alightindarkplaces

[alightindarkplaces]

🥴🥰💕💕💕

Aragorn: Then you shall have my sword

Legolas: And my bow!

Gimli: And my axe!

Boromir: And me. You get all of me. Boromir the Great. What a great addition to the party. *Flexes* all this, you got it, son. This is gonna be awesome. 

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I don't know who needs to hear this, but Frodo is the boss. He likes being in charge/in control. No, he doesn't secretly have a subby side. He is a power bottom and a brat and the only time you will see him subby is when he's been corrupted and has no will beyond a desire for the Ring.

[alightindarkplaces]

A flaw: Frodo has a poor opinion of his own worth :c

prompt.

Frodo looks around at everything else and wrings his hands together. "I don't... I don't know what you mean by that. No... That's not true." Still he doesn't make eye contact.

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Frodo is not the most accurate judge of himself. He believes he is less brave than he was before the Ring, but I think his courage is just more reserved, and especially his violence has become far more reserved. A twenty-something Frodo would throw hands very quickly, but after everything, he won't unless it's to protect someone, and generally he is the one being protected, so it doesn't often come up. He is more prone to cowering rather than drawing steel, but he is also more aware of his own limitations, and has a deeper understanding of how dangerous the world really is. I don't know if he's truly less brave, maybe he is, but I think he's just more scared and the same amount of brave.

[alightindarkplaces]

Point out a flaw of my muse and see their reaction!

[alightindarkplaces]

Making more biblically accurate Frodo picrews

I had a conversation with Frodo that went like this:

Me: You used to have white skin, so why can't your eyes be brown..?

Frodo: You only thought I was white, but you were wrong.

Me: So why can't I be wrong about the eyes?

Frodo: Because you're not! They were always blue.

At least in this part of reality, his eyes were always spooky blue, not warm inviting brown. But I bet they look very dark in dim lighting, especially with those big owl pupils...

[alightindarkplaces]

Writing replies and going "did I say that already???" I think I might have, but when?

[alightindarkplaces]

🍸+ Gandalf ruffles Frodo's hair

Frodo turns his bleary gaze up, blinks slowly, and smiles bright as the sun. "Do that again. And then never stop." He flops forward onto his arms, folded over the table, and begins snoring softly.

[alightindarkplaces]

🍸+ "Would you be interested in a romantic outing with me? A little meal perhaps, in the forest?"

So great is Frodo's shock that he nearly topples out of his chair. In his desperate scramble to remain upright, he does knock over his drink and spill wine all over himself. "Well, who wouldn't?!" he says a little sharply. "But why on earth would you want me? Of all people - really!" He hurriedly tries to clean himself off with a spare rag and pretends not to be mortified.

[alightindarkplaces]

🍸+ who's hotter, Aragorn or Boromir?

Frodo squints very hard, his concentration palpable, and takes another sip from his mug before answering. "The issue I take here is with the question itself. That's like asking which tastes better; breakfast or supper. They're all good meals, I'll have you know. But if you were to ask which is more filling, then perhaps I might have a better answer for you..." He trails off, looking away into the distance of some unseen memory.

"Aragorn is fair, after he's cleaned up, but I think I prefer him with all the rough edges, as it were... But Boromir... He is incautious to a fault and I can't help but admire that. He is made of rough edges and polished steel and..." he hiccups, and his gaze glosses over with a fine mist. "I would choose him all over again if I could... If only I'd had more courage back then..."

Shaking off the sorrow, Frodo straightens up in his seat and drains his mug. "Well, I can't say which is more attractive. They're both as handsome as any man could be. But Aragorn and I have one thing and it's quite another with Boromir... Or it was... Now I don't think I shall ever see either of them again."

[alightindarkplaces]

Send 🍸+ a question and my muse will answer while drunk.

[alightindarkplaces]

Frodo has been quiet lately, but that's not unusual. He prefers to be moisturized and in his lane. He's content with being alone, and a lot more comfortable with that than the alternative of sharing the fullness of his heart with another. He shares in bits and pieces and keeps the rest for himself, safeguarded in the quiet corners where he can rest out of sight and undisturbed. There is no danger of being hurt if you never leave your shell. It's comfortable on the inside.

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Somehow, it did not occur to Frodo that he might be asked the same. He hadn't really meant to ask in the first place, or he hadn't planned to, but the words came suddenly and easily, and then there was no going back. His gaze lingered on the door, as if still expecting to see him there, and brought his hand up to rest over the protective shield of Faramir's embrace.

The emptiness of that quiet room filled his heart; full of his memory it was, yet lacking all the more for what was missed. There was still so much left unsaid.

"I am not sure..." he said at length, but the truth was that he did not believe these words would bring comfort to either of them. What use did they have for his apologies now, when the worst had already happened? What balm was in forgiveness to one already dead?

⪼ @alightindarkplaces // cont.

Faramir turned his face slightly at the question, but did not look at Frodo.  Instead, his gaze – that strange, wounded thing – remained fixed ahead, towards nothing.  The door was shut, the bed remained unslept in, there was no shadow here but theirs.  Still, the air felt charged, like the moment before thunder tolls.

The room answered with its silence.

What would he say?

The thought bloomed painfully within him, slow and petalled, and for a moment he said nothing.  His throat worked miserably around the weight of it.  Fingers unclenched his fingers from where they had curled against the seat, bone-pale impressions left in his skin.  He drew in a long, deliberate breath. The kind taken before the judgement of council, or at the edge of a grave.

At last, he spoke.

“I would ask if he was in pain,” he said quietly, thoughtfully.  “Not when he died, but before.  In the days that led him from us.  I would ask what shadows, if any, clung to him.”

He let the words drift.  Then, wordless, he reached for a small object resting on the shelf above the desk – a carving of a ship, rough-hewn from driftwood, shaped long ago on some idle summer patrol.  A gift for no-one.  A fragment of a day now lost to time.  Faramir touched it lightly, then let his hand fall away, empty.

“I would ask if he knew how dearly I loved him.  Not as a soldier loves his captain, nor merely as a brother born of the same blood – but as a boy who once trailed his shadow down every sunlit corridor, certain it would always be there.”

At last, he looked to Frodo.  The other’s smallness did not render him fragile – no, there was something enduring in his form, the very spirit that likely drew Mithrandir to him.

“I do not know if I ever said it plainly beyond the careless honesty of boyhood,” Faramir murmured, and a fissure broke in his voice.  “We were Men of Gondor.  We spoke in gesture, in loyalty, in obedience.  I hope he knew.  I hope he understood that with his passing, the best parts of me were buried, too.”

Another breath passed his lips. Shallow, uneven, almost a sob.

“And you, Frodo – what would you say, if he walked through that door now?”

He did not wait for an answer.  He did not need one.  Instead, he reached for him – wordlessly, tenderly – drawing the Hobbit close against the warm wall of his body, a shield against the cold silence of the room.

Boromir would not return.  The bed would remain made, the sword on the wall unsheathed.  For this moment, grief had company.  For this moment, the dead was remembered in the soft language of mourning – spoken not with trumpets, but with hands held gently, with eyes that held the weight of love with nowhere to land.

[alightindarkplaces]

If Frodo ever saw someone with visible abs, he would be startled and shocked and try very hard to feed them cake and wine.

[alightindarkplaces]

Frodo's love life is in shambles. He already had intimacy issues before the quest destroyed his self esteem, but afterwards? He doesn't want to subject someone he loves to dealing with him and all his issues. He hates to feel helpless, and he hates to burden others, so he's in a truly terrible position as a chronically ill person with severe PTSD, where he does need to rely on others, and feels guilty for it the whole time. He does not see the value in himself, but rather feels wrung out and devoid of meaning. To his credit, he does love truly and deeply and very unselfishly, yet his way of caring for others is to remove the burden of himself from them, as quietly and gently as he can.

He knows his leaving will be painful, but I don't think he truly understands just how much people love and need him. Maybe it is a bit selfish. Maybe it's not possible to easily label things in this situation, but he doesn't want to be a weight around the necks of those he loves most. He couldn't stand it. So even if it was a real choice (not a choice between be dead sooner or later) to leave forever and go to the undying lands, he still would, even just so that he would no longer trouble them.

[alightindarkplaces]

by Roelie Steinmann

[alightindarkplaces]

I don't see book Frodo running away when Merry and Pippin are in immediate peril. That's the one thing he doesn't want to do more than anything. Would it be the smartest thing to try and fight a bunch of orcs? No. It would be incredibly stupid. But I think he would, if his people were in trouble. The whole story would have been different, maybe a lot worse, maybe not. But Frodo couldn't handle the guilt of running.