactly that entails... is he marked somehow? Or are those just characteristics that often lead people to be friendly with elves? WHAT DID THE ELVES DO TO HIM?

Goldberry also tells them that

‘The trees and the grasses and all things growing or living in the land belong each to themselves. Tom Bombadil is the Master. No one has ever caught old Tom walking in the forest, wading in the water, leaping on the hill-tops under light and shadow. He has no fear. Tom Bombadil is master.’

THAT’S NOT OMINOUS AT ALL. Also, when he comes back, he has exactly enough beds and like, guest slippers, prepared for each of them, which is only more suspicious. Then he says he “heard news of them” (??? from where???) and repeatedly tells them to “heed no nightly noise.” I feel like he’s going to eat and/or enchant them. And indeed, three of the hobbits have nightmares brought on by strange noises (later Tom Bombadil seems to know exactly what they dreamed. frightening??). Sam doesn’t, presumably because Servants Aren’t People. He’s too stupid to be afraid. >::( whatever! Being stupid is cool and good, I only like stupid people. I appreciate Sam.

Today is “Goldberry’s washing day,” which means that it’s foggy and wet. I LOVE weather phenomena being attributed to mythical figures doing mundane chores, doubly so if it’s actually literally true. Anyway Tom Bombadil tells the hobbits stories the entire day, or maybe for much longer than a day. Because he’s a FAERIE and I DON’T TRUST HIM. They are enchanted as hell.

‘Tom was here before the river and the trees; Tom remembers the first raindrop and the first acorn... When the Elves passed westward, Tom was here already, before the seas were bent. He knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.’

What the fuck. Aside from the assertion that he was here before trees and rain existed, he COULD technically be a Sindar. But it sounds more like he was an overeager maia who ran into the level creator before anyone else had been at it and sat around until Yavanna came up with cool stuff he could play with.

That aside, tonight Goldberry is wearing fish-scale shoes. #aesthetic

Wow Tom Bombadil’s enchantment is so powerful that he straight up gets Frodo to hand the Ring over, almost without noticing. Tom Bombadil puts on the Ring and--doesn’t vanish! Frodo has to check to make sure it’s really The Ring, so he puts it on. Frodo, no! You’ve been Tempted! Hopefully this wood is too dark for Sauron to see into! o~o

Tom Bombadil instructs them to keep on the northwestern edge of the Downs south of the forest, so as to avoid the barrows and the barrow-wights that haunt them. I can’t wait to find out what exactly those are. And then they all go to sleep, tomorrow to face

THE FOG ON THE BARROW-DOWNS

Frodo dreams of “a song that seemed to come like a pale light behind a grey rain-curtain, and growing stronger to turn the veil all to glass and silver, until at last it was rolled back, and a far green country opened before him under a swift sunrise.” There is something so affecting about this line, and I know I’m not the first one to think so, I’ve heard this quoted so often. “A swift sunrise” is something so... it’s terrible. An alteration of reality that should not be. Primeval and at the same time clearly a portent of some awful (awe-ful) end. 10/10 for classy psychological horror.

Our heroes take leave of their relatively benign faerie hosts and go off along the northern edge of the Downs. They take a foolish rest in the shadow of a standing stone and awake near sunset, surrounded by fog. Like really, supernaturally thick fog that actually forms a dome around and over them, as if supported by the column of the standing stone. OH BOY! Our heroes go in single file through the fog, even though this is clearly a very bad idea, trying to reach the end of the Downs. Frodo, naturally, goes through some kind of magical gateway between two standing stones and is kidnapped by a barrow-wight, which is just a shadowy figure with glowing eyes; he wakes inside a barrow, in the classic funereal pose with hands crossed over his chest.

He saw lying beside him Sam, Pippin, and Merry. They were on their backs, and their faces looked deathly pale; and they were clad in white. About them lay many treasures, though in that light they looked cold and unlovely. On their heads were circlets, gold chains were about their waists, and on their fingers were many rings. Swords lay by their sides, and shields were at their feet. But across their three necks lay one long naked sword.

Fuck yes, this is SO tarot. It looks like barrow-wights want any traveller who passes by to stand in for their dead kings who were buried with their treasure. Frodo calls Tom Bombadil with the incantation he taught them, and they are rescued and the barrow broken open. Merry says a curious thing upon waking: “Of course, I remember! The men of Carn Dûm came on us at night, and we were worsted. Ah! the spear in my heart!” ...So it sounds like Merry at least dreamed of whatever killed the people who were properly buried in the barrow. Ah, yes, a bit later Tom Bombadil tells them that Carn Dûm was the capitol of Angmar, where an evil king (the witch-king??) came from to defeat whoever used to be king in Eriador. And gives them all nice little swords from the barrow’s hoard. For some reason he also prophesies their meeting Aragorn, and tells them to stay in the Prancing Pony inn when they get to Bree, which is where I believe they will meet Aragorn. Maybe Tom Bombadil is in contact with him? We shall see...

#more on this later #blog of the rings

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gladboyaesthetiq · 7 years

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Imagine you're the Witch-King. You and the lads have been hunting down the One Ring for months now, ever since that creepy gangrel fuck told you to go look in The Shire. You know that the Ring is in the possession of a halfling, but fuck me, the little cunts are too short to register in your line of sight. Eventually you track them to Bree after one of them is stupid enough to put the Ring on, and just when you think you've got them, they run off with some homeless cunt who looks an awful lot like the heir to the throne of Gondor. You find them again after the fucking numpties light a fire on the edge of the only elevated ground for miles around in a wide open plain, and now it seems like the homeless man gave them some filthy old shivs. You and the lads figure "Fuck it, we've been at this for months", and decide to mess with them by weakly parrying their blows before knocking them to the ground. The ringbearer, like the fucking idiot he is, then tries to hide from you by putting on the Ring, so you stab the fucker with your Morgul blade for being a twat. Just before you can take the Ring from him, the homeless fucker shows up again and starts setting your Gucci robes on fire, and even throws a flaming torch into your mate's face. You extinguish the flames, but by the time you get back, they're all gone. You almost have them before some she-elf with a vagrant fetish shows up and starts riding off to Rivendell with the somehow-still alive ringbearer. You chase her to the river on the border, but are reluctant to violate the NAP with Elrond, remembering that time he right well fucked you back in Dol Guldor, so you ask her to give you the ringbearer. She offers amnesty from the NAP to allow you to claim him, but while you're crossing the river, she summons a fucking tsunami of horses to trample you and the lads. You get washed down river, the halflings get away, and you really have no choice but to cut your losses and go back to leading the armies of Mordor in the destruction of the world of Men. You trade in your water-logged horse for a fellbeast, run some reconnaissance outside of Mordor, before heading back to make final preparations. One of the lads reports that he saw two halflings in Osgiliath, but got shot by an extremely disappointing man before he could kill them and check for a ring. You figure they'll probably die there in the coming days as you seriously ramp up the offensive, because there's no way they'll make it through your lines, and it's not like halflings from the Shire would have any knowledge of the secret tunnels under the city. So you focus on leading the army of Minas Morgul to attack Minas Tirith, and successfully drive those fuckers out of Ithilien and are in the process of routing them all before that meddling cunt Old Greybeard starts shining a bright light in your eyes, like a dickhead, blinding you. So you let them escape and begin the attack on the city, grabbing the occasional poor bastard and flinging him over the battlements. Eventually that ugly fucker Gothmog brings out Grond and makes his way into the city, driving the defenders inwards, so you turn your attention to killing Gandalf, as his continued existence is becoming increasingly irksome, rallying the hopeless men of Gondor to protract the process of their inevitable death. You find him riding his horse on one of the upper levels of the city, surprisingly far from the battle, where he starts getting smart with you, as though he isn't seconds from death, so you blow up his walking stick as a final "Fuck you" before killing him. Your fellbeast gets briefly distracted by a mouse or something, and doesn't kill him immediately, so you urge it forward to do so, but in that second, a horn goes off and you get struck by the smell of horse. You figure "Fuck it, what's this old cripple going to do without his cane?" and fly off to engage the newly arrived Rohirrim. They charge and absolutely decimate your army, and even manage to rout them briefly before those lazy fuckers from the South finally show up on their elephants, who somehow smell even worse than the Rohirrim. You think to yourself, "Fuck me, when will this day end?" and start making sweeping runs through the ranks of the horsemen in an effort to disrupt their charges, before spying their king. You swoop down, kill his horse, and knock it on top of him, pinning him to the ground. But before you can get your fellbeast to kill him, Generic Rohirrim #8759 somehow musters to courage to stand in defiance of you, the lieutenant of the single most evil thing in existence, you who cause grown men to shit themselves and scream in terror just with your mere presence. You tell that oddly effeminate-sounding horselord to just fuck off, because you really don't have the time to deal with more bullshit on this already shit-filled day, but then the cunt somehow moves faster than your fellbeast can strike, and cuts the useless fucker's head off. Fan-fucking-tastic. By now you are so absolutely fucking pissed, and seething with rage, that all you do is just in inhale sharply before attempting to bludgeon the fuck out of that cheeky son of a bitch with the ridiculous over-sized mace that recently appeared on your Nazgûl Utility Belt, because you're too fucking angry to just stab you; it is absolutely necessary that you completely obliterate this smarmy fucker, even if it is highly ineffective to swing such an unwieldy flail at such an agile target. Eventually you catch them on the arm, splintering both their shield and their bones, and knock them to the ground. You pick them up to strangle them to death, informing them that it was a waste of their time, because no mortal being, such as an individual from the Race of Man, could even hope to kill you without enchanted weaponry, like an Elvish weapon, or those really ancient blades made by the Dunedain that have long since disappeared. Just as it looks like this Eru-fucking awful day is finally looking up, suddenly, a fucking halfling, who you'd entirely forgot existed up until this point, comes up behind you and stabs you in the calf. No biggie, but oh wait, it's one of those Dunedain blades, because OF FUCKING COURSE that homeless cunt who set you on fire before just happened to be casually digging around in the Barrow-Downs and found four daggers perfectly suited to a Hobbit-sized bitch. He falls over, screaming like a pint-sized cunt, and you hit the deck because it hurts like a motherfucker. All of a sudden, the aggravating horse cunt who you were in the process of killing, stands up, takes of his- no, HER, helmet, and completely misinterprets what you said before, as though a penis was some magical ward that protected you. Before you have the chance to correct her bullshit, she stabs you in the fucking face. That's it. You hit breaking point. You no longer give a fuck, and let out an autistic screech to end all autistic screeches, reaching such a pitch and volume that it causes your physical form to collapse in on itself like a black hole before exploding in a wave of pure rage. Fuck this day, fuck everything, and especially fuck hobbits.

#lotr #from the witch kings perspective

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ciathyzareposts · 5 years

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The Two Towers: Bored of the Rings

The Ringbearer hasn’t left the same perilous countryside since the game began.

Lord of the Rings, Vol. II simply doesn’t work. I’m sorry to have reached that conclusion. I had enjoyed the first game well enough and had been looking forward to the sequel, even though I knew there would be no Vol. III. Now I feel that if Interplay was going to leave fans hanging, they should have left them hanging after Vol. I instead of proceeding with this lackluster title.

The yanking around from party to party got worse–laughably worse–after the last session. I began this session with Frodo and Sam, and I’d barely done more than wander through the marsh for five minutes and fight one battle with some orcs, when the game decided it was time to switch the action to Edoras. There, Aragorn et. al. did nothing more than approach the gates of the city before we were off to check in on Merry and Pippin. Then, for some reason, those two had an absurdly long session, ignoring several obvious transition points, culminating in the destruction of Isengard by the Ents. It feels like their story is over before Frodo even got near the Black Gate.

One of my three parties now has nothing to do but wait.

But the problems with Vol. II run much deeper than that. It’s core problem is that it is satisfying neither as a Lord of the Rings game nor a standard RPG. If you were a fan of the original books, I can’t imagine that you’d find this game a good representation. The characters are mute and bereft of any personality. Epic moments are rendered in banal, bloodless manual text or on-screen exposition. The little side quests that the developers threw in to lengthen the plot and make it more like a standard RPG simply slow down and confuse the main story.

Even worse–and I don’t often criticize games on these grounds–the graphics fail to evoke any sense of the kind of awe and wonder you should feel when exploring Middle Earth, running up against its most famous landmarks, and meeting its most famous denizens. I wasn’t one of them, but I can imagine a Lord of the Rings fan, having read the book umpteen times, conceiving in his imagination “the green shoulders of the hills” and the “wide wind-swept walls and the gates of Edoras.” Let’s recall how Tolkien describes the Black Gate:

This was Cirith Gorgor, the Haunted Pass, the entrance to the land of the Enemy. High cliffs lowered upon either side, and thrust forward from its mouth were two sheer hills, black-boned and bare. Upon them stood the Teeth of Mordor, two towers strong and tall. In days long past they were built by the Men of Gondor in their pride and power, after the overthrow of Sauron and his flight, lest he should seek to return to his old realm. But the strength of Gondor failed, and men slept, and for long years the towers stood empty. Then Sauron returned. Now the watch-towers, which had fallen into decay, were repaired, and filled with arms, and garrisoned with ceaseless vigilance. Stony-faced they were, with dark window-holes staring north and east and west, and each window was full of sleepless eyes.

Across the mouth of the pass, from cliff to cliff, the Dark Lord had built a rampart of stone. In it there was a single gate of iron, and upon its battlement sentinels paced unceasingly. Beneath the hills on either side the rock was bored into a hundred caves and maggot-holes: there a host of orcs lurked, ready at a signal to issue forth like black ants going to war. None could pass the Teeth of Mordor and not feel their bite, unless they were summoned by Sauron, or knew the secret passwords that would open the Morannon, the black gate of his land.

Even I, as a non-fan, have to admit that this is pretty powerful stuff. And here is the Black Gate in-game:

One of the two Teeth. There’s a mirror about one screen to the east.

Say what you want about the recent Shadow of Mordor/Shadow of War series, but at least they did (in my opinion) graphical justice to the setting. Here, no matter what Tolkien intended, the architectural style favored by the game for just about every building is “aluminum airplane hangar.” The setting’s most fearsome foes and most majestic allies are impressive in neither icon nor portrait.

Every building looks like the same temporary shelter with no door.

As an RPG, meanwhile, the game fails in almost every category. Character development occurs solely at plot intervals and is remarkably impalpable. The skills system, by which characters can actively use certain skills and attributes, goes back to Wasteland but is ill-used here. Among the individuals in each party, you never lack the necessary skill, and it’s always perfectly obvious where to use it. It might as well have happened automatically. The basic equipment list is unexciting, and the combat system–by which you select “attack” and choose from a list of indistinguishable foes–is even less so.

The game’s relatively boring inventory system.

Many of these problems were present in Vol. I, too, so you will naturally wonder how I can justify giving that game a relatively high score and a positive review. To be fair, I did levy some of the same criticisms about how the game fared as an RPG, but beyond that . . . I don’t know . . . the game just somehow felt fresher. I recognized that it wasn’t perfect, but it was doing something new and original and I was more willing to give it a chance. I expected the developers to have learned some lessons between Vol. I and Vol. II and thus have corrected some of the engine’s weaknesses. If anything, they went backwards.

The lack of cut scenes is a particular blow. The first game had some original artwork at set intervals that served to keep the characters’ personalities embedded in your mind, and that kept you on track with the source material. (The remake replaced this artwork with scenes from the Ralph Bakshi film, which I liked less, but was still better than nothing.) The fall of Isengard ought to command more than a single paragraph of exposition next to a couple of goofy little icons that are supposed to be Ents.

Feeling as I do, I was going to try to push through to the end of the game for this entry, but I didn’t quite make it. Perhaps I didn’t even come close–I have no idea how this game is going to stretch and warp the book’s events. I’ll recap the progress of the characters, but to avoid exposing you to the same constantly-jarring changes in perspective that I experienced, I’ll just relate each group in turn.

Frodo, Sam, Gollum, and Gilglin started at the edge of the Dead Marshes, essentially where they’d started the game 7 hours prior. They’d had the vampire interlude and were looking for something called the “star ruby” before making their way to (or past) the Black Gate. Gollum warned us not to follow the lights in the marsh (I wonder what would have happened if we’d never enlisted him).

“Do not follow the lights. They lead to . . . [hiss] . . . Cleveland.”

Systematically exploring the marshes, we soon fell into a barrow in the ground and met an elf named Nendol. He had sworn to never leave the side of a Numenorean named Vorondur who had saved him in combat–a vow that he soon regretted when Vorondur was cursed by undeath and sentenced to wander the marshes as a shade. Nendol asked if I might be able to release him.

We climbed out of the barrow but soon fell into another one where a ghost, in exchange for some rations (which he mimed eating), allowed us to take the Star Ruby. Back at the vampire’s tower, the Star Ruby banished the undead who wanted it. I think it probably would have helped me against the vampire, but who explores the map in such an erratic fashion that they’d find the ruby first?

A magic ruby for some Lembas bread that you can’t even eat. Seems fair.

We found a group of ghosts hanging out in the marshes, and one of them was Vorondur. Since we had already killed the vampire and received the “spirit key,” all we had to do was give it to Vorondur, and he and the other ghosts were able to pass on. Nendol rewarded us with a dagger, some food, a prybar, a shovel, and leather armor. This was good since Gilglin had joined us with no equipment and had had been beating orcs with his fists.

This was a fun encounter, but some bug put the text all over the place.

We finally made our way through the marshes and south to the Black Gate. There was one encounter where we had to hide from some passing orcs using the “Sneak” skill. As we approached the gate itself, Gollum gave his canonical speech about we’ll all die that way and he can show us a secret path instead. Just for fun, I pressed forward and got a scripted ending. Reloading, I followed Gollum’s directions, and Frodo’s part of the adventure ended as he crossed the border into Ithilien.

West of the sea, everything’s cool.

Merry, Pippin, and their two Ent friends resumed their adventures in Fangorn Forest. They had been tasked with finding two Ents–Leaflock and Skinbark–and watering them so they could rouse themselves and get to the Entmoot. I already knew their locations, and my travel was facilitated by the wandering Ent named Longroot, who will carry the party from place to place if they’re lucky enough to encounter him. Leaflock and Skinbark both responded to Entwater, and both gave the party some kind of password to use, although there was never a place that I used them. I also don’t think I fully explored the ruins or solved the quest involving the seed and the Entwash source. Oh, well.

Back at the Entmoot, the Ents agreed to march on Isengard, and action transitioned to the next map, with Treebeard joining the party (now composed of more Ents than hobbits). Rather than head directly for the fortress, I steered them around the edges and through a mountain pass that led to a village of Dunlendings. They demanded that we leave the village, and when we refused, they attacked us in force and slaughtered us.

To be fair, they are marching to Isengard, not Dunland.

On a reload, I went directly to Isengard. As we approached the gates, we got a textual notice that orcs and men were emptying the fortress, marching off to war somewhere, leaving a skeleton force behind.

Since the party had prematurely cleared out a couple of battles in the previous session, we had an easy time on this visit. After a single battle against a few orcs, the game informed me that the Ents were destroying the fortress, Saruman was in hiding, and there wasn’t anything left for Merry and Pippin to do but go wait by the gatehouse for the rest of the Fellowship to show up. I don’t know how the book is paced, but this seemed an awfully early ending to this thread.

The film version was slightly more epic.

Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Gandalf had barely set foot into Rohan before they were set upon by a band of Rohirrim and escorted to Edoras. Most of the buildings were empty, the occupants fled, so the party made its way to the Golden Hall. There, as in the book, Hama insisted that we divest our weapons, but he grudgingly allowed Gandalf to keep his staff. I had to play this encounter twice because the first time, I didn’t realize that Gandalf’s “Glamdring” was a sword, not a ring, and I didn’t drop it before entering the hall.

This felt wrong, and it turned out it was wrong.

Inside the hall, the dialogue between Gandalf, Grima Wormtongue, and the possessed Theoden played out as in the book. When it was over, I used Gandalf’s staff, Theoden returned to his senses, and Grima fled the hall.

Paraphrased dialogue from the book.

In a divergence from the book, it now transpired that Grima and his allies had set traps all around the multi-leveled Golden Hall, and somewhere had secreted three ancient artifacts: Helm’s Horn, the Cup of Rohan, a bridle, and a scepter. Some prophecy said that Rohan’s armies would never be successful lacking these items, so we had to find them before anyone would ride to war. The party had to wander the rooms and corners of the four levels, using “Perception” and “Disarm Trap” frequently, until we recovered all items. (Some notes in a box that Grima left behind gave us clues as to where to find the items.) There was one battle with a spider in the basement.

Finding the bridle.

When we found the scepter in the attic, Saruman oddly appeared and attacked us. We exchanged a few blows and then he disappeared. I don’t know what that was about.

That was briefly satisfying.

We briefly met Eowyn in one of the bedrooms and recovered Theoden’s sword, Herugrim, in another, although oddly the game wouldn’t let us give it to him. A found note gave a clue as to a side-quest: Saruman had tasked Grima with finding some magical gauntlets near Helm’s Deep. We looted some magic armor and a magic sword from the armory, which turned out to be fortunate because when we left the Golden Hall, the game said that Grima had stolen Anduril in his flight.

I’m surprised that Eowyn won’t join the party. Shoot–maybe I didn’t try.

When the party left the hall, the Rohirrim were yelling things like “For the Mark!” and “Forth Eorlingas!,” so I assume they’re on the move. I end this session with Aragorn and company exploring the area surrounding Edoras to see if they can recover Anduril and/or meet up with the hobbits at Isengard.

Is Anduril even supposed to be reforged yet?

Having not made it past the first 40% of Lord of the Rings, I’m extremely fuzzy on where this installment is likely to end. (Fuzzy and slightly curious; in fact, vague curiosity about how this game ends is really all I have left to look forward to.) I think I remember someone telling me that the film of The Two Towers ends well before its point in the book, but I could be wrong. As far as I know, Merry and Pippin have nothing left to do. Aragorn and his party still have to go to Helm’s Deep, which I assume will be the climax of the game.” As for Frodo and Sam, I suspect they need to meet Faramir (though I understand events play out very different in the book than in the films) and then find the secret tunnel. Will they run into Shelob? I guess we’ll soon see. One more entry should do it.

Time so far: 12 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/the-two-towers-bored-of-the-rings/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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humancowfetish · 5 years

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lord of the rings dos walkthrough i found in my files while transferring shit and am posting for no reason other than my own self fulfillment

THE LORD OF THE RINGS - SOLUTION - TYPED BY VAXALON - 1994 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 1 (played as Frodo) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Open the drawer, chest, cupboard and door, take one of the canvas backpacks and put into it the matchbox, bottle and food. Go east, then south to the main highway, the west until you reach the turn-off for the town hall. Go north and then east to meet the Mayor. Now go west, south, west and west to enter the Mathom House (if the guard refuses you entrance, just WEAR RING and go west). In here take the book and the candle. Then go west until you are back at the highway outside your cottage, then go east, north-east, north-east, south-east, south and east (through the yellow door) to find Merry. EAT MEAL until it's finished and go west and north. If there are no riders about go east and then south-east into the forest with the trees that move. If the riders are present then go north, south, east and south-east into the forest (moves east and west are fatal when the riders are about, but others are usually safe until they've gone). In the forest you need to remember two locations, the wide glade and the grassy glade. To pass from the wide to the grassy you need to go east, so just type WAIT and then EAST until the trees let you pass. In the grassy glade it's the same, except that you want to go south-east to find the hilltop. At the hilltop go south to the riverbank then north-east to the willow. At this point your companions should fall asleep, so go north-east to Tom Bombadil and SAY TO TOM "HELP". Now return to the willow and WAIT. As soon as they are free go north-east to Tom's and EAT MEAL until it's finished. Thank Tom then go east until you meet the Barrow Wight. Now tell your companions to take a sword each, then WEAR RING and go east. At the gate, TAKE OFF RING and KNOCK. When asked, SAY TO GATEKEEPER "FRODO" and then SAY TO SAM "GO SOUTH-WEST AND OPEN RED DOOR". Once sam has gone go south-west and then south into the store. Here take all the food supplies and then SAY TO SAM "GO NORTH AND KILL A BLACK RIDER". Do the same with Pippin, and when Sam returns tell him to do it again. WAIT until they both return and then go north and west and SAY TO STRANGER "HELLO". Now WAIT for Strider to leave, then FOLLOW STRIDER and continue to do so until you find the flat stone. READ STONE and WAIT, then Strider will go off again so FOLLOW STRIDER once more until you reach the Fortress Of Fornost. Here WAIT until the Starling talks to Strider and then FOLLOW STRIDER back to the gate. Now WAIT twice and them go east, WAIT twice more and go east again. Around this point the Black Riders should enter, so go north and then east to the bare hilltop and WAIT five times. Now go south and FOLLOW STRIDER. At the bridge Strider will stop, so SAY TO STRIDER "GO EAST" (you will have to do this at least twice). When he agrees to follow you, go east until you can go no further and Part One is complete.

NOTE REGARDING BLACK RIDERS: This solution depends on timing to avoid the Black Riders, but the 'correct' way to pass time is to use the pale green jewels. The following routine should enable you to learn the words needed to release their powers: Go to the lake, then w, w, s, sw, s, e, ne, sw, w, s, to locate the Monk who will tell you what to do next. Then go n, w, n, w, s to locate the Green Knight. Attack and defeat him and make sure you take the Broken Medallion that he leaves behind. Then back to Monk, then, n, e, se, to locate the Red Lady, kill her and take her medallion. Return to monk and you should be allowed to pass through the stone door to the south of him, where you will find yet another door. Knock and wait until Radagast answers and he should give you the scroll with the magic words on. Now whenever you encounter the Black Riders, make sure that Frodo, Pippin and Sam are carrying one jewel each and type in magic words to get rid of Riders. Give any spare jewels to Merry to carry.

GENERAL TIPS 1)Keep up your strength by eating at regular intervals. 2)If the riders enter the same location as yourself, go any direction bar east and west. 3)Elfstones can be found in the willow (Pippin will be carrying them when he is rescued), at the top of a tree that can be climbed by Hobbits and in a plant pot (TAKE THE PLANT and EXAMINE POT). 4)If you ever visit farmer Maggott's farm, just WAIT three times when dogs arrive and all will be well. 5)If you must go via the tunnel, then light the candle before you enter it (OPEN MATCHBOX, LIGHT MATCH, LIGHT CANDLE WITH MATCH). 6)If you want to use the ferry than take it in turns to wind the handle. 7)If you really want to live like a Hobbit, then you need to get the pouch and a pipe. Now OPEN POUCH, FILL PIPE and LIGHT MATCH (as before). Then LIGHT PIPE WITH MATCH and enjoy a good smoke of the pipeweed.

PART 2 ~~~~~~ Go north-east and north and you should encounter a small brown pony, then go south-west to meet Glorfindel. Talk to him and he will tell you that he has been sent to guide you. Go south and then east, then RIDE STALLION and SAY TO STALLION "GO EAST" as soon as you see the Black Riders approaching. Continue east until you have crossed the ford, then GET OFF STALLION and WAIT until your companions appear. Go east to Elrond's courtyard, then north and east until you meet Bilbo. EAT MEAL until it's finished, then FOLLOW BILBO to his bedroom. WAIT for him to speak, then SAY TO BILBO "NO" and repeat until he gives you the sword. Then WAIT and he will also give you the Mithril Shirt. WEAR SHIRT then go west, east, south, west to meet the council of Elrond. When the meeting is over and you are assembled outside, WAIT and the pony will be laden with supplies. Proceed south, south, south-west, south-east and then WAIT again. Go south-east and WAIT. Go south-west and WAIT yet again. Now take Strider's advice and EAT. Then go south-east and at this point distribute the bundles of cakes amongst the company (e.g. SAY TO BOROMIR "TAKE CAKES"). Go east until you encounter the outline of a door upon the rock, EXAMINE DOOR and then SAY TO DOOR "FRIEND". At this point you will be grabbed by the tentacle (ouch!), so ATTACK TENTACLES and when they release you, go east. In the mines, go u, e, e, e, d, d, w, w, w, d, and you should be in a corridor (but see note 2). PUSH HORSE and the slab will open, so now go east, e, e, u, and east and you should be in a room with a book and a stone block in it, along with a pile of armour. READ BOOK and EXAMINE BLOCK in order to hear a noise in the corridor. WAIT and when they enter, ATTACK ORCS. Now go east and WAIT. When Gandalf talks to you, go east and LIGHT CANDLE WITH MATCH. Go down, d, s, d, south until you enter the square room. If all the party are not with you, you can backtrack at this point to round them up. When all are present, s, d, and then proceed east until you get to the bridge. WAIT on the bridge and Gandalf will tell you to flee, so go east until you emerge into Dimrill Dale then WAIT and FOLLOW GIMLI. Now head south-east until you arrive on the eastern bank of the Nimrodel. When the elf enters, WAIT, then proceed east to the river. Here the best policy is to SAY TO ELF "HELP" and then SAY TO GIMLI "GO NORTH-WEST". When he has gone, you must go north-east over the rope and then WAIT. Now go west and WAIT again. When the doors have opened, head east to the tree and then go up, then SAY TO GALADRIEL "HELP". When she has replied, climb down and go west to the bridge but do not cross it. Now go south until you reach the banks of the Anduin river and your quest is complete.

NOTE: 1)There are many other incidents and happenings along the way, this is just one solution, but it is impossible in a game with so many variables to include a comprehensive guide to everything. If you have managed to get through the game once, however, you should then be able to go back and explore the complexity of it some more. 2)If the route given above when entering the mines doesn't work, try instead going up, e, e, e, d, d, w, d, s, d. 3)If Gimli insists on killing the Tactiturn Elf then you can either send him away or else try to take his axe from him. 4)The above solution relies on timing to avoid the black riders, as follows: After the Starling has talked to Strider, return to the gate of Bree and WAIT twice, then go east and and WAIT twice more. Now go e, n, e, e, and WAIT five times before heading south then east over the bridge. In case of problems, just try varying the number of times you WAIT in each place until you find the correct sequence to enable you to pass over the bridge in safety.

Originally displayed at the `Spectrum Adventurer' web pages (URL - http://home.virtual-pc.com/isblpx/index.html)

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readbookywooks · 7 years

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BOMBADIL GOES BOATING

The old year was turning brown; the West Wind was calling; Tom caught a beechen leaf in the Forest falling. 'I've caught a happy day blown me by the breezes! Why wait till morrow-year? I'll take it when me pleases. This day I'll mend my boat and journey as it chances west down the withy-stream, following my fancies!' Little Bird sat on twig. 'Whillo, Tom! I heed you. I've a guess, I've a guess where your fancies lead you. Shall I go, shall I go, bring him word to meet you?' 'No names, you tell-tale, or I'll skin and eat you, babbling in every ear things that don't concern you! If you tell Willow-man where I've gone, I'll burn you, roast you on a willow-spit. That'll end your prying!' Willow-wren cocked her tail, piped as she went flying: 'Catch me first, catch me first! No names are needed. I'll perch on his hither ear: the message will be heeded. "Down by Mithe", I'll say, "just as sun is sinking" Hurry up, hurry up! That's the time for drinking!' Tom laughed to himself: 'Maybe then I'll go there. I might go by other ways, but today I'll row there.' He shaved oars, patched his boat; from hidden creek he hauled her through reed and sallow-brake, under leaning alder, then down the river went, singing: 'Silly-sallow, Flow withy-willow-stream over deep and shallow!' 'Whee! Tom Bombadil! Whither be you going, bobbing in a cockle-boat, down the river rowing?' 'Maybe to Brandywine along the Withywindle; maybe friends of mine fire for me will kindle down by the Hays-end. Little folk I know there, kind at the day's end. Now and then I go there'. 'Take word to my kin, bring me back their tidings! Tell me of diving pools and the fishes' hidings!' 'Nay then,' said Bombadil, 'I am only rowing just to smell the water like, not on errands going'. 'Tee hee! Cocky Tom! Mind your tub don't founder! Look out for willow-snags! I'd laugh to see you flounder'. 'Talk less, Fisher Blue! Keep your kindly wishes! Fly off and preen yourself with the bones of fishes! Gay lord on your bough, at home a dirty varlet living in a sloven house, though your breast be scarlet. I've heard of fisher-birds beak in air a-dangling to show how the wind is set: that's an end of angling!' The King's fisher shut his beak, winked his eye, as singing Tom passed under bough. Flash! then he went winging; dropped down jewel-blue a feather, and Tom caught it gleaming in a sun-ray: a pretty gift he thought it. He stuck it in his tall hat, the old feather casting: 'Blue now for Tom', he said, "a merry hue and lasting!' Rings swirled round his boat, he saw the bubbles quiver. Tom slapped his oar, smack! at a shadow in the river. 'Hoosh! Tom Bombadil! 'Tis long since last I met you. Turned water-boatman, eh? What if I upset you?' 'What? Why, Whisker-lad, I'd ride you down the river. My fingers on your back would set your hide a-shiver.' 'Pish, Tom Bombadil! I'll go and tell my mother; "Call all our kin to come, father, sister, brother! Tom's gone mad as a coot with wooden legs: he's paddling down Withywindle stream, an old tub a-straddling!"' 'I'll give your otter-fell to Barrow-wights. They'll taw you! Then smother you in gold-rings! Your mother if she saw you, she'd never know her son, unless 'twas by a whisker. Nay, don't tease old Tom, until you be far brisker!' 'Whoosh! said otter-lad, river-water spraying over Tom's hat and all; set the boat a-swaying, dived down under it, and by the bank lay peering, till Tom's merry song faded out of hearing. Old Swan of Elvet-isle sailed past him proudly, gave Tom a black look, snorted at him loudly. Tom laughed: 'You old cob, do you miss your feather? Give me a new one then! The old was worn by weather. Could you speak a fair word, I would love you dearer: long neck and dumb throat, but still a haughty sneerer! If one day the King returns, in upping he may take you, brand your yellow bill, and less lordly make you!' Old Swan huffed his wings, hissed, and paddled faster; in his wake bobbing on Tom went rowing after. Tom came to Withy-weir. Down the river rushing foamed into Windle-reach, a-bubbling and a-splashing; bore Tom over stone spinning like a windfall, bobbing like a bottle-cork, to the hythe at Grindwall. Hoy! Here's Woodman Tom with his bill��-beard on!' laughed all the little folk of Hays-end and Breredon. 'Ware, Tom' We'll shoot you dead with our bows and arrows' We don't let Forest-folk nor bogies from the Barrows cross over Brandywine by cockle-boat nor ferry'. 'Fie, little fatbellies! Don't ye make so merry! I've seen hobbit-folk digging holes to hide 'em, frightened if a horny goat or a badger eyed 'em, afeared of the moony-beams, their own shadows shunning. I'll call the orks on you: that'll send you running!' 'You may call, Woodman Tom. And you can talk your beard off. Three arrows in your hat! You we're not afeared of! Where would you go to now? If for beer you're making, the barrels aint deep enough in Breredon for your slaking!' 'Away over Brandywine by Shirebourn I'd be going, but too swift for cockle-boat (he river now is flowing. I'd bless little folk that took me in their wherry, wish them evenings fair and many mornings merry'. Red flowed the Brandywine: with flame the river kindled. as sun sank beyond the Shire, and then to grey it dwindled. Mithe Steps empty stood. None was there to greet him. Silent the Causeway lay. Said Tom: 'A merry meeting!' Tom slumped along the road, as the light was failing. Rushey lamps gleamed ahead. He heard a voice him hailing. 'Whoa there!' Ponies stopped, wheels halted sliding. Tom went plodding past. never looked beside him. 'Ho there! beggarman tramping in the Marish! What's your business here? Hat all stuck with arrows! Someone's warned you off, caught you at your sneaking? Come here! Tell me now what it is you're seeking! Shire-ale. I'll be bound, though you've not a penny. I'll bid them lock their doors, and then you won't get any'' 'Well, well. Muddy-feet! From one that's late for meeting away back by the Mithe that's a surly greeting! You old farmer fat that cannot walk for wheezing, cart-drawn like a sack, ought to be more pleasing. Penny-wise tub-on-legs! A beggar can't be chooser, or else I'd bid you go, and you would be the loser. Come, Maggot! Help me up! A tankard now you owe me. Even in cockshut light an old friend should know me!' Laughing they drove away, in Rushey never halting, though the inn open stood and they could smell the mailing. They turned down Maggot's Lane, rattling and bumping, Tom in the farmer's cart dancing round and jumping. Stars shone on Bamfurlong, and Maggot's house was lighted; fire in the kitchen burned to welcome the benighted. Maggot's sons bowed at door, his daughters did their curtsy, his wife brought tankards out for those that might be thirsty. Songs they had and merry tales the supping and the dancing; Goodman Maggot there for all his belt was prancing, Tom did a hornpipe when he was not quaffing, daughters did the Springle-ring, goodwife did the laughing. When others went to bed in hay, fern, or feather, close in the inglenook they laid their heads together, old Tom and Muddy-feet, swapping all the tidings from Barrow-downs to Tower Hills: of walkings and of ridings; of wheat-ear and barley-corn, of sowing and of reaping; queer tales from Bree, and talk at smithy, mill, and cheaping; rumours in whispering trees, south-wind in the larches, tall Watchers by the Ford, Shadows on the marches. Old Maggot slept at last in chair beside the embers. Ere dawn Tom was gone: as dreams one half remembers, some merry, some sad, and some of hidden warning. None heard the door unlocked; a shower of rain at morning his footprints washed away, at Mithe he left no traces, at Hays-end they heard no song nor sound of heavy paces. Three days his boat lay by the hythe at Grindwall, and then one mom was gone back up Withywindle. Otter-folk, hobbits said, came by night and loosed her, dragged her over weir, and up stream they pushed her. Out from Elvet-isle Old Swan came sailing, in beak took her painter up in the water trailing, drew her proudly on; otters swam beside her round old Willow-man's crooked roots to guide her; the King's fisher perched on bow, on thwart the wren was singing, merrily the cockle-boat homeward they were bringing. To Tom's creek they came at last. Otter-lad said: 'Whish now! What's a coot without his legs, or a unless fish now?' O! silly-sallow-willow-stream! The oars they'd left behind them! Long they lay at Grindwall hythe for Tom to come and find them.

#TomBombadil

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