#harad to find

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

I'm still thinking about banner bearers as I continue working on my Obscure Blorbo Guthláf story, and I do find it impressive how much context about the banner bearer role Tolkien shoved into LOTR in barely half a dozen sentences' worth of small references.

For starters, there are (by my count) 3 acknowledged banner bearers in Lord of the Rings: Halbarad of the rangers of the North, Guthláf of Rohan (♥️), and an unnamed Haradrim standard bearer. I reject the distinction Tolkien made between so-called high, middle and low Men, but it is notable nonetheless that he created a banner bearer character from each of these 3 groups. That shows how universally important the function was, at least to communities of Men, just as it was extremely common in the real world for many hundreds of years of human history. All kinds of Middle Earth's Men have them, no matter how different the Men are from one another.

In addition, all 3 of the banner bearer characters die at the Pelennor Fields, which effectively illustrates how incredibly dangerous a job it was, both in Middle Earth and real life. Given how intentional Tolkien is about everything, I think it's fair to assume that he purposefully killed all of them in recognition of the realities of ancient warfare. (The only banner bearer I can think of in any Tolkien book that survives their war is Eönwë in the Silmarillion, but he's an immortal Maia so...TOTALLY different circumstances.)

And finally, Tolkien shows us how significant the loss of a banner bearer was to both sides in a battle. When Théoden kills the unnamed Haradrim standard bearer (just before the Witch King rolls up), that's the moment when the forces of Harad founder and start to flee because they've lost their rallying point and their source of morale. They can't function without their banner bearer. On the opposite side, Théoden cites his felling of the black serpent flag to Merry as one of the singular achievements that will allow him to sit proudly alongside his ancestors in the afterlife, so he clearly also understands taking out a banner bearer to be a massive battle achievement.

We don't witness Halbarad or Guthláf’s final moments, but their deaths are just as significant. Out of the untold numbers of dead at the Pelennor Fields, they are both in the small handful of names to be recorded in the story because they were important and their deaths meant something to the broader battle. And we see in the immediate aftermath of Guthláf’s death what a huge deal it is to the Rohirrim—they stop to address his death and retrieve his banner so that it can be borne by another before they even take the time to tend to their mortally wounded king. Those are the actions of people who understand how strategically important a banner bearer is above almost all other battlefield functions.

I'm not trying to say Guthláf is more important than Théoden* but I am saying that Tolkien really demonstrated, through a handful of very economical little actions and asides and unremarked-upon events, how critical people like Guthláf were, as well as how ridiculously brave and selfless. And more than anything else, I guess I’m saying that now, as I approach 27,000 words about Guthláf in my Google docs, he’s…on my mind a lot.

*At this point, I would absolutely say this for myself. In my heart, there's no contest and it's Guthláf forever. But I know that’s because he’s my special li’l guy and I don’t expect that of anyone else!

[dfwbwfbbwfbwf]

Share this if you can! I want to get as many opinions as possible.

[mirra-kan]

Hi Mirra!

Have you written any headcanon, metas, discussions, or fics about your concept of the "Faithful Haradrim"? If so, could you please tell me where to find them? If you haven't yet, would you mind sharing some info of your headcanons (anything at all) about their history and culture?

I'm a big fan of your Harad artwork and concepts (including the Blue Wizards), and it's all clearly founded on a rich, complex world you've created for them in your head. I would definitely love to learn more! :) I do also plan on including more about the Haradrim culture and history in my upcoming fanfics, so I would love to hear an expert's ideas on them.

Thank you for sharing your work with us!

@sotwk Was very happy to discover your message in my ask box!

Thank you for your interest and willingness to include more Haradrim content into your writing, but I'm afraid you might find my views rather... boring 😆

I also must apologise in advance if any of my phrases may not seem polite enough or turn out to be grammatically incorrect - English is not my first language.

Disclaimer! What is written below represents my personal view! It is in no way intended to hurt or discredit anyone’s head canons, views and ideas!

My Chinese calligraphy teacher once told me: "Do you want to assume or to learn? Decide on the approach before you make theories about anything."

And I follow the strategy of "to learn" before I "assume". So, first and foremost, I'm still in search of bits of information about the peoples who inhabited Harad and Rhun (South and East) of Middle-earth.

My goal is not so much to create head cannons as to draw the audience's attention to the canon and the Professor's own vision. Accordingly, in working through his letters, essays, and volumes of the History of Middle-earth, I am trying to draw parallels that someone as educated as Professor Tolkien might have drawn.

I also categorically disagree with the images created in the movies, where the conventional evil is more caricatured than frightening, and the motives and history of the conflict are not shown at all (Faramir’s saying about Haradrim’s fate is at least included, which is great, even if it wasn’t his in books). When my best friend dragged me into the Silmarillion story couple of years ago, I was amazed at how distorted the perception of these regions was in adaptations.

So, thinking about the existence and struggles of Faithful Haradrim, I rely on the history of the region and possible historical patterns. Such a vast region simply cannot have a common culture. It is the idea that can unite them. But, as in our reality, cultural features, symbolism and colours may differ. For example, we know that those who came with Sauron's army, performed under red flags with snakes. Does that mean that the entire vast region walked exclusively in the same colours? It seems unlikely to me.

As for the Blue Wizards, blue in general is a colour very 'inherent' to many cultures in the Global South. I suppose that's why the Professor dressed Alatar and Pallando in those colours. And accordingly, in my opinion, Faithful Haradrim could use these colours in their robes and on their banners, but not necessarily. It is not the colour that reflects the inner essence of a person.

Of course, when thinking about this or that image, I think about where exactly these people live, what the level of metallurgy development is present in different Ages, whether there is a sea or mountains nearby - all this affects how their armour\architecture\symbolism could have developed. In general, I draw parallels with real anthropology and the history of the development of civilisations. Books about the regional patterns, military and weapon history etc are of big help here too.

Sometimes, of course, I make things up. For example, when I first read the lines about the Blue Wizards not returning to Valinor, I didn't take it in a negative light. After all, they could have stayed in Middle-earth willingly, having become attached and imbued with the problems of the region, of the people. After all, Alatar and Curumo were the only ones who were not afraid to volunteer to fight Sauron.

I also like the later version, in which the Blue Wizards arrive in the Second Age. It makes more "sense" given the nightmare that the Númenorians had wrought in the region. But even among them, I'm sure there were some people who sympathised and helped the local population. I don't believe in black and white in principle. But I do believe in post-truth.

So, in essence, I'm a boring canonist who treats the author's writings and views with great respect. And the myth of the Haradrim and Easterlings being bad guys by all accounts is almost as well-established as the supposed lack of religion, holy Dunedain and cute glowing elves. Which is, in my opinion, in no way consistent with Tolkien's own philosophy and stance.

Perhaps what I came up with from scratch was a sign, a Faithful Haradrim symbol, that those could use to identify each other. People need symbols, faith and ideas. Especially in such trying times. That's the way we are.

Oh, I'm afraid if I go on, it'll be a whole essay. So I think I'll stop here. Thanks again for your question and your interest! I'm sorry if I disappointed you, haha.  Good luck with your writing - I'm so happy there're people out there, who're genuinely interested in the region! ❤

P.S. If everything goes well, I plan to release a zine about Harad at the end of the year. With quotes and the obligatory notes of personal theories not to confuse the reader.

[swanmaids]

original character-focussed fic recs

One of the best feelings for me as a fic writer in this fandom is when somebody tells me that they liked one of my original characters. Character creation can be hard work and nerve-wracking, so it’s really rewarding whenever people tell me that it’s paid off. This fandom has a wealth of fantastic, memorable original characters, so I wanted to make a recommendation list of some of my favourite fics that feature them. The fics in this list are a range of lengths, ratings, warnings, and themes, and I’m hoping everyone will be able to find something to their taste here.

Of course this list is not exhaustive, and I’m always open to more recommendations!

All the splendour they could bear by asterisq; t, 1k, cntw.

The Ar-Pharazôn (& Sauron) regime commissions art for the temple. The artist tries to survive the assignment.

Bitter Heart, Bitter Heart by thegreatpumpkin; f!Galathil/OFC, t, 20k, nawa.

She had loved her brother better once. She had loved them all better once; but too many times she had swallowed bitterness, and now her heart was all sown with ashes and salt. Noble Celeborn, wise Celeborn, shining in his place beside the king! Galathil was reminded at every turn of the ways in which she did not measure up.

The Bread Maker’s Lament by havisham; Morwen & OFC, t, 1k, nawa.

A young woman, living in First Age Hithlum, grapples with grief and loss, and bakes bread.

The Carpenter’s Son by @kareenvorbarra; OFC/OMC, m, 9k, rape/noncon.

An untold story of conquered Dor-lómin, in which an Easterling carpenter has a child by his Hadorian slave.

The Constant Gardner by tehta; OFC & Egalmoth, t, 4k, nawa.

Running Yavanna’s errands in First Age Middle-earth is a tough job, but someone has to do it.

To die in the light by @skyeventide; Maedhros & OFC, m, 6k, violence.

A thrall escapes Angband. This is the journey of what comes after.

Dwell in death’s shadow by @undercat-overdog; Curufin/Wife, g, 3.5k, nawa.

A child eavesdrops on an argument he was never meant to hear.

an ecstatic accident by void and fire by Chestnut_Pod; g, 0.5k, nawa.

Follow the blue roads of Arda.

The Elf Who Circumnavigated Arda in a Ship of Their Own Making by @arofili​; OC & OFC, g, 1k, nawa

Three letters home from a Telerin adventurer.

Far Too Many of You Dying by @starspray; OFC & Teleri, t, 1k, cntw.

After the Noldor depart, Alqualondë is left reeling.

Four Winters by @aipilosse; Celegorm & OFC, t, 6k, nawa.

Four winters in the life of Gwíneth, daughter of Urthel. A rescue, a hunt, a fall, and the abyss.

His Hour Had Come by @polutrope; Saeros & OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Saeros' daughter reflects on the life and actions of her father.

Lost at Sea by starspray, Uinen & OFC, 0.4k, g, nawa.

An Avarin elf accidentally gets lost at sea and gets stuck halfway onto the Straight Road. Uinen helps out.

These Newborn Shores by @kazaera; t, 14k, nawa.

It's the early Second Age and the Host of the Valar have just departed. The disparate refugees now sitting on the new shores of Lindon, tasked with building the fleet of Númenor even as they are still reeling from Beleriand's destruction, must find a way to move forward despite their losses.

Figuring out where to get their clothes from would be a good place to start.

Not by the Hand of Man by Sath, Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 7k, nawa.

After his chief priestess is assassinated, Sauron summons his most powerful servant, a woman of Far Harad, to Númenor.

on a long road (miles to go) by Solanaceae, g, 5k, cntw.

Andreth in the House of Adanel.

One Who Holds by @slightnettles Elrond & OFC, g, 4k, nawa.

As the War of Wrath and the breaking of Beleriand approach, a woman of the Easterlings meets a young Elrond.

SeaLight by Anerea; g, 0.3k, nawa.

A Telerin Elf's first experience of the waters of Belegaer, at the end of the Great Journey.

A Seduction by The_Wavesinger; Tar-Miriel/OFC, e, 2k, cntw.

Tar-Míriel attempts to take revenge on her husband by seducing his sister.

Si la mar fuera de leche by Chestnut_Pod, Elros/OFC, Elros & OCs, t, 23k, nawa.

Ten years after the Valar pulled Númenor dripping from the sea, Elros receives a visitor.

Starlit Waves by raiyana; Cirdan/OFC, m, 2k, nawa.

“Congratulations, my love, you have made a plank. Yet again.”   Dry tones teased his ears softly, the silent footsteps of his beloved Ngilith giving him no warning of her approach.

Talathien by maerzkindt; Haleth & OFCs g, 7k, nawa.

Linnoril, a woman from the group later known as House of Hador, returns to her mother's folk of the Haladin and joins the guard. An exploration of reconnecting, forming new bonds and playing fast and loose with First Age Edain lore.

The Thousand Stories by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC/OFC, t, 19k, mcd.

They're important, the myths people tell about themselves, about their histories. You can learn a lot from a tale or seven.

A Traitor’s Issue by herenortherenearnorfar; OFC & OFC,t, 16k, violence.

Ulfang's daughters(in-law) seek aid in the aftermath. Reckoning with their own grief and choices (or lack thereof) they navigate Angband, the nightmare they grew up with, now the only place they can turn for help.

The “Unmarried” Queen - Deficiencies in Numenorean Scholarship by Sath; Tar-Telperien/OFC, g, 1k, nawa.

Rosie Cotton and Samwise Gamgee's granddaughter, a scholar of short stature and lofty goals, finds an earth-shattering document being used to steady a table leg in Minas Tirith.

Willow-Meads by Narya_Flame; g, 5k, nawa.

a willow-spirit, some places she went, and the people she met.

the wind that shakes the mountain by platinum_firebird; OFC/OFC, t, 2k, nawa.

The tale of Mazlav, daughter of Temolv, chieftain of the Uzba clan; and of how she met her lover and companion-in-arms, Aalta of Ishahú.

With the Stars in the Darkness and the Love in the Light by Zdenka; Haleth/OFC, Haleth/Goldberry, Nellas/Goldberry, t, 3k, nawa.

At Nienor's request, the women of Brethil share stories and songs about Haleth, the river's daughter, and those they loved.

[baby-dragons-art]

Consequences

Short story.

{What happens when you openly defy the dark lord in his own home}

Sauron x OC

《 From the tale of Sauron and the Haradrim Rejha》

She knew it was only a matter of time before her luck had run out. Before the leash yanked back a new. She had gotten close, so close as to reach the platform to the lower levels.... to fresh air. The very thought of fresh air giving her confidence and strength to push onward, to find a way. She had been so close.

Read more below

It was only when she found the platform that she was caught. It must have been strange seeing her there, un accompanied and wide-eyed. Of course, she was caught. A skulking Uruk, rousing from its stupor, snorted aloud and emerged from the alcove overlooking the platform. She had been careless.

Any fight she had left in her was all but spent on her defense against the stinking thing. Not her whit or blade spared her. Though she was not starved, she was little match against the creature and earned a sporting cut on her jaw as a reward. A favorable price to pay compared to what was to come.

She had been caught. This time, there would be no excuses. No forgiveness. If only she had been more careful.

With in little time, Rejha was standing in a familiar, circular parlor, a single man like guard not far behind. Jagged rock of cut, black caged around the room, framing lamp lit walls of deeper black. Only some flash of color graced her eyes. Red. A flicker of gold. She stared downward harshly. Her face reflected in the polished black, offering little comfort in the soft red hues of the oil lamps hanging above.

She could hear her heart racing in her ears, her knuckles white as they gripped her sleeves, persperarion glittered across her forehead despite the bitting cold.

At last, the sound of the adjacent doors opening stabbed her ears, flinching, she bit the inside of her cheek.

Soft foot fall and the gentle hiss of heavy fabrics slithered toward her at a steady pace, not a word spoken. She need not look up to know the individual. In the cold, the heat that enveloped from his presence was enough. He was a forges fire even from a distance. As the footsteps came before her, Rejha pursed her lips and lowered her head all the more.

Black folds of void like fabric pooled before her muddied boots like a tar pit. Though the sight made her knees tremble, she dare not close her eyes. She dare not raise her head.

Finally, the dreaded words were uttered. Her stomach dropping like a stone.

"You disobeyed." Came the voice. Like fingers over silk and blades to flesh. Rejha cringed at the sound. The silence following his words a relief.

She breathed out cautiously and uttered as firmly as she could.

"I did not leave the tower." She spoke bravely. "I did not go beyond your sight. I remained in Barad-dur as-."

She was cut off by a hiss of air above her. A sound that silenced her immediately.

"You think me so plain that your words would hide your true intent?" Under her jaw, Rejha felt a leathered hand take her chin and raise her gaze. The heat from his touch, nearly scalding. Now, looking upward, Rajha faced the full breadth and horror of her host. Black was all she could see, save for two piercing eyes that shone down brightly beneath a low hanging veil. The eyes of Sauron. Even veiled the sight wearied her to the bone.

"After my generosity, I had hoped you would show some respect as gratitude."

His thumb stroked over the cut she had received from the Uruk, the folds of the veil tilting ever so.

"I swear..." Rejha breathed carefully, her lungs feeling shallow. "I was not trying to leave... I just wanted to see the sky. Breath real air again. I am owed that."

The dark lords stature adjusted to full height and released her face. His hand disappeared under the veil, a soft suckling heard, and soon, the blood was gone from his thumb.

"You have shifted along the edge of my patience, Harad. You are owed what I see fit to give you."

The heat of his gaze was suffocating as she held eye contact with him. It was not out of feilty or foolishness that she did so. But the fear that if she looked away, he would strike her down, like a wild animal cornered.

"Yet as it stands, you have done little to earn such favor."

Rejha clenched her jaw, trying to compose herself despite his words. She must tread carefully. His voice was as honey, but his viperous words were meant to rile. To push her on to do something foolish.

Her hand ghosted the blade at her side. Her arm aching to seize the hilt and cut through her way to freedom. But such were foolish fantasies. How long would she stand against him in a fight? A second? A few seconds, if he were gracious. She would not last long. Nevertheless, her desire to draw her blade ever present.

"You can't keep me prisoner here when I have done no crime." She spoke evenly, slowly, as best she could. "My people expect me to return, I am needed home. What more could I serve to you if I am kept here, purposeless?"

Sauron's head perked. Whether he was taken aback, insulted, or intrigued by her was unknown. Though the heat of his gaze did not relent in the slightest. It intensified.

"Who is to say what your purpose is to me?" He lulled, now leisurely walking about her as though admiring something she did not see. "Is that for you to determine?" His hand gestured toward her in strict fashion. Displaying, slender, leather clad fingers, only his ring finger was missing from his hand. Rehja's stomach turned, averting her eyes she would rather stare into his gaze than look at his hand.

The hand that was cut....

"If it is my will, if my word commanded you, who are you to question it? Is it not my wisdom and power that leads your people to victory? Am I not your sire?"

Gritting her teeth, Rejha flinched as his hand retracted into the void of his garments. She felt as though she were tettering on the edge of a cliff, desperate to stand upright.

"A thousand times you are, my lord. I can not comprehend your grand designs, but nor can I serve you cut from my purpose. I am dust with out my garrison. Let me return to my people. Let me serve you as I am born to, with your armies. I can be of greater use as a scout, archer or emissary. Please, lord. See that I am perishing, be merciful."

At this, a huff of amusement rattled her ears as a sickening chuckle wandered from his chest. From the moment she had first opened her mouth infront of him there had been little hesitation or fear. True the woman had been terrified in his presence but spoke her mind regardless. He could see the expressions in the eyes of her garrison. Horrified at her imputence. But how refreshing it was.

"Your tongue does you credit in only that it amuses me." He hummed. "Your betters would grovel at my word, yet you quarell with me." His slender, towering form circled about her till he stood behind her, leaning down over her shoulder. "Were I in a less savory mood-." He cooed, his fingers stroking the intricate bangles of her head piece resting on her temple. "I would have you on your knees, humble you till you begged for my pardon."

Rehja's face took on heat and redness. She turned her head from his touch, scowling to repress the intent of his words.

A gesite that did not go unknoticed. Sauron removed his touch and spoke further.

"As you amuse me, I shall be merciful, aleviate you of your woes by putting them to rest. Your garrison is not coming back for you, Rejha. They have been commanded out of Mordor to continue their orders. Therefore, any attempt to leave Barad-dur would be as pointless as it would be deadly to you. Your people have gone."

A shallow gasp escaped Rejha's lips as the silken words of Sauron hissed into her ear. The very idea of such a betrayal cutting into her very chest. It could not be true. They would never leave her behind, they were family. Her brothers and sisters in battle.

And yet there she was. Still in with in the dark lord's tower, standing alone with in the very center of his evil. Alone.

Her garrison had gone.... she had been left behind. The devastation of reality gripped her as though her heart had been squeezed till it burst.

"Given this." Sauron continued. "It is pleasing to me that you are to remain in Barad-dur as long as I require it. To serve me as I deem you should."

Tears welled in Rejha's eyes, her vision blurred from fatigue and grief. She could not help it. After waiting so long, desperate to see her garrison again, to finally go home, the news of their departure was more than she could bare.

A pained breath escaped her lips as she turned back and stared into the blackened void behind her. His two eyes watching intently.

"You ordered this...?!" She gaped, tears falling from her grey eyes. Sauron's head tilted downward, eyes fixed on hers. He did not hide his hand in this.

Rehja turned her gaze from his, lowering her eyes to harshly wipe her tears away. Her greif was crushing, nit only has she lost her freedom but any hopes of seeing Harad again. What could she do against what has been done? How was she to overcome the walls that had been closed in on her?

No answers were given. Only frantic panic and greif as she held her face.

With her face oscured, darkness enveloped her. She felt his hands on her shoulders.... the left one missing the ring finger. A heavyness like waves of thick fabric settled about her.

His breath was at her ear. His grip held her steady yet seemed dire in some way as she tried to console herself.

"Harad is your past." Came his voice, a lull that was sickeningly sweet to her ears. She almost fell into him from their honied tone. "You belong here now. With me."

Gasping, her heart racing, the cage she was trapped in shrinking, Rejha cried out. She could see only darkness. Feel only the heat closing around her. The dessert, her people, her home vanishing before her eyes into the jaws of fire.

Rehja pushed her arms outward, casting Sauron back in desperation. It was only far enough for her to reach her for blade and draw it. "No!" She yelled, tears streaming down her face as she raised her arm to strike him. If she was left behind, never to see her homeland again, then death was her only solace. Her only honor left.

Cursing in her own language, she made a swipe to create some distance between them. She managed one cut to his garment that was utterly harmless and swiftly found her wrist caught in his grasp.

Firmly, her arm was pulled to the side as she fought against him. A brave but fruitless endeavor. For no sooner had she cursed his name than he uttered one word that seased her movements entirely.

The word was harsh. In a language she did not know. Evil. Poison. It turned her stomach and left her without breath. She felt the vibrations of the word tremble about her, ringing in her ears and flushing her mind of all thought.

Rehja felt all strength with in her vanish, her mind became a haze and her will failed her at last.

The blade in her hand fell from her grasp and clattered to the floor loudly. A hand was secured about her lower back keeping her upright as she hung limp.

Staring upward into the veil, she was able to see the shadowed chin of the dark lord beneath. The skin was cold, pale, scarred and unpleasant to behold. Some devistation had befallen him, so much so that his body had been mangled, a horror to behold.

Despite her state and beholding a glimlse of the evil before her, her heart rate slowed. Her breath evened. Her eyes watched him calmly but intently as tears slid down her face. All care had left her.

His gloved hand returned to the cut on her cheek, apprasing it attentively. She felt her body being lifted and pressed against his as her face was brought to the hem of the veil. The the sensation of warmth suckled the cut of all blood.

When that well had run dry, his lips pulled back, a soft sigh following. The gaze under the veil lowered to her exposed neck, finding it unguarded.

Even as his lips were pressed upon her throat, Rejha did not cry out. She found peace, even contentment, despite the horror of reality.

Was she perhapse, even so bold, to find the warmth pleasant? The sensation of lips on her skin welcoming? Was it beyond her to enjoy what was happening? Was this not her purpose to serve the Lord of Mordor?

In a moment, piercing pain like a dagger punctured her throat and sent a jolt through her body that caused her to yelp aloud. Rejha held her mouth agape as an explosion of burning heat blossomed at her neck, spilling down her throat.

Fangs buried into her, lips drinking deeply as though her host were dying of thirst.

Sauron was wholly occupied in her blood as his nostrils flared. A low toned growl purred in his throat and his grip, held tight about her waist. His indulgence into this precious desert spring was a long desired thirst he would not now deny.

She could hear each gulp as blood was stolen from her body. Every suckle loud in her ear. Yet not a care could be had. Her vision blurred. Her breath weakened as each drop of crimson was hoarded, she faded more away into dimness.

"Don't kill me...." Her thoughts begged, while in her minds eye, she wandered from dimness to visions of Harad. Vast dessert of swooping, golden dunes that stretched across a pale blue horizon. She could see it even with her eyes open. Could almost feel it. Smell the air.

"Death is not for you." A voice spoke in her mind. And there in the dunes stood a man in stark white, she was nearly blinded by the sight. Even from a distance, she could see him, a fair elf like being that struck her with his beauty.

But the eyes... they were that of Sauron.... he smiled cockily at her as sandied winds kicked up his garments and disturbed the red, strawberry gold hair.

"I would not be so foolish to deprive myself of my only oasis."

In the cold reality, Rejha's eyes closed fully, a labored breath escaping her lips. She hung limp in darkness, defenseless against the moster at her throat and left alone in a strange land far from her people. Yet despite this, she remained at peace and dreamed of fresh air, dessert sands, and a of a fair stranger with blazing eyes.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Fire To Ice

Summary: Before taking their spa day, Bloom takes Icy to see the Gävle Goat for her first Earth Christmas.

“So we just…watch it burn?” Icy quirks a brow. “That’s it?”

“That’s it!? What do you mean, ‘that’s it’. This is the entire reason that I brought you to Sweden instead of Gardenia for you first Earth Christmas!” 

“It’s a goat. A straw goat.” Icy frowns. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for my first Earth vacation.” 

Bloom shrugs. “Well that sucks, I thought that you would enjoy this activity.”

“We’re just going to watch a goat burn and it’s not even on fire.”

“Yet.”

“Yet?”

“It’s not on fire yet.”

Icy inhales deeply. “Well when will it be on fire?” 

Bloom flashes her smirk so wicked that she almost wonders why the girl didn’t go to Cloud Tower. “Because we haven’t set it on fire yet.” 

“Excuse me.”

“The goat is not supposed to be on fire. In fact, over the years there have been many security measures put in place to keep Gävlebocken from bursting into flames. But every now and then…” She makes a bursting gesture with her hands. “Boom! So many people have been fined and arrested for this tradition.” Her eyes are twinkling with chaotic delight. Icy can already see the flames roaring in them.

“Shit, I didn’t realize that you had such an appetite for havoc and destruction and the aptitude to make it happen.” Icy quirks a brow. “If I’d know this about you, you could have been part of my coven.” 

“Hmmm…thanks but no thanks. Not my style. I’m more of a solo arsonist…” she pauses. “Or an ‘arson as quality time’ kind of person.” 

And here Icy thought that they would be going to the Swedish lapland for a Earth’s version of a frigid wonderland. It would, of course, pale in comparison to winters in her own kingdom but Bloom had assured her that Earth traditions would make it count. Mostly Bloom had mentioned hoping to see the northern lights and part-take in a Lucia celebration. 

“After we set the goat on fire we can head over to Harads for an ice bath.” Bloom taps her chin. 

“You mean a regular bath?” Icy asks. 

“No, no! Like you take a dip in a hole that has been carved into the ice in a lake. And it’s really freezing cold.”

“Yes.” Icy replies. “A regular bath.” 

“Okay well this one is going to be a special regular bath for you.” Bloom insists. “Because this one comes with a spa treatment and northern lights. And nice scenery.”

“I am nice scenery.” Icy replies. “Can we get on with setting the goat on fire?”

“Ya know for an ice witch, you sure like fire.” 

Icy shrugs 

“Alright then.” Bloom cracks her knuckles “let's roast a goat.” She looks every which way. Satisfied that no one is looking she conjures up a little flame.

“I don't know why you're so worried about getting caught. We can literally magic our way back to a magic dimension where they'll never find us.”

“Part of the thrill is getting chased by the authorities! And also if you want your spa treatment then we can't be in prison.”

“We won't be.” Icy replies as Bloom approaches the unsuspecting straw likeness of a goat. She imagines that someone, or a many someones, worked very hard to construct the creature.

“Right, your an escape artist.” Bloom recalls. “How many prisons have you broken out of?”

“Are we including multiple escapes from the same facility?

Bloom opens her mouth but instead of words, there is an explosion. A great rush of flame as the statue's underbelly catches flame. “Would you like to add to the destruction?”

Icy nods eagerly. “I very much would, yes.” The fire works quickly, climbing from the straw goat’s belly over its wooden ribcage. Icy considers the spectacle and what she could add to it. The horns seem to be flame resistant. She could perhaps freeze one of them and let it melt away.

She imagines that, that would draw some looks. It would anyhow, if it weren’t so early in the morning. 

A white-blue halo of magic sparkles on her pointer. She flies up and touches it to one of the antlers and watches flowers of frost burst over it. Spreading like creeping ivy until the entire horn is coated. Just a snap could shatter it entirely but she decides to just let Bloom watch it burn.

“Want some hot chocolate and marshmallows.”

“The goat fire is plenty warm enough, thank you.” Icy folds her arms across her chest. 

Bloom shrugs and pops a few marshmallows into her mouth. “Suit yourself.” 

.oOo.

Bloom dips her toe into the water. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about this anymore.”

“Uh-uh, you insisted that we go to this specific hotel because they offered an ice bathing opportunity. You don’t get to back out now.” 

Bloom inches slightly closer to the hole in the ice. “I mean the Lucia celebration is still going on. We could get one of those crowns. The ones with the candles on them…”

Icy raises her hand to silence the woman. “Yeah, no. I’ve had enough fire for today.” She watches the fairy dip her toe in for a second time, inducing a full body shiver. “The sooner you get in here, the sooner you get to go to the sauna.” She, of course, will be staying right out here where it is nice and cold. Where she can watch the steam roll out of the sauna from a distance where she won’t have to suffer its heat. 

Bloom takes a sharp and deep breath. “Alright.” She claps her hands. “Alright. Okay.” She exhales. “Alright. I’m gonna do this.” She slaps her hands together a second time and shakes them out. She shakes her whole body out. 

Icy rolls her eyes. “Enough shuffling, just get it over with.”

“Right. Okay. Ice bath, here we go.” Without giving herself time to back out she leaps into the water in front of Icy and yelps. “Oh. That’s cold! That’s really cold! Freezing, it’s freezing.” 

“How long have we been together now? And for how long before that did I entrap you in blocks of ice? This is much less intense but you are complaining so much more.” 

“I don’t have the distraction of battle to keep me from feeling the cold.” Bloom shivers. “And also, I’m pretty sure that you’re making it colder than it otherwise would be!” She accuses. 

Icy shrugs. “I might have taken away a few degrees, yes.” 

Bloom shivers again. “You’re the worst.”

Icy dips her head back, feeling the frost crystals form at her hairline. “Thank you. I do try.” Not too hard of course. Just hard enough to get herself a little extra attention now and then when it pleases her to have it. 

“Alright, I’m getting out now.”

“Already?” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that ice baths are meant to be a really quick in and out process. Which is probably why people are giving you weird and horrified looks right now.” 

“They can bask in their terror.” Icy props herself up on the ice, resting her head on her arms and letting her hair flow out behind her. She watches Bloom grab a towel and wrap it around herself. 

“Come here and join me.” Bloom pats a spot on a snow covered chair.

Icy pushes herself out of the water and squeezes her hair out.

“Look up.” Bloom points. 

Icy folds her arms across her chest and tilts her head up. Overhead, tendrils of teal and green coil in and out of themselves glowing against a navy backdrop. 

“Pretty aren’t they?” Bloom asks. “I’ve always wanted to see them. 

“We have something like where I come from.” And by comparison, these ribbons are dim and rather unimpressive. It is the surrounding scenery, she supposes, that makes the display worth remembering. The ice bath facility has a glow of its own, a golden candle-esque halo that warmly contrasts the northern lights’ frigid luminescence. Combined with the decor—mostly fir garlands with frosty needles and carefully placed LED tea lights—the atmosphere is cozy.

Icy can’t say that she is a fan of cozy, but it makes Bloom happy and she supposes that it is just as well. She lets the fairy throw that ridiculous fuzzy blanket of hers of both of their shoulders. “You know that the spa provided blankets and towels, right?”

“I like my blanket.” Bloom rests her chin on Icy’s shoulder and kisses her neck. She follows Icy’s gaze towards the sky. 

Icy supposes that this isn’t a bad way to spend her first Earth Christmas, although she is fairly certain that it is, in fact, not Christmas. That Christmas lasts just one day and not an entire month as Bloom had insisted. Of course the fairy refuses to tell her which day Christmas actually falls on…

No matter, she doesn’t mind the festivities so long as they are like the ones of today. They stand in silence for a good while, watching the lights slink and slither across the frozen surface of the lake until their light fades. She and Bloom linger there for a while still until the fairy reaches for her hand and tugs her towards the sauna.

[illwynd]

I am the very model of a modern Numenorean

I just remembered this and miraculously found a link

I am the very model of a modern Númenorean; My voice is clear and ringing and its volume is stentorian,. I'm Estel and I'm Aragorn, and Elessar and Strider, too I've hunted orcs and trolls and wargs, and sometimes a Black Rider, too. I'm pretty good at fighting and you'll find me where the dangers are; I'm fearless and invincible, as all the other Rangers are. My walking pace is what for lesser peoples would be scurrying - I never tell old Butterbur the reason for my hurrying.. He never tells old Butterbur the reason for his hurrying He never tells old Butterbur the reason for his hurrying He never tells old Butterbur the reason for his hurrying My sword is old and busted but I wield it with impunity And draw it out and flourish it at every opportunity. From Anduin to Arnor and from Cardolan to Lorien, I am the very model of a modern Númenorean.

I'm very good with herbs and stuff, my hands are deft and surgical; My power with things like athelas is almost thaumaturgical; I can summon back the Nazgûls' dying victims to reality, And track you down a Stoor with a divided personality; I got a gal in Rivendell who's centuries my senior, And rival even hobbits with my skill at Nicotinia. In all the wars of Gondor there is no-one who is gallanter - And no-one else who has the strength to look into a Palantir And no-one else who has the strength to look into a Palantir And no-one else who has the strength to look into a Palantir And no-one else who has the strength to look into a Palantir I can guide you from the northern ice to distant plains alluvial. And sing you all the songs about my ancestress Tinúviel: From Anduin to Arnor and from Cardolan to Lorien, I am the very model of a modern Númenorean.

In short, when Rhûn and Harad have been battered to docility, When Faramir has yielded up supreme responsibility, When all surviving orcs have switched to diets vegetarian, And when my son is reconciled to being called Eldarion: When Isengard has been secured so none get in or out of it And Gimli's lot have fixed the gates that Grond had knocked about a bit; When I have learnt from somebody the rudiments of government And a sapling of old Nimloth has consented to discoverment And a sapling of old Nimloth has consented to discoverment And a sapling of old Nimloth has consented to discoverment And a sapling of old Nimloth has consented to discoverment. To be the King of Gondor is my duty and I'm bound to it, And one day it may happen when I finally get round to it, From Anduin to Arnor and from Cardolan to Lorien, I'll be the very model of a monarch Númenorean.

I hurl myself against the foe with courage and avidity, And maybe just a soupcon of inherited stupidity. So if you want a sherpa for a toddle through the Hithaeglir, Or need a human champion who's not a jerk, like Boromir, Check out the heir of Isildur with any good historian; He'll tell you I'm the model of a modern Numenorian.

[anghraine]

I'm sleepy and bored, so I went back to thinning out my drafts folder. The furthest back is a longer scrap of fic, which apparently I was working on back on July 22nd, 2013:

-

When Éomer was a small boy and Éowyn still toddling about Aldburg, a stranger came through the Eastfold. At first, Éomer thought him a woman, for his long tunic could almost have been a gown, and then thought that he must be one of the Men of Gondor, for he was taller than Éomund and his unbraided hair was black and thick and very long. But it was not so. He was a merchant out of Harad.

To Éomer's bewilderment, his mother and father welcomed the merchant as warmly as if he had been the finest Rider in the Mark, and offered him provisions for the next leg of his journey. It was Éomund who explained to Éomer that the Southerner must have been a great warrior, and with his permission, showed Éomer the signs of it: the faded scars, the swordsman's calluses, the economical grace of his movements, the horseman's stride. The warrior-merchant explained that he had grown weary of war without end, and the strange demands and cults of Sauron, and as he knew something of metalsmithing, hoped to make a life for himself in the northern reaches of Eriador.

Years later, looking at the Steward of Gondor, Éomer was reminded forcibly of the man he had watched disappear into Fangorn all those years ago.

Lord Faramir was certainly every inch a man of Gondor—not, as his brother Boromir had been, one who might have been a Rider but for size and colouring. Faramir wore the robes of a pampered lord, his hair long and loose, and no beard had ever sprouted from his chin. Nor did he carry a weapon, unless one were to consider the white rod of his office as one.

Éomer did not. But in a single glance, he saw absent weapons in the other man's hands: the marks, unmistakable to a true warrior, of many years wielding sword or spear or bow. When the Steward rose and walked over to greet him, expression guarded, Éomer could see also that he must have spent a good deal of his life on horseback. He had few scars, which spoke well of his prowess. And yet—

And yet.

"My lord of Rohan," said Lord Faramir, bowing politely, but no more: not as king's servant to another king, but as one great lord to another. Éomer considered this and decided it pleased him.

It did not please him to be called lord of Rohan, true though it was. Even after so many days, he could not hear the title without expecting to find Théoden behind him, tall and hale as he had been in his last days. Éomer-King was a little better: but only a little.

"Lord Steward," he replied. Less shrewd sight would not have caught Faramir's start, less a wince than a hint of one.

Two pairs of keen grey eyes studied each other. As with Aragorn, Éomer met Faramir's eyes by looking straight ahead, not tilting his head down as he usually had to do.

"My sister tells me she intends to wed you," said Éomer.

Faramir, with a suspicious twitch of his lips, replied, "She has said much the same to me."

Despite himself, Éomer chuckled. "I do not doubt it."

"The day has been long. Would you care to sit down?" Faramir gestured at a cushioned bench not far away. By happy chance it was considerably higher than his chair, to which he returned. Éomer preferred standing to sitting, but nevertheless sat down.

"While I am no longer the Lord of Gondor's heir," Faramir began directly, "you may be assured that—"

Éomer waved this aside. "I know your lineage, lord. And I know well that Éowyn will receive more honour in Gondor, should you be wed, than she ever did in all her faithful service to Théoden-King."

"Lady Éowyn slew the king of the Nazgûl before the gates of our city," said Faramir. "For that alone she will always be accounted among the great in Gondor."

Éomer smiled. It would have been a fine death, but it was better still to live in renown and glory. And that would be the greater here, for though all in Edoras loved her and would sing of her deeds, it was to Mundburg that she had ridden, and the enemy of Gondor that she had slain. And were she also the Steward's lady, and princess over the second greatest fief in Gondor: yes, she would have fame enough.

"That is well," he said. "I know Éowyn my sister. I do not believe she would be content with less."

"Nor do I," said Faramir amicably. Though he seemed more like to Aragorn than Boromir in all things, he was clearly very much meeker. It was difficult to believe that Aragorn's place in her heart could be taken by this pleasant, tame shadow of him.

Éomer sprang to his feet. 

"Understand that this marriage is welcome and more to the Riddermark." He strode back and forth, Faramir's mild expression unwavering. "I know well that the Lord Denethor would not have chosen it. I speak now not as lord of Éowyn's house and people but as her elder brother."

Faramir inclined his head. "As would I speak, if you wished for the hand of a lady of my own kin." Suddenly, he smiled. "Speak freely, Éomer son of Éomund! For whether I gain my heart's desire or no, I foresee that we shall often have reason to counsel together. It will be Lord Aragorn who renews Cirion's gift upon Amon Anwar, but we are the heirs of Cirion and Eorl, you and I, and there should be unhindered speech between us."

"So we are," said Éomer, approving despite himself. He had not thought of it that way: not, in particular, thought of it at all. He looked on the Steward with a more kindly gaze. Mayhap, he thought, Eorl himself had not quite known what to think of Cirion. "Very well. Éowyn my sister was named, joy-in-horses, but little joy has been hers: less even than I feared. I wish for her happiness."

Faramir, rather to his surprise, did not hasten to assure him that he, or his land, would be that happiness. He only listened, expression attentive.

"What can she know of you, or you of her? I have seen many a marriage formed under the anxieties of war, and afterwards they are as strangers. I do not desire such a life for my sister, far from her home. I would not have her plight herself in"—despair and spite, Éomer thought, but could not quite bring himself to say—"in a strange mood. And I do not know you."

"You do not," Faramir agreed. "But your sister does. And your great friend, the Prince of Dol Amroth, will vouch for my character, if he has not done so already."

The Prince had, in fact, only spoken of the new Steward in the most glowing terms. The two men were, as Éomer recalled, kin of some kind.

[morgulscribe]

The Topography of Second Age Arda (Before the World Was Made Round)

Map of Second Age Arda from the Atlas of Middle-earth by Karen Wynn Fonstad.

I believe that Karen Wynn Fonstad was using older illustrations by Tolkien when creating some of the maps of unexplored lands, so I'm not sure if this map is completely accurate to Tolkien's concepts of Arda as a whole at the time of Lord of the Rings. Unfortunately, I doubt that we will never know for certain, so this map is probably as "canon" as it gets.

Since Arda is an alternative universe version of our own world, the face of Arda must change multiple times in order to appear as it does today, in the Seventh Age. I consider the landforms of Middle-earth to be somewhat compressed versions of the real world, with analogous landforms that have not yet evolved to their current appearance.

Eriador is analogous to Western Europe; Rhovanion is analogous to Eastern Europe and part of Asia. Middle-earth does not have a Mediterranean Sea, although the Bay of Belfalas does have a similar shape. Near Harad seems to encompass part of the region that the Mediterranean Sea would take up if it was dry land instead of water, as well as part of northern Africa and the Saudi Arabian peninsula. The continent of Far Harad appears to be a narrower prototype of Africa. (The First Age version of Far Harad looked more like modern day Africa, but part of the western region went beneath the waves after the War of Wrath.)

It is interesting to note that Middle-earth does not appear to have a corresponding river to the Nile. Far Harad does have a major river which starts in the Grey Mountains and runs southeast to the eastern coast. The only real world counterpart I could find that looks vaguely similar would be the Niger River.

The Girdle of Arda is the Equator, naturally.

I think that the bay between the words "Hinter" and "Lands" appears to be a proto-version of the Red Sea. The little peninsula which sticks up on the southern mouth of the bay resembles a tiny Horn of Africa.

The two eastern rivers which drain into the Inner Seas bear a slight resemblance to the Tigris and Euphrates.

The Orocarni, the Mountains of the East, might be ancient versions of the Ural Mountains.

I always thought that there should be more land to the east of the Orocarni Mountains, to accommodate the continent of Asia. Perhaps when the world was made round, Eru added more land to Middle-earth, making Rhun much larger than it was in the Second Age.

Possibly the separate continent called Dark Land (South Land) is later broken up, becoming the Indian Subcontient and Australia. A poster on this Reddit post claims that the Dark Land/South Land continent and the Walls of the Sun ceased to exist when the world was made round. Maybe Eru turned Dark Land/South Land into proto-versions of India and Australia, and the Walls of the Sun was added to Rhun, becoming the central and eastern parts of the continent of Asia.

It is my own personal theory that at some point during the Fourth Age, the face of Arda is changed once again, becoming what it looks like in modern days. As for why this great apocalypse occurs?

It's all SAURON'S fault, of course.

[hhimring]

Tolkienshortfanworks: a showcase

Showcasing some of the variety of work posted to the tolkienshortfanworks collection on AO3: the most recent pieces by ten authors: spanning ficlets and poetry, serious and humorous pieces, Silmarillion and Lord of the Rings canon, and a range of characters, themes and relationships.

This AO3 collection is for works written for the challenges and prompts  at the tolkienshortfanworks community on Dreamwidth.

Please note: Although I would rec all of these, this is NOT a top ten. For various reasons, it also cannot be a fully representative selection of the challenge responses and does not claim to be so. The order here is simply by date.

In Middle Earth Lived Elves (1931 words) by SonOfMandos Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Maglor (Tolkien), Fëanor (Tolkien), Blue Wizards, Alatar (Tolkien), Pallando (Tolkien), Galadriel (Tolkien), Oromë (Tolkien), Námo | Mandos, Manwë Súlimo Additional Tags: Prompt Fill, Back to Middle Earth, Crossposted from Dreamwidth, Crack Treated Seriously, Attempt at Humor, Fourth Age of Arda (Tolkien), Fëanor isn't too much of a nuisance this time, The blue wizards are, As wizards tend to be, Valar - Freeform, Harad, Valinor, unbeta'ed we die like Fëanor Summary:

“Amateur,” Galadriel muttered behind her teeth.

The Marsh Where the Dead Sleep (465 words) by Narya_Flame Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Additional Tags: Poetry, Horror, The Dead Marshes, Ghosts, children's songs - Freeform Series: Part 32 of The Mathom-house, Part 57 of Nárë a Lindalë Summary:

“They lie in all the pools, pale faces, deep deep under the dark water. I saw them: grim faces and evil, and noble faces and sad. Many faces proud and fair, and weeds in their silver hair. But all foul, all rotting, all dead...”

- 'The Passage of the Marshes' from The Two Towers by J. R. R. Tolkien.

Divine Things Well Envelop'd (918 words) by StarSpray Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Legolas & Gimli Characters: Gimli, Legolas Additional Tags: Fangorn Forest, Trees, Caves, Travel, Post-Canon, Friendship Series: Part 67 of Wisdom of the Evening Star Summary:

Legolas and Gimli pass through Fangorn Forest, and it isn't as bad as Gimli had expected.

Sanctuary Revisited (219 words) by Anerea Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ereinion Gil-galad/Erestor, Erestor & Glorfindel (Tolkien) Characters: Erestor (Tolkien), Glorfindel (Tolkien), Ereinion Gil-galad, Elrond Peredhel, Keiliss - Character Additional Tags: Ficlet, exes who are still friends, very old friends, Friendship, Modern Era, Elrond is still taking photos, Erestor and Glorfindel get a teeny bit nostalgic, Gil-galad ensures he's driving from now on, nineteen pink flamingoes, Reminiscing Summary:

Set in Keiliss' Sanctuary 'verse, where Erestor, Gil-galad, and Elrond road trip around modern day South Africa, looking for a missing Glorfindel. This takes place after they find him but before they return to Europe. I guess he wanted to take them to a special place special he knew, before they left.

Seven Lanterns (70 words) by Zdenka Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eärendil & Elrond Peredhel, Faramir & Boromir Characters: Fëanor, Finrod, Túrin Turambar, Elrond Peredhel, Gilraen (Tolkien), Faramir (Son of Denethor II) Additional Tags: The White Tree of Minas Tirith, Poetry, Lanterne Poem, Implied/Referenced Character Death Summary:

Seven poems in the lantern(e) form about various Tolkien characters.

A Star In The Darkness (887 words) by gabrielseven Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Angrod | Angaráto/Edhellos | Eldalótë Characters: Angrod | Angaráto, Aegnor | Ambaráto, Edhellos | Eldalótë, Original Female Elf Character(s) Summary:

Angrod's hopes for a new life in a strange new land with the object of the Noldor's wrath residing to the north, may not be as easy as he believes.

Beleriand Falling (222 words) by lferion Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Fixed-Length, Challenge Response, Community: fan_flashworks, Apocalypse, Beleriand, First Age, Weather Summary:

Was it the end of the world?

In This Together (222 words) by elennalore Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë/Maedhros | Maitimo Characters: Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë, Maedhros | Maitimo Additional Tags: Challenge Response, Ficlet, Himring, Secret Relationship, Kissing, Rain, Sea-longing (Tolkien) Summary:

Maedhros and Fingolfin scout the hills near Himring when a sudden change of the weather makes them seek shelter.

Signs of Spring (500 words) by LadyBrooke Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Finwë (Tolkien), Elulindo (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Hope, Cold Weather, Implied Hunger/Starvation Issues, Winter, Angst, Hopeful Ending Summary: Even the coldest winters end in time. Oromë may have left the Elves alone, but hope returns with the first flowers.

A Toast to the First-Day (991 words) by Linaewen Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Boromir (Son of Denethor II), Faramir (Son of Denethor II) Summary: The Men of Gondor stationed at Cair Andros celebrate the coming of the new year.

[urwendii]

Another double drabble. Day 3 introduces the "Dark Queen Arien AU" that @cilil and I have been obsessing about for some time.

Anarnur (Q): Servant of the Sun. the name given to Arien's handmaidens.

Anarmehtar (Q): Warrior of the Sun. Eönwë's title as Arien's Lieutenant and Commander of her armies.

Pairing: Mairon🔥 x Arien☀️ x Eönwë🦅 Rating: Teen Up

Day 3: Negotiations

They met on the stretch of land between their two kingdoms. Arien, in full ceremonial apparel, an impressive crown of gold and diamonds forged by Mairon was set on her amber hair looked resplendent. Her faithful Anarnur, Servants of the Sun standing at attention behind her while her Lieutenant flanked her left. Eönwë looked mighty in golden armor, his wings spanning all the way to the ground. 

Varda was smiling dangerously at them and Arien took note of how her husband was not by her side. Good. Let women deal with this in a wiser manner. She had told Mairon to remain behind as well. There was no need to pour oil on fire. Yet. 

The Elder Queen had only bothered with two Maiar, their faces hidden behind blue veils. Arien was fully aware that the Valië was powerful enough on her own, and it was the main reason behind seeking the peace treaty. They had a common enemy after all, that would ask all of her focus.

“Let’s begin the negotiations then.”

Day 4: Misunderstanding

There had been some misunderstanding Eönwë thought as he stepped into the room - all nerves alight - only to find Arien’s consort lying on the bed, sprawled like a giant fiery cat. Bare chest and watching him with a mischievous spark in his eyes Eönwë was all too familiar with. 

“Ah our lovely Anarmehtar.” Mairon exclaimed delightfully, using Eönwë’s title in a way that was both indecent and mocking. Squaring his shoulders Eönwë looked around the room, trying to ignore the state of undress of the Maia in front of him.

“I was told the Queen wanted to see me.”

The other man only hummed in agreement before getting on his feet with a feline agility that betrayed his nature. “She certainly did. Come, and make yourself at ease.” The other man crooned, a wide smirk as he circled Eönwë like a prey. 

“I'm good.” Eönwë shot back, wings shuddering when daft fingers combed through some of his feathers. 

“Yes, yes you are very much.” The innuendo was not lost on Eönwë who eyed the other Maia warily. Finally, still looking way too smug for Eönwë's taste, Mairon left his personal space and resumed his lazy position on the bed while opening a book. 

“We've been discussing some arrangements that need to be dealt with Harad.” 

“And that could not wait until the next council?” He answered sarcastically only to wince when a warm hand landed in the sensitive place of his shoulders, between his wings. 

“I think I should like the three of us to be at ease. It certainly makes for an interesting decision making process, don't you think?” 

Eönwë bowed, face flushed with embarrassment as Arien strode in the room, wearing a soft dress of dark burgundy silk that hugged her curves in an almost indecent manner. 

“Come Eönwë,” the Queen gestured as she too sat down on the bed, eyes alight with a teasing fire. 

[vandacarnelme]

One of my favourite quests in King's Gondor begins at Halach with Irodon.

You find this mystery supplier easily, an old soldier of Harad dressed in lordly attire named Asórkho, pouring over some sacks.

The quest ends here, but on returning to Halach later you find-!

Asórkho in Halach, with he and Irodon in conversation :')

[fandomshatewomen]

here's the website!!!

here's the two posts from bluesky that are in the image above

Alyssa Harad @alyssaharad.bsky.social

My friend Stacey Swann just launched a protest campaign for TX House as a Dem in the heavily GOP district of Lampasas. She does not expect to win. She wants to use the campaign to GOTV and keep abortion rights in the political conversation in TX and I think she'll succeed. www.staceyfortexas68.com

Sarah Tuttle @niais.bsky.social

For folks who have decided to go straight to despair before our presidential election has really started (yes, the sideshow is large. Yes, everyone loves writing articles about trump supporters).... I'd really encourage you to find a cause/interest/battle and fight.

[x-authorship-x]

Authorshipp i love shisui sm but i kinda have trouble following your series cos idk where they start and where they end and which ones connected to each other? 😭 do you have a directory or smth sksksk or are they different settings where the same thing was that shisui never died? Thaankss btw

Hey! ✨

I totally understand the confusion, I only have one proper multi-fic series but there's a lot of topical and thematic overlap, so let's see if I can't clear this up a bit~

I'll colour code what fics in my series are directly connected, what fics are crossovers, when a fic is a (collection of) one-shots, and note when my headcanons (like teammates, Mangekyou shenanigans etc) are particularly important.

This list is predominantly Shisui-centric but I have included a few of my general Narutoverse ones (few though they may be)

Eyes SERIES: Shisui doesn't die, whether that's by AU, Time Travel, or Reincarnation

No Tomorrow: Shisui wakes up two months before he dies. Inoichi-Shisui platonic. Squad Two (Kakashi, Shisui, Genma, Raidou, Tenzo). Mangekyou shenanigans.

In The Eye of the Beholder: Shisui and Tobi time travel to the Warring Clans Era. Squad Two mention. Mangekyou shenanigans.

WARD: Konohan Orphans are raised by the State. Shisui, Gai, Kakashi, Anko etc found family.

Messenger: Shisui interrupts Minato's fight with the masked attacker on the night the Kyuubi is released. Shisui-Inoichi platonic. Mangekyou shenanigans.

The Red Ally: Naruto/LotR. Shisui is the Tenth Walker in the Fellowship.

A Concept of Loyalty: Shisui kills Danzo when he steals his eye. Mangekyou shenanigans.

And All The Stars Seemed Closer: One-shot collection. Shisui pairings. Mangekyou shenanigans. Squad Two mention.

THE 'A' IN ANBU STANDS FOR SURPRISE ADOPTION: Shisui and his ANBU Squadmates (Kakashi, Genma, Raidou, Tenzo) accidentally gain a reputation for child-rearing. Squad Two mention.

New Leaf: Shisui is reincarnated to the Warring Clans Era. Mangekyou shenanigans.

HOPE AU: I hope you'll reach those places SERIES

Part One (WATER): No Tomorrow: Shisui wakes up two months before he dies. Inoichi-Shisui platonic. Squad Two (Kakashi, Shisui, Genma, Raidou, Tenzo). Mangekyou shenanigans.

Part Two (AIR): Until Dawn Breaks: post-NoT, Shisui battles trauma on a special mission, facing new enemies and a few unfortunately familiar ones too. Inoichi-Shisui platonic. Squad Two (Kakashi, Shisui, Genma, Raidou, Tenzo). Mangekyou shenanigans.

Tomorrowland: One-shot collection in the HOPE AU-verse, some Alternative Universe, some what-ifs, some directly from the series-canon.

☆ෆ°*｡☆Authorship Ficlet Fest '22-23!☆｡*ﾟෆ☆ SERIES

Collection of One-shot prompts (see my submission post in the #Torship tag) for 2022-23. So far, all ficlets include Inoichi-Shisui platonic and/or Squad Two mention.

Arda Adventures SERIES

The Red Ally: Naruto/LotR. Shisui is Tenth Walker in the Lord of the Rings Fellowship.

He Bled Red As Dawn: Naruto/LotR/Atlantis crossover. Uzushio is the Lost City that sank beneath the surface millennia ago. When Gandalf falls whilst battling the Balrog of Moria, Shisui, accompanied by Crystal-Heart-Kushina, finds him.

The Red Istari: Naruto/LotR. Shisui wakes in the Southern Harad Desert after dying in canon. Becoming known as 'The Red Demon', he sets off in search of answers and his own kind... namely, 'The Grey Istari'. Culture, World-building, Mangekyou shenanigans.

Yamanaka Shisui SERIES

Some of my fics that centre on my headcanon-ed Shisui-Inoichi platonic bond.

Never Trust A Blonde (Especially If You Don't Know They're One): Naruto/HP crossover. After finishing his mysterious summer internship at the Department of Mysteries, Shisui is in for a surprise when the time comes for himself and his fellow sixth-years to be assigned their Mentees. Shisui-Inoichi platonic.

Tomorrowland: One-shot collection in the HOPE AU-verse, some Alternative Universe, some what-ifs, some directly from the series-canon. Shisui-Inoichi platonic. Mangekyou shenanigans.

Messenger: Shisui interrupts Minato's fight with the masked attacker on the night the Kyuubi is released. Shisui-Inoichi platonic. Mangekyou shenanigans.

Tumblr Drabbles:

Fics directly crossposted from asks I've answered here. Some are connected to the HOPE AU, some are not. Ask games are linked in the endnotes.

KAGE SERIES

Wherein I make an argument for Hokage candidates

MIGHTY: Kakashi refuses to become Godaime. His favourite quip for shirking duty is 'make Gai do it'. At the end of his patience, the Sandaime decides to do just that. The future significantly improves, when you think about it.

SUKEBAN: Kakashi and Tenzo accidentally circulate the news that the Senju Clan has a male Heir. Tsunade absolutely isn't going to let a rumour like that go untouched. The village falls apart and is mended in very short order.

Timeline:

(excluding oneshot collections as timings may vary)

Starts when Shisui is a child:

WARD

Messenger

Yeah Kunai are cool... But have you had dessert?

Starts before Shisui's Canon Death/Age:

THE 'A' IN ANBU STANDS FOR SURPRISE ADOPTION

He Bled Red As Dawn

SUKEBAN

Starts at/after Shisui's Canon Death/Age:

HOPE AU (No Tomorrow, Until Dawn Breaks)

In The Eye of The Beholder

The Red Ally

A Concept Of Loyalty

New Leaf

The Red Istari

MIGHTY

Hope this helps!

[stuff-silm-server-says]

The Steampunk Silmarillion Lore (part 1/?)

Since multiple people expressed a certain level of curiosity and I am currently very bored, I have decided to share some bits of our Silm AU.

The story takes place in Tirion, the largest elven city of Arda. There is a reason for its size - unlike the rest of Arda, Tirion underwent a surprising level of industrialization and is currently the leading economic and military power with several colonies. The only rival in the field of technology is some human kingdoms, especially Harad ones which are often under attack for their rich resources of coal and eventually petroleum. The citizens of Tirion are not aware of the existence of any other elves.

The Society of Tirion

Life in the Kingdom of Tirion is not easy. At least, unless you are rich. While you will probably get hit by a steam (or even petroleum!) powered car in Tirion while admiring the impressive architecture of the Taniquetil, life in the countryside is significantly harder. Money is everything - it means food for the family, education for the children, access to healthcare, and finally, respect.

All of the elves aren't equal and we have a perfect example of a stratified society. We have the rulers - Valar. This group is a mystery to all of the citizens of Tirion as they are seen very rarely and they spend most of their lives in the palaces of Thaniquetil.They are the indisputable authority and they are believed to have created the whole Arda thousands of years ago.

The executioners of their will are Vanyar - the fairest of the peoples of Arda and they are the only ones allowed to enter the Thaniquetil palace. They make an interesting mix of clergy and police as they make sure no laws are being broken. Their only loyalty is to the Valar and they are known for extremely harsh upbringing and discipline. Since there are not enough of them and they are all related, they found two possible solutions - marrying the other elven ethnicities (meaning Noldor) or... Inbreeding. And unfortunately, the latter choice is considered better. The head of the Police department of Tirion is Ingwë, who also happens to be the leader of the Vanyar.

The Noldor are the ones keeping the economy going by owning the business, working in the factories, or agriculture. The Noldorin nobles are often focusing on studies - mostly arts and sciences. While the Vanyar are focused on religion, the Noldorin focus is mostly material.

And then there are the Sindar - former indigenous people of the forests that were destroyed by the wood mining. Having lost their homes, the Sindar moved to Tirion to seek compensation for their loss. All those freedom-loving elves got was racial segregation. Most of the Sindar are unable to get any employment and therefore there is many of them ending up on the streets. There are many laws limiting the Sindarin rights: they can't even marry formally. However, some of them managed to gain some respect by their extensive knowledge of nature and healing.

There are multiple ongoing issues in the Tyrionian society, including

Unpaid labor - when finding workers, certain factories offer a competitive salary that can only compete with the work camp - rumors say that many Angband industries are not getting paid, and the worker housing quality is atrocious. The owner of the company is Vala and the “king of innovation” Melkor with lord Mairon as his chief executive officer.

Discrimination - the Sindar are more likely to become a target of violence, sometimes even including police brutality.

Healthcare - the average lifespan of an elf in Tirion is around two hundred years, but this number is influenced by the rich who can afford their relax and the best healthcare. Some of the working class elves only live up to 100 years and then fading away as the result of exhaustion.

You can expect more of these posts describing certain aspect of the lore in more detail.

In fact, you can even decide what!

[sabin1108]

OCs Profile

-----Divinity: Original Sin 2-----

Edgarax Thoasz (Edgar)

Also Known as: Edgar, Shade

Race: Lizard

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Height: 218cm

Class: Rogue

Weapon: Dagger

Tags: Outlaw & Noble

Occupation: Advisor, Heir to Thoasz family patriarch & Leader of 'Shadows'

Associates: The House of Law, Thoasz family, Thieves gang (Formerly), Shadows

Known to his close ones as Edgar, is an advisor and successor to the patriarch of the Thoasz family - One of the most influential families in the Ancient Empire. In his youth, he frequently snuck out at night to learn the skills of a rogue from a band of thieves. The skills eventually proved to be invaluable, as Edgar would later secretly lead a covert group named 'Shadows' - dedicated to liberating slaves within the Ancient Empire. There are many who seek for his blood, and unbeknownst to him, it was hidden under the very shadow he commands.

Lyon Midford

Also Known as: Lyon, Paladin Midford

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Height: 186cm

Class: Knight

Weapon: Two-handed weapon

Tags: Soldier & Noble

Occupation: Paladin for the Divine Order

Associates: The Divine Order, The House of Midford, The Knight of Alburn (Formerly)

The son of the Count from the house of Midford and a member of the noblest Divine Order - The Paladin, Lyon is highly respected and beloved by both his comrades and his people. Apart from his relentless dedication and hard work, it's his ability to control source that saw him rise through the ranks of the Divine Order. The unwavering light of this Paladin began to dim when the Divine Order ceased the use of source and ordered all sourcerers to be captured. The darkness within the Divine Order may yet be enough to overshadow his light.

Navier Harad

Also Known as: Navier, Butterfly, Doll

Race: Elf

Age: 31

Gender: Female

Height: 215cm

Class: Blood Mage (Necromancer)

Weapon: Staff & wands

Tags: Scholar & Mystic

Occupation: Trader & Scholar

Associates: -

Born in the Elven Land, Navier possesses an insatiable hunger for knowledge. She moved to the Great City of Arx at a young age with her mother to pursue further studies and explore the outside world, leaving her father -a Scion- to manage affairs back in the Elven Land. Everything changed when the Chaos War erupted, unleashing Deathfog that destroyed her homeland. She went back to search for her father, hoping to find him alive. Fate took a dark turn as she disappeared for years, only to be found collared and ready to be sent to Fort Joy.

Relationship Chart

Official Spotify Playlist

------- Final Fantasy XIV -------

Cedric Eirwyn

Also Known as: Warrior of Light, Warrior of Darkness.

Race: Highlander Hyur

Age: 35

Gender: Male

Height: 200cm

Class: Dragoon

Weapon: Spear/Lance

Origin: Ul-dah (Before ARR), Gridania (ARR)

Occupation: Miner (Formerly), Scions (Formerly), Adventurer (Currently)

Associates: Scions of the Seventh Dawn

------DnD/Baldur's Gate 3------

Fannar

Also Known as: Lizard, Reptile (Mostly as an insult)

Race: White Dragonborn

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Height: 190cm

Origin: Criminal

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Class: Draconic Sorcerer / Oath of Ancient Paladin (BG3)

Fun fact:

- His name means "Snowdrift".

- He was abandoned as a baby during a snowstorm. A human couple adopted him and raise him as their own.

- He really loves his adopted parents and likes to send money every month to them

- He loves to eat and willing to do anything for food.

- He's clumsy and can "accidentally" harmed someone

- in BG3, he is a paladin. He has a habbit of throwing people around. This includes people.

Edit 08/01/2024: New Profile Update + Scale

Edit 23/03/2024: Relationship Chart

Edit 10/04/2024: New updated full-body illustration

Edit 19/07/2024: Add Cedric and Fannar