#aragorn whump

[erathene]

A Fool's Hope

Summary: Aragorn has returned to Helm's Deep, which is rushing to prepare for the arrival of Isengard's Uruk army. Unfortunately, recent events take a heavy toll on the future king of Gondor, and you struggle with your own doubts as you try to pick up the pieces.

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: Aragorn & GN!Reader 

Warnings: Whump, loss of consciousness, nausea, Aragorn is Not A Well Man™.

Author's note: It has been years since I've written anything, and real life has been extra busy as I'm now a mum to my 16 month old son. Now I'm starting to get some time back for my own hobbies I've started writing a few fics. Enjoy! 😚

..........................

Thirty sacks of grain, check.

Fifteen barrels of mead, check. 

Ten crates of carrots and twelve of cabbages, check.

Eight bushels of apples, check. 

The scratch of your quill against parchment could scarcely be heard over the hubbub of activity that was swelling through Helm's Deep. The fortress was in full preparation mode, readying for the battle that was to come. It seemed that every citizen had their own duty to fulfil; whether that be sharpening weapons at the grindstone, filling quivers with arrows or reinforcing the main gate.

Things were a little calmer here amongst the supplies and foodstuffs that had been amassed in recent weeks from the many arrivals to the fortress. Crates were neatly stacked one on top of the other whilst large oak barrels lined the thick stone wall. King Théoden had tasked you with tallying all of the rations that had been gathered together and ensuring their safe delivery to the Glittering Caves beyond the keep. To some, it may have appeared a simple task, with no true impact or merit. However, as Keeper of the Granary in Edoras, you knew all too well how plans for a siege could go disastrously awry should there not be adequate supplies to keep the troops fed and watered. The king himself would want to know the exact figures of every product stored, and most importantly how it could be stretched to cover the longest amount of time possible without his soldiers going hungry. It was a crucial part of the battle plans.

Consequently, every note you made on your parchment sheet was checked and re-checked, before the containers were carried off to the caves. The gravity and significance of the task at hand also kept your mind from dwelling on the thought of the thousands of Uruks which would soon be on the doorstep. You were no fighter, and had you not been kept busy with this charge, you might have found yourself completely overwhelmed with the anxiety of the battle ahead. 

"Those three sacks there can go next," you indicated to one of the youths who had been placed under your command for this task. "And ensure they are stored off the ground; we don't want spoiled grain on our hands." You watched as the boy nodded at your instructions and heaved a sack over his shoulder.

You turned back to your parchment paper, studying the values you had written. A few more calculations and you would be ready to present your findings back to the king and his war council, who were due to meet shortly for the final time. Presenting information to all the lords of Edoras may have intimidated some, but to you it seemed wholly insignificant compared to your apprehension of the conflict to come. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you glanced up quickly. Standing before you was Lord Aragorn, his gaze passing over the various containers that were held in the small area you were working in.

"My lord," you said as you bowed your head respectfully. "Is there something I can do for you?"

This was a paltry suggestion, for the man looked more than worse for wear. You had heard other folk speak of how he had been dragged off the cliff by one of the wolves of Isengard, and how he had ridden day and night to warn Théoden's people of the doom that was marching towards them. Yet nobody had spoken of his impairment. His complexion was pale beneath the dirt and grime of the skirmish and subsequent journey here, which also extended to his hair and clothing. A torn strip of cloth was tied around his upper arm, the crude bandage failing to fully cover an abrasion that was still red and raw underneath. His posture was irregular, likely caused by bruising beneath his garments and a cracked rib or two, and he gripped the hilt of his weapon as an old man would cling to a walking stick. As you took in his appearance, you found yourself morbidly surprised that he was still standing. 

"How are our supplies looking, Grainkeeper?" Aragorn asked, referring to you in the Common Tongue translation of your Rohirric title.

"Satisfactory, my lord," you replied quickly. "We won't be living in luxury, but I believe with careful management of our food stocks, we'll be able to see ourselves through at least a month of war or longer. The majority of the supplies have already been taken to the caves and stored securely. As you can see, we are about to move the final items," you gestured to the remaining crates of legumes and bushels of apples. You reported your findings to him as you would to King Théoden, taking the opportunity to see how the results would be received. 

"Good," he nodded. "That is good."

It didn't escape your attention how his grey eyes became glassy and unmoving as you gave your report, how his hand gripped the pommel of his sword with greater tension than before. "My lord, are you quite well?" you asked tentatively.

Aragorn blinked, returning from his reverie. "Well enough," he nodded with a forced smile. 

You felt less than convinced by his response. Nevertheless, he was a grown man, and it was not your place to fuss over him. With a pretence of curiosity to cover your underlying fears, you asked him about the preparations for the defence of the keep. Truth be told, you had been far too preoccupied in the makeshift open-air storeroom to take much notice of these activities.

"The reservists are being drawn behind the main wall, and archers will be positioned to support the keep," Aragorn said in a monotonous tone, as though he had repeated the battle plans over and over many times already. "King Théoden has sent his scouts to..." His sentence trailed off as he began to blink rapidly, reaching out to steady himself on one of the barrels of mead. Any remaining colour drained from his face as his breath came short and sharp.

Worry surged in your stomach for the man as he swayed dangerously on the spot. "My lord, you really should sit down. Here," you offered kindly, upturning an empty crate for him to use as a makeshift seat. "I'll fetch you some water." 

No sooner had you turned your back, there was an almighty crash as something went tumbling into the awaiting crates and barrels. You spun around on the spot and saw Aragorn sprawled on the floor, surrounded by upturned containers and stray carrots. A few apples rolled past the prone man whose limbs were haphazardly crumpled beneath him. Rushing to his side, you lifted back the mop of dark hair that lined his face; his eyes were half-lidded and his lips parted, as if he were trying to speak but his body was completely betraying him. You called his name, but there was no reaction. Pressing your fingers to his neck, you felt his racing heartbeat echoing in his veins beneath skin that was clammy to the touch. 

You called out to him again, the panic becoming evident in your voice. "Lord Aragorn, can you hear me?" You shook his shoulder vigorously in the hope of rousing him. Just as you were about to dash off to find help, you were rewarded when he let out a low, guttural moan.

"My lord?" 

You could just about make out the "M' fine," he mumbled into the floor. His fists clenched as began to push himself up to sitting, his hair falling over his facial features as he moved.

"Come, rest against the wall here." You gestured a few feet away where there was a gap between the mead barrels and crates. None of the colour had returned to his cheeks yet, and you fretted inwardly about whether he would lose consciousness again as you aided him. Soon enough, however, the man was resting against the cool stone, taking in deep and shaking breaths with his eyes firmly shut. 

You rushed to fill a spare flagon with water from a nearby jug, the liquid sloshing as you hurried back to Aragorn. The man opened one eye as you handed him the cup. "I'm fine," he repeated, seeing the concern etched on your face.

"I'm sure you are, my lord," you said grimly. "But it would lessen my worry to see you drink." 

Aragorn extended his hand towards the flagon, but seeing how he shook uncontrollably, you brought the cup to his lips instead. Slowly, he took a few small sips as the flagon tilted.

"Better?" you asked quietly.

"Aye. Thank you," he said. You helped him take a few more sips from the flagon, satisfied by the colouring that was slowly returning to his cheeks. 

Suddenly, another voice called over the barrels. "Lord Aragorn?"

You stood quickly, and saw the voice belonged to the captain of the king's guard, Háma. He looked slightly taken aback by your sudden appearance from behind several barrels. "Captain Háma, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I am looking for Lord Aragorn. King Théoden wishes to see him immediately."

You briefly looked down at Aragorn, who was still slumped behind the barrels. At first he caught your gaze with pleading grey eyes, before his eyelids fell and his head shifted lightly from side to side to convey his refusal. You understood; he wasn't ready, not yet. 

You feigned reaching for your parchment which had been abandoned on top of a nearby barrel, hoping Háma would not be suspicious of your downward glance. "I'm afraid I have not seen him, sir. Perhaps he has gone to the armoury?"

Háma's stern gaze was fixed on you for several moments, before he frowned with disappointment. "I have already looked there, but perhaps we missed each other. As you were, Grainkeeper." He departed the area, his armour and chainmail ringing as he walked.

As soon as the captain rounded the corner, you bent back down behind the storage containers to level with Aragorn.

"Thank you," he breathed. "I am not sure I could have faced the king right now. Not while I have no strength left in me." 

"That's quite alright, Lord Aragorn. Here," you gave him a polite smile before reaching out and offering one of the apples that had been thrown in his fall. 

Aragorn blanched at the sight of the fruit. "I'm not hungry," he grunted through gritted teeth. 

"You said it yourself, you are lacking strength." From your pocket you pulled a small knife, and holding the fruit in your palm you began to slowly remove the apple skin with the edge of the blade. "This should help you recover somewhat." You cut the skinned apple into pieces in your hand, handing the man a wedge. 

Aragorn took the apple piece, but paused for a good minute or two before it entered his mouth. He chewed slowly, grinding the fruit down into a pulp, before he swallowed with a grimace. He looked like he was trying very hard not to vomit. 

You searched for a topic of conversation to draw his focus away from his churning stomach. Unfortunately, the only subject brimming the surface of your thoughts was the feeling of impending doom waiting for the siege to begin; the same feeling you had largely ignored whilst you had been occupied by your work.

You blurted out a question that had been rattling around your mind before you could even consider whether it would be appropriate to ask. "Is it true? There are really ten thousand Uruks marching on us?" 

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. From the numbers I saw, Isengard is likely to be deserted."

You sighed, unable to mask your pessimism. "Ten thousand against three hundred. So there truly is no hope for us.."

"I disagree," said Aragorn quietly. "We still have hope." 

"Are we not fools to hope at all? Knowing what we are up against?"

"Nay," said Aragorn. "To hope is not foolish. We have a choice; to choose hope over fear. Choosing hope means choosing to believe that there are better days to come, if one has the courage to fight for it. That is not foolish in the slightest."

"No, I suppose not," you said, slightly surprised by the wisdom he demonstrated seemingly beyond his years. 

You suddenly heard your name being called from beyond the barrels. Rising to your feet once more, you saw the young man who had carried a sack of grain to the caves had returned. He stood obediently awaiting his next instructions, but you saw how his eyes curiously travelled around the chaos of upturned crates and loose vegetables that had appeared in his absence. "Never mind the mess now, boy," you shooed him away as soon as he held a crate of cabbages in his arms.  

"I should help you tidy up," Aragorn said firmly. "This is my doing after all."

"Are you sure, my lord?" You worried whether or not he should be standing so soon after his blackout.

"Yes. I insist," he said, slowly rising to his feet.

"That would be appreciated, thank you."

Together, you gathered up the provisions that had been thrown when the man had taken his tumble, and the chaos was soon reorganised back into neatly stacked crates. You looked around to see where you had left your parchment of notes, only to see the man holding them in his outstretched hand. 

"Remember; choose hope over fear," he said, touching your shoulder before taking his leave of you. 

His comment seemed to lighten the very air around you, the weight of complete helplessness clearing from your mind. You turned back to your parchment paper, feeling more resolved than ever to be a part of this final stand against evil, even if it was with a fool's hope.

[beechovenwhump]

OK for real u guys i need help.

What are some whump tropes you guys like to apply to more staunch, powerful whumpees? I'm talking leader of the pack types, like they're the one paying the ransom for their members yk?

They're the people I want to whump the most and there's just very little out there because they're difficult!!!

Like here's my issue:

Kidnapping them kind of works, but you kind of have to bend everything or slightly break a dynamic with whoever is normally the whumper because Kidnapping the big boss doesn't really make a lot of financial sense.

Hurting or torturing them in general doesn't work that well for information because if they're the leader then whumper might as well just kill them?

Sick fic is about all I can seem to think of for these guys and that doesn't really sate my thirst yk.

Pls let me know if you can think of any clever work-arounds, or what you use in your own writing 💖

[azaisya]

@just-another-linguist and @melestasflight both requested Fingon which was v exciting. Fingon is one of the characters that really stuck with me the first time I read the Silm, but I’ve never actually drawn him. In my mind this is like a Valinor-era Fingon!

[aceofwhump]

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

[just-a-little-whump]

[jumbled-messy-confused]

Fanart "Lord of the Rings" - Aragorn

Fanart "Lord of the Rings" - Aragorn

[kavasiriel]

This chapter: Eldarion talks to Namo

✨️🧝🏻‍♂️✨️

Eldarion was confused for only a moment before he realized he was the only one unaffected. His confusion turned to suffocating dread. Breathing through the sudden constriction in his chest, Eldarion steeled his nerves and bravely turned back around.

Namo did not blink as he studied the terrified mortal. Eldarion desperately wanted to turn away, to look anywhere but the abyss of that impermeable gaze. He felt himself weighed, graded, and dissected like the bodies in his father’s anatomy books. He was sure that he would be found wanting. The chill air prickled at his skin. He found that he could not move except to let his knees fold as he fell prostrate in terror, tearing his eyes from the Doomlord and cowering against the broken marble with a whimper.

[fangirl-erdariel]

Rating: Teen and Up Characters: Just Aragorn in the first chapter, Elrohir will also make an appearance in the second Summary: Aragorn is hunting an orc spy carrying information too valuable to allow in enemy hands, and the spy leads him to the deep, ancient halls of Moria. Soon Aragorn discovers that it is much harder to get out of Moria than it is to get into Moria. To make the matters worse, there are things far more dangerous than orcs lurking in the darkness of the abandoned city... - aka, a "So what happened to Aragorn on his first journey through Moria that made him so reluctant to go there a second time?" fic

[from-lothlorien-to-helms-deep]

A random, contextless snippet from that one Haldir-lives fic I never finished:

He set the cup on the stool to kneel beside the cot, looking gently into the semi-opened eyes. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

“…a thousand orcs…attacked me…” Aragorn leaned closer to catch the airy words, his face flooded with confusion and worry.

Eyelashes fluttered, gaze refocused. A lopsided smile formed on the bloodless lips. “I feel like crap.”

[angsty-violet]

Working to Exhaustion

After the war, after they had triumphed against Sauron, the Fellowship had been disbanded. There was simply no need for it anymore. It had been six years since the great war, and Aragorn still felt like it had only been a few months. He kept expecting to hear news of the hobbits from Gandalf or be plotting a vacation to the Shire. But that was just a fantasy.

The hobbits had returned to the Shire, and they were doing their best to fit back in. Boromir was gone, and that still tore at Aragorn. And finally, Gandalf and Frodo had gone to the Undying Lands with the elves and Bilbo. Aragorn understood why, but he still mourned their loss. It seemed sometimes all he could do was mourn.

But not all of their connections faded when the Fellowship ended. Aragorn knew that the hobbits would care for each other. He often thought of them there, in the Shire. They were all different than when they had left. Experiences like these are bound to change you. Aragorn wondered how they fared now, they had returned to their simple lives. Did they miss aspects of it? Did they tell stories of their brave deeds? Or maybe they just buried it. Carried it in their hearts and never spoke of the unimaginable things they had done. Aragon hoped they spoke of the things they had done and that their family and friends had even an inkling of what they had accomplished.

The other members of the Fellowship had certainly gained much acclaim. Aragorn found himself busier than ever. He had known that taking the throne would be a lot of work. He hadn’t been ready for how terribly tried it all left him.

There was little for it but to keep working and hoping it would ease up some.

Aragorn moved slowly. He couldn’t hardly see for the pounding in his head and the fact that his eyes kept trying to close. The last time he had felt this exhausted had been during the battle at the black gate. Where days of fighting and no rest had left him weary. Where grief had threatened to eclipse him. He didn’t understand how it was possible that just working was having the same effect.

Gimli and Legolas were waiting in one of the meeting rooms for Aragorn, and he wasn’t going to let something so paltry as a headache stop him. As soon as Arwen had told him they were in the city for a visit, he had started to rearrange his schedule. Arwen had helped quite a bit, of course. She and Faramir did their best to ensure his schedule was somewhat reasonable, even when it never seemed to be.

He opened the door quietly and took in the changes of his closest friends.

Gimli was considerably cleaner than he usually was. His beard was braided elaborately with new beads and tucked into his belt. His clothes were also of a much higher quality than anything Aragorn had seen him in.

Several months into the journey, Aragorn had discovered that his usual hard, rough cloth was because it was what he had grown up in, not lack of availability. As the son of a surviving member of Thorin’s company, he was entitled to almost anything in the mountain. He simply preferred the simpler fair. Now, his clothes were of a softer make and very well fitted to his body.

He wasn’t the only one who had changed. Legolas wore several beads in his hair and carried a small blade of dwarfish make. There also seemed to be a difference in the way he carried himself. A lightness to his entire person.

They heard his approach and turned to him, both faces lighting up. Then they both fell.

“You look awful.” Legolas’ words were blunt. Gimli nodded beside him.

“You both must have changed by this relationship if you’re agreeing on something.”

“Ah, no point in denying a plain truth.” Gimli’s words were tinged with worry.

Aragorn shrugged lightly and then clutched his head in pain. Legolas caught him.

“My friend, you’ve been working too much,” Legolas said.

Aragorn shook his head in disagreement. “No.”

Gimli snorted. “How can you say that when the result is plain in front of us?”

Aragorn felt the urge to argue, but his head was pounding, and his vision was swimming.

“A king is no good to his people if he has been worked to exhaustion. You must take some rest.”

“Absolutely not. I haven’t seen either of you in months! You may not have a chance to visit again from your part of the map for months or even years. I’m not going to sleep away the visit from the only friends I still have left.”

Gimli and Legolas glanced at each other, and Aragorn suddenly felt very alone. He wasn’t sure when they had developed the ability to know each other’s minds from a single glance. They hadn’t been able to do that when Aragorn had parted from them after the ring was destroyed. It felt like he had missed all of their relationship. And now he was going to miss more because he was too tired to stay with them.

“What if you were to rest with us there?”

Aragorn glanced at them. He must’ve been more tired than he realized because it took a moment for him to understand what they were saying.

“You mean you would….”

“Just sleep, mind you.” Legolas put a very firm point on that.

Aragorn glanced between them. He probably wasn’t the only one who could use a little rest. “Alright, as long as you promise to stay the entire time with me.”

Legolas narrowed his eyes, never liking to be told what to do by anybody.

“As long as you are actually resting, we shall stay.”

Aragorn beamed at them and motioned toward the door. Legolas took one of his arms, apparently deciding he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. Gimli simply fell into step beside them.

[emilybeemartin]

Boromir Lives AU: it's a BABY

Activate Stiflingly Protective Big Brother Turbo Boost

Labor Day

The Gondor Chronicle's headline reads Brilliant Military Strategist and War Hero Absolutely Loses His Goddamn Mind During Sister-in-Law's Routine Labor

Beregond didn't anticipate this under the Extra Duties as Assigned clause in his job description

Somebody say uncle, quick

NEW LIFE NEW LIFE NEW LIFE IN A WORLD HE THOUGHT WAS ENDING, YOU GUYS

------

Boromir Lives: Helm's Deep

Boromir Lives: Whump-Time After Pelennor

Boromir Lives: GO TO SLEEP

Boromir Lives: Aragorn's Coronation

Boromir Lives: Faramir and Eowyn's Wedding

Boromir Lives: The Haircuts

[mistergandalf]

ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO MASTERPOST

Who is THE blorbo of the Tolkien fandom here on tumblr dot com? Let's find out!

What are the criteria for voting?

What is a blorbo to you? As Aragorn would say: What does your heart tell you? Therein lies your answer. For me, it's who I'd like the whump the most. Maybe for you it's who is the most shippable. Maybe it's the one that means the most to you for what they represent. Maybe it's your poor little meow meow (looking at you, Angbang lovers). Let your feelings guide you.

Is this only supposed to be about the books, or is it based on any Tolkien-based media?

This is about blorbos. Wherever you found your blorbo, that's fine. If you want to be a book purist about it, you're valid. If you love Thorin Oakenshield simply because Richard Armitage is hot, you are also valid.

***PLEASE ALSO NOTE that my blog is a Rings of Power positive blog! If you don’t like it that’s fine, but if you post negative comments or reblogs on my posts, I will block you! I don’t want negativity in my activity feed, thank you!***

When will polls be posted?

Polls will be posted daily at 12pm EDT (GMT -4), staggered by 5-10 minutes on each poll. There will be a day between final votes as the data will be needed for the next poll!

Schedule is as follows: (Updated because I’m dumb and didn’t realize how many rounds the second chance bracket has)

4/23 - Round One 4/25 - Round Two (Primary Bracket) 4/26 - Round Two (Second Chance Bracket) 4/27 - Round Three (Primary Bracket) 4/28 - Round Three (Second Chance Bracket) 4/30 - Round Four (Second Chance Bracket) 5/2 - Round Five (Second Chance Bracket) 5/4 - Round Six (Second Chance Bracket) 5/5 - Round Four (Primary Bracket) 5/7 - Round Seven (Second Chance Bracket) 5/9 - Round Eight (Second Chance Bracket) 5/10 - Round Five (Primary Bracket) - decides the finalist 5/12 - Round Nine (Second Chance Bracket) - decides the finalist 5/14 - FINAL ROUND - THE ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO

Check the tag #ultimate tolkien blorbo to see new posts! Feel free to share your thoughts in the tag as well!

I have more questions!

Okay, click the readmore then!

Hey! Why did you pair this character with that character?

Because I spent a whole evening googling how tournament brackets work (I am not a sports person) and then I did a lot of math and sorting.

Okay, but I really want to know!

WELL first I thought: "How can I quantify and rank blorbos?" The answer: AO3. I went into the Tolkien fandom general tag and ranked the first 32 characters by the number of fanfics in which they appear.*

Then I split them by story. I roughly kept Hobbit characters with Hobbit characters, LotR with LotR, and Silmarillion with Silmarillion to keep it as fair as possible and give all corners of the fandom a chance to see their blorbo win. Some characters are in multiple sources, like Elrond or Gandalf, so I tried to keep those characters with someone who is probably just as well-known.**

Then I followed the rules the internet told me about how tournaments work. The highest-ranked character goes with the lowest-ranked character, the second-highest with the second-lowest, etc.

And that's how I did it! It was a fantastic way to waste an afternoon.

*I may have eliminated and/or played with a couple options. Some of these characters had fewer fics than the character "OC," which makes sense. I took off Erestor because literally only Glorfindel stans would choose him, and Glorfindel is on here. I also lumped together Elladan and Elrohir because if you can tell them apart, it's because they're both your blorbos. Tolkien did NOT give them distinct personalities. Also if I didn’t lump them together, I wouldn’t be able to fit Celebrimbor, and that would be a shame.

**Characters who appear in multiple stories had their rankings weighted to account for that fact. I got a C in statistics in college, though, so I frankly have no idea if the way I weighted them is correct, nor do I care, because I'm satisfied with how the rankings turned out.

I don’t like how you did this!

Okay, don’t vote then. Nobody’s making you.

FORTH EORLINGAS! Have fun voting! As Gimli would say... May the best Dwarf win! ;)

Round One [results & analysis]

Thorin vs. Bard | Bilbo vs. Dwalin | Kili vs. Gandalf | Fili vs. Thranduil | Legolas vs. Eomer | Aragorn vs. Eowyn | Elrond vs. Elladan & Elrohir | Frodo vs. Merry | Gimli vs. Pippin | Samwise vs. Boromir | Faramir vs. Galadriel | Maedhros vs. Celebrimbor | Maedhros vs. Celebrimbor (RoP free version bc some of you are whiny babies) | Maglor vs. Finrod | Glorfindel vs. Morgoth | Sauron vs. Celegorm | Fingon vs. Feanor

Round Two [results & analysis]

Thorin vs. Bilbo | Legolas vs. Thranduil | Pippin vs. Éowyn | Maglor vs. Frodo | Gandalf vs. Samwise | Elrond vs. Maedhros | Faramir vs. Glorfindel | Sauron vs. Fëanor

Round Two (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Elladan & Elrohir | Gimli vs. Morgoth | Merry vs. Bard | Finrod vs. Celegorm | Boromir vs. Kíli | Fíli vs. Celebrimbor | Éomer vs. Galadriel | Fingon vs. Arwen

Round Three [results & analysis]

Bilbo vs. Legolas |  Éowyn vs. Frodo | Samwise vs. Elrond | Faramir vs. Fëanor

Round Three (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Gandalf | Gimli vs. Maedhros | Merry vs. Glorfindel | Finrod vs. Sauron | Boromir vs. Thorin | Celebrimbor vs. Thranduil | Éomer vs. Pippin | Arwen vs. Maglor

Round Four (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Gimli | Merry vs. Finrod | Boromir vs. Celebrimbor | Pippin vs. Arwen

Round Five (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Bilbo | Éowyn vs. Merry | Boromir vs. Elrond | Pippin vs. Fëanor

Round Six (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Éowyn | Boromir vs. Pippin

Round Four [results & analysis]

Legolas vs. Frodo | Samwise vs. Faramir

Round Seven (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Éowyn vs. Faramir | Pippin vs. Legolas

Round Eight (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Éowyn vs. Pippin

Round Five [results & analysis]

Frodo vs. Samwise

Round Nine (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Éowyn vs. Frodo

FINAL ROUND

Samwise vs. Frodo

[beechovenwhump]

Just joined a new fandom just for the whump and there's fucking NOTHING 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I swear whenever a character is super strong I just want to break them down even more I need more writers on my side with this PLS

[bunfloras]

“bun i’m so glad you’re getting into lotr”

you fools. lotr was my first ever fandom. my first ever fics i wrote were aragorn and legolas whump fics at age 11.

in summary, i am going to break your hearts.

[aceofwhump]

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

[dynamicdiplomacy]

New Fic Alert!

Sea Cliffs and Shattered Stars

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Characters: Elrond, Celebrian, Galadriel, Celeborn, Gil-galad, Elladan, Elrohir, Glorfindel, Erestor, Ecthelion of the Fountain, Arwen, Mandos, Turgon, Elros, Eonwë

Relationships: Elrond/Celebrían, Aragorn/Arwen, Galadriel/Celeborn

Summary: When Elrond reaches the shore of Aman, he brings bitter news that threatens to ruin the fragile future they have been promised together.

They aren't coming, Celebrían. Our children aren't coming.

But Celebrían, daughter of Galadriel Finarfiniel and Celeborn, prince of Doriath, will not allow her children to die. So with a sword in her hand and her husband by her side, she marches up to the Valar and demands they grant a new judgement.

Tags: Elladan and Elrohir Choose Mortality, Choice of the Half-Elves, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Elrond Peredhel Whump, Friendship, Adventure & Romance, Fourth Age, Aman, References to the Silmarillion, Galadriel & Celeborn are Good Parents

This fic is fully completed and will be updated weekly.

Available on AO3: