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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 1 year

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Here's an interesting fucked up 'what if' LotR scenario my brain came up with while I was trying to sleep last night. Something I figured you might find thought provoking as well.

Apologies for the long post, and I'll preface it all by saying I based this on the movies only - I've never read the actual books.

What if Grima Wormtongue wasn't just Theoden's counsellor, but also his illegitimate child?

It happened when Theoden was young - before he married Elfhild, and before Theodred was born. Grima was Theoden's firstborn.

He wanted to acknowledge Grima as his son, but couldn't, because this could have given Grima a claim to the throne, and his parents wanted his heir to be the child of his upcoming marriage to Elfhild, which was then being arranged. Queen Morwen made it clear that by-blow sons from lowborn country girls do not future kings make. Or, maybe Grima's mother was foreign-born (hence the dark hair) and the Rohirrim were a bit xenophobic and wanted a nice, blonde boy as their heir instead.

Theoden took care of Grima. He arranged for him to be educated, then brought him to court and gave him a good job with influence and authority - something appropriate for a King's son.

He never publicly acknowledged Grima, even in his later years, but everyone in Theoden's inner circle knew the truth.

This is why Grima became Theoden's right-hand man, and gained 'undue' influence over him. Everyone just looked at the setup and said 'well, that's the King's secret son, he's just helping his old man out, it's totally fine'.

Not helped by the fact that Theodred wasn't much interested in the business of running the kingdom, and preferred to spend his time hunting or chasing pretty girls (my headcanon), so Grima stepped into the gap that Theodred should have filled.

Saruman knew as well. He sought Grima out, whispered in his ear, persuaded him to act on feelings he'd previously kept to himself.

Grima sold out to Saruman because he resented his position, and his lack of recognition. As the eldest son, he thought he should be Theoden's heir. His parentage and birth status shouldn't matter.

This is why Grima 'assisted' Theodred's death in The Two Towers. Not just to weaken Rohan and further Saruman's plans - to get rid of the competition - the half brother who had everything he didn't.

It's also why Grima had his eye on Eowyn. Not just because she was young and beautiful - also because she was highborn and of the royal line, so a marriage to her would strengthen his claim to the throne. Think Henry VII of England marrying Elizabeth of York.

It's why Grima cried when he saw Saruman's army at Isengard - he realized he was about to be party to his own people's destruction. He's angry at being excluded, but not THAT angry.

Aragorn knew, because he was around when Theoden's thing with Grima's mother happened. It's why Aragorn stopped Theoden from killing Grima on the steps of Meduseld - fathers should never have to kill their sons, even when many would say doing so was justified.

Saruman's comment to Theoden at Isengard has two meanings now. Theoden's not the only man there who's the 'lesser son of a greater sire' - he means Grima as well.

It's why Theoden offered Grima mercy at Isengard, reminded him he was a man of Rohan, asked him to come back, instead of just writing him off. One last appeal from father to son.

It's why Grima attacked Saruman - one last moment of loyalty to his father and his King.

I freely admit this is all totally whack, but if it's okay to write a story where Aragorn meets Harry Potter, why not an AU like this?

I might actually try to write this one day, just for shits and giggles :)

So first, I love all of this and I am here for Bastard Son!Grima. He's out here to have conflicted emotions, a desire for a Family and Acceptance, hurt everyone around him, and to make some of the world's worst decisions.

Also, I feel like there's no need for things to be, idk, "believable" in fanfic re: premise. The whackier the premise the better - because then the characters have to react and it's a fun challenge to be like "so how would Theoden, as we know him, react in this situation wherein he's been betrayed by his son who he loves but also never really was able to demonstrate that to" etc.

and tbf we know literally nothing about Grima's background aside from his father's name - but that can be smudged/a reference to a grandfather/whatever (also Galmod means lust/desire so Grima being a by-blow resulting from Theoden's desire...) - so this is no more crazy than literally anyone else's theory on the matter.

Naturally I think you should write it! I would read the heck out of it.

<3 <3 <3

#grima wormtongue #lotr #lord of the rings #theoden #ask #reply #anon

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zukoscomet · 3 years

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I realised recently that I never actually collated all the ideas I had about my Zutara kids so here, have some steambabies! Idk I just really like the idea of Katara and Zuko having a big family after all they’ve lost when they were young, and as an only child, I guess I kind of romanticise the idea of having siblings.

TW: I hc that Katara would have had a miscarriage, so if that is a trigger for you then maybe don’t read on.

Shameless plug but if you wanna read more about this, my series on AO3 is roots and wings.

Their firstborn is a boy who they name Kai after Kya. His full name is Kaito but nobody who knows him ever calls him that, not even when he’s in trouble. I’m not going to go into too much context about like the pregnancy bc you can already find that stuff here. He turns out very much like Zuko physically - tall, golden irises, straight black hair, narrow angular face - but he has mixed tawny skin and his eyes are shaped round and wide like Katara. He’s born on the last day of summer in 109 AG, so because of superstition that firebenders are born in peak summer, there’s some uncertainty about what he’ll bend - if at all - but then when he’s three and a half, he makes a flame. Iroh trains him to firebend until he’s about 16, then he goes off to the Sun Warriors for a year to finish off, and he ends up a very spiritual firebender. Kai is like the dream first child - the softest boy ever to live - and when Katara and Zuko go on to have more children, he’s a really great big brother, like wholeheartedly adores his little sibs even if they drive him completely nuts about 95% of the time. He’s quite a conflicted and confused kid growing up. He’s never quite sure of what he wants in life but finally, when he’s 17, he decides that he realises that he doesn’t want to be Fire Lord and passes along the heir status to his sister. After that he joins the Sun Warriors and eventually marries the chief’s daughter, Himari, and they have two firebender girls, Aiko and Sol.

Izumi arrives not long after her brother in 110 AG. Katara and Zuko planned to wait but it ends up that there’s barely a year between Kai and Izumi and it comes as an extra shock as Katara didn’t figure out she was pregnant again till like 18 weeks in. Katara goes into labour early at 35 weeks and Izumi is born really small - she never completely catches up either and it’s hilarious because after successive generations of tall male Fire Lords, they get Izumi who’s barely 5 feet - but she’s otherwise fine. She’s physically a mish-mash so overall she resembles nobody especially - Katara’s hair, complexion and big round eyes, Zuko’s irises, Azula’s heart-shaped face and highly arched brow line, Hakoda’s facial features. The superstition about summer births for firebenders peters out real quick when Izumi, born in the autumn, bends blue fire at two and a half and, taught by Jeong Jeong, she grows into a prodigal master. When she’s young, Izumi is the polar opposite of her brother - feisty, stubborn, determined and whip smart - and she’s a heathen teenager but by about 15 she mellows and matures, and part of Kai’s reasoning for abdicating is that Izumi seems a better fit for Fire Lord. Izumi was always kinda apathetic to kids but at 19, she accidentally gets pregnant and has her son, Kazuo, then her daughter, Kira, eleven years later. Izumi becomes Fire Lord at 37 but she only rules for about 14 years before retiring. Since she had Kaz so young, if she stayed on the throne much longer, Kaz would also be an older man when it came time for him to inherit, so she decides to step aside and Kaz is coronated just after his 33rd birthday.

(Kazuo takes after his Gran Gran in more ways than just his blue eyes; he’s a waterbender so Kaz is the first waterbender Fire Lord)

After a break, Katara and Zuko decide to try for a third addition and Katara gives birth - in the Southern Water Tribe, for the first time - to Bashira, four years after Izumi. Shira looks probably the most like Zuko out of all the children, even more than her elder brother does. They share the same tall and lean physique, the same long black hair, Shira is mixed but still the palest of all the steambabies and their faces are practically identical. They’re characteristically very similar, too - serious, intense and reserved. The only differences is that her hair is curly, her eyes are blue and finally, Katara gets her waterbending child. Both of them suspected that Shira was going to be a waterbender even at the early stages of the pregnancy, but it’s still super exciting when Shira tosses a wave at her elder siblings when she’s two. Katara is teaching her as soon as she possibly can but over time some tension develops between them when Shira turns out to be quite different from her mom in terms of natural bending style. Shira is very fight-oriented, she learns dao swords from Zuko and never shows as much of an interest in the healing arts, but when things blow up and eventually Shira is able to explain that she wants to be able fight like her mom did during the war, things straighten out and Katara guides Shira all the way through to mastery. She eventually moves to the South in her late teens to lead the tribe’s warriors. There, she has three children - waterbender twins Kenzo and Kenji, then a daughter named Kanna who’s a firebender like Grandpa - but the marriage to their father doesn’t last and in her 50s, she ends up in a relationship with Aang and Toph’s daughter, Lin.

Katara gets pregnant for a fourth time - planned - just after Shira turns two, but this time she has a miscarriage. Zuko was overseas when it happened so she went through it alone. Katara is devastated and resents Zuko for not being there. She knows it’s not his fault but she can’t help her emotions and that makes her feel even worse so she just shuts down - stops doing her Fire Lady work, stops spending any more time with Zuko and their children than necessary, won’t let the rest of the family visit them and spends most of the day lying in bed. Zuko doesn’t know how to help her so initially he decides to give her space to grieve however she feels she needs to, but it just deteriorates until one day Zuko suggests that maybe they should both go to therapy or marriage counselling or something because it can’t go on like this. Katara just completely loses it at that and ends up yelling at him all the things that she’d been bottling up over the last couple of months. Katara says some awful things and she’s expecting Zuko to take it poorly, hence why she kept it all inside up till now, but Zuko just accepts every bit of it and after that, she’s finally able to grieve properly and mend.

About six months after they come back together, they decide to try again and Katara eventually falls pregnant. The pregnancy itself goes smoothly but both of them are so stressed about something going wrong like last time and the effect that might have on both of them, then Gran Gran passes away when Katara is in her thirtieth week, so the full ten months were incredibly hard-going.

It’s a big relief when the baby is finally born on Ember Island, three years after Shira in 117 AG. They name her Lili in honour of their recent losses, since lilies can ease scars and Iroh once referred to them as lights in darkness. From the beginning, Lili is the image of Katara in every way physically and characteristically - kind, patient, gentle, but does have quite a temper if she’s pushed too far. She’s also a waterbender, though it takes her a little longer to manifest her abilities than any of her siblings, first gaining control of the water at the age of six. Lili is incredibly endearing, as both a child and an adult, and she becomes so particularly popular with the Fire Nation public that the firebending qualification to be considered an heir to the throne is reversed, so Shira and Lili are inducted into the succession. Born in the same year, Lili had a long-term relationship with Tenzin, Aang and Toph’s thirdborn, but as they grew older, Tenzin was concerned that if he married her, their children would have heritage of all four elements and degrade the chances of Tenzin producing airbenders and continuing the Air Nation. That concern resulted in a kind of on-again-off-again thing but eventually Lili sent him off with an "I don’t want to be with someone that isn’t even sure he wants me" and went travelling the world for a few years. When they’re both in their thirties though, Lili and Tenzin reconnect and get back together, eventually marrying and producing five children - Jinora, Aya, Hiro, Rohan and Kano, the elder four airbenders and the youngest a waterbender.

A few months after Lili is born, Sokka and Suki have a baby girl and when Katara and Zuko go to visit their new niece, they agree that night on a spur-of-the-moment that they want one more child. The morning after, they talk about it properly and decide it’d be better to wait till Lili was a bit older, but Katara found out six weeks later that that one time had been successful. About halfway through, they find out that they’re expecting a boy and Katara is especially excited since their son had always been more closely attached to her whereas their girls were very firmly Daddy’s girls. Sure enough, when Kallik arrives in 118 AG, he’s a big Mama’s boy and remains so his entire life. Apart from his curly black hair, Kallik is the spitting image of his uncle, to the point that Hakoda says that seeing Lili and Kallik together is like seeing young Katara and Sokka. Kallik is the hardest to handle out of their children - loud, playful, mischievous and an exhausting troublemaker. All of the siblings fight like cat and dog but Kallik and Izumi are by far the worst, on the level of one walks into a room and the other is like “And I took that personally” and they never seem to grow out of it even when they’re both old and grey. Kallik is the only nonbender in the family and initially he struggles with this a bit but he spends a lot of time hanging out with Uncle Sokka, learns dao swords with Shira and Zuko, and by the time he hits his teens, he comes to view it more as something that sets him apart from his siblings. When he’s 18, he goes to join the United Forces and he stays in service till his late thirties, when he meets Ren, another serviceman from the Northern Water Tribe. After beginning a relationship with him, the pair settle in Republic City and end up adopting two daughters, Kirima and Alasie.

About a decade after Kallik is born, it seems like things are kind of slowly drawing to a close as the kids are getting older - Kai is 19 and has left home, Izumi is 18 and living away in Republic City while she studies at university, Shira is 14 and already talking about moving South the first chance she gets, Lili is 11 and wanting to go Northern Water Tribe to train with the healers there, and Kallik is 10 and dreaming of being a great military commander like Grandpa Koda and Uncle Sokka - when suddenly Katara starts to get really, really sick. Zuko is absolutely terrified, thinking that there’s something seriously wrong with his wife, but after some deduction, it turns out that Katara is actually pregnant again. The relief at realising she’s not dying is short-lived and the reaction from both of them is basically holy shit holy fuck we are too old for this our other kids are practically all grown up now we are done with babies we can't seriously have six children what are we going to do. There’s a lot of discussion, especially since Katara is 43 by then and the risks for her to be carrying another child are higher, but they ultimately decide to go through with it. Ironically, it’s the easiest of all her pregnancies and when Katara delivers a baby girl in Republic City in 128 AG, there hadn’t been a single complication to speak of. Iroh had passed away two years earlier, devastating the whole family but Zuko in particular, but the baby is born with his irises - a darker gold - so they name her Ilah. Her eyes are big and round like Katara’s but other than that, Ilah resembles her Grandma Ursa most strongly, with her thick chestnut-coloured hair and slight, delicate facial features. Naturally, Katara and Zuko think all their babies were the cutest baby but Ilah is probably objectively the cutest, with her big honey-coloured eyes, chubby cheeks and soft little curls.

Inevitably, since Kai, Shira, Lili and Kallik had all either left home before she was born or did so when she was still a little girl, Ilah gets a lot more concentrated attention from Katara and Zuko. She’s completely spoiled and doted upon by the whole family, including her elder brothers and sisters who visit her as often as they can manage. Since Izumi still lives in the palace permanently as the Crown Princess, she and Ilah are close, but Ilah ultimately ends up being closest with Izumi’s son, Kaz, who is only a year younger than his aunt. Ilah was even in the room when Kaz was born, though it wasn't an intentional move. Zuko was supposed to be watching Ilah when things got intense with Izumi’s labour but things escalated from 0-100 real fast and Katara didn't have time to hand Ilah off, so she stayed tucked in a sling on her mother’s back as Katara helped her eldest daughter to deliver her own baby, somehow sleeping through all the noise and commotion. Ilah and Kaz end up more like a brother and sister or best friends than an aunt and nephew, though Kaz always calls her Auntie Ilah when he’s teasing her. Ilah is perhaps the shyest around strangers of her siblings, uninterested in celebrity and attention, but she’s the most adventurous, determined and creative, interested in science and invention from an early age. Growing up, Ilah felt a little pressured by the renown of her family, especially when her firebending turned out to be just about average in power, but when she’s 12, Ilah figures out that she can combustionbend. From there, she applies her bending abilities to science and when she leaves home for university, she invents the combustion engine at age 20. The rest of her adult life is spent travelling virtually non-stop, working on innovation projects for the different nations. She never has children, on the account that it would be unfair to expect a kid to move around as much as she does and she’s happy enough with her numerous nieces and nephews, but she eventually marries her long-time girlfriend Li-Mei, an Air Nomad tasked with searching the world for new airbenders.

#zutara #katara #zuko #katara x zuko #avatar: the last airbender #steambabies #momtara and dadko

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handmaiden-of-varda · 3 years

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Grief

Pairing: Éomer x fem! reader

Summary: You and Éomer were betrothed, but when you discovered that you were dying from a poisoned wound, you decided leaving him would be best

Warning: Angst. Lots and lots of angst. Arguing. Stubborness. Bittersweet ending. Character death

A/N: Are you looking to torture yourself with a long, angsty fic? Then this is for you. I'm sorry folks, I just had to write this. Things had been really tough, and whenever I got depressed I would write sad stuff because my heart needs to be broken more. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

Pain. It was all you could feel after you woke up. You sat up with a groan, feeling as if your whole body was on fire.

"(Y/N)? Are you alright?"

You glanced at Aragorn, who were watching you from his spot by the bedside with a concerned expression.

"I'm fine, Aragorn. You need not worry about me."

He didn't look convinced however. "It's the pain again isn't it? Do you need more herbs to reduce the pain?"

You sighed. There was no point hiding it from him, he was the one who treated your wound afterall.

"It's alright, truly. I know there's no cure for this, so I might as well get used to it."

"You don't know that! Do not lose hope, (Y/N)."

"I would not lose hope if there was one to begin with. Even Lord Elrond could do nothing about it. I am simply being realistic." You argued.

"So you would rather bear the pain for the rest of your days? To have us watch you suffer?"

"What else can I do?"

He went silent for a while. "What about Éomer? Don't you think he deserve to know?"

It was your turn to fall silent. You and Éomer were courting before you left to join the fellowship. None of you knew for sure if you were going to meet again, so when he discovered that you were alive after the Battle of Helm's Deep, he asked for your hand in marriage and you vowed to remain by his side.

But that didn't last long. You had taken a poisoned arrow for him during the last battle, which weakened your body significantly despite all the efforts made to treat you. Unfortunately, the poison had spread and you didn't have long to live. Only Lord Elrond, Aragorn and Gandalf knew of your real condition.

"He doesn't need to know," you paused. "No, he cannot know. I will not let him be burdened by me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I need to leave."

Aragorn's eyes widened in disbelief. "Leave? Leave - surely you don't mean that?"

"Yes, Aragorn. I mean it," you said. "I do not regret saving him - I would gladly do it again in a heartbeat, but I also cannot let him live his life knowing the consequence of my action. He has just ascended the throne, and given my condition, I am no longer fit to be his wife."

"And what of the consequence, should you leave?" He asked quietly.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your tears from spilling. It broke your heart to even consider this, and you knew it would break him too, but you decided it was for the best. You were dying. You loved him too much to let him suffer much worse than a broken promise.

"I would rather have him hate me, than for him to live with the grief of my passing."

"Even if that meant spending your life away from everyone who care about you?"

"Even then." By doing this, you thought you would also spare them from having to watch you pass away.

Aragorn finally relented. He wished you weren't so stubborn, that you wouldn't make such a painful decision alone. From what he knew of Éomer, he was certain the young king loved you just as much that he wouldn't leave you to face it all alone. Being one of your closest friends, however, Aragorn was fully aware that nothing he could do would sway you once you made up your mind.

He sighed. "Do you know where you will go?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. I admit this... is all too sudden, but I will find a way."

"Have you really thought about this? He needs you now more than ever."

"I have. And I need him too, but I have to do this for us."

He nodded. "You are in no condition to make a long trip. Go to Lossarnach. It is a safe and beautiful place not far from here. I will arrange everything. Will you at least say goodbye to the others?"

"Don't worry, I will."

"Very well. I do not condone this, (Y/N), but I will honor your wish. I hope you are right - that this is for the best."

"Thank you, Aragorn."

. . .

Éomer was furious. He did not understand why you would go, leaving nothing but a letter behind, after everything you had been through and after your vows. Did you not mean what you have said?

In the letter, you wrote that you wouldn't be able to fulfill your promise, that you were leaving and that you were sorry. No explanation, nothing.

He spent days racking his brain, trying to think what could possibly be the reason behind your departure. He knew you were wounded from the battle, having pushed him out of harm's way, and he had stayed in Gondor after Aragorn's coronation to accompany you while you were unconscious. But lately he had been busy with his duties as the new King of Rohan, and when he finally received the news of you regaining consciousness, you were already gone.

And it finally dawned on him - Aragorn must know something. So with a newfound hope, he sought out the other king.

As he stood before the entrance of the council room, he could hear voices from inside. He was about to turn to leave when he heard your name being mentioned, so he decided to linger.

"So she left just like that?" He knew that voice. Gimli.

"You read her letter, Master Dwarf." Aragorn said.

"Yes, yes but that didn't explain why she didn't say it to us directly!"

"She has her... difficulties."

"What is so difficult about saying goodbye to your own friends in person? Do we mean nothing at all to her? You better explain everything now, Aragorn, if you still see me as your companion."

Éomer found himself agreeing with the dwarf. But he would not reveal himself, not yet.

He heard Aragorn sigh.

"You put me in a tight spot, Gimli. You are a dear friend of mine, of course, but if I tell you then everything we have done would be in vain."

"Oh, so you play a part in her departure? I cannot believe this. Fine, if you're not going to tell then I will leave as well."

"Wait!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Very well. I will tell you, but for her sake please do keep this information to yourself."

"I'm listening."

"You know that she was wounded during the battle, right?" A pause. "Well, the arrow that pierced her was poisoned, and we were too late. The poison has entered her system and weakened her body, and there has been no cure to clear out the strange, deadly poison. I'm afraid she doesn't have much longer. She knew this. So she decided to spend the remainder of her days away, to spare us from having to watch her die."

"You mean to tell me (Y/N) is dying?? And you let her go, just like that?"

"Lower your voice, Gimli."

When Éomer heard this, his heart sank. He couldn't breathe. You were dying. You were dying because of him, and he had been oblivious, even accused you. He didn't care anymore as he barged into the room, surprising both Aragorn and Gimli.

"Where is she now?" He demanded.

Aragorn pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You heard us."

Normally, Éomer would be ashamed of himself for eavesdropping. But right now, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Yes, Aragorn, where is she now?" Gimli urged.

Aragorn sighed. "She is in Lossarnach, in Imloth Melui. I have assigned a handmaid and a healer to look after her." I'm sorry (Y/N).

With the speed of light, Éomer ran out of the room to ready his horse. By noon he was already galloping towards Lossarnach, his heart beating faster and he hoped he would find you before it was too late.

. . .

You let out a small smile as you painted the beautiful scenery before you. The sun was beginning to cascade, tracing the sky with warm hues of pink, blue and orange. Flowers of every kind and colour scattered around the hill, swaying lightly in the gentle breeze. It was serene, yet it did nothing to dull the pain in your body. You felt a pang in your heart as you thought about your friends, about him, and you put down your brush.

"My lady?" Your handmaid asked beside you.

"I'm done for the day."

She nodded, gathering your supplies and leading you back to your house. Aragorn had given you a nice place to live, and you couldn't thank him enough for his help despite not agreeing with your actions. You sighed.

"I would like to walk alone." Before she could protest, you added, "I shall not be far. I just wish to clear out my head."

"Very well, my lady."

You walked slowly across the hill and to the bridge that overlooked a waterfall. You gazed sadly towards the sky and closed your eyes. You could hear footsteps coming your way, but you paid them no heed.

"I believe you owe me an explanation."

You went still. You recognized the voice.

Slowly, you turned your body to look at the owner of the voice. If your heart hadn't been broken already, it would've shattered to pieces when you saw the hurt in his face. He must've known then.

"Éomer," you breathed.

He walked closer to you. "Do you think so little of me?"

"I'm sorry - I... I know I am being stubborn, childish even. But I need to do this."

"Then explain to me, why did you do this? To me, to your friends? Do we mean naught to you? Do I mean nothing?"

"You mean everything to me, Éomer. This is why I didn't want you know that I'm dying."

"I will find a cure. There must be something-"

"Éomer," you cut him off. "It's alright. Don't bother. I have made my peace with it."

"But I have not!" He snapped. "I'm sorry. I... I wish it would have been me instead and not you."

"This was my choice," you whispered sadly. "I do not regret it."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why do you have to do this? Why did you choose to leave?"

"You don't understand, Éomer. I'm dying. I cannot fulfill my duties as your wife, as your Queen. I cannot help you with your burdens, I cannot carry an heir for you. And I certainly cannot let you watch me die," your voice broke as you held back a sob. "The kingdom is recovering. They need you now more than ever, and they need a strong Queen to rule by your side. I am not she. And I even if I was, the people couldn't afford another loss. Not so soon." I don't want you to mourn for me.

"So you thought leaving was the best." He said quietly.

Your head bowed down. He moved swiftly to cup your face, wiping the lone tear that escaped your eye with his thumb.

"We did not go through so much for you to say that. You know that I love you for you, and I care not for all those things. If you could choose to save me, if you could choose to leave, then I can choose to stay and face it with you, no matter the consequences. Just - just let me take care of you. Please." His eyes were pleading. "I would rather spend my whole life missing you but knowing that you were surrounded with love and joy in your last moments, than to live in regret for letting you suffer alone."

"But what of the people? Rohan needs you, Rohan needs her Queen."

He took your hands in his. "You are already a Queen in their eyes, my love. The people love you, and they have choosen you. They remember everything you have done for them, for Rohan. They know that there will be no King of Rohan if it wasn't for you. You have done your duties, and they will expect nothing more from you. We will face everything with you, together."

"Then so be it."

. . .

You could feel your time was approaching near, but you were not afraid. As Éomer promised, you had spent the remainder of your days in bliss, surrounded by your loved ones.

You had returned to Minas Tirith before continuing your way to Edoras, your home. To your surprise, your friends understood why you did what you did even though it pained them, some even accompanied you in Edoras. And true to his word, the people accepted you regardless of your condition. Of course, you still helped whenever you could, and they took a great care of you. Everything was going well.

"Éomer?"

He hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you both laid down on the bed. "Yes, darling?"

"Can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything for you, my love."

"Promise me that you will move on and be happy."

He looked down at you with sorrow. He was painfully aware of what was going on, and he tried his best to fight his tears. "I cannot."

"You told me you would do anything," you mumbled. Your eyelids grew heavy and breathing had become difficult, but you needed to hear it from him.

"I cannot lie to you, (Y/N). I will live well, this I can promise you. But there shall be no other, for you are the only one for me and it will remain so until we are reunited again. Will you... will you wait for me?"

"If there is another life beyond death, I will wait for you." You gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Éomer. For everything."

You pressed your lips to his for the last time.

And with that, you closed your eyes as your soul left your body, bringing his heart with you to the afterlife.

Masterlist

#eomer x reader #eomer fanfic #eomer fanfiction #eomer imagine #eomer #lotr x reader #lotr reader insert #lotr oneshot #lotr fanfic #middle earth x reader #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien reader insert #angst #eomer x you #lotr

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elfy-elf-imagines · 4 years

Text

Return to Me P.II | Lindir

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Lindir x Human!reader

Genre: Fluff, pure fluff

Warnings: Potential toothaches...??

Words: 2,174

Note: If you’d like to be added to a tag list for any of my works, there’s a link on my page! 12 years later we get Part 2 and the reunion of my two beans ♡

The sun is partially bright on this day, it seems, as if the sky itself is celebrating the return of Gondor’s king. Wind dances through the courtyard, making dance partners with everyone in the crowd, moving your dress with its beat. Your hair, pinned in a simple hairstyle often worn by the elves, is curled to perfection, bouncing in tune with birds singing in the distance. There’s a stupidly large grin on your face, one that you don’t care to try and force away. Everything in the past year or so has led to this very moment, every impossible moment and near death experience made it possible for peace to truly be restored to the realms as Aragorn takes his throne. The crowd is silent, watching the coronation with bated breath and wide eyes, excited and hopeful for the new chapter in their lives. Some people near the front desperately move around, trying to get a better look.

“Now comes the day of the king, may they be blessed!” Gandalf proclaims as he lowers the crown on Aragorn’s head. Aragorn smiles up at Gandalf, the same soothing smile that makes it easy to understand Arwen’s love for him and makes it even easier to understand the love the people hold for him. He stands from his kneeling position, turning to face the cheering crowd. His cloak billows dramatically behind him, showing off his perfectly polished armor, that glimmers with the regalness expected of a king. One hand rests on the pommel of his blade while his other is outstretched.

“This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world; that we may share in the days of peace.” He holds both of his hands out, his voice soft, yet confident, speaking as Elessar, the King of Gondor, the rightful heir returned to his throne; not Strider, the Ranger in the North. He commands the attention of everyone just by simply being in a room, never needing to raise his voice higher than a comfortable talking volume.

You glance at Gimli beside you, his wild red hair and beard somewhat tamed for the special event, the beads in his hair that accessorize his braids glint brightly in the sun. He holds a plush velvet pillow that moments prior Aragorn’s crown that adorns his head used to rest on. He wears a large grin you’re sure is also on your face, as relieved and ecstatic for the new era as you. You move your gaze back to Aragorn, white blossoms from The White Tree blowing in the wind, captivating your attention. Like a child catching snow, you hold out a hand, hoping to capture a blossom or two. You manage to get three. You close your hand around them, feeling the silky petals on your skin. A moment later, you open your hand and blow on the flowers, urging them to continue flying through the wind.

And they do, they dance in the air, a beautiful waltz you could never hope to mimic.

Aragorn descends down the stairs, nodding his head at every familiar face he passes. The procession of elves march forward, but it’s not the uptight and rigid way they march into battle, no it’s too relaxed and loose for that. Legolas steps forward, wearing ceremonial garb fitting of an elven prince, him and Aragorn clasping each other's arm. Aragorn says something to him, too quiet for you to hear. Legolas smirks, and moves his head to the left. The elves behind him move forward, one of them holding a particularly large banner, the sigil on it familiar.

A bright smile forms on your face and your eyes practically glow in excitement. You’ve seen that banner a million times, when you would walk up and down the halls of Imladris, hung in the Hall of Fire, and even in your bedroom. She’s here, she’s really here. You knew that she wouldn’t leave for Valinor without a fight, but seeing her here, in person, puts out any lingering doubt.

Slowly, she moves the banner aside, confirming it to be Arwen, beautiful and radiant as ever. She wears a pale green flowy dress, it’s fabric light and airy, the style common for elves, a stark difference to the heavy and thick dresses of Gondor and Rohan. A headpiece forged from silver and inlaid with dozens of glittering gems adorns her head, crowing her lucious black hair that falls down her back like a lazy waterfall. Her pale skin glows in the warm sunlight, her eyes sparkling from the tears forming.

For a moment, Aragorn and Arwen stare at each other, one watching the other with amazement and love in their eyes. The crowd is dead silent, everyone intently watching the scene unraveling before them. Then Aragorn steps forward, grabbing onto the banner and pulling it away. And then he lunges forward, capturing her lips into a kiss. She laughs in delight, throwing her arms around his as he lifts her into the air, spinning her around. They pull away for a moment and she places her dainty hands on his face, leaning forward and placing a short and sweet kiss on his lips.

The crowd around them begins clapping loudly, warmly greeting their new queen. And it didn’t register in your mind that this might be the first time most of these people have seen an elf this close up. But then you saw the looks of wonder and amazement on the faces of some citizens, children excitedly pulling on the skirts of their mothers, pointing wildly at Arwen and the other elves.

You continue watching the newly reunited pair, your face growing numb from the large smile that is permanently etched on your face. You scan the crowd, seeing Lord Elrond, with a soft smile on his face; Glorfindel beside him; Elladan and Elrohir behind his father to the right. You continue scanning the crowd, but then your heart stops, only to begin beating again faster than ever before.

Standing amidst the other elves, wearing silken and beautiful ceremonial garb, probably the most pristine outfit he owns, is Lindir. His black hair is glossy, every strand in its place, pulled back in an intricate elven braid. He wears a silver circlet, fitting for an elf of his status, the tip of it resting on his forehead. His skin is glowing, not as intensely as Arwen, but captivating to you. His cheeks are stained a pale red, a beautiful smile on his face. His blue eyes move to you and for the first time in over a year, your eyes meet. You feel a jolt of electricity run through your body, heart beat increasing in pace.

Your smile widens, if possible, and you can’t tear your gaze away from him. Even when Aragorn and Arwen begin to move through the crowd, your eyes stay locked on him. When you, along with everyone else, bow for the Hobbits, your eyes only flit away for a second before returning to their previous position. And when the crowds begin to disperse, everyone mingling with one another as they lazily move towards the feast portion of the Coronation, you stay locked in place.

“You coming, lassi?” Gimli’s gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, but his voice is so far away, you weren’t sure if he was still by you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, moving your gaze back to Lindir, still in his same spot.

“Yeah...I’ll be there in a moment,” you mutter, not sure if he even hears the words that fall from your mouth. He scoffs in amusements and shakes his head before moving away with Gandalf, muttering something about young love.

You take one step forward, Lindir mimicking your movements.

You take another step and so does Lindir.

Once your feet touch the stone steps, your mind suddenly comes alive, as if water got thrown over your body. As if you only have a few moments to live, you rush towards Lindir, weaving through the lingering people with the grace of a baby elephant. But you can’t bring yourself to care about the wild stares or accusing words falling from people’s lips. The only thing you can focus on is Lindir, and feeling his lips against yours.

Three.

Two.

One.

The distance between you two disappears as you throw your arms around him, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric of his robes beneath your fingers. He’s warm and inviting and everything you missed while travelling with The Fellowship. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling as close as physically possible. The smell of mountain air, fields of grass, and rose oil hits your senses, pulling you deeper and deeper into your bliss. He’s real and he’s here. You deeply inhale once more, allowing this moment to sink in, immersing yourself in the moment.

You move your head to face him, throwing your head back in delight as a stream of laughter leaves your mouth. You move your arms to wrap around his neck, one of his hands winding around your waist and the other lightly cupping your face. Like magnets you move closer to one another, staring deeply into each other’s eyes with dumb smiles on your face.

“You came back to me,” he whispers, the words tickling your lips.

“I came back,” you reply.

You don’t remember who did it, all you know is his lips are now on yours, connecting them in a kiss. His lips are soft against yours, filling your whole body with a fire, burning away the ice that formed in his absence. Your heart soars, long past the point of just beating rapidly against your chest. You feel light, like you’re made of air and you’ll fly away any second without Lindir holding you in place. All the noise and background people fade away, until there’s nothing but this moment. And you can’t help but smile in the kiss when Lindir laughs, the noise swallowed by your mouth.

And in that moment you decide there’s nothing better than kissing someone while they laugh.

You pull a whisper away, moving a hand to trace the outlines of his face. His skin is smooth and perfect, the shining example of the perfection of elves. His blue eyes are like oceans, clear and bright and vividly blue. And if every ocean looked like this, you wouldn’t mind drowning as long as it was in him.

“I told you it would take more than Mordor to get rid of me,” you mumble softly, smiling brightly at him, shining like the sun currently bathing the two of you in it’s radiance.

“Apologies for ever doubting you, meleth-nin,” he responds, returning your smile tenfold.

Another breeze rushes through the courtyard, rustling your dress and Lindir’s hair. You laugh, the sound being swept away in the wind, singing in tune with the birds that have swept into the courtyard. Some spare white blossoms continue dancing through the sky, gently landing on Lindir’s head. He reaches up, delicately grabbing it, careful to not crush the pristine petals. He moves his hand to your hair, tucking the flower into one of your braids near the front of your face. You're practically glowing now, a beaming smile overcoming your face. And with your body practically vibrating from happiness, standing under the sun, you look like an otherworldly being. And if not for your round ears on clear display, some passersby might mistake you for an elf.

You lean forward, pressing a soft and sweet kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of sweet berries on his lips. They were always his favorite, a fresh bowl of them always resting on his desk, only to be devoured within an hour.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, still smiling like an idiot.

“No more than I love you,” he responds, a teasing undertone buried in his words. You pull back, eyes alight with overwhelming happiness. It’s over, everything with Sauron, Mordor, orcs, and that stupid ring is over, it has been for months. But now it feels real, standing here, wrapped up in Lindir as he smiles sweetly at you.

“I respectfully disagree.”

“And I respectfully disagree with your disagreement,” he fires back, grin getting wider and wider with each quip spoken.

“And I respectfully disagree with your respectful disagreement,” you respond, matching his teasing tone, laughter hidden under each word.

“Well I --” he’s cut off by a hand touching your shoulder. Turning around you see Glorfindel standing there, obviously holding back the laughter that’s bubbling inside him, a beaming smile on his youthful face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, my friends, but we do have a celebration to attend to,” he says, nodding towards the crowd of people leaving.

“Of course,” Lindir replies, moving to stand to your left, holding out his arm to you. You slip your arm into his without hesitation. “Let us be off, My Lady.”

“With pleasure, My Lord.”

o0o0o0o0o

Tags:

#lindir imagine #lindir x reader #Lindir oneshot #lindir #LOTR #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings oneshot #lord of the rings Drabble #lotr imagine #lotr oneshot #Imladris imagine #imladris #imladris elves #rivendell elves #rivendell imagine #post lotr #fluffy

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punkinroses · 4 years

Text

Soooo. This part has been a lot of work to try and figure out and while I'm still working on the storyline aspect, I did want to start presenting the characters of the Avatar Lian story/the Zutara grandkid is the Avatar au. Some may play bigger roles than others but it's still important to know the family dynamic of everyone so here we go. And we're gonna start with the first family;

Zutara kids

Fire Lord Iroh: The eldest son of Zuko and Katara, affectionately named after his great uncle. Many assumed with such a powerful namesake and with being the heir to the longstanding dynasty, he would be a Firebender. However, the nation was shocked when he demonstrated Waterbending abilities. This leads to a lot of conflict from other nobles of if he should be the Fire Lord or if that role should be passed onto the next in line. Katara and Zuko were both firm that their son was more than capable of being ruler, no matter his bending ability. He has become a man of resilience, patience and understanding, who wants what is best for his nation, though he has his mothers spirit and will not let others try and treat him as lesser. He also tells the corniest Dad jokes, he got that from both sides of that family. Appearance wise, he actually has shorter, dark brown hair than most fire lords before him but still drops down to his chin. While he wears it in the traditional top knot for political meetings and public outings, if he is just relaxing with his family he likes to keep most of it down with a small part pulled into a ponytail. He has a deep tan that's just slightly lighter than his mothers complexion and deep blue eyes. He favors a lot of his father's facial features, but has Kataras smile. His clothes are primarily reds, but still bears some blue and purple in his clothes.

His wife is Fire Lady Tae, the daughter of a prominent noble family and a Firebender. She's someone who sees the healing the nation needs after spending so much time in a strict and rigid order and falling toeards propaganda, even after her father in laws time as Fire Lord. She and Katara also get rather close. She loves tea and the arts and wants to see her home and family prosper. Iroh knew she was the love of his life when she actually laughed at his super horrible jokes. I imagine that scene actually kinda plays out like the one in Mulan 2, where Ling and TingTing are together and she admits she's embarrassed by her laugh and Ling was like "I just thought you had no sense of humor". Like that scene. She has fair skin and long, wavy black hair with a thick topknot that she keeps a gold decorative comb in, a present from Iroh. Her eyes are a paler gold color. Her outfit is actually one that tends to be more common and subtle, rather than extravagant and the gold comb is the only extravagant jewelry she keeps.

Crown Princess Tomoe is the eldest daughter of their union. She is a nonbender and has chosen to learn how to wield swords, as taught to her by her Grandfather. She is a loving older sister to her younger siblings and is also a big supporter of the arts, like her mother. She has an undercut and keeps her dark brown hair flipped to the side or up in a ponytail to show it. Her eyes are gold and her skin is a lighter olive color. She keeps up with the most up and coming fashion trends and dresses the most stylish out of all of the family, but always keeps to outfits she can move freely in.

The secondborn is more than just a princess. Born on the day that Avatar Aang passed, Avatar Lian is an adventurous Waterbending prodigy. She is extremely close to both of her grandparents and wishes to explore like they did in their youth and has always been considered a free spirit. Her animal guide is a Snow Leopard Caribou named Lumi, who was gifted to her by Sokka. She has long, jet black hair she keeps in a half up ponytail with some locks braided back into the ponytail (I always kinda pictured a more viking hairstyle for her) and blue eyes with gold flecks, and her skin is a bit darker than her sisters. She likes wearing a combination of dark blues, golds and blacks, with certain bits of red that accentuate her outfit. I'm also debating on if she is actually given her grandmother's necklace as a parting gift before she goes and travels.

The only firebender out of his siblings, Prince Roku has always been a wild child. He is a very active young boy who loves practicing his firebending as an extension of himself and playing games. He is also very much a tea snob, like his great great uncle before him. His hair is still shorter, nearing his chin and he's like two steps away from either shaving it or going into the new up and coming hairdye products that have been hitting shelves. He's paler than both of his sisters and is a very light olive skinned boy and he has bright gold eyes. Theres also a scar going through his brow from an accident involving him taking a Dragon Moose for a joyride.

Princess Kya: The youngest daughter of Zuko and Katara, affectionately named after her grandmother. As a child, her fire bending abilities came at a young age and very unexpectedly. Many tried to push her into the role of Firelord, something she very quickly rejected. She has instead found herself a role as a diplomat in Republic City and is helping in efforts to fight poverty in the city and helping improve life not only there, but in the Water Tribes and the Fire Nation. She also has been running an academy with the aid of the White Lotus to teach children fromm all nations and heritages to learn bending, weaponry mastery and philosophy. She has long black hair pinned back with bangs framing her face and she's lighter skinned than her brother, but not by much. Her eyes are a dark gold and she's actually the taller of the two siblings. She has a full tattoo sleeve, with the top part of it being a sun and moon combined and the rest of it being differing things from her two cultures, i.e. a dragon, a wave, water tribe designs and a fire symbol at the wrist.

Kya is someone who never focused on romances and was very dedicated to her own work. She's had a couple of failed relationships but has stopped actively looking for love. She wants to focus on her career.

She does, however, adopt two siblings, Gen and Rohan, who had been orphaned after their parents were killed by one of the gangs that had been forming in Republic City.

Gen is the elder of the two and he is an Earthbender. He's very confident in his abilities and is a bit of a jock. His ego is jokingly and lovingly kept in check by his adoptive mother, but she always encourages him to keep doing his best. He's a bit thickheaded but he is very loyal and he absolutely loves messing with his cousins. Hes got short brown hair that's spiked up a bit, tan skin and emerald green eyes.

Rohan loves messing with his cousins as much as his brother does, but he's a bit more of the subdued sibling. He loves reading and philosophy and finds something poetic in his earthbending, wanting to use it to help build and create. He also has a strong sense of justice and wantd to use his gifts and what he's been taught to be put to good use in Republic City and help find who killed his parents. His brown hair is a bit longer than his brothers, his eyes more a green-gray color.

Edit: sharing the link to the other kids list down here!

Sukka Kids; Taang Kids

#zutara #zutara au #zutara kids #atla #avatar #avatar lian #avatar the last airbender #atla au #atla oc #im being vague about the outfits bc aha i have no idea what theyre all wearing #like #part of me also wants some traditionalism in certain standards #but also #also i have no idea if the styles are gonna matxh the 20s #or the 40s and 50s #send help pls

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dalleyan · 3 years

Text

Shattered (1st chapter of new LoTR story posted, 1-20-21)

Eomer thought that his life would be less complicated after the War, but loving a woman he could never have made that unlikely. Then unexpected circumstances altered everything. Complete in 5 chapters.

Chapter 1

(Cormallen, late April, 3019 III)

Hearty laughter rent the night. “Oh, Eomer, I can scarce wait to have you meet the rest of my family. I am sure they will love you as I do. Already you are like a son to me,” Imrahil warmly told the king of Rohan.

“I am honored!” Eomer responded, humbled by the man’s approbation.

“You know, my friend, now you are king, you will need to think about beginning a family of your own. I doubt a queen and a few heirs would go amiss in Rohan’s eyes!” Imrahil urged.

Eomer chuckled. His friends had already been goading him in the direction of matrimony. It seemed marriage and children were on everyone’s mind in the wake of their victory, and he could not truly deny that the thought had occurred to him how pleasing a family would be. He would gladly see the hall of Meduseld filled with laughing children, driving back the long shadows of the past.

With a glint in his eyes, he teased, “How may I even consider marriage when you have told me that your only daughter is already betrothed? Shall I seek solace in some lesser maiden?”

Imrahil laughed appreciatively. “Had I known I would meet you, I might have required Lothiriel to wait instead of approving her betrothal.” He sighed, and shook his head before shrugging. “We live in a new world, one that none of us thought would ever exist. There are many worthy ladies who will eagerly seek your suit, Eomer. Choose wisely. The right woman beside a man, especially a ruler, makes all the difference. Do not let your advisers press you to marry someone in whose company you cannot be perfectly at ease. Many noble marriages in Gondor are made for alliance rather than love. I know it is so, but I was fortunate enough to achieve both, and I believe I would not have done half so well with anyone else united to me. She has given me four beautiful children and a lifetime of joy.”

Eomer nodded silently at the counsel, taking another swallow of ale. Wise counsel, indeed, he was sure, but privately he knew that a wife would likely have to wait a while. First the Mark needed his full attention in being rebuilt.

Over the next few days, Eomer gave little further thought to his conversation with Imrahil their last night at Cormallen. The company traveled to Osgiliath and then on to Minas Tirith, where Aragorn was crowned king on May first. Consequently, he had not given much thought to Imrahil’s daughter, Lothiriel, or that they would soon meet. Had he done so, he supposed he would have expected her to be tall and dark like the other members of her family.

The reality, when they came face to face, was far more than that. All of the men in the Prince’s family would be considered handsome, and Eomer had noted appreciative looks cast at them from the ladies. Not only did the family have Numenorean blood, but it was also rumored that they had Elvish ancestry. In Lothiriel of Dol Amroth there was every reason to believe the rumors. Eomer had come to admire the dark looks of Gondorian women, but he thought Imrahil’s youngest child might well be the handsomest woman he had ever seen. He noted that he was not the only man, upon first meeting her, who took a moment to recover his composure in the presence of such beauty.

More than her looks, though, he found her a pleasant and charming woman, as he would have expected. While yet young, at only twenty years, she carried herself with grace and dignity that reflected well upon her father and his house. Eomer was not at all surprised to note her parents beaming proudly as they watched their daughter move about in noble society.

During the sennight Eomer tarried at Minas Tirith before returning home, he came to realize that he could very much regret that he had not met the lady sooner, before she was betrothed. There had been little time in his life for the pursuit of ladies and romance; now that he had time, even needed to make time, the one that most caught his eye was unavailable to him.

Despite that, Eomer formed as warm a friendship with the lady as he had with the others in her family. With the defeat of Sauron, Imrahil’s wife and daughter, heir and his family, and Lothiriel’s betrothed had all journeyed to Minas Tirith for the celebrations and the coronation of their new king.

Imrahil’s wife, Sirrin, was a gracious woman, tall and regal, with little gray dusting her hair despite her many years. Apparently, in her eyes, friends of her husband’s were friends of hers, and she welcomed Eomer cordially into their home. With the affection that had developed between Eomer’s sister and Imrahil’s nephew adding an extra tie uniting their families, the king found himself a frequent guest there.

Elphir and his family were equally appealing, and the toddler heir was an active boy that kept amused smiles on many faces as they surveyed his antics.

The last member of the party, Lord Gaerost of Edhellond, was a bit of a mystery, not so easily assessed as the others. Well-spoken and tactful, Eomer watched him socialize with practiced ease. Amrothos had told him that the man held shipping interests along the coast at the various ports, and was quite wealthy. His fleet of ships had been employed in protecting the coastline, and thus he had remained in the south during the war. He and Elphir had long been acquainted, and it was through that connection that he had met and offered suit to Lothiriel.

Perhaps it was just Eomer’s predisposition to dislike the man, but he found something pompous and pretentious about him. Indeed he was a handsome man, but bordered on being ‘pretty’, and seemed to pay an inordinate amount of attention to his appearance. Eomer had never seen any male preen so much as this man, but at the same time, in comparison, the king felt almost unkempt and rough-hewn. It was unlikely Eomer’s manners would ever be that refined or particular.

Though Eomer met Imrahil’s family during the course of the day when they first arrived, he spent the majority of his time with Eowyn and had little interaction with them. Not until the feast that night, did he have an opportunity to speak with them more and get a better sense of them than what casual observation allowed.

The first thing to catch his eye was that Lothiriel was now moving with the aid of a cane. As she had been perfectly healthy when they met earlier, he could only presume something had happened in the interim. His eyes narrowed with consternation at how little attention her betrothed seemed to be displaying toward her, particularly given her ailment, but as Lothiriel did not appear bothered by it, he supposed it was none of his business.

continue reading on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886217/chapters/70864245

#Eomer #Lothiriel #eothiriel #Lord of the Rings #LOTR #first meetings #how they met #Imrahil #Eowyn

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lauwrite1225 · 4 years

Text

Broken Crown || Finan x OC || Chapter 01

Summary : Since the day he has been enslaved, Finan never thought that he would have to face his origins. But when an old friend made his arrival to Wessex, the Irishman his forced to deal with his past.

(Flashbacks are in italic.)

English isn’t my first language, if you see any mistakes, tell me :)

Warning : None.

01 || DANES

Arms crossed against her leather breastplate, Ailis' eyes roamed the battlefield. Guards were burying the lifeless bodies, but there were so many that birds were already flying near. She let out a sigh. So many deaths. Again.

For few months, Danes were attacking villages in Ulaid. But today, they tried to take Navan Fort, the capital of the Kingdom. They failed, but Ailis knew there will be a next time. Two years ago, the King had ordered the attack of a Dane’s settlement. Now, they wanted revenge.

She looked away when she heard footsteps approaching. Conall and two guards were walking to her. The King of Ulaid stopped next to her, observing the damages of the battle. He stayed silent as Ailis stared at him. His dark hair was dirty as his face. She could see few tears streaming down his cheeks. He slowly took the crown on his head and with a scream of rage, that surely could be heard miles from here, he threw it away. She watched it fall on the grass, next to a Dane's body. She waited a moment for Conall to calm down.

“We need help.” She simply said.

“Damn them.” Mumbled Conall.

“They'll come back and we need allies to face them.”

“I know.” On this word, he left her side. She sighed, once again.

The wind made her shivered. It was almost dawn and the atmosphere started to be colder. She tightened up the cloak on her shoulders and followed Conall.

They walked down the ramparts and entered in the throne room, full of people speaking. All voices shut as Conall crossed the crowd, Ailis just behind him. Dealla, the Queen, was already standing near the throne. Ailis could feel her viper eyes on her. She ignored it. Conall sat on his throne and she stood next to him.

He slowly brushed his beard as whispers filled the room. Ailis bit her lips. She could easily imagine what they were saying. Conall's crown was endangered since he was made King. She couldn't even count how many treasons were planned by the Lords of Ulaid. Hopefully, none of them ever see the day.

Conall suddenly stood up, making the room silent once again. “This has to end.” He made few steps towards the Lords. “We won't let the Danes ransack our lands any longer.��

“But Lord King, we don’t have enough men.” Said a young Lord. He seemed to quickly regret his intervention when Conall looked to him with his deep brown eyes full of anger.

“I know.” He said in a soft tone. “That's why we will need an ally. A strong ally.” Ailis smiled a little. Finally, Conall will ask for the help of the other kingdoms of Ireland. “An ally that has already defeated the Danes. And which Kingdom has done it better than Wessex?”

Voices rose up. Ailis' mouth opened in shock. How could he expect Wessex to help them? The Kingdom was at the other side of the sea. They had not made any contact with Wessex since decades. This was complete madness. But Conall seemed determined. He raised his hand in the air to have the Lords’ attention once again.

“Enough !” He shouted. “We will make of Wessex our ally. For years, they fight against the Danes. This will be their occasion to put an end to it.” He walked back to his throne. “I will send my most trusted friend to Wessex.” He turned to look at Ailis. Of course, it would be her. They knew each other since they were kids. She had always been faithful to him, whatever his choices. Even after that day. No matter how much she hated him for what he had done, she would follow him.

A wide smile was on Conall’s face, but she couldn’t give it back to him. He ordered for the Lords to leave the throne room. Ailis looked to the Queen. The two women had never been friends. Dealla was desperately jealous of her. Of the interest the King had in her. She always thought the beautiful red hair was his whore. But Ailis couldn’t be mad at her. After all, Conall was a King and he could have any woman. Anyone would be prone to jealousy.

“My love, how can you be so sure that King Edward will accept?” Asked Dealla taking his hand into hers.

“I’m sure of nothing. But he has to accept.” He softly smiled at her, caressing her cheek with his fingers.

“And how?” Challenged Ailis on such a harsh tone that it could break a stone. “We have no real army anymore and Wessex have no interest in Ireland. It is madness to request them to be our allies. God, why can’t you ask the help of the other Kingdom of Ireland.” Conall frowned. He walked to her until there was just a small gap between them.

“Exactly because Wessex has no interest in our lands. I am no fool Ailis. If I ask the aid of the other Irish King, they will know of our weakness and take advantage.” He grabbed her shoulders and smirked once more. “Convince him Ailis.” She bit her lip, wondering how she would make Edward accept the proposal. Feeling her uncertainty, Conall’s smiled disappeared. He leaned down to her ear and whispered. “Let the King hump you if needed.” She frowned as he kissed her cheek and walked away with Dealla.

She remained in the throne room for a moment, thinking of Conall’s words. Their childhood was far from them and the boy she used to know either. Conall had always been ambitious. When they were kid, he dreamt of travels and adventures. But his duty as King has taken everything. He was never meant to be the ruler, being only a second child. Yet, he was. And now, he was an embittered man, gnawed by a role that exceeded him.

She shook her head and left the throne room. She had a long journey to prepare.

…

Two days after the attack, Ailis was ready to leave. Three horses were waiting in front of Navan Fort’s gates, two for the soldiers that will accompany her and one for her. She was adjusting the bag on the saddle when she heard her name being called out. She turned back to discover a young monk with a bag on his shoulder. She sighed when she recognized the chestnut hair boy.

Rohan was the first-born son of Queen Dealla. When she married Conall, he sent him away to a monastery, as well his younger brother, Bran. They were toddlers when they left the castle. However, Conall never prevented Dealla to visit her sons. All he wanted was them far from Navan Fort.

“Rohan, you shouldn’t be here.” She said as she rolled her eyes. It was not the first time Rohan was fleeing the monastery. In fact, Ailis was used to meet him in the walls of the city. He was pretty good at hiding from the guard and so, he had never been caught.

“Let me come with you.” He declared as he stopped in front of her. He was taller than her, almost a man. But in his mind, he was still a boy.

“I can’t.” She turned her back on him and returned to her previous occupation.

“Why?” He protested, stepping to the other side of the horse so she could see him.

“I can’t bring a bastard in a royal court.” She answered, pointing her finger to him. His expression turned into an upset one.

“I’m not a bastard Ailis. You know that.” He growled. No, technically he wasn’t a bastard. He was the fruit of a legitimate marriage with Conall’s brother. But since his father was gone and Conall was married to his mother, he and his brother counted no more than bastards. At least, that was what the King hoped. Rohan and Bran were legitimate children and therefor, legitimate heirs. “I don’t want to be a monk for all my life. I want to be a warrior.”

“Listen, Rohan.” She plunged her blue eyes into his, green as an emerald. “Conall sent you in the monastery because he fears for his crown. If I allow you to learn to fight, he’ll think that you’ll kill him one day or another.”

“But I won’t!” He exclaimed.

“Then, you go back to your monastery.” She put a foot into the stirrup and she settled on her mount. She looked down to the disappointed boy and gently took his chin between her fingers. “Your brother needs you.” He turned his head and started to walk away. She pinched her lips as she watched him leave. She couldn’t help but think of his father. They didn’t look a lot like each other, but they had the same temperament.

She made a sign to the two guards that were also ready to leave. She pressed the sides of her horse with her hills and it started walking before trotting. The group left Navan Fort, following the road to the port of Ulfreksfjord.

…

Ailis was hiding behind the giant door of the throne room. Tables were setting in the hall and a great number of Lords from all Ulaid were sitting. Ale flowed, making them speak loudly. From where she was, the young girl could see her father, right next to the King. They were laughing with Prince Irial, the King’s son. She smiled at the joy emanating from the banquet.

“What are you doing here?” She quickly turned around to face Finan. The King’s nephew was four years older than her, but yet he wasn’t allowed to participate to the festivities.

“Nothing. I’m just, watching.” He raised an eyebrow, but did not say a word. Joining her against the door, he stared into the throne room. He was a head taller than Ailis and so, he could perfectly see what was going on. He rested his eyes on the King’s place. At his other side, there was Finan’s father. The two were very similar with jet hair and deep brown eyes. Even their features were much alike.

“Maybe one day you will be the one in the middle.” Declared Ailis. The young Prince frowned and looked down to her. “They say that Prince Irial isn’t going to be King.”

“Who told you that?”

“I heard it by my father.” She stared at him. He seemed not really convinced by her answer. “The Prince is a drunk.” She added. Finan looked back to the banquet, raising his shoulders.

“I don’t want to be King.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a life full of constraint. I’d rather be a warrior.”

A/N : You can’t imagine how nervous I am to post the first chapter aha. This chapters and the next one are quite small but it’ll be longer then ;).

Most of the firsts chapters will be devided in between the present (set after season 4) and the past (before season 2).

I hope you liked this first chapter and don’t hesitate to give your opinion, it always interest me ! :D

Tagged : @astral-finan @geekandbooknerd @pokeasleepingsmaug @queen-manning @kelly-fasel @naihqh @ucancallmechlo <3

#finan #finanxoc #finan the agile #the last kingdom #fanfiction #broken crown

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

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a new beginning - 01

Pairing: LOTR! James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader

Warnings: so far go right ahead, no danger.

A/N: i should just stop watching things that give me fanfic ideas.

Main Masterlist

Fear and disillusion always creep in the Middle Earth and peace never last forever. The age of peace within kids would end up with the uproar against the united kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. Whoever, war pays a difficult price and those to pay it had been the King, the Queen and their descendants who died protecting the very thing they fought years ago to bring back. The Middle Earths were now a remnant of what it was when the ring was destroyed. The only surviving realms where some relative calmness existed were those of the Hobbits in the Shire, the Humans in Rohan, the Dwarfs and some remaining elfs. All behind that was said to be lost lands and places where no man could ever survive without losing his sanity.

- However ... - the young princess said making all the children gasp in suspense which caused her to smirk as her eyes went back to the red leathered book in her hands. - It is said that Aragorn’s line survived the war and his heir will lead the age of darkness away and install new peace into the Middle Earth.

- Princess Y/N, do you believe it to be so? - one of the lord’s daughters said, her voice insecure and looking around. Y/N smiled sweetly at the child, closing the book. - Do you believe peace will return?

- It’s all about hope, milady. - she replied which clearly light up a a conversation between every child in the room who seemed to be excited over the return of an heir.

- You’re an excellent story teller, my daughter. - Faramir walked into the library along with his wife and the princess’ mother, Éowyn.

During the beginning of her childhood, Y/N had been called Lady Y/N of Rohan, never the princess she was now called. That had come to be after her uncle and king Éomer passed on while fighting for the freedom of some of Gondor’s people after the rebels and orcs took over. After that, her mother and father had been proclaimed Queen and King of

They were smiling at her and the children, who quickly thanked the princess and ran out to plan on the gardens as the weather had been rather sympathetic since no rain was falling down on Rohan. - I’m starting to think you believe these tales.

- You know my beliefs, father. - Y/N replied to him, walking over to the white shelf that had been a gift from Legolas so she could put all her books full of tales. She was one to stop travellers when they stayed in the castle and ask them about their adventures, their life stories or even tales they’d heard from their families and friends. The young princess was also the owner of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins book who had been offered to her by Sam when she had turned eighteen. It was safe to say she had the best collection of books in all of Middle Earth, even some elven books. - You once believed it could be better.

- You concern yourself to much with things you shouldn’t concern yourself with. - Éowyn cupped her daughter’s face, pushing the locks that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear. - You have other things to concern yourself with.

- Like coming to see your favourite dwarf instead of leaving him to see your father’s face. - Gimli pushed Faramir aside to look at the girl he hadn’t seen in a year. Both him, Legolas and the Hobbits from the Shire had became rather close to each other and would usually come over to see her parents which lead to them getting closer to the princess. - And to think I rode all the way here to celebrate your birthday.

- I apologise. - she smiled, lowering down to his height to give him a hug.

- You should apologise to me, I had to ride with him. - Legolas made himself known, smiling at the young princess. - You sure grow into your mother’s beauty every day.

- She sure does. - Faramir commented. - Starting to become rather hard to make sure no man tries and steal her away.

- Father. - she rolled her eyes.

- So, Faramir, where’s that nice room I was promised? - the dwarf turned to the King who laughed whole heartily and along with his wife started to walk into the main bedrooms which were below the library and other activity rooms. Y/N and Legolas remained in the room and silenced was settled as she stared at him.

- I know what you want, princess. - he said, crossing his arms. - Do you wish my death by the hands of your mother so deeply?

- You promised. - she said, mimicking his position with her arms crossed too and an eyebrow cocked. - You said “once you turn twenty I’ll teach you”. Well, I’m turning twenty tomorrow so you have to. You promised and elves don’t break promises, you said it yourself.

- Why should you learn archery? You’re a skilled sword fighter, you don’t require archery.

- Consider that my enemy is rather far. I could protect myself better if I could shoot an arrow onto him. Or do you expect me to send my sword flying?

- Who taught you to argument like that? - he chuckled.

- You did. - the young princess pointed at him. - C’mon, it’s better if you do it now then tomorrow where everyone’s gonna be looking for me?

- Fine. Lead the way, milady. - he said as she ran out of the library and down the stairs of the palace onto the hill filled garden where she would go whenever she felt trapped. It was also one of the only places she could escape her mother and father’s eagle eyes and where she had learned to sword fight by the hand of Legolas and watching some of the army men practice. It was also a place where she could look outside the border that had been built around Rohan after the King of Gondor fell. She liked to call it her little peak into the world. - Must you always be running?

- I thought elves were immortal, Legolas. You mean to tell me age is finally catching up to you? - she teased as she reached the top of the hill. - You’re growing old.

- I don’t grow old, Princess Y/N. - the elf replied back, taking his arrow from his back and handing it to her. - Don’t you dare break it.

- I’ve never broken anything. - she replied, analysing the mythical, at least to her, weapon in her hand. She raised it up, admiring it. - It’s gorgeous.

- Yes, it is. Now .... - he pushed her feet apart with his, making her stay shoulder width apart. - Maintain this position always, it’s better for aiming.

She nodded before stopping once she noticed in the horizon something that didn’t use to be there. The outside was a barren land with dead grass and mostly no one and those who came to visit normally held up the banner of Rohan in their hands or horses in order to call attention to have the gates open. Although, someone or something seemed to be laying down on the grass.

The young princess dropped the arrow to the ground and started rushing down the hill to the gates who were opened for her by the guards recognising their princess. Without even looking back she crossed the border of Rohan onto the outside. It didn’t take her long until she found what was different in the horizon,

It was a men covered in blood soaked clothes whose face was unseen by the princess as his face was upon the grass. Legolas had followed right behind her, only thinking about what Faramir and Éowyn would do to if their precious daughter was to suffer any harm. He also wouldn’t wish any harm upon a woman who he saw as family.

- Go call for help. Run and don’t look back. - he told her.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan AU #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #marvel x reader #marvel AU #lord of the rings AU #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings

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anghraine · 5 years

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I’ve been poking at this section of the Aragorn/f!Faramir(/Éowyn) AU for ... like, four years, and finally reached a pausing point of sorts. So here’s around 3k of Fíriel, for those of you who have, um, stuck around all this time.

Context:

There is never any expectation of f!Faramir being a warrior, which leads to a much better relationship with Denethor, but also to Denethor being the only one apart from Imrahil [needed for the sortie] who is equipped to lead soldiers against the dread spread by the Nazgûl.

He does so, falling in battle, while Fíriel uses her abilities to stave off the Black Breath as much as possible in the Houses of Healing.

She meets Aragorn there and is impressed, but has no mystical healing experience to take her from Faramir’s “maybe” to “the king has returned.”

She and Éowyn met more or less per canon and are now good friends.

In her heart, perhaps, Fíriel knew what must happen. Her people gladly welcomed the Lord Aragorn for his victories, his lineage, his service, but nevertheless he came out of the shattered waste of Arnor and not Gondor. When the euphoria faded, in a year or five or ten—what then?

The Stewards, for their part, could claim no more royalty than any other great Númenórean house; at this point they all carried a few scarce drops of Anárion’s blood in their veins. By birth, her family held only north Ithilien. Yet they had been sovereigns over Gondor for centuries, liked for the most part, resolute keepers of the kingdom when kings failed. Even now men admired and mourned Denethor, their last valiant Steward. If he had lived—

He had not lived, and that was Fíriel’s doing. At the end of her strength, she had sustained the Lady Éowyn, slayer of the Witch-king, and abandoned her father to his cold death. By her own failure, she was the last of the house of the Stewards. The loremasters had long counted them as heirs of Anárion in name as well as authority, and so: last heir of Anárion as well. Even her namesake, a truer heir by far and equally bereft of father and brother, never suffered that blow.

Aragorn had already been joyously compared to her brother Boromir, the mighty king Rómendacil, inevitably Elendil. Yet now, she thought before them all of Arvedui, his own ancestor. Arvedui whose failure Aragorn redeemed, Arvedui who lost the palantíri where Aragorn recovered one, who lost Arthedain where Aragorn would undoubtedly restore it. Arvedui who married the daughter of Gondor’s lord, his only surviving child.

Fíriel.

Yes, she should have known. Had her mother known? Had Mithrandir, assuring her on the eve of the Pelennor that the blood of Númenor did not flow in her for nothing? Had Aragorn?

She remembered with perfect clarity how weakened she’d been in the Houses of Healing, so exhausted and unsteady that she might have fallen if not for Imrahil hastening to her side. In her splintered vision Aragorn shone like a star. Like Eärendil. And frail as she must have seemed in that moment, he said: You are a woman of staunch will, lady, to have contained the poison of the Nazgûl so far. Men live who else would have died, whose lives I swear shall now be preserved. For I too am a healer, and I say to you: it may be that you were born for this hour, Fíriel daughter of Denethor.

She did not see him again until after the triumph at the Morannon. As she walked with Éowyn in her mother’s garden, she caught a flicker of thought; Aragorn stood at one end of the garden in the gear of a Dúnadan of the North, looking very much like any other Dúnadan of the North. A good enough disguise in Minas Tirith, she supposed.

He hesitated, uncertain for a victorious captain of war. And Éowyn, noticing him a moment later, flushed. Fíriel might have rejoiced at her sudden animation, but she did not. In any case, Éowyn looked at him with less of a woman’s love and more of a young soldier’s admiration. For his part Aragorn responded to Éowyn’s greeting with awkward cordiality, discomfort behind the eyes.

“You know the Lady Fíriel, I think?” said Éowyn.

“Yes, we met in the Houses of Healing,” he replied. “If you remember, lady?”

“I do,” said Fíriel, with a flicker of trepidation.

They looked at one another, minds full of stars and crowns and scepters. The crown of Gondor; the rod of the Stewards. She’d all but made her decision, none other possible in the circumstances; but still she had her duty.

He quickly said that he did not mean to interrupt, and left with more grace than he had entered.

“I imagined he would make a more majestic entrance into the city,” said Éowyn.

Fíriel smiled. Sometimes Éowyn seemed too old and tired for her age; and sometimes, very young.

“Elessar has not entered the gates,” she replied. “That was only the Lord Aragorn, a leader of our kin from afar.”

Éowyn looked sharply at her. “Is he not the king?”

“Not yet,” said Fíriel. The weight in her gut grew still heavier. He had not slipped into the city for nothing. But she dared not dwell on it.

Later, after Éowyn reluctantly retired to rest, Fíriel found Aragorn waiting for her—as she more than half-expected.

“I do not wish for strife in Gondor,” he said abruptly. “The Enemy has perished, but other foes live. After so many years, even the most peaceful have little love for us.”

She considered him. Despite her height, she had to look up; he stood over two rangar. Some part of her would have preferred to hold this conversation in the hall of the kings, on her father’s chair, holding the white rod. Denethor had granted her all the authority of the Steward before his death, and in these uncertain days, nobody had felt the need to wrest domestic concerns out of her hands. She suspected that nobody had realized those concerns included the judgment of royal claims. The Council might ignore that; the people would not.

Aragorn would not.

“They have little love for—us?” she said. “The peoples of the west?”

“Gondor,” said Aragorn, voice firm.

“You count yourself a man of Gondor?”

His grey eyes were steady. “I am a man of many places, lady. I was born in Eriador and reared in Imladris. I have explored Middle-earth, west and north, south and east. I fought in Rohan for a time, and Gondor a longer time. My home, as near as I could call it, has been the North. But the North-kingdom fell long ago. Fornost, Annúminas, the great cities of my forefathers lie in ruins. My people shrink with every generation. We look south as well as west, not only to the memory of Númenor downfallen, but to the heart of living Númenor.”

Fíriel caught her breath. For all her intended impartiality, the words—studied yet earnest—sparked in her mind, long-cherished images flaring up. Minas Tirith restored, full of life and beauty, a peaceful queen once more. The flag of Elendil snapping in the breeze, the White Tree in flower. The silver crown …

Where would she be, in that splendid future? What would become of her people, not only as admiring crowds, but as they lived from day to day? What of Gondor?

Forcing herself to caution, she said, “You intend to reunite the Dúnedain?”

“Yes.” He smiled a little. “They already mingle in Cormallen.”

“After a battle, a great victory,” said Fíriel. “That is one thing. It is another to dwell together in harmony, under the same government, the same king. For that is what you intend, is it not?”

Aragorn paused. Then his smile widened to something more open and frank. “Yes. I have from my youth.”

“How long?”

“Many decades.” Correctly interpreting her expression, he said, “Over sixty years.”

She should have guessed that. He had grey at his temples, faint signs of age over his face, even as he shone bright in her mind. Her father had been sixty before he showed such signs, and prematurely aged—Aragorn would be seventy, eighty, perhaps more. She did not care how much more.

“Why did you wait?” She knew, of course.

“The Kinstrife destroyed enough at Gondor’s height. What might another do to us now?”

He had good sense, or good ethics—hopefully both. Few, even of his blood, would have the resolve to watch and wait for decades on end, living as nothing more than a charismatic captain at best. There was wisdom as well as patience in that, a sense of proper significance. He had his ambitions, but he had not been willing to sacrifice Gondor’s interests to them, nor the good of all peoples who fought against Mordor.

“Naturally it would have been ruinous,” said Fíriel. She inhaled. “Let me say, my lord, that the white rod is a sacred charge. I will not break it lightly.”

“Who is to say that you must break it?”

She started. Then she looked away, unsure of her reason for doing so: unwilling to see, or to be seen?

Did he mean to retain the Stewardship, if—when—if he became king? As it had become by Mardil’s time? Settled on a great lord like Imrahil, or even delaying for a son of Fíriel’s own? Or was he thinking of what it had been for the ancient kings, something to pass from one elderly advisor to another? Húrin or Forlong?

No, Forlong was dead.

It did not signify for now. Whatever Aragorn intended for the Stewardship, she remained the last of the Húrinionath, her father’s viceroy-heir, and this final duty lay with her.

“Tell me of your travels,” she said at last.

Aragorn paused, then complied. For the next hour, he talked of wide lands throughout Eriador, Rhûn, Harad, painting pictures with a few well-chosen words. He knew the world better than any man of Gondor, as a king should. But she, who knew well how to hide truth behind more truth, listened too for what he did not say.

He talked of his exploits as Thorongil and his acquaintance with her mother, but not of Denethor, whom he must have known much better. He talked of the sights and ways of the strange far lands he’d seen, but not of what he had done there. He talked of the beauty of Rivendell, the precious lore, the evenings full of Elven-song, the wisdom of Master Elrond, but not of how it survived the onslaughts of orcs.

Fíriel listened and said little.

Afterwards, Aragorn—seeming to know by instinct that he had said all that might be of use—slipped away as invisibly as he had snuck in, headed back to the celebrations at Cormallen. Fíriel watched him go, then sat on a bench near a young olive-tree.

For another hour she remained very still, the light breeze on her face as crisp and clean as the wind off the sea at Dol Amroth. She weighed one thing against another, precedent against victory, honour against expediency, her slain father against her living uncle. If Boromir had lived, she began to think wistfully: but no. If not slain by orcs in the defence of the small and helpless, he would have fought on the Pelennor. Perhaps Denethor would never have ridden to battle, then, and this terrible burden would not lie on her shoulders. Denethor would have no doubts.

Fíriel was a student of lore above all else. As always, she sought refuge in the Stewards’ archives, searching for the answer she sought, or at least the question. There, the Council’s decision from a millennium ago, dutifully copied and re-copied through the long years. It had been written in Quenya, thank heavens; Edhellen changed with the passing years, but the high-Elven never did.

She read the brief words over and over. Pelendur had not been a verbose man. Although he honoured the Princess Fíriel for her lineage and character—Arvedui was not yet king—she could not, as a woman, inherit the crown. Still less could her husband inherit the crown through her. As for his claim as heir of Isildur, Isildur had relinquished Gondor, and consequently all claim to it for himself and his heirs, to the line of Anárion. A second letter from Arvedui, its copies neatly placed with the first, contested the argument. Women had inherited the crown of Númenor, even if the law had not been observed in Middle-earth, and moreover Isildur never intended the permanent separation of the kingdoms.

Isildur, as far as she could tell, had not documented what he meant at all. Nor had any of her scattered visions brought it to her. They could debate only accounts of accounts of what Isildur might have said.

Relinquished.

There lay the crux of it all, she thought. By all record his three eldest sons had been present at the time; he could just as easily have made one of them king in Gondor, bound the kingdoms more closely. Instead he chose his nephew Meneldil. That suggested to her mind that he never intended Gondor for his heirs. Still, it was well established that he left to take up the high kingship, and not merely a separate kingship in Arnor. It might very well be that he intended his heirs to be high kings over Arnor and Gondor, Anárion’s as kings of Gondor under them. It could be.

Relinquished, relinquished, relinquished.

Fíriel rubbed her eyes. Both arguments had merit under pure law. At the time, however, Arvedui weakened his own position. He primarily rested his claim on Princess Fíriel, by appeal to the law of Númenor; but Tar-Aldarion’s law granted the sceptre to royal heiresses, not their husbands. Indeed the history of Númenor reflected quite poorly on men who claimed it in the name of their wives, and even his own kingdom did not accept ruling queens. No, she could not question Pelendur’s decision there, as far as the law went. The claim from Isildur was the stronger by far.

Aragorn, as far as she knew, presented himself only as heir of Isildur, though of course he must be likewise descended from Princess Fíriel. In the male line too, not through the daughters the princess brought back to Gondor. But that descent remained the weaker claim; he made none of Arvedui’s mistakes. And he was the triumphant captain who had led Gondor to victory as well as a claimant of royal blood: Eärnil as well as Arvedui.

Fíriel pushed the parchment away. Did she seek knowledge, truly? Or justification for expediency?

Oh, what did it matter? She’d known all along the choice that must be made, for Gondor’s sake. As Aragorn had said, not all their enemies had died on the Pelennor and before the Morannon. Even now they could afford no internal squabbles; and in this hour they needed a great captain as her brother had been, whatever they chose to call him. Precedent was against it. But the law itself could go either way. She, last of Pelendur’s line, was in a better position than any to overturn his decision. Or at least to strongly recommend doing so, backed by her people’s love for Aragorn, and for her.

A formless idea tugged at her mind; she dismissed it, preoccupied by the needs of the present. Then she returned to her family’s private apartments high in the tower, where she had locked away the white rod, after Denethor first bestowed it upon her in full sight of the Council. They might need the reminder.

Fíriel hesitated, but only for a moment. She unlocked the door to her father’s rooms, rod in hand. In earlier days she would never have dared to breach his sanctuary unless summoned. But he rested in Rath Dínen now, and would never return.

The room looked very much as she remembered it, starkly spare, but airy and full of light. Denethor, always tidy, otherwise left little of himself; but then, he had not expected to return. Fíriel took a deep breath, then crossed the room to the small door at the end of it. She had never penetrated further into the tower than this.

She turned the only key she did not recognize into the lock. Quietly opening the door and closing it behind her, she climbed the winding stairs upwards, skirts trailing after her. There was very little dust; her father, as all the City well knew, came this way often.

Here she found neatly stacked books, neatly rolled scrolls, in more languages than she could name, though most seemed to be high-Elven and Edhellen. Dead torches still remained on the walls, candles stacked on the shelves—unnecessary for now, with another long window letting in a warm flood of sunlight. None of these, however, drew her attention so much as something large and round set on a tall pedestal before the window, draped in cloth.

She did not need the gifts of Númenor to feel a thrill of alarm at the sight. Yet she stepped near to it, as if inexorably drawn, and then nearer still.

The people of Minas Tirith, Fíriel not excepted, had long known that the Steward wrestled with the Enemy from here. An impossible task, on the face of it. Yet, while the struggle aged and wearied him, it did not defeat him; Denethor had lived and died as his own man. Fíriel prayed she would be able to say the same, whatever she chose. Men said that Fíriel favoured him; she hoped so. She hoped that she had inherited his unconquerable spirit along with his height and features.

He would say that she must choose quickly. And she must stand by her choice. Yes, she would be as strong as her father.

Fíriel pulled the cloth away, and gasped, though she had half-expected what she found.

It was, unmistakably, a Seeing-stone of Númenor. The Anor-stone had not been lost! Her family must have passed it down, father to son, and occasionally to daughter. Her father must have—this was how he had wrestled with the Enemy, wrenching the stone to his control. And he must have succeeded, at least in part; he would not have done it without gain. This was how he had seen so much and so far, coupled with his powers of mind.

And now it was hers.

For awhile, anyway—a short while. Fíriel stared down at the globe, thinking of all the days of the past, of the light so often flickering at this window. Of her father’s life and death, and Aragorn, and oddly, of Éowyn.

She reached for the palantír.

#anghraine's fic #fíriel of minas tirith #fic talk #/#//#///#////#/////#aragorn #faramir #éowyn #denethor #(in absentia)#legendarium blogging #otp: and the sun shone #otp: love was kindled #implicitly in both cases but /shrug #rule 63 #definitely a pausing and not stopping point but also /shrug

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aelsell · 5 years

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Verse Update: Das Lächeln der Fortuna - Prinzessin von Thal

This verse is loosely based on the book „Das Lächeln der Fortuna“ by Rebecca Gable, and was created in collaboration with @meinliied and @aelernil / it is also in line with @childrenxofxdale's canon. It is an alternate storyline for Tilda's canon verse. (because we need this ship in every verse and it always has to be terribly sad. Why am I like this?) It follows the canon storyline up until ;;princess of ruins. Meaning when this verse starts Tilda is a young princess, unhappy with her position in life and struggling with the responsibility put upon her shoulders. It is during that time that she meets Heinrich von Reuß, a wealthy count who swears fealty to young king Bain of Dale. But Heinrich is not just wealthy, he is also handsome and kind, with a warm smile and gentle hands. It does not take long for young Tilda to fall head over heels for the dashing knight. She has dreamed of fairytales for so long, it seems as if she stepped right into one herself. Is it love?

Tilda knows that feeling only second-hand, out of stories her Da told of her Mother, in the gazes she sees exchanged between Bain and Ida. And she longs for it! She longs for the safety a husband can give her, she longs to fulfill the dynastic hopes put upon her shoulders, to be the princess everyone expects her to be. She truly wants to believe that this is love. Real and true love. She tells herself, over and over again that he will make her happy, that he will treat her well.

And when Heinrich asks for Tilda's hand in marriage the young princess presses her brother into saying yes. A lush celebration is held in the palace of Dale to announce the young couple's engagement. Even her older sister Sigrid returns from Rohan, in her company is a young knight no one expected to return so soon.

Wilhelm von Reuß.

Heinrich’s younger brother left the family, the name, the title. And Tilda does not know why. She is delighted though, that he returned. For surely it is possible to sooth the dispute between the brothers. She wants her husband to be happy after all.

She finds something quite different than a brother in law though. Her heart flutters, her cheeks grow red, whenever Wilhelm is near. Even after months of marriage he still has this strange effect on her. And she does the same to him. But neither of them wishes to address the topic, not even in the darkness of night when they are alone with their thoughts and their hearts. They keep quiet, but they are unable to keep their feelings from growing.

Even before their marriage, Heinrich changed Tilda, stole the life from her eyes and the freedom she once called her own. It is not that he actively dislikes her travel, or even forbids it. It is rather that he talks her into not wanting to leave. He knows what is proper, how she should act and behave. He knows what is good for the kingdom, for the family. And Tilda, naive as she is, believes his every word. Sometimes she does not even know if the thoughts inside her head, the things she longs for, are truly hers and not planted there by him. But she does not realise how deep she is falling and how dark the place is he leaves her in.

As Heinrich grows more and more distant, colder with every day, as Tilda sees his true face and all the anger he carefully hid before, the pull Wilhelm has on her heart grows stronger.

It is then that Tilda discovers her pregnancy. She dreams once more of a happy family, of changing her husband into a loving father, like she herself once had. Tilda – as in every other verse – is scared of being a mother, but she sees the possibilities, the bright future ahead of them.

And Wilhelm steps aside.

Drystan is born one winter night, but the little family is just not destined for happiness.

Just like Tilda before him, Heinrich manipulates little Drystan, shapes him into the son and heir he needs. He is a lively child, but also very shy. He loves to play with his cousins, chase them around the beautiful gardens his aunt Sigrid once planted. But whenever his lord father is around, Drystan tries his best to act all grown up and noble. Like the prince Heinrich wants him to be. For is he not the count's way to power?

Drystan adores his father, twists the memories into happiness and colour, while Tilda begins to see nothing but cold blue eyes. Her son's eyes are green, but they are freckled with the light blue of Heinrich’s and as she watches Drystan grow she fears that he will become like his father. There is nothing she can do, no way she can break the spell Heinrich has on the young boy, without hurting Drystan. So Tilda does the one thing she always does, no matter the verse, she pulls away instead of fighting. She calls herself defeated before she even arrived on the battlefield. And for a few short years, it looks as if Drystan is truly lost to her, adoring his father and every word that falls from the older man's mouth.

Up until that dreadful night of the accident. Wilhelm, Bain, and Heinrich are out hunting, but only two of them return. It is a terrible accident that takes Heinrich's life and all of Dale is in mourning for months. Tilda's heart breaks for her husband, even after all he did, for that dream of happiness seems lost to her forever now. Young Drystan almost dies of grief.

But Wilhelm is there to put Tilda back together, to give her comfort and strength. And old feelings are woken up again, seeds that spend all winter in cold earth finally see the sun, grow and come alive with spring's new green. Years after Heinrich's death Tilda marries again, this time it is a man that loves her truly and when her first daughter, Hanna, is born their home is truly filled with warmth and laughter.

It takes a long time for Drystan to warm towards his uncle, now step-father, to accept that his mother is happier with someone else. And it takes even longer for him to smile again. But eventually, he moves forward, becoming a guard of the city, just like he always dreamed he would be. Drystan leaves Dale on a mission towards Gondor to accompany traveling merchants. It is there that his entire world view is shattered and turned upside down.

For he meets his father.

Heinrich, presumed dead, has been exiled by king Bain himself. After Wilhelm, and another guard named Lancelot, discovered that the king's own brother in law was plotting against the crown and Heinrich planned to murder Bain, he was found guilty of treason and almost sentenced to death. But Bain could not kill the man his nephew adored and loved, Wilhelm could not kill his brother. And both men made the mistake of being merciful. And they sent him away, promising to kill him should he ever set foot in Dale again.

Lancelot, the only other person – save the queen - that knows of the plot against the king, was not part of the hunting party and did therefore not know how it all ended.

Both Tilda and Drystan believed Heinrich dead, but Heinrich is convinced that Tilda plotted against him with the others. And now she even married his brother, though legally she is still bond to him. Should such information surface, should the king's own role in this dramatic play come to light, the very foundations of Dale, the rules the city is built upon, might begin to teeter. And Heinrich would love nothing more.

Drystan is devastated, unsure of what to do, what to think. He loves his father dearly, but the man that plots to kill his uncle and the father he remembers are like two pieces of a puzzle that just do not fit together, no matter how much force he puts upon them. Wilhelm and Bain, the men he trusted for years, the king he swore his loyalty to, the role model he always looked up to, lied to him. They caused so much pain, tortured his heart. And for what?

He is conflicted and Heinrich is whispering in his ear once more...

#me: I am going to quickly write a few sentences about the new verse #me: vomits 1500 words onto the page #*jazzhands I guess*#headcanons #two verse updates in three days? What even is happening #;;out of Laketown #;;Das Lächeln der Fortuna - Prinzessin von Thal #;;my prince #;;you stole the love that I saved for myself - Heinrich von Reuß #;;our love was a mix of chaos and art - Heinrich und Tilda #otp: ;;you're my mortal flaw and I am your fatal sin #;;mein Fels in der Brandung; egal zu welcher Zeit - Wilhelm von Henneberg #;;Fräulein Goethe zu meinem Fräulein Schiller - Flora tag #;;Danke Lieblingsmensch; schön das wir uns kennen - Giuli tag

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tyrannysaurusfloof · 5 years

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Masterlist (Non Youtube/Star Wars Works)

Since I’ve only recently decided to post my fanfiction here as well, I figured posting one long masterlist of them was better than an individual post for each one /o/

Links and summaries under the cut due to length |D

Tolkien Verse

- TOLKIEN SENTENCE PROMPTS: A series of multi-chapter, oneshot based sentence prompts covering a variety of Tolkien characters and pairings. Ongoing.

- HIS FATHER’S SON: Post BOFA Everyone Lives AU. After surviving and recovering from his wounds at the Battle of Five Armies Thorin is crowned rightful King under the Mountain with Fili and Kili at his side. Dis arrives from Ered Luin and the family are finally reunited in their true home again. However, a family secret kept hidden for over 80 years is soon revealed and the lives of the heirs of Durin are changed forever. Complete

- TO HEAL A SICKNESS: Fili is sick and nothing seems to be curing him. At only 50 no one is convinced he will survive. Kili makes the decision to leave Ered Luin, despite Fili’s condition, to find a cure for him in the wide world of Middle Earth. He is determined to do this because if there is one thing he cannot afford to lose from his life, it’s his best friend and brother. Complete.

- DANCES WITH ELVES: Glorfindel is extremely excited about the arrival of the dwarves and yet also seems to be excited about the prospect of dancing with Erestor a midnight gathering he has organised for some reason. Kili is bored because Thorin is gone and he wants to explore so Fili makes up a reason for him to. They stumble over the little midnight dancing session of the elves and decide to join in, but only if it could be done dwarven style. Cue some fun between the heirs of Durin and Glorfindel. Complete.

- BATTLES FOUGHT BEFORE: AU where Legolas fought the Battle of Five Armies alongside Thranduil and did not go off to Gundabad. Legolas reflects on the death and destruction during the Battle of Five Armies on the eve of the Battle of Helms Deep and wonders how he had ended up in the same position again. Complete.

- BONDING: Aragorn worries about the lives of the people of Rohan but Legolas can see that his worry goes down deeper than that and he challenges him about it. The two friends discuss Aragorn’s choices and what they might mean. Eowyn’s stew features. Complete.

- ELROND’S SUSPICIONS: Elrond suddenly realises that since the elves of Greenwood (Mirkwood) have such strong magic that when he has had dealings with Thranduil in the past, after Legolas had passed his majority, it could have actually been his young son in disguise of an illusion. Thranduil and Legolas are approaching Rivendell so Elrond decides to investigate and see if he can find out if his suspicions are true. Complete.

Dragon Age

- Advice From a Ghost: Fergus and Gilmore don't exactly see eye to eye over marriage, but they don't have to worry because they both have someone looking out for them that gives the best advice. AKA Fergus and Gilmore hallucinate about their dead brother/friend after an argument. Complete

- To Be By Your Side I Would Willing Storm the Gates of the Black City: a collection for zevwarden week on tumblr /o/

- A Teryn and His Knight: Fergus Cousland has a problem. And that problem has a name - Ser Gilmore. There's only one resolution.

- Milk Adventures: Fenris wants milk. Hawke has no idea where to buy it. Shenanigans ensue.

- Ferelden Flowers: Carver wants to give flowers. He has no idea what he's doing really.

Fire Emblem Kakusei/Fire Emblem Awakening Verse

- THE THIEF AND THE PRIEST: Libra is a priest of Naga and keeps to himself as well as he can. He looks after everyone that he can, but he doesn’t get too close to people. That doesn’t stop people trying to get close to him. He looks feminine and people assume he’s a woman and try to come onto him. This starts to change when he meets Gaius. Gaius is a thief from all over the place and he just happens to be in the right place at the right time to save Libra from his not so welcome admirers. That is the start of a strange relationship between them, something neither of them really regret. Complete.

- MATERIALISTIC POSSESSIONS: Four times Virion presented Libra with elaborate presents. Four times Libra couldn’t refuse. Complete.

CSI: Miami Verse

- FALLEN FROM HEAVEN: AU where Ryan Wolfe is not all he seems. Eric Delko finds many strange things start happening involving Ryan after he meets the strange man Ryan calls dad and he becomes determined to find out exactly what the reason behind all this is. Ryan however tries his best to keep Eric in the dark but when their emotions get mixed up in Eric’s search it makes it a lot more complicated. Horatio seems to know more than he’s letting on. Complete.

- PARENTAL ADVISORY: Alternate Universe. When Horatio and the team are called out to a homicide they find Ryan Wolfe, an eighteen year old boy who has been locked up for his entire life by his paranoid - and now dead - parents. As Horatio unravels the story surrounding Ryan and the death of his parents he faces a revelation unique and disturbing. Complete.

[K] Project Verse

- [K] PROJECT MURDER SERIES: A three part series revolving around Sarumi and Mikorei. The main story is a multi-chapter fic focusing on “Munakata Reisi is sure Suoh Mikoto is living on inside his head and he doesn’t quite know what to do.”

Yu-Gi-Oh Verse

- I SHALL RECOUNT TO YOU (RE-WRITE): It’s been twelve years since the fateful duel that sent Atem to the afterlife and led Yuugi to a life alone. Life carried on as normal, until a dream leads Malik to the discovery that Atem wants to return to the modern world. Cracking the mystery and bringing the Pharaoh back, Malik, Yuugi and friends, end up with a bit of a mess on their hands caused by the ancient ritual that was used. Features a lot of ships. Ongoing.

Dramatical Murder (Dmmd) Verse

- INTERESTING EXPERIMENT: (A look at what Aoba’s Dmmd Virus/Trip bad end and Re:Connect Virus/Trip route would have been like had it been Mizuki and not Aoba.) Virus and Trip have never heard of anyone recovering from having their mind completely broken by Scrap before, especially someone who was controlled by Morphine. And yet right before their eyes it was happening and they knew in that moment they would get more excitement from Mizuki than they could from Aoba. Complete.

Tales of Vesperia Verse

- WHIRRING HEART: Yuri notices that something is bothering Raven the night before Brave Vesperia are due to go to the Tower of Tarqaron. Concerned with the timing Yuri goes to talk to Raven and finds out the old man is not as confident as it seems. Yuri offers some comfort almost without realising it. Complete.

#tales of series #the lord of the rings #the hobbit #csi miami #k project #fire emblem awakening #masterlist #so queue me

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abrazimir · 3 years

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Some meme from this list years ago - Accepting @melnchly sent - ❝ were you in love? ❞ (from lothiriel!)

It was somewhat of a relief to finally tie off the mainsail and duck out of the boom’s destructive path. Amrothos at least had the good manners to look contrite as Boromir dropped down upon a cushioned box beside him and prodded at the large bruise no doubt rapidly forming under his shirt.

“In my defense,” Amrothos began, hand fidgeting on the tiller, “you do usually take it up faster.”

“Lothiriel, hit him.” Elphir called up from the front of the Schooner and Lothiriel obliged her elder brother without delay, slipper already in hand in preparation for the loud clap across Amrothos’ head. A small ‘ow’ was the only real complaint to be heard from him and Boromir allowed himself a chuckle as the siblings glared at each other. “If you kept your eye to the wind and not to the clouds, you’d be a less deadly helmsman,” the girl scolded in a tone eerily alike to her mother’s, which also gave Boromir a smile.

Once Elphir was satisfied with the tie off he’d made for the jib sail, he joined them all at the tiller and Amrothos speedily brought them out of the head wind, the sails all giving a satisfying snap as they pulled taut and sped them on their way. The spray of the sea cooled the heady summer sun and filled the air with sea-scent and Boromir let himself lean back, close his eyes, and enjoy the sounds of gulls overhead.

The party was quiet for a moment, each enjoying the respite, before Lothiriel came to sit at Boromir’s side. He cracked an eye open in time to see her bend and pull at the hem on his boot, which confused him until she made a noise of interest. “A courting river?” she hummed curiously.

Boromir’s chest gave a minute clench of weary nerves, but he said nothing.

“So it is! I know you misplaced your deck shoes Boromir, did you steal some poor stranger’s boots?” Amrothos teased, but Elphir shook his head thoughtfully.

“Those are Rohir made are they not? The Rohirrim don’t embroider courting rivers.”

And all at once Boromir felt three very insistent eyes upon him.

He sighed and opened his eyes once again, finding Lothiriel’s gaze first, with her barely contained interest, still too young for full propriety. “Were you in love Boromir?” She asked, cutting so quickly to the chase that her brothers flushed with embarrassment, though they notably did not dissuade her.

Boromir remained coolly unconcerned, though he shook his head and tutted in his disapproving elder brother manner, one they all were sensitive too. And yet he did not feel like lying.

“Yes.” He huffed simply, though by their reaction you’d have thought he’d told them he was married. ‘The irony of that..’ Boromir thought to himself, before he was plied with questions.

“How did we not know you were courting?” Elphir asks, in a tone unusual for his normally dour manner.

“You were fifteen at the time.” He answered again, simply.

“So you are no longer taking the river with this lady?” Amrothos’ tone is all gossip but Lothiriel looks saddened.

“We are no longer courting,” is Boromir’s diplomatic answer, one which disappoints them all. So much so that Amrothos calls hang to politeness,

“They are rohir made boots, was she a lady of Rohan?”

“Amrothos!” Elphir scolded, finally reaching his limit, “you are a Prince still.”

“And a curious one in the middle of the ocean at that! I am sure my reputation will survive, will you not tell us more of her Boromir?” Elphir seemed put out but, again, did not find it in his heart to stall the questioning.

‘They are all very young...’ Boromir thought to himself, hearing immediately Theodred’s answer of ‘And you aren’t?’ which gave him a rueful smirk.

“It was in Rohan,” he conceded, which spurred a surprised Elphir to ask, “Then who bore witness?” before he could think better of it.

And for a moment Boromir considered his options, still endeavouring to maintain his honour and keep to the truth as much as possible. But a grin spread over his face as he eventually decided that one small half lie would be acceptable, just this once.

“Theodred was there.” He said, trying not to hold the name too fondly on his tongue, though his cousins were all too disappointed to notice.

“Damn,” said Amrothos, “well we can’t interrogate him.”

“No you cannot!” Laughed Boromir.

“Because he is the Prince and heir to Rohan’s crown.” Elphir says pointedly at his brother.

“No, because he’s so damn far away.”

As the brothers bicker Lothiriel shuffled a mite closer and gained Boromir’s attention.

“Will you court again, do you think?” She asked with wide empathetic eyes.

Boromir grunted and shook his head, “No, I think not Lothiriel,” he answered, but his wide warm smile seemed to reassure her that he was not at all unhappy about it. Satisfied, smiling back, she pulled at his arm and he obligingly wrapped it about her shoulders to keep out the sharp ocean chill.

#;;asks #melnchly #about:lothiriel #oh I need to remember my tagging system #OK this experiment worked out #you can reply to this if you like but I've done a lot of god modding I realise XD

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thestraggletag · 7 years

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Hi there! I've recently discovered the Eowyn/ Grima 'ship, and I wondered if I could trouble you for some fic recs? (I seem to remember you posting about this 'ship in the past) Please & thank you!!

Thanks for waiting for a few days for a reply! There’s actually a really easy and short answer to this: Go here and GO NUTS. @airy-minotaur literally IS Grimowyn. Full stop, everyone go home, that’s it. I actually got hooked to her fics years ago in FF.net and later I found her here, through some fucking magic and now we’re friends and OMG, IT’S LIKE BEING FRIENDS WITH AN ACTOR/WRITER/ARTIST YOU FANGIRL ABOUT, IT’S THE BEST. She’s also super funny and has this section in her tumblr dedicated to “reviewing” the worst romance novels ever that is totally worth checking out too.

Now, thankfully, Airy is pretty prolific. And there’s literally NOTHING she’s written that I don’t fucking ADORE, usually angrily while I shake my laptop. But if you want my personal, read this first recs, here they are:

A Crown Laid Heavy On My Head (PG) - The House of Eorl is dead - all slain, save one: Eowyn, the last vestige of the House of Eorl. Taken in and raised by rebels on the borderlands of Rohan, Eowyn returns to Edoras in disguise, meaning to recruit others to her cause and gain access to Usurper King Wormtongue when the time comes to cut his throat. Instead, she finds the King is much cleverer than she thinks - and her duty perhaps far more than she can bear alone.

The Dog of Dunland: WIP. Alternatively known as the Slave!Grima fic. In an AU Rohan, Saruman’s spies have convinced the aged and ill Theoden that making slaves of the Dunlendings is the best way to punish them for their recent attacks on Rohan’s borders. Thousands of slaves are brought from Dunland into Rohan - but only one is granted the great fortune to serve the Lady Eowyn: Grima son of Galmod. Under her favor, Grima becomes known as Eowyn’s little pet - the Dog of Dunland. But Grima is far more than a pampered slave, and Eowyn more dangerous than her enemies may realize.

Queen of Thieves: The Tale of Maid Hood [R] - Lady Eowyn fled her life as the Usurper King Theodred’s cousin and wife to Theodred’s right hand, Lord Counsellor Wormtongue, in protest against her cousin’s crowning when Theoden King yet lived. Six long years later, and Eowyn has become a hero known only as Maid Hood, a rebel and a fighter stealing money from the king’s men and giving it to the poor. But the Wormtongue knows her hiding place, and her camp may not be safe for long.

The Right of Choice [R] - AU. Grima is a healer in Dunland. He finds a freezing Eowyn, lost and wounded, just outside his home, and takes her in to care for her.

Sound and Fury [R] - A fight in Grima’s teenage years leaves his hearing permanently damaged; but clever Grima hides his disability well, reading lips so fluidly that no one guesses his secret. No one, that is, except Lady Eowyn…

The Wiles of a Woman (Part 1 [PG] - Part 2 [PG] - Part 3 [NC-17]) - Eowyn has never been much for romance or attraction; but when Grima appears in Edoras for the first time, her heretofore latent romantic interests spring painfully to life. But while Grima seems to want her, he certainly doesn’t trust her; and nothing will convince him that her motives in this are pure.

Dark Stallion (NC-17) - Grima is the Usurper King of Rohan, and husband to reluctant Eowyn. When he returns after court one day infuriated and looking for an escape, things take a turn for the surprisingly tender.

All Hail the Queen(NC-17) - Eowyn’s relations are all dead, and Eowyn is made queen at a young age. Many disapprove of her choice of counsellor - the half-blooded bastard Grima son of Galmod - but given that he is not only her counsellor but also her consort, there is little they can say against him that will sway the queen herself…

Year’s End (Part 1 [R] - Part 2 [PG]) - Eowyn gets a little tipsy and ends up saying and doing things she may not otherwise have done.

See no Evil: WIP. Prompt was Blind!Eowyn and Tutor!Grima. Blinded in the fire that took her family’s lives and left her sole heir to the throne of Rohan, Eowyn ascends the throne and finds herself embroiled in a bitter battle for the seat beside her throne. The title of Lord Counsellor is very much desired, but none crave it more than Grima called Wormtongue.

Enjoy!

#grimowyn #djlouat

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garden-ghoul · 7 years

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appendix blog, part 1

“going straight from talmud to LotR appendices is probably the easiest transition ever”

There’s a little beginning note that explains why certain things were included and how various sources are quoted... good good historian formatting.

The Third Age was held to have ended when the Three Rings passed away in September 3021, but for the purposes of records in Gondor F.A.I began on March 25, 3021.

See. This kind of bullshit. This is my favorite part because nothing makes a world feel more real than neighboring (ish) kingdoms disagreeing on how to mark time. Listen it’s fine, relativity dictates that events at different locations and different times can be “simultaneous” depending on how you look at it. The One Ring was destroyed at exactly the same time as Galadriel and Elrond’s boat set off from the Grey Havens.

I hope everyone who knows anything about relativity is mildly pissed. *I* sure don’t know anything about relativity, and am grievously misusing it. Er, right, I’m blogging the appendices.

THE NUMENOREAN KINGS

...this starts with an account of the creation of the Silmarils. Listen. LISTEN.

There were three unions of the Eldar and the Edain: Lúthien and Beren; Idril and Tuor; Arwen and Aragorn. By the last the long-sundered branches of the Half-elven were reunited and their line was restored.

Isn’t Arwen already a descendant of both lines. LISTEN!! Mr Tolkien!! What are you on about!! He even goes on to explain Elwing and Earendil’s marriage in the next couple paragraphs! Are the “branches of the half-elven” actually... half-elven mortals and half-elven immortals?? What do you mean “their line was restored”?? Is this some more monarchist genetic purity bullshit?? Gentle reader, I’m sorry for the absolute profusion of question marks, but I don’t really understand what he is obliquely hinting at.

The sons of Eärendil were Elros and Elrond, the Peredhil or Half-elven. In them alone the line of the heroic chieftains of the Edain in the First Age was preserved; and after the fall of Gil-galad the lineage of the High-elven Kings was also in Middle-earth only represented by their descendants.

Okay I really like this. After the first age there are no longer any pure noble lines of any particular race. Nobility, as we see in Rohan, just sort of happens organically. I know this is the exact opposite of what Tolkien wants me to get out of this, but I’m reading it as “nobility is arbitrary, and heritages have no inherent value, especially after their context has been lying under the sea for thousands of years.”

There’s a bit about the founding of Numenor and they mention Meneltarma. My favorite Meneltarma thing is that after the world was rounded it still presumably sticks up out of the ocean and has a view of Tol Eressea, and people keep sailing around looking for it. I’m not sure we ever heard for sure if Tol Eressea ended up on Middle Earth or in space when Numenor fell. Then there’s a list of rulers of Numenor. Anyone have sources on the last two ruling queens, Tar-Telperien and Tar-Vanimelde? They also mention the divide between Tar- kings and Ar- kings--the latter have Adunaic names, which explains what I’ve been wondering since I read the Akallabeth. The Faithful are even... linguistically faithful. Because of course they are, it’s Tolkien. Linguistic decisions are a primary method of characterization. I’m still mad Ar-Inziladun changed his name to Tar-Palantir when he re-Faitful’d. Inziladun is the coolest fucking name ever. PLEASE let elves learn about the letter Z. Also in re the execution of those speaking Sindarin on Numenor... I wonder what Tolkien thought about the way those methods of linguistic persecution were and are used on real-ass Earth? Did he hold all natural languages to be good and worthy? (most likely: no) It’s not like I need his probably racist opinions on this but I want him to see! Double standards!

They mention the palantiri, and I want to say quickly how rad it is that if you use them for one specific thing a lot they can get stuck on it. Their animating magic gets confused and trims the subroutines that allow them to look at other stuff. I’m fond of these buggy magical artifacts.

After this there’s a lineage of Elendil’s descendants in exile. I love the phrase “ship-kings,” and I hope Tolkien is going to explain why they are called that. Nope, he did not explain. Arnor ended up being divided into three kingdoms with silly names due to an inheritance spat. I remember someone (Tom Bombadil?) talking about small kingdoms, and I expect they will all be destroyed in the war against Angmar any day now. Oh no maybe they will destroy themselves! Just like any European fairy tale with three brothers, two of them are wicked and will not stop bickering over Amon Sul and the palantir there. While this is happening, the chief Nazgul moves in up north specifically to kill them all, but apparently they don’t notice and he has plenty of time to establish infrastructure and gather armies. Guyssss. Oh! And this is the place where they name him the Witch-King! Thank goodness that’s taken care of.

This one guy in the Good Brother kingdom tried to take over the other two Arnorian kingdoms, because they didn’t have the ~blood of Isildur~ ruling them. Bull! Shit! Who gives a fuck, man! Don’t conquer people this is basic fucking courtesy. ESPECIALLY not when Angmar is RIGHT THERE waiting for the Evil Brother kingdoms to try to secede and take advantage of your strife! Oh that king’s name was Argeleb though, a really good name, a good name for a star.

It is said that the mounds of Tyrn Gorthad, as the Barrowdowns were called of old, are very ancient, and that many were built in the days of the old world of the First Age by the forefathers of the Edain, before they crossed the Blue Mountains into Beleriand, of which Lindon is all that now remains. Those hills were therefore revered by the Dúnedain after their return; and there many of their lords and Kings were buried.

Hey. Rock on. Elves aren’t the only forebears who did cool shit and who we owe cultural continuity to. Ah then there’s this cool bit about how Ardevui (some king) had to flee Fornost and stay the winter with some snow people (!!) who gradually... warmed up to him, to such an extent that when Cirdan came to fetch the Dunedain there the snow people were like “nah stay till summer, then we can take down the Witch-King.” Ardevui didn’t listen, and almost immediately died in a shipwreck. But he did give the snow people a Foreshadowing Ring that probably is going to show up later. Ardevui was the last king of Arnor, but like, he had an heir. I guess the guy just wasn’t feeling kingship. Aragorn could have already been a king, except that hobbits didn’t really need any kinging and there weren’t enough Dunedain left in the north for it to be worth it. The royal line started a tradition of fostering their sons in Rivendell. So they’d be elvish enough to seem kingly, I guess. Elvish is like French, you’ve got to know it if you’re noble. We also hear about how Celebrian was tortured by orcs (why were there orcs in the north? has Angmar not fallen yet?) and had to go away to the West for her trauma.

And now we come to Aragorn II, the current king, who sometimes vacations in his country house near the Shire. But big folk are illegal in the Shire, so he never actually goes in. Just hosts exclusive parties at his mansion. Also we find out that Sam’s daughter Elanor is 1) very beautiful (presumably as a result of magic dust) and 2) a handmaid of Arwen.

Aha! Finally, ship-kings! They’re exactly what they sound like, a succession of kings who built navies and conquered stuff along the western coast. I just can’t bring myself to care that much about the Gondor section, because there’s no hobbits and so far Beruthiel hasn’t been mentioned either. It’s just a series of small wars with literally every one of Gondor’s neighbors. Oh wait no now we’ve got a bunch of Gondorrim being rude to some king’s wife because she’s of a “lesser race,” which caused a civil war. “No, no,” they reportedly said, “we’re just concerned her children will die when they’re 30, like normal humans.”

Then there’s a bunch more wars I don’t care about. Arvedui tries to claim kingship of Gondor, because Arthedain apparently have a tendency toward greed and too much respect for successions. Gondor just stopped talking to him and crowned someone else as king. Better luck next time, asshole. All right, here we go, one of the kings (?) from Gondor, Earnur, comes up to the Grey Havens to help retake Arnor and Cirdan and everyone go off on Angmar. Earnur almost kills the Witch-King but his horse is too cowardly. Glorfindel shows up and makes the prophecy that no man will kill the Witch-King. Okay, what? Since when is Glorfindel a prophet? Among elves that capacity is usually reserved for 1) mothers (and only in regard to their children) and 2) rulers of countries. Anyway after Earnur goes back to Gondor and becomes king he is laughably easy to bait by calling him a chicken, with the consequence that he rides to Minas Morgul to fight the Witch-King and gets tortured to death. He was the last king of Gondor, because mumble mumble blood purity hangups.

More wars, more wars. Duirng Denethor’s father’s reign a Mystery Guy from a Mystery Place shows up and is just really super good at fortifying Gondor, but he leaves as soon as he’s done enough deeds to make it safe. They call him Thorongil, but I kind of suspect it’s Aragorn. That would just make Denethor’s attitude toward Aragorn in RotK more hilarious, because young Denethor really resented how much everyone loved Thorongil more than him. This is also the origin of Denethor’s distrust of Gandalf, since Thorongil kept telling Ecthelion to trust him.

Oh I thought eventually there would be like a chapter break or something. TOMORROW is Aragorn and Arwen.

#blog of the rings

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maid-of-the-golden-deer · 7 years

Photo

(The crossed out ones were class/character that didn’t make the cut)

So I’m coming up with a fairly expansive JJBA Fire Emblem AU and this is everyone I have so far. I know what i want to do for villains but the player units are more fleshed out. The supports and character endings I have listed aren’t definite aside from the obvious ones (and I probably messed a few things up seeing as this is a LONG post). Exposition and character closeups:

(I thought it’d be cool if a character PREMOTED to lord, sort of like Ike, but instead of from another special class like him, from a regular class.) He’s a prince from a small kingdom, but because of certain circumstances he ran off to join the Supplena Mercenaries. Best growth is skill and speed, decent strength, meh defense. He has an ax exclusive to him and that’s unbreakable. He can support with all the Supplena Mercs as well as Josuke, Jotaro, and Erina. Has a paired ending with Caesar, Suzie Q, and Lisa Lisa.

Leader of the Supplena Merecnaries, and Joseph’s mother. She’s your customary early game crutch, but is like Seth and Titania and is useful throughout. She is like a kind but firm mother to her men, and none of them would dare doubt her authority. No one but her and the king know why she left the kingdom. Similar growths to Joseph. Can support Joseph, Caesar, Suzie Q and Tomoko. Has a paired ending with them all except Caesar.

Lisa Lisa’s second in command, and childhood friend of Suzie Q’s. Abut pouty and prideful, his boasts are backed up by skills. He shares a rivalry with Joseph, though secretly they consider each other best friends. He has good strength growths, good skill but not as good as Lisa Lisa/Joseph, but better defense. Can support with Lisa Lisa, Joseph and Suzie Q Has a paired ending with Joseph.

Pegasus knight service of the Supplena Mercenaries. She’s cheerful and a bit of a ditz, but is extremely capable. She adores Lisa Lisa and grew up with Caesar, and see him like a brother. Teases Joseph often. Abnormally high strength growths and cap for her class, but the typical low defense weakness. Can support Lisa Lisa, Caesar, Joseph and Erina, but only has paired endings with Joseph and Lisa Lisa.

An archer who joined the mercenaries at the same time as Joseph. His backstory is a mystery to the rest of the company as well, but in truth he’s a noble son who grew up with Joseph and followed him from the castle. He’s rational and down to earth, a stark contrast to his friend. Though he’s young, he has the making to climb the leadership latter with his rationality and experience. Has high speed growths. Can support with Joseph, Speedwagon, Suzie Q and Okuyasu, and has paired ends with (I don’t know who yet)

A cleric from a kingdom neighboring Joseph’s who came to the Supplena Mercenaries for aid. She is the court physician for Prince Jonathan and left on his behalf. Their kingdom is under siege from an army of what seem like the undead, and is headed by one of their former generals, Dio! She’s kind and sweet, but is unafraid to speak her mind and fight for what she wants. She has typical good cleric growths. She can support with Jonathan, Speedwagon, Joseph and Suzie Q. Her only paired ending is with Jonathan.

(Lazy drawing sorry) A good friend of Jonathan’s who volunteered to bodyguard Erina. He’s a good natured and excitable, but is also reliable in a fight. He didn’t come from noble birth, but after Jonathan saved him when they were children he worked his way up with honor in battle to be one of his retainers. He has typical grothws for a fighter, with slightly higher luck. Can support with Jonathan and Erina. Has no paired endings

(That doesn’t even look like him smdh) The prince that Erina and Speedwagon are in service of. He’s kind and fair, if a bit slovenly at times. He sends out his two most trusted vassals to get aid for his nation while he stays behind to fight and defend their castle, and thus joins far later than them. He’s been in love with Erina since they were children. He has good growths all around, with excellent strength and skill. He has an unbreakable sword exclusive to him. Can support with Erina, Speedwagon, and Jotaro. His only paired end is with Erina.

A young knight in service of the largest country on the continent. He may appear to be just a knight-in-training, but he’s actually the bastard son of the king (and therefore brother to Jolyne and Jotaro). He’s always known this, and though it’s a secret the rumor spread. He hates the whispers of nepotism behind his back. The player recruits him by explaining the great evil (Dio and what is possessing him (the Pillar Men)) and he commands his unit (Rohan, Koichi, Yukako, and Reimi) to help you. He’s kind, almost to a fault, but is prone to mischief. He has an unbreakable lance that can deal magic damage. If you insult his hair (imagine it more exaggerated than I drew it here) or his mother, he’ll fly off into rage. The king kept him around for succession emergencies. He has good growths all around, with strangely good growths in magic AND strength (shhh I know you couldn’t growth both in the GBA games shhhh), but his defense and res are somewhat lacking, He can support with Joseph, Jotaro, Okuyasu, Tomoko, Rohan, Reimi, Jolyne and Koichi. he has paired endings with Tomoko and Okuyasu.

A boisterous young knight who many consider dim. He enrolled in service of the king when he was young, but then he and his brother suddenly disappeared for years. He’s first found as an enemy unit, and can only be recruited by Josuke, either by talking to him or defeating him. He dies permanently if it’s anyone else. His good heart offsets his occasionally...oaf-ish tendencies. His brother, Keicho, is fought and killed as a boss, and Okuyasu has a complex about it. He has extremely high strength but his speed suffers. Can support with Koichi, Smokey, Polnareff, Reimi and Josuke. He only has a paired ending with Josuke (so far).

An archer in service of the royal house. He is one of the few people aware of Josuke’s royal lineage, but is also one of the few to never treat him differently for it. Him and Josuke have been good friends since they were young because of that. Koichi secretly serves as Jouske’s retainer. He’s a good guy, but overly friendly, even when he doesn’t want to be, and it gets him in sticky situations. He has good speed and skill, but his strength and def are lacking. Good res. He can support with Josuke, Okuyasu, Reimi, Yukako and Rohan. Has a paired ending with Yukako and Rohan.

A dark mage who aligned herself with the kingdom for reasons unknown. In actuality, it was because Koichi was kind to her once, and she followed him home. Is obsessed with him, but is willing to step aside and let him have his happiness. She has a somewhat dark personality, but is more than willing to help people and be kind/ Not much is known about her past except for that she met Koichi. Her expression rarely changes. Can support with Koichi and Kakyoin. Her only paired ending is with Koichi.

An irate priest who only joined the clergy because it was a family tradition. He ABHORS Josuke for reasons only the two of them know. He’s callous but not a bad man, and is good at what he does. He’s also an excellent painter, and has painted many royal portraits. He somehow got roped into secretly being Josuke’s retainer. He’s got pretty normal priests stats, but high magic for a male unit and average def (which is above average for a healer). Can support with Josuke, Koichi and Reimi. Has a paired ending with Reimi.

A pegasus knight under commander Tomoko. Kind and determined, she is weighed down by a terrible secret that few know about. She’s also older than she looks, just shy of thirty years old. One of the most liked members of the army. Especially great res and def growths, passable on everything else. Can support with Tomoko, Josuke, Koichi, Okuyasu and Rohan. Has a paited ending with Rohan.

Commander of the pegasus knights of Josuke’s kingdom, and she’s tough as nails. She was once a concubine to the king, but when she got pregnant with Josuke, the king offered a boon of her choosing to keep quiet about it. She choose a commission in the army once the baby was born and rose through the ranks on her own merit. She is a stern mother, but she also adores her son and and will go to great lengths for him. She followed Josuke when she heard he just up and joined some mercenary company, but doesn’t scold him, and joins when they explain everything to her. Similar grows to Josuke, but with better defenses. She can support with Lisa Lisa, Ann, Reimi and Josuke. Has a paired end with Lisa Lisa and Josuke.

(This is probably even worse than Jonathan I’m sORRY) Crown prince of the kingdom and brother to Josuke and Jolyne. He’s overly serious and a stick int he mud, and doesn’t even start the game as a very good heir. He’s a little quick to resort to viloence, but is a good guy overall and cares about his friends in his own gruff way.He was commanded to follow Josuke by the king when the new spread he left to make sure he doesn’t reveal his lineage, but Jotaro decides to join you (because he wants to help and he hates stuffy castle life). He has a sword exclusive to him that lowers the enemy’s def after he attacks. He has EXCELLENT strength and speed, but his luck and res are shit. Can support with Kakyoin, Polnareff, Ann Josuke, Jonathan, Jolyne and Joseph. Has a paired end with Kakyoin.

(WARNING; I KNOW LITTLE ABOUT THE FOLLOWING CHARACTERS SO THEY ARE GOING TO BE MORE BASIC THAN THE ABOVE)

A mage in service of the king, and one of Jotaro’s retainers. Intelligent and calm, he often serves as a translator for Jotaro’s more...gruff moments. He’s quiet but is known to be cheerful and even mischievous around his friends at times. He’s got great magic and resistance, but the typical low defense of a mage. He can support with Jotaro, Polnareff, Avdol and Ann. Has a paired ending with Jotaro.

Jotaro’s other retainer. Boisterous and slow on the uptake at times. Very theatrical and loud, but is also willing to give help to those who need it. When he’s around Kakyoin and Jotaro he’s often the only one speaking. Something happened were he lost his sister, and bringing it up is not a good idea. He is unusually fast for a knight, but otherwise suffers from the same strengths and weakness. Can support with Jotaro, Kakyoin, Avdol and Okuyasu. Paired end with Avdol. (someone else probably later).

The court magician to Josuke, Jotaro and Jolyne’s father. He’s wise and patient, but terrifying in battle.He’s well traveled and knowledgeable of the continent and beyond. He has a paternal tendency and gives advice to Jotaro and company. He’s also a skilled tactician. He was sent along with Jolyne and Hermes as reinforcements. He has your average good magic for a sage, but his defense is unusually high, but average resistance. Can support with Jotaro, Polnareff, Kakyoin and Ann. Has a paired end with Polnareff.

(I MISSPELLED THIEF I WANT TO DIE) A young thief the army picks up when they’re on a boat (idk when that is yet). She tried to stowaway to run away from home. You can either dismiss her or keep her around, but she’s you only access to chests and doors without keys. She’s got a big mouth but a good heart, and a bit of a precocious crush on Jotaro. Can support with Jotaro, Kakyoin, Avdol and Tomoko. No paired endings (so far).

Josuke and Jotaro’s sister, and the youngest of them. She has a bit of a complex, as she was the youngest and treated like it, and was ignored by her older brother who she admired. She doesn’t take any shit, but is by no means entirely callous or a bad person, but occasionally makes impulsive bad decisions. She is sent as reinforcements once her father acknowledges the growing evil threat. She didn’t know about Josuke until she met him on the campaign, and it makes her even angrier at her father and eldest brother. She is just a flat out excellent until, only really lacking in resistance. Can support with Hermes, Jotaro, and Josuke (probably someone else later). Has a paired ending with Hermes.

Jolyne’s noble retainer and friend. They can seem a bit vitriolic with one another but have gotten alone for years. Similar to her friend in that she’s a bit brash and unrelenting, with the added bonus of being a bit more crass. Her stats pale a little to Lisa Lisa, but works well if you want another swordmaster. Can support with Jolyne and has an ending with her (I know nothing about her??? So I don’t know who else she’d talk to).

And that’s all I have! Like I said, I do have villains in mind, some of which are hinted at above. I’m picturing this ins a GBA game setting, with a few tweaks to fit the characters (like Josuke having a magic stats when GBA units can’t and etc).

#fire emblem #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #crossover #alternate universe #send me an ask/reblog with any additions or thoughts!#i only have serious knowledge of parts 2 and 4 so help with the rest would be appreciated #sorry for the probable many typos #long post #jojo fe au

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