#chieftains of the dunedain
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#lotr#jrr tolkien#lotr books#lord of the rings#lotr poll#tolkien legendarium#lotr appendices#dunedain#third age#chieftain of the dunedain#arathorn i#argonui#dirhael#aragorn#lotr aragorn#aragorn son of arathorn#lotr theories#lotr headcanons#middle earth#gilraen#rangers of the north
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youtube
King of Reunited Kingdom Daily Video.
Aragorn – The King
#king of gondor#king of arnor#king of reunited kingdom#tribute#lord of the rings#estel#aragorn#thorongil#elessar#strider#chieftain of the dunedain#Youtube
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@storiedocs :: eruingil | reply to this ::
Aragorn smiled softly, his attention almost fully diverted from the paperwork. He broke the kiss a moment later but kept her in a hug for a few more minutes, before letting go. He eyed the pack then her with a raised eyebrow but didn't say a word.
"Hal normally does this but he went on a mission, so I didn't have much choice." His smile turned rueful, since it was well known among the Rangers that the Esteldin Commander handled 90% of the day to day paperwork.
There was a side look, before his lips twitched with amusement. "Only if I do the actual writing."
#storiedocs :: eruingil#~/ to wander the wild is all i ever wanted \~ :: aragorn/strider#ask: stolen kiss#*|* find the man you are / meant to be *|* :: dunedain chieftain#like two peas in a pod#only aragorn doesn't want to let loose his second's annoyance if the paperwork get messed up#*|* beren and luthien they were not *|* :: arwen is his sister#*|* ᴀʟʟ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ɪs ᴀ ʀɪᴘᴘʟᴇ & ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇs *|* :: ᵉʳᵘⁱⁿᵍⁱˡ & ᵃʳᵃᵍᵒʳⁿ
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Happy birthday to Aragorn II Ellessar Edhelarn Estel Thorongil Envinyatar Dunadhan Telcontar, Son of Arathorn, Chieftain and High King of the Dunedain, Isildurs Heir, King of the West and the reunited Kingdoms Gondor and Arnor, Lord of the West, Captain of the forces of the West, bearer of the star of the north, wielder of the sword reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Strider, Wingfoot, Longshanks! I didn’t even notice until I scrolled Tumblr today, I’m such a disappointment :/
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Tolkien OC Week
A fandom event for OCs and underdeveloped characters in Tolkien's world!
This event celebrates both characters of Tolkien's world and our own characters that need more love, by creating and reblogging all kind of fanworks, like fanfiction, fanart, fanvideos, fancrafts, headcanons, playlists, edits, moodboards etc.
The event is modded by @yellow-faerie, @elamarth-calmagol and @stormxpadme and will take place between 21st August - 27th August 2023 for the third year running.
NSFW text entries are allowed and we’ll tag them accordingly when we reblog them, but please put them behind a “read more”.
We'll also be tracking the tag #tolkienocweek during this week!
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Event schedule for 2023:
Day 1 (21st August): Family members
Tolkien often neglects to mention the family members of major characters: for example, leaving both Celebrimbor and Fili and Kili with only one named parent. In others cases, such as Bilbo's family tree, he gives a name and nothing else. Share a character who fills in a gap in a family tree, or create a speculative family member, such as siblings for Legolas.
Day 2 (22nd August): The Bad Guys
Share an OC who belongs to the wrong side of the story, whether they're knowingly evil, misguided, or just doing their job. Maybe they're an orc or a balrog, an unrepentant kinslayer, a Southron or Easterling soldier, or one of the hobbits who worked with Saruman in the Shire. Explore their life and point of view and why they went down the path they did.
Day 3 (23rd August): Diversity
Share an OC who adds diversity to Tolkien’s world, whether it is their race, gender, disability, neurodiversity, sexual orientation, or another characteristic.
Day 4 (24th August): Forgotten Characters
As Tolkien created his stories, he abandoned some characters, such as Eriol the Mariner, and changed major characteristics of others, such as the idea that Erestor was a half-elven relative of Elrond. Other characters, such as the Dunedain chieftains fostered by Elrond before Aragorn, are forgotten by the fandom. Create a fanwork focusing on one of these forgotten characters or characterizations.
Day 5 (25th August): Shipping
Share an OC that you ship with a canon character. It could be a marriage, queerplatonic relationship, or one-night stand, canon compliant or AU, or any other sort of ship you want!
Day 6 (26th August): Alternate Universes
Share an OC who couldn’t be part of the canonical story, such as Boromir's child in an "everyone lives" scenario, a roommate or professor in a college AU, or a dimension-hopping "tenth walker".
Day 7 (27th August): Freeform
Did you have someone who doesn’t fit any prompts, or too many characters for one of them? Today, share any OC that you want.
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Since we want to celebrate creations about neglected characters all year long, the mods will occasionally reblog posts and fancreations about OCs and underdeveloped characters. If you would like to see your post on our blog, you're very welcome to tag tolkienocweek. Since tumblr's tagging system is often being faulty, don't hesitate to message us, too!
We are looking forward to see and share all the awesome work you come up with!
#lotr#lord of the rings#the hobbit#hobbit#lotr films#hobbit films#silm#the silm#silmarillion#tolkien#oc#original characters#tolkienocweek
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See this man here?
Aragorn son of Arathorn? King of Gondor, Sauron’s Bane, Chieftain of the Dunedain? Yeah, he would be the biggest lgbt ally in all Middle Earth.
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Chieftains of the Dunedain - by enanoakd
The Chieftains of the Dúnedain were the hereditary rulers of the Rangers of the North.
The title was created following the final destruction of Arthedain in T.A. 1974 by the Witch-king of Angmar. The heir to the throne of Arthedain, Aranarth son of Arvedui, in T.A. 1976 chose not to claim the kingship and instead ruled the remnants of his people as Chieftain.
They were descendants of Isildur through the kings of Arthedain and Anárion through Fíriel; as such they regarded themselves as the legitimate heirs to both Arnor and Gondor. The Chieftains were raised in Rivendell, where the heirlooms of the House of Isildur, were also kept.
#tolkien legendarium#middle earth#the lord of the rings#jrr tolkien#dunedain#rangers of the north#aragorn#isildur#arthedain
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sometimes you really do just have to think about how Aragorn II son of Arathorn II son of Arador son of Argonui son of Arathorn I son of Arassuil son of Arahad II son of Aravorn son of Aragost son of Arahad I son of Araglas son of Aragorn I son of Aravir son of Aranuir son of Arahael son of Aranarth son of Arvedui son of Araphant son of Araval son of Arveleg II son of Arvegil son of Argeleb II son of Araphor son of Arveleg I son of Argeleb I is crowned king of united Gondor & Arnor and immediately uses it as an excuse to rename himself Elessar because yes yes twenty-four generations of chieftains of the Dunedain & kings of Arthedain is all well and good but he wants to sound like Elrond’s kid dammit. if it would bother his forefathers that he wants to ditch the ar(a)- prefix then maybe arathorn ii should have stuck around to have a say instead of getting himself killed when aragorn was two but instead elrond’s the one who actually raised him thanks and he wants to be really really really unsubtle about that and there’s nothing anyone else can do about it so there. also he’s extremely extra and figured out how to name himself after elrond and elrond's dad at the same time and also do a matchy thing with his wife in the process (because the shared ar(a)- prefix wasn’t enough because aragorn, like everyone else in his entire family in the entire history of the world, is extremely extra sometimes) so like really how could he not
anyway then aragorn and arwen went on to look at that whole twenty-four generations of chieftains & kings shared ar(a)- prefix again later and again said “hm no thanks we're gonna stick with the “elrond's family” thing thx” and named their kid son of the elves. just in case anyone was wondering whether aragorn had had second thoughts at some point.
like i just. think about that a lot
#obviously it's entirely possible to attribute ''eldarion'' in part or whole to arwen too#but at the very least you kind of assume aragorn wasn't *opposed*#but truly whichever of them first came up with the name it's just so so funny to me#''hello my love i've been thinking about what we should name the baby we're expecting how do you feel about 'elrond's grandson'''#lotr#the lord of the rings#lotr meta#ish#character: aragorn#character: arwen undómiel#flushed: both the sweet and the bitter
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im gonna watch born of hope tonight and share my (unorganized) thoughts here!
• 0:02:50 in and it has already grabbed my attention
• arathorn is a badass!!! as i expected! i love all explorations of the dunadain and his fellow rangers are cool too. he’s so humble, similar to aragorn’s “havo dad, legolas” “do not bow, when you meet my father you can greet him thus, but until then…”
• gilraen! i’ve read about her in fics!
• ouch for the girl ranger who has a crush on arathorn who he totally friend zoned :(
• halbaron, that must be halbarad’s dad?
• arador seems like a good dude - a good dad to arathorn and a good chieftain of the dunedain.
• they’re married!!!!! :’) <3
• okay i love this 🥹 baby and toddler aragorn?! it’s too much!
• elladan and elrohir!!! i love to hear more backstory on how and why gilraen and aragorn came to imladris and i had no idea arathorn was supposed to leave the dunadain in secret
• “all the chieftain of the dunedain have spent time fostered in rivendell” and arathorn himself spent time there as a child?! woahhh
• and now im crying.
• wow this was excellent - writing, casting, acting, plot. it told a story that was consistent with tolkien’s works and it made my inner theater child sad i didn’t stick with it, because i remember being in plays and movies (none the size and scale of this) and i had so much fun with it. this must have been so much fun to make, and a labor of love.
• I LOVE FANMADE CONTENT.
#lotr#aragorn#born of hope#i want to go write fic now#but i also want to read the fellowship#jsjfkfjgjg
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Thranduil Fanfiction
"Amongst Starlight"
Chapter One: "Arnor"
It's finally here! A few things:
-The main character is NOT Aragorn's mother, she is named after her.
-My elvish translation is a little shaky as this is my first fic using the language.
-Thranduil is officially present in chapter two, so he's coming, I promise. This is just an introductory chapter!
-I welcome all suggestions and discussion, so please feel free to comment below or send me a message! I hope you like it!
*if you would like to be tagged in future updates on this fic please let me know! I tagged a few of you below who already notified me*
*AO3 is giving me some trouble so it's not posted on my account yet but this is the rough copy*
@coopsgirl @tigereyesf @warriormirkwood
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In the Northeastern plains in the forests of Eriador lay the remnants of the ancient Kingdom of Arnor. Since the fall of Numenor, many tribes of its descendents hid themselves in the wilderness. Long had they avoided the orcs who patrolled their lands, living in peace while keeping their people safe. Rumors had emerged of a young prince, the son of one Arathorn, who had survived an orc raid and named the heir of Elendil. His true identity was hidden from many say for those who were close to the late chieftain of the north and the elves who kept him safe. In Rivendell he secretly dwelled under the name Estel and thrived under the care of the house of Elrond. The remaining men were called rangers by many in Middle-Earth and were rarely seen. They lived scattered across the north and concealed by the many woods and hills available to them.
Just east of the old ruins of Fornost lived a small group of Dunedain. They were a simple and humble people but kept mainly to themselves, avoiding contact with outsiders; making their home at the foot of the weather hills as a protective measure. Their chieftain was Talion and he ensured the safety and prosperity of his people. Deep in the woods of his realm is where our story begins.
The sun rose over the horizon in the early hours of the morning, the evening's dew still coating the ground. In the distance, the quick pounding of hooves could be heard as two horses raced through the winding trails of the forest floor, each with a rider on their back. One of the horsemen was a young woman, her auburn curls danced playfully along her back, shining like fire in the rays of the morning sunrise. She was clad in a deep green tunic and matching trousers, with brown boots laced up to her knees. She stood up in her stirrups and whistled, pushing her steed to a faster gallop. Her horse was a beautiful dark grey mare, a hand or so taller than her companion's mount who was only a few feet behind, trying to keep pace with her.
She kept glancing back at him and laughing at the hilarity of her lead. The young man behind her was older but similar in appearance, and taller. He did his best to encourage his horse to shorten the distance between them, but to no avail. As they continued to race through the woods, a white falcon soared above the treeline, following them closely. Around his ankles were a pair of jesses, woven lengths of leather meant to allow his handler to secure him when perched. His pale feathers danced as the breeze in the skyline passed by, and he let out an excited screech as he watched the mounted competition below him. The two riders sped through the valley and they ran into an opening where the river met a beautiful meadow. Once the woman crossed the water to the other bank, she pulled back on the reins, easing her horse into a gentle trot. Moments later, her companion crossed the stream and caught up with them, matching his steed's pace with hers. She glanced over at him and laughed, a proud smirk on her lips.
"It appears I have won, dear cousin. So you must uphold our terms," she teased. He shook his head in disapproval but smiled back at her.
"I'd hardly count this as a fair victory given you had a ridiculous head start," he mocked. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
"It's not my fault that you didn't secure your saddle girth properly," she replied.
"You could have waited…" he said.
"Indeed I could have…but where's the fun in that?" she said back, chuckling along with him, "Or would you rather sort this out with a rematch if sorts?"
"Perhaps a sparring match would settle the scale… You win, I'll give you the information you want. But if I best you, you'll have to clean my saddle and tack for a week," he replied. She gave him a mischievous grin and dismounted, pulling a broadsword from a sheath at her side.
"Very well, but we both know who is more skilled with the blade," she teased and began to circle him, the sharp point of her sword pointed in his direction. He brandished his weapon and twirled it quickly in his hand, finishing his display with his elbow raised to his shoulder, blade at the ready.
"Come then, Gilraen, let's see these superior skills of yours…," he mocked, motioning with his hand to step forward. She tilted her head quickly to catch him off guard, then lunged at him, catching his blade against hers. He parried her blow and held her there, pressing the steel of their weapons together so she could not move. He slowly slid the edge of his blade up hers until it barely touched the cross guard.
"You'll have to do better than that…," he said, smirking at her. She pushed him off and stepped backwards, holding her sword's blade so the flat end was balanced on the back of her other hand. Gilraen was swift and impulsive with her blows, while her cousin favored a more defensive stance. For several minutes they took turns striking and parrying until one of them lost their footing. After blocking one of her swings, the young man tripped over his own feet and pummeled to the ground. His weapon fell from his hand and he lay flat on his back, her foot pressing on his chest. She playfully held her sword up to his neck.
"Surrender…," she ordered, smiling down mischievously at him. He raised his hands in defeat and laughed.
"Alright….I yield…," he replied. She sheathed her sword and offered her hand to help him stand. Brushing himself off, he secured his own weapon back at his side and walked over to his horse. He pulled a small roll of folded parchment from his saddle bag. She ran over and tried grabbing it from his hands.
"Come on then, let me see it!" she pleaded as he dangled it above her head just out of reach. Before their race across the countryside, Eothyn had mentioned that he had received news from outside of their realm regarding a summoning. Where or whom the message had been sent from was not mentioned. The agreement was he would share this information with her if she won.
"Patience…this is an official parcel and I'd hate for it to be ruined," he said, handing it to her. Before opening it, Gilraen noticed a familiar insignia in the wax seal. A bright star in the middle encircled by an intricate pattern of vines twisted beautifully around the border. It was the family crest of the house of Elrond; the message had arrived from Rivendell. Her eyes lit up and she excitedly looked at her cousin.
"This is a summons from Lord Elrond!" she said happily as he nodded in response. Unfolding the paper, she began to read the letter to herself. "Lord Talion, I am pleased to inform you all arrangements have been officialized. I have been on speaking terms with the King and he has agreed to travel to Imladris. We request the presence of you and your family in the valley so we can proceed with our agreement as discussed. In a few days time, I will send one of my sons to accompany you. I hope this letter finds you and your kin well. I look forward to your arrival. Elrond."
She looked quizzically at Eothyn, her eyebrows twisted with confusion. To her surprise, he seemed ashamed of the news and pressed his lips together nervously.
"What is this then? What arrangements is he talking about?....Eothyn?" she asked, waiting for an answer.
"I'm not supposed to tell you this…but there's something you should know," he replied shyly.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"The agreement in question is marriage," he explained to her.
"And why aren't you supposed to tell me this?" she demanded.
"You have been chosen by Elrond and my father to partake in this arrangement," he said.
"Me?!" she screamed, "and you agreed with this? You're perfectly fine with me being handed off to some stiff nosed king?!"
"He's not just any King. He is the Elven King, Thranduil," he told her.
"I suppose that makes it all better then," she shot back, raising her arms in disgust.
"At least we have the opportunity to visit Rivendell again. Elrond is a dear friend and I know you've missed the beauty of Imladris more than any of us," he said, trying to calm her anger. He tenderly placed his hand on her shoulder. She gave him a small smile but he could see tears gathering in her eyes.
"Forgive me, I took my anger out on you…this is all so sudden and unexpected," she replied.
"I know…which is why I wanted you to know ahead of time so you weren't caught completely unaware," he told her. She paused for a moment and looked tenderly at him.
"For that, you have my thanks," she said and hugged him tightly. As he held his cousin there, the silence of the morning was broken by the mellow call of a small elven horn. She looked up at him and grinned cheek to cheek.
"They're here!" she shouted happily. Reaching for a small whistle in her pocket, she put it to her lips and let out a pattern of high pitched tones. In the skies above, a white speck began to grow into the shape of the falcon who had been following them. He screeched happily and she held out her arm, protected by a thick bracer made of leather, allowing him to land gracefully. Taking a dried strip of squirrel jerky from her saddle, she gave it to her falcon as a reward. She carefully stroked his back feathers with a sincere fondness.
"Shall we greet our friends from Rivendell, Astar?" she asked the falcon. He bobbed his head and neck quickly and chirped in agreement. Astar perched himself on her shoulder as she mounted her steed. Eothyn readied himself and his horse for the inevitable race home. She glanced over at her cousin with a mischievous grin while he wasn't looking and positioned her horse next to his. Carefully, she undid the buckle of his saddle girth as he was focusing on securing his belt and faced in the opposite direction.
"Race you back?..." she teased while winking at him.
"Only if we both start at the same time, and no cheating," he said back to her sternly.
"I wouldn't dream of it!" she lied. Coaxing Astar back onto her arm, she lifted her arm up, and he took off into the blue sky above. Her cousin placed his foot in one of the stirrups and hoisted himself onto the saddle.
"On my mark then," said Eothyn.
"Don't trust me, do you?" she asked, mockingly.
"Not for a second," he teased back, "three, two,...one!"
And with that, both horses took off as their riders squeezed their sides. Within a few feet of a full gallop however, Eothyn's saddle loosened and snapped off, causing him to fall off of his horse and into the grass of the meadow.
"You cheater!!!," he yelled after her as she galloped ahead.
"Never turn your back on an opponent, cousin!" she yelled back, laughing as she continued down the trail. Minutes later she entered the border of the forest and the small village of theirs came into view. Careful to watch for any children playing in the square, she made her way to the great hall, where her uncle Talion was waiting to greet them. Their guests had arrived just as she did and the villagers whispered with excitement as the elves dismounted. Glancing back behind her, she saw Eothyn leading his horse while carrying his saddle and smiled.
The commander of the company had long dark hair and grey eyes. He was clad in silver silk that draped over a beautiful suit of armor that was both light and sturdy. Indeed this was one of the sons of Lord Elrond, but it was not clear which one he was until the hood of his cloak was removed. There was a small scar on his left cheek that led to his ear. It was a battle wound from orcs when he and his brother rescued their mother from her torment. Before he could even reach Talion to greet him, she ran forward and jumped into his arms, embracing the young elf.
"Elrohir!!!! Mae Govannen, Hîr nìn! (Well-met/welcome, my Lord!)" she exclaimed joyfully. Elrohir lifted her off the ground and laughed happily in response to her greeting.
"Mae Govannen, mellon nìn! Le hannon! (Greetings my friend! I thank you!)" he said back, squeezing her gently and ruffling her hair. Setting her down he turned to Talion, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. Talion did the same to his elven friend and they nodded, smiling happily.
"Elrohir, Mae Govannen, Gi nathlam hí! ( You are welcome here!)", Said Talion, nudging the elf's shoulder.
"Mae Govannen, Le Fael (thank you/you are generous)," said Elrohir.
"Where is Elladan?" asked Gilraen. He smiled in her direction and began untacking his horse.
"My father has sent him to Mirkwood to accompany the King on the long road to Rivendell," he explained, "do not fret, he will be there for the festivities."
"Tolo ar nin (come with me), we have much to discuss before our departure!" Said Talion. Eothyn handed Gilraen his horse's reins and followed his father and their elven guests into the great hall. Before she could ask if she could join, the doors closed behind them. She huffed with frustration and blew into her small whistle to beckon Astar. Within seconds, the small falcon found his way to her arm and landed gracefully. He waddled up to her shoulder and perched on the leather padding, nudging her for a reward. She laughed and reached into her saddle bag for the dried meat and gave it to him. Stroking his wings, she looked back at the closed doors, knowing the conversation was about her future.
"I think it's perfectly indecent to plan a marriage without one's consent," she told him. Her falcon let out a small series of soft screeches which she interpreted as an agreement.
"You're lucky you do not have to worry about such things, Mellon nìn (my friend)," she told him, walking her steed and her cousin's back to the stable.
"I wonder what he's like…this elven king? From the little I have heard about him, he sounds callus and cold," she said, "what I don't understand, is why me? Why did he choose me?"
Astar tilted his head with curiosity as if he was just as stumped as she was. She took the horses into their stalls and secured them before safely putting the saddles back in the tack cellar. Grabbing a wooden bucket, she scooped a large portion of oats and grain and began feeding the horses their breakfast. A choir of hungry and excited whinnies echoed throughout the stable as she began to fill their feeding troughs. When she had finished, she took a broom and swept the alleyway, removing the dirt and stray pieces of hay from the floor.
A couple of hours later, Eothyn walked into the stable and motioned for her to follow him. Before she entered the great hall, Astar leapt off of her shoulder and flew over to a fence post to perch. She entered to find the elves and her uncle gathered around a large table in the center of the room.
"Gilraen. We apologize for the secrecy but we wanted to make sure all was in place before telling you," said Talion, pulling out a chair for her to sit in.
"Tell me what? The news of my apparent betrothal to the elven king?" she asked snidely. Eothyn immediately blushed and looked away from his father.
"How did you…?" he asked, his eyebrows twisted in confusion.
"Eothyn told me already," she shot back.
"Of course he did," he replied angrily, glancing over at his son, "that summons was confidential."
"She was going to find out either way," said her cousin. Talion gave him a cold and piercing side glance.
"That will be enough from you, boy," he said, nodding towards a chair, "sit please and kindly remain silent for the rest of this discussion."
Eothyn did as his father asked him, making a point to slam the chair on the ground before sitting. Gilraen held in her laughter as best as she could, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand. Elrohir and the other elves glanced around awkwardly, taking care not to get involved in the conflict. Talion cleared his throat and composed himself before speaking again.
"Many apologies, gentlemen. I believe Lord Feren has an official statement from the elven king to deliver before we begin with the proceedings," said Talion, gesturing to an elf across the table. Gilraen did not recognize him and noticed he was wearing duller tones than the elves who had come from Rivendell. His hair was almost as red as her own, but it was straight and fell over his shoulders with a neat elegance. He seemed nervous and a bit fidgety in the company of his kin, but stood and spoke with authority. He bowed in the direction of Talion and then Gilraen.
"My Lord,....my lady…, indeed I do. If you will allow me to do so, I will read it aloud," he replied, unrolling a sealed scroll. Talion nodded in approval and motioned for him to continue. Before he could begin, Gilraen interrupted the silence with her disapproval.
"If this is an official statement of the king's intent to marry, should he not deliver it himself?" she asked sarcastically. Feren swallowed hard and looked over at her uncle, setting the parchment back on the table.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked with a tone of shock.
"He has chosen me as his wife, has he not?" she replied.
"Gilraen…a great honor has been bestowed upon our house. You will address the king's council with respect," said Talion.
"It's alright, Talion, let her speak,"said Feren,"you have been chosen, my lady yes."
"Does he not want to meet his bride in person? Or is he too busy to bother with pleasantries?" she asked with a scowl on her face.
"Many apologies my lady, but the king thought it best to conduct the personal introductions in Rivendell," said Feren.
"Did he?" she asked, mockingly.
"He wanted to ensure everything was conducted properly under Lord Elrond's guidance," he replied sternly, "now if you please, I would like to get back to reading this so we can continue with all the proceedings."
"Very well…," she said.
She sat there crossing her arms, annoyed and partially embarrassed for the way she had spoken, but nodded in agreement.
"Thranduil Oropherion, King of Mirkwood and Lord of the woodland realm, thanks you for accepting his offer of marriage. By accepting these nuptials, the following will be granted to you and your kin: you will be given the title queen of Mirkwood and thus have free reign of the forest and the surrounding realm of the Elven kingdom. You will leave behind your home in Arnor and take permanent residence in the woodland realm. The remaining kin left behind will be granted an annual sum of gold to insure their security and survival. All Gilraen's living expenses and personal needs will be funded in full. No family dowry is expected for payment, and will not be required for Gilraen's agreement. The king wishes you well and looks forward to meeting you once you arrive in Imladris," said Feren, rolling up the scroll.
"That is quite a generous gesture is it not, Gilraen?" Talion asked, glancing over at his niece. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and shrugged.
"If you say so…," she replied.
"Excellent! I believe we have an accord, Feren," said Talion reaching across the table to shake the elf's hand. Feren happily followed suit, sealing the young woman's fate when their hands met.
"King Thranduil will be pleased. We should leave for Rivendell soon to make arrangements for the marriage," said Feren before sitting down. Elrohir then stood from his seat, and addressed the room.
"My company and I will be happy to lead your family safely to Imladris, Lord Talion," said the young elf.
"We would be most grateful. I will see to it that the lady and my family are packed and ready to leave at first light," Talion replied happily. The company of elves stood along with their leader and bowed reverently at Gilraen and her family. She and the rest of the Dunedain present stood in response and bowed as well.
"Abarad (until tomorrow)," said Elrohir before leaving the hall. Once the elves had left, Talion slammed his fist down on the table, making Eothyn and Gilraen jump.
"What on earth was that for??!!!" he yelled at Gilraen.
"What?!" she said back.
"Your behavior in that council was completely out of line!" he screamed.
"My behavior?! And I suppose planning an arranged marriage behind my back is perfectly acceptable!!" she replied angrily.
"You are of age and it is time for you to step up and accept your duty as a woman in this household," he said sternly to her.
"Oh, Is it also my duty to accept any proposal blindly just because my choices are made for me!?"
"I promised your father I would look after you and ensure your future is taken care of. This is what he would want for you!"
"DON'T YOU DARE ASSUME WHAT MY FATHER WOULD WANT!" she screamed, pushing her chair to the floor," he would allow me to speak for myself and choose my own path!"
"He is NOT here, Gilraen. I am your guardian and you will do as you are told!" yelled Talion. She walked up to her uncle until their noses were nearly touching. Her face was red and tears began to pool in her eyes. Her lips trembled as she spoke, but the fire in her eyes remained.
"He would be ashamed of you…" she said in an aggressive whisper, pain in her voice. Talion could not speak, and lowered his head in silence, her words like an icy dagger in his heart. She began to weep and left the hall, her cheeks soaked with salty streams of tears. When she had slammed the door behind her, Eothyn touched his father's shoulder and smiled.
"Let me talk to her. She just needs time," he said to Talion. His father nodded as he watched his son chase after Gilraen. He shook his head and exhaled with frustration.
"What am I going to do with her, brother? Please give me patience," he spoke to the empty room, as if his deceased sibling was still there.
#lee pace#king thranduil#amongst starlight#thranduil fanfiction#thranduil oropherion#king of carven wood and stone#king of mirkwood
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Hey!
I wanted to add my input to the list if possible?
I'm more than happy to help with:
Timelines of Arda (all ages)
Family trees specifically of the Noldor, Kings of Numenor and Chieftains of the Dunedain.
Canon locations (I can travel/ have travelled to Tolkien locations within England and will be visiting his grave again in Spring)
And I'm open to any asks, yes! I mean, anything to do with Tolkien's works I'm open to research and answer with enough time to read through all my books :)
.
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'Now let us take our ease here for a little!' said Aragorn. 'We will sit on the edge of ruin and talk, as Gandalf says, while he is busy elsewhere. I feel a weariness such as I have seldom felt before.' He wrapped his grey cloak about him, hiding his mail-shirt, and stretched out his long legs. Then he lay back and sent from his lips a thin stream of smoke.
'Look!' said Pippin. 'Strider the Ranger has come back!'
'He has never been away,' said Aragorn. 'I am Strider and Dúnadan too, and I belong both to Gondor and the North.'
I legitimately love this moment. Aragorn is someone with too many a lot of names and identities, and you sometimes get the idea that most of them are just pseudonyms in order to hide his real identity. And while that is partially true, it is equally true that each identity is a part of him, not just a disguise that he puts on.
He is Strider, not because it’s a mean-spirited nickname given to him in Bree, but because he loves and belongs to that country as much as he loves and belongs to Gondor.
He is Estel, not just because that was the name given to him as a child genuinely to hide his true identity, but because he inspires hope in others and brings it with him wherever he goes.
He is Dunadan, not just because he is the chieftain of the Dunedain and descendant or kings, but because the people who know him as the Dunedan, which includes Bilbo I might add, are just as important to him as the people who know him by other names.
He doesn’t cast one identity aside to become another, he is all of them at once; because he loves, serves, and belongs to all peoples who would know him enough to give him a name.
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King of Reunited Kingdom Daily Video.
(LOTR) Aragorn - Fate
#aragorn#estel#tribute#thorongil#elessar#strider#king of gondor#king of arnor#king of reunited kingdom#lord of the rings#chieftain of the dunedain
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[ apology ] a kiss offered as a way to apologize or make amends for Arathorn
There was no response from a recently returned Arathorn, at least not at first. But gradually the visible tension in his shoulders faded, although he had yet to properly look at his partner.
"Beleg."
@thegreatstrongbow
#thegreatstrongbow#~/ thorn hidden in scars and shadows \~ :: arathorn#ask: apology kiss#*|* find the man you are / meant to be *|* :: dunedain chieftain#*|* scars show that you are a survivor *|* :: arathorn lives
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For: Myndilon :: @roquenxnar
Unspecified Muse: Arathorn
There was a point at which his level of patience had a tendency to just... evaporate. And when that happened, it didn't bode well. Not many people actually managed to push him to that point though and those who did, preferred not to repeat the experience. Provided that they weren't dead that was; this was usually reserved for Orcs and anything or anyone in that category of evil.
Elladan and Elrohir on the other hand?
They were in a category all of their own. Simply because they liked to try and test his patience more than once. Not that Arathorn had ever lost his temper with them yet. ...Although it wasn't from lack of trying. As much he appreciated the twins for getting him back to Rivendell in time to save his life, he also had a limit.
A lone slate grey eye gazed out across the Bruinen Ford, hidden from sight. The Dunedain Chieftain wasn't in the slightest bit bothered about making himself known to folk. Elrond knew where to find if he was needed as did some of his kin. But no one else did and he was grateful for that.
As the last of the sunlight started to fade away, Arathorn was thinking about moving to visit Tornhad. At least, until he heard footsteps nearing and stood up to see who it was. Not at all surprised to see the old elf.
"Myndilon."
#roquenxnar :: myndilon#~/ thorn hidden in scars and shadows \~ :: arathorn#when one door closes | another door opens :: starter#*|* find the man you are/ meant to be *|* :: dúnedain chieftain#*|* scars show that you are a survivor *|* arathorn lives#*|* a peaceful valley untouched by evil *|* :: imladris#got lost along the old forest road :: queue
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Art for "Muster of the North
So I recently threw myself at Hero Forge, because drawing isn´t a skill I possess and I prefer 3D models sometimes to visualize my characters. And then, because I´m a lunatic like that, I decided "hey, wouldn´t it be cool if I tried to recreate scenes from my stories?".
So yeah ... this is the first result. The full story here on AO3.
Despite his official role as their chieftain, the oldest heir of Isildur has surprisingly little hand in the muster of the dunedain. It is his sister who greets the rangers arriving from the wilderness, who oversees supplies and training, with Gyltor and Geralt at her sides. It leaves Aragorn to his own devices a lot, which he uses to show Boromir the life of his people. They roam far into the Downs in search of prey to bring back to Fornost, often going for hours without a word. Boromir is not used to silence, but he learns to value it, It´s no hostility there, in the quiet of the woods. No expectations to be Gondor´s next savior, or his father´s perfect heir. He starts to see why Faramir loves it so much to be out in the wilds, alone with the other fighters of Ithilien. One can be himself out here.
v.l.n.r: Boromir, Faradhmellon, Gwaemaeron, Aragorn
[A screenshot of a 3D model created in Hero Forge. To the left most is Boromir, aiming a short bow at something outside the picture, dressed in greenish-brown clothes edged in light gold fur, with a green cloak edged in light red fur. His black hair is tied back in a half tail and he has a stubble. On his belt are a curved dagger in a leather sheath and a quiver with arrows with orange fledging. Next to him is a dog with reddish-brown fur and a fluffy tail, looking in the same direction as the arrow. Aragorn stands a little to the right and behind, a gold eagle with spread wings perched on his right, outstreched arm and holding a short bow in the other hand. His clothes are green and blue, with reddish fur on the edgings, a gray-brown cloak, and his dark brown hair is swept back. His complexion is a little darker than Boromir´s and the arrows in his quiver fledged bright yellow.]
"Have you ever seen it, Aragorn?", he asks on one evening around the campfire. Halbarad has drawn last watch and is already asleep, but Aragorn and Boromir are still awake and watch the stars. "The Tower of Guard?"
"I have seen the White City and the Tower of Ecthelion, years ago."
[A 3D model of Aragorn and Boromir by a campfire. Aragorn is to the left, wearing the same clothes as in the picture above minus the cloak and his gear. He is holding a pipe in his right hand and is looking upwards. Boromir is to his left, on the right of the observer, equally wearing the same clothes as above and eating from a bowl, eyes fixed on the campfire before them.]
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