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shirefantasies · 9 days

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First off, congratulations on 300 followers 🎉 I’m a big fan of your work! I was wondering if you could write about the different elf characters and how they would react to realizing they have feelings for a hobbit! reader?

Thank you & my apologies for the late response on this one 😅 but this is a fun one so let's see!

The Elves Realizing Their Feelings for Hobbit!Reader

Thranduil

Denial penetrates every corner of the woodland king's mind- such a humble creature, known not in the slightest for their ways of allure, and yet you permeate his thoughts so! Surely it was your reaction to the sight of him, the simplicity of your manner that was ever so refreshing. Thranduil knows little more than reverence to a fault, cowing and great shows and yet…you see him. You treat him as anyone else. No fanfare, but no expectations either. No doubts. Thus he works to doubt you less, to make less assumptions about your ability and even jokes about your stature. He finds as you talk that you share a love of nature, all your reverence dedicated almost solely to the earth’s growing things, the way roots seek what they need. Thranduil does the same, you point out, and ever does he endure in his place of nourishment, but sometimes any plant needs a good repotting. Astute, very astute, and yet your words strike his heart like an arrow. You, he wishes to say, are his repotting. But perhaps he should put that more romantically… all the greatest shows of elvenkind for a mere hobbit. Who would have thought? Thranduil reflects with a fond, amazed smile.

Feren

From the moment he grabbed hold of you, knife pressed to the back of your neck, Feren puzzled at the way his heartbeat sped, not yours. You were no threat to him, you were nothing in fact save an intruder in his lord Thranduil's realm, one of many his patrol took into custody. You were the smallest, he noticed, and certainly the least deadly if the startled, pleading look in your eyes was anything to go off of. Why did you keep... No, he could hardly relent, not when he had orders to- "You are afraid?" He found himself whispering to you, hiding his gaze upon you by hovering it over you and the other hobbit. You nod and he begins to whisper words of comfort to you, explaining that while stubborn, his king was nothing if not benevolent and would likely simply detain you. No harm would come your way. When indeed Thranduil sentenced your odd company to imprisonment, he found himself strolling to your cell time and time again, offering you food and drink and answering your rapid fire of questions ranging from what would happen to you to soon what customs were practiced in the Woodland Realm. "I think this place is beautiful," you told him, "I think if I were to rot anywhere, I am glad that it is to be here." "I think so, too," Feren agreed, and why he spoke the next part he still did not know, "And I do not think that shall be your fate." It was not until he walked away from you, considering what things he might bring to show you, that he realized how attracted to you he truly had become.

Legolas

Finds himself studying you, gaze unable to fall from you for too long, searching your every movement. Suddenly his interest in hobbits has increased tenfold; in fact, Legolas begins speaking more to Frodo and Sam about their customs, favorite things back in the Shire. His heart swells further for it just as you, taking in with bright eyes every spray of harebell and piping hot cup of lavender tea with scones and little gift of courtship presented to the hobbit of one's dreams. Pastoral, joyful, many delights absent from the prince's own upbringing- what a breath of fresh air you are! But what does he say to you? If possible, the elven prince finds himself even quieter than normal, simply captivated by your every motion. As a result he leans upon conveyance through action, rushing to your defense in battle and being there to catch you when you fall, enjoying in the briefest moments the feeling of his hands about your waist.

Haldir

Years have worn him. Battles have hardened him. Customs have dictated he be free of emotion as much as possible, or else suppress display of them for decorum. You, by contrast, are so innocent, almost painfully so and every sight of your wide, shining eyes has Haldir swearing to protect you. The world cannot take away your wonder, your sweetness, the good you see in all people. Oh, he cannot even wish immortal life upon you for all its horrors, and does he even wish it for himself? The small being remaining within him cries out for your life, to be swept off to your Shire and work hard at cultivating joy above all else. While that future may not lie ahead of him, he seeks it in every question he asks, every story he requests. Often does he marvel at your hidden strengths and wonders, especially in such a deceptively small package.

Galadriel

Oh, the way you charm and flatter her! Someone so small yet without any fear in the world as you spill the sweetest words before her. Galadriel cannot help smiling, especially when you gently take her hand and she sees just how small yours looks in hers. She begins to dream of ways she could hold you, how she can reach down to cup your cheeks… And then without warning she is lost in reverie. Her space is yours and you all but have free rein of her home. All from these unexpected, wildly blossoming feelings. Secretly she wishes you would still seek her out, but Galadriel knows above all that that choice is yours. She will simply have to wait and see and hope each dream she shares of simple joys like a riverside walk or even drawing closer to you in greater, deeper ways from the recesses of her mind, are shared by you…

Lindir

These unfamiliar sensations he experiences in your presence can only be one thing. The desire to run his fingers through your curls, surely soft as they appear. The way you have become his muse, inspiring more than a single song. You have a greater appreciation for arts than Lindir must admit he would have expected of the Shire-folk, and your wonder has him wishing to experience it all again for the first time. Is he to speak these things aloud? Does he dare? Whatever might Lord Elrond think if his servant were to do such a thing? Not, of course, that he has not wished Lindir great happiness. Happiness. Your smile, so genuine, sincere as your bright words. Yes, you are happiness, and such cannot go unspoken, or perhaps unsung…

Elrond

Many words have been spoken of the quiet strength of hobbits, quite a few of them by the Lord of Imladris himself. You are no exception to this, appearing before him as a little blaze of fire unafraid to make demands at council. He cannot even fight, just chuckle and hear your terms, and he wonders if you take notice of the way the others look at his soft response. Why, he wonders, is he being so giving- simple appreciation for the pastoral little folk and all they symbolize for the joy and hope of the world? Perhaps, but a part of him is forced to admit… He is attracted to you. Much time has passed since Elrond has been met with such a force, and quite simply put it stirs something in him. Much as he has endured in this world, your desire to fight for every joy you've ever known rings true to Elrond's own creation of a house of comfort...in your own special way. He cannot help but smile as he listens to you.

Arwen

Developing a little habit for teasing you, Arwen always manages to slink behind you and offer to help you reach something off a high shelf, voice low and lips curved upward. She is older than her visage suggests, wiser, thus you are not the first hobbit to cross her path and she looks upon you with no great shock. She does, however, seek to show a greater level of respect than the so-called 'little folk' tend to be shown. During discussions with her father and the other elves, Arwen smiles and waves you forward, especially if you happen to be shy, then her affection only grows, a hand falling over your shoulder and her smile widening. The more time you spend together, the more this happens, Arwen taking your hand to wish you well, sliding a hand over your waist to move past you, even playfully nudging you when you run together and always keeping pace with you. She is comfortable with you, she realizes, happiest at your side, and that is when it sinks in: she loves you.

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#lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #thranduil #feren #legolas #haldir #galadriel #lindir #elrond #arwen #hobbit reader #ask #anon #requested

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sustinentiae-spei · 2 months

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Sam/Rosie (Book vs Movie)

There's a post going 'round with a lot of notes about the difference between Sam and Rosie's relationship in the book vs the movie, and I wanted to share my own thoughts.

It's undeniable that Sam and Rosie's relationship in the movie is different from in the books...but is it actually worse? Let's discuss!

Facts.

In the book, we know that Sam and Rosie are friends; we know she's willing to wait for him; we know that after he comes back, they then get married.

In the movies, we know that Sam and Rosie admire each other but from a distance; we know it's only when Sam returns that he has the courage to ask her out himself; they then get married.

These two scenarios are different, yes, but which one is better?

I actually think the second is better, and here's why.

Shallow vs Deep

The original post suggests that Sam and Rosie's relationship is more "shallow" in the movies, but this is an assumption. An understandable assumption, but nonetheless only an assumption.

Consider this: what if Sam and Rosie's years of friendship was based on only what we see in the books: they hung out with her brothers in a mutual group and enjoyed splashing around the rivers together?

That's...fine. But there's no depth to this. They were just hanging out and eventually developed a mutual crush - maybe due to nothing more than proximity and familiarity.

Alternatively, consider all the possible reasons why Sam and Rosie could admire each other, even from a distance. Maybe she admires him for his steadfastness in caring for Bilbo and Frodo and for refusing to care about the gossip of other hobbits. Maybe he admires her for her determination to create a safe and hospitable place for hobbits to rest and for her ability as a barmaid to listen well to other people.

There actually would be quite a bit of depth in that scenario.

The reality is, we just don't know which scenario has more depth. Either could have quite a bit of depth; either could be shallow. It's really up to us to fill in the gaps as we like.

Impact

So if neither is objectively more shallow or deep, why do I prefer the movie's ending? Simple: because of what it adds to the story - the significance, the impact.

In the books, Rosie's steadfastness adds because the Shire has been torn apart. The Shire is heartbreakingly upside-down, yet Tolkien gives us Rosie to hold onto: she is still the same, and she and Sam are able to get married at the end even after everything, giving readers much-needed comfort.

But in the movies, the Shire is tranquil. We already have the comfort of everything being the same back home (though with an additional discomfort of no longer fitting in). To have Rosie and Sam already basically established wouldn't add anything.

Instead, we see it is Sam's adventure that gives him the courage to finally pursue her, and this adds so much to Sam's character. Sam, who is so self-deprecating, who doesn't get fancy titles like the rest of his friends, who generally does not see himself as a hero.

What does it tell us if, prior to the adventure he felt unworthy of her, but now after the adventure he feels worthy of her? It tells us that Sam finally sees himself as heroic.

And that is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

#samwise gamgee #rosie cotton #the lord of the rings #meta #books vs movies

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frodo-with-glasses · 7 months

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More Reading Thoughts: Three Is Company

Frodo calling it “Our Birthday” is making me feel things. Oh would you look at the time, it’s Crying About Bilbo and Frodo O’Clock again TT~TT

It’s honestly such a mood that Frodo says to himself “I’m following Bilbo!” so he doesn’t have to think about “I’m carrying a thing of great evil into danger and unseen ends”. Me too, Frodo. Me too.

“And see that Sam Gamgee does not talk. If he does, I really shall turn him into a toad.” 🤣

“Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Also “and not to return” is so heartbreaking, especially knowing that by the time he gets to Mordor Frodo is fully expecting to die at the end of his journey TT^TT

“It may be your task to find the Cracks of Doom.” JUST DROP THAT FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE LIKE IT’S NOTHING, HUH, TOLKIEN??

Also teehee crack

Yes I am a twelve year old boy on the inside, moving on

The local shade towards the Sackville-Bagginses is HYSTERICAL

“Ah yes Merry is looking out for a house for me in Buckland.” INSTANCE #2 OF MERRY BEING ORGANIZATIONALLY GOATED

I’m honestly very impressed by how neatly Tolkien crafted Frodo’s backstory and interwove it into the story. The idea that he’s going back to Buckland where he grew up really does seem credible! None of the hobbits would suspect a thing! I almost have to wonder which came first in Tolkien’s mind, Frodo’s backstory or the fact that he’d need a good excuse to go East. It’s so well-crafted and it makes my writer brain happy.

F in the chat for Folco Boffin; we know your name and nothing else about you

Frodo draining the last of the wine like “lol at least the Sackville-Bagginses won’t get THIS!” is very funny to me

I have said it before, I’ll say it again, Frodo looking in the mirror and going “geez I’ve gotten fat” will NEVER NOT BE FUNNY

“Frodo did not offer [Lobelia] any tea.” I hereby name you Frodo Sassville-Baggins.

Aww, the Gaffer agreed to Sam going to Crickhollow to work for Frodo!

If only he knew just how far he was really going

“…though it did not console him for the prospect of having Lobelia as a neighbour.” o7 for the Gaffer, everybody

And they had tea by themselves and left the dishes for Lobelia 🤣 FRODO SASSVILLE-BAGGINS

“‘Coming, sir!’ came the answer from far within, followed soon by Sam himself, wiping his mouth. He had been saying farewell to the beer-barrel in the cellar.” LOL

Also I can’t blame him, knowing what he’s walking into

“He waved his hand, then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE—

Frodo, whining: "My bag is so heavy" Sam, lying: "I could carry more, sir!" Pippin: "Oh no you don't, let him suffer"

Honestly the dynamic of this trio is super underrated LOL

I'm honestly not sure whether "well, we all like walking in the dark" is meant to be sarcastic or genuine—the way it's repeated later on makes me think it's genuine, but I can't be sure—so just to be safe I'm bringing the Frodo Sassville-Baggins score up to 2.5

I'm taking the time to read the walking bits slowly now, and honestly, the way Tolkien describes the countryside of the Shire is so beautiful. I want to go there, and I want to walk there, and I want to see what the hobbits are seeing. Every little piece of nature and topography elicits an emotion; from the enclosed safety of Hobbiton, cradled in its cozy little valley, to the great fir tree standing guard over the hobbits as they sleep, to the road winding endlessly on before them, promising still more work and beautiful scenery and adventures to come. Is this slow reading? Yes. But I love it so much.

Frodo wakes up and the first thing he does is grumble to himself about his back and neck. He really is an old man. I love him.

Honestly this entire scene is comedy gold

Frodo: "Wake up, hobbits! It's a beautiful morning." Pippin, a literal teenager: "What's so beautiful about it?" ROFLOL

Pippin, literally out in the middle of nowhere: "Sam, draw a bath!"

And for that, Frodo steals his blankets and makes him roll over. Frodo Sassville-Baggins score: 3.5

Pippin: "Water! Where's the water?" Frodo: "I don't keep water in my pockets!" SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 4.5

And then he makes Pippin come get the water with him, since he wants it so badly. I love Exasperated Older Sibling Frodo and I wish we got to see so much more of it.

Pippin, after Frodo randomly bursts into poetry: "Wow, was that Bilbo's poetry, or yours? It's kind of a downer."

I'm so glad they kept the "it's dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door" line in the movies, because it really is so good.

Sam's canonically good hearing returns!

Frodo suggesting they prank Gandalf for being late is honestly so cute lol

Twice in this chapter we get the eucatastrophe of Frodo just barely not putting on the Ring, right at the last second. The first time, the Black Rider just walks off on his own, and the second time the Elves show up and scare him off. I will praise Frodo's virtues 'till Spring turns into Winter, but I think this is clear evidence right from the beginning that Frodo was not, and could not, be saved from the temptation of the Ring by any virtue of his own. He is saved; he does not save himself. All of which is honestly very Christian of Tolkien.

Pippin, to Frodo: "All right, keep your secrets!"

I love the walking song. I might do a revised recording of it, if you guys will tolerate my singing voice again X-D

Can we just acknowledge how bad*ss it is that Frodo sneaks up and spies on a Black Rider, just out of curiosity?? Like, I know this is more a feat of stupidity than it is of courage, but given everything we know about them by the end of the book, that is honestly WICKED cool.

Sam, having to be dragged back by his arms: "ELVES! ELVES!"

GILDOR!!

GILDOR MY UNDERRATED BESTIE

I can't wait to draw Gildor. He's gonna be so PRETTY

"But we have no need of other company, and hobbits are so dull" is so funny tho

The Elves, with all the love in their hearts: "You can't sit with us, you're boring!"

FINROD MY MAN

I have not read the Silmarillion, but I know enough about it to know that Finrod is the G.O.A.T.

The Elves: "You're being followed by Black Riders?? Okay you're coming with us now"

Frodo speaking the High-elven tongue like a NERD

I love him

And Gildor immediately like "LOL y'all watch your language, the babies can understand us!" I love him dearly

....Okay wait I have a thought about the hobbits walking with the elves until they nearly fall asleep on their feet. A thought about soldiers and Tolkien's experience in war. Wait. I'm gonna have to make a post about this.

Eyyyy it's the Turin constellation!

Something about the Elven hall did indeed become a core memory for young Lady Glasses. I spent quite a few years building a fantasy world that would capture that sense of mysticism and wonder. Just like Sam and Pippin, I never really remembered the details, but the emotion stuck with me, and it enchanted my imagination.

The Elves bringing out a Thanksgiving feast and saying "sorry we don't have better food" is like going over to your friend's immaculately cleaned house and them saying "sorry for the mess"

Frodo speaking the Elves' language and charming them all is so cute

Sam falling asleep at Frodo's feet as he talks to Gildor is SO CUTE

“At last Frodo asked the question that was nearest to his heart: ‘Tell me, Gildor, have ever you seen Bilbo since he left us?’” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT—

"My faithful Sam" UGH THE FEELS

Gildor: "But it is said: 'Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.'" Frodo: "And it is also said, 'Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.'" HAHAHA GETTIM FRODO

SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 5.5

Gildor saying "you don't need to understand the Black Riders, just stay away from them" is honestly very Christian of Tolkien too. The best spiritual warfare advice I've ever heard is "don't try to understand demons; just get as close to your Protector".

Anyway Gildor complimenting Frodo is very cute and that is all

#chapter review #frodo baggins #gandalf #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #samwise gamgee #peregrin took #pippin #gildor #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing

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middle-earth-mythopoeia · 7 months

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Top 5 favorite Frodo Baggins moments?

Oooh, thanks for the ask! This is such a good question, and it's so hard to answer! These are just the top 5 I can think of right now, because let's be real, every moment in the entire Lord of the Rings is my favorite Frodo moment!

5. When he's planning to leave the Shire and all his friends totally see through it, because he's been muttering about it to himself in a very obvious way for ages, and then he's actually SURPRISED that they know about everything AND they insist on coming with him! Also the entire Crickhollow part is just perfect. And the journey there.

4. When Gildor DOESN'T give him advice, and Frodo says, "Go not to the Elves for counsel for they will answer both no and yes." His sense of humor is so underrated! Also I love how in that part the Elves are so impressed by his ability to speak Elvish. As someone who is also fascinated by Elvish, I love that Frodo is canonically a nerd.

3. When he and Sam hold hands and sleep next to each other during the journey through Cirith Ungol. I don't know, I could pick literally any scene with Frodo and Sam, but those moments stand out to me because of what a horrifying place it is and how they take comfort in each other's presence.

2. When he has pity for Sméagol and spares his life. This is obviously a crucial element of the story for reasons I don't even need to explain... But on the same note, I think it's really important that he prevents hobbits from killing each other during the Scouring of the Shire, and it really exemplifies why he's such a good person. 1. And finally, when he volunteers to take the Ring. Is anyone surprised this is number one? I mean, it's THE bravest and most selfless thing you could pretty much ever do. I just love Frodo so much. I have to quote the scene here because it is SO GOOD:

‘I will take the Ring,’ he said, ‘though I do not know the way.’ Elrond raised his eyes and looked at him, and Frodo felt his heart pierced by the sudden keenness of the glance. ‘If I understand aright all that I have heard,’ he said, ‘I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great. Who of all the Wise could have foreseen it? Or, if they are wise, why should they expect to know it, until the hour has struck? But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none could lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, I will say that your choice is right; and though all the mighty elf-friends of old, Hador, and Húrin, and Túrin, and Beren himself were assembled together, your seat should be among them.’

YES! YES! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS! I have nothing helpful to add just YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! His seat WOULD be among them!

#thank you so much for the ask <3 #this was a really good one #asks #Frodo #my writing

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middleearthpixie · 8 months

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Living Proof ~ Chapter Fifteen

Summary: When he puts himself between the Uruk-hai and Merry and Pippin, Boromir knows it means sacrificing himself. But it also means redemption for his near betrayal of Frodo and the Fellowship, and so it is a price he is more than willing to pay.

Kaia has been on her own for as long as she can remember, having escaped a terrible life in a village not far from Mordor. When she hears the sounds of battle, she knows what it means and when she ventured forth and finds a gravely wounded man lying amongst the leaves and debris, she takes him in, not knowing he is actually the son of the steward of Gondor.

Angry at himself and faced with a long road to recovery, Boromir does not make things easy on Kaia and it is only through her own sheer will that she does not give into the urge to hit him over the head with something on a daily basis. That refusal to give up brings about changes neither one of them could have foreseen. She just wanted to save him. She never thought he would save her in return…

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Kaia

Warnings: Unprotected, kind of angry sex :)

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.3k

Tag List: @sotwk @heilith @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls @doctorwhump @kmc1989 @estethell @emrfangirl @emmanuellececchi

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Something fluttered against her cheek. Kaia moved away from the soft tickle along her cheekbone, but it followed her insistently.

She tried to brush it away, but rough fingers tightened about hers and she opened her eyes to find Boromir at her bedside, looking utterly exhausted and a bit disheveled, his cheeks scruffy and unshaven. Even so, her eyes stung at the sight of him, at the sight she thought she’d not see again. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

His low voice made the stinging in her eyes even worse and without thinking, she tightened her fingers about his as she shook her head. “It’s a bit of a blur.”

“I found you out on Pelennor Fields.” His free hand came to rest on her hair, then moved lightly along it. “How did Faramir impress you into service?”

“He did no such thing. I offered.” She managed a smile despite the throbbing ache in her right arm. “I don't know how effective I was, but—”

“You’re here,” he interrupted softly, his hand going still on her hair, “so I’d said you were fairly effective as a warrior.”

“Where did you go? When I saw you at Osgiliath?”

“I tried to find the halflings who’d been there.”

“Sam and Frodo? Why?”

“It is a long story and one I’d take no pride in telling.”

She scowled up at him. “Boromir.”

“I will tell you when I return.”

“Return from where?”

“Osgiliath.”

“What?” She shook her head. “No, it was overrun by orcs. You’d have to be mad to return.”

“I have no choice.”

“What do you mean, you have no choice?”

He resumed his stroking of her hair. “We will talk about that when I return as well. We have a few more important things we need discuss before I leave, though.”

She swallowed hard, the stinging in her eyes even worse now. “Boromir…”

His thumb brushed along her forehead. “Why did you leave?”

She pulled away from him with a scowl and sat up. “Must we discuss this now?”

“Why not now? What point is there in putting it off longer?”

She looked about. “Well, there are others here, for starters.”

He glanced about at the infirmary. “No one is paying the slightest bit of attention to us.”

“Still. I’d rather not be the entertainment, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Fine.”

“Boromir, I know you’re angry, but—”

“Now, why would I have cause to be angry?”

His droll tone earned him a glare as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Is there somewhere else we might have this discussion? Because this room is far too full for my liking.”

“Very well.” He stepped back to allow her the room to stand, which she did slowly. Her legs were uninjured, but as she moved, a hot sting erupted in her shoulder, the slow burn that began there slowly slide down her arm, toward her wrist. An icy sweat prickled across her back, across her chest. A wave of nausea rose, one she swallowed hard against as she came completely upright. The last thing she wanted to do was faint in front of him.

Ioreth had given her a clean, simple linen gown to wear, the sleeves short enough for her to tend to Kaia’s wounds, which were two ugly slashes, one running the length of her upper arm to her elbow, the other curved over the top of her shoulder, deep enough that she could barely move her arm more than a few inches in either direction. Even something as simple as moving her fingers caused that hot sting to race through her, although Ioreth assured her that it would heal in time and with the proper care, she should regain full use of her arm.

Still, standing made her somewhat dizzy and Boromir must’ve seen her sway, for he reached for her.

Despite the pain and dizziness, she jerked away from him. “I’m fine.”

He withdrew his hand. “Suit yourself.”

“I will.”

“Fine.”

They glared at one another for a long moment and Kaia grew increasingly aware of the eyes now trained in their direction. “Must we do this here?” she growled.

“Where would you like to do this, then?”

She glared up at him. “This is not my home. And I know I’m asking much, but I would like a whit of privacy, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“Then follow me and I will find a place that will hopefully be more to your liking.”

He didn't wait for her to reply, but spun about and strode off. She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at his retreating figure, and then, when she was certain she would neither throw up nor faint, she went after him.

He left the infirmary and turned left around the corner, and as she came around that corner, she found him waiting. “Where are we going?”

“Where you will need not worry about prying eyes or listening ears.”

“And where might that be.”

He resumed his stride. “My flat.”

Kaia stopped dead in her tracks. “Your flat?”

“Aye.” He neither stopped nor slowed, but keep walking.

“But I—” She caught sight of several of the healer’s assistants coming from the infirmary and so hurried to catch up to Boromir. “I cannot go to your flat.”

“It is here or there, lady,” he growled, still not slowing. “So, take your pick.”

“Stubborn goat,” she grumbled, hurrying behind him once more.

He led her down along the sun-drenched corridor, made even brighter by the white stone that made up the walls. But she paid little heed to the walls or to the white stone floor, or anything, really, but his broad shoulders and back, and the way the light danced along his honey-gold hair. He had every right to be angry with her, she had little right to be angry back, but she was afraid of what he was going to say and her fear made fighting back her first instinct.

Still, her belly was alive with butterflies and twisted knots at the same time as he led her up to the level where she assumed his flat was located. As he paused before a white door, her mouth went dry and she thought she might actually be sick.

He unlocked that door and held it open with one hand, gesturing with his other. “After you.”

She marched by him was if her gut didn't churn and her head didn't feel as if it might burst from the force of her blood pounding through her temples when she stepped into the sitting room. His flat was exactly as she would expect it to be—tidy and minimally decorated, more functional than cozy. A far cry from the home she’d tried to create in her small, ramshackle cabin in the woods. But, it suited him.

The door banged shut behind her and she winced as he said, “Any time you wish to explain yourself, I’m all ears.”

“I owe you nothing,” she told him, turning to face him. His face bore no expression, but his eyes swirled dark gray with fury to give him away. Even so, she shrugged. “We are not a couple.”

“No, we aren’t. But do I ask so much?”

“I only did what men have done since the dawn of time,” she told him, biting back a wince as she folded her arms and stared up at him without blinking. The burn in her shoulder started slow, but quickly gained steam as it rolled down toward her elbow and back up again. Still, she ignored it, fighting to keep her focus on him.

Those dark gray eyes widened. “So, that is your reason? A payback of sorts? Have many men been gone from your bed with the sunrise?”

Her gut kinked sharply. “How dare you? I am no whore!”

“I never said you were!”

“You implied it!”

“I implied nothing. I but asked a question.”

Kaia narrowed her eyes at him, the urge to just haul off and punch him tightening within her. Her hands curled into fists, but remained at tucked into the crooks of her arms. “You are a jackass, Boromir.”

“Tell me something I don't already know.”

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I’m not. I’m agreeing with you there. But, I just want an answer and I do not think it too much to ask.” He stepped closer, his eyes hard and filled with anger. “Why did you run? You owe me at least that much of an explanation.”

“Because I had to,” she snapped, shaking her head. “I couldn’t risk it.”

“Risk what?”

She met his gaze, her cheeks growing warm as he arched one brow ever so slightly. Swallowing hard, she tried to force the words past her lips. “I—I just—”

“You just what? Say it, Kaia. Just tell me.”

“I just couldn't risk it.”

“Risk what? Stop dancing about it and just be honest with me.”

“This! I couldn't risk this because you were going to leave and I just couldn’t—”

He didn't let her finish, but bent to capture her lips with his in a kiss so filled with fire and passion, that those butterflies in her belly went wild and her blood went smoking through her veins. No one ever kissed her with this much hunger and desire and anger and lust and it all combined to make her melt into him, her hands coming to rest on his hips, tightening when his lips parted. Her heart skipped a beat as his tongue touched hers, as it swept along hers in a silken caress that caused her fingers to tightened further on him. But then the fire faded, his kiss growing soft and sweet and lingering when he broke away slowly, and pressed his forehead to hers as he whispered, “Will you risk it now?”

“Will you?”

“For you?” He nodded. “Yes.”

She pressed her lips together at the low growling purr of his voice and her throat tightened. “You—you would?”

“Without hesitation.” He bent to her once more. She melted against him once more, parting her lips, welcoming the sensual invasion of his tongue as it caressed hers. His hands came up to cradle her face, while her fingers curved about his thick wrists, tightening, her fingernails biting into his skin and her heart picked up its pace to thunder against her ribs, to send her blood whooshing through her veins.

His fingers moved gently along her cheeks, stretched up into her hair, slipping through it to gather it in his fists and hold her still as he slowly, thoroughly explored her mouth.

He released her then, sliding his arms about her waist to lift her against him, sighing into her mouth as she curved her legs about his hips. He pulled her hard against him, and it was her turn to sigh at the tingly rush of fire he sent streaking through her.

It was her turn to cup his face in her hands, the bristly scruff of beard scratchy against her palms, against her fingertips. So this was what it felt like to be held by him when he was whole, when she could feel the steely strength in his warrior’s body, holding her as if she weighed nothing. His reaction to her was as swift and powerful as hers was to him, as the thick ridge of his erection pressed ever so sweetly into the growing dampness of the ache at the apex of her thighs. She tightened her legs about him, smiling at the low moan that rose in his throat in response. His fingers tightened on the backs of her thighs, and she shivered as he shifted her slightly to free one hand, which slid along her outer thigh, dragging the smooth linen gown up in his wake.

He pressed her back against the door, his lips hot and furious and teasing as they seized hers again. The fiery passion in his kiss sliced through her, made her blood almost boil from the heat scorching her from the inside out. Kaia shoved her fingers into his hair, gripping it in tight fists to keep him from pulling away from her.

Not that he tried to do anything of the sort. If anything, her reaction seemed to inflame his passion even more. He pressed harder against her, giving a powerful thrust that had her shivering against him, her body humming with desire, tight knots of desire twisting deep inside her. She ached for him already, her head falling back against the door with a soft thunk as he broke the kiss to sweep another fiery one down over her chin, along her bowed neck. Down into the vee of her neckline.

The skirt rode higher, guided by his hand until he’d pushed it up above her hips and his fingers came warm and teasing along the back of her thigh, into the damp curls between them.

“Oh!” Her gasp broke free of its own as he slipped a finger inside her and stroked. She shivered around him, tugging on his hair as a breathless, “Boromir!” rose to her lips.

He teased her with no little gentleness, each stroke making her ache for him grow steadily worse and impossible to ignore. Her head spun wildly, her eyes closing of their own as he slid his finger free and his hand disappeared.

Then, her eyes snapped open as he positioned himself and offered up a powerful thrust that had her clinging to him, her fingers twisting harder in his hair as he filled her. She slid smoothly along the door, her thighs clamping against his sides, her body throbbing all around him as he brought her to the edge of madness and held her there, pulling away to offer up a slow, teasing smile and murmured, “I’ve missed you.”

She couldn't hold back a smile of her own. “I’ve missed you to—oh!”

He surged hard, and that was it. The knots burst. The pleasure erupted into a fiery rush of tingles that tore through her. She tightened around him, desperate for him to feel even an ounce of what he made her feel and when he moaned low in his through, she whispered, “Oh, yes…”

“Kaia!” His deep voice reverberated around them as he went over the edge, surrendering to her as he drove deep, shuddered hard, and came, crushing her between him and the door.

Kaia clung to him, let the wave wash over her, hot and sweet, and when he went still against her, she brushed his ear with her lips, laughing softly as he moaned and shivered from the sensation. His head fell forward, into the curve of her shoulder, his breath short and sharp as he whispered, “Oh… love… I need to sit…”

“Are you all right?”

He staggered back, sinking into the chair the corner beyond the door. His arms tightened about her as he sighed softly. “I’m fine. A bit tired, is all.”

She drew back to gaze down at him, smiling as she caught his face in her hands once more. “I missed you.”

A sleepy smile played at his lips. “As I missed you. Perhaps against my better judgment, but I did.”

“I went back,” she told him, tracing along the edge of his goatee along his chin. “But you’d already gone. I didn't think you’d return, so I moved on as well.” She let her fingers trail down along the side of his neck, along the embroidered collar of his tunic, smiling as he let out a soft sigh.

He opened his eyes then, and to her relief they were soft, more gray than blue as they met hers. “How did Faramir find you?”

“He snuck up on me in the woods. Not far from Osgiliath, actually. I almost ended up his prisoner, but managed to talk him into giving me the chance to prove myself.”

“Which I’ve no doubt you did,” he murmured, wincing as he slowly slipped from her.

She also winced at the trickle of his spend along the inside of her thighs. Carefully easing from his lap, she stood and looked about for something she could use to clean up. Boromir rose from the chair with a low groan and moved toward the door at the far end of the room. A bathing chamber, she supposed, as he emerged with a folded towel that he held out to her.

She accepted it, smiling as she said, “This is so messy.”

“It is, but it is so worth it.”

As he passed by her, he pressed a kiss into the top of her head. It was the simplest of gestures, and yet she felt it clear through to the center of her being as she watching him sink into the chair once more. “Boromir?”

“What?”

“What happens now?”

He glanced toward the window on the far side of the room. Twilight had set in, the darkness softly purple beyond the panes. “I know not, to be honest. Faramir and I will be heading out in the morning, returning to Osgiliath.”

She froze, the damp towel going still as she stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

“We’ve been ordered to retake it.”

“It was overrun with orcs, though. I cannot say how many, maybe thousands. And yet you’re going back?”

“I’ve no choice,” he told her softly. Then, he held out a hand. “May I, if you’re finished?”

“Oh, of—of course.” She pressed the towel into his waiting hand and stood there, not exactly certain where she should sit. “But, who ordered you do this?”

“My father.” He made use of the towel, then rose to bring it back into the bathing chamber and as he returned, he was fastening his trousers as he strode back to her. “He ordered me and Faramir to retake it, so we will leave at sunrise.”

“Boromir, no… you cannot mean—”

“I was not given the choice, Kaia. I was given the order and I will see it done.”

“Let me go with you.”

“Absolutely not.” He caught her face in his hands, his thumbs slow as they swept along her cheeks. “You will remain here, where it’s safe for now.”

She shook her head, her eyes stinging once more. “If something should happen to you—”

“I will be fine,” he told her, his voice a low purring growl.

“You don’t know that.”

“It isn’t up for discussion,” he replied softly. “Now, we can either fight about it some more and then go to bed or we can skip the fighting altogether and just get naked this time and go to bed. Which would you prefer?”

“Boromir!”

Her belly fluttered as he offered up a boyish grin and, without warning, swept her up into his arms and spirited her into his bedchamber, where he bent to press her down into the soft, comfortable mattress even as he murmured, “You are impossible, do you know this?”

Kaia wound her arms about his neck to pull him down flush against her. “Why? Because I’d rather keep you here?”

“Then why did you really run?”

He asked it softly, without a hint of anger, only wisps of confusion curling about his words. Reaching up, she tucked a loose lock of honey-gold hair behind his ear and shrugged as she replied, “I was scared.”

“Of me?”

“No. I think… I’ve been on my own for so long, I’m not so certain I know how to be with anyone else.”

“Tell me something.” He held her gaze. “Was there someone else in your village? A husband? A lover?”

“No,” she shook her head, “there wasn’t. At least, not entirely. But, this is hardly the place to discuss that, don't you think?”

“Only if you’re thinking of him while you’re with me.”

“There is no him, Boromir. It was—it hadn’t gotten to that stage yet.” She smiled up at him, her fingers lingering along his scruffy cheek. “What about you? How is it no woman has laid claim to you yet? Or, is there something you haven’t told me?”

To her relief, he chuckled. Chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve never felt the need to settle down. Wife. Children. They weren’t for me. And I’ve found that with most women, they are fine with that, until they change their minds and assume they will change mine.”

“I imagine they see you as quite the catch. The steward’s handsome son, the brave warrior. I image you break hearts on a daily basis. All of them hoping they’ll be the one to win the heir’s noble heart.”

To her surprise a hint of darkness crept into his eyes. “I’d not use those words to describe me.”

“Which words?”

“Brave. Noble. They do not describe me at all.”

“Well, that is because you are humble as well.”

“Kaia,” he eased off her, shifted to grip the hem of the staid blue and gray quilt folded at the bed’s foot, and drew it up over them as he stretched out alongside her, “I am not the man you seem to think me to be and while I’d rather not think about why, it isn’t fair to you to pretend otherwise.”

She eased onto her side, wincing at the hot sting that crept up her arm as she tried to brace on it. At first, she thought she’d simply power through the pain and forget about it, but the pain wouldn’t allow itself to be forgotten. Her arm trembled. The sting worsened and left her with no choice but to sink back into the pillows and their sweet-smelling, clean linen cases. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I am neither noble nor brave and modesty has nothing to do with it, either.”

“What happened? Does it have to do with the halflings? Is that why you were so desperate to find them?”

He said nothing, but just stared up at the ceiling. Kaia turned from him to do the same, looking up at the clean white stone, a far cry from the dingy stone of Osgiliath. Stained beams stretched across the ceiling, and the windowpanes in the windows along the eastern wall were intact, small rippled squares that let sunlight spill across the stone floor. Across from Boromir’s bed, a hearth, large enough for her to stand up in, was dark and above it, on the white stone mantel, stood a scattering of miniatures in oval gilt frames.

She turned back to him just as he said, “Yes. But not the halflings you think I mean. There were four of them, when we started out. And the Uruk-hai grabbed two of them.”

“They were the ones I saw in the clearing, weren’t they?”

He nodded slowly. “Merry and Pippin, yes. I got on with them, had taught them the basics of defending themselves, only I never though the time would come when I would fail to protect them.”

“But, why would you need protect them? Any of them? That’s what I’m confused about. Why was a soldier in the company of four halflings?”

“There were nine of us to begin with. The hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, a Ranger, and a wizard.”

“It sounds like an interesting group.”

“It was, and we all had a single purpose. But, they did not know what I was planning to do.” He looked over at her, his eyes pained and added, “I was tasked by my father with going to Rivendell in order to find the Ring of Sauron and return here, to give it to my father and let Gondor have the glory of defeating Sauron with it.

“One of the hobbits was in possession of it, though, and so my task became to see him to Mordor, to Mount Doom, where the Ring would be destroyed. And I was fine with that. I gave my word that I’d see it done. And I would have. I fully intended to see it through.

“But, the Ring… it would not let me be, would not leave me in peace. It whispered to me, and little by little, the whisper grew louder.”

“The whisper?”

He nodded slowly. “There is no other way to describe it. A soft, dark, malicious whisper that was as seductive as it was evil. All I’d hear in my head was that voice telling me the Ring should be mine. That the honor of restoring Gondor and all of Middle Earth to its glory should be mine. And I tried to ignore it, tried to keep in mind what I was supposed to do. But that whisper grew louder and louder… until it simply would not let me be at peace.”

His voice trailed off and an uneasy silence settled about them. Kaia wanted to urge him to go on, but had the feeling it wouldn’t make him tell his story any faster. Instead, she reached for his hand, resting against his stomach, and slid hers over it, smiling as he linked his fingers with hers and they tightened gently about hers.

“And I gave in,” he finally whispered.

“Gave in?”

“Yes. I could resist the lure no longer. I wanted the glory. I wanted all of it. And when I tried to convince him that I should have the Ring, he would not give it to me. So,” he shifted onto his side, propping his head on his fist, “I tried to take it. I tried to overpower someone half my size in order to take the Ring for myself. And had he not gotten away from me, I’ve no doubt I’d have harmed him in order to take it.”

Although she knew where his tale would lead, it still surprised her to a certain degree, for the Boromir she’d come to know what neither treacherous nor duplicitous. He was the image of honor. So, for him to fall prey to the seduction of the Ring meant it had to beyond powerful, beyond the realm of resistance, no matter how great a man’s honor might be.

She met his gaze. “Frodo?”

He nodded. “Frodo.”

“And is that why you went after him at Osgiliath? To take it again?”

“No. I’ve done nothing that caused me as much as shame as my actions at Amon Hen have. And aside from Frodo, you are the only one who knows the truth about me, about what I did. And I would not fault you in the slightest if you wanted only to walk out of this flat and never speak to me again.”

She remembered Sam’s taunt to Faramir about what happened to Boromir. He knew. Frodo must have told him. She kept that to herself as she gaze back at Boromir. He looked like a man in agony at that moment, knowing full well the what the consequences of his actions could be, and perfectly willing to accept them, no matter what.

But, she also knew him and knew that, when not under the spell of the powerful Ring, Boromir was every bit as noble and honorable as she described him. He was a good man, despite his flaws, and having his father put the pressure on him to begin with must have weighed every bit as heavily upon him as the task itself had.

“That’s a bit much,” she told him, reaching up to curve her hand against his cheek. “The draw must have been so very strong, for you to try to overpower him, for the Boromir I’ve come to know would not look to harm someone who did not deserve it.”

His hand came up to cover hers. “Kaia, don’t make excuses for what I did.”

“I’m not. I simply do not believe that you would fall prey to it again.”

“I felt its pull,” he confessed softly, his thumb grazing along her hand. “Before I even saw Frodo in the tunnel. I knew he was still there, for the Ring whispered to me. It was low and almost unintelligible, but I heard it and it beckoned me.”

“And did you try to take it again?”

He shook his head slowly. “I did not. I turned and made my way back before he even knew I was there. And it’s probably for the best, as I doubt he’d want to see me again.”

“So, you were stronger than the pull.”

A hint of a smile came to his lips. “I was this time.”

“Tell me, if you were trying to take the Ring, how did you come across the Uruk-hai?”

“I heard them. Frodo had run and I assume he came across the others—Sam and Merry and Pippin—and I cannot say where he ran after that. I heard the orcs and knew the others were in danger so I came to their aid.”

“Their aid?”

He nodded. “Despite what I’d taught them, which was only the basics, really, Merry and Pippin weren’t fighters. None of the halflings are—or were—and I knew they would not stand a chance alone. So, I jumped between them and the orcs and held the Uruk-hai off as best I could.” A wry smile curved his lips. “And you know what happened after that.”

“Wait,” she rose onto her elbow again, this time ignoring the pain as she met his gaze steadily, “you mean you intentionally put yourself in that danger?”

“I had to, Kaia. I’d almost killed Frodo. I had to do something, had to keep the other two safe. But, they felled me and I have no idea what happened to them, so I suppose I failed them as well.”

“If Sam and Frodo got away safely, perhaps the others did as well.”

“I have no way of knowing. I only know if there were too many for me to fight off and I don’t know how I didn't die there. I imagine Aragorn and the others must’ve heard the horn and come to my aid, but I cannot recall it. All I remember is crawling over to that tree where you found me and then, I heard you.”

He shifted then, coming over her once more, easing her onto her back again. “Why were you there?” he whispered as he came flush against her, his lips brushing hers lightly.

“I was hunting, stalking a deer. I heard the orcs’ footsteps and ducked into the brush. Then, I was curious, so I moved closer and as I did, I saw you come bounding through the trees with your sword drawn and you threw yourself into battle. Then,” a soft laugh bubbled to her lips, “you grabbed your horn and the first blast startled me and I lost my footing. I went tumbling ass over teakettle down the embankment. By the time I’d gotten all of my things gathered, they’d grabbed Merry and Pippin and were going off in the opposite direction.

“I thought perhaps you’d gone after them, but in the quiet, I heard something.” She reached up to tuck that same wayward lock of hair behind his ear. “It was you. Against the trunk of that tree.”

“They could’ve come back for you.”

“They didn't know I was there and even if they had, I cared not. You were still alive, so, I grabbed you and dragged you back to the cabin. And I apologize now for the number of times I dropped you. You are far heavier than I thought you’d be.”

He grinned. “I cannot even recall it, so there is no need to apologize. I am only thankful you were selfless enough to do it.”

“You were cute.”

“I must have looked like a porcupine.”

“You did. But a very handsome one.”

“Well, that’s something.”

He dipped to her, his lips soft and teasing as they moved against hers. She wound her arms about his neck, tugging him closer still. “I am glad I heard you,” she murmured.

“As am I,” he whispered back as his lips claimed hers and all further conversation was forgotten.

#Lord of the Rings #LOTR AU #Boromir #Boromir fic #LOTR fanfic #Lord of the Rings Fanfic #Fan fiction #LOTR fanfiction #AU #Boromir x OC #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Sean Bean #Everybody Lives #Sons of Gondor

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tathrin · 1 year

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Been doing some world-building for the Gimli Dark Lord of Erebor AU, and I think I have the general background events figured out at last. Anyone want to read way too many sloppily-written words of backstory for this unhinged canon-divergence nightmare fic? Boy are you in luck if so!

Note that any of this is subject to change until and unless actually directly referenced in the fic itself. This is very much proto-rough-draft stuff right now, just sort of brainstorming-via-prose. (Also obviously potential spoilers abound, in the sense of “things that have already happened but haven’t been revealed or discussed by the characters,” although it does stop some considerable amount of time before the day the story actually opens.) But I know there are a few folks who’ve expressed interest in knowing more about this AU, and I would love to know people’s thoughts on what I’ve come up with so far. Especially if you see a logistical issue or plot-hole that needs to be paved!

Also it’s probably less than wholly coherent (this was largely typed on my phone at work, shhh), but do let me know if you hit any part that’s just completely unfathomable and I’ll try to clarify it.

Anyway...

We start with Boromir taking the One Ring from Frodo on Amon Hen. He runs off in something of a panic (at this point in his own mind he sees himself as too far gone to do anything else, and the Ring runs with that—they'd never forgive you now!—and he goes racing off pell-mell), unaware that the others are about twenty minutes away from being ambushed by uruk-hai—although it is that fight which will give him the necessary lead-time to escape.

Frodo was injured (hand broken, knocked out) in the struggle over the Ring. The others find him after the orc fight just waking up, having been hidden by his cloak from the battle. Aragorn tends his wounds while Legolas and Gimli search for Merry and Pippin; can't find them. The others join the search: nothing. Too much ground, too many footprints, too few clues. They search for hours, but—but the Ring gets farther away with every minute. They must pursue it, must pursue Boromir. But to do so means abandoning Merry and Pippin who may or may not even be alive. What do they do?

Sam of course wants to keep looking, but will defer to Frodo. Frodo would like to search more, but his duty (and the Ring) tug at him to chase Boromir, even though all he wants to do is find his friends and make sure they're all right. Loyal Gimli of course is aghast at the idea of abandoning his friends until he knows for sure that they are dead; Legolas, warrior of Mirkwood, understands both the stakes and the bitterness of such sacrifice all too well, and votes to do what they must and chase the Ring. Aragorn is torn…but duty to the Quest wins in the end, at least in part because he is sure that they must be dead already and their hacked bodies lying somewhere in the brush of Amon Hen. (They are not: they are being carried into Rohan on the backs of uruk-hai. They will escape to Fangorn, and the Ents, and join the march to Isengard. But their friends will not come there to find them. They will not see the Fellowship again.)

The rest chase Boromir, but they are too far behind. They will not catch him. The Ring will go to Gondor, and to Denethor, and hope will not come again to the White City.

Gandalf will go to Edoras alone. He will meet Merry and Pippin in Fangorn, but the rest of the Fellowship will not know that he returned until the moment when he leaves again. In Meduseld, he will pull Théoden out from Saruman's spell, and at the Hornberg he will bring Erkenbrand to save the survivors of Helm's Deep as they huddle in the keep beneath the unflinching assault of the White Hand. Éomer is dead, with no dwarf there to save him. Théoden lives, but as a broken man: he lost his son and he lost his nephew, and he could not save his people, but rather had to be pulled from the trap of his walls by saviors led by the White Wizard. It does not matter: his death will find him on the plains outside the White City regardless.

But before that: Boromir arrives in Minas Tirith on March 2nd. Théoden has just been healed; the Entmoot has not yet concluded. The rest of the Fellowship are at most two days behind Boromir. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas could ostensibly travel faster than him, but they have two Hobbits to bring with them, one of whom was injured, and they lingered long in search of Merry and Pippin; also the Ring, far from being a burden that drags at his feet as it does with Frodo, speeds his steps and strengthens him when he might otherwise seek rest, because he is doing what it wants. They have made good time, but not good enough to overtake him; not good enough to stop him.

Gandalf, as a Ringbearer, senses the moment that Denethor claims the One Ring…and so does Frodo.

"Wait," he cries, staggering to a halt. He drops to his knees clutching his head, his heart; trying to clutch his very soul. His shoulder burns like ice. "Wait," he says, "it's too late."

Aragorn stares at him in horror. "Sauron has the Ring?"

"No," Frodo says. "Someone else…a Man, I think. A tall Man, he looks old. He feels very old. I don't think he is, though. I think he…I think he is someone very important. Not a king, but something like a king, I think," he says, and Aragorn sinks to the ground beside the Hobbit. His face is gray and grim. Frodo tries to offer him a reassuring smile out of instinct, but he cannot quite manage it; instead his face curls in a thoughtful frown. "He reminds me of you, a little, Strider," Frodo continues, "but…but not, also. Very much not like you, in some ways, I think. But I saw a White City, and a dead tree, and the Ring was on his hand, and…and it is his. Aragorn, the Ring is his."

"Denethor, " Aragorn says, and his voice is a lament. He bows his head. "Alas for Gondor, then, for Denethor has claimed the One Ring."

"What does that mean?" Legolas asks. "What do we do next?"

"What can we do?" Aragorn shrugs, and stands, and he looks older than he ever has as he turns his face south towards Minas Tirith. "The choice has been taken from us. Now all that is left is to stand with Gondor in the war that will come, or flee before Sauron's victory."

"But Gondor cannot defeat him," Gimli says.

"No," says Aragorn. "They cannot. But I will pledge them my sword nonetheless."

In the end, they all decide to go on with heavy hearts to Minas Tirith. Denethor welcomes them with smiles and poorly-concealed suspicion. (He does not want them here, but it is better to have them under his eye, where he is the one in control.) Boromir swaggers to cover his feelings of shame. (He does not want them here; he does not manage quite to meet their eyes.) Faramir is fascinated by the Halflings especially, and it is he who manages to coax the truth out of Frodo and Sam about exactly how Boromir really got his hands on the One Ring. (He is grieved, but less surprised than he wishes he was; Faramir knows his brother, and he knows furthermore that he has been acting strangely since he returned from Rivendell. This truth explains much.)

The Beacons have now been lit, although it will be some days before Rohan arrives, if they can come at all; if they had come sooner, perhaps Gandalf would have stopped Aragorn and Frodo from passing the gates of the White City and placing themselves in Denethor's power. But Gandalf was not there, and his friends still think him dead. So Aragorn and Frodo enter Minas Tirith, but they do not bring hope with them when they do. Denethor is already lost to the Ring, and to the visions of glory and dominion that it feeds him.

Sauron, of course, also knew the moment someone claimed his Ring. So Mordor marches to war against Minas Tirith…but Sauron is not committed to this war. He knows where the real battle is being fought, and he has already decided that he will win it by agreeing to lose. This is merely the necessary process to make his surrender convincing. So he sends an army, and Minas Tirith fights, and the Maker of the One Ring strives in his mind against the Master of the One Ring, and Aragorn can do nothing to stop Denethor from dooming them all.

Boromir rides at the head of Gondor's army, and Aragorn rides beside him with Andúril in hand, and the people whisper; but Aragorn makes no move to claim the kingship. Gondor's army stands against Mordor, but slowly they are pushed back to the gates of the White City. Their lines are beginning to falter on the third day of battle when dawn finally breaks to show the Riders of Rohan coming up over the grass, the Grey Company (who came to Rohan seeking Aragorn, and found Théoden instead, and were persuaded by Gandalf that the most likely place to find Aragorn will be Gondor) with them—but there are many orcs yet, and the Corsairs of Umbar are coming up the river, too, and there are Nazgûl flying out of the east towards the battlefield. Three of them converge on Théoden—but it is not the king they seek, but rather the counselor riding beside him: Gandalf Greyhame, wielder of the Ring of Fire.

Gandalf yells for Rohan's forces to flee from these foes which are beyond their strength. Many do; Théoden stays. He masters the bitter fear the Nazgûl bring and defends Gandalf from their blades, until one pierces his shoulder. He goes down to his knees with a cry, and still he raises his blade one last time…and so he dies beside the wizard when Gandalf uses all the power within him to destroy the three Nazgûl Lords and a goodly portion of the armies around him, too.

The surviving Rohirrim are rallied by a young soldier they knew as Dernhelm, who throws off her helmet and reveals herself to be Éowyn of the House of Eorl. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she leads her people back into battle. They follow her with a roar and the strength of their spears and shields sends many orcs of Mordor running.

Then Denethor stands on the battlements and holds his hand aloft in a blaze of fiery light, and he commands the forces of Mordor to cower before him. And they do.

It is in that moment that Aragorn knows hope is lost.

The battle ends with most of the orcs slain, the rest fleeing either back to Mordor or into the wild. The Easterlings and Corsairs are taken prisoner, or strike out on a desperate flight for their distant homes. (Denethor will deal with them, he decides, once his business with Sauron is finished; for now, let them flee.) Aragorn walks alone through the ashes of the Wizard's fall, which none other will dare brave. He retrieves the Rings left behind by Gandalf's inferno and takes Narya for his own: not because he wants to, but because he trusts no other there to wield it, and he does not believe that it will be left unclaimed if he does not. He means to bring it to Rivendell, and to give it to Elrond to bestow upon one of his advisors (most likely Glorfindel, he thinks; Glorfindel would be a good choice for that Ring, if he can brace himself to face fire on such close terms once again)…

But Denethor does not approve. He demands all the Rings; Aragorn refuses to give him any. He says that those of the Ringwraiths were born by Kings of Men once, and while they do not know which kings Gandalf burned, still Aragorn has thus the closest claim to those Rings than anyone there, for he is descended from Kings of Men, including some who once ruled Númenor and were lured into becoming Ringwraiths by Sauron's words. He will not give up those Rings; and as for Narya, he will return it to the elves, for it was an elvish ring before it was gifted to the Wizard.

Denethor declares that he is the Master of all the Rings now, and Aragorn will hand them over; Aragorn refuses. They match wills, and for a moment seem almost evenly matched: Denethor has the One Ring, which was built to command all the others, but Aragorn is mightier than Denethor, and he has not worn his spirit low contending with Sauron, and the Three were never fully dominated by the Dark Lord. They are evenly matched, for a moment… Then while they strive, on Denethor's quiet command, Boromir murders Aragorn. (He is horrified, later, to realize that he struck from behind; horrified to realize that he slew a friend. But in the moment, all he could feel was the compulsion of the Ring and the bloodlust of his own fury that Aragorn would dare defy his father, the Steward who ruled the land which the descendants of the kings abandoned.) Denethor takes the four Rings in triumph, and he gives to Boromir the Ring of Fire still wet with Aragorn's blood.

The secret of Aragorn's death is one they will not keep for long, but for now, none know what happened in the great hall between the Steward and the man who might have been his king.

Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin are back at Edoras; they left Isengard with Gandalf and the Rohirrim, but were not carried to battle with the rest of their forces. Frodo and Sam have decided to go there to seek their friends, since they will be of little use in the battle at the Black Gates, they figure—but Denethor has something else in mind for the Hobbit who once carried the Ring. He asks Frodo to stay at his side while the end of the war is fought, and Frodo cannot find a polite way to decline and Sam will not leave Frodo's side. So they stay in Gondor, while the survivors of the army ride out to break the Black Gate and throw Sauron down from his Dark Tower.

Boromir, with Narya on his hand, leads their forces; Faramir, now wearing one of the Nine, rides with him. Legolas and Gimli notice that Aragorn is not with the army, and the Ring he briefly claimed is now worn by Boromir, and they are distressed—but what can they do? The war is here at hand, and there is no time for questions now (just as Denethor arranged, of course). The army rides to the Black Gates, and Sauron's forces pour forth to battle…

And then Sauron himself strides onto the field. Terror grips the forces of Gondor and Rohan…and then Sauron kneels. His Nazgûl kneel beside him. He surrenders his forces and offers himself a prisoner to Gondor; a prisoner to the Lord of the Rings.

No one wants to go near him, to touch him. Even bold Boromir quails, the Ring in his mind shrieking in terror of the maia who would have mastered it. Eventually it is Faramir who walks forward, and the sight of his little brother showing such bravery stirs Boromir's courage and he follows, and together the two Captains of Gondor take Sauron prisoner.

The army rides back to Minas Tirith in escort, while Faramir and a smaller force stay to claim and investigate Barad-dûr. One of the Nazgûl stays with them to play (terrifying) guide; the other three go back with Sauron as prisoners, although no one wants to bind them or go near them, and in the end they march back under their own power and by their own will, or at least that of their master, rather than under guard or bindings (three Nazgûl died to Gandalf and there are two currently stationed in Dol Guldur leading the war against Mirkwood, Dale, Erebor, and Lórien, so there were only four left in Mordor). Sauron is brought to Minas Tirith as a prisoner, but he walks in with a faint smirk on his face and his head unbowed, with three Nazgûl framing him in escort, and there are some who cannot help but think he looks more like a conqueror than a captive when he crosses through the white stone gates that once held back his Shadow and kneels politely before the Steward.

Sauron is no longer fair to look at, no; he lost that seeming in the wreckage of Númenor. But there is a grim beauty to his fell features nonetheless, the sort of cruel and regal beauty of hatred and power. He does not look fair, he does not look good—but he looks strong, to be sure. In a way, he even looks faintly kingly standing there before the unclaimed throne of the king. A tyrant of a king, yes; but a king, to be sure. It will be Sauron, in fact, who eventually convinces Denethor to claim that throne, since the kings will never be coming home now, and does not the Lord of the Rings merit a throne, even if he is not (never will be) a king?

It will also be Sauron who, having flattered the story out of Denethor, spreads the truth of what happened to their would-be king through the White City…although it will not be he who tells Faramir. That will be Boromir himself, in the cold hours one night, wracked with guilt and trying to invent excuses to lift the weight of it from his mind. Faramir will be horrified, but he will not speak out against his brother's actions then; he will have already learned, by then, when to keep silent under the weight of Denethor's dominion. There is a reason his father gave him a Ring, after all, and it was not because he thought Faramir deserved its power.

But that is later; for now, there are the few remaining members of the Fellowship to consider.

Frodo, having carried the Ring so far, has fallen under Denethor's sway. He will fall farther, soon: Denethor will gift him with the second of the three Nine Rings taken from the charnel of the battlefield, and will send him back west to rule the Shire and all its surrounding lands in Gondor's name. Sam will go with him, of course, because Sam is loyal and will remain loyal; even as Frodo falls deeper and deeper under the sway of the Ring, and becomes more and more of a wraith—more and more of a monster—at Denethor's hand, heartbroken Sam will always be loyal. Even as he grieves for what the Shire becomes under Frodo's increasingly merciless rule, and for the ever-growing distance and cruelty of his corrupted master, he cannot help but stay loyal.

Aragorn's friends and kinsmen do not know exactly what happened to him, but they know that some foul play must have been involved; they know, too, that their own lives are under threat in Gondor. They know too much, and their loyalty is not and has never been to Denethor. He is busy now with Sauron and with Frodo, but he will not stay busy forever. They need to go now, while they still can—but none of their attempts to politely take their leave are accepted, for while Denethor has more important things to deal with right now he also does mean to deal with them eventually, and intends to keep them cooling their heels in his city until he can spare them the proper attention. So he plans victory feasts, and pretends great grief at the notion of their parting, and says that they must stay until after Aragorn is laid in state in a great funeral as befits Isildur's Heir, and so on and so forth; one excuse after another after another, all fairly-couched and on the surface far too noble and justified to balk at. But they know it is a pretense, and they know they are running out of time.

(And Sauron is in the city, too. And if he is in chains…well, he has been in chains before. It did not stop him working evil then, and the Dúnedain know those stories well. They need to leave.)

So one night the survivors of the Grey Company leave Minas Tirith under cover of darkness. They go on foot for all that it pains the Dúnedain to abandon their loyal steeds, because they know they would not be able to sneak out with the horses. Legolas and Gimli go with them—or at least, Gimli was supposed to be with them. But Gimli stayed, because he feared that he would slow them down. Worse, he feared that he would slow Legolas down. He remembers how tireless the elf was during the pursuit of Boromir; remembers thinking that if Legolas had been unfettered by mortal limitations, he would have been able to outpace him, and perhaps all this would have gone differently. He thinks about the fact that Mirkwood is not so far to the north, and how Legolas could probably cover that distance in a little more than a week if he were alone; he thinks of how much slower he would go, if he had a dwarf in tow, and how likely that delay would get him killed, and so Gimli stays.

The rest of them disappear into the night in their grey cloaks, fading into the wilds as only those who walk with the light tread of Rangers or elven-kind might do.

Gimli begs the sons of Elrond to lie for him, and so it is not until they are many miles from the White City that Legolas discovers his friend did not come with them, and by then it is too late to go back—and even if he did, what would he do? Drag Gimli away with him? The dwarf chose to stay, and chose not even to say farewell. Well, that was his choice to make; Legolas cannot unmake it for him.

So Legolas returns to Mirkwood, bereft and bewildered by Gimli's betrayal, and throws himself into the doomed fight against the Shadow there. Galadriel did not throw down the walls of Dol Guldur, after all; she, too, knew the moment that Denethor claimed the One Ring for his own, and she knew what that would mean for Lothlórien. She and Celeborn did not lead their forces across the river to aid Thranduil; they stayed in their forest, and prepared for the end.

Without Lórien and Nenya to dwindle the forces of the Enemy, Erebor fared poorly in the war. The dwarves nonetheless held out long in the siege against the orcs and goblins of Mordor, but when Denethor sent forces from Gondor to aid the armies that had once been Sauron's and were now his, the dwarves thought that the Men were coming to their assistance. They sallied forth from the mountain, meaning to trap the orcs and goblins between the two armies…and were instead subjected to a vicious slaughter, as Mordor and Gondor fought side-by-side against them.

Denethor told Gimli, who had stayed in Minas Tirith with the thought that he would act as a delay on whatever pursuit would inevitable follow Legolas and the Grey Company, that his people's army has been decimated and the surviving dwarves are trapped in their mountain under a siege they have no hopes of either outlasting or escaping. He tells him that Dain is dead, and all the line of Durin, and every person living in the Lonely Mountain will be slaughtered if they continue to defy Gondor…or he can claim lordship of the mountain, and make peace with Gondor on Erebor's behalf, and so save them from destruction.

Gimli accepts the terms, because he sees no other choice. He accepts the Ring that Denethor insists he take (the Ring that once belonged to Durin, and which was reclaimed from Barad-dûr by Faramir's scouts, and brought to Denethor as Master of the Rings), if he is to be a vassal-lord of Gondor, for the same reason: he has not choice. He does what must be done, and he goes to Erebor, and he saves his people by damning them to Gondor's rule.

Dale was sacked and devastated, and Denethor declares it to be a vassal state of Erebor now, under the dominion of the dwarves. The farms of Dale deliver their crops to the Lonely Mountain, which disperses a share of the harvest back to them according to Denethor's will. Mirkwood belongs to the Nazgûl in Dol Guldur, but still has bands of elves in its trees, fighting and dying.

(As for Lórien…that story is told elsewhere.)

Merry and Pippin were in Edoras, and do not learn of what happened to everyone else until Queen Éowyn returns with the few survivors of Rohan's army. She will not be bound by a Ring yet, but in less than a year Denethor will demand more obsequience than he thinks Rohan is offering. (Partly this will be due to his own paranoia, earned under long years of striving against the Shadow with the palantir; part of this will be due to the bold temperament of Rohan in general and Éowyn in specific, and their dislike of all things that reek of the Shadow; the last part will be due to Sauron whispering in his ear, sowing division between the realms of Men.) Éowyn will be forced to take a Ring, the third of the three Nine Rings that was found in the ashes of Gandalf's death, and Rohan will now fall fully under Gondor's domination.

But that is later; for now, there is Saruman to consider. He slips out of Isengard, when the Ents tire of watching him. Knowing that he cannot oppose Gondor now that Denethor has claimed the One Ring and a victory over Sauron as well, he slips away to his fallback position in the Shire. That goes well enough for him, at first—but then Frodo and Sam come back from Gondor with a Ring on Frodo's hand and no mercy in his heart. Saruman does not know what to make of this quasi-wraith of a Halfling, and he makes the mistake of treating him like an ordinary Hobbit. Frodo is no longer someone who can be cowed, at least not by anything less than the One Ring itself: in his wrath at what the wizard has done to the Shire, he destroys Saruman using the power of his Ring, and so tips his soul entirely into its domination.

Sam remains loyal, though. Sam will always remain loyal to his Frodo.

#gimli dark lord of erebor au #lotr au #my writing #my stuff #lotr #fanfiction #gimli #frodo #boromir #denethor #sauron #legolas #aragorn #faramir #eowyn #samwise #boromir lives

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aidaronan · 2 years

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37 for Steddie? Love your stuff btw, the moment in Its Not A Big Deal where they play the solo game is so sweet and takes up so much space in my brain

Hey thank you!! 😭❤️ 37. things you said through someone else For a while, the only visitors Eddie's allowed are doctors, cops, and a state-appointed lawyer. The rest of the time, they keep him in a blank white room all by himself. They don't even let him have a book to read. Thank fuck he's always had one hell of an imagination. He passes the hours by imagining whole worlds, playing out scenarios in those. And when those worlds get boring, he imagines the world he lives in, versions where they didn't lock him up like some brutal serial killer. Or futures where they let him go and he gets to do all those things he always wanted to do. "It'll be better for you if you sign a confession," Brad says. Eddie hates Brad, who clearly thinks Eddie's guilty and is only there because he has to be. "Better for who exactly?" Eddie asks, and that's how the conversation goes again and again. Until one day someone says "lawyer" and Eddie looks up expecting to see Brad in his ill-fitting brown suit only to find someone who is very much not Brad.

Standing in his doorway is a man in his early 50s, the early 50s of someone who can afford healthcare and a gym membership. His graying hair is cut simply and precisely. His navy blue suit fits him like a glove, and it looks like if a wrinkle went anywhere near it, it'd fistfight that wrinkle and win. Simply put, the guy looks fucking expensive, from his silk pocket square to his shiny leather briefcase. "Hello, Mr. Munson. I'm David Carnell of Carnell & Barret Legal, and I have been hired to represent you."

Eddie blinks several times. He has a feeling that Uncle Wayne could sell everything they've ever owned in their life and not be able to afford this guy. "I don't understand." "I'm your new lawyer." "No, I get that part. Who hired you exactly?" "I've been Mitch Harrington's attorney for over twenty years now. I believe you know his son. I have a letter here for you by the way. I definitely made sure the guards didn't know about it, so you'd better flush it after reading." Wincing a bit at the pull in his stitches, Eddie snatches the letter like it might disappear, ripping into it. Eddie, I had to blackmail the hell out of my dad for this and I'll definitly have to move out now but Carnell is the kind of lawyer who hates to lose so he won't. Everyone misses you. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. Me.

Hang in there dude. We're still harrasing the goverment about just getting you out of there without all this but Carnell is a solid plan b. Joyce and Hopper (not dead! weird right?) are in on it now too though and Joyce is scary when she wants to be. Just don't give up whatever you do. Becuase we won't.

Besides I didn't get to see you play and I want to. I really really want to.

Dinner on me when you get out. Anything you want. I'm starting a steak and lobster fund right now.

Friends? Steve

"Can I say something back?" Eddie asks, and Carnell sets his briefcase down and pops it open, removing a tape recorder and a legal pad. He presses record.

"Go ahead."

"Uh... Yeah, Steve. Friends. Like Frodo and Sam. You can ask Henderson who they are if you don't know." Eddie thumbs the letter in his hand. "And thank you, Steve. All of you. Tell everyone I miss them too."

At Eddie's nod, Carnell stops the tape. "Are you ready to get started?" "Yeah." "Before I press record again, Mr. Munson... Steve Harrington insists you're innocent, but between you and me and no one else, I need to know. If there's evidence that could come out, I need to be ready." Eddie bites his tongue and pushes down the sick, roiling feeling that comes up every time he thinks too long about Chrissy or any of the others. "I'm innocent." "Good. Because I can tell you having seen the case they've got fuck all for evidence right now." Carnell grins at him with all his perfect teeth, and Eddie decides you don't have to like a shark. You just have to sit back and let it deal with the wolves. He wonders if it'd be too much to insist on candlelight at that steak and lobster dinner. Because staring at Carnell's gold cuff links, it's pretty hard not to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

#steddie #pre-steddie #ask game #drabble #idk what this one is but it sure is #lol #steve calling his dad like remember when you had that woman over when mom was at her cousin's funeral because i do

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questionablequeeries · 1 year

Text

Fade To Black by Metallica

Slamming, screeching, terror. A rope cut short. Ready for the end.

“Hey, Munson, you okay?” Steve asked, and Eddie couldn’t help but to notice the concern in his voice as they marched dutifully to Lover’s Lake.

“Well, I’ve been better, Harrington.” Eddie sighed, using the name like a shield, “I’m either a Satanic serial killer or a coward depending on who you ask.” He kept his voice soft, didn’t want the kids to join the Munson Pity Party.

“Those people are wrong on both sides.” Steve insisted. Eddie cast a curious glance sideways to the former jock, former sailor, and current shockingly nice guy, “You’re coming with us to face the unknown. I think that’s pretty brave, just like…” His face screwed up in thought, “Froyo?”

Eddie actually laughed, “I swear you’re fucking with me.” He grinned, delighting in the slightly sheepish smirk he got back, “If I’m Frodo, would that make you my Sam? Gonna carry me across Mordor?” He teased.

“Sure, whatever. Dork.” Steve shoved Eddie lightly, mirth in his eyes.

Wheels speeding, legs pumping, a weight slamming into his back. Down, down, down.

“What if I’m just…empty?” Eddie whispered to Steve as they sat shoulder to shoulder in the camper, feeling soft fingers comb through his snarled curls. They were creeping towards a line they were both scared to cross, and Eddie needed Steve to understand what he was signing up for, “‘I was me, but now I’m gone.’ What if the old me’s dead somewhere and the new me’s hollow inside?”

Steve made a soft sound, incomprehensible, as he worked out a particular knot, “Then I guess we’ll hold a birthday for the birth of the new you.”

“C’mon, be serious.” Eddie whacked Steve lightly, “I’m not exactly a heroic type. I don’t stand in the face of an incomprehensible evil, I don’t give rousing speeches to empower the troops. I’m dark inside.”

“Then let us help you find your light, Eddie.” Steve shifted, slowly, tentatively intertwining their fingers as if he was dealing with a skittish raccoon, “I think you’re pretty heroic, by the way. What was it you said about cynical eyes seeing true love in diving? Sure seems like you swam through the gate for me, Mr. Hero.”

Eddie blushed brightly, “Shut up, Steve.” He mumbled.

Stand and fight. Be a hero. Bodies hurling against shield, arms straining, grip failing.

“Hey…” Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s and Eddie could swear he tasted bubblegum bonanza lipgloss, “Come back, okay? You’re just the distraction.” His voice was so full of pleading that Eddie couldn’t help reaching out, stroking his cheek with a calloused thumb.

“I’m gonna be fine, Stevie. I’ve got the kid with me, so just you listen to my concert.” Eddie promised, pressing up against the other to rest his head over heart for the briefest of moments, “Gonna turn you into a metalhead yet.”

“You wish, Eds.” Steve quirked an amused little smile.

Tail around his neck. Biting, tearing, chewing. Screaming. His own? Can’t breathe. It hurts, Wayne! Dustin? Vision blurring, dark enclosing. Goodbye.

Steve ran to the body, breath caught in his throat, “No, no, no, no!” He skidded to his knees and clutched at the hand, “Eddie, wake up! Wake up!”

“Steve, he’s…” Dustin couldn’t bring himself to say it, bottom lip quivering.

“We-We have to bring him back! I’m not leaving him here!” Steve yelled, scooping his Eddie into his arms, “I promised I’d carry him from Mordor! I can’t just leave him here!”

“Steve!” Nancy grabbed Steve’s shoulders, “Steve, he’s gone. We have living people we need to get through that gate.”

“But…But…” Steve tried to argue before he set Eddie back down, knowing that she was right. He pocketed his mood ring and straightened up, the leader, the protector, the man who could cry in silence but not right now, “Let’s go.”

Steve wasn’t even afforded the chance to mourn properly as Hell came for Hawkins. He was so tired, almost ready for the end so Sam and Frodo could be together again. He’d tried to give the ring to Wayne when Dustin delivered the necklace, but apparently he was just so pitiable he was allowed to keep it, or maybe Wayne understood why he needed it more. He wore it on his pinky, twisting it as he looked up at the darkening sky.

Vision growing, fangs itching, wings outstretched, claws sharp. Hungry.

@steddie-week

Also, the ao3 link if you’d like to subscribe:

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddieweek2023 #stranger things fanfiction #fanfic #creature eddie munson #kas eddie #kas eddie munson #tw death #angst #questionable writes #music fic

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ebaeschnbliah · 1 year

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What would Frodo choose to do? Why was he hesitating?

`He is debating which course is the most desperate, I think,' said Aragorn. 'And well he may. It is now more hopeless than ever for the Company to go east, since we have been tracked by Gollum, and must fear that the secret of our journey is already betrayed. But Minas Tirith is no nearer to the Fire and the destruction of the Burden.

`We may remain there for a while and make a brave stand; but the Lord Denethor and all his men cannot hope to do what even Elrond said was beyond his power: either to keep the Burden secret. or to hold off the full might of the Enemy when he comes to take it. Which way would any of us choose in Frodo's place? I do not know. Now indeed we miss Gandalf most.'

'Grievous is our loss,' said Legolas. 'Yet we must needs make up our minds without his aid. Why cannot we decide, and so help Frodo? Let us call him back and then vote! I should vote for Minas Tirith.'

`And so should I,' said Gimli. 'We, of course, were only sent to help the Bearer along the road, to go no further than we wished; and none of us is under any oath or command to seek Mount Doom. Hard was my parting from Lothlórien. Yet I have come so far, and I say this: now we have reached the last choice, it is clear to me that I cannot leave Frodo. I would choose Minas Tirith, but if he does not, then I follow him.'

`And I too will go with him,' said Legolas. `It would be faithless now to say farewell.'

'It would indeed be a betrayal, if we all left him,' said Aragorn. 'But if he goes east, then all need not go with him; nor do I think that all should. That venture is desperate: as much so for eight as for three or two, or one alone. If you would let me choose, then I should appoint three companions: Sam, who could not bear it otherwise; and Gimli; and myself. Boromir will return to his own city, where his father and his people need him; and with him the others should go, or at least Meriadoc and Peregrin, if Legolas is not willing to leave us.'

`That won't do at all! ' cried Merry. 'We can't leave Frodo! Pippin and I always intended to go wherever he went, and we still do. But we did not realize what that would mean. It seemed different so far away, in the Shire or in Rivendell. It would be mad and cruel to let Frodo go to Mordor. Why can't we stop him?'

'We must stop him,' said Pippin. `And that is what he is worrying about, I am sure. He knows we shan't agree to his going east. And he doesn't like to ask anyone to go with him, poor old fellow. Imagine it: going off to Mordor alone! ' Pippin shuddered. 'But the dear silly old hobbit, he ought to know that he hasn't got to ask. He ought to know that if we can't stop him, we shan't leave him.'

'Begging your pardon,' said Sam. 'I don't think you understand my master at all. He isn't hesitating about which way to go. Of course not! What's the good of Minas Tirith anyway? To him, I mean, begging your pardon, Master Boromir,' he added, and turned. It was then that they discovered that Boromir, who at first had been sitting silent on the outside of the circle, was no longer there.

`Now where's he got to? ' cried Sam, looking worried. 'He's been a bit queer lately, to my mind. But anyway he's not in this business. He's off to his home, as he always said; and no blame to him. But Mr. Frodo, he knows he's got to find the Cracks of Doom, if he can. But he's afraid. Now it's come to the point, he's just plain terrified. That's what his trouble is. Of course he's had a bit of schooling, so to speak-we all have-since we left home, or he'd be so terrified he'd just fling the Ring in the River and bolt. But he's still too frightened to start. And he isn't worrying about us either: whether we'll go along with him or no. He knows we mean to. That's another thing that's bothering him. If he screws himself up to go, he'll want to go alone. Mark my words! We're going to have trouble when he comes back. For he'll screw himself up all right, as sure as his name's Baggins.'

'I believe you speak more wisely than any of us, Sam,' said Aragorn. `And what shall we do, if you prove right? '

'Stop him! Don't let him go! ' cried Pippin.

'I wonder? ' said Aragorn. `He is the Bearer, and the fate of the Burden is on him. I do not think that it is our part to drive him one way or the other. Nor do I think that we should succeed, if we tried. There are other powers at work far stronger.'

`Well, I wish Frodo would "screw himself up" and come back. and let us get it over,' said Pippin. `This waiting is horrible! Surely the time is up? '

`Yes,' said Aragorn. 'The hour is long passed. The morning is wearing away. We must call for him.'

At that moment Boromir reappeared. He came out from the trees and walked towards them without speaking. His face looked grim and sad. He paused as if counting those that were present, and then sat down aloof, with his eyes on the ground.

`Where have you been, Boromir? ' asked Aragorn. `Have you seen Frodo? '

Boromir hesitated for a second. `Yes, and no,' he answered slowly. `Yes: I found him some way up the hill, and I spoke to him. I urged him to come to Minas Tirith and not to go east. I grew angry and he left me. He vanished. I have never seen such a thing happen before. though I have heard of it in tales. He must have put the Ring on. I could not find him again. I thought he would return to you.'

'Is that all that you have to say? ' said Aragorn, looking hard and not too kindly at Boromir.

`Yes,' he answered. `I will say no more yet.'

`This is bad!' cried Sam, jumping up. `I don't know what this Man has been up to. Why should Mr. Frodo put the thing on? He didn't ought to have; and if he has, goodness knows what may have happened!'

'But he wouldn't keep it on`' said Merry. `Not when he had escaped the unwelcome visitor, like Bilbo used to.'

`But where did he go? Where is he? ' cried Pippin. 'He's been away ages now.'

`How long is it since you saw Frodo last, Boromir? ' asked Aragorn.

`Half an hour, maybe,' he answered. `Or it might be an hour. I have wandered for some time since. I do not know! I do not know! ' He put his head in his hands, and sat as if bowed with grief.

`An hour since he vanished! ' shouted Sam. `We must try and find him at once. Come on! '

`Wait a moment! ' cried Aragorn. `We must divide up into pairs, and arrange-here, hold on! Wait! '

It was no good. They took no notice of him. Sam had dashed off first. Merry and Pippin had followed, and were already disappearing westward into the trees by the shore, shouting: Frodo! Frodo! in their clear, high hobbit-voices. Legolas and Gimli were running. A sudden panic or madness seemed to have fallen on the Company.

`We shall all be scattered and lost,' groaned Aragorn. `Boromir! I do not know what part you have played in this mischief, but help now! Go after those two young hobbits, and guard them at the least, even if you cannot find Frodo. Come back to this spot, if you find him, or any traces of him. I shall return soon.'

Aragorn sprang swiftly away and went in pursuit of Sam. Just as he reached the little lawn among the rowans he overtook him, toiling uphill, panting and calling, Frodo!

`Come with me, Sam! ' he said. `None of us should be alone. There is mischief about. I feel it. I am going to the top, to the Seat of Amon Hen, to see what may be seen. And look! It is as my heart guessed, Frodo went this way. Follow me, and keep your eyes open! ' He sped up the path.

Sam did his best, but he could not keep up with Strider the Ranger, and soon fell behind. He had not gone far before Aragorn was out of sight ahead.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Breaking of the Fellowship

#the lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #the breaking of the fellowship #jrr tolkien #anduin #nen hithoel #parth galen #amon hen #rauros #aragorn #legolas #gimli #merry #pippin #sam #boromir #movie pics #peter jackson

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shirefantasies · 3 months

Note

This is kind of dumb but I gotta ask could you write about the hobbits with a reader is quite a bit shorter than them? Like a bit below their shoulder kinda short? I know it’s and off request but I gotta ask. Thank you and I really love all your writing by the way. I start smiling and kicking my feet every time you post something lmao ❤️❤️❤️

Nah, it’s not dumb! I mean statistically it seems like female hobbits are shorter than guys just like in the other races so that makes sense! Reader is a beautiful hobbit lass :) posting again so soon because I woke up with some distressing stuff happening surgery wise & I need some fluff ok 😔

Little Things- The Hobbits x Shorter!F!Hobbit!Reader

Frodo

✧ When he invited you on one of Bilbo’s little out-of-town adventures, the first place he wanted to take you was the bookshop, and that was before he realized how adorable you looked standing on your tiptoes trying to reach the higher shelves, some of which Frodo could help you pluck from and others he needed a ladder for too.

✧ Never lets you lift a finger when your family hosts dinners, rising and insisting that you’ve done plenty in preparation, let him at least get down the dishes and serve you up. Besides, he remembers all your favorites and dishes you extra!

✧ The way his hands run through your hair upon every embrace.

✧ As winter draws near, he enlists members of his family to craft a pair of gloves perfectly in your size, presenting them to you before the first snow and gently aiding you in pulling the soft warmth on, eyes shining at your gratitude.

✧ Comfortingly rests his hand upon your shoulder, which he can't help but thinking is the perfect reach away, whenever he sees concern bloom across your beautiful features.

✧ Feels heat rush to your cheeks when your smaller hand rests upon his, not quite covering it but blanketing it in the greatest warmth nonetheless.

Sam

✧ Sam hasn’t a strong preference for height, so you won’t see so much of a difference in the way he’s attracted to you…

✧ …you will see it in how much he loves the way you make him feel needed! He gets the softest smile on his face when you ask him to help you reach things.

✧ One day he sees you carrying a sunflower that’s even taller than you and his heart bursts with the realization that you’re his sunshine, you’re all he wants.

✧ Jumps between you and danger any chance he can get- even things as small as an apple tumbling off a cart toward your head have him rushing forth to catch them, check if you are ok.

✧ Insists on helping you put your trellis up, a great arch marking the entrance to your beautiful little home, doing all the hardest parts for you and letting you focus on your flowers.

✧ Loves the way your hands reach up for his shoulders to take him up into hugs!

Merry

✧ Teases you just a bit, occasionally resting an arm gently stop your head just to enjoy your reaction.

✧ Always lends you a hand to help you climb up the farmers’ fences, making sure you’ve gone over before he does anything else.

✧ Pulls you a little extra close to his chest when he hugs you, a hand going around your waist and his head resting atop yours.

✧ One of his favorite memories is of the day you two passed a field a few days after a new lamb was born, her young shepherd letting you hold her in your arms. Your gentle smile and how big even such a small creature looks in your grasp just has him softer than anything. Merry can't help himself imagining the sight of an even smaller animal or maybe even a baby.

✧ Lifts you up with both hands around your middle after daring you to try and reach the highest-hanging delicacies of your favorite apple tree.

✧ Feeling bold, he'll take the opportunity to reach up beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Pippin

✧ “That’s quite a nice ring. Can I see if it fits me?” “I doubt it, but you can sure try.” Pippin finds it’s a bit too small for his ring finger. “Guess so. My hands aren’t so much bigger, are they? Let me see.” Holds up his hand palm-out just to feel the press of your slightly smaller one against him, smiling with the contact.

✧ Stops by randomly with treats in hand for you, especially things like tartlets from his cousins' house or little cupcakes because even if you don't realize it, those small sweet treats never fail to remind him of you!

✧ It flusters him that much more if he trips in your presence, bringing you, the smaller of your duo, to be the one catching him. At the feeling of your arms around him, though, he will never complain.

✧ He always stays by your side, even to the point of you two falling asleep next to each other. Your head droops to his shoulder, and his rests atop yours.

✧ Forgets himself in his typical habits, slinging an arm around your shoulders when he gets too focused on the topic at hand; when he comes to, he cannot help noticing what a perfect height you are for the pose!

✧ Lets his head fall down the little distance to connect your foreheads when you share an especially fond goodbye or comforting embrace.

Bilbo

✧ Becomes quite the guard dog around you! Will never tolerate a single slight to your character, which has shown to be the very highest thank him very much.

✧ Shyly walks by your hobbit hole when he knows you’ll be picking from your orange tree, hoping you’ll invite him to join you. Fetches the higher-up ones and only keeps them at your insistence. Marvels at the size difference of your hands as you hand him a jar of the marmalade you recently made.

✧ Loves playing up the heights of things in all his wild tales that much more, whether they are trolls or towering cliffs, because surely they are many times your size, right? He thinks with a grin as he spins his yarns.

✧ Gets pushed into a dance with you at some party or another; glancing down to meet your eyes, he cannot help darting a brief gaze to your lips, flushing at their proximity and the feeling of your hands in his.

✧ The first time you grab him into a hug, his hands freeze for a moment before he finally lets them settle at the small of your back, daring to rub a soothing circle there.

✧ "Here," he gets your attention quietly, reaching down, "let me get this for you." Gently his fingers brush your hair, removing the leaf that had gotten tangled in a curl.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @kilibaggins @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #bilbo #female reader #hobbit reader #ask #anon #requested #hope you enjoy!

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starspray · 1 year

Note

hello hi! if you're up to it, do you have any thoughts on sam & frodo + songs of power please?

Thank you very much for the prompt!

It wasn’t until they returned to Minas Tirith and all of the celebrations following Aragorn’s coronation were over that the four hobbits were able to sit down and have a proper talk. Legolas and Gimli joined them for a little while before departing again—Gimli said something about talking over plans for repairs with someone in one of the lower levels, and Legolas seemed to want to introduce himself to every single tree and flower in the city.

Merry and Pippin were very interested in all of Frodo and Sam’s doings; Frodo let Sam tell most of the tale. His memories of Mordor were hazy at best, and absolutely unpleasant. But he did remember the Tower of Cirith Ungol, and Sam’s brave rescue of him there. “Would have been better if we had someone else there to deal with the orcs,” Sam was saying. “Some great hero like—like Lúthien, or maybe Felagund, who could sing the whole tower down with one of their great songs.”

“Your song worked more than well enough, Sam,” said Frodo.

“Oh, that—that wasn’t much of anything.” Sam turned pink, up to the tips of his ears. “Just a bit of—well, you know. It wasn’t a song of power, understand. Us hobbits don’t go in for that sort of thing.”

“Well,” said Pippin, “not all songs have to be magic songs.”

“Though I imagine that would help, on the edges of Mordor and all,” Merry added. He rubbed absently at his arm.

Frodo found himself shaking his head, though it took him a little while to gather his thoughts together. “I think,” he said slowly, “I think that all songs are—maybe not magic, exactly, but they are powerful. Especially on the edges of Mordor. There’s a great deal to be said for singing of things like starlight and trees and flowers, and good wholesome things. I wasn’t in much of a state to do anything for myself, but Sam’s song sort of cut through all of the horror, if you know what I mean. It was just what I needed—I will not say the day is done, nor bid the stars fare well. And you know, Sam, you sang to the gardens at Bag End for years—don’t blush, I heard you most afternoons!—and I daresay the peonies and snapdragons aren’t growing nearly as well for Lotho and Lobelia as they always did for you.”

Gandalf arrived then with lunch, and the idea of songs and power was forgotten for the moment. But when they returned to the Shire Frodo soon found that Sam remembered it very well: as he walked over the Shire planting trees, word got around that he sang to each sapling, and Frodo privately believed that Sam’s singing did just as much as the Lady’s gift of soil, if not more, to coax the Shire into blooming again.

#look i wrote a thing #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings

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checkoutmybookshelf · 1 month

Text

Re-reading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Ok, you guys...these hobbits have me kicking my feet and absolutely adoring them in this chapter. Honestly, I'm really starting to come around to understanding why people think that the movies did the characterization of the hobbits dirty. I still love the movies, but I am increasingly loving this book and the relationships between our hobbits. Literally, why did nobody tell me that Merry is HELLA competent and probably should actually be running this mission??? Let's talk "A Conspiracy Unmasked."

So for like most of the last chapter, Frodo was over here panicking about how he's going to tell his friends that he's leaving and feeling guilty about making them help him move for fakesies, and I totally get where he's coming from. Moving sucks, and they did a ton for him.

So my face probably about mirrored Frodo's when Merry interrupts Frodo's suuuuuuuuuuuuuper awkward attempts to come clean and just goes,

...you are miserable, because you don't know how to say goodbye. You meant to leave the Shire, of course. But danger has come on you sooner than you expected, and now you are making up your mind to go at once. And you don't want to. We are very sorry for you.

SOMEBODY PUT THIS HOBBIT IN CHARGE. Especially after he comes clean about running the little spy ring with Sam and Pippin. The literal "Bro, you're not nearly as good at keeping secrets as you think you are, we've known about the ring for literal decades" reveal was SO ON POINT, especially for a group of longtime friends. Thinking you can pull one over on your friends and them just going, "Congrats, you're the last to know" is one of my favorite things.

I also love that Merry is fully prepared to just be absolutely blunt about this. Frodo is...philosophical, introspective, and deeply worried about maintaining group dynamics, harmony, and safety. Conversely, Merry has an intrinsic trust in those group dynamics and leans on them to make sure that everyone knows where Frodo is so he doesn't give them the slip. Merry's reveal of Sam as the master spy was also sheer gold:

"Where is he?" said Frodo, looking round, as if he expected a masked and sinister figure to come out of a cupboard. "Step forward, Sam!" said Merry; and Sam stood up with a face scarlet up to the ears. "Here's our collector of information! And he collected a lot, I can tell you, before he was finally caught. After which, I may say, he seemed to regard himself as on parole, and dried up."

Merry was running a successful spy ring that neither Bilbo NOR APPARENTLY GANDALF noticed in the freaking Shire, the small-town gossip central of Middle Earth. He moved Frodo with less fuss than any move I've ever experienced--he even had baths and dinner ready to go!!!--and he was fully up to speed on the Ring and the scope of what the mission at this point is. All of this while wrangling Sam and Pippin to make sure that Frodo didn't disappear on them. Seriously, I'm just deeply impressed by Meriadoc Brandybuck, and if this is indicative of the Brandybucks in general, then the rest of the Shire needs to stop disparaging them.

I also cannot believe that we are STILL on the freaking Sackville-Bagginses, but APPARENTLY they are just the worst, because without them being so awful that Bilbo was more than happy to use the One Ring to disappear just to avoid passing them on the road, Merry would never have seen that little disappearing trick. And if he had never seen that trick, then he wouldn't have known to set up his little spy ring and keep that close an eye on Frodo. Literally, I need to know who the Sackville-Bagginses were to Tolkien, because there is some serious beef there beyond narrative usefulness.

OOH ALSO: Crack theory time, because this chapter specifically says that Bucklanders "were not very different from the other hobbits of the four farthings. Except in one point: they were fond of boats, and some of them could swim." WERE SMEAGOL AND DEAGOL BRANDYBUCKS??? I have no further evidence to back this up, but like...I enjoy the thought that there might be an extremely distant familial relationship between Frodo and Gollum.

I'm also feeling a lot of sympathy for Frodo at the end of this chapter. Not being able to sleep because of stress and achy legs sucks, and then to have a vaguely ominous dream sucks, and it definitely does not set his ass up for a strong start in the morning, which I think he's going to need, because they're getting out the door early the next morning.

We'll pick up with our hobbits next time, and finally see if we can't actually get out of the Shire without a direct encounter with the Black Riders. (I know, they make it to Weathertop before they get nailed, and there's a close call at the Prancing Pony, but I only know that from the movies, I don't remember if they have any other close calls around those events.)

#reread #the fellowship of the ring #the lord of the rings #lotr #chapter 5 #books and reading #books #books and novels

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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year

Note

I've had one ask for Artist Commentary, but what about Second Ask? XD (If you're still down to answer!) Could you do "Well done, good and faithful servant" (the one where Frodo recalls all Sam has done for him and confirms to the Gaffer that he gave "perfect satisfaction") with 1, 3 (Frodo' expression looking down at Sam while thinking of the feats above), 6, 11, and 20? Thanks! :D

I’m trying to come up with a pun between “ask” and “second breakfast”, but it’s not happening. X-D Let’s go!

(Read the whole comic here!)

1. What made you want to draw this scene?

Oh please, you KNOW how weak I am for Frodo and Sam 🤣 Any time these two are being cute I’m gonna want to draw it.

But I do admit this little pause to reflect isn’t actually in the book. I made it up. Tolkien is very frugal when it comes to writing emotional responses, so in canon, Frodo just answers the Gaffer’s question immediately without a second thought.

But I wanted Frodo to sit there and think about it for a second. I wanted to linger here, savoring the emotions of the journey and how far these two have come. I wanted Frodo to look at Sam and feel the weight of everything this lovely, humble little gardener has done for him.

Which brings me neatly to:

3. What does [character’s] facial expression mean/what’s going through their head?

Oh man, what isn’t going through Frodo’s head right now?

I don’t really think there’s a coherent thought in there except “where do I begin?” I think the entire Quest is flashing through Frodo’s mind at once, playing like a loop film, and all he can do is look at Sam and feel this sudden wave of emotion and affection and gratitude that he can’t express.

It’s not that he wasn’t grateful before. I’m sure, once he began to recover, he did nothing but heap praise and thanks upon Sam. But here, at home, in the Shire, talking to Sam’s father, everything is recontextualized; suddenly Frodo has to summarize a year and a lifetime’s worth of servitude and companionship and comfort and loyalty and courage and utter devotion—in one sentence—to someone who saw none of it, someone who will never understand the true depth of what Sam has done for him.

I think there’s a bittersweet tinge to that, looking at Sam and knowing that it’s their secret; that even if they tell the story over and over, the experience will forever be theirs and theirs alone. There’s something intimate about that. No one else will ever know the tedium and the misery and the grief and the suffering and the love and the victory and the joy quite the way that they experienced it. No one else will ever understand. They are alone in this; but they are alone together.

And as Frodo looks at Sam, he finds that Sam is looking back up at him, with a soft and humble and almost questioning expression. “Did I do all right?” he seems to ask. “Was it enough?”

And the humility of it blows Frodo away. How on earth—after everything they’ve been through, everything he’s done, everything he’s sacrificed—how on earth could Sam possibly think he is anything less than an utter venerable saint?? But that’s just it. Sam don’t think he’s a saint. Sam don’t think much about himself at all. All he wants to know is if Frodo is all right, if Frodo is satisfied with his service, if Frodo thinks he did well, and he’s hanging on his words with all the eagerness of a loyal hound dog hoping for praise from its master.

“Sam, my dear Sam,” Frodo thinks, “where do I even begin?”

6. What is your favorite part of this piece?

Mmmmm yes LOL

Seriously, this whole comic turned out great, and it’s really hard to pick a favorite part. But if I had to choose, I think I’d say Frodo and Sam’s little smiles after the big panel are my favorites. It was very important to me to get their expressions right—it needed to be subtle, warm, bittersweet, and full of unspoken love—and I think it speaks to how much my art has grown in the past year that they turned out so well. Especially Sam’s face. Just. Ugh, I want to hug my boys.

11. What did you learn from drawing this?

I got great practice drawing wrinkles, using crosshatching (surprisingly distinct from hatching!), arranging stuff in the panel in a way that draws the eye where you want it to go, and playing with different “scales” of my art (from teeny tiny all the way up to normal-size). I also learned how to draw spiders, because…

20. Quick! Random fun fact!

…this comic was the first time I’d ever drawn Shelob LOL

ARTIST COMMENTARY ASK GAME!

#artist commentary ask game #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #my art

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niuttuc · 11 months

Text

New “budget” Commander cards: Lord of the Rings: Multicolor, part 2

Alright, multicolor is in two parts. This one will focus on legendary creatures specifically, because there are SO MANY. Even in two parts, this will be the longest of these, so I'll put part of it under a read more. We'll also be avoiding cards that have one specific home that's written on it in bold. Yes, Bilbo, Birthday Celebrant wants to be in an abzan lifegain deck or helm one, with plenty of small lifegain, but that's pretty obvious upon reading the card.

You know these by now, we'll go color by color, mixing main set and commander set. Reprints can be included if they brought the price down under our bar. All the cards presented here are under $2 at time of writing. Cards will be evaluated as part of the 99, though given that today is only legendary creatures, there might be short mention of their potential role as a commander.

Let's start with these four to get them out of the way. While none of them are great cards on their own in the 99, they have some very important text that is ONLY relevant in the 99. Their partner with ability allows them to tutor the other half from your deck when it enters the battlefield, meaning each of them have an extra "when this etb, draw half a card" on them, which can make them quite a bit more interesting. Frodo is just a bit of card draw for a lifegain deck, Sam is a steady supply of artifact tokens, Pippin can be a good finisher, but you need more than just himself as food production, and Merry turns all your clues, treasures and food into actual creature tokens. Merry is particularly good if you got ways to generate those tokens on opposing turns too, say, a Smothering Tithe.

Speaking of Food production, this Sam here is probably the best Food production ever printed, and a good way to make use of them too. Getting free food with any creature, Lonis-style is quite strong, particularly coupled with the ability to use it to recur any artifact or legend. While the Food is inherently less strong than Lonis's clues, the free repeatable ability here is better, but a deck that needs to turn creatures into artifact tokens will likely play them both if they can.

Of note, if you're in abzan, Samwise goes infinite and kills the table with a Cauldron Familiar and a free sacrifice outlet. Good to know!

While not as strong in multiplayer, the Monarchy is still plenty good, and more importantly fun. Introducing the monarchy spices up a game, and Aragorn is excellent at doing so, and more importantly reclaiming it. He's a variation on Keeper of Keys, a fun but not too great card mostly because it's very all or nothing on having the monarch. Aragorn's Vigilance helps defend the monarchy, his lifelink helps you survive if your opponents keep taking it back with an evasive creature, and his last ability helps you reclaim the monarchy yourself or gives you a pretty big advantage if you manage to defend it. All around, a great card for a great king, most decks won't have access to all three colors to run him, but if you do, give him a shot, even if you aren't a dedicated monarch deck.

Also it's a jeskai commander that's strong but not broken nor shoehorned into a narrow theme! Those are very rare, so hurray!

Turning creatures dying into ramp for free every turn on 3? Yeah, I can think of a few golgari decks that'd want that. If you're a Golgari deck that's sacrificing creatures, this is a great creature option.

Mother of runes is still an excellent option to this day. While requiring one more mana and color is infinitely more restrictive, Pippin is also a much better card at progressing the game, being able to attack as a 2/2 and activate nonetheless, and make creatures completely unblockable by himself, something Mother of Runes struggles with. His brand of card type protection will also lead to some less awkward moments in voltron decks, that could lose their equipments or auras when Mother of Runes protected them from a removal of the same color. Overall, I'd put Pippin here above Skrelv (if you have the colors) on the Mother of Runes list.

Talrand effects are always nice to see, and while this one is more restricted in homes, triggering from any noncreature is pretty nice. In practice though, it's likely the other way around, having more creatures means you get access to this effect in the command zone with access to the three main spellslinging colors. Stacking the counters on a single token is not the greatest though, you'll probably want something to make use of that.

That's... A lot of tokens. And on a creature ETB? Oh boy. Those X spells are usually on instants and sorceries (with a couple enchantment and battle ETBs). In Selesnya, putting it on a creature, a legendary one at that, makes it infinitely easier to find and to use and reuse. Ideally, you'd want a way to make use of the food, but honestly? You don't even need one.

A free chaos wand activation every turn? I don't care that it isn't actually all that good, it's fun! Gimme those spells!

I kept looking for the "until Éowyn leaves the battlefield" on this one, but it just isn't here. A permanent exiling removal on etb on a 3/4 haste that also makes all your legends unblockable by that player for the turn? Play her, blink her, keep anything big off the table. The only "issue" is that she won't snipe things with 3 power of less which are... Probably the most common creatures in commander. With that said, I doubt you'll have a hard time finding big creatures to exile forever at a typical commander table.

Permanently stealing creatures from all opponents or buffing your entire team, either way you're getting way more than a 5 mana etb on a creature is supposed to give you. This is strong enough that people will likely discuss their "secret" vote to give you the least they can, but... This is on a creature ETB for some reason. For only five mana. Play him, blink him, bring him back with Eternal Witness, and let the table try and stop you.

Of note, if a player has no creatures, they can vote for Fellowship without giving you anything. Still, it's probably still worth the five mana.

This Balrog is definitely not the strongest card in the set, but between fetchlands, treasures, plaguecrafters and altars, this can come down often as a four drop or less in some decks. Commander isn't the most aggressive format, but an early 7/5 with haste that people will have to commit real cards to chump and punishes whoever removes it will still put a lot of pressure on a game.

Etb or attacks to draw a card is a pretty good rate. If you can consistently draw a card every time with this, consider it, though artifact decks would likely prefer something else in this slot, non-artifact support cards are short in slots in those decks. Still, Humans are by far the most common creatures in the game.

An uncommon for once! This is neither the best way to generate tokens nor the best way to sacrifice them. But having both on a single card is definitely of interest to aristocrat decks that are plenty in Orzhov, being able to fuel both halves of your engine poorly in a single card makes sure you can always at least pull yourself along.

The Galadriel that fits the same theme isn't here because she's more straightforward and about scrying. With that said, this Elrond can technically be run in any +1/+1 counter deck for the second ability alone, and a 4/4 body for 4 behind the ability is nothing to scoff at. You'll often have some incidental scrying too, I guess, but some decks won't care and can run him either way.

Shelob is a HUGE creature that's annoying to remove and annoying to chump block. She has spider text but don't get too hung up on that, even if she's the only Spider in the deck, she'll still do work. In decks built around fight spells or lures, she'll shine even brighter, but even just big monster decks will gladly take a 6 mana 8/8 with a lot of upside.

Of note, because of her exact wording, her last ability will even make Food out of tokens she kills, unlike someone like Myrkul.

The monarchy is strong. ETB damage to any target is strong. Double Strike is strong. Éomer does so much, I'd consider running him with zero other humans in the deck. He'd probably not make the cut, but in practice, as long as you have at least a single other human on the field when he lands (or any form of anthem or cathar crusade), he'll do enough to be worth the five mana. Seriously, a card draw and a removal and a double striking body is A LOT. And the damage can even go face, which will give you some cheeky kills.

That's a lot of text to say everyone draws a card unless they give a card away to put a permanent on the battefield... With some extra mind games in there. Every turn, at the least, because he triggers again on attacks. Is this good? Probably not, but I love the minigame here.

A novel way to doubling your counters, now you also get to copy all of Aragorn's counters to the rest of your board. The ring text can be mostly ignored as part of the 99. Some counter decks might want this? He really likes counters that move around, and can allow you to go tall on two creatures instead of one.

A repeatable way to get the monarchy without ever having to attack, that'll generate at least two 1/1s every time? Yeah, that's quite a solid 3-drop if you can trigger him. You do want to trigger him consistently though, but just your commander being a 4 drop creature is probably enough for that.

Phew, so many legends, and we didn't even cover a fourth of them!

#mtg #commander #edh #sleeper #lotr #lord of the rings #multicolor #ltr #ltc #part 2

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