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luckynumber-8 · 11 months

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As Cold as Ice (Sam Gamgee x F Hobbit! Reader)

Description: The Fellowship has been stopped at Caradrahas, and you and the hobbits are beginning to feel the cold.

Warnings: gets angsty, reader momentarily contemplates death

a/n: Well, I did it! First one shot! Also, I should mention I like writing in a universe that's closer to the books than the movies, and I thought, where better for an angsty fic than that part where they're stuck in the blizzard and everyone is getting hypothermia? Leave a comment of some feedback if you will, it's like "writer motivation juice":)

“Caradhras was called the Cruel, and has an ill name,” said Gimli, “long years ago, when rumor of Sauron had not been heard in these lands.”

“It matters little who is the enemy, if we cannot beat off his attack,” said Gandalf.

“But what can we do?” cried Pippin. He was leaning on Merry and Frodo, and he was shivering.

“Either stop where we are, or go back,” said Gandalf. “It is no good going on. Only a little higher, if I remember rightly, this path leaves the cliff and runs into a wide shallow trough at the bottom of a long hard slope. We should have no shelter there from snow, or stones – or anything else.”

“And it is no good going back while the storm holds,” said Aragorn. “We have passed no place on the way up that offered more shelter than this cliff-wall we are under now.”

“Shelter!” muttered Sam. “If this is shelter, then one wall and no roof make a house.”

~ J. R. R. Tolkien

You wrapped your cloak about your shoulders as tightly as it would go, rubbing the coarse, worn threads against your shoulders in a vain attempt to get warmer. The snowstorm hadn’t let up at all since the Fellowship had slowed to wait out the storm, and you were beginning to feel the biting cold – really feel it, in a deep and scary way that was freezing the feeling right out of your body and making you feel all thick and heavy.

To your right, the other four hobbits were huddled in a cluster behind Bill the pony, trying to stay warm. Sam, angel that he was, was actively trying to warm his companions up, rubbing their shoulders and pulling blankets out of packs to wrap them in. You watched as he wrapped a blanket around Frodo’s shoulders, then practically squawked in alarm and pulled Pippin up from where he’d been trying to lay his head down in the snow – he was the tiniest of the five of you and hadn’t been bearing the frigid temperatures very well.

Even though there was no heat to be found anywhere, a tiny part of your core warmed watching Sam take such good care of his friends. You knew that, even in a hopeless situation like this one, he’d fight until the very last to protect everyone that he could. Me next, a tiny voice in the back of your mind whispered. Please come take care of me next.

A gust of wind blew snowflakes into your eyelashes, and you choked on a cough as the bitterly cold air hit the back of your throat. You knew Sam wouldn’t be coming to warm you – you explicitly told him not to. There’d only been room for four to shelter behind Bill, and you knew in your heart of hearts that the other four were far more important to the quest than you were. They hadn’t asked for you to sneak after them on this quest – it wasn’t their fault that you’d been snooping to see why Sam was moving to Crickhollow. They didn’t make you chase after them into the old forest when they suddenly left early one morning, or stalk them until you were all caught by the Barrow-Wight. They weren’t supposed to be saddled with you, and you weren’t going to be the one extra person who caused the downfall of the Fellowship.

Sam had been angry when he found you’d tagged along. The two of you had fought – he’d said things that made your heart ache, like “you weren’t supposed to be here,” “I never wanted you involved in something like this,” “can’t you just go home, Y/N?” Because you wanted to be there. You wanted to be there, heart, body, and soul, because he was there. You’d die before you let Samwise Gamgee run off on a dangerous quest that he might never return from without saying so much as goodbye to you. In fact, there was quite a bit more you’d like to say to him, but the two of you had barely said two words in passing to each other since that fight. Because then the Nazgul had come, and you’d had no choice but to continue on with Strider and the rest. They were stuck with you.

But you weren’t as important. You weren’t needed, and you could feel it. Which was why you were letting the other hobbits take the available shelter; “I’ll be fine keeping watch here,” you’d told Sam shortly. “Tend to the others. I’ll sit with Boromir and Legolas.”

Now, the cold was getting to you, and almost twice as fast as the others. You’d been sitting on Boromir’s right, and his tall figure provided some refuge from the gusts of snow that blew at you, but small piles of white were beginning to collect in the folds of your clothing, and your eyelashes were cold against your face when you blinked, which you were doing much more slowly and frequently as the cold threatened to take you into a never-ending sleep.

Perhaps this is how they’ll get me off their hands, you thought dejectedly. This cold will freeze me to the bone, but perhaps it’s better off that way.

Another part of your mind pushed back. You haven’t told him how you feel yet, it argued. You’ve got to live for the day that you can hold Samwise’s hands and tell him that you love him, live for a time when his arms will give you all the warmth you could ever need – a time past this when we can have time for love again.

You remembered his scathing comments, the ones that proved you weren’t wanted.

Perhaps life was just full of those sorts of disappointments, sorely and bitterly freezing, as cold as the end you were surely about to meet.

You closed your eyes, letting the cold numb away the last of the feelings you would ever have.

“Y/N?”

A voice.

“Y/N! Oh, she’s so cold...I never should have let her out of my sight.”

It couldn’t be. Shouldn’t be.

“Please, someone, a blanket…anything! Get her warm. Bless you. Boromir. I’ll repay you somehow, swear. Hold on to me, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

You fastened yourself to the sound of Sam’s voice, and hauled on it as hard as you could to pull yourself back to the conscious world.

One eye opened, then the other. You gasped and shuddered as the cold came rushing back in an icy surge – the numbness was leaving, but at least you still had feeling in your extremities. As you came to, you noticed just the barest warm presence enveloping you, not unlike a blanket.

You half-expected to be met with snowflakes falling into your eyes, but none came. You were met with the image of a tall animal with four legs, shuffling its feet to keep warm.

“Bill?” You rasped, confused. Then you realized where you were – and how you were, more so.

It was Sam. Of course, it was Sam. He was holding you tightly in his arms, with the two of you seated so you were as close as possible; if you would have had any blood circulation to spare, you might have managed a blush. His warm chest pressed against your back, and a scrap of something soft was tucked around you – a scrap of Boromir’s cloak, you realized, cut rather jaggedly like it had been sliced with a sword.

“This will be the death of the halflings,” you heard Boromir say, but his voice was distant in your ears. You managed to tilt your head so you could look into Sam’s eyes.

I’m sorry for being such a burden, you wanted to say. I’m sorry that I’m here.

Instead, all you could stutter was, “S-s-so c-c-c-cold, hur-r-rts.”

Sam looked back at you, a startlingly fierce look in his eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry I let you go so far. But you’re going to get warm again, soon if I have any say in it. We’re going to be alright, Y/N.”

The sudden his change in his demeanor was unexpected, but you weren’t going to complain. You nestled closer, clutching the scrap of Boromir’s cloak in one hand and Sam’s arm in the other.

A rustle in the snow next to you – Legolas knelt down next to Sam, holding a bottle. “Miruvor,” he said softly. “Elven cordial – one small sip for each of us, but it holds the promise of fresh strength and warmth. There is enough to split between the five of you.” He handed the bottle to Sam with an encouraging look.

Sam held the bottle straight out to you. “You have mine, Y/N,” he said stoutly. “I haven’t felt the cold much, I’ll do alright without.”

It was tempting to take the liquor and down as much as you could – it was clear and sparkling in the bottle and smelled of warm spices. But you pressed it back into Sam’s hand, noting how his fingertips had an icy coolness to them. “There’s enough for each of us,” you echoed. “You first, Samwise.” You tightened your grip on his wrist, weak as it was, hoping to communicate that you hadn’t completely lost your strength.

Sam shook his head and uncorked the flask. “I’d never known anyone more stubborn before you, do you know that?”

You chuckled, just a little. “I’d s-say yes, but you’ve known your-r-self your whole life.”

He was convinced quickly – you guessed he was colder than he let on. After a tiny sip, it was your turn. The liquid hit your throat warmer than you’d expected, and you shivered at its sweetness and flavor. The miruvor had a vitality to it that you’d never gotten from any food before – part of the elven magic, you supposed.

Sam would have gone absolutely mad over this back when we were still naïve little Shirefolk, you thought sadly. Not just having been in the presence of elves, but traveling with them, and tasting their potions…only the circumstances absolutely ruin it.

You felt your strength returning, and an internal warmth tingled through your bones. Your limbs moved with less stiffness, and your eyelids didn’t feel so heavy – the cold was by no means blocked out, but the worst of it seemed to have come to pass.

You lifted your head and looked around. Gandalf seemed to have overcome his aversion to fire, for one had been lit and was crackling merrily under the shelter of the cliff. The other hobbits were huddled around it; Merry was practically pouring the last of the elf cordial down Pippin’s throat (the youngest hobbit looked to be in barely a better state than you were). Frodo was curled up next to Boromir, who was constantly prodding the hobbit to ensure he was awake.

It was at this point you realized you were still seated on Sam’s lap, and an uncomfortable number of conflicting feelings struck you with such ferocity that it seemed more prudent to avoid them altogether, You made to crawl off of Sam’s lap and join everyone at the fire, but a firm grip on your wrist held you back.

“Wait.” There was a different note in Sam’s voice, one that made you turn quickly. “I want to know why you did that just now. Why would you put yourself at risk like that, refusing shelter and tryin’ to go off on your own? You could have easily died. Matter of fact, you almost did.”

This was it. Here came the conflict again – why are you here, Y/N, ruining our grand adventure? Maybe if you just laid it all out on him, he’d leave you be.

You inhaled, then let all the words on your mind out in one breath so nothing could be held back. “I don’t belong here, Samwise Gamgee. You of all people should see that, since you’re the one who tells me so often. I know I’m a burden, and I hate that you hate that I’m here. This whole quest would be better off without me, alright? You, Frodo, Pippin, Merry – you’re the important ones. You need to survive, so I gave you the shelter. It doesn’t matter if I die here. In fact, it would probably help you all along. So there you have it. Happy? Now if you don’t mind, I do prefer being alive at this time, so I’m going to try and get some warmth.” The rant left a nasty taste in your mouth, like you’d spit something toxic.

“It does matter.”

You didn’t want to hold your breath, to wait and see what followed, but you did anyway, because no matter what he had said, there was a reason you’d stole away from Crickhollow early that morning. There was a reason you’d chased Sam all the way through Middle Earth, up until now.

Sam took your hand in his. “It matters to me, Y/N. It matters because… because… well…” He stopped and looked away.

You were speechless. In all your time, Sam Gamgee was the poet. He always had pretty words to say. You’d never seen him at a loss for them.

When he turned back, that fiery look of resolution was back on his face. You almost didn’t have time to process it, because before you could blink, he was kissing you – a strong, passionate, romantic sort of kiss, one that would have had you weak at the knees if you weren’t already sitting on them. You once again found yourself frozen and unable to move, but this time it wasn’t cold or altogether unpleasant; in fact, a lovely, tingly sort of warmth was spreading through you. You summoned up all your willpower and threw your arms around Sam, kissing him back with as much intent as you could muster.

After some undefinable amount of time (you never knew how long that first kiss of yours was – only that there were many future ones), he finally pulled away, as pink in the cheeks as a frozen hobbit could be. “I hope that explains some things,” he said rather shyly. “I only wished you weren’t here because this quest could be the end of us all, and I want you alive and happy and safe. If I were to be the selfish sort, I’d have taken you with me from the beginning, if only so I could have your beauty and kindness to get me through the struggles of each day.”

You shivered, though the cold likely wasn’t the cause. There was the poet you’d fallen in love with – the strong soul who you knew would probably be the reason this quest succeeded, if the Fellowship could make it off this cursed mountain. “Well, you make the worst sort of liar, Samwise,” you said, but there was a smile on your face. “You had me fooled – though I suppose you’ve somewhat made up for it now.” In fact, you could barely suppress the giddy grin that was trying to stretch your frozen cheeks.

Sam laced his fingers through your cold ones. “Well, I suppose there’s no turning back now, so we might as well make the best of it. I suppose I can hardly complain now, with you as my companion...or sweetheart now, I suppose.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” you whispered, “I’ve always wanted to hear you say those words.” You squeezed his hand. “I came because I couldn’t stand to leave you, and I don’t plan to. Let’s go warm our bones before we freeze into a pair of hobbit-sicles.” You tugged him after you to the fire, which warmed everyone through the night.

Hope no longer seemed so far away.

#lotr #lotr imagine #samwise imagine #sam x reader #sam gamgee x reader #samwise x reader

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adamwatchesmovies · 1 month

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The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

It feels like every single fantasy film has been building up to The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. This sprawling world of myth and magic is a landmark achievement. The special effects, characters, art direction, score, scale and faithfulness to the source material make it the kind of picture that will shape generations. It’s big, wonderful and epic but also small, intimate and emotional. This is a labor of love and it shows.

In the Second Age of Middle-earth, the Dark Lord Sauron forged the One Ring. With its power, he was poised to conquer all. Defeated through sheer luck, his evil dissipated. 3,000 years later, the One Ring is discovered in the possession of a humble hobbit named Frodo Baggins (Elijah Wood). To save the world, from Sauron's return, the ring must be snuck back into the shadowy land of Mordor and thrown into the volcano where it was forged. On this quest, Frodo is accompanied by his friends Samwise Gamgee (Sean Astin), Pippin Took (Billy Boyd) and Merry Brandybuck (Dominic Monaghan), his mentor, the wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen), and representatives of the free races of Middle-Earth: humans Strider (Viggo Mortensen) and Boromir (Sea Bean), dwarf Gimli (John Rhys-Davies) and elf Legolas Greenleaf (Orlando Bloom).

To get us up to speed, the picture begins with a history lesson that’ll knock you off your feet. The armies clashing seem immeasurably large. Sauron effortlessly radiates evil despite having no dialogue. You can feel the thousands of years of culture in the fighting styles, weapons and scenery. Middle-Earth feels real. The scale is immense, which makes director Peter Jackson’s decision to focus the plot on an ordinary hobbit a genius move. In a story with caverns so large our civilization could never dream of carving them, elven cities that seem to grow from the trees that surround them, seamless towers of black stone and all sorts of monsters, it would be easy for audiences to feel alienated. We’d all like to think that when push comes to shove we’d be great heroes but in reality, there’s no way. The best a tiny person like you or me could hope to do is stay brave, which is exactly Frodo’s role.

Several times throughout, we hear that “Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.” There couldn’t be anyone smaller than Frodo Baggins - except, perhaps, his friend to the end, Samwise. The hobbits are humble little people who have lived peaceful, simple lives free from adventure and are now thrust into a journey that will be the stuff of legends. Their joys are simple: warm meals, fields of brightly-colored vegetables and parties with friends & family. One particular scene that shows you just how small they are comes towards the end of the story. Sam and Frodo are traveling down a river. In the distance, they spot these enormous statues, the kind that would make the Statue of Liberty blush. Like us, they gaze at them in wonder, wondering who could’ve built them and who they represent. None of the other members of the Fellowship seem to give them more than a passing glance - and yet, these simple people prove themselves just as brave and reliable as the seasoned guardians they are traveling with. It’s awe-inspiring in so many ways.

By focusing on Frodo and his part of the journey, the film has a strong emotional core. The Fellowship of the Ring knows it has this time-tested story that’ll enchant audiences but before doing anything else, it made sure to get the basics right. Even if it hadn’t, it would’ve been an impressive production. Surrounding the inspirational battle of good vs. evil are incredible visuals, standout special effects and exciting action scenes. The film contains elements of horror in the form of its shadowy Ring Wraiths and scenes set in the deep mines of Moria. It’s got comedy to lighten the mood when necessary, chases so perfectly paced they should be shown in film school and battles that remain exciting whether they feature millions or a handful of fighters. There are so many great lines and iconic scenes you’ll love to quote it to your friends. The score by Howard Shore is this powerhouse that immediately sets up residence in your mind.

Though it ends in a "to be continued", The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring is the kind of movie you need to watch just to be part of the cultural conversation. Don't worry if you're weary of following trends; you would fall in love with this film even if you discovered it on your own. (Theatrical version on Blu-ray, April 26, 2022)

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

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Part 3: The Heroine

The Lord of the Rings : Multishot

Samwise Gamgee x Reader

Word count: 6246

Warnings: ✋ some scraped hands. 🌳 falling out of a tree. 🌸 flower crowns. 🚬 smoking. 😢 jealous feelings. 💖 and small confessions.

Request: “Could I request a multishot with samwise gamgee x reader and sam has always had a crush on her, but on their journey he realizes she's even better than he imagined her to be (like when you stop crushing but actually fall in love)” @the-narnian-sea

A/N: I’ve skipped the Rivendell reunion and the council meeting

Part 2: The Herbalist

Part 3: The Heroine {You Are Here}

Part 4: The Griever

Thunk went an arrow. Thunk went another.

(Y/N) sat atop the railing of a stone balcony, one leg bent at the knee and another hanging over the edge. It swung back and forth lazily as she peered below.

Another thunk as an arrow sunk deep into the target.

It was the long haired beauty from Mirkwood stringing his bow. He drew his arm back and the tautness of the string could be heard against his fingers.

(Y/N) smirked, knowing full well the elf prince was aware of her presence though it resided a floor above him. She held an apple in one hand and a dagger in the other. She began cutting slices to eat.

The training yard belonged to the elves of Rivendell – the sanctuary the hobbits sought. It led to a number of skirmishes involving Frodo’s healing, the whereabouts of the missing Gandalf, and the tending to (Y/N)’s wounds. As well as what was to be done with the One Ring.

It led to the formation of a Fellowship. One (Y/N) spied upon from a distance. Though she couldn’t deny her part in it; once she saw her cousins and Sam join there was no question in whether she would join too.

But as beforementioned, she joined at a distance.

“Must you always be eagle eyeing?” Sam came around near her shoulder.

“Oh, come off it,” she giggled, “You’re one to talk – always staring after any elf that passes you by.”

He grumbled, “Can’t help it. They’re so tall and beautiful and wise and… tall.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind my staring now,” she bit a slice of apple and pondered the elf prince below.

Sam got closer, leaning against the railing, “How’s your wound?”

“Scarring quite nicely,” she munched, “Care to see?”

“That’s alright,” he said with rosiness, “Just glad you’re healed.”

“Better be with the journey we’re about to make.”

“So you’re going.” His voice was quiet and sounded conflicted, as in he knew he shouldn’t have a final say in her decision but wanted her to know.

(Y/N) offered a slice of her apple to Sam, “How could I not when people I love are going.” She ignored his downcast eyes, knowing his wish to object, “I don’t believe I shall interrupt much, I’ll keep to the trees when I can.”

Sam munched on his apple slice to fill the silence that followed. “How would we know you’re safe when you’re off the path?” At her shrug he interjected again, “It was awful hard not to worry about you while on the journey here. I can’t imagine how much harder that’ll be with the perils ahead.”

“You were always a bit of the protective type,” she smirked, eyeing his seriousness, “But I can hold my own. You think I haven’t had my fair share of perils in the Old Forest? Wolves and thieves and the like?”

“I won’t stop you,” he said admiringly, “You were always the bravest hobbit I ever knew.”

“But this won’t be the end of it,” she said with raised eyebrows, “You’ll be fretting like a mother hen, no doubt, for the remainder of the journey.”

Sam smiled, rosy as he said, “Can you blame me?” He tried to think of something quick, stumbling on his next words. “W-We need our inspired healer to take care of us. And Pippin will be a nightmare without all the woodland snacks you provide.”

She tossed around the core of her apple, “Aragorn knows a thing or two about medicinal herbs.”

“Not as well as you, I don’t believe it for a second.”

She smiled again, “I could teach you a thing or two about healing.” She pocketed her small dagger, “I mean, in the event I’m incapacitated and unable to be of service, we’ll need some others who can help.”

Sam eyed the spot on her abdomen that was once open and bleeding. “Might be for the best.”

“Brilliant,” she mused, peering down at the training yard, “Oh, it looks like our elven prince has been joined by a rival.”

Indeed, below on the grassy plain of land, another familiar face joining the fellowship was sharpening his axe. The dwarf Gimli was huffing about his business, apparently trying to annoy the elf concentrating on his archery.

“Easy to hit the target when only thirty feet away,” he grumbled, “I do believe we’ll be attacking the enemy on much looser footing, and it won’t be with a standstill bullseye.”

Legolas had his bow strung and pulled back, but he hesitated to fire until the dwarf was finished. He sent the arrow straight down the middle of a previous stuck in the target. The wooden shaft splintered under the force.

“If you care to see my skill amongst moving targets, perhaps you should take a lap around the yard.”

Gimli scoffed, unhappy with the retort, “Is that a threat?”

An apple core came sailing into the yard, knocking the top of Gimli’s braided head. The arguing pair swerved their eyes for the archways built above them.

(Y/N) was giggling, “You’re not meant to kill each other before our journey even begins.”

Gimli seemed at a loss for words, flabbergasted at her interruption, but Legolas observed her with a straight back and lowered brows.

“The mysterious fifth hobbit,” he nodded his head, “I’ve heard reports of your apparent skill.”

She nodded in return, standing on the railing she was sitting upon. Sam lifted his hands to her, afraid she might fall.

“Reports from whom, my friend?”

“Lord Aragorn,” the elf replied, “He seemed impressed with what he saw in the short time you’ve been together.”

(Y/N) smiled before beginning to descend down the chiseled walls of the training yard.

“(Y/N)!” Sam called out, “What are you doing?”

She laughed, sliding down the stone pillars as easily as if it were the bark of a tree. “Sam, be a dear and toss me my staff.”

He hesitated, perhaps ensuring that she hadn’t twist an ankle before doing as she asked. She caught her wooden staff easily, running her fingers along the many bite marks and scratches imbedded into the old wood.

“I suppose you think yourself clever,” Gimli called out, his Scottish tone thick. “Scaling stone walls and the like.”

“I think myself an experienced forester,” she bowed to the dwarf, “The woodlands are my specialty.”

“Which won’t be much help with the lack of forests along our route,” he continued, smirking, “And that flimsy tree branch is supposed to protect you?”

She shrugged, spinning the staff in her hand, “It has in the past.” She considered the dwarf with a respectful eye, “I’ve heard tell of your father Master Gloin.”

“Have you?” Gimli seemed taken aback, lowering the axe he was beginning to brandish.

“Sure, I’ve visited the Blue Mountains on occasion of my travels along the Free Lands. Your father was one of the few I’ve met. Magnificent refuge is the Blue Mountains and an even more magnificent people.”

Gimli lessened his frown, his bushy brows raising, “The Blue Mountains was my place of birth.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “But I believe you’ve returned to Erebor since then. How is the kingdom under the mountain? Master Gloin has told me of the riches there. Not just in treasure but in good food and in good company. Perhaps we could share a pint and discuss it more over dinner.”

Gimli was quiet for a moment before his chest began to shake with laughter, “Had my father chosen to stay after the council I would’ve asked him to dine with us.” His laughs were positively booming then, “I did not expect the young hobbit lass to be so knowledgeable of the world.”

“We all have our shortcomings, Master Dwarf,” she winked. “Many of us are plagued with quick judgements.”

Gimli pointed a finger towards her and gave another gruff laugh, “We have more to learn of you yet.”

“I would say I have much more to learn of you,” (Y/N) continued, “Though I do wield a staff, I haven’t been formally trained in the art.”

“It’s true the dwarves have skill in staff weaponry,” Gimli was now leaning against his axe, contemplating, “But we normally use iron staffs – wood is much lighter. Perhaps we could talk to the smithery about that.”

Legolas saw fit to interject, “The smiths here are most apt in embedding strength and protective magic into their work. Your staff would much look the same but have capabilities far beyond a regular branch.”

(Y/N) bowed her head again, “I would appreciate the help.”

“Well, then,” Gimli yelled, grasping his axe with two hands now, “Let’s see where your starting skill is, and we’ll work from there.”

(Y/N) brandished her staff, pointing it towards the dwarf, “Gladly.”

“Cocky one, isn’t she?” Gimli laughed, circling the training yard, “We’ll make a warrior out of you yet.”

Legolas cracked a smile as he laid his bow against the wall and moved to observe the combat. He folded his arms, waiting to offer advice when appropriate.

And Sam remained above, watching the whole interaction with apprehension. He found his grip on the stone railing tight as she approached the strangers. But it was lax now as he marveled at the way she dispersed the coming argument with friendship.

She was unreal. Unattainable. A faraway story you told the children before bed.

~~~

The elven dining hall was immaculate. The rich autumn colors of Rivendell painted a warm seating arrangement among the cast of characters.

The trees were shimmering orange and yellow beneath the setting sun. The hall was wide and open with no windows, just stone pillars holding a ceiling aloft. Delicate silver and gold vines were designed around each column, metal plated flowers and leaves welded there.

(Y/N) was enjoying the beauty at her own end table near the balcony. Beside her was a dazzling stone and marble fountain spitting water into a crystal bowl.

Behind her was Gimli entertaining her rambunctious cousins with ale-addled stories from under the mountain. Frodo sat with Lord Elrond and Master Gandalf, no doubt discussing the coming journey of the Ring. Legolas was bowed with Aragorn and talking rapidly in hushed elvish.

She barely noticed the hulking figure of Boromir approaching until he pulled out a chair beside her.

“May I?”

She turned her head quick with the reflexes of a forest rabbit. She stared at him wide before nodding dimly, “Of course.”

The warrior smiled and took a seat, “I wanted to introduce myself before our departure tomorrow.”

(Y/N) only nodded, still assessing his intentions.

“I hail from Gondor. My father is the steward there. My brother and I assist in protecting the realm and surrounding lands.”

“I know of the pale city and the white tree presiding over it.”

“Do you?” Boromir raised his brows, “I’ve been warned that of the fair folk you are the one most informed of the world.”

She shrugged one shoulder, “I grow tired of doing nothing.”

“I’ve heard tell of the free lands cherishing the peace and quiet.”

“They cherish ignorance and laziness more likely.”

Boromir huffed a laugh, “Are you so quick to judge your own people?”

“I can be proud of my race and still be disappointed in the things they do.” She picked through a salad with oil and vinegar. “I’m sure your people have done things you’re not overly proud of.”

“Naturally that comes with being,” he said, intrigued by her wise words, “We’re all flawed.”

“That’s easy to say, but hard to admit.”

Boromir continued to laugh, “Are you saying I can’t admit when I’m the one flawed?”

“It’s easy to say hobbits can be wrong, but more difficult to say I have been wrong.”

“I suppose I fall in that boat more often than I care to say,” Boromir folded his arms, “I look forward to this journey.”

(Y/N) smiled, “Well, don’t worry, I don’t plan on being seen much.”

“Your meaning?”

“I’ll be keeping my distance. Just enough to be in sights but never a bother.”

“I see,” Boromir said a bit dully, “I would appreciate your charm amongst the rest of the fleas.”

She laughed, “I’d hardly call my cousins fleas. Little squirrels maybe – stealing your things and running for the nearest hiding place.”

“You’ll be saying differently when they’ve become rough and tumbled like the rest of us,” he grimaced, “You wouldn’t believe the things that crawl across a man’s skin after not bathing for…”

(Y/N) held up her hands, “Alright, thank you – that’s enough.” She giggled, “I don’t need to imagine more horrors about what men involve themselves with.”

Boromir offered his hand with a smooth smile, “Miss. (Y/N)…”

She gave her hand freely, no longer so apprehensive as she was minutes before. “Yes.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” he held her hand delicately, drawing it to his lips, “You have my protection should you have need of it.”

She bowed her head, hiding the heat blossoming in her cheeks. “Give my regards to the rest of the fellowship.”

Boromir rose and departed for the main dining table hosting the rest of the guests. (Y/N) watched him go with a slight wondering shake of her head. After over a week in Rivendell she managed to pledge herself to a fellowship and somehow befriend all of them in one way or another.

Sidestepping into her line of vision was Samwise, following her gaze to the back of Boromir and to her still outstretched hand.

“He’s friendly.”

“Sam!” she smiled at him, trying to rub the pink out of her cheeks from her encounter with Boromir. “Enjoying dinner? Their smoked squash and mushrooms is particularly good.”

Sam, though usually one timid to make eye contact with her too long, wasn’t allowing the fear to creep in as his mind wandered. He seemed uneasy as he chose the seat beside her.

“You’ve been sitting here all evening.”

“I enjoy the solitude.”

“But I can imagine it gets lonely,” Sam inquired, hands fumbling in his lap.

(Y/N) sighed, “I have many friends. The trees, the rivers, the animals. I can’t be so lonely with all that company.”

“But you can’t tell me it’s the same as the company of people.”

“I’ve heard you converse with plants well enough,” she teased, “You can’t tell me you don’t find company amongst the gardens.”

Sam finally cracked a smile, “You have me there.” He still picked at his fingers, “I still don’t think you should isolate yourself this entire journey.”

“Are you still going on about me venturing off the path?”

“You know I can’t help but worry,” he tried to smile past the grumbling look (Y/N) started giving him. “Perhaps making friends with the fellowship will have you changing your mind. The man from Gondor seemed interested enough.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, “Boromir may prove a favorable companion.”

“Favorable companion,” Sam repeated under his breath. “And the elf prince?”

“Hilarious in a cryptic, one-liner kind of way.”

“The Master Dwarf?”

She snorted, “Gimli is stubborn and already fiercely loyal all in the best of ways.”

“Aragorn?”

“Handsome.”

Sam snapped his head up so fast his curls bounced, “I’m sorry?”

(Y/N) shrugged, unabashed, “In a rugged stranger kind of way.”

“Maybe you should stay closer to the tree line,” Sam said comically to hide the jealous fear growing inside of him, “Keep you from these rugged strangers.”

She laughed, “Realizing your competition, are you?” She laughed even harder at his terrified expression, “I’m only joking, Sam.”

That only seemed to send his heart pounding even further, “You’re always sending me on the verge of a heart attack.”

“I hadn’t realized I was wrapped so tightly around it.” Her smile was mischievous, but there was that familiar tug in her own heart. That strange little seed that Sam had planted weeks or maybe even months before. It’s tiny roots were beginning to thread into the beats of her chest. They pulled on her as the mischievousness melted into something a bit more hopeful.

Less teasing and more flirting.

Sam, a mighty cherry blossom tree sprouted in his heart, knew that every root, branch, and leaf had grown for her. It had yet to flower and bloom into something truly magnificent, but he knew if he cared for it long enough it would. At least he hoped it would.

It twisted taller and fuller in his chest as (Y/N) looked at him then.

“You…” he swallowed thickly, “You’ve always had a part of my heart, (Y/N). Since we were kids.”

She smiled warmly, “Was it me stealing you away for adventures or was it me teaching you elvish in the East Farthing?”

Sam attempted to drown out the blood in his ears with his voice, but it came out in more of whisper, much to his disdain. “It was just you. You were always like one of those heroines from the stories Bilbo used to tell us. And when you left for your travels you became a storybook character. Tales of your adventures painted you like this beautiful tracker of the woods, befriending the people of Middle Earth and protecting us from invaders.”

(Y/N) slid a hand under her chin, listening to him ramble. The more he talked it seemed his confidence grew.

“And whenever you came back to visit the Shire it was like one of my heroes coming to life,” he felt like he was free falling, terrifyingly close to splattering on the ground. “You always seemed so impossible, too good to be true. When we were kids you were the kindhearted hobbit from next door that always managed to cause a little trouble. Then you were this brave, audacious traveler that didn’t mind being the outcast. And now for the first time…”

(Y/N) leaned in a bit further, the seedling in her heart reaching little green leaves into her chest, “What?”

“It’s like I’m meeting you for the first time.” His face was bright and warm and at her mercy, “I’m seeing the inspiration behind the heroine. She’s still kindhearted, still brave, still audacious, and still able to cause trouble. But she’s real. She has passions and dreams and a family who loves her and a life she’s made her own. I just never realized…” He hesitated, “I made you into a story when you’re right in front of me.”

He gave a nervous laugh at (Y/N)’s wide eyes. She was trying to hide her smile, sucking in her lips to nibble on them as he talked.

“I knew you thought highly of my bravery,” she said animatedly, “But I never knew you thought me imaginary.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he smacked a hand over his eyes but smiled regardless. “You’re always lightening the mood, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) said quietly, pure sunlight in her chest giving her seedling a growth spurt.

Sam tugged at his buttoned vest, his mind a repeating loop of the words he almost said but hesitated enough to divert. If the journey had shown him anything so far, it was that he never realized the difference between having feelings for (Y/N) and actually falling in love with her.

~~~

The woods were becoming sparse as they traveled south, closer to the mountains on their way to Caradhras. (Y/N) cherished each step she could take beneath the trees; she knew the majority of the journey wouldn’t fall on forest paths.

She whistled to the birds and hummed with the bees, fingers splayed out to the sunlight. The damp leaves and brown moss wriggled between her toes, reminding her of the rich soil of the Shire. The smell of fresh dirt and warm plants, irrigated with crisp rainwater.

She bowed to gather flowers in her nimble fingers, smiling at the thought of Shire gardens and meadows.

The fellowship wasn’t far ahead, paving the way for her to follow. It was easy to track their low toned voices through the thinning trees.

In an effort to occupy the hours and ignore the growing ache in her legs, (Y/N) began peeling sprouts and flower stems. She tied the green together, accentuating the flower buds, little colorful bundles of popcorn.

When flowers broke from the stem threads, she tucked them into her hair, fitting snugly between the coils of her boisterous hobbit hair. She was soon surrounded by lovely smelling colors.

By the time she caught up to the fellowship, the sun was getting low, and she had a collection of flower crowns and necklaces around her wrists.

“Here is our ghost of the wood,” Merry cried out, digging into his smoking pipe, “Our spirit of the trees.”

“Has the spirit come bearing gifts?” Pippin asked hopefully, fingers digging into his stomach.

(Y/N) giggled, “The ground is becoming too rocky as we get closer to the mountains. Root vegetables can’t thrive here.”

“Fruit trees?”

“Too cold.”

Pippin pouted, “Berry bushes?”

(Y/N) shook her head, holding out her arms, “No, but there were plenty of flowers.”

The young hobbit seemed to consider it for a second, as if he was truly so hungry he’d eat anything.

“You were always able to craft such wonderful trinkets,” Frodo said admiringly, matching his cousins stride.

“Then you get the prettiest one,” she said happily, placing a crown of threaded green and white flowers upon his dark curls.

He wore them with pride, giving her a one armed hug. She smiled in return, placing a crown of blue flowers on Merry’s head and one of yellow on Pippin’s. The latter seemed remarkably cheered up by the gift, Merry merely shrugged and sighed.

“What is this?” Gimli grumbled, “Decorating your hairs with forest debris?”

“You may choose to adorn your braids with gold and silver,” (Y/N) laughed, “But the fair folk have always enjoyed the simple pleasantries of the earth.” She addressed the dwarf with a bundle of pale flowers, “It’s lighter than rock and smells better than mine alloy.”

Gimli seemed apprehensive as the hobbit girl wove the flowers into his crisscrossed beard. He was putting on a scowl for the effect, but his cheeks were rosy with affection as he mumbled, “You’re a fine lass, (Y/N).”

She gave a single nod, spotting other companions eyeing their movements. “Care for a relic of the forest?”

They continued walking but Legolas slowed to reach her stance. He was silent as he held out his hand, accepting a rope of white buds and tying it elegantly around his bow.

(Y/N) was biting her lip to keep herself from smiling too wide. She turned to spot her last hobbit companion, her chest full of sunshine at seeing his face.

“Hello,” he said quietly, “Did you tumble in a meadow? Your hair is full of flowers.”

She came alongside Bill the pony and pat his neck, earning a low bray of sentiment. “I didn’t want any to go to waste.” She ignored his staring as she approached him to place a crown of pink and speckled white upon his curls.

He turned red.

“I knew it,” she smiled wide, “They’d match your cheeks.” She continued to laugh as he spluttered.

“So very cruel,” he mumbled, heat flooding his face. “How do you do that?”

She placed a pink bundle behind his pointed ear and hummed excitedly, “Do what?”

“Warm my face just by looking at me.”

She twirled a few lone flowers between two fingers, walking alongside him, “I don’t try to on purpose.”

“I just have to figure out how to do the same to you.” He pulled on Bill, frustrated at his hot face and rashly spoken thoughts.

(Y/N) organized her wildflowers into a neat bouquet, long grasses and green leaves tying them together. “I may not get red in the face,” she smiled, “But you certainly have done something similar to me.”

Sam snapped his eyes to hers, “I have?”

Dare she say he sounded hopeful. “There’s a warmth in my heart when I see you,” she shoved his shoulder, “You are one of my dearest companions.” Before she let herself interpret his reaction, she held out the wildflowers, “For you…”

He clamped his mouth shut as he accepted the beautiful gift.

“Since you miss your gardens.”

He was at a loss as she bounded happily toward her cousins. Merry had lit his smoking pipe and Pippin was holding one of his yellow flowers, picking away at the petals.

“I am hungry. I’m not hungry. I am hungry. I’m not hungry.” He plucked a final petal, “I am hungry.”

“The plant has spoken,” (Y/N) said, wrapping her arms around her cousins, “I think we should start making camp.”

“Yes,” Gandalf called ahead, “Dearest (Y/N). We’ve reached the pass for the mountain trail. By tomorrow afternoon we’ll enter freezing temperatures as we near higher elevation.” The wizard stopped the fellowship, “It would be for the best to rest here tonight before beginning that laborious part of our journey.”

“As if the road before wasn’t perilous enough,” Merry said sardonically, “Let’s add snowy mountains.”

(Y/N) shifted her pack, “Oh, it’s all part of the fun.”

Boromir chuckled where he stood gripping his strong sword, “That’s good. We’ll need an optimist where we’re going.”

She sent him a wink that was matched with one of his own. And camp was made that night stiffly as they dwelled on the windswept trails ahead of them. There would be no forest floors or wooden paths, only rocky cliffs and the bitter cold.

(Y/N) chose to sit beside Sam, brushing knees as the firelight dimmed. There was that strange tug between the pair of them – (Y/N)’s heart of growing sprouts turning towards him like a sunflower to the sun.

“Where are the other younglings?” Boromir grunted, sitting himself next to Aragorn.

Frodo received a bowl of makeshift stew from their resident wizard, “They’ve gone to find more kindling.”

“Begrudgingly, I might add,” (Y/N) smiled faintly. “I think their resolve is still stuck in the Shire. It’ll take a few more weeks for them to face reality.”

Gimli was stoking his pipe, “Care for some?” He offered a tin towards Sam, who accepted it gratefully. “At this rate we’ll be out of pipe weed before crossing the Misty Mountains.”

“We ran out of Old Toby about a week ago,” Sam chuckled, “Hobbits could rival any man in their smoking habits.”

The dwarf laughed heartily, taking a draw from his smoking pipe, “My kind of people. Good food, rich ale, and quality pipe weed.”

Sam held his pipe up to salute him, lighting the end of it and puffing a few times. The air surrounding them became hazy with more than just campfire smoke. Gimli settled against the rocky ridge blocking the incoming wind and (Y/N) leaned into Sam.

“Mind if I have a go?”

Gimli barked a laugh, speaking out of the side of his mouth, “This is no ordinary pipe weed, lass. Women are too delicate for the herb.”

(Y/N) smiled roguishly, sneaking the pipe from her friend. She licked her lips and drew a breath so deep the end glowed with infinite embers of orange light. Sam raised his eyebrows, not daring to complain that she was burning through their precious store of weed.

She finally pulled the pipe away, closing her eyes and leaning back. There was so much smoke in her lungs that it was slipping out of her nose involuntarily.

Gimli blinked a few times, mouth agape and pipe hanging limp from his lips.

After a few seconds (Y/N) finally blew out a slow breath, smoke plumed around her head and masked her easy smile. “I haven’t had anything to smoke in ages.”

Sam received his pipe once again with a wonderous shake of his head, “You’d never know.”

“A mere dabbler in the art,” Gimli said gruffly, squaring his shoulders and taking a draw from his pipe to match (Y/N)’s. Almost instantly the dwarf began choking, coughing on the smoke and making his eyes water.

Boromir laughed loudly, shoving Aragorn over in his delight. Sam bit his pipe as (Y/N) hid her face in his shoulder.

“Looks like you could use a few pointers,” Boromir coughed on his laughs.

“(Y/N)!” The voice of Merry came from the sparse woods surrounding them, “Could you give us a hand, please?”

(Y/N) stood from the ground, fixing her sage green trousers, “If you would excuse me, my cousins have found themselves desperate for my assistance – as per usual.”

The rest of the fellowship continued to chuckle as she padded around the bedrolls and campfire. Sam could see the looks of endearment on all their faces. (Y/N) could win the hearts of any person within a fortnight, it would seem.

He held his pipe and couldn’t help but feel his own heart beat out of proportion. He didn’t want to be just another face of endearment from the fellowship. He wanted to be seen above that – be something more than that.

His smile started to dip into a jealous frown.

On the outskirts of their camp was (Y/N) and Merry standing at the base of a tree, hands on their hips. Pippin was dangling from a branch above them.

“And you can’t pull yourself up?”

“The branch is going to break!” Pippin groaned.

“And what? You expect me to catch you?” (Y/N) snickered, “Why didn’t you call for one of the men?”

Merry shoved his cousin, “You get us out of trouble all the time. Can’t you do something?”

She sighed, shoving him even harder – to the point he tripped backwards. “Give me a second.” She started climbing the tree trunk, “Merry, be under him just in case. Pip, can you wrap your legs around the branch?”

Pippin swung his legs up, so he was bear hugging the branch. It wavered dangerously, creaking and cracking a fraction more.

“Can you crawl over until you’re on top?” she was already straddling the same branch closer to the trunk where it wasn’t cracked yet. “Then reach for my hands.”

Pippin shimmied up the branch, holding on for his dear life and ignoring the snide remarks coming from Merry below. He outstretched a hand, grappling for her own. She stabilized him as he scooted for the safe end of the branch.

It creaked and snapped under his weight.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” (Y/N) said, pulling on her cousin, “It’s going to…”

Pippin lunged for her, ramming into the trunk and knocking (Y/N) off balance. She cried out as she fell, clutching at anything her hands could find purchase on. The branch snapped completely, nearly collapsing on Merry.

“Damn it all,” she cried out, one hand sliding down the jagged edge of the broken branch and the other digging into the rough bark.

“(Y/N)!” Pippin called out, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” He grabbed fistfuls of her shirt and tunic and pulled her to him.

She grimaced as the pair of them descended the tree trunk, “It’s all right, Pip – I’m all right.” She uncurled her burning hands and saw the lines of bleeding, scraped skin where the broken branch sliced her palm.

“Oh, curse me,” he replied, lightly holding her hands, “That looks like it hurts.”

“A little,” she swallowed, “It’s not your fault, Pip. Let’s get back to camp. I have bandages and herbs there.”

Merry was brushing leaves and twigs from his cloak, “I am unscathed, thank goodness.” He grimaced, “That looks like it hurts.”

(Y/N) gave a short smile, “I always underestimate how much trouble the pair of you are.”

They escorted her back to the camp, the rest of the fellowship settling down for the night. Gandalf was extinguishing his own pipe when he spotted the limping trio.

“What has happened?”

As if the question signaled an incoming siege, the other company members snapped their heads around, looking for the bad news. (Y/N) hushed her cousins before they could speak.

“A little mishap with the kindling.”

“Are you all right?” came Frodo’s voice, standing from his bedroll. Pippin was looking flushed and embarrassed.

She waved him off with her less injured hand, “Fine, fine. Just got snagged on the bark.” She placed a comforting touch to Pippin’s shoulder, “Nothing is amiss.”

“Leave them be,” Gandalf said, winking at (Y/N) before lowering his hat to cover his eyes, “Lets not fret over the little things when much greater lie before us.”

She gave a playful nudge to Merry and Pippin, the latter giving her a remorseful look and another quiet apology.

“Is that true?” Sam whispered to her as she sat on her bedroll, “Is something amiss?”

She grabbed her side satchel full of her medicinal herbs, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh,” he winced, spotting the cuts along her palm, “Why feel the need to lie?”

“I haven’t,” she practically gasped at his accusation, “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Clearly,” he said, a slight grumble in his tone. The aching, jealous part of him was growing. “You don’t have to hide things from me, you know. I don’t understand this need of yours to keep everyone at arm’s length.”

Her face fell, voice lowering to just above a whisper, “Don’t you?”

He sighed heavy and frustrated. Yes, he did understand. You don’t spend your entire childhood idolizing a girl without trying to figure her out. She had always been different and different wasn’t a sought trait in the Shire.

She had learned to keep things to herself.

“Let me help,” he inched closer to her.

“I’ve got it.”

“Don’t you dare…” he said warningly, “… send me away.” He grabbed her hand gently, “You can’t bandage this with only one good hand, and you promised to teach me some healing techniques.”

She was looking at him with wide eyes and an open heart, “I’m sorry.”

“What do I need?” he asked, poking around her supplies.

She sniffed, “That jar of honey. It’s a miracle worker at healing injuries and keeping out infection. Just spread a little bit and wrap it with the linen roll.”

Sam opened the small jar and extracted the little spoon tied to the lid. He laid her open hand on his knee, scooping a spoonful of honey. It fell thick and golden against the bleeding scrapes on her palm.

“I’m surprised Pippin hasn’t sniffed this out of your bag yet.”

She smiled, though there was still a hint of tension between them. “He’d eat all the plants in my bag if he knew they were edible.”

“I apologize for snapping at you.”

“I hadn’t realized you could be so commanding, Sam. I must’ve pushed a few too many buttons.”

He finally smiled in return, “I just… I thought we were getting closer. Maybe I was just hoping.” He focused his attention on the linen he was wrapping around her sticky sweet hand.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

He flickered his gaze to hers, “You wouldn’t mind my intentions?”

“I can’t imagine they’d be malicious,” she swallowed hard, chest tickled with new seedlings. “What are your intentions?”

“To…” he tied off the bandage, running a finger along the fraying edges. “… earn your affections.”

(Y/N) froze, face painted pale with the dying embers of the fire. “I see.”

He retracted his hand, clearing his throat, “I realize nothing will happen until I’ve spoken plain. We’ve been dancing around it for years now and I thought… well…” he scratched the base of his neck, pulling at his collar.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, “I’ve been questioning these new sentiments I feel towards you.”

Sam widened his gaze, full and vulnerable under her words.

“Perhaps they should be explored,” she said, her face beginning to feel warm.

He smiled wide, pointing a finger at her cheeks. “You’re turning pink.” Her hands flew to her face. “Positively red.”

She coughed a laugh, “Now you’ve done it.” She hid her face with her hands, “All it took was speaking from the heart.”

He removed her hands, holding them in his, “I know it’s unconventional to propose courtship while in our current situation.” He listened to his heart pounding in his ears, “But I’m not sure I’ll survive another day pretending not to feel these things for you.”

“Yes, it’s unusual,” she smiled, “But not unwelcome.” She settled against her bedroll, holding Sam’s hand tightly, “I’m glad you told me.”

“And your answer is?”

She thought for a moment, “Lets not be hasty. We don’t know what this journey will bring, and I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.” She could almost feel his heart sink, “But… as soon as we’re home… I’m all yours.”

His mouth fell open, unable to make a sound. She tried not to look at him to embarrass him further. She squeezed his hand instead, pulling him to lay on his own bedroll.

“Tell me a story of home.”

Sam cleared his throat, having to force his eyes to stare at the night sky instead of her serenely pink face.

“There was a time, back in younger days, when a little hobbit found himself stuck tending to gardens beneath his displeased father. His only hope of rescue was in the heroine of the hills. She sailed across sheep herds and tickled sleeping beasts with river reeds. She was fearless and charitable to all. And once on a beautiful cloudless day, she took pity on the young gardener. She dragged him out of the weeds and showed him the wonders of the world. And his heart never beat quite the same after that.”

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @kaqua @cameleonfrenzy @cephalo-bot @honimello @simplyfandomish @brokennerdalert @ineedtogetoutofhere

#samwise gamgee x reader #samwise gamgee x y/n #samwise gamgee x you #samwise imagine #Samwise The Brave #samwise x reader #samwise gamgee #sam gamgee #samwise #The Lord of the Rings #lord of the rings #lord of the rings sam #lord of the rings samwise #fellowship of the ring #the fellowship of the ring

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birdylion · 1 year

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Already the Ring tempted him, gnawing at his will and reason. [...] In that hour of trial it was the love of his master that helped most to hold him firm; but also deep down in him lived still unconquered his plain hobbit-sense: he knew in the core of his heart that he was not large enough to bear such a burden, even if such visions were not a mere cheat to betray him. The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.

I love Samwise Gamgee so much. Overcoming the temptation of the ring (which grows stronger as they get near Mordor) through love: for Frodo, for the Shire. The ring only knows to tempt people with grandeur, with how great they could become. But that's not what Sam wants, so the temptation is there, and it's strong because the ring is so strong, but it cannot reach him because he knows what's important.

#there's a lot of catholicism this #but like the good parts #samwise gamgee #lotr newsletter #lotr

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edgecastlema · 1 year

Note

Who’s most wanted ?

so glad you asked ! below the read more (it got prettyyyy long) is a list of the admin team's most wanted characters. members, feel free to reply with who you would love to see around here ! <3

lydia, jane, lizzie, and kitty bennet, fitzwilliam darcy, charles bingley (pride and prejudice)

johanna mason, annie cresta, haymitch abernathy (the hunger games)

stever rogers, natasha romanoff, bucky barnes, sam willson, pietro maximoff, matt murdock, luke cage, scott summers, jean grey, felicia hardy, reed richards, laura kinney, and kate bishop (marvel multiverse)

bilbo baggins, frodo baggins, samwise gamgee, aragorn, peregrin took, meriadoc brandybuck, thorin oakenshield (the tolkienverse)

percy jackson, annabeth chase, piper mcclean, jason grace, thalia grace, ethan nakamura, grover underwood, selena beauregard, rachel elizabeth dare, clarisse la rue, leo valdez, hazel levesque, frank zhang, reyna avila ramirez-arellano, carter and sadie kane, zia rashid (riordanverse)

sansa, arya, robb, and brandon stark, jon snow, gendry waters, davos seaworth, theon greyjoy, samwell tarly, margaery and loris tyrell, rhaenyra, daemon, aemond, helaena targaryen, laena, corlys, jacaerys, laenor valeryon, harwin strong (a song of ice and fire universe)

romeo montague, juliet capulet, mercutio, benvolio, paris, and rosaline (romeo and juliet)

the baudelaire orphans, the denoument triplets, the snickets, beatrice, esme squalor, and montgomery montgomery (a series of unfortunate events)

lorelai gilmore, rory gilmore, dean forrester, jess mariano, luke danes, paris geller, logan huntzberger, and lane kim (gilmore girls)

the core four (sam, tara, chad, and mindy), sidney prescott, gale weathers, randy meeks, dewey riley, kirby reed, and jill roberts (scream franchise)

zion miller, georgia miller, ginny miller, marcus baker, maxine baker, and abby littman (ginny and georgia)

sienna shaw (terrifier 2)

sally hardesty and vanita "stretch" brock (texas chainsaw franchise)

clear rivers, alex browning, wendy christensen, the ashleys, and erin ulmer (final destination franchise)

pete "the plug" conlan, ricky matsui, misty moore, kingston brown, adaine abernant, gorgug thistlespring, fabian seacaster, ragh barkrock, riz gukgak, delloso de la rue, ayda aguefort, the lords of the wing, evan kelmp, whitney jammer, sam butler, xXBrokenDreamXx, cody walsh, jet rocks, ruby rocks, amethar rocks, and theobald gumbar (dimension 20)

chris redfield, claire redfield, jill valentine, leon s kennedy, jake muller, sherry birkin, carlos oliveira, and ashley graham (resident evil)

#scream rp #got rp #pjo rp #lotr rp #dimension 20 rp #resident evil rp #mw

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ahobbitstale · 4 years

Photo

Good Morning Hill by Ted Nasmith for the 2010 Tolkien Calendar and Diary.

#the shire #tolkien #ted nasmith #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #samwise gamgee #pippin took #merry brandybuck #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #lotr #art #painting #cottage core

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frodo-with-glasses · 2 years

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More Reading Thoughts: Mount Doom

…

So I wrote my usual bullet-point style of reaction to this chapter, but tumblr ate it, so I’m sitting here right now considering whether I really want to go back point by point and rewrite it all or not.

I kind of don’t want to. Just reading this chapter once is exhausting. You can feel the weariness of the hobbits seeping off the page and into your bones. That’s a tribute to Tolkien’s writing, of course, but it doesn’t make it any less harrowing. This chapter is beautifully written, and I hate it to my core.

Every little thing hurts. Sam thinking of Rosie Cotton hurts. Frodo’s ever-shrinking voice hurts. Sam throwing his pans down a ravine hurts. Frodo sleeping like Gollum, and waving away hallucinations, and crawling on his hands and knees hurts. The thought of home, of water, of literally anything else other than this wretched, hateful, god-forsaken wreck of land just hurts.

And yet—just like Sam’s star peeping through the clouds in the last chapter—there are tiny pricks of light.

Frodo and Sam show remarkable, almost impossible courage, even as their hope whittles away to nothing. Sam looks death in the face, and it actually makes him braver. When you’ve got nothing left to lose—and you can either succeed and die, or fail and die—you might as well go balls to the wall and make your last breath count. Frodo toils forwards with the last remaining sense in his head—not hoping, barely thinking, just moving forward until he collapses—and that’s courage enough, in its own way, too.

Their loyalty to one another remains solid and unwavering. Sam sacrifices and sacrifices and sacrifices again for Frodo; and when Frodo is cognizant enough to realize it, he whispers his thanks through a parched mouth, and you get the sense that he’d say so much more if he only could.

It’s the small gestures. It’s when Sam kisses Frodo’s hands, and wakes him gently, and carries him on his back. It’s when Frodo trusts Sam, leans on him, asks him for help in his weakness, and is not turned away. It’s the way they keep putting one foot in front of the other, even with no idea where they’re going—and the way the path opens up ahead of them.

The darkness in this chapter is the despair and futility of it all.

And love is light.

Words are sparse in this chapter. The dialogue is few and far between. But every word said packs a punch; now that speech is wearisome, they have to be economical with their words, and say only what’s worth being said.

“I can manage it. I must.”

“Come, Mr. Frodo! I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you, and it as well.”

“Thank you, Sam. How far is there to go?” “I don’t know, because I don’t know where we’re going.”

“I have come. But I do not choose now to do what I came to do. I will not do this deed. The Ring is mine!”

“Well, this is the end, Sam Gamgee.”

And of course I could talk about the spectacle of Mount Doom erupting, and the battlements of Mordor coming crashing down, and the Nazgûl burning up like meteors in the lightning storm. I could talk about Sam’s vision of a figure clothed in white, and a talking ring of fire. I could talk about the slow, hateful night, and the worse waking, and the arduous journey to get here.

But you know what? In a strange way…I don’t care. It’s done. It’s over. The hobbits can’t go back, and I don’t want to. We got here, in the end, and that’s enough.

Frodo is smiling again. And, suddenly—fittingly, almost—nothing else matters to me any more.

And there was Frodo, pale and worn, and yet himself again; and in his eyes there was peace now, neither strain of will, nor madness, nor any fear. His burden was taken away. There was the dear master of the sweet days of the Shire.

‘Master!’ cried Sam, and fell upon his knees. In all that ruin of the world for the moment he felt only joy, great joy. The burden was gone. His master has been saved; he was himself again, he was free.

‘…I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.’

#frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #assorted thoughts

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emeraldskulblaka · 2 years

Text

"Wonder" - Lyrics and Dialogue as performed in the LotR Musical

In the West End version of The Lord of the Rings, “Wonder” is situated right before the Final Battle at the Black Gate as Frodo and Sam continue their journey to Mount Doom and the Army of Allies prepares for war (see photo above).

The Original London Cast Recording is missing some verses contained in the stage version, adding others stemming from Toronto instead. The lyrics were a little different in Toronto, as was the context - “Wonder” was part of the Lothlórien sequence. Click “keep reading” for the lyrics; for the general context of the song, see here.

In case this looks familiar to you, yes, I've posted this before. However, I deleted my side blog and with it the "keep reading" part.

Toronto

After his conversation with GALADRIEL, FRODO sleeps, as do the rest of the Fellowship, while GALADRIEL sings.

GALADRIEL:

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves there grew.

Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in them blew

Lothlórien

In light I wove a perfect land of timeless joy

A dream of home no mortal hand would dare destroy

Lothlórien

Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon

Wonder…

Here forever, never depart

Glorious dream, child of my heart.

Grow forever, mystical power.

Garden of hope, delicate flower

The golden leaves will fade and fall from branching years

Though sweet the song yet sweeter still will be the tears

The night must come, the shadows grow, the dark descend

And all we love and all we know must reach an end

Lothlórien, Lothlórien

For tides will ebb and tides will flow.

Wonder…

Stay forever, echo of light

Memory rare, shaded from sight.

Live forever, held like a breath,

Deep at the core, blossom in death.

The Fellowship pass the night in Lothlórien. GALADRIEL and other ELVES present them with Elven cloaks and gifts. GALADRIEL places a small box beside SAM. The ELVES start to sing.

GALADRIEL: For you, Samwise Gamgee, earth from my orchard. If you keep it and see your home again, then perhaps it will reward you. Meriadoc Brandybuck, almië. Almië, Legolas.

(Translation (Q): almië = blessings)

GIMLI wakes and sits up, startled by the Elves' presence.

GALADRIEL: Have no fear, Gimli son of Glóin. What Elven gift will a Dwarf accept?

GIMLI: Nothing. Unless, perhaps… a single strand of your hair, which surpasses the gold of the earth as the stars surpass the gems of the mines.

GALADRIEL: And what would you do with such a gift?

GIMLI: I will treasure it, as a pledge of goodwill between Dwarves and Elves until the end of days.

GALADRIEL takes a strand of hair from her head and gives it to him.

GALADRIEL (passing around the rest): Peregrin Took, almië. (to ARAGORN) Your time is close, Elessar. Have faith. (to BOROMIR) Boromir, almië.

ELVES:

Laurië ai lantar a lassi súrinen,

únótimë yéni ve rámar aldaron!

A vanwa ná.

Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva, enquantuva?

Vanwa ná. Namárië.

Nai hiruvalyë Valimar.

(Translation (Q): Oh, like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees! Oh, it is lost. Who now shall refill the cup for me, shall refill it? It is lost. Farewell. Maybe thou shalt find Valimar.)

GALADRIEL: May you wake refreshed, Elf-friends. Many paths lie before you. Truth and the right choice will not be clear. May the stars shine on the end of your road!

The Fellowship wake. They gather their gifts and the cloaks, and get to their feet, refreshed. The Fellowship leave Lothlórien.

GALADRIEL:

Wonder…

ELVES:

Day may end, eyes may close

And everything we know may fade and fail.

Senses glaze, breathing slows, mind flies free.

Surrender and prevail!

GALADRIEL & ELVES:

Night will pass, dawn will come

New voices rise in other song.

Turning tides surge and swell

Bearing forth new wonder to the world.

GALADRIEL:

Shine forever, beacon of light.

Blaze in the air vanquishing night.

Sing forever proud and strong

Anthem of life, conquering song.

Though tides of fate onward run

The song of hope once begun

Will evermore remain.

West End

(The Watermill Theatre's "Wonder" is 90% identical; changes marked in purple.)

As FRODO and SAM are getting ready for their journey into Mordor, GALADRIEL enters.

GALADRIEL:

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves there grew

Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in them blew

Lothlórien...

In light I wove a secret land of timeless joy

My perfect child no mortal hand could dare destroy

Lothlórien...

Beyond the sun, beyond the moon

Wonder...

Shine forever, beacon of light.

Blaze in the air vanquishing night.

Live forever, held like a breath,

Deep at the core, blossom in death.

My golden leaves will fade and fall through branching years

Though sweet the song yet sweeter still shall be the tears

The night must come, the shadows grow, the dark descend

And all we love and all we know must reach an end

Lothlórien.

The remaining members of the Fellowhip save ARAGORN gather before the battle.

Though worlds will die and worlds will grow.

Out of death, life

Out of night, day,

Glory/beauty from sorrow.

Out of grief, joy,

Out of storm, come,

Strength for tomorrow! (x2)

【Far beyond feeling,

Destruction of pain.

Come, breath of healing,

A new life will reign!】 excluded

LEGOLAS: Do you feel the tenseness, Gimli? It takes my breath.

GIMLI: May Galadriel help us.

LEGOLAS: If we live to see another dawn, I will take you to see the wonders of the Northern Forests.

GIMLI: And I will show you glories that lie deep beneath the earth. Almië, Legolas.

LEGOLAS: Almië, Elf-friend.

(Translation (Q): almië = blessings)

ARAGORN enters with the ARMY OF ALLIES.

ARAGORN:

Day may end, eyes may close,

Everything we know may fade and fail.

ARAGORN & THE ARMY OF ALLIES:

Live or die, stand as one

For they who stand together may prevail.

The STEWARD, GANDALF, MERRY, PIPPIN, LEGOLAS and GIMLI join ARAGORN. They kneel while GALADRIEL continues to weave spells of protection.

GALADRIEL & THE ARMY OF ALLIES:

Shine forever, beacon of light.

Blaze in the air vanquishing night.

Sing forever, proud and strong,

Anthem of life, conquering song.

Shine forever!

ARAGORN challenges SAURON. SAURON's Eye is upon them all.

ARAGORN: Sauron! Do you know me yet? I am the heir of the Great King who once cast you down. His blood is in my veins and his blade in my hand. I am coming to complete the work he began: your destruction!

GANDALF: Stand, Men of the West! This is the hour of Doom!

GALADRIEL:

Wonder...

GALADRIEL & THE ARMY OF ALLIES:

Wonder!

The Final Battle commences.

#lotr musical #lord of the rings musical #wonder #lotr musical script #lord of the rings #galadriel #lotr

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katsidhe · 3 years

Note

could you share the descriptions of the answers? I'm bad at answering these quizzes cause I always get like 3 answers that fit but in different circumstances so I like seeing all of the descriptions

Yeah sure! I too wish uquiz gave an option to see all the result descriptions... alas.

anyway here’s a wall of text, go nuts.

DEAN-CODED DEAN GIRL

You might just be the hero of a YA fantasy novel or an action movie, because you have Big Protag Energy. You’re self-centered and extremely giving at the same time: you expect and demand absolute loyalty, just as you provide the same. Your love can move mountains, but if you’re not careful that same love can be suffocating or controlling. You’re volatile: you’ll cut a bitch and you don’t care who knows it. You’ll kick their ass. You’ll kick their dog’s ass. You’ll kick your own ass. You have a one-liner for every occasion. Your friends like you but would describe you as “a lot.” You’re magnetic: your charisma and sheer bull-headedness mean you stand out in every room. You’re polarizing, and you know it, but that doesn’t bother you: you know you’re right, and even when you’re wrong, you’re at least entertaining. You’re very “do as I say, not as I do:” you’re a bit of a hypocrite, but, like, in a fun way.

Holotypes include: Dean Winchester (Supernatural), Thomas Jefferson (Hamilton), Sirius Black (Harry Potter), Kathryn Janeway (Star Trek: Voyager), Katara (ATLA), Vriska Serket (Homestuck)

DEAN-CODED SAM GIRL

You are a charmer and a people-pleaser. You’re charismatic to a fault, when you want to be: whether consciously or not, you have a razor-keen sense of how others see you, and you mold yourself to expectations. You can either talk circles around most people, or you come across as so fundamentally honest that you gain everyone’s trust without trying. Your affable persona is built on a rock-solid sense of purpose. You have a steadfast, deadset fixation on your goals, which you know in your heart to be worth any cost and any sacrifice. Armed with iron conviction, you’re a rebel with a cause. Is it paranoia if they really are all out to get you? When you inevitably win, the whole world will know your name. Your strong sense of self will carry you through any hardship. Your friends look up to you, but they don’t always “get” you.

Holotypes include: Lucifer (Supernatural), Eponine (Les Mis), Count Olaf (A Series of Unfortunate Events), Prince Zuko (ATLA), Samwise Gamgee (LOTR), Karkat Vantas (Homestuck)

DEAN-CODED CAS GIRL

Like all Dean-coded people, you are charming and affable, and you talk a big game. You might be the class clown or a popular athlete, or otherwise one of them cool kids, but underlying that public persona is a certain quiet idealism. You keep your strong convictions close to your heart, even when far from home or beset by strife. You’re fiercely loyal and you crave being around people, but you can see when your friends need space, and you can get along okay on your own. You’re not afraid to change your opinions if new information comes to light. Strangers find you easy to get along with: you tend to go along with the group, and you’re a team player no matter what needs to get done. Your chill-to-pull ratio is sky-high.

Holotypes include: Ahsoka (Star Wars), Meg (Supernatural), Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson), Ginny Weasley (Harry Potter), Boromir (LOTR), Jon Snow (Game of Thrones)

SAM-CODED DEAN GIRL

You come across as level headed, but you’re never more than an inch from going off the rails. Your highest values are love and personal loyalty, but you’re pragmatic about it, and you try very hard not to put unfair expectations on other people, with varying degrees of success. You spend a lot of time dealing with expectations; it’s something you either grapple with, or lean into to use to your own ends. You value your own sense of identity, but that identity can get subsumed by your loyalties. You can easily get pulled in or suborned by strong personalities. You keep secrets, both from yourself and from others. Who you want to be is at odds with how you see yourself. People meeting you for the first time might say you’re aloof. You have lots of strong opinions, but you usually keep them to yourself… unless provoked. Careful; you bite.

Holotypes include: Mary Winchester (Supernatural), Harry Potter (Harry Potter), Aragorn (LOTR), Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars), Julian Bashir (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine), Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games)

SAM-CODED SAM GIRL

Gifted kid (diagnosis). You were and maybe still are an outsider, and because of that you’ve had to learn to be self-sufficient and confident in your own abilities. You’re a fiercely independent overachiever, and you’ve fought hard for every inch. Somewhere inside you is a hot, long simmering rage born from the injustice of the world, but it’s buried very deep. You’d be more than content to be alone for long periods of time. You have sometimes crippling perfectionism: if you aren’t succeeding, it’s your fault for not trying hard enough. You’ll pick every kind of intellectual fight and throw yourself into playing devil’s advocate just to improve your understanding: you see the gray areas in everything. You’re aggressively big-picture. You want to, no, you MUST change the universe, but you don’t need to take credit for it. Your few friends might describe you as callous, but you know you’re just being realistic: you’ve got a harsh, clear-eyed sense of the world. No pain, no gain, and really, if you do the math, no single individual is all that important in the grand scheme of things.

Holotypes include: Kevin Tran (Supernatural), Jean Valjean (Les Miserables), Emperor Palpatine (Star Wars), Neville Longbottom (Harry Potter), Frodo Baggins (LOTR), Dirk Strider (Homestuck), Luke Castellan (Percy Jackson)

SAM-CODED CAS GIRL

You have a strong sense of how the world ought to be, but you have no overriding vision or big master plan: you take life day by day to fix the little things you can. You have very few close relationships, but those you have you treasure dearly. You support your few friends unconditionally, but you tend to be emotionally distant with acquaintances. You may be a bit of a pushover. You often find yourself put in the position of mediator. You loathe conflict, so you avoid it unless absolutely necessary--but once you’re truly angry, you’ll stop at nothing to see justice done. You’re a diplomat and an advocate: you are deeply idealistic, but you’re nevertheless strongly grounded in a pragmatic sense of achieving what you can. Philosophy is action, action is philosophy; you like meditation and self-improvement and have probably done at least one juice cleanse. Both friends and strangers describe you as quietly dependable. If you can’t see the trauma, the trauma can’t see you! That’s just science!

Holotypes include: Sam Winchester (Supernatural), BJ Hunnicut (M*A*S*H), Jean-Luc Picard (Star Trek: The Next Generation), Aang (ATLA), Luke Skywalker (Star Wars), Nico di Angelo (Percy Jackson)

CAS-CODED DEAN GIRL

Much of your identity is tied up in a set of core beliefs - to the point where those beliefs might be strong enough to override your identity. You’re not beholden to any outside system. If you’re comfortable serving a larger common goal, it’s because you believe in it wholeheartedly. You’re action-oriented: you act first, and think later, or possibly never. You judge your friends solely based on what they do, and you tend to hold people accountable for any unforeseen consequences of their choices. You have strong personal loyalties. You’re not at the center of your social circle, but your friends trust you implicitly and the leader of your group tends to confide in you. You don’t seek power, but you’re also not afraid of taking charge, and you may find power thrust upon you. If you do find yourself in a position of leadership, you struggle with going too far or taking your friends in an unexpected direction. Whether you’re fighting in a war or making yourself a sandwich, you go hard in the motherfuckin’ paint.

Holotypes include: Castiel (Supernatural), Javert (Les Miserables), Captain Rex (Star Wars), Kanaya Maryam (Homestuck), Worf (Star Trek), Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter)

CAS-CODED SAM GIRL

I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you’re a bit weird. You are spacey or odd or otherwise out of step with how people think you should act, but that’s fine. It doesn’t matter what they think, because if you’re sure of one thing, it’s that you should never mold your unique identity to other people’s expectations. You live internally: you’re all about grand, world-changing concepts, whether they be philosophical, artistic, or mathematical. You are grounded in the reality that you are one person and one viewpoint among many others, but that doesn’t stop you from writing your nine-hundred page thesis on the topic you’re passionate about. You can justify just about anything by the virtue of your personal convictions arising almost entirely from within yourself. Your identity can get swept up in your big ideas. You’re easier to sway with logic than with emotion, but you don’t feel the need to confine yourself with such terms: you operate on both vibes and flowcharts. You move through the world with the assurance that you are the master of your own fate, and you are unburdened by worrying about the opinions of others. You won’t let yourself feel pinned down by one social group; you float in and out comfortably, depending on how you’re feeling. Friends and strangers describe you as “spooky.”

Holotypes include: Azazel (Supernatural), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Aaron Burr (Hamilton), Princess Azula (ATLA), Yoda (Star Wars), Jadzia Dax (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine), Terezi Pyrope (Homestuck)

CAS-CODED CAS GIRL

You are chaotic and excitable. You’re swayed by the drive to explore: the greatest good is to understand the universe and your place in it. You’ve got big ideas, and you’re drawn to new experiences, but you don’t necessarily understand what’s going on. You might be a part of a bigger social machine, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be defined on its terms: you’ll self-actualize if it kills you. You identify new objects by licking them. You can see the strings of the world; what will you choose? You’ll take the reins and see where they take you. You say you’re following your own path. Your friends say you don’t know what you’re doing. Pragmatism? Never heard of her. A dream is a vision is a reality; ideas are the world writ large. You might be a prophet or a visionary. With your head in the clouds, you’re sometimes divorced from both reality and consequences. You’re usually on the outside looking in, and you don’t want to be. People think they understand you, but they definitely don’t. Your friends and enemies describe you as impulsive and mysterious.

Holotypes include: Raphael (Supernatural), Uncle Iroh (ATLA), Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter), Data (Star Trek: The Next Generation), Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars), Gandalf (LOTR)

#x coded y girl #i speaks #my quiz #long post for ts #why doesn't uquiz give that as an option?#and while we're at it why won't uquiz let me click one button to read all the text box responses ppl gave me :(#aromanticbristlefrost

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