#pre fellowship of the ring

[sonofarathorns]

i know it’s not canon but i watched the hunt for gollum on youtube because i was aching for more lotr content, here are my thoughts!

• good casting choices for aragorn and gandalf, extras and prancing pony/bar atmosphere is also good, solid acting

• interesting concept of aragorn receiving tips from another ranger, i think that’s totally something that could’ve happened

• excellent makeup/prosthetics on the orcs!

• i felt like i was watching fanfiction come to life. i love fanmade content <3

• i liked it a lot! it was short, but it didn’t need to be any longer to get the point across.

i just really enjoy aragorn, and especially aragorn as strider so i love anything that fills in the gaps in the movies where we don’t see him, and pre- or post- events of lotr. feel free to direct me to any fanfic regarding him at any time, i will be your friend forever

• i will be watching born of hope next but i’m also really absorbed in reading the fellowship for the first time so we’ll see when i get around to that!

[sonxofxgondor]

@kissofthemuses asked: you say that like it's a bad thing.

The Most Cliche Lines of Dialogue \\ Kahlan Amnell

Wielder of steel sword better than any man in the army, delicate features the replacement to typical facial hairs and grime-ridden brow, the eyes of blue that looked back onto him were surprising. Boromir rendered speechless - the drop of his mouth low and ugly - far beyond the expected appearance of an elder son trained best, the captain of many and the leader of hundreds. Shocked all the way down to the ivory of his bones, those unbroken or disturbed by the obligations of his birth, Boromir changed his startled expression for something more amicable. Good natured, familiar, receptive to the circumstances that had routed him, tipped the scale onto the opposing end of the confrontation. Grip on the handle loosened, whole blade returned to its sheath, the farming homestead restored to a place of comforts, crops planted all in their rows, sprouts surrounded by brown dirt and the evidence of stronger natures.

A shy smile graced onto his lips, Boromir brushed about his own hair, ducked his chin to his chest and tried, for a moment, to advert his gaze. Boots moving the small clumps of earth by the tip; until they turned to dust, floated into the breeze and moved beyond the farm, the home that it had known.

"Oh! Never, Miss! Please, do not take my words as so. I didn't intend to insult you nor your family home. You see, you merely surprised me."

Boromir explained, cheeks more colored than not. "In my time as Captain, I have not had the pleasure to meet a woman of the sword. It is not a bad thing, never! I have just... the men of our army, the army of Gondor, it is so full of, well, men. Women do not take the call as they do, not like that of our neighbors in Rohan. I meant no insult, truly I didn't. I would be honored to fight alongside you, Miss, if given the chance! Your handle on the weapon - not even my most trained of men could compare! My, however did you learn the art of the sword?"

"Though, I do suppose I deserve to be as shocked as I was, don't I? It was I who came onto your homestead in the first place, prancing around as if I owned and tended to it. My apologies, Miss. I forget myself sometimes. My father, Denethor, he has asked that I speak with all of those who live along our land's boarders. Being so distant from the City, he feared that you were within danger's path. There is no telling what the forces of Mordor would seek - and he, just as much as I, want to ensure that every one of our people is safe. I am Boromir, the steward's eldest, and Captain-General of the Guard."

"If I may, Miss, may I know of you? Besides my unannounced intrusion onto your farm, have you and yours been well? Are you safe? Do you need of anything or have you gone without? If not just to prove how sorry I am for my past behaviors, I do intend to provide for what you may have lost. Perhaps you are no official member to the army, but, Miss, I know you understand the losses our people, our lands, have been dealt. It has not been easy, and anything that our steward may do for you, what I could do for you, would be done without complaint, freely and with thanks. We'd have so little hope without the efforts of you and yours, truly."

[medievalandfantasymelee]

Hey, you said that the whole fellowship's been submitted but I only see Aragorn, Legolas, Pippen, and Sam on the list?

That list is from before the whole fellowship was submitted.

[torchwood-99]

Do you have any Faramir and Eowyn headcanons? 🙏:).

Oooh boy do I have headcanons!!!

Right, pre-war, I headcanon Theodred and Boromir having an unofficial agreement to marry Eowyn and Faramir to each other. Both of them want to re-ignite the alliance between Gondor and Rohan. Boromir wants to see his little brother happily wed, and Theodred wants to see Eowyn away from Grima, for her own sake and to circumvent any plans Grima has for her. Theodred and Boromir’s mutual affection also makes them want to unite their houses in some way.

Theodred nearly manages to get Eowyn to Minas Tirith. Eowyn dislikes nursing, but does have an interest in certain aspects of healing, such as herblore and surgery (it’s tending to the emotional needs of the patient she does not, nor ever will, care for), and as it becomes clear that her uncle will not let her join an Eored, she agrees to Theodred’s suggestion that she come to Minas Tirith to study to be a healer. She will do so under a fake name, for safety’s sake, which is especially exciting for her.

She thinks it will be an adventure, a chance to live in the “big city”, with other young people, without the restraints of royalty keeping her in check. It will also mean she will have a role and a purpose once Theodred has married and she is supplanted as Lady of Meduseld. 

Theoden grudgingly agrees to it, but just as Eowyn is making plans to depart, Grima convinces Theoden that it will be foolish to send Eowyn into Gondor’s hands, as it will just mean giving them a hostage. He also exacerbates Theoden’s illness, forcing Eowyn to stay back and nurse him.

Had Eowyn gone to Minas Tirith, Boromir and Theodred’s plan would have been for Eowyn to meet Faramir there, and arrange a courtship between them.

I headcanon Eowyn, Faramir and Merry being quite a trio during their stay at the Houses of Healing, and that Faramir and Merry into Eowyn’s bedroom at night, with food and cards and Merry’s pipe, and they hide under the bed when the healers do their rounds. Merry and Faramir have an unspoken alliance to make Eowyn smile and give her things to laugh about. 

The Fellowship is delighted about Faramir and Eowny’s engagement. Gandalf has known Faramir and Eowyn since childhood, and is therefore delighted at them finding happiness in each other, so soon after despair nearly destroyed them. Aragorn is glad that Eowyn has found happiness, and having older brotherly feelings for her, is genuinely pleased to welcome her to his court. He ends up taking a hand in her healing studies, and teaches her himself. The two grow very close in a teacher & pupil way. Meanwhile, Arwen and Faramir grow very close, Arwen indulging Faramir in his love of history and learning. They also share a love of poetry and music. 

The rest of the Fellowship is delighted that Boromir’s younger brother (whom Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli take an older brotherly interest in, in place of Boromir) has found happiness. Legolas and Faramir become very close, while Gimli becomes very fond of Eowyn. Sam and Frodo know the pair the least, but they respect Faramir very much after he let them go with the Ring, and Frodo recognises in Eowyn some of his own depression, which Eowyn recognises in turn. They spend very little time together, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two, as to what it is like to deal with mental health difficulties. Frodo (and Sam by extension) also appreciate Eowyn being the one to kill the Witch King. Frodo’s injuries from the Witch King actually ache a little less in Eowyn’s presence. 

Merry and Pippin most of all are naturally thrilled, and on his arrival to the Field of Cormallen, Merry updates Pippin about Eowyn and Faramir’s courtship, and the two are on tenterhooks waiting for an update between the pair.

Eomer is less pleased when he finds out Eowyn is engaged. She is the last member of his family, and last time he saw her, she was suicidal and charging into battle, looking for death, whilst also nursing a broken heart. Aside from a desire to keep her close by, he (understandably) fears that Eowyn is entering into this marriage for the wrong reason.

He actually refuses Eowyn’s request to officially announce their betrothal, although he doesn’t forbid them from entering into a personal agreement. He just doesn’t want Eowyn to change her mind, and find herself stuck in an engagement that it is politically awkward to get out of.

Eomer finally makes the engagement official with the troth plighting at the funeral, which is a surprise for Eowyn, his way of showing his regards for her.

Faramir stays a while in Rohan, where his love for Eowyn only grows as he sees what a capable ruler and leader she is. He decides that a large part of Ithilien’s governance will be in Eowyn’s hands, as he will have much preoccupied with the Stewardship of Gondor. When they marry, he invests Eowyn with official powers, so that she can rule Ithilien with her own authority, not just his.

Faramir, Eomer and Eowyn grow very close as a trio during Faramir’s stay, and Eomer ends up missing them both greatly when they go. 

While Eowyn’s day to day business is that of healer, she still trains with her sword and assists Faramir in clearing out orcs and guarding Ithilien. However, when she wishes to accompany Faramir and Aragorn to the razing of Minas Morgul, she is denied, on the grounds that it could be potentially diplomatically catastrophic if Eowyn came to serious harm under Aragorn’s orders.

The Razing of Minas Morgul starts off terribly, with the soldiers much terrorised by the evils that lurk there. Eowyn hears about the sufferings of the troops, the low morale and the work that never seems to progress, when some soldiers are sent to Emyn Arnen with requests for supplies. Eowyn dresses as a man once more and sneaks along with the supplies. 

Rumours start spreading about her presence, and the morale instantly lifts, partially due to the presence of the Witch King Slayer having an impact on the lingering magic, but also because Eowyn’s story itself gives heart to the soldiers, which allows them to share their renewed hope with other soldiers, which spreads throughout the army. 

Faramir hears the rumours before Aragorn, but stays quiet about them. In the end, Aragorn has to summon Eowyn, as the rumours are too wide spread for him to turn a blind eye to. He has to pretend to disapprove, while being secretly pleased. Faramir is just pleased. 

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 1

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader/soft oc

Words: 3.1k

Summary: You have been best friends with Merry (and Pippin) for several years. You see each other on almost a daily basis and have been referred to as the unseperable trio, as you do almost everything together, and have all been there for each other, through thick and thin. Slowly, you start to feel something shift. Something feels different when you look at Merry.

SLOOOOOOOW burning romance, pre - the Fellowship of the Ring.

Possible TW's: panic attack, anxiety, mentions of drowning and death, dead parents

English is not my first language, and this is the first fanfiction I have written since I was 10 years old, so I apologize for any errors or confusion. 😭 Treat me gently, I am sensitive to critisism lol

-

The sun glistened on the leaves, making the raindrops that fell on them the night before look like diamonds. The grass was damp under your feet, and the slight breeze felt comfortable on your skin. The sounds of the Shire were as usual: lots of Hobbits doing their regular chores, children running around and a few groans here and there, when the sleepiest of all were forced to get up early. Your gaze followed a beautiful bird flying from one tree to another. The bird was a beautiful one, with a bright-red chest and a grey back, the feathers on the wings being different shades of grey and black. It's melodic singing as it sat on the old willow branch, is always a reminder for the Shire folk that spring has arrived. There was a fresh lavender smell in the air, and as you stopped on your feet to enjoy it, you noticed another familiar scent.

Your gaze moved to a pastry shop window, and as you started walking towards it, you could see your best friends enjoying a couple of scones, filled with strawberry jam. Your lips curved into a smile as you opened the wooden door, and the bell above it rang to announce your arrival.

The friendly Hobbit lady behind the dusty, old counter greeted you gleefully. Her hair was grey, curls all the way down to her shoulders, and the smile lines nearing the corners of her eyes revealed just how happy of a personality she must have. But your eyes weren't focused on her, but to the two young Hobbits now noticing your entry. Pippin's green eyes sparkled with joy as he noticed you enter the room. More happy than Pippin to see you, was Merry. You had been best friends with the two for a number of years, and almost every week, the three of you would sit at the bakery, planning some mischevous pranks and talking about any new happenings around the Shire.

"We were wondering where you were!" Pippin exclaimed, mouth full of the delicious scone, and some red jam from it that had decided to settle on his lips. Amused at the sight, you smirked but still decided to not say anything, as usual. It would be funnier to see how long it would take him to notice his messy appearence.

"Sorry, I had other things in mind," you said in serious tone, pulling up a chair and sitting between the two. The round table was full of crumbs and there were two empty plates. You looked at the plates and then at your dearest friends, raising one brow as if to question how on earth they could have this ritual without you.

"We got hungry, I'm sorry!" Merry said, wiping his palms on his cream colored cotton shirt.

"How dare you!" you answered with a playfully offended tone. You turned to look at Pippin for an apology, but the young Hobbit just shrugged his shoulders, and kept munching the last piece of scone in his mouth. You shook your head and chuckled slightly, leaning back on your chair.

"What did you mean when you said you had other things in mind?" asked Merry, curiously, now wiping his mouth with a napkin. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms.

"It's been twenty years," you stated, as if Pippin and Merry were supposed to immediately understand the rest of that sentence. The two locked eyes. Their faces could only be described as curious, but utterly confused.

"Twenty years since what?" Merry inquired. His blue eyes looking straight into yours, his gaze making you feel like he was almost concerned.

"Since my parents died," you sighed. Pippin immediately turned to look at Merry, flustered as the two completely forgot about this tragic event in their best friend's life.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Merry apologized, his tone full of shame. "I completely forgot that was today."

"It's quite alright. You couldn't have known," you said with a faint smile. Your head might have told you to act fine, but the sadness behind your eyes revealed your true feelings: how tragically heartbroken you felt at that moment and how twenty years still wasn't enough of healing.

"But we should've remembered!" Merry cried in guilt. Pippin apologized, mouth full of scone, then finally swallowing the last piece. You reassured both of them that they did not offend you in any way, and that you would be fine.

"Is there anything we can do?" Merry asked, like he was in a rush to cheer you up.

"Yes! We could do something fun!" Pippin said cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He slammed his hands on the table, making the empty plates clink against each other. "How about we go for a swim?"

"You know I can't swim, Peregrin!" you cried, arms still crossed, your fingers fidgeting with the soft fabric of the sleeves on your favorite yellow dress.

"Didn't you say you have had practice?" Pippin asked, puzzled.

"It doesn't mean I can."

"Well, we could always just go just hang around the water, you know?" Merry suggested, trying to not make your mood any worse. "We used to do that all the time when we were just little innocent Hobbits." You smiled at him with gratitude. Merry's lips curved upwards and his eyes had a glimmer of pride in them.

"That actually sounds great," you finally responded to him. "When should we go?"

"How about immediately?" said the young Took suddenly, and before either of you could answer, he was already up from his chair, quickly whisking away the empty plates from the table.

"I guess we're going?" you chuckled. You and Merry got up and before you could make a leave, he put his palm on your shoulder. His warm touch gave you a sense of comfort.

"But seriously, are you okay?" he asked, looking at you from under his brows, his eyes full of concern. You nodded and gave him a soft smile.

On your way to the river, the sun was rising higher in the sky, warming your skin. The spring breeze had settled, the lavender scent no longer lingering in the air.

"I can't believe you still can't swim," Pippin said, shaking his head. You groaned in frustration as a response. "You should know at this point!" he teased, skipping ahead of you and Merry. You shook your head. Still fidgeting with the fabric of your dress, Merry took notice of it.

"Can I help your anxiety in any way?" Merry said suddenly.

"How do you know I'm feeling anxious?" you asked, looking at him full of confusion. Merry smiled softly and compassionately.

"You always fidget something with your fingers when you feel anxious," he responded and gestured towards your sleeve, where the tips of your fingers now suddenly had stopped rubbing the dress, like they almost felt shy for being caught. You blinked slowly, moving your eyes to look at your delicate hands.

"I never realized that it was noticeable," you mumbled, slightly embarrassed. You were aware of it, but did not know it was a telltale sign of anxiety for others.

"We've been friends for years," he said, as the three of you kept walking towards the water on a gravel path, Pippin just slightly ahead of the two of you. "Of course I notice things like this."

You smiled at him, impressed by this small detail that he had noticed. Pippin was still slightly ahead of you two, every now and then stopping to gesture for you two to move faster. "That's kind of endearing, actually," you smiled and Merry let out a small snicker, turning his face to the ground.

"You actually have a lot of tells for how you're feeling," he said in a confident and knowing tone. This made you plead for him to tell you what he had noticed. "I'm not going to tell you what they are!" Merry smirked visibly amused. "Where's the fun in that?"

"If I have a tell, I will have you tell me what it is!" you said in a commanding tone, horrified of this revelation.

"I think not!" Merry exclaimed, his tone mischevous. "You just have to wonder about it for the rest of your life!" he laughed, and then in a mocking, high pitched voice, imitating you, he said: "Oh no! How did Meriadoc know I was exceptionally happy today? How did he notice I was nervous? Whatever will I do? How will I ever figure it out?"

"You jerk!" you laughed, elbowing his side gently, making him stumble a little to the left. It made him want to continue teasing you, still mocking you.

"Oh, how will I ever know? Merry is such a master at reading people!" he continued, making you crack up a little. You gave him a gentle push. You then suddenly bumped into Pippin, who was standing there, waiting for you.

"What took you so long?" Pippin asked.

"You were practically running!" Merry responded, still a wide smile on his face from teasing you. He gestured towards you and smirked. "And as I can tell from her expression, her old age has caught up to her, and her body gave up, forcing us both to slow down."

"Excuse me?" you said as your jaw dropped. "I am younger than you, Merry! I will have you know, if someone has any problems with their old age, it's you, Mister Brandybuck! Now, you old prune, what are my tells? Tell me!"

"My dear friend," Merry said, putting his hands on your shoulder. "I absolutely will not tell you."

"What are you two on about?" Pippin asked confused. Merry just chuckled, and gestured you both to follow him to a shallow part of the river, so you could safely sit with them without going too deep. You scrunched your nose at Merry, and walked behind him and Pippin to the water.

You had sat on a large rock, smoothed down by the flowing water, making it sparkle under the rays of sunshine. Every now and then some water ran over the rock, drenching your dress from the parts that were laid on the almost black stone. Twenty minutes had passed, and Merry gestured you to come closer to the slightly deeper water. You shook your head, fidgeting the sleeve of your dress anxiously. The water had finally washed away the jam from Pippin's lips as he kept plunging into the water, diving for what seemed like a forever. Pippin's head ascended from the cool water and he shook his head like a wet dog, trying to dry his curls.

"Come on, it's just waist deep!" Pippin tried to pursuade you. You just shook your head again. Pippin locked his eyes with Merry's. They both nodded in unison, turning to look at you again. "I bet you a small pouch of Southern Star that you don't have the courage."

Your ears perked up at the mention of pipe-weed. It was a delicious offer, but just the thought of going in any deeper made your heart pound faster. Pippin and Merry also knew just how to press your buttons right; they knew how competetive you were. "How much are we talking?" you inquired, your ears doing one small wiggle as your body started to show signs of peaked interest. This made Pippin and Merry chuckle.

"Does it matter? You don't have the guts!" Merry cried with a wide grin on his face. This made your fingers stop fidgeting the dress, and instead your fingertips squeezed the fabric tightly. You stood up, careful not to slip on the wet rock, and tipped your toes in the water, moving them on the surface lightly. You gave a challenging look to both mischevous hobbits, and hopped in the water, ankle deep. You took one deep breath, inhaling the warm air to help calm you down. One step after another, you slowly waded towards Merry and Pippin, who looked rather amused and impressed. The water rose as you waded in deeper and as the cold water touched your hips, you froze still.

It felt like the world stopped for a moment, and the surrounding noises of the river flowing suddenly sounded like an ominous threat coming closer and closer, about to swallow you whole. The bottom of the river was muddy and it felt like you would slowly sink, inch by inch, until you would be under water, unable to escape. The water felt like it tried to push you down, make you stumble and fall. It would laugh at your struggles to try and stay on the surface, making you regret ever taking even one step towards your best friends. How foolish of you to take up on a challenge, knowing the water was your enemy, who would smother you the first chance it got.

Suddenly you felt Merry's hand on your arm, shaking you softly. All you could hear was mumbling. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurry, as you tried with all of your strength to not collapse from fear of facing the same destiny as your parents. Your feet lifted from the mud as Merry and Pippin lifted you by your armpits and waist to get you off to the dry land immediately, taking notice of your looming anxiety and inability to move even an inch.

What felt like forever, you soon got back to dry land and your hands gripped to the grass like it was the only thing that would keep you from falling into the flowing river. Your vision still blurry, you could distinguish the familiar voices of Merry and Pippin, but not one word was coherent. The grass felt safe and warm, pieces of dirt clinging to your wet palms and feet. You were starting to shake a little, still not able to move.

Soon you felt a warm palm on your cheek, turning your gaze to the direction of it's owner. Merry caught your attention enough to lock your eyes on his. His blue eyes felt comforting as they looked at you with compassion and care. You could see his lips moving, but not one word made sense to you. He gently brushed your cheek with his thumb, looking guilty from pressuring you.

"You're okay," you could finally decipher some of his words. Your brain felt fuzzy, and your lips were quivering with fear and anxiety. "You're safe, just breathe."

You took a deep breath, slow and steady, trying to push away the panic attack that was taking over your body. You followed Merry's guidance as much as you could make sense of it, slowly starting to feel more air in your lungs. The grass started to feel like grass again, instead of an anchor you had to hold on to, unless you wanted to drown. You felt Pippin's palm gently rubbing your back, as Merry was still caressing your cheek, guiding your every breath. You could slowly focus more, but you kept your gaze on his blue eyes, scared that if you turned your face away, the water would somehow jump on you and try to pull you back. It took you several minutes, but finally the two managed to calm you down. Your body still trembling lightly, you took one more deep breath.

"Well that was embarrassing," you jested, trying to lighten the mood immediately. Merry chuckled with relief and shook his head, lowering his hand to your shoulder from your face. Pippin didn't laugh, but instead made his way in front of your face next to Merry.

"Are you okay?" he asked nervously, clearly feeling some guilt for the second time that day. You nodded, looking at him reassuringly. Pippin's lips curled into a small smile. "Good, I thought you might feel embarrassed." You laughed loudly, voice slightly shaky.

They both got up on their feet, clothes drenched and every curl on their head dripping with water. You slowly got up, taking some support from the two hobbits and straightening your back. After a small discussion, you all agreed it was time to go home and calm down a little. Pippin did promise you that he would still give you some pipe-weed as a 'consolation prize.'

You made your way home alone for most of the journey, as Merry headed towards his home in Buckland and Pippin made his way to, in his own words, 'somewhere secret.'

The green round door of Bag End was there waiting for you, immediately providing you comfort at the sight. You entered your home and called your brother by his name. He was not your brother by blood, but being adopted to the same household and growing up together most of your lives made him as much of a brother as someone who was a blood relative would.

"Hello?" you shouted, the hallway echoing, seeming empty. You took just a few steps before Frodo's head popped up from behind a wall. He gave you a soft smile and let you know there was tea at the ready in the kitchen. Frodo had made it for himself, but so much of it was left that he decided to just let it sit there, knowing how much you liked his chamomille tea.

You made your way into the kitchen and poured some still warm tea into a small cup you inherited from your parents. It was decorated with yellow flowers and had been hand painted by your great-grandmother. You stirred it calmly, looking out of the round window, admiring the green grass and the butterflies flying around, enjoying the spring as much as any being would. The small silver spoon your uncle Bilbo had given you as a birthday present (that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins kept trying to steal) was softly moving in circles, creating music-like sounds when it hit the porcelain on the edges. Your dress had mostly dried up on your way home, but it was still slightly moist, making you do a small squirm as the slightly wet fabric of it kept clinging to your thigh.

With the tea in your hand, you started making your way to your room, but something stopped you in your tracks. As you passed a small round mirror, you noticed something behind your ear that was not supposed to be there. A small daisy was decorating your frame on the left side of your face. You touched the soft flower lightly. Merry had put it there while calming you down. A small chuckle escaped your throat. He really knew how to cheer you up, even if it took some time to notice the gesture.

Next chapter

[littlechivalry]

Watching the latest episode of Smartypants on DROPOUT and seeing Tao's presentation on charcuterie made me come to the startling realization that Steve, who aspires to be a good host and likes to throw parties, doesn't actually care about fancy food? Harrington-Munson meals are homestyle, delicious, and plenty of it. Steve's charcuterie board is cheddar, salami, crackers, pickles, and mustard. Maybe some fruit. No fussy arrangement, no edible flowers. Just food, on a big platter, grab what you like and have fun.

Eddie on the other hand... Eddie loves a theme. The board he makes when Hellfire pre-games for the midnight premiere of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring is the stuff of legends. Dustin begs him to remake the mini lembas bread for The Two Towers and The Return of the King but Eddie refuses, he never repeats a charcuterie. The cheeses are curated for weeks, Eddie learns how to make and cure his own sausage, they get a farm co-op box specifically so Eddie can get access to organic heritage produce he can't find in stores.

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

Erestor in The Return of Shadow

Today on even more obscure Erestor lore, here are all the Erestor mentions in The Return of Shadow.

The Return of Shadow is the sixth book in the 12-volume The History of Middle-earth series. It shows the early versions of what would later be The Fellowship of the Ring and as such, is the only other book apart from The Fellowship of the Ring and The Return of the King when Erestor, Elrond's chief counsellor, is mentioned.

In the first version of the text, Erestor was already conceived as a counsellor to Elrond. He was not yet chief, but he was still an Elf, although he was in the company of two Half-elves.

Christopher Tolkien lists early characters conceived for this chapter. Erestor pre-dates both Gimli and Legolas, and seems to have always been a part of the plans for the Council scene.

In a later but still pre-FotR version, Tolkien considered the idea of Erestor being Half-elven, exchanging him with the two Half-elves from the earlier excerpt.

There is a footnote from Christopher Tolkien however that said that even as an Elf instead of Man (Half-elf) in the first version, Erestor was nonetheless implied to be a kinsman of Elrond.

This detail about him being Elrond's kinsman is no longer in the published version of The Fellowship of the Ring. All the same, Erestor being as close as kin to Elrond remains to be a popular fanon, and this at least seems to be a sentiment early versions of the text share.

We now move to an early manuscript of the critical dialogues in 'The Council of Elrond' (early title being, 'In the House of Elrond'):

This exchange is largely the same as what we see in the published version in FotR. Erestor suggests to seek the aid of Tom Bombadil, who seems immune to the power of the Ring. Gandalf advises against this, and so Erestor proceeds to give alternatives:

In this version, the ideas of sending the Ring west to Valinor or destroying it also came from Erestor. In the published version, these lines were given to Glorfindel, although interestingly, the footnotes imply that Glorfindel has already been considered before, as well as Elrond.

As we will later see in the published version, Tolkien eventually distributes Erestor's lines among the other members of the Council. Glorfindel suggests sending the Ring West, but Elrond is the one who explains why this cannot work. Glorfindel then suggests destroying the Ring or casting it into the Sea. Lastly, the lines, "The journey to the Havens would be fraught with peril..." were later given to Galdor, who was then changed to be an Elf of the Havens instead of Mirkwood.

There is another interesting footnote in this section around Erestor's conversations with Gandalf. It's a nice detail, especially considering that the earlier dialogues and exchange of ideas were mostly between Erestor and Gandalf, showing familiarity between the two:

After this, the text progresses to a long dialogue involving Boromir and Glóin, which even touched on the history and the conception of the other Rings of Power. Similar to the published FotR, Erestor returns the discussion to the task at hand:

What's interesting for me in these early versions of the text is how Tolkien seems to have had a good idea of what purpose Erestor needs to serve in the text. The lines in the published version are more evenly distributed among Erestor, Glorfindel, Galdor, Elrond and Gandalf, but in the early version, Erestor is practically the outline on matters surrounding the question, "What do we do with Sauron's Ring?" and thus also moves the discussion along to a decision.

[orgxnas]

The Fellowship and their favorite Classic Frat Party Bangers™️

Frodo

No Hands by Waka Flocka Flame

This is pre-Ring Frodo, ofc

Y’all remember how he was dancing at Bilbo’s birthday? Yeah dude def likes to get down

I just feel like after he’s had a few drinks in him and this song comes on, he grabs Sam and loudly says “OMG ITS MY SOONNGGGG!”

Can sing the whole song with no breaks (just like me fr)

Sam

Everything by Pitbull

Sam actually doesn’t really like the music they play at parties. He thinks some of the lyrics are crass

HOWEVER

One time this song came on at a party that Rosie was at and she danced with him the entire song. He has not stopped thinking about it since

The next day he went straight to Merry (the Pitbull expert) and asked him what the song was called and then he immediately went and bought the song and listened to it everyday for the next two weeks

Now he requests it every time him and Frodo go out just in case Rosie is there

Pippin

Shots by Lil Jon

He is the Snooki of the Shire let’s be real here

Loves lil Jon. Thinks he’s a lyrical genius

He’s always up on the damn tables and the bar

“IF YOU AINT GETTIN DRUNK GET THE FUCK OUT THE CLUB” and Pippin took that personally

Spills his drinks on everyone. Gets into a verbal altercation bc of said spillage. Merry comes in to back him up. Now Frodo and Sam have to break up a fight

Merry

Hotel Room Service by Pitbull

Pitbulls no. 1 fan

Right up there on the tables with Pippin

Gets sooo hype for “WE AT THE HOTEL MOTEL HOLIDAY INN!”

Also spills his drinks but not as much

Has in fact been decked in the face for asking a girl if he could take her back to the hotel room for some *service*

Aragorn

Pepas by Farruko

This man has never gone to a party of his own accord. He has only gone just to make sure that Merry and Pippin don’t die

BUT once he’s got a few drinks in his system and this song comes on, he’s ready to let lose

I feel like he would love the Spanish songs (he can speak fluently I just know it)

Does his own lil dancy dance while Merry and Pippin cheer him on

Legolas records it for when he’s sober and they can all laugh about it

Legolas

Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira OR Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado

Oh he defff likes the “girlier” songs

Once he has enough in his system to get that lil tingle in his hands, bro is right in the middle of whatever dance circle formed around him

That man LOVES to flip his hair all over the place like he’s really got his hands in his hair feeling the music and everything

Learned all this from his father I just know that Thranduil made sure his son was properly educated

Gimli gives him shit for the entire night

Gimli

Get Low by Lil Jon

Oh bro definitely likes to get low

His drunk self gets SO HYPE when this song comes on

Climbs right up on the table with Merry and Pippin (falls off soon after)

The rest of the fellowship watches in absolute terror as he tears up the dance floor

Gandalf

Danza Kuduro by Don Omar

Will he dance? Who knows

But one thing for certain is that his heart is filled with so much joy watching the Hobbits go absolutely crazy for this song

He thinks it’s so fun and endearing watching them dancing and enjoying the night

It’s one of those simple things that he loves so much. Watching a group of friends enjoying each others company and celebrating their friendship with music and dancing

You know what he WILL dance let him get in the middle of that silly little circle

Boromir

DJ Got Us Fallin In Love by Usher

He may be daddy’s favorite, but being daddy’s favorite is stressful

At the end of the week, he just wants to cut lose and get drunk

And drunk he gets

He just likes to feel the musiiicccc

Has never gone home alone LMAO

[segretecose]

Ok, Taskmaster UK tier list. Go

excluding: pre-Series 7 (because it has been ages since i've seen them and i honestly do not remember); Champion of Champions; New Years Treat

(*) indicates the series that i have watched multiple times and/or more recently.

S16*: possibly dictated by recency bias but i genuinely enjoyed this series more than any other i think. it usually takes me a couple of episodes to warm up to the cast but i was immediately sucked in this time. not a single normal person in sight and Sam Campbell is a special brand of insane that i resonate with on a worryingly deep and personal level.

S7*: watching James Acaster get genuinely angry over futile things is one of life's greatest pleasures if you ask me and my god does this series deliver on that front. this cast exists somewhere between found family and deranged Lord of the Flies remake in a way that i find irresistible.

S10: nearly ex aequo with S13 but the fact that this was filmed during the pandemic gives it an underlying hysterical quality that makes it take the cake. the outtakes (especially the "Little Trumper" part) are possibly the hardest i've ever laughed while watching this programme.

S13*: the way the cast interact in the studio really gives this series some extra oomph. i can't quite put my finger on it but the vibe is sort of like Fellowship of the Ring except they all die the second they set foot outside of Rivendell. besides, Greg Davies being genuinely scared of Bridget Christie will never not be hilarious to me.

S11*: very close to S10 and S13 but i have a primal dislike of Lee Mack that means i personally can't fully enjoy these episodes. there are still some excellently cursed moments (e.g., "absolute casserole") to be enjoyed. i had a weird crush on Mike Wozniak for months after watching this. it was humiliating but it bumps it up in the ranking.

S9: i've only watched it once back when it aired and maybe it would rank higher if i did watch it again. Ed Gamble's actual visceral rage at David Baddiel during that one studio task is legendary, i wish we got more of that. unfortunately i can't remember much else.

S14: as deducible from this list one of my favourite Taskmaster tropes is Contestant Who Desperately Wants to Do Well being teamed up and hindered by Inept Contestant(s) and the Dara O'Briain - Fern Brady - John Kearns partnership is a shining example of that. ranks low(er) only because i feel like the tasks themselves weren't terribly memorable.

S12: similarly to S9, i feel like i need to revisit this one to form fair judgment but i don't think i ever really clicked with the cast. i liked the contestants individually but perhaps their interaction was hampered by the social distancing measures. i remember it was enjoyable but that's about it.

S8: another example of one cast member souring the overall experience for me. i didn't love Lou Sanders in this and i just can't be objective about it. Joe Thomas had some good moments i think.

S15: even though it's the second most recent series i can't remember much from it. nothing against the contestants but unfortunately i think something did not work and the comparison to S16 makes it look even more lacklustre in hindsight.

[strawwritesfic]

Bilbo Baggins x Female!Hobbit!Reader: Save

Summary: The beginning of your own story might be worth writing down someday as well.

Rating/Tags: All (Post-Hobbit; pre-Fellowship of the Ring; The Green Dragon; Drinking; Alcohol; Server!Reader; family problems; inheritance problems; meet cute)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Save

Any Hobbit worth their salt could recite upon command any number of stories about far-off lands and daring adventures. Children might shudder in their beds thinking of shadowy forests filled with creeping spiders; even adults could blanch over news of wolves spotted near Buckland. But that was all such tales were in the end: Distant news and exciting fiction, meant to entertain and never to touch its listeners. Nothing could ever really involve the Shire. The people of Hobbiton were free to continue their vicarious quests–until one day such a quest did involve the Shire.

“I already told you, Otho, I don’t have a mountain of gold hidden away to give to you. I’m certain that if I did, there would be nothing left after I was forced to buy back my home and all my possessions.”

You looked up from your work behind the counter to see one Bilbo Baggins sitting at a table across the room. He had a mug of ale clutched in one hand and a look of polite distaste on his face. 

Upon recognizing his drinking companions, you couldn’t say you blamed him for looking like that. Otho and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins were not your favorite customers when they were minding their own business. Throw in harassing other patrons, and you couldn’t help but shoot them an ugly look of your own behind their backs.

Normally, you would have tried to throw them out. Now that you were in serious competition with your younger brother over the inheritance of the inn, however, you decided it would be better not to make a scene. "A patron is a patron, so long as they’ve got gold to spend," as your father had reminded you since you’d started working at the Green Dragon in your tweens. Apparently your brother had no trouble remembering this, though you suspected his good memory was because he didn’t spend much of his time on the clock doing any work, not because he lacked any hint of your admirable temper.

“[Name], quit lollygagging. Table Eight wanted supper fifteen minutes ago,” your father called over the usual evening hubbub. 

His watchful eye prevented you from eavesdropping further on Bilbo and his guests, so you flashed your haggard father a grin, picked up a waiting tray of food, and dove back into the throng.

The Green Dragon had been owned by your family since it had been built several generations ago. Sometimes you got the feeling your father would have gladly given up five square meals a day to be rid of the responsibility of running the place. Not so you. Working at the inn made you come alive more than any other place in the whole of the Shire. You had been hanging around it since you were old enough to follow your father to work as a youth and working there since you were bold enough to convince him to give you a job. By necessity, you knew every nook and cranny, every regular’s name, and every story ever told by the grand stone fireplace.

Except, that was, for Bilbo’s story. Even knowing that the mere sight of Otho and Lobelia would anger you, you sneaked another peek over at their table as you set the food down on another surrounded by ravenous tweens. Sure enough, the trio was still there. Bilbo’s polite façade appeared to be fading quickly as he listened to the two of them rant.

“[Name],” whined one of the tween boys, “you’re in the way.”

You hastily removed your hand before any of them could mistake it for part of their meal. Your constantly-hungry youth wasn’t so far behind you that you had forgotten what it felt like.

“Make sure to pay before you leave this time. Don’t want me to have to talk to your parents again, do you?” you asked.

None of them replied. 

With a deep breath and a roll of your eyes, you turned away. Before you lay a buzzing dining hall. Hobbits laughed and ate and drank in seemingly every inch of the building. It warmed your heart to see so many happy people enjoying your family’s business. All except for Bilbo, of course, who had dismissed faking politeness entirely and now stared grumpily into the space about his relatives’ heads as they prattled on about whatever it was they had a bone to pick about that night.

Before you could even attempt to interrupt the conversation, your father caught your eye and motioned impatiently at the growing assortment of food and drink waiting to be delivered. You picked your way toward him, progress hindered by the many customers that stopped you to say hello. The conversation at Bilbo’s table had grown quite lively by the time you arrived at the bar to pick up another order.

Truth be told, Bilbo’s fascinating disappearance and reappearance were not the only things about him that kept you looking at him. Neither were his rumored riches; you planned to take over the Dragon and raise your own small fortune, after all. Bilbo had, in fact, always interested you. He had had his own schedule before he’d left the Shire, coming in once a week to drink and listen to the same old stories you did day after day. Always polite, that Bilbo, if admittedly not forcibly friendly like most of the others. You had never had to throw him out for poor behavior, at any rate.

That night was the first night he’d been back to the inn after all his time away. You’d been dying to talk to him since the minute you saw him walk through the door. Between your job and the Sackville-Bagginses, you hadn’t had a chance.

Then an idea occurred to you–a wonderful, terrible, perfect idea. Before any of your fellow workers could guess that you were up to something, you filled your tray with the waiting glasses of ale. Your plan might not have had the best timing, considering the dinner rush and how flustered your father had already become, but he would have to do without you. You were only one Hobbit, and if your father truly believed passing the Green Dragon onto your brother (who was, as usual, suspiciously absent that evening), then what good was your working your fingers to the bone to please customers?

You turned and marched purposely toward the table at which Bilbo, Lobelia, and Otho sat. As you drew nearer, you could understand why Bilbo looked as pained as he did.

“As far as I’m concerned, you forfeited your right to Bag End when you left without saying a word and without electing an heir. The hole is ours,” Otho was saying.

“Is it,” said Bilbo.

Lobelia gave him a very nasty, almost un-hobbotish sneer. “You clearly aren’t right in the head anymore. Dragons? Dwarves? Why don’t you just admit you got into some messy business with that Gandalf fellow and step aside for Otho to be head of the family?”

“Difficult to do when I’m not at all mad, my dear Lobelia. For why should you think I had gold to spare if I never had my grand adventure?”

“You’re a fool,” she said, “a fool and perhaps even a criminal. We could go over your head, Bilbo. Mark my words.”

“Consider them marked. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“We aren’t done here,” Otho growled, getting up to follow Bilbo away from the table.

Oh, yes you are, you thought. 

Just as Otho reached over to pull Bilbo back into his seat, you arrived along with half the dining hall’s drinks. Otho standing up actually provided you with the perfect opportunity. All you had to do was angle your feet just right, and–

Lobelia’s scream told you that you had succeeded. Your staged trip and fall managed to tip all the ale on your tray so that it spilled over the Sackville-Baggginses heads. There they sat, dripping in abject shock, as Bilbo stood staring on in astonishment.

“Oh no!” you squealed dramatically. “Did I do that? I’m ever so sorry. I’m such a klutz!”

With a lurch toward Lobelia, you made to press a towel to her sopping hair. She flinched away before turning the full brunt of her wrath on you.

“You-You-You,” she said. Apparently, your act had rendered her unable to form complete sentences. 

This unforeseen bonus didn’t last long; before you could so much as attempt to offer a fake apology, Otho got in your face: “I’ll have your job for this, girl,” he said, and any desire to apologize, falsely or otherwise, vanished. 

You hooked a thumb over your shoulder toward where you’d last seen your father running around like a chicken with his head cut off. “Boss is that way.”

The two left without more than several glares in your direction. You watched only long enough to see your father shoot you a knowing, aggrieved sort of look when the Sackville-Bagginses approached him. 

Shrugging, you turned away. Well, it was difficult to feel sorry for him. If he really wanted a supper rush without incident, he really ought to have forced your brother to show up for his shifts every once and awhile, especially if you were expected to give up your inheritance without a fight.

All the same, you knew better than to leave a mess behind. You began to pick up the (thankfully unbroken) glasses littering the table and were almost finished by the time Bilbo spoke:

“Thank you.”

You had assumed he had taken the opportunity to escape your inn entirely, actually. His voice surprised you, and even more so that he was standing exactly where you’d left him. 

“You don’t need to thank me for being clumsy,” you answered, then smiled mischievously at his blank expression. “It looked like you could use a rescue. Those two shouldn’t bother you again tonight.”

“Thank you,” he said with more feeling.

“It’s your first time back since your adventure. Wouldn’t want you spooked off forever.”

Much to your confusion, Bilbo hesitated before he replied. His eyes slid toward the door and back to you, and then he took a wide step backward. “Right,” he said. “All the same, I think I had better get going.”

As you looked on, he began to shuffle toward the front door. You realized with a jolt exactly what he thought: Bilbo believed you, too, were after his gold. He didn’t exactly look less nervous when you followed after him either.

“That’s a shame,” you said. “I really was hoping to hear your story.”

That got him to pause. “You…were?”

“Sure. Dwarves and dragons and spiders and elves. Sounds better than half of the stories the rest of them have been telling all week. I'm getting a little tired of the time the creek froze over and let the wolves in, personally. ”

“Mine is a rather exciting tale,” Bilbo confessed, then seemed to decide you weren’t so frightening that he couldn’t size you up. “And you are?” 

“[Name]. My dad owns the place.”

At that, a look of slight disappointment crossed his face. You didn’t understand it, not until he went on: “Then I suppose you wouldn’t be able to join me at my hole for a cup of coffee and a chat? I find myself wanting a quieter atmosphere, but I could do with some company still.”

The words no, not tonight were right on your lips. You couldn’t just abandon the inn, or your father for that matter. 

But on second thought, why couldn’t you? Really, your brother ought to have been there by now to take over, and there were other servers, too, picking their slow ways from table to table. Besides, when was the last time you’d been given time off, or even a break for that matter?

“You know what?” you said. “I’d love to.”

“Delightful!” cried Bilbo, and he held out his arm. 

It took you less than half a second to place your tray on top of one of the other server’s trays as she passed by. She gave you a wild-eyed, panicked looked, but you did not explain. 

You’d hear all about your lack of responsibility in the morning once your father discovered you had slipped away. For the time being, you were just like any other Hobbit. Who cared about work, the inheritance, or the inn when there was such a fine story to hear and such a fine Hobbit to tell it? Even as you thought about the lecture you were in for, you couldn't find yourself regretting your decision. 

[contentedhobbit]

Happy Hobbit Day 2023!

"Hobbits really are amazing creatures, as I have said before. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you at a pinch."

---Gandalf, the Grey

Hobbit Day is a name used for September 22 in reference to its being the birthday of the hobbits Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, two fictional characters in J. R. R. Tolkien's popular set of books The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. According to the fictional setting, Bilbo was born in the year of 2890 and Frodo in the year of 2968 in the Third Age (1290 and 1368 respectively in Shire-Reckoning.) 

The Fellowship of the Ring opened with a celebration of Bilbo's birthday. It was a large party with food, fireworks, dancing and much merriment. 

The American Tolkien Society first proclaimed Hobbit Day and Tolkien Week in 1978. It defines Hobbit Day as September 22, and Tolkien Week as the calendar week containing that day. The society acknowledges that Hobbit Day pre-dates their designation.

Source: Wikipedia

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1- Knowing One's Place

Summary: You and Legolas have been friends since childhood, but as you become adults, King Thrandruil, father to Legolas, begins to fear the Greenleaf legacy is threatened by your affection towards each other.

Author Note: Character introduction, Y/N, Legolas x FemaleElf, Elves, Royalty, Kings, Lords, Prince, Princesses, Mentions of Weapons and War, Lord of the Rings movie references/Pre Fellowship of the Ring, Sindarin language, Sindarin to English translations

*Suitress-Female suitor

*heni-, nin réd- understand, my son

*bein -iel- fair daughter

Italics signify flashbacks and character thoughts.

~~~~~~~~

You remember your childhood quite fondly with Legolas. Since the pair of you have been able to walk, your parents would always find you and Legolas pursuing adventures in the thickets surrounding Mirkwood. Legolas’ father, Thranduil, Elvin King of Mirkwood, perceived no threat at the time since you were merely children at play. As the two of you grew into young adults, he sensed he would have to intervene sooner rather than later when your endearments heightened towards one another. His longstanding ambition was to preserve the purity of the Sindarin royal bloodline, regardless of the cost. Your father, however, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, permitted you to be youthful playmates, and decided to not predetermine the future for you and Legolas as you progressed into adulthood.

~~~~~~~~

You shared many of the same interests as Legolas. Although you each excelled in different battle related skill sets, you would each tutor the other to nurture the other’s drawback until you’ve become a master at it. For instance, Legolas was a superior archer, and would assist you with your aim and accuracy. He often took you to the river near the kingdom to go bowfishing after you’ve mastered stationary targets. You outrivaled most Elvin warriors in swordplay, so you trained with Legolas four times a week to refine his already elevated fencing abilities.

Thranduil has often scolded Legolas for lavishly spending hours upon hours a day with you when he should be sustaining his royal obligations as Prince of Mirkwood. During his adolescence, Legolas’ punctuality suffered significantly at the expense of your engagements together, which irritated his father and in turn, frustrated yours.

Your father being a more forbearing parent, Elrond had a heart to heart with you and Legolas about imperial responsibilities and the toll it may take if you fail to fulfill them. Since then you each made sure to be more mindful of the time you spent with one other. Last thing you or Legolas wanted was to impair any good standings you had with each other’s families and the provinces.

~~~~~~~~

Legolas once again finds himself in his father’s study being lectured for his ongoing mischief with you in the forest as of late. A song and dance which Legolas was growing very weary of as a grown elf.

“Father, my affairs with Y/N isn’t all for naught. We practice worthwhile ploys daily together which would prove valuable in the event of an attack.” Legolas justified.

Thranduil turned to his son with an exasperated expression.

“My son, more evolves from these encounters than you realize.” He stated.

Legolas tilted his head curiously. “Go on.” He insisted.

Thranduil sighed then continued. “The time you waste with Y/N could be time spent considering a *suitress since you’re of age for marriage.”

Legolas rolled his eyes then averted his gaze out the window, remaining silent.

Another annoyed exhalation left Thranduil before he continued.

“Legolas, please *heni-, nin réd,” his father pleaded, “existing as a royal means you serve your kingdom, and one of those responsibilities is to make sure the noble bloodline remains pure. You will unite with a thoroughbred Elvin princess to preserve that lineage.”  

Legolas looked back at him. “Father, you speak of me as if I’m a steed to showcase for breeding. And you suspect too much. Y/N and I are simply companions, nothing more.” He reassured.

Thranduil cast his son a look of disbelief.

Legolas turned on his heel and left the room with no other words, leaving his father disgruntled once more.

~~~~~~~~

Lord Elrond has spent many a day walking the gardens of Rivendell with you, discussing you and your 3 siblings duties as royalty, battles he’s won and lost, distant lands he’s travelled whilst befriending the beings and creatures that resided there, and above all, how ethereal and divine your mother, Lady Celebrían, was in life.

“She was celestial, Y/N.” He reminisced. “Your brothers Elladan carries her wit and mischievousness whilst Elrohir holds her aptitude for intricate knowledge and appreciation of solitude. Arwen possesses your mother’s gift of patience and empathy. You, my daughter, gained the desire for valor and adventure… which I am at a loss of how or why.” He said shaking his head with a weak yet amused smile.

You laugh gently. You always enjoyed your evening strolls with your father on the kingdom grounds.

A long pause lingered before your father spoke again.

“Y/N, I’ve been meaning to discuss something of importance with you.” He declared.

You look up at him concerned. “Yes? Everything alright, father?” You asked.

He casted a soft smile at you. “It’s nothing terrible, *bein -iel,” he reassured, “I spoke with his majesty, King Thranduil-“

You sighed quite audibly, expressing your displeasure at the mention of your comrade’s father.

Elrond shook his head choosing to ignore your escaped crudeness.

“-and he voiced concern of the amount of time Legolas has been squandering with combat practices, while he should be concentrating on his stately duties.”

You look at your father affectionately skeptical.

“His ‘stately duties’ as in, choosing a princess to wed?” You dared to question.

Elrond directed a look of shock towards you.

“I didn’t say that-“ He began the effort to recover with an authoritative tone.

He clearly tried to reduce the level of concern on Thranduil’s behalf about your relationship with Legolas. Nonetheless, you saw right through your father's ruse, finding it quaint and entertaining.

You chuckled respectfully, “Father, I’m aware that Legolas has 'stately duties' to carry out.” You respond, emphasizing ‘stately duties’ sarcastically in an imitation deep voice.

Your father groaned, massaging his eyelids with his forefinger and thumb hoping to tame the headache you’ve been giving him for the majority of your life.

~~~~~~~~

[sonxofxgondor]

@therapardalis asked: ❝ I like being this close to you. ❞

Sweet Nothings Sentence Starters.

Myriad conversation flowed like the wine from Boromir and Therese's chalices, silver laced and full of maroon. As easy and as simply as the snow when winter would come to Gondor - the most natural of intimacies that the Citadel had seen in years - peaceful but never not brimmed with excitement. Quiet was the air. Melodies from birds had ceased once the sun lost all shine and was replaced by the moon. Steps from guardsmen became soft and gentle; petals fallen onto grass just before dawn. There were none around to disturb the pair. Granite bench the only other company, stationed just beneath the stars, a theater of magnificent performance, bodies pressed so close together that they appeared to be more so one whole.

Selfish, in every way that there was to be, Boromir did not choose to separate himself from Thera nor her side. Beside her did he sit, unmoved and unafraid, fingers touching every part of her that was given permission. Her face, her cheeks and chin when laughter was shared, the hemline of her dress, lace decorated, her knuckles and all the bones that created her hand. Denethor did not understand. None from the palace did - Faramir the most compassionate exception. Called Boromir foolish, they did. From the great halls, the tavern with whispers of ale ever clear, from the echoes of memories. But Boromir did not care nor would he listen. He loved Thera. Adored her, valued her in all ways and reasons, could not stand to be away from her for long. Friendship or something more, that unspoken rope that bound them, it did not matter. Boromir was committed to Therese completely. Until the end of his days. For all the years thereafter, wherever they would lead.

"As do I, Thera." Boromir smiled, warmly, the taste of his wine still on his lips, chalice half emptied. "If you may allow me to speak honestly, I don't ever want to be so far from you again. I like us as we are now. It is rather nice."

Brushing a loosened hair behind her ear, Boromir sipped what remained of his wine, the cup from his other hand, and gazed upon Thera as if she were a marvel undiscovered, pure and beautiful and a treasure that only he were allowed to see. Mischief twinkling in the depths of diamonds and emeralds, Boromir's eyes.

Boromir murmured, into the shell of Thera's ear, a secret for her and none else. "I don't want you to go. Stay with me. Until morning, or when my father comes for us both. This land, this place, it is your home just as much as mine. I do not wish for you to leave it so soon. I do not want you to leave me. Please, Thera, my dearest and most generous friend? You still have drink in your cup. Stay with me. Let us finish our drinks together! I am not ready to start missing you just yet."

[vamp-ress]

Fic Rec: LOTR

Title: The Mellon Chronicles Authors: Cassia & Siobhan Summary: YEARS BEFORE there was a fellowship, at a time when the One Ring remained quiet and unknown in the possession of an unassuming Hobbit and the gathering darkness of Mordor had not yet made itself known to the world, there was an eager young Ranger and an Elven Prince. Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Back in the day when the movies first hit this vaaaast series spanning over most of Aragorn's life was the first entry point into fandom for so, so many people. (Let me know if that is still the case for some today, it would be so awesome.) Over just the course of a few years, duo CasSio wrote 36 stories with over 1million words. There was a mailing-list attached to the series, the whole thing was hosted on its own website (back when people still did something like that) and each story came with one of those horrid cover images that were all the hype back then. We used to call this genre "Aragorn&Legolas friendship fic" and a lot of basic premises from these stories prevail to this day and many probably don't even know where these ideas originally came from: That Thranduil's wife is dead, that Gilraen is dead, that Aragorn and Legolas knew each other pre-fellowship and that they end up in perilous situations on a daily basis. This is mostly adventure with a lot of h/c. Some of the interludes are fluffy or even humorous. And even though it's gen it was highly unfluential on slash writers, too.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Holy Foreshadowing, Batman! Gandalf is SUPER psyched to get his ass under a mountain, but literally Gimli and Aragorn are like, "Nah, bro, we are worried about YOU SPECIFICALLY if we do that." And this is after Mom and Dad fought about going up Caradhras and after literally everyone is like, "We are getting super bad vibes from Moria."

But they can't go over the mountains, they can't go around the mountains, and the Gap of Rohan is too close to Isengard, so fuck it, we ball in Moria, I guess. Let's talk chapter 4, "A Journey in the Dark."

Ok, so this is a relatively long chapter (30-odd pages by my math), but wow is it mostly vibes. We start off very defeated by the anti-wizard-and-elf mountain, which makes sense because if you lose the ring bearer to exposure in the first month of travel, you're going down in history as the dingus who lost the last great conflict with Sauron. Again, Boromir is DEEPLY underappreciated as the reason our hobbits survived Caradhras.

After a few pages of back-and-forthing about where to go next, Gandalf is over here pushing Moria HARD, and literally everyone is like, "This does not pass the vibe check, wizard boy." Although Gimli is like, "I could find out what happened to Balin" and Aragorn literally says THIS:

"You followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now..."

Because apparently Fellowship leadership operates on phlebotomist rules. If you miss the vein, you let someone else take a shot.

Ultimately, the decision is made because there are goddamn WARGS after the group, and even Boromir accedes that wolves literally on your tail are worse than hypothetical wolves up the road, so we stop arguing about it and hunker down. This gives us time to have a nice little moment with Sam and Pippin though. Poor Pippin is over here like, "I wish I had taken Elrond's advice [...], I am no good after all. [...] I don't remember ever feeling so wretched, " but Sam is coming in clutch with "Honestly same, but Gandalf isn't going to let us get eaten by wolves." Which like...yeah, I accept that, and it's way more comforting than a generic "there, there." I also appreciate that Sam admits he's scared too. It's like how hearing, "Oh god, I haven't started that either" is so comforting for stressed-out students.

What neither I nor the fellowship love though, is the wolves literally sniffing around their campfire that night. There are literally glowing eyes in the dark, howls on the wind, and a goddamn warg silhouette in the gap between stones. And an arrow through the throat of one warg buys the group some measure of peace until the moon sets. Once the moon sets though, we get a pre-dawn warg attack:

In the leaping light as the fresh wood blazed up, Frodo saw many grey shapes spring over the ring of stones. More and more followed. Through the throat of one huge leader Aragorn passed his sword with a thrust; with a great sweep Boromir hewed the head off another. Gimli stood with his stout legs apart, wielding his dwarf-axe. The bow of Legolas was singing.

The battle scenes in these books read SUPER Beowulf, but are somehow briefer. Tolkien was super not here for contemporary battle scene writing; it's very much painting with watercolors. He gives you the odd detail or two and you pretty much get to fill in the rest yourself. Which is fine, and holy cow can I see where that would inspire Robert Jordan's manner of naming sword forms rather than describing an actual duel (which is not shade, I think Jordan does that really damn well and to excellent effect). But then we get Gandalf doing wizardy things in a really...unusual way?

In the wavering firelight Gandalf seemed suddenly to grow: he rose up, a great menacing shape like the monument of some ancient king of stone set upon a hill. Stooping like a cloud, he lifted a burning branch and strode to meet the wolves. They gave back before him. High in the air he tossed the burning brand, It flared with a sudden white radiance like lightning; and his voice rolled like thunder.

This hearkens back both to "Gandalf the fireworks wizard" who we meet in the Shire, but also to the little moment in Bag End where Gandalf goes wizard on Bilbo to snap him out of his Ring moment. It also is not like...wildly dissimilar to how they teach you to scare bears off in the wild: Get big and loud and look intimidating. We were not supposed to then set a goddamn forest fire--that's a little scorched earth for Alaskan survival techniques--but it was one of those moments where the familiar was made pointedly exotic, and I actually thought it was quiet effective. You take the foundation of something real and then you add a bit of wizard to it. Then things feel sufficiently grounded, but also with just that extra bit of wizard to heighten EVERYTHING. The subtlety (and yeah, I know, forest fire and lightning isn't subtle, but the way this is written is and how it functions is) is really quite impressive. That said...Gandalf, honey. Maybe not with the ecological disasters???

At the very least, the wargs were polite enough to evaporate so they didn't have to deal with any of the bodies when the sun came up.

After that, we haul ass off to the Doors of Durin. It's not a good journey though. Right from the start, the Sirannon wasn't where it was supposed to be, the landscape is lifeless and desolate, and when we do finally find the stream, it's a freaking trickle. If the IDEA of Moria didn't pass the vibe check, then the landscape on the trip in is a parade of red flags. And again, Boromir is SUPER ON POINT with not wanting to get caught between a stone wall and a bunch of wolves. This place is all quiet unease and red flags. Even the freaking WATER is gloomy and unwholesome-looking.

And then we get a WEIRD FLEX moment for Gandalf:

"I am sorry," said Gandalf. "Poor Bill has been a useful companion, and it goes to my heart to turn him adrift now. I would have travelled lighter and brought no animal, least of all this one that Sam is fond of, if I had had my way. I feared all along that we should be obliged to take this road."

Like, I believe he's genuinely sorry to have to hurt Sam and to turn the goodest pony loose. But it's the "if I had had my way" and the last sentence where I'm just like...Gandalf. Sir. Why are you bitching to Frodo that you have to share leadership on this mission? And why are you flexing an "I told you so" on Frodo instead of, IDK, Aragorn??? Is it because Aragorn would kick your wizened wizard ass for it? Because I'd watch that.

Also, again with Gandalf being weirdly open with, aware of, and as solicitous as possible to Sam. He has zero problems kicking Pippin when he's down (as we'll see in a bit in this very goddamn chapter), but he's always been very straight yet compassionate with Sam in a way that doesn't even match how this wizard treats Frodo. Like, we are almost getting to a point where I need to go see what the Tolkien scholars have written about the Sam-Gandalf relationship, because it's getting NOTICEABLY unique and it has gotten a fair number of little moments at this point. Like...what is this relationship and why is this the dynamic? I demand to know.

I also just want to take a second to highlight something DEEPLY inequitable as they round the lake to the door:

When they came to the northernmost corner of the lake they found a narrow creek that barred their way. It was green and stagnant, thrust out like a slimy arm toward the enclosing hills. Gimli strode forward undeterred, and found that the water was shallow, no more than ankle-deep at the edge. Behind him they walked in fie, threading their way with care, for under the weedy pools were sliding and greasy stones, and footing was treacherous. Frodo shuddered with disgust at the touch of the dark unclean water on his feet.

THE HOBBITS DONT WEAR SHOES. Everyone else has boots to act as something of a barrier to this gross-ass water, but the hobbits have to tromp through it BAREFOOT. Did NOBODY think, "oh shit, this will be super unpleasant for the hobbits, maybe we should yeet or carry them?" Apparently not, and honestly now they're just gonna have gross feet as they tromp through Moria and I hate that for their poor hobbit toesies. And as a WWI soldier, TOLKIEN SHOULD KNOW THE DANGERS OF WET, MUCKETY FEET.

But then we actually get to the doors--finally--and Sam has a deeply understandable moment when Gandalf tells him they have to cut Bill loose, and Gimli and Legolas try to start world war 2.5 over Elf-Dwarf relations before Gandalf tells them to knock that shit off.

Everyone is super over everything at this point, and I cannot blame them.

But where Gandalf has zero time for Legolas and Gimli sniping at each other, he takes the time to speak over Bill and give him his best shot at getting home safely. Again, I do not get the relationship between Gandalf and Sam. I appreciate the care for the pony, but whatever the Gandalf-Sam thing is, it's more than just trolling Pippin or ensuring that Frodo makes it to the volcano or ignoring Merry's existence for the most part.

Literally, Pippin gets a "Knock on the door with your head" from Gandalf, and once the damn thing IS open, Merry just gets a casual, "Merry, of all people, was on the right track" before Gandalf pulls ANOTHER weird flex and says "Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days." Like...ok, sure, Gandalf. You were TOO SMART to get the riddle.

But we get the doors open just in time for Frodo to get nabbed by a metric frick-ton of tentacles. Sam yoinks him back and they haul ass through the door, which get slammed behind them and the tentacle monster bolts it behind them with boulders and trees. After which we get THIS little gem from Gandalf:

"I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up and trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful, and had stood so long."

SIR. I was THERE when you burned a flaming doughnut into the land to get rid of the wargs. You are a walking ecological disaster and do not get to high ground the tentacle monster ripping up a few trees by the roots. You probably burned more LAST NIGHT. I know it's unfair to expect characters to know the genre of the book they're in, and by extension its equally unfair to expect them to know the themes of the book they're in. That said though...I WATCHED YOU START A FOREST FIRE, GANDALF. This is not the moment to suddenly discover ecocriticism.

At any rate, we have FINALLY made it inside Moria. Boromir is (rightfully) quite pissed off an apprehensive about this, but Gandalf is like, "Gimli and I will lead the way!" before they manage to get the party fucking lost and Sam is bitching about not having rope. Because oh my god there is SO MUCH atmospheric walking in this book. And most of the time the atmosphere is "vaguely evil with a healthy helping of depression." Which...yeah, that's what we get here.

So it makes sense that Gandalf is SUPER FUCKING OVER IT when Pippin yeets a rock down a well and they hear hammer blows from the deeps. And it makes even more sense when Gandalf realizes he's apparently also experiencing withdrawal symptoms because he hasn't had a smoke since before they started climbing Caradhras. So he non-apologizes to Pippin, lights up, and everything looks better in the morning...sort of. At least the wizard is less grumpy, and he has now firmly established himself as that member of the party who needs to be properly self-cared or he will make it EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM. Seriously, what a goddamn diva.

But getting himself a wee bit of a smoke made it so he could make a decision and they headed up to where the air smelled good. So fair enough.

Then we have EVEN MORE atmospheric walking, and Sam picks up some dwarven lore via Gimli singing a song all about Moria and Khazad-dum, and I swear, the hobbit is going to be a lore-master himself by the end of this journey.

This chapter is also where we get a bit of a mithril infodump, which is pretty cool just in general. We also get Frodo having delayed sticker-shock because he's just casually waltzing around with a whole-ass shirt of mithril on. That's also a nice little reminder to all the readers that hey, remember that Frodo has this thing? I betcha it's going to be important soon.

We end the chapter on the SUPER downer note of finding Balin's tomb, and the dwarves now have their (not unexpected) answer to what happened to the party from thirty-odd years ago. Which is really sad, frankly.

That's also about where we're going to leave this chapter, because I am...exhausted by all the atmospheric walking. We will pick up next time with a relatively short chapter, and hopefully there is more to it than infodumping and atmospheric walking.

[emyn-arnens]

In honor of @genworkjune, I've put together a list of some of my favorite LOTR gen works. Works are organized by whether they take place before, during, or after the War of the Ring. If there is overlap between categories, the work is located in the category that fits the majority of the work. All works take place in book canon.

PRE-WAR OF THE RING

dark water burning through your bloodline by @rarepairnation (T, Faramir & Boromir, Faramir & Denethor, Faramir & Gandalf, Faramir & Aragorn, 4.2k):

Since his childhood, since as long as he remembers, Faramir has dreamt of a wave. It is not a dream of creation, nor of hope. It is the draining of the coastline before the flood. It is the inevitability of the fall. He watches the marble and gilt of Númenor drown countless times before he knows what Númenor was. Before he knows he is watching his forefathers die.

Daughters, Sisters, Wives by rhymer23 (G, Éowyn & OFCs, Éowyn & Théodwyn, Éowyn & Lothíriel, 4k):

"I should have given you sisters," her mother said. "This is such a place of men." This is a tale of Éowyn and the girls and women who might have been friends in the years of her childhood, the dark years of her growing, and in the years yet to come.

WAR OF THE RING

Called, I Answer by lynndyre (G, Aragorn & Faramir, ~900):

Aragorn heals Faramir and calls him back to himself.

Elegies Unwritten by nonisland (T, Merry & Éowyn, ~500):

Éowyn and Merry, on the road to the Pelennor Fields.

Last Summer by rhymer23 (G, Frodo & Sam & Merry & Pippin, 5.4k):

It is one year on, and the Shire has never been more glorious. But to the hobbits of the Fellowship, even the sweet taste of summer can stir memories of the winter that has passed.

theft and shrubbery by @southfarthing (G, Frodo & Sam & Merry & Pippin, 2.7k):

Hobbiton's notorious poetry society decides to hold its meeting in Sandyman's front garden. At midnight. Rather loudly. Frodo can't say he's particularly sorry about it.

The Road from the South by Evandar (G, Boromir, 1.4k):

Boromir hasn't truly rested since he left Gondor, and he knows that it should rightfully be Faramir on this quest, but that doesn't stop him from following the road north to Imladris.

Waiting on the Wise by rhymer23 (G, Boromir & Gandalf, Boromir & Merry & Pippin, Boromir & Elrond, 6.4k):

Boromir endured much hardship on his long journey to Rivendell. What comes after, in the quiet and safety of the House of Elrond, could prove yet harder to endure.

POST-WAR OF THE RING

The Swallow by rhymer23 (G, Merry & Pippin & Éomer, 4.3k):

Having said his last farewells to the Shire, Merry visits Edoras and its King one final time.

What the River Carries by dearfriendicanfly (G, Frodo & Merry, Merry & Pippin, 5.2k):

"I was just thinking that you aren't talking much." "...I'm talking to you now, aren't I?" "You are," Pippin admits. "But... you're not really saying anything, if you understand what I mean." The quest is over, and Merry is home, standing a whole foot taller than when he left. But with Frodo gone and Pippin coming of age, Merry isn't sure how he fits into anything anymore.