#i am once again thinking about frodo baggins

[winwin17]

Are you afraid of Scary Bilbo?

Maybe, but ...

Does it change your view of Bilbo's entire character? Does it make you decide Bilbo is evil and corrupt at heart? Does it cause you to deride Bilbo for greed and selfishness in spite of all his heroic deeds?

No?

Then why do you do that to Boromir?

When Boromir tried to take the Ring from Frodo, it was his equivalent to the "HRRAAGHH!!" Bilbo moment.

Think back to the moment when Bilbo at Rivendell asked Frodo just to see the Ring, and in one fleeting instant Frodo saw, not the Bilbo he knew, but "a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands." The flash of vision scared Frodo so bad he felt a desire to strike Bilbo. Frodo was terrified.

And then the next moment, Bilbo was himself again. The book itself describes the moment thus: "Bilbo looked quickly at Frodo 's face and passed his hand across his eyes. 'I understand now,' he said. 'Put it away! I am sorry: sorry you have come in for this burden; sorry about everything.'"

My friends, this is not that different from what happened with Boromir. He pressed Frodo to show him the Ring, and then became so intense about it that Frodo was terrified Boromir would take the Ring by force. Just like he'd been terrified of Scary Bilbo. Because, just as that was frighteningly not like the true Bilbo, this action was also not like the true Boromir.

Sadly, Frodo did not get the chance to hear Boromir's repentant apology and weeping once the moment of madness had passed. He got to hear Bilbo say, "I am sorry; sorry about everything!" But he did not get to hear Boromir say, "What have I said? What have I done?" nor his confession to Aragorn, "I tried to take the Ring from Frodo. I am sorry."

And what did Bilbo want the Ring for at that point in his life anyway? What would he do with its power? Get revenge on his petty relatives? Acquire riches and pipe-weed to last a lifetime? On the other hand, Boromir wanted the Ring as a final desperate hope to save his city, his home, his family, and his people. Being of a noble heart, he viewed the Ring as the only possible way to protect and defend others. It could be said that he was somewhat selfish and desired glory of his own through his efforts, but then again, wouldn't it be called selfishness for Bilbo to get revenge on the Sackville-Baggins, or store up wealth and riches for himself, or hoard all the pipe-weed he could want? Perhaps he would have had loftier thoughts and intentions to use it against Sauron - but then that would simply be a twin vision to Boromir's.

The point is, no one loses confidence in the character of Bilbo or his true-heartedness because of that one scary moment when he is almost overcome by lust for the Ring. And yet Boromir gets villainized for the same thing.

Say it with me, folks: "Boromir was no more of a villain in his temporary madness for the Ring than Scary Bilbo was!"

[daydreaming136]

Kili Durin x F!READER (Modern female)

Pairings: Kili x Reader slight Fili x Reader if you squint lol

Tags: modern reader female, isekai, waking up in the hobbit, death, romance, adventure, magic, dwarves, elves, everyone lives AU!, eventual smut,

Author notes: hi this is my first time writing for the hobbit hopefully someone will like it ❤️ please be kind in the comments and don’t be afraid to message me any questions ❤️

When I opened my eyes I saw a beautiful blue sky and the sun shining bright there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I sat up suddenly there was a pain in my stomach I winced and hissed. I lifted my shirt to look for any injury and didn’t find any. Then I realized the pain went away, I blinked a few times and thought back about my day and how I got here. The day went on as usual woke up spent some time to myself, which includes coffee and some gaming. Got ready for work, shower, brushed teeth, a pair of jeans and a button down shirt, a pair of shoes which were dirty from working in them. I drove to work, clocked in, put my Home Depot apron on, got stabbed by some crazed customer, clocked out, drove home…wait what? Let me back up a bit. I got stabbed by some crazed customer?? I lifted my shirt up again but didn’t see a stab mark. I huffed and got up. “Did I die? Is this heaven?” I chuckled. “Well I didn’t think I’d end up in heaven.” I looked around but didn’t see a person or angel in sight. I looked for any sign of life and saw smoke a few miles away. “I guess I’ll start there.” I walked towards where the smoke was residing. I walked into a small village. I mean literally small because the people were small and everything in the village was small. The people reminded me of hobbits with their pointy ears and big hairy feet. I walked to what looked like a market place. I thought I saw Bilbo baggins from the hobbit at one point but decided to kept walking. Til I recognized a familiar gray pointy hat. I sped up my pace and grabbed the persons sleeve. “Excuse me.” Once the man turned around I immediately recognized the man. “Yes my lady?” I felt my eyes go wide from shock. “Um I-I…” my words died from my mouth as I looked at his face longer. Gandalf raised his brow, “are you alright my dear?” I blinked realizing I’ve been staring at him. “You’re Gandalf the grey, right?” He looked at me up and down, staring at me questioning. “Indeed I am, and you are?” I realized I was making a fool out of myself I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Mr. Gandalf my name is Y/N and i know I’m going to sound crazy but I believe I ended up in either The Hobbit or Lord Of The Rings. Please believe me when I say that I’m not trying to do any harm to you or Bilbo or Frodo or Thorin.” He stared at me hard then he started to smile. “Well my dear why don’t we walk and talk.” I nodded and began to walk beside him. “So let’s start from the beginning.” I swallowed and started my tale of the hobbit careful enough to not give anything important away. “Hm. Well I do believe you my lady for I just talked to Bilbo not too long ago.” I smiled. “Thank goodness. Please let me join you and the company to take back the lonely mountain, with my knowledge I can help.” He thought for a moment and nodded. “Alright. Let’s get you some supplies for the journey ahead.” We hit the market again getting me a bedroll and some feminine products I’ll need. Then he lead me to a familiar hole in the ground. “This is bilbos place isn’t it?” Gandalf nodded. “I need to do something for a bit wait for me here til I return.” I nodded. “Okay.” He began to walk away. “Oh and Y/N do stay out of trouble.” I chuckled. “You got it.”

Hours went by I ended up on the grass and took a nap. It was hard not to when the sun felt nice on my skin and the grass felt comfortable. I was startled awake by a shake to my shoulder. When I opened my eyes I was met with brown and blue eyes. “Miss why are you sleeping out here?” I blinked and sat up. “Oh sorry I must’ve dozed off waiting for Gandalf.”

���Gandalf? Are you the new member uncle was telling us?” I nodded. “Probably, Gandalf told me to wait here for him, are you heading to Mr. Baggins?” They nodded. “He should be here soon why don’t we head in while we wait?” I bit my lip and nodded. “Okay I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m Y/N by the way.”

“I’m Fili and this is my brother Kili.” I nodded to Kili noticing him not saying anything. The three of us walked toward Bilbos home. Fili rang the doorbell. And we waited for the hobbit to open the door. Bilbo opened the door. Bilbo whimpered when he saw the three of us. “Fili.” Fili introduced himself “Kili.” Kili finally spoke. “And Y/N.” I introduced myself. The two dwarves bowed their heads. “At your service.” I nodded towards Bilbo. “You must be Mr. Boggins.”

“Nope! You can’t come in. You’ve come to the wrong house.” Bilbo went to close the door but Kili stopped him. “What? Has it been canceled?” The door was pushed back open a bit. “No one told us.” Fili walking close behind his brother. “No, nothings been canceled.” Bilbo said confused about what the dwarves were implying. “That’s a relief.” Kili pushed the door open more and walked in Fili and I followed after. “Sorry Mr. Baggins.”I say give him a sympathetic look. I could tell he was already getting frustrated. “Careful with these. I just had ‘em sharpened.” Fili began to take off his weapons. I walked in looking around the hobbits home. “The movies really didn’t do this place justice.” I muttered under my breath. Kili walking around. “It’s nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?” Kili asked. Without Bilbo paying attention Kili began to take the mud off his shoes on Bilbos mother’s chest. I bit the inside of my cheek wanting to tell him not to do that because it is Bilbos mother’s chest. “What? No, it’s been in the family for years.” Bilbo finally realized what Kili was doing. “That’s my mother’s glory box! Can you please not do that?” Bilbo was angry. Then Dwalin walked in and grabbing Kili’s shoulder leading him farther in the house. “Fili, Kili. Come on. Give us a hand.” All of us walked into what looked like a dining room. “Let’s shove this in the hallway, otherwise we’ll never get everyone in.” Bilbo stammered. “Everyone? How many more are there?” I grabbed Fili’s weapons. “Here I’ll take these Mr. Baggins.”

“Th-thank you. Do you know what’s going on.” I smiled slyly and put Fili’s weapons somewhere out of the way. Suddenly the doorbell rang again. Bilbo feeling very frustrated walked towards the door. “Oh, no. No. No. There’s nobody home! Go away and bother somebody else! There’s far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If this is some clot-heads idea of a joke…ha! Ha! I can only say it is in poor taste.” He opened the door I could hear the dwarves falling on the floor in the entrance of the hobbits home. I followed after Bilbo. Seeing the dwarves on the floor I giggled watching them grunt and groan. “Ah. There you are my lady I thought I told you to stay put.” I smiled. “Sorry I ran into Fili and Kili they said you would be here soon and well here you are.” Bilbo looked at Gandalf. “Gandalf.”

Soon everyone was in the dining room they were passing ales and food. Having a grand old time, I ate a bit myself. I grabbed a jug of ale and took a few gulps. I giggled some more seeing poor Bilbo tell the dwarves to put his food back from his pantry. Food was going left and right the dwarves drinking and eating. “Ale! Going one, two, three!” They were all chugging their drinks. A few letting out some burps. I laughed amongst them. Once they all finished eating they began to clean up I joined in obviously. “‘Scuse me but where do I put my plate?” Ori asked Bilbo. Fili walked up grabbing the plate from him. “Here you go, ori. Give it to me.” He tossed it to Kili who caught it without a problem and tossing it to Bifur. They were tossing all the dishes to get cleaned. I heard the dwarves clatter the silverware. “And can—can you not do that? You’ll blunt them.”

“Ooh, do you hear that, lads? He says we’ll blunt the knives.” They began to bang their shoes amongst the floor, making a beat. “ Blunt the knives, bend the forks.” Kili began to sing. “Smash the bottles and burn the corks.” Fili followed. “Chip the glasses and crack the plates.”

“That’s what Bilbo baggins hates!” They all sang together. I danced a bit to their song. “Cut the cloth tread on the fat. Leave the bones on the bedroom mat. Pour the milk on the pantry floor. Smash the wine on every door. Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl. Pound them up with a thumping pole. When you’re finished, if they are whole. Send them down the hall to roll. That’s what Bilbo baggins hates!” They all laughed after the song was finished. Suddenly there was a loud banging on the door everyone quieted down. I looked at Gandalf. “He is here.” Bilbo and Gandalf walked to the door, I followed them. Gandalf opened the door for Thorin. “Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way. Twice. I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.”

“Mark? There’s no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago.” Gandalf closed the door after Thorin walked in. “There is a mark. I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins. Y/N. Allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield.” I bowed my head a bit to be polite. “So..this is the hobbit and Gandalfs assistant. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?” Thorin circled Bilbo. “Pardon me?”

“Axe or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?”

“Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know.” I crinkled a bit. “But I fail to see why that’s relevant.”

“I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” The dwarves laughed at Thorins comment. I felt a little sympathy for Bilbo. The dwarves all walked to the dining room it was just Bilbo, Gandalf, and I. “Your assistant aye.” I crossed my arms under my chest. Gandalf smiled. “Well I couldn’t just tell them you’re from another world now could I.” I nodded. “Alright, I guess it could work for now.”

I sat next to Fili and Kili at the dining table. “What need from the meeting in Ered Luin?” Balin asked Thorin. “Did they all come?”

“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.”

“And what did the dwarves of the iron hills say? Is Dain with us?” Dwalin asked. “They will not come.” Thorin answered.

“They say this quest is ours and ours alone.”

“You’re going on a quest?” Bilbo asked standing behind Gandalf. “Y/N, help my dear fellow Bilbo, let us have a little more light.” I nodded helping Bilbo bring some candles out. “Far to the east…over ranges and rivers… beyond woodlands and wastelands… lies a single, solitary peak.”

“The lonely mountain.”

“Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time!” Glóin said. “Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. When the birds of yore return to erebor, the reign of the beast will end.”

“What beast?” Bilbo asked curiously. “That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible. Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather. Teeth like razors. Claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.” Bofur described Smaug. “Yes, I know what a dragon is.” Suddenly Oir stood up. “I’m not afraid. I’m up for it. I’ll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!”

“Good lad, Ori!” Nori cheered on the dwarf. “Sit down.” Dori told him. “The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us..but we number in just 16. And not 16 of the best…nor brightest.” That gave a bit of commotion. “We may be few in number… but we’re fighters. All of us! To the last dwarf.” Fili cheered on. “And you forget, we have a wizard in our company along with his assistant. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.” I bit back a laugh. “Oh, well, no. I-I-I wouldn’t say—,”

“How many, then?” Dori asked. “What?”

“How many dragons have you killed?” All the dwarves looked at Gandalf as he choked on his smoke. “Go on. Give us a number.” I watched as they fought amongst themselves. I pushed myself against the wall. “Uh, excuse me. Please.” Bilbo tried to talk to the dwarves when Thorin spoke up. “No more!” They all went silent. “If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look west to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast of our wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back erebor?!” They all cheer til Balin cuts in. “You forget: the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.”

“That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” Gandalf brought out a key showing it to the dwarves. “How came you by this?” Thorin asked. “It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now.” Gandalf handed Thorin the key. “If there is a key…there must be a door.” Fili thought out loud. Gandalf showed them the writing on the map. “These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.”

“There’s another way in.” Kili spoke happily. “Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in middle earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believer that it can be done.”

“That’s why we need a burglar.” Ori concluded. “Hmm. And a good one too.” All eyes were on Bilbo. “An expert, I’d imagine.”

“And are you?” Glóin asked. Bilbo looked around realizing that he asked him. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert! Hey!”

“Me? No. No, no. I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

“Well, I’m afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He’s hardly burglar material.” Balin replied.

“Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” Dwalin looked at bilbo and I. I felt a little offended. “C’mon Dwalin they’ll manage just fine.” Bilbo agreed what the dwarf said while I bit my tongue holding back insults. The dwarves talked amongst themselves. Then Gandalf made the house grow dark. Gandalf stood as tall as he could in the small hobbits house and in a loud and scary voice, “Enough! If I say Bilbo baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is. And you will talk to my assistant with more respect. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him. My assistant here also has some insight about our quest which will be useful in taking back the lonely mountain. Smaug will not see us coming. You asked me to find the 14th member of this company, and I have found 2. There’s a lot more to them than appearances suggest. And they both got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including themselves.” I could tell he was mainly talking to Bilbo. “You must trust me on this.” Gandalf finished. Thorin seemed to take Gandalfs words seriously. “Very well. We will do it your way.” Bilbo doesn’t seem convinced though. “No.no.”

“Give them the contract.” Thorin looked at Balin. Balin took out a folded paper and handed it to Bilbo. “It’s just the usual. Summary of out of pocket expenses…time required, remuneration…funeral arrangements, so forth.” Bilbo seemed stunned by the words ‘funeral arrangements.’

“Funeral arrangements?” I placed my hand on bilbos shoulder, “it’ll be alright.” He opened the folded contract. Bilbo walked off to read the contract. Thorin leaned close to Gandalf talking about something important no doubt. “Terms: cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding 1/14th of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Present company shall not be liable for any injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to lacerations…evisceration…incineration?” I giggled a bit at bilbos reaction. “Oh, aye. He’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.” Bilbo seemed to pause at that. All the dwarves took notice, “are you all right, laddie?” Balin asked the small hobbit. Bilbo put his hands on his knees,” yeah.” Bilbo seemed to try to process this, taking a few deep breaths. “Feel a bit faint.” I felt a bit sympathetic for poor Bilbo besides knowing he’ll be alright. “Bilbo?” I asked concerned for the hobbit, but it seems another dwarf had other intentions. “Think furnace with wings.” Bofur got up from his seat. I looked at the dwarf with eyes to plead to him to stop. “Air. I-I-I need air.” Bilbo looked like he was going to get sick. “Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You’re nothing more than a pile of ash.” I bit my lip watching the scene play out. Bilbo tried his best to keep calm and to not faint, but he failed. “Nope.” And he went down. I closed my eyes and sighed, “now you’ve done it. Good going Bofur.” I put my hands on my hips. “Oh, very helpful, Bofur.” Gandalf sarcastically said. I grabbed the contract picked up a quill and signed my name, handing it to Balin. “There you go.” Balin looked at the signature. “Welcome to the company, my lady.” I bowed my head and he did the same. The company helped poor Bilbo up and onto his comfy armchair. He was well awake and holding a cup of tea. “I’ll be all right. Just let me sit quietly for a moment.” Gandalf smoking his pipe seemed to get angry at the small hobbit. “You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long. Tell me, when did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you?” Remembering this moment I decided to leave Gandalf and Bilbo to their conversation joining the dwarves in the other room. Fili and Kili walked up to me,” is Mr. Boggins all right?” I nodded. “Yes but he and Gandalf are having a serious conversation so I’d wait if you want to talk to him.” Kili nodded. “Do you think he’ll come?”

“No way brother, Mr. Boggins is way too comfortable here.” Fili responded. “I think he’ll come.” I smiled a little. “Why did you not faint, don’t dragons scare you?” Kili asked, I chuckled a bit, “of course they do but I also think dragons are cool. Seeing one up close sure would be a story to tell one day, that’s if I make it.” I know the story of them but what of me technically I died who knows what’ll happen to me here. “Cool? Dragons are not cool, remember what Bofur said. Furnace with wings.” Fili reminded me, I laughed. “Yes, yes. I remember I just meant they’re majestic, and also terrifying.” I have to remind myself that ‘cool’ isn’t a normal slang term in this world. In that moment Bilbo was walking past us going to what I believe is his bedroom. Kili and Fili suddenly left me to join the other dwarves in the living room. I began to hear humming and singing from the living room, remembering Thorin singing the misty mountain. I sat outside of the room listening to the beautiful sound but also hearing the mournful sound in Thorins voice. I vowed to myself I’ll make sure the durin line will survive once we arrived at the lonely mountain. Leaving my place in the hobbits home I walked outside took a place near the entrance of the hobbits home and fell asleep.

[mischieffoal]

Rosie, Frodo and Sam, Now and for Always

Here it comes: Cici’s chaotic “review” of Lord of the Rings: a Musical Tale

(Spoilers for the musical: go and see it (it's running until mid-October 2023) and then read this)

“My emotions are a wreck, and now we must obviously discuss all of the musical’s shortcomings and its adaptational choices and the costumes, when I really want to stand in a field and yell. After a few hours on the train of actually very good discussions, I cycle home and yell in the park.

5 stars.”

Nothing like a bracing sprint through Reading station to forge fine friendships over somehow managing to get to Newbury and the Windmill Theatre in time. We unite with our friends, get a group photo in the designated Instagram spot and, most importantly, confirm that there will be ice cream in the interval. 

It’s Mr. Bilbo’s eleventy-oneth birthday, didn’t you know? The hobbits make sure we are well informed, and someone on our picnic table is accosted by Fatty Bolger and made to play whack the rat. They all look lovely, waistcoats and sandals abounding, and some watching fauntlings are very gently introduced to hoopla. In general, if you are LARP-positive, sit at the left hand end - we were in the prime spot. Bilbo complimented my cloak and I derided my companions once again for being the only cloaked representative of our smial. Then, someone else approaches - she asks us if Mr. Bilbo said anything odd. Nothing odd at all, we reply, all a perfectly normal party. I think he’s planning something, she says. I’m worried about my spoons. I gasp. “Madam, may I ask, are you perhaps Lobelia Sackville-Baggins?” “I am!” “Madam it is an honour! I am honoured to be in your presence!” She shakes my hand. My life is complete. 

Soon enough, the actual musical begins, narrated by partying Hobbits. Now and for Always had stuck in my head just from the soundtrack on YouTube, and it’s a worthy start to the show as Mr. Bilbo tells the same old stories that he always does. Hobbits sing and dance and every one of them plays an instrument. Someone has a piccolo, someone else has a lute. Bilbo has a harmonica and an accordion. Every single Hobbit has an unspecified country accent. The Brandybucks are loud, the Proudfoots are Proudfeet and Fatty Bolger moans at me about it. R says he knows who’s playing Gollum, because he’s bald. Frodo is very sweet, but I catch Lobelia’s eye across the garden and commiserate with her at her ill fortune. Sam asks Rosie to dance, and I fall in love with them (Sam is Sri Lankan, and sounds it, and Rosie has Afro hair, and they make me very happy). Bilbo gives his speech, “magically disappears”, and 17 years pass as we all get up and troop into the theatre proper.

We’re on the side of the balcony, in a wonderful wooden interior that J guesses might have been a church at some point. We return to the action with Frodo, Sam and Rosie, greeting each other with a little two step jump that I want to do with all my friends. Frodo sends them off to the Ivy Bush, because there seems to be some kind of trade mark problem with the Green Dragon. Gandalf enters bombastically, and Frodo and Sam leave as soon as they know their task, because they know that the show is only three hours long, including an interval. 

The singing begins! Walking fast, singing and playing as they go - The Road does indeed Go On,  the centre stage rotates as they dance-walk around it. Merry and Pippin assail them in a projected cornfield, because they’re his cousins and they’re not letting him do anything dangerous alone. Frodo is very put upon. Merry plays the cello, hanging round his neck, Pippin has a fiddle, and Sam a guitar. Also, Pippin is a girl, not just played by one. Good for you, Pippin Galadriel Moonchild. She’s also terrified of trees (Merry knows a less Tree-ish route and the Old Forest is resoundingly ignored.) 

(Photo Pamela Raith)

And then! Elves! Gildor and Earendil sung with a Y! All the elves are wearing lovely blue tabards. Dark is the road ahead for Frodo, and danger follows their path. That’s nice and cheery. 

(Speaking of costume, Gandalf and Saruman have very nice robes. Saruman is played by the bald one R assures me will be playing Gollum. They have a fun little stand off across the rotating stage, and Saruman isn’t hiding any of his schemes - army included. Uh oh.)

In the Prancing Pony, K says she’s going to play “spot the Strider” but Strider is in fact very very bad at being inconspicuous, as the only one wearing a hoody. 

Strider makes himself known, and so does Pippin, and Frodo’s brilliant distraction plan is to sing a song. He’s not at all prepared for this and walks like a puppet, but the Brandybuck and Took contingent are raring to go with the Cat and the Moon, and soon Frodo is having a lovely time dancing on tables and all. Let’s pretend that Frodo’s smile will never fade.

The Ring goes on. Mari Lwyd black riders appear. Frodo looks like he’s underwater and it’s very funny. Stabbing ensues (no time for Weathertop today). Run! Run for Rivendell! (Costuming side note: Strider has a banging undercut and goatee situation going on). Arwen enters playing a harp, singing a Song of Hope in a bunch of elvish with no subtitles. Tolkien would approve. “The weary traveller returning… home.” It’s Strider, and we learn that this is the first time he’s returned since disappearing to be a ranger. He’s grown a lot, Arwen says. Strider mumbles something about not wanting any bigger destiny than her. Then Frodo wakes up and it turns out they’ve been having this lovely romantic discussion is his hospital wing. Ah, good, says Frodo, we successfully completed our adventure! Merry is very excited at the amount of books and maps, also did you know that Arwen is a half-elf, technically, and did you see the way she looked at Aragorn, and did you know that she’s thousands of years older than him? 

(Photo Pamela Raith)

The council is called, Saruman the bald is also playing Elrond the bald, and is generally an old wise man. All of the elves are obsessed with hand gestures, and their hands are never below their waists. Everyone has so many problems, but Boromir (with another very cool undercut) wastes no time telling everyone Gondor has it worst. The steward is asleep, you say? And you had a dream and followed it here? But the sword that was broken is as lost as the One Ring. (Boromir has great dramatic timing.) Frodo will take the Ring to Mordor, though he don’t know the way. Gimli will go with him, and so will Legolas and Gandalf and Strider. (The Elf and Dwarf are Iranian and Black, and it really stands out amongst the otherwise white Men - I like it a lot). Strider asks Boromir nicely and Boromir says fine, he’ll come too. The fellowship of the ring! A rousing ensemble number with Earendil with a Y! Boromir is playing the trombone and singing at the same time and it’s the best!

Saruman learns of the Fellowship from his useless gas-mask orc minions. He deals with it himself - with menacing flute music. He flutes up a storm on Caradhras, and the Fellowship must go through Moria. Gimli reverently takes a guitar, and sings them a song of his people, as the fellowship and the audience have a chance for a rest. Then drums start in the deep, a balrog is come, and Gandalf is gone. They must continue - to Lothlorien. That horn player is a different elf now, you can tell because their tabard is gold this time!

They arrive blindfolded as Legolas waxes lyrical about the elves of the golden wood, and it turns out he’s not in love with Galadriel he’s just really patriotic. Galadriel tells Frodo they will both share a great loss, and also sings a power ballad. 

(Photo Pamela Raith)

Everything falls apart after Lorien, as we all know. Boromir dances with the hobbits before the orcs get him - Strider appears seconds too late, and Boromir tells him he’s failed, the Fellowship and his people. Strider shows him his broken sword (he’ll show you his if you show him yours) and finally claims his birthright. Boromir begs him to save “our people” and Aragorn really can’t deal with that, especially when Boromir dies in his arms. Aragorn is the best actor in all of this and it’s mainly in degrees of how much he cannot deal with this. The three hunters reunite, honour Boromir, and finally pick themselves up for the road ahead - Aragorn can see the hobbits’ footprints…

In the interval we theorise on how they’re going to fit two whole books into a second act shorter than the first one. Are they just going to cut the entirety of Rohan? That’s the bit of the book I can never understand. The ice cream is very nice.

As the lights go up, Sam races after Frodo and berates his idiot upper-class master who thought he could do anything without him. They set out on their long journey, and from the other side of the stage, Pippin and Merry come charging in. They’ve already escaped from the orcs, as we really don’t have time for that. Pippin is confronted with her fear of trees. Entish is a very musical language which was beautiful to experience, and I think a far better rendition of trees talking than any realism could give. Musicians stood around the auditorium and plucked and strummed their discussion (Gimli was behind us drumming the plumbing). 

(Photo Pamela Raith)

Saruman, meanwhile, directs a cool break dance number from the orcs. They’re going to crush Minas Tirith, and then Sauron will surely think Saruman is an ally, a massive victory for the Light.

The rest of the cliffhangers from act one get resolved in the next ten minutes. The three hunters can tell from the footprints that the hobbits are safe, so they race the breakdancing orcs to Minas Tirith. (No Rohan, I whisper to K). Aragorn demands an entrance to see the Steward (played by Bilbo, this company has one old wise man and one old father figure). The Steward is under Saruman’s spell! They call him Denethor but he’s serving Theoden’s role, with considerably less drama as it only takes Aragorn revealing himself as King to wake him up from the curse. 

They agree to fight together to defeat Saruman! It’s another ensemble song and dance! Gandalf the White returns, and doesn’t come alone! The trees are marching! And Boromir’s actor is playing the trombone behind Denethor as he fights to defend their people, and that made me very emotional. 

It’s Gollum time. Nearly naked bald man with full body dirt makeup scrambles around theatre and balcony, more news at 7. R seems unable to comprehend a theatre company having two bald men in it. This actor was so physical, my director brain was terrified of the risk assessments that must have been required for him to run along the balcony barrier. 

Victory at the Pelennor Fields! TheoDenethor is slain, but the free peoples have won. They ride to Isengard. Saruman enters, and in a very dramatic and tense moment, I thought he greeted them with “Sup”. (Sadly it was actually “So”). Gandalf is sure that this will not be the end of Saruman’s mischief…  

Frodo and Sam (and Gollum) are carrying on, but it’s hard going. They reminisce on the stories they used to listen to, and Sam gets out his guitar as they wonder what kind of story they’re in. Sam sings to Frodo, a reprise of Now and for Always from Mr. Bilbo, and his master tiredly joins in. He hasn’t smiled for days. “Tell us a story, of Frodo and the Ring”. Sam falls asleep, and it’s Frodo turn to sing about him - “no finer friend, now and for always”. Frodo doesn’t quite manage to finish the chorus before he falls asleep beside his Sam - but Gollum takes over in a horrifying corruption of their duet. It took me a while to realise it, but this Gollum’s voice reminds me of Voldemort from A Very Potter Musical - not at all a bad thing, but a specific niche of “very creepy and also pathetic”. 

(Photo Pamela Raith)

Aragorn is crowned, and receives the reforged sword. Together, the representatives of the free peoples plan to storm the Black Gates, in a hopeless battle - for Frodo. Smeagol/Gollum finally decides to lead them to Shelob, and Frodo trusts him. “Well,” Sam says, “let’s walk into Mordor.” Cackles from very small pockets of the audience.

Shelob is a REALLY COOL PUPPET. Sam manages to stab her with the LED Sting as he is seconds away from his doom. Galadriel empowers them with ballads from afar, but Frodo can barely walk. Sam takes the ring to try and relieve his burden, and Frodo doesn’t even notice. Gollum returns and swears he knew nothing about the giant spider, what giant spider? She wasn’t there last week! 

Aragorn, in the B-plot of the musical (we realised afterwards that in the books, destroying the Ring and saving the world is the B-plot), gives a rousing speech to get everyone gearing up for a battle they’re all going to lose. Arwen (I think, or is it Galadriel, I’m writing this the day after and I’ve slightly lost the plot) calls to Aragorn and starts off the ensemble number "out of grief, joy".

Meanwhile, tension is rising in the Frodo-Sam-Gollum-Smeagol polycule. Everything will change, when they destroy the ring. “The elves, Sam, they’ll disappear - all of the magic will be gone out of the world. But if I take the ring!” No one can resist the ring. Gollum and Frodo speak and move as one as they condemn Sam as a traitor and a thief. At some point in all of this Frodo gets the Ring back, Sam runs away, Gollum attacks Frodo, Sam protects him, and Frodo wakes up enough to cast Gollum out instead. I’m very tired and can’t remember when this all happens, but it was all very emotional. 

The free peoples fight, and they all dance and stand so differently you can tell which peoples they all are even without the height differences. Legolas shoots from on high, Gimli is rooted to the ground with wheeling axes, Aragorn just stabs so many orcs. Merry has his cello and uses the bow to attack, and Pippin has her accordion. We love Pippin. She’s here for moral support.

(Photo Pamela Raith)

Sam and Frodo reach the top of Mount Doom and wrench open the backdrop doors. Sam can’t take another step and collapses behind Frodo as he tries once more to take it for himself - before Gollum appears. Gollum’s fall was beautiful and slow - he’s caught by black clad actors on a darkened stage and they gently let him down into the fire. And then it’s done. 

The ensemble sings as Gandalf the White comes to save the two hobbits, and they reunite with their friends as Aragorn bows to the Shirefolk (and holds Frodo’s head so close that he re-awakened my inner Frodo/Aragorn shipper). Gandalf inexplicably says he’s off to have a chat with Tom Bombadil, who we had been ignoring, but that he’ll see Frodo again.

The hobbits return to the Shire, and Lobelia tells us Saruman has been there. We all have to work together to restore the Shire, including the audience - up you get, get outside and get LARPing again. We help the hobbits restore the battered garden to its former glory, and Rosie and Sam are married! Frodo never can return to the cheer he had at the beginning of this adventure. The actor had literally added eye bag makeup, I winced in sympathy when I saw him. Gandalf and the many elves of Middle Earth reach the Shire. They are going into the West. Frodo gives Sam the book in which to write their story. The hobbits do a very sad little dance jump greeting and Frodo hugs Sam tight, before he goes on his way towards the sails of the Grey Havens. 

(Photo Watermill Theatre)

Rapturous applause! Everybody’s back on stage for a rousing final Cat and the Moon! Don’t worry about Frodo’s depression, we’ve got to sing a musical number for us all to go home to! My emotions are a wreck, and now we must obviously discuss all of the musical’s shortcomings and its adaptational choices and the costumes, when I really want to stand in a field and yell. After a few hours on the train of actually very good discussions, I cycle home and yell on my way through the park. 

5 stars.

[frodothefair]

Drunk Mûmakil Cream: The Most Dreamy Cream in All of Middle Earth

by Marigold (Gamgee) Baggins

(probably edited for spelling and grammar by Frodo Baggins)

(image from sephora.com) (the premise)

Hello, everyone!

Mr. Frodo, Sam, and my sisters all thought that it would be a good idea for me to write an account of my favorite gift that I got for my wedding, so here we are!

We got so many wonderful things that it was difficult to pick just one, but in the end, I settled on the "Drunk Mûmakil" cream from Queen Arwen. Apparently, trade with Harad has resumed, and so the creams made with exotic oils from the South can be found in Gondor once again! Lady Arwen wrote a very kind letter saying that the cream was meant to preserve my youth, and that is no bad thing, I think, even if Mr. Frodo always tells me that he will love me even when I am old and wrinkled.

I don't know who came up with such a funny name, "Drunk Mûmakil," but that's the first wonderful thing about it! Mr. Frodo and Sam say that they saw a Mûmakil, or an Oliphaunt as we call it in the Shire, and they think that an Oliphaunt or a Mûmakil is a fearsome thing to behold at the best of times. I also reckon that a drunk mûmakil would wreak perfect havoc wherever it went, so I was a little worried at first. I certainly hoped that it was only a name meant to attract the eye, and no indication of the substance of the thing!

I was also a wee bit worried about trying it at first because it came from so far away, and from such noble givers, and I am not yet used to fine things at all. But in the end, I was not disappointed.

The lavender box is such a lovely color, but beneath the lid, there is a special pump, and all you have to do is press it, and it will dispense just as much as you need. No waste at all with this little box, and this alone would earn it top marks in my book. On top of that, though, the cream itself is the most wonderful, creamy, dreamy concoction! My skin immediately felt like the ground, thirsty and soaking up water from a summer rainstorm!

I must admit, I am always running here and there, taking care of my husband and other folks, and it's always either the sun or the cold or the steam that's putting my skin through the paces. I make my own creams with oil, tallow, and soothing herbs, but nothing I've ever made can hold a candle to this stuff.

Lady Arwen's letter said that there is a serum and an eye cream, too, that Drunk Mûmakil makes, and if I have a mind, there is a place I can write and they can be shipped to me. I have to own, I'd dearly love to have it, but I hardly wish to waste Mr. Frodo's money!

[a-feller]

When reading a book, watching a show or a movie, or even experiencing real life, I often find, when a major character or important person dies, I mourn, not so much the person but more their loved ones, the great bond lost and the incredible damage done to them. Over time, almost subconciously I have grown to value a great bond of love, lust, friendship, romance, great platonic love, or that weird sixth thing two inseperable stray cats have, almost as much as human knowledge, something I greatly revere. This is most prominent in fantasy worlds, where for certain there is some haven beyond the barrier of death, where a person and their knowledge can go to live in harmony after whatever happened to them. Yet leaving their loved ones behind for years to come, perhaps forever. Maybe it is more amplified in the real world, or universes like the star wars one and my belief of real life, where there is no life after death. Just nothing. All bonds severed by death's scythe in one fell swoop.

I will list an example for every book/tv show/movie I can. Spoilers ahead for: The Bad Batch, The Scythe series by Neal Shusterman, Harry Potter, Trials Of Apollo, The Six of Crows duology, The Lord of The Rings

The death of Tech, a clone from the bad batch. His close, paternal bond with Omega, shattered as he sacrificed himself before her eyes, the unrequited mutual love with the pirate lady whom he promised he would come back safely and of course the rest of the bad batch, now a gaping hole within their group.

The death of Tiger, the Best friend of Rowan in the scythe series, slain by people he was played by and his body contorted into a new one for Rowan's greatest enemy. Their friendship gone and spited by the monstosity created from his headless corpse.

The death of Sirius Black and the huge damage it did to Harry and Remus Lupin. Harry losing his first ever loving paternal figure he can remember and Lupin losing a dear best friend (or more considering what half of you post about)

The death of Jason Grace. Killed slowing down an unkillable enemy to save his friends and close-ex-lover Piper McLean, leaving behind at least a dozen dear friends who fought, battle after battle together, almost dying time and time again, only for him to fall far away, after it was meant to be over. And specifically Nico Di Angelo who as anyone who read the book will know had a priceless, unique friendship with him that simply could not be created with another.

The death of Matthias Hevlar, just beggining to fit in with the people around them and his romantic relationship just springing up with Nina, those bonds once again shattered, and the last thing he asked for was a kiss (hold up just gonna go cry for a second).

Edit: The edit is here for the smoothness of the post. I cannot believe I forgot. The very ones who inspired me to make this post in the first place. David and Genya from the Grishaverse and the King Of Scars duology. Another romantic one I'm aware however they had just had a wonderful ceremony, a proper marriage at last. And then David left to go do something and the city was attacked by bomber planes. He wasn't seen throughout the following fight until Genya noticed his absence at the end. They later pulled his body out of the rubble. Some ink Genya was fussing over still there. Queue the funeral, Genya, in private afterwards reads from his notebooks containing all the little things he picked up on that make her happy (hair, skin etc). I am genuinely tearing up just thinking about it. David was also a leader and a role model to the other Grisha, especially other fabrikators. Close friends with Nikolai and Zoya. All of these bonds gone.

The leaving of Frodo Baggins. This one is a little different as he isn't dead but to all of his friends but Gandalf and Bilbo, he is. Never able to be seen or contacted again, no way to hear or feel them either. Sam, who carried him up a mountain. Refused to leave his side ever. Pippin, Merry, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, All his shire friends, All the people they met along the way. Those bonds were shattered as if he was dead.

This last one is very different. It takes place in the real world. This death is obviously a thousand times more important then any of the others. A real human with thoughts, feelings and of course friends. This person is Technoblade. Funny, kind, skillful, he was friends with pretty much everyone he played with, best friends with those like Philza and of course the people around him in real life. The innumerable amount of people he either just made laugh, or helped get through some really dark times. Like me. 10 million people. Bonds reasonably one way but still there. 10 million people. Bonds snapped like rubber bands. All his friends. Online and off. Those he helped, those he inspired. All grieving with that bond suddenly a gaping hole, all lost. o7 Techno. Fly high.

Edit: I cannot believe I forgot. The very ones who inspired me to make this post in the first place,

[forelevenses]

before you go

rating: T fandom: the lord of the rings characters: frodo baggins, sam gamgee, bilbo baggins, elanor gardener pairings: frodo baggins/sam gamgee summary: before Bilbo is set to depart the Havens, Frodo and Sam have someone they want him to meet

with lovely art done by @verchielmarch! 💕 read here or on ao3! When Master Elrond informed Bilbo of Frodo’s decision to decline the offer to the Blessed Land, he was rather at a loss for words (to the surprise of the entire House).

The letter arrived towards the tail-end of April, and all the while, he spent his afternoons on his favorite thinking bench under one of the many blooming bowers in Rivendell and thought of many different things: his past adventures, his verses, his upcoming journey, but most importantly of all, he thought of Frodo.

At first, he found the situation quite hilarious and wished he could hug his dear nephew. After all, it was quite in Baggins-fashion to be accorded with a special honor by the elves to only say ‘No, I am quite all right, thank you’ as if one was rejecting an extra helping of tea cakes during elevenses. He taught the boy very well, in his humble opinion.

However, as the months turned warmer, Bilbo’s humor began to turn into concern. Although he was not at the Cracks of Doom when it happened, Bilbo felt a sort of clarity when It was destroyed, even all the way in his small, cozy room. It was as if he was finally unburdened from the last of a 60-year-old weight, and he could really feel again. So, he could only imagine how Frodo, who walked into the very heart of the Enemy’s realm with the accursed thing, felt about the whole ordeal.

He may have shut his eyes more times than he would have liked then, but Bilbo remembered when Frodo returned to Rivendell after it was all said and done. His nephew was there, yes, and yet, he wasn’t. He wasn’t the same rosy-cheeked lad he met all those years ago in Brandy Hall, or the one who would hang on to every word of Bilbo’s tales with wonder in his clear eyes. Of course, Frodo talked and smiled well enough before he headed off on the last leg home, but none of it ever reached his shadowed eyes. It was as if Frodo was hollowed from the inside out, a weary and fragile shell of who he once was years ago.

The Blessed Land would have given them both long-overdue relief from their times with their shared burden, so why Frodo turned down the offer was too great a riddle, even for Bilbo. Had he turned for the worse upon arriving home? He may have held the ring for a shorter amount of time between the two, but It weighed on him far worse than Bilbo experienced. Not to mention his wounds- knife, sting, and tooth all crushing down on him with an immense pressure that Bilbo wished he could help alleviate. Did he think himself unworthy?

His boy more than earned his rest, so just why did he turn it down?

The first clue to his answer arrived just a week before he was set to depart for the Grey Havens: a Shire postmarked letter, written in the firm but slightly unsteady hand Bilbo recognized anywhere. Bilbo thanked the heavens Frodo could, at the very least, be well enough to have written a letter and practically tore into the envelope. It was short, the usual and respectful ‘How do you do? I’m doing well, thank you’ found in any hobbit correspondence, however, the letter’s closing caught Bilbo’s curiosity:

‘The three of us eagerly await the day we shall meet you at the Woody End.’

While he was more than happy to hear Frodo would be seeing him off, why only three? It was a shame to think the four lads had a falling out of sorts upon returning, however it seemed unlikely. There was talk among the newly-arrived elves of a gardener breathing life back into the halfling’s lands feared to be too unsalvageable, and Bilbo did not need to spare a guess on who the mystery gardener was. He hoped he would’ve seen young Samwise one last time, but he was a very important hobbit these days if the rumors were to be believed, and perhaps had bigger things to attend to than to see old Mad Baggins sail off into the blue.

At the very least, he would get to see his young cousins one last time and for Bilbo, it was a comforting thought.

***

The final clue arrived on the morning of September 22nd.

Their passage into the Shire was uneventful and unnoticed by the Shire-folk, even by the most keen-eyed Bounder. Their small company took the paths least traveled, through the rolling green hills and even through a forgotten sunflower field. The elves seemed to have enjoyed the field particularly, even Lord Elrond seemed a bit misty-eyed (sunflowers were not his personal favorite, although Bilbo can appreciate how their beauty can bring anyone to tears).

As they passed into the Woody End, one of the elves in their company ordered the scouts to be on the lookout for the Ringbearer’s carriage. Seemed a tad excessive for a small trip, even for Bilbo, but Frodo is a Baggins after all. He thought nothing more of it and quietly slipped into a peaceful nap.

Until he was rudely awoken by one of the escorts.

Perhaps some time passed, judging by the light but the elf laughed, “You have company little Master.” They had stopped at the edge of a small clearing (the same one Frodo and he would use to camp out under the stars during their famous days-long tramps), and elves around him busied themselves with the horses. Two lone horses were in the clearing before a small carriage and he recognized them as Lord Elrond’s and Lady Galadriel’s. Bilbo couldn’t help his quiet huff. He may be old, but certainly not too old to not be the first to greet his nephew!

Before he could show those two stuffy elves a piece of his mind, the horses were making their way back to the company. They were in good spirits to Bilbo’s mind, whispering to each other in the ancient tongue and smiling more than he had ever witnessed them to. Their horses slowed to a stop before his pony, regarding him fondly with their keen eyes. At last, Lord Elrond raised a hand before he could squeeze a word in.

“No need to rush, we shall set camp here for the evening,” he said, and motioned his horse forward. Lady Galadriel was silent, but her bright eyes twinkled in mirth before her own horse followed after Elrond’s.

Bilbo looked out toward the clearing, and though his eyes have seen better days, he recognized the pacing figure of his nephew anywhere.

“Let’s see what’s gotten into the lad’s head,” Bilbo said and he urged his pony forward. As he got closer, he began to make out the voices from the carriage: Frodo’s, and to his surprise, Sam’s. What joy to see young Samwise one more time, after all the great deeds he accomplished since their last meeting! Bilbo’s thoughts returned to the letter and he chuckled. Maybe Frodo was trying to give him the slip, and all four of them have arrived to see him off. Blast it all, he should’ve known all along!

“...he’ll understand, me dear.”

“...cuff my ears, just like old times!”

Just why would he need to cuff his ears? Honestly, the things the lad says sometimes! But, he’d know soon enough. Before Bilbo could get to it, the soft snort of his pony announced his arrival and a hush fell before Frodo turned around from his spot behind the carriage.

Bilbo had some sort of greeting ready at the tip of his tongue, but he felt it slip from his mind. He blinked, stunned as he took in his nephew. It had been nearly a year since he last saw him, a ghost of what his nephew once was. There were days when Bilbo, even Master Elrond, wondered if the Blessed Realm would be enough to heal Frodo.

The Frodo standing before him now was not fully healed, but Bilbo would not have known any better.

Frodo shifted in place, his hands fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves like he did so long ago whenever Bilbo would scold him as a tween. “Hullo Uncle,” Frodo said, color staining his properly filled-out cheeks (which Bilbo believed he would never see again).

Bilbo found the words he meant to say, but as he gathered his wits enough to answer, a soft gurgle got the first say.

He realized he had forgotten all about Sam in his astonishment.

Bilbo looked behind Frodo, and Sam sat at the edge of the carriage. He looked weary, but was ever the fine hobbit he always was. Sam smiled and mouthed a ‘Hullo’ before turning his attention back to the squirming bundle of blankets in his arms.

He looked at the bundle, then to Sam, then to Frodo, and then back to the bundle.

“Oh, my dear boy,” Bilbo said softly, the pieces falling together perfectly in his mind.

“I suppose we ought to explain ourselves,” Frodo said, still looking rather expectantly as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I dare say you do,” Bilbo said, dismounting his pony with ease. “But, I would much rather be introduced to this little one first.”

As quietly as he could as to not disturb the bundle, Bilbo approached Sam and settled by the spot next to him. The bundle was well-covered, although he couldn’t help but notice the little golden curl sprouting out from the blankets. Sam must have thought him silly trying to get a look and laughed softly. “Would you like to hold her, Mr. Bilbo?”

Bilbo smiled. “Her?”

“Aye,” Sam replied, “Here, mind her head.” Bilbo held open his arms and with Sam’s gentle guidance, he held the bundle. When was the last time he held a babe? Bilbo could not recall, but were they always this small? And quite hefty this little lass was! She began to squirm a bit, no doubt from not recognizing this stranger’s arms and Bilbo began to softly rock his arms.

“There, there,” he hushed. “Now, let’s get a look at you.”

He uncovered the blanket near her face, and he stilled. The little lass was fast asleep, her face flushed from the warmth of her blankets but rather at peace with the new set of arms she found herself in. Bilbo was silent, studying every single movement and trying to commit it to his memory. If his mind wandered a bit more, he would have thought he was back in Brandy Hall so many years ago, when a proud Primula plopped a sleeping Frodo into his arms for the first time.

“Uncle, we’d like to introduce you to Elanor Baggins-Gamgee,” Frodo said, taking the empty spot next to Bilbo.

Bilbo sniffed, using his hand to wipe his eye. “The sun-star?”

“Half of all the maid-children in the Shire are named for flowers, but we wanted something different for her,” Frodo said, leaning in closer to Bilbo. “She’s beautiful and she’ll grow to be even more beautiful still.”

“Well, of course she will!” Bilbo laughed. “She’s a Baggins! Why, look at that hair! You know, your Aunt Dora’s hair was so thick that not even a comb could get through!”

“Goodness!” Sam said.

“I remember a time when your father tried to plait ribbons in her hair, Frodo! You should have seen the look on his face when the handle on the brush snapped like a twig! Oh, she was so cross with him, it was her favorite!” Bilbo laughed. “But the color! That is, of course, Samwise’s doing.”

“Nay, my own isn’t so bright, nor any of my relations if I can recall,” Sam said. “A lot of the babes born this past year are golden-haired, even if no one in the family is so!”

“Is that so?” Bilbo asked, brushing a stray curl back Elanor’s ear. “Well, if you will not take credit for the hair, then don’t bother denying the nose! My eyes may not be as sharp as they were when I was a spry tweener, but that’s a Gamgee nose if I ever saw one!”

Sam laughed, his freckled cheeks turning a bright red, “You’ve done and settled the score, Mr. Bilbo! All this time we haven’t been able to tell where she got it from but you say it as if it were plain as day!”

“You don’t think it reminds you of cousin Peony’s a bit, Bilbo?” Frodo asked, tucking the blanket back under Elanor’s uncovered feet.

“Your cousin Peony’s nose was a bit sharper, too sharp if I’m being truthful,” Bilbo said, bringing his finger up to Elanor’s nose to lightly tap the tip, “And with the freckles on top, little Elanor’s definitely a Gamgee, through and through!”

“If me old Gaffer were here, he’d say she turned out way too fine to be a Gamgee, but I know he’s being silly,” Sam chuckled.

“Bah, nonsense! I’ve always said Belle and he made such a beautiful family, but you know him better than I: too humble to accept any compliment! It’s like pulling teeth with him sometimes!”

That set them laughing, full and whole-heartedly until a soft coo mingled in. They stilled, Bilbo freezing in place as if he heard the rumbling snort of an awakening dragon all over again. Frodo and Sam shared a gentle smile between them.

“I believe someone has something to say about all our ruckus,” Frodo said. Bilbo looked down and was caught in the gaze of two, clear blue eyes. Elanor stared at him, her round face calm as if she was still deciding whether Bilbo was a new friend or not. Her small eyebrows were set in the same fashion of Frodo whenever he was in deep debate over which book he would spend the afternoon with, or whenever Sam would concentrate on his rose pruning out in the gardens. Bilbo could not stop the overwhelming joy bubbling within him.

“Hullo there,” Bilbo whispered, offering his finger to Elanor. She considered it for a long while when at long last, her clear eyes shone bright and she took his finger between her strong grip. She laughed happily, showing off the slight gap between her growing front teeth. Bilbo laughed, the tears welling in his eyes flowing freely down his wrinkled cheeks.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Elanorellë,” Bilbo said.

***

By nightfall, the company settled quite comfortably under the stars. The meal was modest, but quite enjoyable after days of travel and before long, the elves were resting peacefully under the soft starlight.

However, the night was still young at least according to hobbit standards.

A ways away from the elves, the hobbits huddled around a cheery fire, their bellies full from the bit of stew Sam threw together and the ale Frodo managed to bring along for the trip. Although the elves in Rivendell tried their best to replicate hobbit fare and Bilbo appreciated the efforts, nothing could quite compare to a proper hobbit meal in the Shire itself.

They talked of many things – Lotho and Sharkey, the rebuilding efforts, this past season’s remarkable harvest, and all the doings of any hobbit in and around Hobbiton Frodo and Sam could think of. No wonder Frodo’s letters were so to-the-point – he would have been sending a book each time otherwise! And even with all their catching up and reminiscing, Elanor stayed right in Bilbo’s arms, making quite the fuss if her new cousin made any effort to settle her down in her basket.

When each of their corners were properly filled and every story that could be told was recounted, the fire was banked and the hobbits clamored into the carriage and settled into their bedrolls, ready for what the next leg of the journey held in store for them.

All except for Bilbo.

Maybe it was a pesky pebble under his bedroll, or the slight chill in the air that kept him turning about, but Bilbo was at his wit’s end. How long he strayed between waking and sleeping, he could not tell but it was no use making so much fuss when everyone else was fast asleep. As quiet as he could, Bilbo reached for his cloak and slipped out from under his roll.

Sam was turned to his side, his soft snores lulling Elanor into a deep sleep. It was a comforting sight to Bilbo at first, until he caught a glimpse of the empty roll next to Sam. Frodo was nowhere in sight, and the flap to the carriage cover was left undone. Worry started to grip him tight and ever so gently as not to wake the other two, Bilbo slipped out of the carriage and onto the clearing.

The stars glimmered against the dark sky but they paled compared to the evening-star, shining steady but brilliantly compared to all others. Bilbo felt his breath catch, mesmerized at its gentle beauty and after a long while of contemplating its light, he let his eyes fall back down to the earth. Right below the star, Frodo sat alone by the empty fire pit.

“It hasn't fully healed, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Frodo sighed. “There are days where I feel somewhat at peace, but there are others where it feels as if the sickness has me completely in its hold. Sam helps the best he can in those times, Rosie as well, but I'm afraid they can only do so much.”

Biblo tried to picture it: Frodo, in the throes his sickness while Sam and the Cotton lass helplessly tried to do anything to ease him. No, he shouldn’t use ‘helpless’. He was confident they both did everything within their hobbit-sense to help Frodo, that much was clear. But even so, a nagging whisper in the corner of his mind would not relent.

“Do you believe this to be the best choice, Frodo?” Bilbo asked, unsure of the question himself. Frodo was silent, his brow creased as he considered his words.

“It was always a chance to be healed,” Frodo said, returning Bilbo's firm grip, “Never a guarantee. But even so, there was a time when I was prepared to take the offer. I couldn’t bear the thought of burdening Sam, even after everything we have endured, but then one day, I found him crying in the potting shed all by himself. I brought him back inside and after a long talk, I found that it was not the first time Sam had hid away in such a manner. The thought of him suffering alone pained me and when I asked why, wouldn’t you believe it- he didn’t want to be a burden to me! All that time, we had suffered in silence without the other knowing, when we could have suffered together! And I was about to leave these lands so we could continue suffering alone?” Frodo scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Bilbo, I understand the risk in my decision, and how it worries you so. However, this is a risk I am prepared to make. For myself, for Sam and for Elanor.”

“I have never doubted your decisions, my lad, nor do I plan to start,” Bilbo said, bringing up one of his wrinkled hands to Frodo’s pale cheek, “I know you’re doing what you think is best, like how you’ve always done. My only wish is that you find your rest at last. You, out of anyone in this world, have earned as such.” Frodo smiled and wrapped his slender arms around Bilbo.

“It will not be an easy road, but Uncle, I truly believe I will find my rest here in the Shire. There’s so much to be and to do, and being able to try and experience it all with Sam and Elanor by my side is worth more to me than any Elvish healing can bring,” Frodo said.

Bilbo was silent, the dust in the wind clouding his vision of course, and without any further word, he returned Frodo’s embrace. All was quiet among the wood, but perhaps the sharpest of elf ears in Elrond’s company caught the faintest of sniffling in the breeze.

***

“We shall be arriving within the hour, Little Master.”

Bilbo yawned and faced the kindly Elf at the doorway. After the ship casted off from the Grey Havens, he found it rather difficult to keep track of their days out on the Sea. What felt like weeks to him were just mere days to the Elves and decided it was best to leave it be.

“I shall rather believe it when I set foot on the docks,” Bilbo chuckled. The Elf laughed brightly and dismissed himself, leaving Bilbo alone in his small room. He stretched and stood from his seat by the desk, still marveled at the ease his old bones moved. Master Elrond credited their proximity to the Blessed Land, and wondered what other changes awaited him once they docked.

It was quite the change, he supposed. Becoming the first mortal, much less hobbit, to even breathe the sweet air of the Blessed Land was quite the ordeal. While the promise of a new adventure awaited him, Bilbo could not help but wonder how long would it be until he could truly call the Land his home?

His eyes (ah, no more need to squint) fell to his bags by the foot of his bed, and lingered on Frodo’s gift. It was large, wrapped in a soft cloth and was rather light. Bilbo recalled the cries of the gulls as they stood on the docks, sharing one last hug with his dear nephew. When they pulled apart, Sam handed Frodo the gift, wiping his tears with newly free hand. Elanor cooed curiously as she looked on, not quite understanding what was before her (though he knew with time, her fathers would explain).

“When you reach the other side of the Sea,” Frodo sniffed, handing the gift to Bilbo, “We hope this small piece will help you remember The Shire.”

He supposed he could wait until they reached Elrond’s estate on the Isle, but the anticipation was too much for an old hobbit. A small peak wouldn’t hurt. With the utmost care, Bilbo picked up the gift and placed it onto his bed. The thread keeping the cloth together was simple and gave him no trouble undoing it. Slowly, he uncovered the folds and felt the breath leave him.

A painting laid before him, and if Elf magic were real, it might as well have been a passage back to The Shire. Bag End was captured in all the quaint beauty he remembered it but, his eyes were focused on the stoop. Frodo and Sam stood side-by-side, smiling softly with Elanor held between the both of them.

They will age- both lads growing more lines and gray hairs as the years went by while Elanor would only grow more in beauty. Perhaps more bairns would be added to their growing brood (imagine, Frodo with a brood of his own!), but for now, they remained frozen the way he left them at the Grey Havens.

Bilbo smiled, feeling tears pool in his eyes, “I doubt I’ll forget The Shire anytime soon, my dear boy.”

[philtstone]

Writer asks! 3, 6, 10, 16!

im soooo late to replying to this but. thank you beloved and here we go

#3 What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

this is such a hard and mean question but here are some top contenders:

"easy, easy (my man and me)" - claire and jamie build a treehouse in the backyard. it came to me so effortlessly and i am still proud of the prose. also i sent it to my beloved high school english teacher and he loved it which makes it special! i don't think he realized it was fanfic lol

"hopeful." - sam and bucky accidentally adopt a bunch of super kids in the sort-of apocalypse. not prosaically perfect necessarily but my first ever completed chapter fic! i put a lot of myself into this one and it got me through a pretty tough year emotionally, and on top of that im actually proud of it!

"my daddy was a prominent frogman" - frodo baggins and his friends try to save their hippie summer camp from the evil industrialists. listen. this au is evergreen. 5 years later i have been inspired to write for it again, because it was just that good.

#6 Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Yes! of course!!! a staple of the genre! i say this and immediately forget every fic i've ever read!

I think the true brain changing fics are ones that i reread once a year or every few years. alternatively, i'll read one fic 10 times in a month. i read "let our joys so multiply" by @fallofrainblog 5 times in a week once so that gets a shoutout. every so often i have to go back and read irnan's star wars fics for personal reasons. also, the legendary anne fic catching moonlight which i go back to about once every 2 years. hilarious how 2 of these are ancient ffnet gems but there u go

its weird bc a lot of fics i'll forget about for years and then suddenly be like "oh yeah that one changed my brain irreversibly. i wonder if it holds up" and then i go find it again and am generally confirmed that it does, indeed, hold up.

#10 Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Hmmm! many of them, frankly. there are some fics i write as throw aways with no expectation they will get traction, like "shut your mouth, hold your breath" or the very silly ponniyin selvan road trip au. there are others which I know are niche but still wish they had more traction so i had more external drive to finish them, because in theory i love the concept but just don't have the internal juice to see it through to the end. the force sensitive claire au is one of those i think. there are still others which are for huge fandoms and i am left wondering why they feel totally lost to the void. but that's all part of the deal, i guess, and quite often more related to my own ignorance of what is currently trendy

#16 At what point in the process do you come up with titles?

it really depends on the fic but very very rarely is the title conceived before the story. maybe for original fiction -- actually exclusively for original fiction do i do that. for fanfics i write the fic and then in the seconds before i post on ao3 i hail mary a title out of whatever divine inspiration is in that moment directly beamed into my brain from the heavens. usually in the form of song lyrics.

[camille-lachenille]

Day 13 of All of Arda is Autistic:

Prompt: wandering thoughts

Rating: Gen

Featuring Rorimac Brandybuck and Sigismond Took, two of Bilbo’s cousins that I picked in the family trees. They are all close in age and I headcanon they are a bit the predecessors of Frodo, Merry and Pippin.

“The storm last night wasn’t half as bad as I expected,” someone around the table said. “Though the road to Tuckborough is flooded…”

Bilbo tuned the conversation around him to a distant droning, his mind caught on a word. The road goes ever on and on… It would make a very good song… what comes next? The road goes ever on and on, and I must away… No! It didn’t work! Maybe… over hill and under tree. Mmm, better but still not that. He’d had to…

“What do you think Bilbo?” The Hobbit snapped out of his thoughts and gave an apologetic smile to his cousin.

“Sorry Rorimac, I was distracted. Could you repeat you question, please?” Bilbo said, fidgeting with the content of his pocket. Rorimac obliged and Bilbo gave his opinion on the quality of Longbottom’s pipeweed from the year. It wasn’t as good as the harvest from the two previous years due to bad weather, but still far better than the foul leaf the Dwarves favoured.

Well, I was happy when they shared with me. The thought came unbidden, and Bilbo’s mind immediately followed the path of memories. I miss my Dwarves, lack of table manners, smelly socks and all. How are they doing? I hope cleaning the mess left by Smaug wasn’t too tedious. The stench was something to behold for sure! “Mmh? Oh, don’t worry Sigismond, I managed to retrieve everything that had been sold at the auction. Yes, even the silver spoons from Camellia Sackville-Baggin’s clutches. But I reckon I’ve met a dragon less greedy than her!“ there was a lull in the discussion at Bilbo’s mention of his adventure before returning to more proper subjects.

About dragons, I heard in Rivendell that Smaug was small compared to the dragons from past ages. I wonder if I can find something about them in the books Lord Elrond gave me. And now, Bilbo missed Rivendell’s extended library and its hundreds of tomes containing long forgotten lore. I really should learn Elvish more seriously though, if I want to read these books. The Hobbit’s musings were, once again, interrupted by Rorimac. “Could you pass me the potatoes, please. Thank you. But you seem a bit distracted today, cousin. Are you lost in your adventures?”

Bilbo made a vague sound of agreement, his mind returning to the bit of song that had hatched earlier. The road goes ever on and on, over rock and under tree… Yes, that was it! But maybe he could compose something more specific to his adventure with the Dwarves, too? That was an idea to keep in mind.

Again someone asked for his participation in the conversation and Bilbo indulged with good grace. He was a guest to his cousin, after all, and favouring his own thoughts over the current discussion was very rude. But he couldn’t prevent his mind from wandering away every other sentence, caught over a word and threading its own path from there.

After all the social niceties were said and done, Bilbo shrugged his coat on for a walk around Buckland to clear his mind. Rorimac gave him a knowing smile as he handed him an umbrella just in case. “You’re always wandering, Bilbo, even when your feet are still.”

Bilbo smiled back at his cousin. “What were you expecting from a wanderer like me, Rori? I am much more of a Took than I care to admit… but the road is now calling, and I’d like to have my walk before it rains!”

Bilbo closed the door behind him, breathed in deeply and followed the road to the edge of the Old Forest, humming under his breath. But instead of the familiar, gnarled trees, he was seeing the dark and twisted branches of Mirkwood. The Road goes ever on and on, Down from the door where it began. Yes, that was the perfect beginning for his song.

The various bits of songs come from ‘The Road goes ever on’, by Tolkien, and ‘The Last Goodbye’, from the Hobbit movies, and I played around with the verses as Bilbo composes on the spot. The right version is in the last paragraph.

Also, I found very fitting to write about Bilbo when the prompt was about wandering thoughts.

[dimdiamond]

Bagginshield fic list

Yeah, I decided to make one too because there are enough to cause me headaches and I'd like to have them somewhere organized. Please look at the tags before reading them!

Fix-it fics

Desperate magic by BeautifulFiction: Bilbo is left to tend Thorin as he hovers on the brink of death after the Battle of the Five Armies. Is love enough to save Erebor's king, or is this the last farewell?

Lay your troubles down by Avelera: An extended version of "the acorn scene." Bilbo sees his chance to snap Thorin out of his madness, and takes it.

The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction: The aftermath of war is no laughing matter. Those who died must be honoured, those who are wounded must be healed, and those who remain need food and clothing, peace and sanctuary. With Thorin's life hanging in the balance, it is up to Bilbo and the rest of the Company to rule the rag-tag remnants of Erebor in his place. Then there is the matter of the gold... Can Bilbo save both king and kingdom, or is Erebor destined to fall deeper into ruin?

The Color of Possibility by lindoreda: When Bilbo puts himself between Thorin and Azog's blade, his mithril shirt protecting them both, it isn't long before some dwarves whisper that 'Oakenshield' might not be the best epithet for their king anymore. But for Bilbo, barred from Thorin's sight since the battle, this new epithet only adds to the sting. Spending his days caring for the recovering princes, Bilbo wonders how much more of this he can take, not suspecting his place at the center of a silent divide in the company.

Homesick by Margo_Kim: Five years after they've reclaimed Erebor, Thorin is sick of home, Bilbo is just sick, and neither is handling the situation ideally.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe: In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End. He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

Notices in the Paper by YamBits: Bilbo returns to the Shire after his adventure, newly married, and newly homeless, after his two year absence allowed the Sackville-Bagginses to obtain Bag End. Bilbo and Thorin go to the Tooks for help, and find newly orphaned Frodo Baggins, also looking for a home.

A Royal Guardianship by ladyoakenshields: When Bilbo and Thorin return to the Shire for a sabbatical during Yuletide, they find a reason to retire the throne in Erebor sooner than expected.

The Shire's gems by awkwarng3: Thorin, Bilbo, and Frodo move to the Shire after raising Frodo in Erebor, and Frodo makes a friend.

Time travel fix-it fics

An expected journey by MarieJacquelyn: For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right? Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

Bilbo Baggins, warrior of the Valar by Pallalalo: Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “And you’ve come to the Shire to look for this someone? My, Gandalf, I wonder if you know Hobbits at all. They would tell you that adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. That they would make you late for dinner.” Bilbo recalled his own words perfectly. It had been something he and Gandalf had looked back on with bittersweet laughter. This Gandalf however noticed his exact words. “Would they now? And what about you, mhm? What would you tell me about adventures?” #The Valar send Bilbo back in time, to the day where Gandalf asks him to join in an adventure. After living a lifetime of regret and suffering, he vows to change things for the better. For Thorin. For Frodo. But will he succeed?

I'll die to care for you by thehufflepuffhobbit: His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try." "Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning. Or:Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.

Darker times ahead by Reach4theSky: Bilbo is sailing to the Undying Lands but wary of letting go of the guilt that has been with him for many decade. His most sincerest wish is to go back and change what was done. Before reaching the lands of peace and healing, he dies aboard the ship and finds that his wish is being granted, not because he is the one to wish it but because this is the dwarves last chance to escape a fate of eternal waiting. He finds that not only is he going to be sent back to his younger body, but so is the entire Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Time is a fickle thing and not all the members have their memories returned to them at the same time. The journey on becomes interesting as the dwarves slowly remember and fight for themselves and their kin, yet new hurdles are thrown at them when they realize that more people remember than expected...

Of an arcane binding by Salvia_G: An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor.

Legends by DomesticGoddess: The fellowship has set out on its noble quest to destroy the ring and put an end to the threat that is Sauron! Just set out really, barely left the gates of Imladris, but things are going smoothly enough so far. That is until the two most unlikely party crashers fall upon their little fellowship. Uncle Bilbo and the Legendary Thorin Oakenshield?! Frodo just wants to know what's going on but the two of them won't stop hollering at each other long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise. Suddenly, their little group is joined by Frodo's two biggest heroes and he discovers there was a lot more to Uncle Bilbo's stories than he realized.

Beside myself by bliboboggins: "What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.

Erebor never fell au fics

The hearth doesn't make the home by Moonrose91: For things Bilbo could not change, he was condemned to a life of isolation, with the belief that none could love him. And then a Dwarf came to Hobbiton.

Clarity of vision by Mithen: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.

Ghivashel by mdseiran: The last thing Bilbo expects when he stays up late one night is company. The strange dwarf and his companion crash into his life and prove unexpected saviours. But the dwarf seems to think he will be joining them on their travels, and Bilbo has no such intentions.

The Song of My Heart by DomesticGoddess: After a failed attempt of trying to carve out a new home in the Blue Mountains for his people, Thorin finds himself beseeching the Hobbit Thain and his council for a place for his people in their bountiful land. An agreement is struck and plans in the works for integrating his people into their land. The only condition being an arranged marriage between himself and one of their family heads. A small price to pay to see his people safe and well fed. Unfortunately, he’s to marry the most disagreeable hobbit in all the Shire who also seems to hold a personal grudge against him. If only he could figure out why his new betrothed hates him so much.

Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ: After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Karkûn shukula - A Cinderella AU by harrypanther: When the Prince of the Shire visits the Kingdom of Erebor, there is great excitement. There are hopes he will choose to marry one of the Royal Family, cementing an alliance that would secure food supplies for the dwarven Kingdom and gain new allies. All eligible dwarves are expected to attend a series of Balls. Unknown to the guests, there is a third royal child, manoeuvred out by his ambitious stepmother, for whom this may be his last chance of restoring his fortunes and escaping his fate…

Alone this Yuletide by Emsiecat: 'Alone this Yuletide? Irritated with prying and nosey family members? I am an out of work blacksmith currently trying to make my way by any means necessary that does not involve my resorting to thievery (prisons are most uncomfortable, I've unfortunate first hand experience). However, if you would like me to be your strictly platonic companion for any social function, but have me pretend that we are in a serious courtship, so as to torment your family and ward off unwanted suitors then I am more than obliging...' After becoming increasingly irritated by overtures of romance from various Shire residents following the death of his mother four years ago, Bilbo is more than ready to resort to desperate measures. That is, up to and including pretending to be in a serious relationship with a certain surly blacksmith currently inhabiting the Bindbale Woods. It's a good idea after all; all they have to do is pretend to be in love over the Yuletide period and Bilbo's family and suitors will surely leave him alone after that. It's perfect! And nothing can possibly go wrong, right? Certainly nothing as preposterous as falling for one another for real...

Modern au fics

Nothing gold can stay by perkynurples: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples: Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

Candid by northerntrash: Thorin wasn't entirely sure why there was a six-foot candid photograph of him hanging in this exhibition, but he was going to wring the neck of whoever had put it there. In which Bilbo is a photographer, Thorin an accidental model, and Gandalf just likes to make trouble for everyone.

How the west was won and where it got us by stickman: Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands. Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up. Except one morning, someone does. [graduate school AU]

Butterfly effect by eyra: Yoga wasn’t for him. Yoga was for interesting people. Luminous people; people who took gap years and spoke a foreign language. People who ate lentils and burned incense and had fantastic, colourful friends with fantastic, colourful lives full of travel and silent retreats and those baggy trousers with elephants on them. Yoga was decidedly not for people like Bilbo, who wore cardigans and ate beans on toast and whose linguistic capabilities stretched only as far as a rusty Spanish A-Level. Just your regular story of boy meets yoga instructor.

Remover of the obstacles by MistakenMagic: "Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

Color outside the lines by andquitefrankly: Kindergarten has just gotten significantly better. Just ask Thorin, who's got the biggest crush on the new kid in class, Bilbo Baggins. With the help of his friends, Thorin knows that he can take back the swings from the 1st graders, show up the K-1 class in the school pageant, and win the heart of one curly haired boy. Yup. Kindergarten is going to be a year to remember.

Bran' New Suit by pibroch (littleblackdog): Andrew's description had been sufficient to recognize him— a riot of honey brown curls, short in stature, a well-favoured face with expressive features— but it hadn't quite been enough to prepare Tom for the sharp, almost painful tug in his gut at the sight of the man. They had never met before, to the best of Tom's recollection, but there was something eerily and inexplicably familiar about him all the same.

Different species au fics

I've grown a hedge around my heart by pibroch (littleblackdog): "Thorin was the essence of so many Buckland oddities, distilled into one misfortunate young hobbit, much to his infinite embarrassment. Built like a stork, his father had said once, in an example of Thrain Brandybuck’s usual tactless humour. All beak and legs." Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood. It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him. Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.

In which the dwarves are satyrs for reasons by HiddenKitty What the title says basically.

Bride of the demon king by DomesticGoddess: Thorin is King of the demons, a beast-like race feared by humans. Ever since the demons and humans formed a truce years ago, the humans have sent a young human every year as a tribute to the King of demons. Thorin is tired of having to deal with the tribute that has long since lost its meaning. The only tribute he'd be interested in is the boy he met fifteen years ago on the border of the demon and human realms. Despite his fantasies, Thorin knows the chances of ever seeing the boy again are slim to none, until they're not.

Lost He Wandered Under Leaves by serenbach: Thorin son of Thrain is a struggling blacksmith descended from a fallen line of kings. In an attempt to provide for his family over the winter, he reluctantly accepts an impossible sounding task - to hunt down an enchanted deer that lives in the Old Forest that borders the Shire, and make armour and weapons from its hide and antlers. He never expected to succeed. And he certainly never expected what he found to change his life so completely.

A Dryad's Tale by Bilbo Baggins by Moongazer12: Bilbo is a dryad (think little sibling to ents). Long ago a curse was placed upon him from destroying one of the rings of power. Whenever he touches someone with his bare skin he will make them insane. But despite this, he and Gandalf have gone on many adventures to help protect Middle Earth (What was the point to destroying the ring if something else destroyed it instead?) Gandalf has called on him once again to help on a quest, Bilbo just hopes that they read his amendments to the contract.

The quest but with a twist au fics

King, come at the red morning by Tawabids: Bilbo has heard fairytales of the lost prince of the dwarves, Thorin son of Thrain, who disappeared the day Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain. But he does not believe in fairytales until he comes across the dwarf sleeping in the depths of Erebor, and kisses him back to life. Now Thorin - a hundred and fifty years out of his time - has to confront a world in which his city is empty, his people scattered, his baby brother Frerin is king, two nephews he's never met are missing in action, and a war is brewing right on his doorstep. And as if that wasn't complicated enough he's trapped in the body of an old man and falling stupidly in love with a gossipy, grudging little hobbit.

When the sun rises by Harry1981: Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was not a very respectable Hobbit. No respectable Hobbit had a sword and crossbow hanging in their home, nor did they have Dwarves as family. But Bilbo Baggins did, and all of Shire knew of his husband, blacksmith Thorin Oakenshield. When Bilbo comes home to find his Husband earlier than expected, he learns of a quest to reclaim Erebor. It is a death mission. Bilbo knows that Dwarves are stubborn creatures, and none more than Thorin himself. But nobody said that Bilbo himself was any less stubborn. So he will follow his dearest husband across all of Middle Earth, through plains and mountains and forests, all while hiding the true nature of their relationship (Dwarven politics never helped anyone), brushing off some old wounds (and getting new ones) and finding out new things about the dwarf Bilbo calls husband (and his extended family). Nobody ever said love was easy, after all.

Small, but fierce by DomesticGoddess: As a result of a magical mishap during the trip to the lonely mountain, Bilbo is reverted to a wee little hobbitling. Only in body, of course. His adult mind is still very aware of the indignity of it all (seriously! He doesn't need to be coddled, carried, and fed like a child). It turns out, dwarves love children and there is nothing cuter than Hobbit children. Bilbo soon realizes that he can get away with just about anything in his babyish form and starts taking full advantage of it. Even the grumpy brooding king can't deny the angelic little creature anything he desires (and Bilbo's going to milk that for all it's worth).

Your song like a home in my heart by Nennvial: In Middle Earth, all creatures have a soulmate. Not all have some, but if they do, it is a bond nothing can break, not even death. The more famous story of such a bound was the story of Bren and Luthien, who even defied detath. The way someone can find out that the other is one’s soulmate is through song: when they meet and hear the voice of the other, a song sings in their heart, which feels like home and makes them complete. They may refuse it if they wish to do so, but they hence risk a life of bitter looniness. Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins are soulmates, but they must admit it to themselves throughout their journey to Erebor.

To Dungeons Deep (And Caverns Old) by KingUndertheMountain: Bilbo Baggins was not your average hobbit. Of course, he had the wonderfully groomed and well-taken-care-of hairy feet like every other one of his race, yes, but he was not like other hobbits. He was cursed. Or, as the witch who gave him the enchantment put it, was “gifted”. She had given him the “gift” of obedience – whenever there was a direct command given to him, for example “cook a large meal” or “take a walk”, he could not disobey. Not without a lot of pain and eventual submission.

Chocolate candy one-shots

The world is sleeping (my world is you) by katheneverwrites (mandolinearts): I asked Persephone, “How could you grow to love him? He took you from flowers to a kingdom where not a single living thing can grow.” Persephone smiled, “My darling, every flower on your earth withers. What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” - Nikita Gill ---“What do you mean, my friend?” There is a line of thought that surfaces in Gandalf’s mind, but he drowns it before it can take root. Surely not. But Bilbo’s chuckle sets him on edge. The small, gentle god of harvest, nature, and flowers sits up straighter, and in his crown of flowers there is a wire of strong metal, his cloak is suddenly not colorful anymore but the deepest black and he is terrifying, horrific, powerful - “I married Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the World.”

Of seasons by northerntrash: As far as he could tell, he had been kidnapped, which in itself made this week more than a little unusual. In which Bilbo steals away the Lord of Death, and Thorin can't quite bring himself to stay angry about it.

Warm up by paranoid_fridge: On one of their walks, Bilbo tumbles into a stream. They make it back to Bag End and Bilbo demands Thorin warm him up.

Royal Blue And Crimson Red by Mistofstars: Here's what happened before and after Bilbo accidentally eavesdrops on Gandalf and Elrond at night in Rivendell, as they discuss Thorin's quest and his family's history. Oh, and Thorin and Bilbo share a room, of course ;)

I was young when I left home by Margo_Kim: There was a pity clapper somewhere in the third row. Thorin finished his fourth song to polite applause from the people who noticed that the song was finished, but within the smattering of claps was someone beating his hands together like he was trying to rhythmically kill a fly. There was usually one of those, the kind who notices that no one else is paying attention and so is determined to compensate for that regardless of how they feel about the actual music. Thorin ignored him. It was easy to do so—he'd always hated looking at the audience when the singing was done.

A matter of buttons by StupidFatPenguin: “Your shirt,” says Thorin, quite out of the blue, and Bilbo looks down his front to see if there is a spot of tea or jam or anything equally embarrassing spilled on it. He is relieved to find nothing of the sort and looks up at the dwarf with an eyebrow raised in question. Thorin sits mute, his still-smoking pipe forgotten in his hand. He looks on for long moments still, seems almost lost to a thought before he shifts and lifts his gaze to meet Bilbo’s inquiring face. “It is familiar to me. Did you not wear this on the eve we met?” In which Bilbo and Thorin re-enact the evening they met.

The ladder by Milliethekitty27: Inspired from a post made by wheeloffortune-design on tumblr. Tired of his lonely kitchen in Yavanna's Garden, Bilbo Baggins wonders if the dwarven love of being underground is true in death. If so, maybe his dwarves are living (ha ha) under the very land Bilbo is weeding. With that thought, Bilbo goes and asks Hamfast for a shovel.

Love hobbit by HybridOwl: Bilbo Baggins considers himself a bit of a cock up, all things considered. He never made it out of his small highway adjacent town, can't seem to stop chain-smoking, and overall has more to talk about with the plants in his shop than 90% of all the rest of Middle Earth. So when he's reading the morning paper and a love note that can't be for anyone but him pops up, he's pretty sure - almost positive, really - that he's being made fun of. "TO the chain-smoking little stud who collects two metros from Gamgee's Goods every morning, will you be my love hobbit? - Bearded Biker." (heavily inspired by tumblr posts)

Fusion with other fandoms au fics

The Second Time by authoressjean; Sebastian Moran can't pull the trigger on John Watson to save his own hide, and what the hell is it with the doctor, anyway? Then Gandalf shows up, meddlesome wizard, and reminds him none too gently of his past life: as Thorin Oakenshield, leader of a company that had once included a small hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. One that looked decidedly like John Watson. And this would be the perfect chance to make things right with Bilbo the way he really hadn't been able to before he died, and that's when Gandalf tells him John doesn't remember being Bilbo, and to leave him alone. Right. Like that's going to happen.

And sow a star divided in us by MistakenMagic: Short summary: Gays in space! Longer summary: After his first successful solo mission, Jedi Knight Bilbo Baggins, trained by High Council member and full-time nuisance, Master Gandalf, returns to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. During an excursion to the sparring arena, he meets a group of Dwarven Jedi from Ered Luin, a mountainous planet located in the Outer Rim. Young padawans, Fili and Kili, are full of curiosity at this strange, barefoot Jedi, but Master Thorin, who appears to have the personality of a rancor and mental shields like blast doors, is less than impressed.

Comics you should definitely check

Every work by rutobuka, seriously they're criminally cute and they're not still favored by everyone without reason.

Retelling the Hobbit by Mellow_Comics: Bilbo has never been good at telling the "true" story of what happened on his journey to the Lonely Mountain. Now he's trying to turn the tale of his quest into a lighthearted children's book-- a bedtime story for his young nephew Frodo. But what really happened on his journey? And how did it actually affect him? This is a comic adaptation/retelling of the Hobbit! It's framed as a bedtime story that Bilbo is telling a younger Frodo.

For now these are some of my personal favourites! However, I'm sure my list will grow since my reading list has some gems still waiting for me to read, so be certain that there will be a part 2 of this list!

[ladyinbooks]

when you get this you have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers ♡

Oh gosh @mikeellee - this was tough! However, I will say that it was worth doing. I know I'm incredibly guilty of not stopping to appreciate the things I have, and this forced me to do that today. So thank you. ❤️

Tagging @mikeellee @engineering-fangirl @kinkkinen-sukka @quenilla @bluepandawrites and anyone else who wants to have a go (I'd urge you to do so)!

1) I like my smile. I like that I'm able to smile. That things bring me joy (little things, big things, it doesn't matter), and that I am one of those people that out-and-out grins when they're happy.

2) I like the fact that I always try my best to be kind. I'm really, really not perfect, but I'm a firm believer that kindness is a choice. I think we live in a world where choosing to be kind can often be the harder option, and I think making a conscious effort to show kindness is important. A much smarter person than me once explained that we never know what other people are going through. There's no handy cheat sheet, or stats hovering above peoples' heads. In the end, how do you know the kindness you show someone today (even if they're not kind in return) isn't going to help them tomorrow?

3) I like my freckles, but I like my laughter lines more. I've had them from a very young age, and you know what? I have them because I smile. Because I laugh. They're a badge of honour, and I get them whenever I'm happy.

4) I like the fact that I get way too excited about ancient history. I'm a geek about it. I love teaching it; I love talking about it. I adore digging through dusty old texts and translating words from humans who lived and breathed thousands of years ago; I love the fact that I'm walking in the footsteps of giants when I do.

5) I like my writing. It's not perfect (hell, it's never going to be perfect!), but when I started writing again with IB, it made me so, so happy to realise people were enjoying the things I created. I like that I'm able to help people with a bit of escapism; that people have fun with something I've made. It just makes me very, very happy to see.

tl;dr - I'm someone who believes that there's good in this world, Frodo Baggins, and it's worth fighting for. :)

[hoglady]

Surprise

Okay, so this is my very first fanfiction!!!! I am both excited and terrified.

Basically I had a dream that was so real and vivid that I decided to write it down. Please be gentle!

Warning: none, fluff

You were together for over four years now. You met at your mutual friend's party and immediately hit it off. A heating argument about Frodo Baggins might be the cause of your chemistry. After the party, you stayed in contact. It was hard at the beginning, as you had a regular office job and he was, of course, traveling due to filming. Nevertheless, you skyped a lot and see each other every possible time you had. After a year you moved in together and after another two he asked the big question. The big wedding was set in 2020 but of course, due to pandemics, you had to reevaluate your plans. You did small home reception with the closest family and friends.

The day before, you arrived to the yacht that Henry rented for a short trip with your friends. He had a break from Witcher filming so you gathered your closest friends and went on yacht for a week to Croatia. Once you arrived to the docks, it was already night so you briefly unpacked and went to the city for a dinner. The evening was warm, sky was clear, you were drinking wine by the sea - perfect paradise.

After the dinner you all came back to the yacht to go to sleep as it was past midnight already.

"Come babe, I want to show you something" Henry said taking your hand. He guided you to the top deck and pointed at the sky. It was the most beautiful view you have ever seen. The clear starry sky, the moon was shining, calm sea and the mountains right next to it.

"Hen it's beautiful!" you stated.

"You're beautiful.." he hugged you from behind and started to kiss your neck.

"Okaaaaay I know what you're doing, mister. I suggest we go back to the cabin so that you can continue with sucking up to me" you turned around and whispered in his ear. You bit his earlobe and started to walk back.

"I got so lucky" Henry mumbled to himself and followed you with a stupid grin on his face.

The night was over before you knew, so you slept in a little bit longer than usual. Henry got up first and went for a short run to the seaside. You woke up happy but tired from the night activities. You were still at the dock as you were going to do small shopping in the morning so that you can go for an all-day cruise. The first couple of hours on the sea always gives you small sea sickness so you were not surprised when sudden nausea hit you. After sorting yourself out you went to the deck to join the rest. You all sat, ate and talk.

"You okay babe? You look pale." Henry whispered to you.

"Yep, just have to get used to the rocking and the waves" you kissed him on the cheek and he squeezed your thigh. After the breakfast, the ladies went to the nearest supermarket for the grocery shopping, as guys stayed on the yacht and started to prepare it for the cruise. Luckily, one of Henry's friend had a boat license so you didn't need any other crew members. While doing the shopping, one thing draw your attention. You bought everything and went back on the yacht. You left the docks and started the cruise between the lovely small Croatian islands.

The day went by so quickly - you were doing short stops for swimming in the sea, sunbathing and just relaxing. The sun has started to decent so the yacht was heading towards another Village to dock for the night. As the air got a bit chilly you went to the cabin to change clothes. As you were going through your clothes, you found the thing that you bought in the morning. The truth is you were feeling a bit tired lately and the nausea you felt this morning gave you a hunch to buy a pregnancy test. You knew Henry was eager to have kids but he didn't pressure you. After the wedding you two just decided to leave it for the faith - he was often gone for a week or two so you both figured to focus on the expanding the family once he will be more at home. You went to the bathroom and do what was instructed on the box.

As you waited for the minutes to pass, you started to imagine having a small replica of Henry. You always wanted a girl so that you can dress her in all the cute clothes but lately, the vision of small Henry running all over the house grew on you. The timer went off so a little bit nervous you looked down on the stick. A wave of joy and tears hit you immediately as you saw two stripes. All you wanted to do is run to Henry and tell him the news. After the minute you actually rethink the whole situation and decided to wait with the news when you two are alone. You dressed warmer and went back to the rest.

"Well someone is happy" Henry smiled at you as you emerged from the door.

"I'm just happy to see you again" you grinned and focused on not being overly excited but inside you were screaming with joy. You made a plan on how to tell Henry good news but you needed another day to go buy something. As the night approached, you all were tired from the active day so you went to your cabins.

"I love having a holiday. We must do it more often." Henry sighed and smiled while lying on the bed relaxed. He was drunk as the guys discovered local beer last night and bought a lot of bottles which were all gone by now. Drunk Henry was even cuter than regular Henry as he got all loving and chill." I love you Y/N. You are like, you know, the love of my life... I miss Kal. Can we call Kal? I'm gonna call Kal." Kal was at Henry's parents as he wouldn't feel good on the boat. It was just past midnight so too late to "call" the dog.

"Hens it's late already, we will call Kal in the morning." you said soothingly taking the phone out of his hand.

"Okay MOM. I think I will sleep now" he mumbled and fell asleep. You laughed at this goof and took off his shoes. You went for a shower and joined him in bed minutes after.

You woke up first, as Henry needed more sleep that morning due to the alcohol absorbed last night. You quickly got up and decided to go buy the thing you wanted to deliver good news. Luckily you were back before he woke up. You joined the girls in preparing the breakfast as the guys were sleeping in.

The day was lazy, your friends went to the nearby beach.

"Henry, do you want to go for a walk to see the village? I want to buy some souvenirs" you asked. You decided you can't wait any longer and wanted to tell him right away.

"Sure. Let's go" he agreed.

As you were walking by the seaside, eventually you wandered to a secluded part of the beach and you decided it is the best moment to tell him.

"Babe, I actually bought you something" you said handing him a striped T-shirt with the writing "Captain Dad reporting for duty". You saw he was confused for a bit but after a split second his eyes went wide.

"Does it... It means... We're having a baby?!" he looked at you with the biggest grin.

"Yes babe, I'm pregnant!" He momentarily scooped you into his arms and kissed you mumbling "I love you" in-between kisses.

"I didn't want to tell you on the boat. I don't think we should tell people yet." you two were standing in an embrace and grinning towards each other.

"How long have you known?"

"I did the test yesterday. So first let's go see the doctor once we're back and then we will tell, okay?" you asked.

"I will try to hide my excitement, although it might be quite hard" he agreed and kissed you once again.

You continue your stroll talking about the baby, laughing, kissing and smiling.

"You know what, I think we must go back to the boat. I need to specifically express my excitement and gratitude in the dim light of our cabin." Henry said giving you a quick slap on your ass. You loved this dork. And oh did he show his excitement alright that night.

[officialleotolstoy]

lotr and the grishaverse <3

LOTR

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): mmmm I think it’s probably frodo? He is just So. Mentol illness babes

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): bill the pony /hj

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): FARAMIR. LOOK AT HOW THEY (peter jackson) MASSACRED MY BOY

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): see it always WAS kili but then they made the hobbit movies and :( so now its shelob unironically i wrote an essay on her once so i think of her <3 also the witch-king of angmar for some reason

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): gollum. what can i say i like him

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): wormtongue because i want to see him suffer but also celebrimbor because i think watching him fall apart is fun

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): lobelia sackville-baggins :/

GRISHAVERSE

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): nikolai lantsov.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): SHOW alina, joost, oncat

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): baghra and harshaw

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): there’s a background character with the same name as my cringefail grishaverse oc from 2015 so. that one

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): ace!kaz specifically i am aware it’s objectively bad rep but have you considered im ace and i want it

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): THE DARKLING. SUFFER. also matthias needs to be hit with the de-horny stick

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): the darkling again and also tante heleen

[amxranthiine]

c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii

cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her 

 A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙  Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!

Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way.  After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly.  Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.

He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be.  Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out.  Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently.  “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good.  “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss.  I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins.  Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known.  As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair.  The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking.  “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger.  The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies.  “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair...  He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation.  Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door.  In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling.  After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable.  It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants.  I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts.  “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories!  Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked.  “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude,  “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)

[amessywritersmind]

Sunrise, Blue Eyes - Frodo Baggins

Summary: A spur of the moment decision to see the sunrise turns out better than Frodo could have ever hoped for.

Word Count: 1636

Note: Hello everyone! I’ve already gotten some requests, which I’m super excited about!! Before I start working on those though, I wanted to start finishing up stories that have spent months in my drafts! Most of them are almost done, just needing a few paragraphs to close them out, so I will be finishing those up and then getting to work on those requests asap!! Anyways, enjoy! 

Blonde hair billowed out behind her as she ran, Frodo hot on her tail. How Laurelia had this much energy this early in the morning, Frodo would never know. Why he even agreed to be out here at such a time, an hour before sunrise, when he could be curled up in his warm bed in Bag End was beyond him. Really though, he knew the answer to that question without even having to try.

She had asked him to come with her to a great hill overlooking Hobbiton, hours before the sun was in the sky, and without asking why, Frodo had agreed right away. It was something he often found himself doing, agreeing to her impulsive and sometimes outrageous ideas without knowing fully what he was getting himself into, though he didn't see that changing anytime soon. He didn't know why, but it was like he just couldn't help himself.

Shaking these thoughts out of his head, Frodo focused his attention back towards the bubbling girl in front of him, winding through the tall grass of a field, glowing with excitement at whatever she was dragging him to.

"Hurry! We can't be late!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"Well, Lia, not all of us wake up with the energy of the sun itself inside us!" Frodo grumbled out in fake annoyance, though the smile in his voice was not lost on her.

At his comment, Laurelia turned back slightly, her face radiant with mirth, and grabbed Frodo's hand with a laugh, tugging him faster up the hill in front of them.

"Only a little further, my sleepy head, and then we'll be there and you can rest to your heart's content." she promised sweetly.

"and i'm using you as a pillow!" he shot back, a smirk now prominent on his face. He couldn't stay mad at her for long, not even fake-mad.

Finally, they reached the peak of the hill, sitting down in the cool, green grass. Once Frodo had caught his breath again, he took in the sight in front of him. From this view point, he felt like he could see all of The Shire. Little smials, lit up with front porch lamps, scattered the rolling hills, a few stars still twinkled above him, and he was sat in the middle of it all, right next to his bestfriend, and long time love (though nothing was official just yet). It took his breath away.

"Woah..." he whispered, almost to himself.

"It's beautiful isn't it? Just wait, when the sun comes over that horizon line. The whole valley glows. The way the sun reflects off the dew drops on the grass, the roosters crow to announce the start of the day, the birdsong to welcome you as the sun rays say 'good morning'...it's all so...magical." Laurelia spoke aloud as the first rays of sun split over the horizon.

A light breeze fluttered past the pair, rustling the branches and leaves of nearby foliage. Frodo felt himself shiver, the movement catching Lia's attention. Without saying a word, she tucked one arm under Frodo's nearest to her, looping it through in order to hug herself to him. She placed her head gently on Frodo's shoulder, taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes, his chocolate curls tickling her forehead lightly. He was instantly warmer.

He rested his head on top of her own as a bird, the first sign of life aside from the two of them, flys past, landing on a little bush near the edge of the hilltop. Frodo watches as it plucks the leaves and little berries from the bush, not seeming to mind the world going on around it. 

“I’m glad I decided to come” he found himself stating quietly. 

“I am too” Laurelia all but whispered. 

After a few more minutes of silence, the sun now half way above the horizon, Lia spoke again. 

“Do you remember when we met?” she wondered aloud. Frodo chuckled at the memory. 

“Yes. I had just moved in with Uncle Bilbo that day. Infact, I had barely finished getting settled before you were banging away on the front door, demanding Bilbo introduce us.” He laughed, nudging her lightly with the shoulder she was resting upon. She tapped his arm lightly at that. 

“Aren’t you glad I did? I, my friend, have saved you from a lifetime of boredom, which you inevitable would’ve had, had it not been for me” Laurelia continued joking. Frodo laughed in agreement. 

“You were so cute back then, what with your curly hair and your wide, curious blue eyes...” she trailed off, suddenly feeling extremely nostalgic. “that’s what first drew me to you y’know, aside from the fact that you were new in town.” she finished, squeezing his arm once more. 

“What? My blue eyes?” He asked, genuinely curious now. 

“No, silly! Well, ok yes, but not just the color. It was something more. I’ll never forget how I felt when I saw those eyes of yours for the first time...” She began, looking up at him briefly. He gazed back at her with the same intensity she had felt on that very first day. She cleared her throat and looked back out at the sunrise, the glow of the sun illuminating the rosy tint that had appeared across her cheeks. 

“Something in them spoke to me that day. For one reason or the other, I looked into them and it was like they were the only thing I could focus on. They told me of a kindness, a special kind that only the purest of souls can posses. They made me feel safe, and welcomed. I knew instantly that I could trust you in that moment. They told me of a love, a love that you give so selflessly and freely, a love that I’ve been lucky enough to receive ever since.” Laurelia spoke her mind freely, not stopping once to think about how this all must sound, spilling out of her mouth in the early hours of the morning. A secret meant only for her ears, and his. 

“And what do you see now? When you look into my eyes...”Frodo whispered almost dreamily. 

Laurelia pulled away from him slightly, enough to look him in the eye, but not enough to sever their connected limbs completely. She took her time getting lost in those eyes, ones she’s become so familiar with over the years. She tried to find a string of words that would describe what she saw, no, more like what she felt when she looked into his eyes but it was as if all speech had evaded her. Finally, a single word came to mind. The clarity of it hit her like a wave.

“Home.” she stated simply, there was no other way to describe it. 

Frodo couldn’t help the ragged breath that fell from his lips at that answer. 

“Home.” he stated again, tasting the word on his tongue. He came to the conclusion long ago that by her side was the place for him, and he stuck by that thoroughly, but to hear her say this gave him hope. Hope that maybe, she felt for him like he did her. There was only one way to find out. 

Frodo hadn’t noticed how close they were to each other, but the longer she looked him in the eye with so much intensity and admiration as she was now, the more he felt physically pulled to her. And her to him. Before either them knew what was happening, their lips had touched. 

Warmth flooded the both of them, the tenderness of the moment and the glow of the valley below, illuminated by the rising sun, was enough to make Frodo feel as if his heart was about to burst out of his chest. Not with the sadness Frodo felt when remembering his parents, nor with the anxiety he sometimes got when the town began stirring up new rumors about he and his uncle. No, this feeling was different, more pleasant. It was love.

As the two pulled away, the sun had finished its rise over the hilltop, its rays reaching the blushing couple. 

“I love you” Frodo found himself whispering, a rooster sounding far off in the distance. 

“And I, you. Always have.” Laurelia admitted gently, facing forward again and returning her arms, and head, to their previous positions. 

Down below, Hobbiton stirred to life. Farmers got to work in their fields, merchants began setting up their stalls in the town square, the morning air was full of peace and happiness, and most importantly, Frodo had his home resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I really am glad I came.” he found himself saying after a few moments of silence. 

“I knew you would be! And look, you didn’t even fall asleep once!” she exclaimed quietly, giggling lightly. 

“Now, we best get back before your uncle notices I’ve stolen you away again!” Laurelia began, getting up. Frodo stood as well, stretching his limbs slightly to regain feeling in them. While he was doing so he could help but see Lia staring at him with eyes full of love and a hint of something else. 

“What?” Frodo laughed out. The only reply he got was Lia stepping closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms moved without thought, snaking themselves around her waist. Before Frodo could question any further, Lia leaned in close, right past his lips and to his ear.

“Race ya” She whispered with a smirk before planting a kiss on his cheek and taking off down the hill. Frodo was stunned momentarily before finally regaining his senses. Shaking his head, a smile unable to leave his lips, he raced down the hill after her, following after those billowing blonde curls once again. 

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

Destiny Calling: Chapter 5

Aragorn didn't know why he was following Boromir, but he was. Course, Boromir had no clue because as he mentioned to Frodo, he could be practically invisible if he wished. He for the most part didn't do anything of an interest to Aragorn. He didn't do anything rude and was in fact, very respectful. He met you briefly, bowing respectfully but you stopped him, saying that you were not someone he had to bow to and wished to be seen as an equal. You said that to most of the people that made an attempt to show some sort of sign of acknowledgement that you were royalty. Aragorn though, noticed his asking of the heirlooms of Isildur. You told him where they were, seeing as when men passed through, they treated the library like a museum of sorts, looking at the remnants of history, collected over the years.

He stuck to the shadows as he watched Boromir. He stared at the broken sword in awe. "The shards of Narsil... the blade that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand." Boromir muttered to himself as he looked at it. He brushed his fingers on the side of the broken blade. "Still sharp.." He whispered. He often wondered to himself if there was anyway he was an heir to Isildur. He knew though that the line had died out... At least that's what he was taught. He had no idea that the other man in the room shared the blood of the man who's sword he was holding. He felt eyes on him, turning to see Aragorn watching him. "But no more than a broken heirloom." He said, setting it back. It slid off, clattering to the ground as he walked off.

Aragorn rose a brow, picking up the hilt from the floor. You walked over, looking at his observant eyes. You could see visible fear in them as he looked at the blade. " You're still afraid of his past, why? You are Isildur's heir...not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his mistake." You said softly, putting your hand on his shoulder. He held the hilt with one hand, his other on top of your hand.  "The same blood flows in my veins...the same weakness..." He muttered, looking at the blade. "Your time will come. You will face the same evil...and you will defeat it. You will not be alone through this either." You said softly. He looked at you and then the blade, still uncertain. "Ni sinte -yes's frightening Aragorn. Mal enyal- sina burden does vamme sér- on your shoulders er. Ni am símen. Always indóme n-. (I know it's frightening Aragorn. But remember this burden does not rest on your shoulders alone. I am here. Always will be.)" You said softly. He looked at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before setting the hilt down, walking with you.

You held his hand, whispering sweet little things in his ear to make sure he knew he was safe. He felt calmer around you, like he was always walking on air. He loved making you laugh, it was his favorite thing. He loved your smile, your laugh, the way you breathed... By the gods he loved everything about you. He went to bed that night, you in his arms. Elrond by no means approved of you two sleeping in the same room, much less the same bed as you but he knew for a fact that there was no separating you two. Aragorn typically went to sleep, speaking of past adventures to you. Other times he'd fall asleep just saying how his days went. On the nights he couldn't sleep, you'd tell him of your adventures of Mirkwood, how you'd sometimes try to leave, only to end up at the end Thranduil's icy gaze.

The morning sun shone through the window, you leaning up. You looked over to see a dress already laid out. You rolled your eyes, putting it on in silence. You fiddled with the back strings but felt a pair of hands tying it for you. "I see your sister has been in here." Aragorn said. You chuckled. "She does love to dress me like I'm still a child." You muttered, brushing out the red fabric. "At least she is aware that red is a beautiful color on you." He said making you smile. "And you know what colors I look best in?" you asked. "Usually blue makes you look very pale. Red however brings out your eyes. Green though... Green makes you look very regal." He said making you laugh. "And you know this all, how?" you asked, turning to him. "You wore green at your coronation." he said making you smile before you both left.

You took your seat next to your father, sitting up straight. Elrond leaned over. "Are you prepared for what's to come?" He asked. "Have hope father. We will do this." you said. "With you with them? Of course." He said making you smile as everyone sat down. Frodo looked at you, a small amount of anxiety leaving him as he looked at your little wave. "Bring forth the ring, Frodo." Elrond instructed. He nodded, getting up and setting the ring on a stone plinth before sitting back down next to Gandalf. "So it is true!" Boromir gaped. "Sauron's ring of power." Legolas gaped. "The doom of man." A dwarf said. "It is a gift...a gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay...by the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy...let us use it against him!" Boromir exclaimed.

You and Aragorn exchanged a look.  You already had a feeling you knew how Boromir meets his fate. "This something a lot more powerful than any man can handle." you said. "What would you know of this?" He asked making Legolas grit his teeth and Aragorn resist snapping.  you said nothing, looking at him with annoyance. If you opened your mouth, you knew your wit would be too quick for your father to stop and you'd say something distasteful. "She is right. You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone...it has no other master." Aragorn said calmly, though still clearly annoyed. "And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked.

"This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Legolas snapped. You facepalmed and Frodo looked at Aragorn confused. "Aragorn... This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked. "And heir to Gondor." Legolas added. "Havo dad, Legolas...Sit down, Legolas.." Aragorn said. Legolas sighed, sitting back down. Boromir locked onto Aragorn. "Gondor needs no king." He muttered. "Aragorn and Y/n are right...we cannot use it." Gandalf said. "You have only one choice." Elrond said. "The Ring must be destroyed." You said, staring at the golden ring. You could feel the negative energy practically radiate off of it. "What are we waiting for?" The dwarf asked, approaching the pedestal with his axe drawn. You saw him gear up to attack.

"Wait-" But it was too late in trying to warn him. His axe broke on impact, knocking him to the ground. You noticed Frodo wince, raising  brow but getting up to assist the dwarf in standing. He waved you off and you noticed him grimace. "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came." Elrond said. "One of you must do this." You said. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!" Boromir said as you sat back down. "If it was done once, it can be done again." you said. "Have you heard nothing I have said!?" Boromir asked. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!" Legolas asked. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" Gimli asked. You sighed. "We've made no such claim, neither has Legolas." You halted. "And if we fail, what then?! What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!" Boromir asked.  "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli shouted.

You sighed. "Gimli your hatred for my people is understandable, but do not think of what is best for you but for the rest of the world." you said. "Understandable? Y/n do you hear yourself—" "Father, do not begin with me. You know my opinion." you halted. Gimli rose a brow, never hearing talk of an elf actually agreeing with him. "This is ridiculous, who is taking the ring!?" Boromir asked, the group dissolving into arguing. "Do you not understand that while we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows?! None can escape it" Gandalf yelled. You sat in your seat, head in your hand as you looked at it. The group only argued more and more before you heard something.

"I will take it." Frodo said. You looked up, astonished at the young hobbit's choice. "I will take it!" He repeated so the rest could hear. Everyone looked at him with wide eyes. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though-- I do not know the way." He said. Gandalf seemed disappointed with this. Not by Frodo's choice but by the fact that this is what it had come to. A poor hobbit who's most likely had to uproot his whole life for this quest to Rivendell and now he had agreed to take it even further. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf said, putting his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "You have chosen a very dangerous task Mister Baggins. But I will assist you with this." you said, standing up. Boromir was shocked that a woman would even want part in this at all, much less volunteering for battle. You kneeled to Frodo. "You have my blades." you said. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will" Aragorn said, clearly speaking to Frodo but looking at you before he too, kneeled. "You have my sword." He said, now looking at Frodo. "And you have my bow." Legolas said, standing near you. "And my axe!" Gimli chimed in. "You carry the fates of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done." Boromir said.

You heard a rustle before Sam darted out from the bushed, making you smile. "Mr. Frodo is not goin’ anywhere without me!" He said. "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Elrond said, clearly amused by the actions of Sam. You heard more footsteps. "Wait! We are coming too!" Merry and Pippin shouted. You exchanged a smile with Aragorn. "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry said. "Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest... thing." Pippin said. "That rules you out Pip." Merry muttered making you bite back a snort. "Ten companions... So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" Elrond announced. "Great! Where are we going?" Pippin asked making Aragorn finally crack a laugh. You chuckled, looking across at your lover with a smile. Boromir rose a brow, noticing the exchange.

You packed that night, feeling relief when you wore your armor rather than your dress. Dinner was spent with talks of roads until your brothers arrived. "Who might you be?" Pippin asked. "Pippin, those are my brothers" You said with a smile. "Elladan." you introduced as he sat next to you. "Elrohir." you introduced as he sat down on your other side. "How many siblings do you have?" Merry asked. "Just three." you answered. Arwen sipped on her drink. "I must say... It is rather peculiar for you to wish to join us on the journey." Boromir said. "Not if you know Y/n." Elladan said. "What are you like?" Boromir asked. "Curious." you said. "...Insane." "reckless" "hyperactive." Your siblings chimed in. "I'd say more... Spirited." Legolas said. " You know her personally?" Frodo asked. "My father helped raise her." He said. "I'd say she's a valuable asset." Aragorn said. "Thank you!" You huffed. "Well we all know why you think that." Elrohir teased. Aragorn hid his smile by taking a drink as you flushed pink with embarrassment. "How is she a valuable asset?" Sam asked. "She has an ability to speak with nature." Aragorn answered. "I thought all elves had that ability." Boromir said confused. "Yes, we do. But it is usually very hard to hear without focus. It sounds like whispers. Y/n can hear them without trying and she can actually make it respond." Arwen answered. "I see." Boromir muttered. "It comes from her lack of immortality." Legolas said. Everyone else looked up. "You're not immortal?" Merry asked. "No." you shook your head. "I thought all elves were." Pippin said. "We can choose not to be." You said. "Why did you choose not to be?" Frodo asked. "Which reason would you like to hear?" you asked. "Any of them?" Frodo said confused. "...I felt it to be an unfair advantage for those who were not blessed with long lives." You said. "What was the other reason Miss Y/n?" Sam asked. You looked over at Aragorn and smiled. "I wish to spend one lifetime with the one that makes me content than to spend thousands walking this plain alone." You answered.

All the hobbits noticed the look that Aragorn and you exchanged. It was confirmed to everyone at the table that you and Aragorn were definitely in some sort of relationship. Gimli however was pretty much the only person at the table who had no idea to the relationship. Aragorn smiled, looking at his glass. Arwen fidgeted with her necklace in thought. "Uh... Miss..." "Arwen." She reminded Sam. "Right. Miss Arwen, what is that necklace?" He asked. "The Evenstar necklace is like a symbol to our family name." She said. "My sister wears one as well." She added, you showing it. "We have crests on our armor." Elladan said. The group seemed interested in mostly you. Not much was known about you due to your awkward start of the journey. You revealed some interesting facts to them, telling them of your abilities of foresight but keeping Boromir's death secret. The fact though they fixated on was your ringwraith visions. "You knew they were coming?" Frodo asked. "Normally I can feel them." you admitted. "What does it feel like?" Pippin asked. You pondered, a grave look coming over you. "Dread...Darkness. I... can usually smell blood too." you muttered. Aragorn frowned. He knew your visions were a burden to you. Sometimes if you spoke on a subject long enough you'd basically force yourself into having another vision. He sat there, observing your eyes as they closed.

You leaned forward, Arwen stopping your body from hitting the table. Sam rose and Aragorn got up, walking over and kneeling next to you. You opened your eyes. "Are tye alright mime mel (are you alright my love)?" He asked. You nodded slowly. Arwen handed you a glass of water. "Frodo, I'm sorry that is what you have to bare." You muttered. Frodo rose a brow. "What do you mean?" He asked. "I've seen the visions you've had." You muttered. He blinked. "You have?" He asked. "The voices... The eye... Fires..." You shook your head and put your hand to your head. "Perhaps you should lie down." He said. You shook your head. "I'm alright. I swear." You said. Elladan stood up. "I'll switch seats so you can ensure she'll be fine. " He said. You said nothing, feeling a slight headache as you heard a low hum from the ring. You looked at it, Elrohir noticing your tired eyes before Aragorn held your hand, instantly breaking the focus. Relief hit you and you cleared your throat. "My apologies. My visions can... Bombard me. Sometimes." You said softly. "it's alright your high—" "Please don't use formalities with me. I'm not above any of you. You are all my equals." You halted Sam. Pippin smiled and he nodded. "You seem like you'd make a good ruler." Pippin said. Boromir rose a brow to this comment. "I agree." Arwen said. "You do?" You asked. "We all believe this." Elladan said. "Why?" Boromir asked. "Our sister has always put our people over herself. She's also a brilliant strategist." Elrohir said. You smirked. "You say that because you're the one who trained me." You laughed. He smiled but shook his head. "You're also a good fighter." Elladan said. "Again. You two trained me." You said. "You lack a lot of the etiquette." Arwen muttered making you sigh. "Maybe if your courses weren't so annoying I might've made it a point to listen!" You said gritting your teeth. "I would say she handled herself well at the meeting." Boromir said. "See! Royalty thinks that I did fine!" You said. "I don't care what anyone else thinks, you still haven't even officially passed the dinner etiquette course!" Arwen sighed.

"Who on this earthly plain needs six different forks!?" You asked. Aragorn snorted and Arwen groaned. "It is the proper thing to know!" She said.  "It is a pointless thing to know." You huffed. She sighed. "She is, outside of etiquette, a woman who is very skilled and intelligent." Arwen finally said. You looked over at her, raising a brow. "Thank you." you said. "Course, she also has made a habit of falling out of trees." Arwen added. "HEY!"

Everyone soon retired to their rooms. Boromir stood on his balcony looking at the valley. He couldn't help but feel out of place next to you and Aragorn. Yes, you technically were his equal. But with the way Isildur's heir looked at you, the way everyone spoke of visions of the future, seeing you on a throne... Boromir knew in his heart that you were destined to be queen of Gondor. He knew that Aragorn would be king one day. One question lingered in his mind, echoing its anxious call.

The question was: were you two going to prove that you were ready for this?

[abeautifuldayfortea]

Autumn Picnic

Summary: Two hobbits enjoy simple autumn morning in the woods, takes place before Frodo’s 33rd birthday and the events of The Lord of the Rings. Requested by @amessywritersmind. Hope you enjoy! 

Hello!! I came across your masterlist page and saw that you were interested in taking requests for Frodo and I am here to deliver because I love him and hardly anyone writes for him. Anyways! What about something sweet where the reader and frodo go out to the woods to read and relax and the reader draws all this wildlife to her and Frodo just watches her interact with them because it’s adorable and then he realize he loves her and maybe he confesses? Something cute and sweet and naturey!! You can obviously do with it what you will!! Thank you in advance 💛

A/N: Fluff >_<

Words: 1117

Arm in arm, the two cloaked figures walked beneath the high red gold leaves of slender birches. The rising frost from whispered conversation captured in thin autumnal sun. Despite the stillness of the wood, the sound of distant birdsong and the scuttling of small creatures beneath the thick carpet of golden leaves assured them that they were not alone.

“I think that’s quite far enough now, don’t you?” Frodo huffed breathlessly. “We’ve been walking for far too long than can be good for a hobbit my size,” he patted his growing belly fondly.

They snorted. “It’ll do you some good, Mr Baggins, or you’ll be so portly you shall have to challenge Mr Fredegar Bolger for his namesake!”

But despite their chiding, they made to stop at near the rocky tumble of what had once been – and once again would be - a rapid flowing stream, hurtling itself upon the pebbles down south. Come summertime, Frodo thought suddenly wistful as he recalled Bilbo’s legends. Now the leaves are clogging up its flow, but what a beautiful sound it must make when its free to run. Perhaps we would hear the voice of Ulmo who lives in all waters. But before he had the chance to say so to his companion, his stomach growled, preposterously loud, mind you, sending ripples through the pleasant calmness of a lovely autumn day.

“I daresay you’re sounding a little peckish there,” his friend chortled and without a moment to spare they both unpacked their picnic provender. And so they took their elevensies perched upon a small knoll in the woods, wrapped in a comfortable silence as they grazed upon dried fruits, nuts and the treat of hard cheese to warm them in the chill air.

Before long, seeing that the hobbits had not moved from their rock, a rather bold and curious hare cautiously drew itself near, drinking from the trickling waters by their feet. A surprising visit. But Frodo found his eyes drawn ever toward the young hobbit beside him as the corners of their mouth turned up slightly and generously, they laid down the remainder of their packed meal for the forest animal, moving slowly and graciously as to not frighten it away before stealthily taking out a small leatherbound book and pencil. The hare’s ears, stood tall at attention, as it lumbered toward their offering turning this way and that, lightly vibrating with its shallow breaths. And sensing little ill intent from them, began to eat.

Frodo found himself lulled by the sounds around him and sitting there in quiet company with both his palms flat upon the rough rock and the papery feel of leaves beneath his feet, he felt complete and whole again as he had not felt since Drogo and Primula had been lost to the Brandywine. The sniffling of the hare, the rustle of the meagre leaves still lingering upon the trees, the hum of insects. The blunt scratching of the pencil against the paper. Yes, it was a moment of peace that he wanted to inhabit forever. But just as it had come upon a daydream, it was lost again.

The hare started suddenly, ears pricked and bolted away into the richness of bare forest. In the distance, the two spotted a young stoat rooting through the foliage, and behind the pale bars of the trees...

A bated breath hung. The click of a branch. The stoat looked up, nose sniffling the air with ferocity. The lightning flash of red against red, the skidding of four dirty paws upon the forest floor. The chase had begun. For a moment there was no sound but the intense rustling foliage. The stoat was quicker, its claws desperately scrambled for purchase upon bark as it clambered ever higher up the tree to its thin branches, swaying precariously in the wind where no fox could reach.

The chase was over. Sneezing disgracefully over its missed luncheon, the fox spotted the hobbits, half sitting, half crouching, from between the pale spires of the birches. ‘Hobbits? Rare in these parts at this time of year…’, it seemed to be saying. Frodo nearly sputtered out of indignance as he saw the sly look it shot them before slinking away, prizeless, into the hunger of the deep autumn.

His companion hummed, “D’you suppose the world outside, the Shire I mean, is really that dangerous?”

“Well, I suppose there would be wolves, though that never stopped Uncle Bilbo from going on his adventure.”

“Maybe they’re the kin of the White Wolves from the Fell Winter all those years ago. I heard they’re mercilessly ravenous, tall as a man and stout as dwarves. I’m glad they aren’t around anymore. I bet they’d run us right back into our cosy little smials and keep us there until we starve! If they haven’t caught us by then that is.” They shivered and Frodo felt the urge to wrap his arm around them.

“Nonsense, dear! That would be a very grim end to our hopes of adventure! I’m glad to be a hobbit and not a stoat with a fox on my tail.”

“Maybe we are stoats, just living in a land without foxes to eat us.”

“If you could, would you leave?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I would like to think that I would, but there are other considerations too that are less easily predicted” they whispered. “In other words, depends on who’s asking and when” they finished playfully, fidgeting the charcoal pencil lightly between stained fingers.

A warmth bloomed within him and he guessed at the hidden meaning of those words. Frodo turned to meet their gaze, and in their eyes he saw reflected in them a hopeful future, one of many winding endlessly as roads do to an end he could not see. Family. And it was love, he was sure. It was a road that he only had to reach out and walk upon. His mouth dried.

“I’m asking. Would you walk with me?”

Silence. The tension was thick, and he feared for a moment the rejection, that he had taken the great leap only to never find purchase on solid ground. He wished then, that he had never said anything at all because he would rather hold his heart close and unfulfilled than be humiliated. His gaze lowered and he found his eyes tracing the rough lines of the sketch in the book upon their lap, curving and leaping into the very vision of a certain bold hare.

But he was reassured by a warm hand on his as his companion nestled closer into his side, closing the distance between them. He could hear the smile in their voice.

“I think I would.”