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soralinklokidottirofmirkwood · 1 year

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Princess of Bag End: Lord of the Rings x hobbit teen Reader

Age: 15. reader is Bilbo's young daughter and heiress. she is very small for her age, knows elvish, and doesn't have big hairy feet like other hobbits but everyone in the shire still loves her except for the Sackvill-baggins because she doesn't look hobbitish (the people nicknaming her the Baggins princess but the Sackvill-Baggins called her daughter of mad Baggins) She is the very youngest member of the fellowship. Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin are very protective of her later on the taller members are protective of her.

You are with your oldest cousin Frodo who is reading while you practiced your archery skills waiting for a certain someone. Your waiting was paid off when you heard the singing of a wizard who quote "Helped." Your father out of the shire 60 years ago.

(I love this dress from this fem Bilbo art ps your wearing the dress in the beginning) you and Frodo smiled at each other and began running in the direction of the singing. Seeing the Wizard in grey on his wagon you and Frodo came out with Frodo crossing his arms "Your late." Frodo said smirking "A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." As he says this Frodo raised his brow while you looked confused "Good morning?" You asked making the wizard chuckle "Just like your father before the journey." the wizard said soon all of you laughed with both of you jumping into the wagon to give the wizard a hug "ITS WONDERFUL TO SEE YOU AGAIN GANDALF." You said happily. On the way to Bag end he told you of what goes on outside the shire you and Frodo told Gandalf he is known as "Disturber of the peace." And that your family use to be well known and respected until he came and gave your father a push "My dear girl I merely gave him a push out of his hole." Gandalf said ruffling your naturally wavy waist length H/C fading to light brown hair 'I bet she and a certain elven prince would get along well.' Gandalf thinks to himself.

Later at night:

You are having an archery contest with a few other young hobbits who love archery, your father is telling Hobbitlings of his adventure with the company of Thorin Oakenshield, Frodo is encouraging Sam to dance with Rosie and Merry and Pippin are up to who knows what.

As your about to shoot another arrow you hear someone shout "DRAGON." You look up to see a dragon shaped firework flying around and heading towards your father and Frodo "DAD! FRODO! LOOK OUT ITS BEHIND YOU." You screamed out but luckily Frodo managed to get Bilbo and himself down.The dragon flew over the lake, into the sky and exploded into fireworks making everyone clap.

It turns out Merry and Pippin fused the firework so Gandalf made them wash the dishes as punishment, Your father was giving his speech but he somehow disappeared "Dad?" You said fearfully looking at Gandalf who looked shocked "Y/N. I fear there is something else he found in the misty mountains during our journey." He said running to Bag end with you following but far behind the oddly fast old wizard.

At Bag end your POV:

I made it to Bag End but as I reached the door I can hear Gandalf yelling on how he's trying to help Dad but soon all fell quiet. I slowly opened the door to see Dad and Gandalf hugging but something wasn't right though "Dad? Gandalf?" I asked "Y/N my dear I have to go, I'm leaving Bag End and this ring to you and Frodo." I was shocked by this but Gandalf stopped him "Bilbo the ring isn't safe here! And Y/N is still a child. She can't handle it." He said gesturing to me "Y/N. My sweet girl. I am going to live in Rivendell from now on. But I will visit as much as I can." He said taking my hands and softly stroking them with his thumbs making me tear up that he's Leaving. "I was saving them for your next birthday but you've waited long enough." He said taking out a gorgeous bow with a quiver of arrows and a beautiful necklace. My eyes went wide in awe and Gandalf sadly smile."The king's jewel. Commonly known as the arkenstone." I said looking at the beautiful necklace "I did take my fourteenth share of the treasure." Dad said clasping it around my neck I immediately hugged him.

(Bilbo had a small piece of the Arkenstone made into a necklace.)

After the party no one's POV:

Frodo finally came back from the party but he only saw you and Gandalf "Y/N. Where's uncle?" He asked you but before You answered Gandalf answered him and saying how he needs answers and left.

Later no one's POV :

(With the necklace above)

You, Frodo and Sam have been walking from the shire for a while with no interruptions aside from Sam's hesitation at the border line "It's alright Sam. Dad said there is nothing to be afraid of." You said in a comforting manner to your Gardener and friend who smiled as all three of you walked until your in a corn field but yelling and barking can be heard followed by your other two older cousins Merridoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took "ohh look it's Y/N and Frodo Baggins." Pippin said as he landed on Frodo but the chat was stopped as the yelling and barking got louder making you all dash for your lives. You ran until you see a cliff but as Sam ran into you and your cousins making all of you fall down.

Later at Bree:

It was now poring rain by the time the five young hobbits got to Bree and lost the Nazgûl. Getting in was tricky but Frodo said to the man at the gate "Our is business is our own." After they were let in the man pointed them to an inn called the prancing pony. The five young hobbits made it to the inn at this point cold and soaking wet but relieved to be in the warmth. Frodo went to the man at the counter, the man said he has beds just their sizes and Frodo told him his last name was Underhill but when he saw Y/N "She doesn't look like a hobbit." He said gesturing to the young teen hobbit "She's a hobbit. She just doesn't have our big hairy feet." Frodo said explaining why you wear shoes. "Ahhh. Not everyone is born with traits from their race." The man said luckily Frodo changed the topic by asking about Gandalf but the man said he hasn't seen him in six months "Now what do we do Mr Frodo?" Sam asked as Y/N looked around. They are now sitting at a table eating and drinking, well Y/N had salmon with potatoes, spinach and a cup of juice since she doesn't eat meat and is underage as she's eating Pippin said he's getting a pint even though he already has one. Y/N sees a man staring at her, Sam and her cousins. Sam notices as well "That fellow, has done nothing but stared at us since we've arrived." Sam told Frodo who sees the man from the desk walking past their table and asked "that man who is he?" Y/N learned that he was a ranger going by the name Strider but they are dangerous folk. After the man said this Y/N heard the ring whispering "Baggins." Over and over again but she snapped out of the trance when she heard Pippin talking to men and saying "Yes I know a baggins. Two of them infact, they are my second cousins. Frodo from his mothers side and Y/N from her father's side. She's the princess of bag end." As Pippin says this Frodo shots up to grab him but he trips and the ring falls on his finger causing him to disappear. Y/N felt a huge headache blooming in her head but suddenly she was grabbed by the shoulder by the man Strider "You lot are going to be the death of me." He said having a firm grip on the teens arm. Y/N was about to tell him to let her go but then he grabbed Frodo after he took the ring off "you have drawn to much attention to yourself Mr Underhill." He said dragging the two young hobbits.

Your POV:

After the ranger dragged Frodo and I out of the dining room he roughly pushed us into a room with a grunt as I landed Frodo pulled me behind him protectively "what do you want?" He asked the man who started putting out the candles and pulling down his hood "that is no trinket you carry on you." He kept talking about helping us and how we can't wait for Gandalf any longer until Sam, Merry and Pippin came in "LET THEM GO!" Sam shouted out but Frodo and I calmed him down.

Days later:

It had been days since you, Sam and your cousins meet Strider. He was very strict, didn't understand Hobbit meals and was a very strange man but he's a great leader he even carried you since your the youngest and smallest. "He kinda reminds me of Thorin but human." You whispered to yourself remembering your father's stories of his journey "I wonder if we'll meet any of the other members?!" You asked yourself hopefully.

After so much walking your finally resting but Strider said he's taking a look around but not without giving you all weapons "keep them close by, stay here." Then He left.

A few hours later:

You are awaken by Merry, Pippin and Sam talking and the smell of food "what are you doing?" Frodo asked scared then you both ran to the other three Hobbits "Put it out you fools." You said as Frodo started putting out the fire with his feet but the damage was done as screeching was heard.

Everything happened so fast you all ran from the Wraths, you and Frodo are stabbed, Strider came to your rescue, to add insult to injury your six days away from Rivendell but a very beautiful she elf came to take you both to Rivendell "It hurts so bad." You whimpered in elvish "Stay with me little Y/N." She said to you in gentle elvish but you couldn't keep your eyes open and past out.

You wake up to Gandalf''s and Frodo's voices along with another deep voice "Frodo? Gandalf? Where are we?" You asked rubbing your eyes with your small fist "you are in my home little one. Rivendell." Said an elf with dark hair and blue eyes "Rivendell? Are you lord Elrond?" You asked the elf in curiosity making him smile "I am indeed young Baggins." He said your eyes widened in awe. Sam came in and hugged you both making you smile.

You and Frodo walked out of the healing chamber to see Merry and Pippin who hugged you both then you all see Bilbo. Both of you ran to him but you had tears in your eyes you greeted him in elvish making Frodo confused. He said that he wants to visit Mirkwood, lake town and Erebor again but old age has caught up to him.

At the meeting:

It was finally the day of the meeting "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old." Elrond started the meeting you are sitting in between Gandalf and a very handsome elf who looked at you curiously. You waved and smiled politely at him making him smile back.

The meeting didn't go very peaceful a man named Boromir was speaking of the ring like it was some sort of weapon of good then he had the audacity to insult Strider but the elf you sat next to shot up "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn son of Arathorn you owe him your allegiance." You were shocked to hear this "Isildur's heir. King of Gondor." You said remembering your father's story on Isildir from years ago making the elf glanced at you "See even the young she-hafling speaks the truth." The elf said "Havo dad Legolas." Strider or as you now know him as Aragorn said to the elf in elvish "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." Boromir said sitting down.

It was confirmed that the ring must be destroyed "Then what are we waited for?" A red haired dwarf asked raising his axe but as he hits the ring with the axe the blade shatters, You ended up getting a splitting head ache, seeing Sauron's eye and hear him whispers "Baggins." Gandalf seeing your destress places a hand on your shoulder while the elf you now know as Legolas had concern on his face along with Elrond and Aragorn "It cannot be destroyed with any weapon created it must be taken to mount doom." You said rubbing your head "You are right Y/N daughter of Bilbo. It must be taken to whence it came." Elrond said giving you an approved smile making everyones eyes widened "She's Bilbo's girl?" a greying red headed dwarf asked in shock "The Bilbo Baggin's who helped reclaim Erebor from Smaug 60 years ago?" Legolas asked you can only blush from all the eyes on you but a huge fight with insults started up not wanting to be in the middle of it you made your way to Frodo both of you stared at the ring. You looked at Frodo, placed your hand on his and gave him a supporting smile he smiled back and rose from his seat "I will take it." He said but no one heard him from the insult throwing "I WILL TAKE IT." He yelled it out causing everyone to stop and listen "I will take it. But I do not know the way." He said Gandalf gladly supported him and offered his help along with Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir even Merry, Pippin and Sam offered to go "I also offer my Bow, Frodo we were raised together and you have been like a big brother to me. So I to am going on this journey. Also I always wanted an adventure I am part Took after all." As you say this Gandalf and Elrond chuckle at this "10 companions. So be it you are known as the Fellowship of the ring." Elrond said everyone cheered "Great. Where are we going?" Typical Pippin.

After the meeting you and Frodo came to Bilbo's room since it's the last night you see him again. He gave Frodo his sword sting, you dwarven daggers and both of you methril tunics he described them as light as feathers and as strong as dragon scales and told you to try them on when you came back from putting on your methril tunic you saw Bilbo crying and Frodo having a hand on his shoulder you walked over and hugged him tightly as he hugged back and stroked you hair "I have one more gift for you Y/N it's from your mother." When he said that your eyes widened when he revealed a decorated comb "She wanted me to give it to you when we won't be able to see each other," when he said that he but it on the back of your head.

The next day you all left Rivendell early. After walking for hours you're all resting on a cliff. Sam had made lunch, Boromir was training with Merry and Pippin while Aragorn watched, Gandalf and Gimli were talking, Legolas was on watch and you were training with your bow unaware of the elven prince watching you from his post.

Legolas saw that you almost surpassed him in archery when he saw you shooting at the training dummies and getting perfect shoots he smiled fondly at you and decided to join in "May I join you young Baggins?" He asked making you smile "Of course master elf." You said to the elven Prince getting your arrows while he takes out his bow unaware of a chuckling wizard "I knew they would get along well." He told Gimli "I still can't believe she's the daughter of the Bilbo Baggins." The dwarf said looking at you as you and the elf prince shot arrows while bonding.

Days later:

It was late noon your all getting exhausted from the walking and fighting you all did "We will stop here and rest for the night." Gandalf said sitting on a log.

You set up camp for the night "Plus you all need baths desperately." Gandalf said fanning himself with his hat.

Your in the lake washing the dirt, grime and dried blood off your cloths, body and hair with your jasmine Scented soap, shampoo and conditioner. After you finished bathing you, Sam and your cousins are all wrapped in blankets while you're clothes sun dried (which shouldn't be long) and Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir bathed while the sun was out.

After your clothes dried Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and yourself got dressed as you got dressed Gimli called out "By my beard the lass is the very smallest out of all of us." He said gesturing to your curvy figure. It is true you are smaller then other hobbits your age one of the reasons Lobelia Sackvill Baggins hates you because she's jealous of your appearance. Natural wavy waist length H/C fading to brown hair, Gorgeous almond shaped E/C eyes, tear drop shaped face, S/T skin and your curvy body.

She always tried to make awful rumors about you being adopted but no one ever believed her.

When the others saw this they are taken aback "I don't really eat meat master Gimli I prefer fish." You told your senior members who are in shock "It's true! She doesn't eat meat or any animal product." Sam said "Aye but she makes a mean stuffed salmon back at home." Pippin said "And vegan soup." Merry said "I thought she looked small for her age." Boromir said "I get that a lot." You said taking out your brush from your quiver and running it through your hair "Oh I'll help you Y/N." Legolas said grabbing the brush and helping you redo your hair.

Everyone is sitting around the fire with you sitting in front of Legolas as he continues on your hair "By the Valar Y/N you have long hair for a hobbit." He said redoing your braids with your hair tie in his mouth while you held the decorated hair comb your father gave you "Aye every hobbit girl wishes for her hair." Frodo said "Remember when Lobelia Sackvill Baggins tried to cut it for Yule day?." Sam asked making everyone laugh but you confused "I don't remember that." You said making Frodo chuckle "You were a toddler when that happened." He said "Aye uncle Bilbo was so furious he had to hide the scissors from her." Merry said laughing very hard from the memory "and the knives." Pippin said "along with his mother's silver spoons." Sam chimed in "Dad has always been protective of grandmother's things." You said as you gave the comb to Legolas who had his hand outstretched for it "I've been meaning to asked! where did you get that necklace from?" Boromir asked gesturing to your Arkenston necklace making the others curious "Ohh Dad gave it to me before he left Bag end." You said unclasping the necklace from your neck so everyone can see but a chocking gasp was herd from Gimli "By my beard the arkenstone." Gimli said in shock "The kings jewel." Boromir said stroking the white gem "Boromir." Aragorn said snapping Boromir out of his jewel sickness "I forgot you had that, Bilbo deeply treasured that half of the stone." Gandalf said fondly from the memories after the Battle of the Five Armies "It was given to him by the members of the company after Thorin's, Fili's and Kili's funeral." Gandalf said blowing a smock ring in the air "I owe those dwarves an apology 60 years over due." Legolas said telling his junior members of his meeting with the company of Thorin Oakenshield "It's hard to imagine you being that way Legolas." You said making Sam and your cousins nod in agreement making the big folk smile down at you five until you and the boys yawned "I think that's enough stories for the little ones for one night." Gandalf said taking his turn on watch "Aww but we're not sleepy yet." You said trying to hold in your yawns but failed miserably making

Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli chuckle "Nice try little archer but it's way past your bedtime young lady." Aragorn said picking up Frodo and Sam while Boromir picked Merry and Pippin up and Legolas picked you up. Each of you are placed in a pile but before leaving "Ye better take their weapons." Gimli said eyeing the hobbits weapons still attached to them "the dwarf is right." Boromir said taking Merry's and Pippin's daggers, Aragorn took Sting and Sam's daggers and Legolas took your bow, quiver and dwarven daggers "What a unique bow and arrows." Legolas said eyeing the bow and arrows in awe as he held them while Gimli looked at the daggers "The lass has great taste in weaponry." He said twirling one in his hand.

#platonic #middle earth #lord of the rings #legolas #aragorn/estel #the hobbits #boromir #gimli son of gloin #teen reader #x reader #the fellowship of the ring

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homonationalist · 7 months

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Both by threat of external invasion, and by threat of internal diminution and degeneration, then, white Europe was imperiled. And this is, of course, the dominant image of [The Lord of the Rings]. Think how often the picture is painted of the fewness and diminishing number of the defenders of Middle-Earth civilization, as against the teeming, literally countless, numbers of barbarians (orcs, Southrons, Easterlings, etc.). The fear of “race-mixing,” as we have seen, manifests itself both in LTR’s degraded men—the “gangrels,” the “squint-eyed and sallow-faced” “half-orcs” who threaten the (racially-pure) Shire (RK, 335, 350, 352)—and in its ominously uplifted orcs—the “half-orcs and goblin-men that the foul craft of Saruman has bred, [who] will not quail at the sun” (TT, 180). The decay of Gondor is accounted for partly by the mixing of their blood with that of lesser men (RK, 165) and partly through the simple failure to reproduce. Faramir warns: “The Enemy increases and we decrease. We are a failing people, a springless autumn. . . . Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry” (TT, 362–63). While on the other hand, of course, is the fantastic fecundity of the orcs and their allies. When Frodo sits on the Seat of Seeing he has a vision of the “Misty Mountains . . . crawling like anthills: orcs were issu- ing out of a thousand holes,” while “out of the East Men were moving endlessly” (FR, 518). In the battle of Helm’s Deep, “the hosts of Isengard roared like a sea” (TT, 178), “thick as marching ants” (TT, 174). They are, killed in their hundreds, but it makes no difference: “The enemy before them seemed to have grown rather than diminished” (TT, 178). In the Siege of Gondor, it takes nearly all the defenders’ strength to beat off an army from Mordor: “and yet it was but one and not the greatest of the hosts that Mordor now sent forth” (TT, 401; see also RK, 194, 206). (Significantly, the eventual defeat of the black racial danger posed by Sauron and the orcs is symbolized both by the fact that the Shirechildren born in the victorious year 1420 have “a rich golden hair that had before been rare among hobbits” [RK, 375]—a token of Aryanization—and by the long list of children Frodo foresees for Sam and Rose [RK, 382]. The race has been saved.) What Tolkien has done in creating LTR, then, is to draw on a potent complex of images and fears that, though particularly prominent in the early part of this century, goes back much further and deeper in the structures of the “political unconscious” of the white bourgeois Western psyche. This, in part, is what accounts for the “naturalness” of the narrative even in its supernaturalness. The bizarre situations of LTR strike no discordant note with us because, at a deep level, they are completely familiar. For he is painting a picture we have already seen innumerable times before: white civilization besieged by dark barbarity. It is simultaneously the outnumbered aristocracy surrounded by the shrieking mob, the colonial outpost about to be overrun by insurgent natives, the Christian West against the hordes of Saracens, Turks, Mongols. This explains why there are so many orcs: their very identity is predicated on multitudinousness.

Charles W. Mills from "The Wretched of Middle‐Earth: An Orkish Manifesto" (2022)

#charles w. mills #the wretched of middle earth #lord of the rings #reading

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rangers-are-cool-moved · 1 year

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Outside of Erebor in LOTRO

#a light in the darkness :: ooc #when the stars align :: my lotro screenshots #*|* far over the misty mountains grim *|* :: erebor #*|* when a hobbit goes a walkin' with 13 dwarves & a wizard *|* :: the hobbit

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tarisilmarwen · 1 year

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Hi Tari, I remember there was once upon a time a video that brought the whole “Why couldn’t the Fellowship just have the Eagles carry then to Mount Doom so Frodo can drop the One Ring into it” argument.

One argument it brought up goes something like and paraphrase here “Is really the whole ‘Frodo and Sam split off from main Fellowship and go to Mordor in a sneaky fashion plan the best one they can come up with, because you can’t count the amount of times the two got spotted, captured, injured or all of the above. For everyday it takes to get there on foot, thousands of lives are probably being lost. It was only by dumb luck that plan worked at all”

Do you have any rebuttals to that argument?

As I already pointed out in multiple posts re. the eagles, they simply do not fly far when carrying passengers and you would still have to get within feasible range of Mordor (by walking) to utilize them. Or use them in short burst all down the Misty Mountains which would get them spotted by Saruman's crebain spies and then probably ambushed while they camped to let the eagles rest.

More to the actual point of the complaint though, I wonder if this person actually read the books or watched the films because, ah, sending Frodo and Sam off alone to find the rest of the way to Mordor? Was most certainly NOT in the actual plans.

The Fellowship had intended to travel all the way to Gondor together. If they had even planned that far ahead. They were constantly having to readjust their plans and routes to avoid Saruman's Uruk-Hai forces and other bands of orcs. They tried the north mountain pass of Caradhras to avoid Isengard and wound up stymied by the weather, so they took a gamble through Moria to avoid having to go through Rohan which was way too close to Isengard.

That brought them out by Lothlorian so they took to the Anduin River to try to get some speed on the orcs and debated all the way down there which road to take once they reached the Falls of Rauros. Boromir wanted to go to Gondor, to Minas Tirith, to get reinforcements, Aragon obviously had some doubts and suspicions with that plan. The attack by the Uruk-Hai and Boromir making a play for the Ring decided things. Frodo decided it was safer for him to break off from the rest of the group, seeing as how the Ring was going to be seriously starting to corrupt them one by one. Sam stubbornly went with him out of sheer loyalty.

That left Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli on their own, unable to catch up to the hobbits, with Boromir dead and Merry and Pippin captured, on their way to Isengard where Saruman would learn pretty quickly they didn't have the Ring. Frodo and Sam were already out of reach. But any delay or distraction the three could afford them could only help.

So they go after the Uruk-Hai. Hope to stop them on the plains and keep the enemy confused about the actual possible location of the Ring. Hope to keep Sauron and Saruman's attentions in Rohan. Hope with a fervent foolish hope that Frodo and Sam can make it through to the end.

The whole point of Frodo and Sam breaking off from the Fellowship was that it was a massive unplanned Indy Ploy driven by unforeseen circumstances that they had no choice BUT to adopt, since the two were already too far ahead of them to catch up with. And Frodo had a very good reason for refusing additional aid along his path, having seen the Ring quickly corrupt Boromir's heart. He would not run the risk of that happening to more people along the way. He would have been very acutely aware of the Ring growing in power the closer they got to Mordor.

Tl:dr- No one planned on the whole, "Send two hobbits alone into the heart of enemy territory and pray it works." thing, shit just hit the fan and it wound up happening that way.

#askbox #lord of the rings #boromir #aragorn #frodo baggins #merry brandybuck #pippin took #sam gamgee #gimli #legolas #saruman

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the-sneep-snoop · 1 year

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ok from ages ten to fourteen i was incredibly obsessed with the hobbit and i haven’t watched it since then , so i’m rewatching it rn and here are some of my thoughts!

- i don’t remember thorin having such a massive forehead

- the soundtrack doesn’t even need the movie to be good you could just listen to it on its own

- the fight scenes r awesome like the one at the beginning with the oakenshield bit and azog’s arm coming off

- i LOVE the unexpected visitors bit it’s iconic and i love it. the whole part where they’re at the shire i love.

- on the other hand, the part with frodo and old man bilbo i don’t remember at all like i have zero recollection of this

- i still remember all the words to misty mountains. and all the words to the whole ‘one ring to rule them all’ thing. and the road goes ever on. i used to memorize stuff like that for fun and write it over and over in my diary

- the lego game version of this movie was AWESOME btw

- seeing fili and kili at the door gave me physical whiplash. it all came back to me in a millisecond. you have NO IDEA how obsessed i was. i can barely comprehend it. this is probably when i started making fanart, cause i still have books fully of shitty anime style fili. i liked kili WAY more tbh but i thought he was harder to draw

- same with thranduil. when he was on the moose and did the stare into the camera i got this intense wave of nostalgia/cringe. i have shitty anime drawings of him too (like a LOT)

- i LOVE the humour from the books and i have to say it translates very well to the movie imo. the troll bit WAS funny ok

- on a side note i know everyone likes lotr better than the hobbit but it always was my favourite. probably cause the book was so good

- i love sebastian the hedgehog

- the effects, to me, seem to hold up pretty well. my family apparently doesn’t agree since they kept asking why it looks so cartoony and whether this is an animated movie or live-action.

- the dwarves are SO silly they’re goofy guys and every single one has transmasc swag

- the shot where they walk down the path to rivendell is my very favourite

- bilbo’s facial expressions are the BEST 😭😭😭 he’s constantly like side eye… side eye……

anyways that’s it for halfway through unexpected journey so yeah like and subscribe for part 2

#the hobbit #yeah i entirely forgot how much of a grip this franchise had on me #you know i was actually thinking ‘but i didnt show signs of the autism when i was younger! i bet ii’m faking it!’ well #well well well

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timeladyjamie · 2 years

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Here’s an unfinished chapter of my old (and first) Lord of the Rings Fanfiction back from 2018 called “Swept Away by Destiny.”

I ended up deleting the whole story due to bullying I got back then on it and this was the only thing that survived it. I’m regretting deleting it, but I figured this should see the light of day since I’m not sure if I can ever go back to re-writing it. If I find my old outline for it, I’ll post it too.

However, this just shows to me how much I’ve grown as a writer from when I first wrote this. *pats my back*

Swept Away by Destiny Chapter 13: Whispers from Sauron

"There is only one good; Knowledge, and one evil; ignorance." - Socrates.

Everyone was weeping, crying over the loss of their companion. Gandalf had just risked his life to make sure they all got out safely. The hobbit's were a mess over the loss of their good friend, especially Frodo.

Aragorn was telling them they had to keep going. Boromir told him to give them a minute to mourn the loss of their friend as the two guys got in an argument over it.

Evelyn stood there silently, debating if she should tell them what she knew. Would telling them what would happen change how the story goes? Hearing the two argue more about it and seeing the heart broken Hobbit's faces made her put her foot down. "Aragorn has a point. We need to keep going."

"Evelyn..." Boromir looked to her confused.

The Guardian walked over to the Hobbit's, kneeling down to their level. "Gandalf will return to us, don't worry."

Frodo looked to her. "What do you know Evelyn?"

She sighed, knowing she was taking a big risk telling them everything. "Gandalf will return to us. Merry and Pippin will find him actually along with big trees."

The two hobbits looked to her confused. "Really?"

She nodded, looking to Frodo. "I know what will happen, remember."

"Where should we go next then Guardian?" Aragorn asked her.

"We need to start heading to Lorien to meet with Lady Galadriel."

Boromir looked to her confused still while the others seemed to agree with it.

"If that is what you say then, let us get a move on." Aragorn patted her shoulder.

The Hobbit's came over to her. "Is what you said about Gandalf true Evelyn?" Pippin asked.

"Yes, it is."

Merry gave a confused look. "When do we meet big trees?"

"Soon. Ten days time if I remember correctly. Just remember you two, when it does happen be brave and strong."

Merry and Pippin nodded confidently.

"Also, let me give you a piggy back ride." She said to Pippin, kneeling down so he could get on her back. "Aragorn, we are going up into the Misty Mountains and need to carry the hobbits."

"Let me help." Boromir said, taking Merry onto his back. "Besides, I'd like to hear you explain how you know so much."

Evelyn chuckled at this. "Well...would you believe me if I said everything in this world is nothing but a book where I'm from?"

"No, not at all." Boromir replied with a chuckle back. "But I guess that would explain how you could see future events, right?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Evelyn replied.

"So, what will become of Gondor then?" Boromir asked.

"It will be saved, just like everything else in this world if we continue on with our journey and help Frodo."

Boromir's eyes went wide. "Does that mean the ring is destroyed or are we able to use it to save Middle Earth?"

His question sent a chill down her back, remembering how the ring was able to tempt him so easily. And what came to be of him because of it. She had to try and save him from it.

"It will be destroyed, I'll definitely make sure of that. It's what needs to happen." She told him.

"It's crazy how such a little thing can cause so much chaos and make a man want to change for it." Boromir commented, looking over to the ring on Frodo's neck.

"It can't save Gondor Boromir." Evelyn told him. "It can't save anyone or anything. It's evil and it just whispers lies to you. Don't listen to it."

The Ring seemed to glow, as if talking back to Evelyn for her comment. Her eyes narrowed at it.

Boromir looked to her nervously. "I-I know. I just want to save my people is all."

"We can save your people by helping Frodo. We aren't the Fellowship of the Ring and the Guardian for nothing!" Evelyn chuckled.

"Good point." Boromir replied, but gave a glance back to the ring.

__________________________________________________________________

They had finally reached Lorien where Lady Galadriel was. It was night time when Evelyn heard Frodo go off to meet with her. She tossed and turned to go to sleep when suddenly a dark figured appeared to her in her dreams.

It was Sauron.

"Guardian, try how you will, but you can't stop me. I will take control of this place once more, even if I have to kill others to do so."

Evelyn looked to him, trying to stand her ground. "W-We will stop you."

Sauron walked up to her, leaning close to her face and grinning. "Really?" He chuckled. "You're nothing more than a child who is in my world now."

"I-I know how to stop you."

"I'd like to see you try Guardian. I can see what you see and I know what you know. You can't hide anything from me, just as you know that Boromir fellow is going to die because of the temptation of my ring."

"Leave him alone!" She

Sauron chuckled, amused. "Oh, look at that fire! How adorable. It won't be enough to stop me. I'll always be here haunting every single one of you, regardless of how your book says it ends."

Evelyn's eyes went wide and a chill came to her body.

Sauron got close to her lips before disappearing. "I'll always be here with you forever."

#my fanfiction #swept away by destiny #Jamie's throwbacks #Jamie's Unfinished WIPS

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ao3feed-thehobbit · 2 years

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Sharab'aban

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wMDSr5d

by transkermit

"I am a dwarrow of Durin's folk as much as any other who came. Erebor is my home, for all that I've never set foot in her halls, and I long for that home just as all of Durin's folk long for the halls of Khazad-dûm and to gaze into the smooth waters of Kheled-zâram. But unlike our lost home in the Misty Mountains, Erebor is not barred from us by a sleeping Bane of Dwarves, and I will not sit idly by when I could march alongside the other brave dwarrow who answered your call, and take back our revered halls from that horrid worm who sits there now, a murderer and thief. I would do what I can to see Erebor under dwarven rule again." Gimli, only a year and a half shy of his first majority, was told that he was too young to join the Company of Thorin Oakenshield in reclaiming their lost home. However, Gimli is of the line of Durin, known for their thick skulls and often-impulsive decision making. So he sets out nonetheless to follow his kin and assist on the quest to slay the beast sleeping on their treasure. But the road is long and hard, and Gimli soon realizes that unlike what tavern songs and bedtime stories lead you to believe, not every quest is simply a matter of dwarven strength and heroic glory.

Words: 4345, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Gimli (Son of Glóin), Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Thorin's Company, Fíli (Tolkien), Kíli (Tolkien), Balin (Tolkien), Dwalin (Tolkien), Glóin (Tolkien), Óin (Tolkien), Dori (Tolkien), Nori (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien), Bifur (Tolkien), Bofur (Tolkien), Bombur (Tolkien), Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduil (Tolkien)

Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)

Additional Tags: Gimli goes on the quest for Erebor because he's a little shit who won't be told what to do, this has a mix of book canon movie canon and my own personal brain canon, which of course triumphs over the other two, Gratuitous Khuzdul, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It of Sorts, this is just me taking the story of the hobbit and picking out what I like, and throwing the rest in the garbage, and adding a generous helping of gay because . of course

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wMDSr5d

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the hobbit

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loopy777 · 10 months

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So another couple of meta questions for your opinion for my Sauron goes west AU.

I've gone over my plans for the Elves in this AU, Where the magic never really faded, if not exactly regained the shine it had in the previous ages, but what of Tolkien's other races?

The ents would obviously would survive in a world withouth sauron and his genocidal campaigns against the entwives, but that atill leaves Dwarfs and Orcs.

Now we don't exactly know why Dwarfs went extinct sometime between the fourth age, and the beginning of recorded history, but tolkien was very clear that they did. With that in mind, was their final end a result of declining magic in the world? Or just terrible luck with the misty mountains sinking into the sea, and they didn't manage to survive elsewhere in the long term?

Now with a more stable, flat world, the Misty mountains would not fall into the sea as tolkien noted it was beginning to do as the fourth age began, so do you think this would in the long terms save the species as a whole?

Personally i think durin's bane would still drive them from Moria, Smaug would still be a terrible danger to any lonely mountain colony, and while sauron might not be around, the great evil empire that would take his place(An imperialistic, if not human sacrificing Numenor) would still affect them severely.

On the other hand, without a dark Lord to drive them, would the Orcs ever manage to dislodge the Dwarfs from their other big kingdom in the Misty mountains, Gundabad?

Not to mention that without sauron, i don't really see the Dwarf kingdoms in in proto africa and asia failing. And of course there's the dwarfs in the Blue mountains, which lies closest to the great eleven realm in western middle earth, and thus be filthy, filthy rich through trade.

But what do you think?

And as for the Orcs, i imagine that without any dark lords to force them into unity, they would exist as lesser, petty kingdoms and realms, ruled over by local strongmen in the wilder parts of the world.

Probably in constant conflict with their neighbors.

I don't really see any shot at true redemption from within, so if there would be any hope for them as a species beyond continuing to be evil, or eventual extinction, i can only see two possibilities.

Firstly they could be conquered by force of arms by an emerging empire of man, forced into becoming vassals, and send their men to fight for them war, their children taking the customs of their overlords over time, and eventually becoming a part of that empire's overall culture in some way(Think the way Rome Romanized the people they conquered).

Alternatively, i imagine if they manage to hold on until the coming of the messiah(Which will take place 4000 years after the end of the point in the timeline where Sauron was defeated in LOTR), I imagine the power of christ(Or whatever the son of man would be named in this timeline) dying for the worlds collected sins, would probably serve as some sort of catalyst for a grand change in a race defined by the sins that infused them with evil.

Honestly, the fact that Tolkien were clearly meant for Eru to be the judeo-christian god, and was going to have christ eventual coming be an in universe prophecy at some point, complicates this timeline a lot, but that is a way bogger topic for another ask.

Regardless, i would love to hear your takes on the Orcs. Do you agree with mine? Disagree? Mayhapd you think a dark lord to lead them would rise regardless in some kind of form even withouth sauron or another maia to be the one?

For the Dwarves, I recall an aside from 'The Hobbit' that Hobbits are still around but never/rarely seen by people because they hide from us and our clumsy ways. Adhering too strictly to stuff from 'The Hobbit' can clash with LotR and the associated prequels/lore, but to me that says magic doesn't entirely disappear from the world, it just retreats from human areas of dominion, and it's enough to maintain a non-human species. So from that, I'd extrapolate that Dwarves could have theoretically survived, and I'd go with the idea of various disasters and their impacts being the culprit behind the extinction. I'm not knowledgeable enough of Tolkien lore to pin it to a specific sequence, but your idea of making the loss of the Misty Mountains the fulcrum works for me.

I agree that we can probably blame the rise of a Dark Lord or other Morgoth-related force for the major losses of Dwarven strongholds to orc attacks. Granted, we don't have a lot of examples, but by my recollection, we never see orcs actually drive Dwarves out of their cities, it's always a Balrog or a dragon or something that can overwhelm the usual fortress-like defenses, and then orcs come along to help out or afterward. Even the Dwarves couldn't take back Moira on their own through battle, despite being better warriors than orcs, so I think their cities are just that good at repelling invaders.

You raise an interesting point about humans becoming the orcs' overlords, but I'm not sure I'd relegate them merely to vassals who eventually become ugly Lite Humans. Again, going back to 'The Hobbit' and the quote about goblin engineering ability:

"They make no beautiful things, but the make many clever ones. hey can tunnel and mine as well as any but the most skilled dwarves, when they take the trouble, though they are usually untidy and dirty. Hammers, axes, swords, daggers, pickaxes, tongs, and also instruments of torture, they make very well, or get other people to make to their design, prisoners and slaves that have to work till they die for want of air and light. It is not unlikely that they invented some of the machines that have since troubled the world, especially the ingenious devices for killing large numbers of people at once, for wheels and engines and explosions always delighted them, and also not working with their own hands more than they could help; but in those days and those wild parts they had not advanced (as it is called) so far."

I can see them being conquered by the Numenor Empire or whatever, becoming vassals, but then taking human science and technology and- well, maybe not improving it, but are the driving force behind an industrialization that makes them into something like a partner nation. An orc nation can rise where the primary employment is in factories that supply human nations. Those orc nations might even become hotbeds of research and development, overseen by human leaders, where the nasty work of breaking scientific barriers can be out of sight and out of mind of most of humanity. Perhaps orc mercenary companies also become a major way of waging war. (Am I making Numenor too much like America? XD)

As far as Jesus's involvement, I like how the published version of The Silmarillion handles all the religious stuff by saying "that's not part of our history and it's all mysterious to us." Of course, the Silmarillion is meant to be Elvish history, so that makes sense, but I lean towards continuing the spirit and saying that the whole "Son of Man" thing Jesus has going means the whole thing is humanity-oriented. So orcs wouldn't be included since they're either corrupted Elves or something else.

But, on the other hand, if orcs become a conquered sub-nation to humanity, maybe they would get dragged into an opportunity for salvation?

Story-wise, if I was going to do a redemption of the orcs, I'd want to link things back up with the Elves, taking them back to the beginning and their uncorrupted state. Perhaps the coming of Jesus eventually cuts the orcs off from the humans, leading to something involving the Elves?

(Now there's a sentence I never expected to type. XD)

#thekingofwinterblog

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risingphoenix761 · 5 years

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Vacation, day 5

En route to Gatlinburg and the Smokies. Late start due to tire trouble, which guarantees we'll have to stay overnight. *eyeroll* It's rainy on the interstate, but it took an hour on the back roads to get there. Windy af, no-shoulder, two lane back roads that are even more nerve wracking in the rain. But the further into the foothills you get, the better the scenery. Trees on all sides, either evergreen or in fall color, a few homesteads, a fast-moving creek along the road. And higher up in the hills? Nothing but trees and fog...

#the hobbit goes to the misty mountains

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clumsy-wonderland · 2 years

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Little Bird of Betrayal - Part 1

Pairing: Fili x OC Summary: In which Brinn the Snake-Eye, a cold and battle-hardened smuggler and occasional mercenary who is half a marble shy of sanity, is hired to guide thirteen Dwarves and one Hobbit through the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood, only to get stuck with a crownless Prince who awakens parts of her she long thought to be dead. Word count: 4873 Applied warnings: Swearing, mentions of a mercenary going about their murderous business, nothing you’d need a chaperone for. The author’s quick note: Chapter 1 of this looong Fili fic, please take the time to give me a bit of feedback! And if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Tagging: @fizzyxcustard @faeriefics

Next Part - Masterlist

She found the Snake-Eye in the morning.

The darkness had already started to drain from the sky, the gloomy debts fading to a velvety grey and the insects fell silent as the cold of night and the heat of day clashed together to pull smoke-like wisps of mist from the streams. The air was sweet with honeysuckle. Their twisting vines rambled over the ground and climbed up the small trees, smothering them, cascading through the greenness of spring grass. It made the hedges shimmer white and yellow with flowers, bordering the track that wound through the countryside like a black ribbon and melted away in the distance, disappearing as it ran into a fold of the hills.

The early hours were clear and dotted with stars, the first light of day peering over the hilltops and lingering on their peaks, drawing streaks of gold across the horizon. The sun rose red in the east, slanting through the fog, but couldn’t chase away the bitter cold wind blowing in from the north. It was biting into exposed skin, made faces feel raw and numb and turned fingers stiff inside their knitted mittens.

It was in this moment, in the lonely hours of a new dawn, that Darla shivered in her dress as she drew near the town of Bree, shoes stained with the filth of the road and mud caking on the soles.

The gangly growth of ivy had slowly crawled up the wall surrounding the small settlement, running in half a circle from the hill and back to it. The barricade was pierced by the heavy oaken doors of a barred gate that she found shut, but her steps were enough to tear the keeper from the half-slumber in which he rocked.

He had been dozing on a stool placed in the door opening of his lodge, a basket of freshly chopped firewood at his feet, jumping up when she approached and he fetched a lantern before clumsy hands fumbled with the lock of a hatch, peering down at her in surprise.

“Who goes there, snooping about in the dark as you do? A child travelling alone in the small hours?” he asked gruffly, an elderly and rheumatic man with hunched shoulders and sunken cheeks, wrapped in a mouldy-looking coat that reeked of mothballs. “What do you want? What might your name be, hm?”

“I’m not a child!” Darla called out in protest, much too loudly, her voice cutting through the morning quiet like a sharp knife. “Stop your endless worrying, it’s just me.”

The gatekeeper narrowed his bulging eyes, a knobbly hand raised up the lantern so he could study her face in the dark, recognition flashing across his pasty features. “Ah, little Darla, why didn’t you just say so?” he grunted, the softening of his voice barely noticeable. “What business could you be having at this time of night? Up to no good, are ya?”

“Don’t go wagging your forked tongue at me,” she bit back, succeeding in swallowing a snort. “Me and mine have always been fairly spoken to before.”

“All right, all right,” he silenced her, shaking his head in disbelief as he held up a hand in defence, lowering the lantern with the other. “You’ll have to pardon my questions, but it’s my business to ask after nightfall, you see, and poor old me at the gate won’t be the only one doing the asking if you sneak through the night like a common thief. There’s strange folk about, can’t be too careful these days.”

“There’s always strange folk about,” she mumbled under her breath, making a great show of rolling her eyes.

“What?” he barked out, turning his good ear towards her, the cold air nipping at the reddening shell. “Speak up, girl!”

“Have you finally gone deaf then? I said, there’s always strange- oh, never you mind,” she sighed. “I’m making for the inn, are you going to let me pass or not?”

“Going to the inn at this odd hour? What madness has possessed you?” he demanded to know, staring at her darkly, those uneasy eyes watching with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, but then he shrugged and unlocked the gate. “Oh, very well, but you best go there in a hurry, no wandering, it won’t do you no good at this time of night! Strange folk have been passing through these parts.”

“You mentioned that,” she muttered absentmindedly, brushing past him, the wood groaning and creaking in protest when the entrance was shut behind her and the lock fell in place.

“Had a whole gaggle of Dwarves coming through the other day, had a Hobbit with them as well, out of the Shire by his talk, I reckon. We don’t often see the Shire-folk on the road at night. Strange, isn’t it? Wouldn’t tell me their names or their business, very strange. It’s all a bit out of order, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, but he seemed to expect no answer, trailing off and continuing to mumble softly for a moment or two, as if he was speaking to himself, before his eyes snapped back to her. “They got rather upset when I pressed for answers. Can you believe the nerve of them?”

He waited, giving her room to move into the silence he had left and he scrunched up his nose when she didn’t, his veiny jowls quivering when he drew in a shaky breath, continuing on with the story regardless of her lack of interest. “Came in with a bearded fella, seen him around these parts before, I believe. A ludicrous hat and a meddlesome nature, very strange.”

Darla smiled at that. She knew the man dressed in grey, usually appearing a little weather-beaten and dishevelled, cloaked and booted for a journey on horseback and always stained with the tell-tale signs of long travel. He was an enigmatic character who brought news from afar and told forgotten tales that she eagerly listened to while he puffed on his curiously carved pipe.

The last time she had seen him, on a pale day in March, he had spoken of the Great Drakes that dared to venture into the land of the living from the outskirts of this world, rumbling a chuckle when she had crawled to the edge of her seat. Firebreathers originating from mountains looming in the distance, with razor sharp teeth in crocodilian-shaped faces, double lids blinking over slit pupils and bat-like wings that cracked like thund-

“Isn’t that strange?”

She threw her head back and sighed in exasperation. “Very strange.”

“Strange indeed, girl, very strange, my thoughts exactly,” the gatekeeper said, nodding along. “Said they had a fancy to stay at the inn, I wonder what old Butterbur made of them.”

“I’m sure they were pleasant enough. Gandalf tips well, or so I’ve heard.”

“Bah,” he huffed in disagreement. “Won’t do you well to trust the likes of him, very strange fella.”

“Oh, the things I must endure,” she mumbled and she would have liked nothing better than to plait the vines of the ivy into a noose and hanging herself from the wall right there and then, but having no such luck.

“What?” he practically yelled, cupping his hand around the ear with the least amount of hearing loss, a fuzzy patch of greying hair sprouting from it. “What are you mumbling for, girl? Speak up!”

“Nothing to trouble yourself with,” she said, stepping back to create more distance between them, moving up the road that led into the village. “A truly riveting tale, I assure you, but I must be going now.”

“Remember, no wandering about, you really can’t be too careful these days.”

“I know!” she called out over her shoulder.

“Don’t go shouting through the streets now, you’ll wake up the whole neighbourhood with your hollering,” he scolded as he staggered towards his lodge, dragging an almost useless left leg behind him and muttering about how the haberdasher next door was always complaining about the noise.

The town of Bree was a dizzying and densely populated maze where the upper floors of the half-timbered houses, whitewashed with lime and stained black with decades of filth, overhung the twisting alleys and narrow lanes. During the day it was a noisy place, salesmen shouted out their wares to passer-by’s, the bells rang, minstrels and puppeteers entertained the crowds for the satisfying clink of coins being dropped into their hats and beggars could be heard on every corner.

Now, during the fiery glow of an early sunrise, it was still cloaked in the last slivers of darkness, leaving the roads eerily quiet. Even the less reputable folk - vagabonds and thieves who had been chased out of their neighbouring jurisdictions - had gone to sleep. Half the population seemed to be drunk in the gutters from the ale that had flowed freely during the night to celebrate Highday and Darla stepped over limp bodies all the way up the hill, growing a little careless in the town sick with drink.

She passed the cottages with thatched roofs flanking a winding cobblestone street, curving along the southern wall, here small shops with brightly coloured window frames and wooden signboards told her of baked goods, pottery for sale and all the fine footwear anyone could ever need. She went further east where the skinners’ workshops could be found and angled north towards the market. Clothiers who had travelled to the town with their pack horses were unloading their wares at the crack of dawn, waiting for their bales to be sealed and weighed by market officials and merchants had started to erect stalls on the square from where they could haggle the price of spices they had brought from the east.

She ducked into an alley next to the shop of a well-known fishmonger, the pungent smell already starting to work itself into her nostrils, and came out on the other side where great stone houses were nestled on the hillside and Hobbit holes were dug into the steep sides behind them. Down the road, where it swept to the right and around the foot of the hill, lay the Prancing Pony. The three floors towered over her, light burning behind the thick curtains of the many windows, a merry song pouring out of the door, cheerful voices clumsily slurring through the chorus.

Inside it was warm and comfortable, packed full of people in various states of intoxication and the air was hazy with a thick cloud of pipe smoke. A figure came stumbling towards the door, half-drunk and cursing the strength of the ale. He was an older man, past forty and already having lost much of his thinning hair streaked with silvery grey. However, still fit in his middle-age, with broad shoulders and arms strong enough to crack her head open against the wall. At least, that’s what he told her when he bumped into her and nearly knocked her off her feet before he tripped and fell down the steps outside.

Some of the men from all walks of life who gathered here to sing bawdy songs and lose money at cards or dice had gone home, others dozed head-down on the tables dotted across the wooden floor, but the majority didn’t allow the dawn to chase them out of the establishment just yet.

“Ah, yes, little Darla, haven’t seen ye around here in a while,” she heard the innkeeper, Mister Butterbur, say from behind the bar as he dumped a tray laden with dirty dishes into the waiting arms of a barmaid, wiping his hands on his white apron. “What may ye be wantin’?”

“I’m looking for someone,” she said. “A young woman with a weird eye. Is she here?”

“Not too sure, don’t sound familiar, she might be sleepin’ off the drink in one o’ the rooms. We’re packed, don’t often get a crowd this big in the house as it is tonight and I’m run off me feet,” he mumbled, deep in thought, then he slapped a hand to his forehead, as if he was trying to push a forgotten memory back in there, vanished in the smoky haziness of the inn and appeared again within the minute. “Aye, she’s here, ye’ve tracked her down alright.”

“Does she have company?”

Barney Butterbur barked out a bellowing laugh, a hoarse and hacking sound heavy on the ear. “When does she ever? Wouldn’t trust her none, not much o’ a chatterin’ thing that friend of yers is, but the folks round these parts are a bit suspicious of anythin’ out of the way, as ye well know, and that one - uncanny, if ye understand me meaning.” He looked around, as if he suddenly realised he owned an inn and he had a potentially paying customer in front of him. “Would ye be wantin’ some ale then?”

“A nice cup of tea will do,” she said. “And breakfast? Bread, boiled eggs, a little ham, cheese and some fruit if you have it.”

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow. “Beggin’ ye pardon, but I was just about to close up shop and get me some sleep, haven’t even broken me own fast yet, never mind runnin’ round and-“

The copper coins being dug out of pockets and dropped on the bar swept the sour look off his face, causing him to sing a different tune. A smile stretched over his yellowed teeth from behind an auburn beard, pudgy fingers snatching the money away before Darla could change her mind.

“I’ve got an excellent cheese from me brother’s own cows, one bite and ye’ll name yer firstborn after me, ye wouldn’t dare tellin’ me different, and there’s some sugared grapes in me larder that the gentry is so damned fond of,” he said persuasively. “I’ll get one o’ the girls and she’ll make the bread for ye, good baker she is, better than meself. There’s not a more excellent taste to be found in all of Bree!”

“You’re certain you want to trouble her at this ungodly hour?”

He waved away her complaints. “She’ll gladly do it for the likes of yerself, knowin’ yer such a generous customer and all that.”

Another coin was dropped on the bar.

He swept it up quickly. “I’ll get right on it, no time for talkin’ now, if ye be wantin’ anything else just shout and if I don’t come, shout again, I’ll come eventually,” he promised. “Matilda! Where the dickens are ye, child?”

“Coming, sir, coming!” the girl in question assured him, darting through the crowd with a mountain of empty mugs cradled in her arms, red-faced and a little out of breath, placing the pile on the bar and straightening those that fell over. “I’ve only got the two legs, sir.”

“Wipe the dirt off yer face, girl, don’t like ye trudgin’ through me honest place of business with all that mess on ye,” he said, flinching when the young barmaid dropped one of the mugs, the clay shattering into pieces on the floor. “Well, don’t just be standin’ there, aimlessly footlin’ about! There’s work to be done and ye best be makin’ yerself useful, stop yer loiterin’ and get started on the bread, double sharp!” He turned to glare at the customer that was impatiently waving an empty tankard around. “Good Gods, man. Half a minute, if ye please, Robert, can’t ye see I’m run of me feet here?” he shouted, then he noticed Darla lingering by the bar and he waved an absentminded hand towards a corner. “She’s in the back, girl, ye best go on now. Matilda!”

Darla pinched the bridge of her nose, fingers pressing into her skin, trying to massage the headache away that was building up there before it could branch out to her cheekbones and walked in the direction she had been pointed towards.

She passed a young man who drowned a tankard of ale in one swing, the youths around him egging him on and she listened with half a mind to their slurred conversations of historic battles, recent beddings and the haberdasher’s daughter who always managed to attract a great amount of attention. She nearly tripped over the crouched boy who was dragging great logs of firewood towards the hearth and watched an enthusiastic Hobbit jump on one of the stools. He played a fiddle while belting out a ballad, the mixed company around him banging their fists on the table and cheering, but the song could scarcely be heard over the sound of clattering mugs and the humming of drunken conversations.

She straightened her spine and strained her neck, balancing on her toes and looking for a familiar face amongst the many patrons when a hand wrapped itself around her wrist, the rough palm and calloused fingers holding her prisoner like a beartrap.

She barely managed to lock her lips around a squeal of surprise, forcing herself to swallow a lump of terror with a painful gulp in a dry throat and whirled around to face her attacker.

“Uncanny, indeed, it would seem,” the hooded figure said, baring her teeth from behind an animalistic grin, voice rippling with an accent, whispering in a tone that was usually reserved for the sharing of secrets. “Why are you so jumpy?”

She recognised that face and knew the name that belonged to it. Snake-Eye, that’s what people called her, Darla had listened to the talk in the streets and the concerned mumbles in the inn, the rumours that were slurred over tankards filled to the brim before men lost themselves in the hair, skin and unravelling clothes of pretty barmaids. And yet, despite the unsavoury stories she had overheard, there was no fear and she released all the air she didn’t know she was holding in a breath of relief.

“Jumpy?” she repeated, shoulders rising and falling heavily, trying to regain control of her unsteady breathing, allowing the waves of panic to wash over her until they softened into something more manageable. “Jumpy, you say? You scared the daylights out of me!”

Brinn the Snake-Eye had a ghastly scar that split her face in half, one that was rather difficult to ignore, a long gouge that shone silver on flesh in a golden shade of copper. Deep and pale, starting at her temple and moving down diagonally, passing through her eyebrow and cutting the sight out of her left eye. The right was dark and cruel, the broken one muddled and clouded, a strangely shaped and dilated pupil leaking out into the colourless iris. It travelled down and disappeared underneath her chin, pulling the corner of her mouth down slightly, twisting it into a permanent and crooked snarl.

When she raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question only the right one lifted fully, the left twitching up in a brave attempt, but lingering behind. Her skin had been sliced too deep, severing a few muscles here and there, leaving one half of her face full of expression and the other half limp and lifeless.

“Take more of an interest in your surroundings then,” Brinn barked out, seeming to forget herself for a moment, looking around, lowering her voice when she came to her senses. “I could have been anyone, the next time it won’t be me and you’ll die in the streets of this filthy town.”

“Well, it won’t be today,” Darla hissed as she slumped down on the empty chair at the table, the dim lighting from the lamps hanging from the beams didn’t quite reach them here and she traced the marks in an angry shade of red on her skin. They sang with pinches of sour pain, left by the white-knuckled hand that peeled itself off her wrist. “Has it been done then? Has justice been done for my poor sister?”

That one good eye gleamed with the colour of caramel from underneath the hood that overshadowed her face and her eyebrows curled down into a frown, a mutilated face growing colder. “What do you think I am, an incompetent simpleton?” Brinn snapped. “Of course it’s been done.”

She didn’t know what to say, her tongue scraped against the roof of her dry mouth and she dropped her eyes to the floor. “My apologies,” she mumbled, picking at her nails and avoiding the sharp gaze that had latched itself onto her form, wanting to melt into the ground. “And you had no trouble?”

“I wasn’t followed or seen, if that’s what you mean. I kept a good eye on the road behind me.”

She took the measure of the woman in front of her with a quick grey-eyed sweep and it took her a long time to construct a coherent sentence, lips faltering on the first few tries and stumbling over the words, swallowing letters as she went. She felt strangely heavy and numb underneath those angry eyes that carved a pattern into her form, as if they were looking for something hidden in her skin, absolutely determined to dig it out of her flesh.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because when someone follows me, they’ll never follow anyone again,” Brinn assured her, those scarred features smoothing out into a dull soft of indifference, her voice softened a little and if Darla didn’t know any better, she would have thought it almost sounded kind. “How is your sister?”

Darla snorted, remembering the bone in her sister’s nose that had been reset a while ago and the discoloration on her pale skin that was still visible, the obvious signs of having been forced to take a licking painfully clear. “She’s got a broken nose and she’s missing three teeth, the poor sod, how do you think she is? A stupid fool if there ever was one. She’s convinced no man will want her now that she’s spoiled, as she puts it, so we’re trying to keep it quiet. We told father that she tripped and took a tumble down the stairs.”

Brinn smirked, there was no joy in the curve of her lips, but it held no trace of animosity either. There was nothing there, she had been stripped of her humanity, beyond sense or feeling, leaving her detached from the worries of the world and those eyes seemed empty.

“Where’s my money? I don’t just go around loaning my sword out as a favour to anyone who comes knocking, you know.”

“We managed to scrape it together,” she said, searching through her pockets before holding out a hand, presenting a leather purse of promised coin.

“Tell your sister he went slowly, choking on his own blood, might do her good to hear it,” Brinn said as she rooted through the contents, quickly checking the value, biting into the metal to test it and tying the strings back in place. “Here, take one, buy some sweets for her or something,” she ordered in a short and clipped command, leaving little room for disobedience.

Darla gazed up in disbelief, eyeing the silver coin, the value of which would buy much more than sweets and she hesitated, a little unsure, could hear the tremble in her voice when she spoke. “No, no, I couldn’t.”

Brinn narrowed her eyes, jaw hardening, lips stretching into a thin line and her gaze grew cold. “I will change my mind in three seconds,” she grunted through her teeth, spitting out the words as if they tasted bitter on her tongue. “One, two-“

She took the coin, careful that their skin didn’t touch and pocketed it. “I’m sorry,” she said in a breathless whisper, lacking the strength to stretch her voice into anything above a pathetic whimper, doubting that the barely audible mumble could be heard.

She looked around the room, desperate to find a distraction, and watched Mister Butterbur chase the loudly protesting patrons out the door, longing for his bed. Her gaze twitched back towards the Snake-Eye, having found nothing of interest, and she grew a little uneasy when she realised those unnerving eyes had been observing her quietly, making her feel as bare as the day she was born. Perhaps the broken iris was able to undress her, peel back her skin, plunge through the muscles and stare straight into her soul - her secrets spilling out for all the world to see.

“I need a drink,” Brinn announced suddenly, rising from her seat and seeming to float on the discoloured floorboards like a silent phantom, a strange elegance gracing her soundless feet, standing in sharp contrast against that cruel face.

She frowned. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

Brinn shrugged. “I still need a drink. Copious amounts of it, in fact, after having to listen to your gatekeeper droning on unendingly.“

“He’s not my gatekeeper, he’s the town’s gatekeeper,” she said, but her objection fell on deaf ears. “You want some of my breakfast when it gets here? The cheese is usually decent enough, but not all it’s cracked up to be,” she warned. “Certainly nowhere near good enough to name my firstborn after the innkeeper.”

Silence, then a chuckle, a strangely guttural sound that rumbled in a thin chest, a rare display of emotion. “You do make me laugh, little Darla. Now, I’ll go see about that breakfast of yours, they’re agonizingly slow today.”

Brinn rolled her eyes and moved through the inn like a woman possessed, leather boots heavy with purpose as she marched with the timing of a well-trained soldier, never breaking her stride. She elbowed her way through the crowd, the fact that she was all heat and fire and seeming to be itching for a fight enough to force others into motion. They melted in front of her, stumbling over their own feet to clear a pathway just in time to feel her coat brushing past them.

She came back within a few minutes, carrying a tankard of ale, Darla’s mug of chamomile tea and a plate of food.

“Someone came to our house a while ago, looking for you,” Darla said quietly while she tore the bread in half, watched the steam curl up when the soft dough inside was revealed and bit into it, wiping the crumbs from her legs. “Had an ill-favoured look about him, said he had a message for you from someone he called ‘The Defiler’.”

“What was the message?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of old cloth, rough to the touch, stained with strange symbols that seemed unorganised and difficult to decipher. “How good is your Black Speech?”

Brinn took the cloth and traced the pattern of ink, studying the expressive and debased form of the Dark Tongue, harsh and ugly and unpleasant to the ear. “Rusty at the best of times,” she admitted. “I’m a bit out of practice, but I get the gist of it.”

“What does it say?”

“It promises a payment, for the head of a crownless King,” Brinn said while rolling up the cloth and stuffing it into a tall boot of supple leather, worn and scuffed, mud drying on it and peeling off in flakes. “Seems like an irritating inconvenience for a meagre reward.”

Darla leaned forward and pushed the plate aside, the wailing of hunger in her stomach nearly forgotten. “I’ve heard rumours,” she whispered, glancing around the room that seemed rather gloomy in the early hours of the morning, looking for eavesdroppers and finding none. “Unbecoming tittle-tattle, if you will, that must surely be nonsense, from strangers who have travelled through darker parts of these lands. The talk is that a necromancer has taken up residence in the old fortress of Dol Guldur and that packs of orcs are flocking to it.”

Brinn nearly choked on a gulp of her ale and Darla didn’t like the long and slow breath she took, or the way her shoulders fell and dipped low underneath the invisible amount of pressure that seemed to rest on them. Those calloused hands found a loose stem amongst the bushel of sugared grapes and started playing with it absentmindedly, fiddling, twitching, touching, fingers picking and picking and picking at themselves, eyes flickering restlessly.

She seemed nervous and that caused Darla’s stomach to twist itself into knots, it made her chest feel tight, lungs pressing against her ribcage, as if her skin was unable to stretch wide enough around her torso. She had never seen the Snake-Eye nervous before.

“It’s not nothing then?” Darla asked, frowning as she watched the woman shake her head.

“Fuck,” Brinn cursed, stealing a grape from the plate and popping it into her mouth before she licked the sugar from her fingers. “I must be off, I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”

“You want this cheese?” Darla wondered. “The innkeeper must be a lunatic with all his tall tales, it’s barely edible.”

The Snake-Eye laughed and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore that she had the empty gaze of a predator - intelligent and vicious - or that her face was so horribly disfigured, because the uncharacteristic smile that curled up half of her mutilated mouth was sweeter than honey and softened her features into something that could almost be called pretty.

Perhaps the gatekeeper was right after all, there’s strange folk about these parts.

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