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luckynumber-8 · 1 year

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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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ebaeschnbliah · 2 years

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They had been a fortnight on the way when the weather changed. The wind suddenly fell and then veered round to the south. The swift-flowing clouds lifted and melted away, and the sun came out, pale and bright. There came a cold clear dawn at the end of a long stumbling night-march. The travellers reached a low ridge crowned with ancient holly-trees whose grey-green trunks seemed to have been built out of the very stone of the hills. Their dark leaves shone and their berries glowed red in the light of the rising sun.

Away in the south Frodo could see the dim shapes of lofty mountains ...

... that seemed now to stand across the path that the Company was taking. At the left of this high range rose three peaks; the tallest and nearest stood up like a tooth tipped with snow; its great, bare, northern precipice was still largely in the shadow, but where the sunlight slanted upon it, it glowed red.

Gandalf stood at Frodo's side and looked out under his hand. `We have done well,' he said. `We have reached the borders of the country that Men call Hollin; many Elves lived here in happier days, when Eregion was its name. Five-and-forty leagues as the crow flies we have come, though many long miles further our feet have walked. The land and the weather will be milder now, but perhaps all the more dangerous.'

`Dangerous or not, a real sunrise is mighty welcome,' said Frodo, throwing back his hood and letting the morning light fall on his face.

'But the mountains are ahead of us,' said Pippin. `We must have turned eastwards in the night.'

'No,' said Gandalf. 'But you see further ahead in the clear light. Beyond those peaks the range bends round south-west. There are many maps in Elrond's house, but I suppose you never thought to look at them?'

`Yes I did, sometimes,' said Pippin, `but I don't remember them. Frodo has a better head for that sort of thing.'

`I need no map,' said Gimli, who had come up with Legolas, and was gazing out before him with a strange light in his deep eyes. `There is the land where our fathers worked of old, and we have wrought the image of those mountains into many works of metal and of stone, and into many songs and tales. They stand tall in our dreams: Baraz, Zirak, Shathûr.

`Only once before have I seen them from afar in waking life, but I know them and their names, for under them lies Khazad-dûm, the Dwarrowdelf, that is now called the Black Pit, Moria in the Elvish tongue. Yonder stands Barazinbar, the Redhorn, cruel Caradhras; and beyond him are Silvertine and Cloudyhead: Celebdil the White, and Fanuidhol the Grey, that we call Zirak-zigil and Bundushathûr.

`There the Misty Mountains divide, and between their arms lies the deep-shadowed valley which we cannot forget: Azanulbizar, the Dimrill Dale, which the Elves call Nanduhirion.'

`It is for the Dimrill Dale that we are making,' said Gandalf. `If we climb the pass that is called the Redhorn Gate, under the far side of Caradhras, we shall come down by the Dimrill Stair into the deep vale of the Dwarves. There lies the Mirrormere, and there the River Silverlode rises in its icy springs.'

`Dark is the water of Kheled-zâram,' said Gimli, `and cold are the springs of Kibil-nâla. My heart trembles at the thought that I may see them soon.'

`May you have joy of the sight, my good dwarf l' said Gandalf. 'But whatever you may do, we at least cannot stay in that valley. We must go down the Silverlode into the secret woods, and so to the Great River, and then ...'

He paused.

'Yes, and where then?' asked Merry.

'To the end of the journey ... in the end,' said Gandalf. 'We cannot look too far ahead. Let us be glad that the first stage is safely over.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Ring goes South

#the lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #the ring goes south #jrr tolkien #gandalf #aragorn #boromir #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #bill the pony #legolas #gimli #movie pics #peter jackson

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samsanglebuc · 1 year

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Blessures d'amour

IL EST DES BLESSURES QUE L’ON NE PEUT ENTIÈREMENT GUÉRIR [SdA L6, VII]

Gimli

Gimli pleurait ouvertement. - Mon dernier regard a été pour ce qui était le plus beau, dit-il à son compagnon Legolas. Désormais, je ne qualifierai plus rien de beau, si ce n'est son cadeau. Il porta la main à sa poitrine. - Dites-moi, Legolas, pourquoi me suis-je joint à cette Quête? Je ne savais guère où gisait le principal danger ! Elrond disait vrai quand il déclarait que nous ne pouvions prévoir ce que nous trouverions sur notre route. Le danger que je redoutais était le tourment dans les ténèbres, et il ne m'a pas retenu. Mais je ne serais pas venu si j'avais connu celui de la lumière et de la joie. J'ai maintenant reçu ma pire blessure dans ce départ, dusse-je même aller cette nuit droit au Seigneur Ténébreux. Hélas pour Gimli fils de Gloïn ! [SdA L2, VIII]

Caradhras le Cruel se fit tant menaçant

Que Gimli le Nain dut détourner son chemin.

D'affronter en Moria la Ténèbre est il temps ?

Quand son guide l'on perd en un gouffre lointain ?

Et maintenant nous devons pénétrer dans le Bois d'Or, dites-vous. Mais nous avons entendu parler de cette terre périlleuse en Gondor, et l'on dit que peu de ceux qui y entrent en ressortent, et de ceux là, aucun ne s'est échappé indemne. [SdA L2, VI]

Quand dans les montagnes les Nains éveillèrent le mal

La douleur frappa alors la Lórien des Fleurs

Nul nain en Lothlórien quand bien soit il loyal

Car aux jours sombres ils apportèrent le malheur

Et quel cadeau un Nain demanderait-il aux Elfes? demanda Galadriel, se tournant vers Gimli. - Aucun, Madame, répondit Gimli. Il me suffit d'avoir vu la Dame des Galadhrim et d'avoir entendu ses douces paroles. [SdA L2, VIII]

Oh oui sombre est l'eau du Kheled-Zâram

Froides les sources du Kibilnâla,

En la Moria, à Khazad-Dûm !

Des salles de pierre aux mille pilliers

Pour un roi sur son trône ciselé

En la Moria, à Khazad-Dûm !

Aux jours anciens avant des rois la chute

Quand se turent marteau harpiste et luth.

Je ne désire rien, Dame Galadriel, dit Gimli, s'inclinant profondément et balbutiant. Rien, sauf Peut-être s'il m'est permis de demander, que dis-je, de nommer un seul fil de vos cheveux, qui surpassent l'or de la terre comme les étoiles surpassent les gemmes de la mine. Je ne demande pas un tel don. Mais vous m'avez ordonné de nommer mon désir [SdA L2, VIII]

Montés dans un cristal, trois de vos cheveux d'or

En mémoire de ce que vous me dîtes alors

Seront le gage d'amitié dès maintenant

Que je voudrais chérir jusqu'à la fin des temps

Mais si l'espoir n'avorte pas, je vous le dis, Gimli fils de Gloïn, vos mains déborderont d'or, et pourtant l'or n'aura aucune prise sur vous. [SdA L2, VIII]

Quand je serais comme Dain fabuleusement riche,(1)

Je garderai le souvenir de Sa Beauté.

Si je pouvais comme Bombur ne jamais manger chiche,(2)

Rien ne surpasserait le souvenir de Sa Beauté.

La nuque roide et je me dresse, grandi par mon orgueil,(3)

Je ne veux rien d'autre que le souvenir de Sa Beauté.

Des Grottes Scintillantes peut se régaler mon oeil,(4)

Mais je n'ai plus que le souvenir de Sa Beauté.

J'étais serviteur de Galadriel, qui est partie

J'étais ami de Legolas, mais il se lassa

J'étais Ami des Elfes, qui ne sont plus.(5)

(1) Il fut toutefois intéressé d'apprendre que Dain était toujours Roi sous la Montagne, qu'il était maintenant vieux (ayant passé sa deux cent cinquantième année), vénérable et fabuleusement riche.[SdA L2, I]

(2) Ce dernier était maintenant si gros qu'il ne pouvait plus se mouvoir de son lit à la table et qu'il fallait six jeunes nains pour le soulever.[SdA L2, I]

(3)La peste soit des Nains et de leur nuque roide! Dit Legolas. [SdA L2, VI]

(4)Après la chute de Sauron, Gimli conduisit au sud une partie du peuple des Nains d’Erebor, et là-bas devint Seigneur des Grottes Scintillantes. [SdA App A III]

(5)Bien connu était Gimli, le fils de Glóin, [...] Il fut réputé Ami des Elfes, en raison de la tendre amitié qui existait entre lui et Legolas, le fils du Roi Thranduil, et de sa révérente admiration pour la Dame Galadriel.[SdA app A, III]

IL EST DES BLESSURES QUE L’ON NE PEUT ENTIÈREMENT GUÉRIR [SdA L6, VII]

Bilbo

Pendant de trop longues années, Bilbo a été blessé, petit à petit par l'Anneau.

« Mais je me sens tout maigre, détiré en quelque sorte, si vous voyez ce que je veux dire: Comme du beurre qu'on a gratté sur une trop grande tartine. »(1)

Sa force intérieure, sa nature ne sont pas adaptées à cette charge.

« L'anneau est à moi je vous dis. A moi personnellement. Mon trésor, oui, mon trésor. »(1)

Insidieusement le Mal agi, comme il l'a déjà fait pour Gollum.

« Chaque mot que vous prononcez le montre clairement. L'anneau a une bien trop grande prise sur vous. Abandonnez-le! »(1)

Mais même après l'avoir abandonné, volontairement bien qu'avec l'aide précieuse de son ami Gandalf, il reste encore une « marque noire »(2) en Bilbo, que seul le séjour en Aman pourra guérir(3).

Mais il est une autre blessure qui se cache derrière celle infligée par les Ténèbres. Une blessure sans laquelle Bilbo n'aurait jamais été capable de prendre un chemin d'ombres, qui le conduirait un jour à apparaître aux yeux de son cher neveu comme « un petit être ridé, au visage avide, qui tendait des mains osseuses et tâtonnantes »(4), cambrioleur cherchant à lui dérober l'Anneau.

Cette blessure, c'est celle de l'Aventure, de l'appel de Faërie.

La vie de Bilbo se serait elle réalisée totalement sans qu'il fasse l'expérience de la "pure Elfitude" et qu'il ait la possibilité d'entendre les légendes et les histoires complètes dont les fragments l'avaient tellement enchanté ?(5)

Et Bilbo ne s'était jamais marié, car il voulait être libre de partir lorsque surviendrait la chance, ou lorsqu'il aurait rassemblé son courage.(6)

(1) [SdA L1, I]

(2) Bilbo est parti également. Sans aucun doute, pour achever le plan dû à Gandalf en personne. Celui-ci avait une grande affection pour Bilbo, remontant à l'enfance du Hobbit. Sa compagnie était vraiment nécessaire au bien-être de Frodo – il est difficile d'imaginer un Hobbit, même passé par les expériences qu'avait connues Frodo, être vraiment heureux même dans un paradis terrestre sans un compagnon de sa propre espèce, et Bilbo était la personne que Frodo aimait le plus. Mais Bilbo avait également besoin de cette faveur, et il la méritait pour lui-même. Il portait encore la marque de l'Anneau, qui avait besoin d'être définitivement enlevée: un reste d'orgueil, et de possessivité. Bien sûr il était âgé et son esprit un peu confus, mais c'est encore un signe de la "marque noire" lorsqu'il demande à Fondcombe: "qu'est-il advenu de mon anneau, que tu avais emporté, Frodo ?"; et lorsqu'on lui rappelle ce qui s'est passé, sa réponse spontanée est:"Quel dommage ! [...] J'aurais aimé le revoir." [L246]

(3)Toutefois, dans cette histoire, on suppose qu'il peut y avoir quelques rares exceptions ou aménagements (supposition légitime ? Il semble toujours y avoir des exceptions) ; certains "mortels", qui ont joué un grand rôle dans les affaires elfiques, peuvent donc passer avec les Elfes au pays des Elfes.[L154]

Quant à Frodo et autres mortels, ils ne pouvaient résider en Aman que pour une période limitée – qu'elle soit brève ou longue. Les Valar n'avaient ni le pouvoir ni le droit de leur conférer "l'immortalité". Leur séjour était un "purgatoire", mais de paix et de guérison, et ils finiraient par partir (mourir de leur propre libre arbitre et désir) vers une destination dont les elfes ne savaient rien. [L325]

(4) [SdA L2, II]

(5) [L246]

J'appris qu'il ne s'était jamais marié. Je trouvais ça curieux, bien que je crusse comprendre pourquoi ; et la raison que je soupçonnais n'était pas celle que me fournirent la plupart des Hobbits: qu'il s'était trouvé tout jeune à la tête d'une grande fortune, et son propre maître. Non, je devinais qu'il avait voulu demeurer "libre" pour une autre raison, bien plus profonde et qui lui était propre, une raison qu'il ne comprenait pas lui même – ou se refusait à reconnaître, car elle l'effrayait. Il voulait cependant être libre de partir lorsque surviendrait la chance, ou lorsqu'il aurait rassemblé son courage. Je me souvenais comme il me harcelait de questions lorsqu'il était gamin, sur les Hobbits qui un beau jour "s'en étaient allés", comme on disait dans la Comté. Deux, au moins, de ses oncles du côté Took, l'avaient fait. [CLI 3A, III]

IL EST DES BLESSURES QUE L’ON NE PEUT ENTIÈREMENT GUÉRIR [SdA L6, VII]

Frodo

Enfant, je m'émerveillais des légendes elfiques que nous racontait oncle Bilbo. Il était parti à l'Aventure, franchissant les montagnes, affrontant les dragons et ramenant des trésors. Je l'aurais bien suivi quand il partit de nouveau, me laissant seul avec l'Anneau.

Partirais-je un jour, moi aussi ?

Quels sont ces espaces blancs au delà des frontières sur les cartes de la Comté ?

Et quelle est donc cette inquiétude qui habite les étrangers qui vont et traversent la Comté ?

Les Elfes que j'ai rencontré s'en vont vers la mer ; mais où naviguent ils ?

Mais je ne suis pas parti. J'ai fui, emmenant l'Anneau.

Je fut poursuivi par les Cavaliers Noirs et un arbre aux racines de colère a tenté de me noyer.

Tom ! Qu'as tu fait de mon Anneau ?

Belle dame Baie d'Or ! O toi, roseau pris du vivant étang ! Charme merveilleux mais point étrange.

Vous les Elfes dont le charme aigu et sublime perce mon cœur ! Lórien, foulerais-je de nouveau tes vertes pelouses ?

J’ai été blessé par poignard, piqûre et dent, et par un long fardeau. Où trouverai-je le repos ?

L’attrapant par la barbe, Baie d'Or attira le Vieux Tom en sa demeure,

Et Grands-Pas fut tout à la nuit étoilée d'Arwen.

Qui me retiendra ?

Riante vallée de la Comté ; tu fut sauvée, mais pas pour moi.

J'ai été le M. Baggins de Cul-de-sac, et quelques instants je revendiquais mien le Précieux Anneau ;

mais il a disparu à jamais, et maintenant tout est sombre et vide.

Frodo fut envoyé, ou autorisé à passer la Mer pour être soigné – si cela était possible, avant sa mort. Il devait finalement "partir": aucun mortel ne pouvait, ou ne peut, résider sur terre pour toujours, ou dans le Temps. Sa traversée était donc à la fois un purgatoire et une récompense, pour un temps: une période de réflexion et de paix, et pour acquérir une compréhension plus exacte de sa situation dans le mesquin et le grandiose, période toujours passée dans le Temps au milieu de la beauté naturelle d'"Arda Immarie", la Terre qui n'a pas été souillée par le Mal. [L246]

IL EST DES BLESSURES QUE L’ON NE PEUT ENTIÈREMENT GUÉRIR [SdA L6, VII]

Laurent

Je m'en souviens, un mardi. Je découvre alors une assemblée circulaire, dans une quelconque salle polyvalente. Des visages rayonnants, jeunes et vieux chantant dans un débordement de joie,(1) comme si c'était plus simple et naturel que de parler.(2) Et quand les mots ne suffisaient plus, montaient en gémissements inexprimables des chants en langue.(3) Pouvais tu savoir, chère amie de mes parents, femme de lettres et de savoir, le bien que tu me ferais pour toujours avec « l'Enfant qui disait n'importe quoi » ?(4) Je me mis aussitôt à chanter, goûtant comme jamais encore à ce qui unit et élève tous les hommes.(5) Et le Maître de la maison ne tarderait pas.(6)

Depuis quelques mois j'étais sous un charme profond et proche de mon cœur de mortel, merveilleux sans être étrange, d'une vie en-chantée.(7) La religion formelle m'intéressait fort peu ; quand vint La Rencontre. Source de ma Joie, me voici l'épousée. Bien que rien n'ai paru changer, plus rien ne serait comme avant. Je vivais, mais j'ai rencontré la Vie ; aimé de mes parents, j'aimerai femme et enfants, et pourtant : me voici devant cette Personne, Debout, Vivante, qui m'aime d'un amour absolu, infini. Alors je T'aime en retour, mais d'un amour qui ne trouvera sa plénitude qu'au bout de mon pèlerinage sur la terre.

« Hélas ! il est des blessures que l’on ne peut entièrement guérir » [SdA L6, VII]

Je T'aime si peu, si mal, d'un amour marqué par l'égoïsme, l'orgueil, l'inconstance. Quand T'aimerais-je totalement, parfaitement ? Quand donc l'humanité entière sera-t-elle unie à Toi, comblée de Ta tendresse et ravie de Ta Beauté ?

Alors chaque jour qui passe et je meurs de ce que je ne meurs pas.(8) Car en mourant, à la Fin ou chaque jour je peux tout donner, tout me donner à Toi.

Suis je plus digne du Ciel que de la terre,(9) au point d'être emporté par un char de feu comme Élie ?(10)

Comme j'aimerais danser à moitié nu comme David, devant l'Arche et sous la fenêtre de Mikal !(11)

Mais alors que les étoiles fleurirent dans le ciel, j'épousai la vie, car la nuit aussi sera belle et bénie.(12)

(1) Jeunes et vieux se réjouiront ensemble [Jr 31, 13]

(2) Les convives s'aperçurent soudain qu'ils chantaient gaiement, comme si ce fut plus facile et plus naturel que de parler. [SdA L1, VII]

(3) Bien plus, l’Esprit Saint vient au secours de notre faiblesse, car nous ne savons pas prier comme il faut. L’Esprit lui-même intercède pour nous par des gémissements inexprimables. [Rm 8, 26]

Il s'arrêta soudain et se mit à bégayer, succombant à la surprise de s'entendre prononcer pareilles choses. [SdA L1, VII]

(4) « L'Enfant qui disait n'importe quoi » d'André Dhôtel

(5) Lors d'une surprenante rencontre avec un membre du groupe Noir Désir, nous nous sommes entendu, lui le « rockeur pur et dur » et moi le « catho mystique moine marié », sur le fait que le chant est ce qui transcende l'Homme.

(6) Voici une heureuse réunion! Prenez place et attendez le Maître de la maison! Il ne tardera pas.[SdA L1, VII]

(7) Dit enfin Frodo, le cœur gonflé d'une joie qu'il ne comprenait pas. II se tenait là, comme il lui était arrivé parfois de rester, enchanté par de belles voix elfiques, mais le charme sous lequel il se trouvait à présent était différent: le plaisir était moins aigu et moins sublime, mais plus profond et plus proche d'un cœur de mortel, merveilleux et pourtant point étrange [SdA L1, VII]

(8) Ste Thérèse d'Avila

(9) Ste Thérèse de Lisieux, parlant de ses parents

(10) Ils étaient en train de marcher tout en parlant lorsqu’un char de feu, avec des chevaux de feu, les sépara. Alors, Élie monta au ciel dans un ouragan. [2R2, 11]

(11) David, vêtu d’un pagne de lin, dansait devant le Seigneur, en tournoyant de toutes ses forces. David et tout le peuple d’Israël firent monter l’arche du Seigneur parmi les ovations, au son du cor.Or, comme l’arche du Seigneur entrait dans la Cité de David, Mikal, fille de Saül, se pencha par la fenêtre : elle vit le roi David qui sautait et tournoyait devant le Seigneur. Dans son cœur, elle le méprisa. [2Sa 6, 14]

(12) Et Frodon, la voyant approcher, rayonnante dans le soir avec des étoiles au front et environnée d’une douce fragrance, fut grandement émerveillé, et il dit à Gandalf : « Je comprends enfin la raison de votre attente ! Ceci est l’achèvement. Dorénavant, ce ne sera pas seulement le jour qui sera aimé, mais la nuit aussi sera belle et bénie, et toute peur en sera bannie ! » [SdA L6, V]

#lotr frodo #lotr gimli #bilbo baggins #tolkien #mystique

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ao3feed-tolkien · 2 years

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The Wanderer of the Woods

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Rdw7KpX

by weathertop16

The cold cruel wind ciolently whipped against her face. Caradhras' cruelty was unrelenting. She couldn't feel the tip of her nose anymore, and had stopped feeling her toes long ago. She enviously glared at Glorfindel, who was simultaneously carrying Frodo and Merry and Legolas who had come back from going to 'find the Sun!' as he had put it. Both of them were walking ontop of the snow, leaving nothing but shallow footprints in their wake. 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴. Andriel stared down at her feet, which were knee deep in the snow and unpleasantly numb. 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴.

All Andriel had wanted to do was go home, back to Loth Lorien. But then, along the way she met the Fellowship and got dragged into a huge mess that she did not want to be part of.

Words: 1856, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Half-Elf Character(s), Glorfindel (Tolkien), Ecthelion II, is mentioned but not in the story per se, Aragorn | Estel, Arwen Undómiel, Elrond Peredhel, Elladan (Tolkien), Elrohir (Tolkien), Gandalf | Mithrandir, Frodo Baggins, Sam Gamgee, Pippin Took, Merry Brandybuck, Boromir (Son of Denethor II), Faramir (Son of Denethor II), Gimli (Son of Glóin), Legolas Greenleaf, Galadriel | Artanis, Lindir (Tolkien), Celeborn (Tolkien), Haldir of Lothlórien, Rúmil of Lothlórien, Orophin (Tolkien), Original Elf Character(s), Original Human Character(s), Éomer Éadig, Éowyn (Tolkien), Gollum | Sméagol, Bilbo Baggins, Maeglin | Lómion, eeew not Maeglin

Relationships: Glorfindel (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Mentioned Aragorn | Estel / Arwen Undómiel, Aragorn | Estel & Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Meddling Valar, Meddling Wizard(s), BAMF Arwen Undómiel, Love Triangles, Eventual Smut, Tenth Walker, Sort Of, Valinor, Rivendell | Imladris, Plot Twists, Half-Elves, The Noldor

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Rdw7KpX

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

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matrose · 2 years

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oh caves and mountains and the darkness as something with their own minds as something that is alive…

#CRUEL CARADHRAS….#having many thoughts much thinking much pondering will make another post about this related to dwarves later on #gimli is the only one that refers to caradhras as an active entity (soemthing that boromir almost immediately adapts)#and the text supports this i think #like the trees in the old forest these mountains are alive! and maybe not super nice #caradhras has been cruel for longer than sauron has dwelt in middle earth…!!!!!!?#THE MYTHOLOGY OF LIVING CAVES AND MOUNTAINSSSSSS

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fishfingersandscarves · 3 years

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cruel cruel caradhras

#my art #fishfingersandscarves #lotr #tolkien #comic #gimli #gimli gloinson #pippin took #gandalf #legolas #the ring goes south #just a leetle scene!

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telemna-hyelle · 3 years

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An Old Man in a Battered Hat

I wrote something for the Lu Lotr AU!

This is probably the format I’m going to go with; a collection of one-shots in the universe, as I don’t want to basically rewrite all of LOTR.

Probably, anyway.

Anyway, this takes place somewhere between ‘Rivenmere’ (aka Rivendell) and the ascent up “Snowpeak” (aka Caradhras. Name not final, could be Mount Lanayru. I’m not certain)

Just a little conversation between the boys.

“Wait, Time,” Wind piped up curiously from by the fire. “Are you an elf? Or a man? You’ve never said and I can’t tell.”

“He’s not an elf, I’d say!” Wild laughed. “…Probably.”

“He’s far too old to be a man!” Warriors countered. “And he’s far too tall to be a dwarf.”

Legend shot the man a dirty look. Four quickly cut in before blood could be shed. “And he’s certainly far too tall to be a hobbit!”

Time huffed in amusement around the stem of his pipe, eye twinkling at the youngest of their number from underneath the wide brim of his hat. “Oh? Isn’t it obvious?”

Seven stares bored into the man, incredulous. Four, however, noticed that Twilight didn’t look up; instead the ranger renewed his focus on the sword in his lap.

Curious.

Time burst into laughter at the looks he received. After he subsided he stuck his pipe back into his mouth, puffed a few times thoughtfully, and said, “All right, all right, I’ll tell you.”

Silence hung over the camp. Seven people leaned forward eagerly, breaths bated in curiosity.

“I’m not either.”

Seven groans rang out. Time huffed in amusement again, but he held up a hand. “Wait, wait, let me finish! I swear, the impatience of the young…”

“We wouldn’t be so ‘impatient’ if you didn’t stall for dramatic effect all the bloody time!” Legend piped in grumpily. Time ignored this. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Wind, who was vibrating eagerly at the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity.

“I’m what is called an Ithron, or an Istar as the Noldor or well-learnéd would say; one of the Istari. It’s often translated as ‘wizard’ in Common, though that isn’t strictly correct,” He said with a huffed grumble, and Twilight rolled his eyes fondly. Apparently it was an old complaint.

“So, if you’re not an elf or a man, how old are you?” Hyrule asked with a mischievous grin, sensing weakness.

Time barked out the laugh. “Well! I’m not quite so old or powerful as the old head of my order,” and his eye gleamed dangerously at the mention of the traitor, “but even among us Ithryn there is a difference of make-up. I’m not quite the same as him, you see.”

Twilight was focusing on his dagger again, Four noted.

There was something hovering in the back of his mind; something there that he couldn’t quite place. Something Ezlo had said? What was it…?

Sky spoke up before he could place it.

“Well?” Sky poked. “So how old?

“Not as old as the others of my order, but still very old.” Time said, and puffed on his pipe as he stared into the fire. The view of the flames seemed to spread to the darkness behind his closed eyelid; but these flames were brighter, taller, more fierce and far more cruel.

Even now, two ages later, he could hear the roars and screams; the crash of towers falling, the near silent-tears of his wife and son.

Slowly, he blew out a ring of smoke.

“Very old indeed.”

“…that’s still not an answer, old man,” Warriors complained. “You always do this.”

#Lu Lotr Au #lu time #lu time is gandalf... and someone else #*waggles eyebrows*#lu four #lu twilight #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu wild #lu warriors #lu legend #lu sky #linked universe #linkeduniverse #loz #lotr #my fanfics #tellie writes stuff #tw tobacco mention

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