#the hobbit ramble

[youareunbearable]

Since in canon hobbits are good at hiding and finding things, and their home is generally considered a paradise to other races for its peace and prosperity, I think it would be a fun little thing if for some reason Maglor ended up just being hidden in the Shire and accepted there despite being Unfortunately Tall and allowed to heal

Like maybe, when the Shire was being settled a group of Hobbits continued westward just to scope out how safe their land would be, and happen upon the shores enjoying the sound of distant singing. They set up camp and unfortunately didn't realize the tide was coming in until it was too late and are all scrambling and crying out for help as one of their party gets washed away to sea.

Maglor, who was nearby but didn't notice these tiny sneaks until the screaming started, rushes up and in a panic and sees what he thinks are a group of children (with pointed ears, he can't see their large feet under the water and sand, and thinks they're Elven) alone and Drowning and thinks "not again" and dives in to save them

Which he does, but he's had 4 thousand years of malnutrition, lack of care for his body and mind, and has his wounded hand that is black and scarred, which he had to use to pull these young ones to shore. Once everyone is saved he collapses to the ground, exhausted and unconscious.

The Hobbits, of course, can't just let their savior stay on the beach like this where he could also drown or be swept off to sea, and they MUST thank him for the life debt, so they carry him to their pony cart and head back to the Shire where they can give him a proper thank you

Maglor is out cold for weeks though, long enough to be brought back to the Shire and situated in one of the guest rooms in the newly built Great Smial of the Took Clan. They clean him, bandage and heal his wounds, put him in some hastily made Tall Folk clothes made out of bedsheets, and wait for him to wake.

When he does, he's in a panic and then confused, for he's never seen hobbits before, and under the fear and dread he's a little amused. All throughout the First and Second ages he's managed to avoid others and has never been kidnapped, yet here he is, at the mercy of folk that look like children.

Some things get lost in translation between Hobbitish, Westeron, and Sindarin, and Maglor thinks that he's now a prisoner to these small people, and the Hobbits think that they are going to care for him and have him be a guest of theirs for as long as he likes. Maglor, who hasnt had great mental health for the past 2 ages, agrees to be their prisoner, for honestly, he believes he deserves it.

So he heals, and once he heals (minus the blackened hand which gets medicated and wrapped and secured under a leather glove which reminds him of his eldest brother and he grieves) they put him to work. Or well, they allow him to help in their gardens, to sing songs of the sun, of joy and family and all things Hobbit. They let him help in the kitchen, where he shares recipes long since lost to the sands of time, and he helps them build a forge and how to do basic metal working, for even if his craft is one of voice and song, he is still his father's son and a Prince of the Noldor- he knows how to use a forge.

And time moves on. They build him his own smial, one that suits his height, and Maglor heals, both in mind and in body, and he goes from not wanting to escape his captors because he deserves enslavement to finding a second family amongst these folk. He gets adopted into the Took Clan, and the Hobbits all affectionately call him "Old Maggie Took" or "Songbird" or if his singing is particularly a little to loud a little too early in the morning "that damned Rooster"

He helped protect the Hobbits, weaving Songs of illusion around their home, fighting Goblins and Orcs off with Bandobras Took, making daggers and leather gear for Belladonna Took as she travels the world, and trying his best to fight off the wolves during the Fell Winter. Not as many Hobbits die to fang and claw that winter, but they did to cold and starvation and sickness.

After Belladonna and her husband died that winter, her young son Bilbo often spent time with him (mostly to escape the well wishers and their looks of pity) and so Maglor taught him things to keep his mind from loss. Taught him Quenya, and Sindarin, all about the Noldor, about Elves and Men of old, what little he knew of Dwarves from Maedhros and Caranthir, and when Bilbo asks in a quite voice, how it feels to be the only one of his family members left

He, and the whole of the Shire really, also play a very fun game of Keep Away with Gandalf whenever he visits, and while he knows Something Is Up with the Shire, he never found out about Maglor (even though he has heard about Maggie Took, and all her apparent namesakes)

While Maglor wasn't there to see Bilbo off on his own adventure he was able to make sure that when he came home it was to a home at all, even if some silverware did go missing. And when he sensed something fowl lingering in Bagend after his return, Maglor just brushed it off as something tainted from a dragon horde (later he weeps for how wrong he was and all the lives lost that he could have prevented if he investigated more)

And when Bilbo goes off to Rivendell, old and grey, all those years later guided by his dwarves, he has a silent, nervous, elven companion with him.

And its not the first or last time Elrond was grateful for the nature of Hobbits, but he wept tears of joy as he hugged his father nonetheless

[violetcancerian]

Reading where you left off in your WIP and trying to write any relevant scenes into the story:

[sir-elyan]

life's worth living because you get to rewatch your favorite shows whenever u want to. send post

[secondbeatsongs]

remember that daffodil song I mentioned on stream the other night?? the one from that vinyl record I found in my neighbor’s trash, and that I love so much?

well I found a video of the band performing it! and it’s one of the most batshit things I’ve ever seen! and that’s me saying that!

undefined

I’m screaming. I adore it.

[cassandrablah]

So I did some research on that mithril shirt. Haven’t we all? I mean, we all know that you could have bought the Shire with it, however that made me wonder: how big IS the Shire?

It’s 18,000 square miles. 40 leagues east and 50 leagues north is 18,000. Huh, I wondered, I wonder if there’s a state that’s around that size? There is.

Okay, I went on to think. The Shire is just a little smaller than West Virginia, and I was going to leave it at that. But then I remembered… the shirt was roughly worth that of the Shire. So how much is the shirt?

I am losing my fucking mind.

[technicalthinker]

having bagginshield as an otp is so funny to me? like its existence. we all walked into the cinema december 2012 really only expecting a good adventure in middle-earth. but ever since then we’ve been crying over this love story between a dwarf and hobbit.

[slothspaghettiwrites]

I am once again wishing for Smaug to take me as his prisoner, drape me in jewels, and crush me with that fire drake dick.

[hacked-wtsdz]

What I love about lotr and the hobbit is that neither Bilbo, nor Frodo came back to the life they used to live. Cause in many movies characters go through quests and then come back and everything is fine. They live happily ever after, as if their adventure hasn’t been devastating and emptying and horrifying and beautiful and unbelievable and unforgettable. The characters change by the end of the story but somehow they go back to their life even after major changes have occurred. But lotr? No. Frodo comes home and it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Bilbo returns to the Shire and it is strikingly obvious how out of place he is. How different, how unfitting. He doesn’t give a fuck, frankly, but he never lives like the hobbit that left again. And Frodo even leaves. He can’t go back. Because you truly can’t go back. Change is always both good and bad, but it’s irreversible either way. And as a person who has gone a long way from the home I was born in, seen a lot, done a lot, learned a lot and lost a lot in the process, I can surely tell that there isn’t going back. I don’t fit in with people who have lived their lives in one place, maybe moving once. Who have had the same friends since childhood. And most people are often like that. I know that I will never be able to live a life like them, and this isn’t about “look! I’m so different! I’m so much better than them!” It’s about loss. And the bittersweet feeling of empty spaces in your heart next to golden pieces that glow. It’s about the sorrow of losing the peace. And the happiness of finding out the world. There is no going back. It’s true and scary and sad and wonderful at the same time. And I feel like this isn’t shown much in movies, leading people to believe that coming back from an adventure is just like coming back from a grocery store. It’s not.

[a-hobbit-of-the-shire]

So Arcane. Let’s talk about my man Vander shall we? Who got me to sob hysterically at the end as he walked out to heroically sacrifice himself for his small band of misfit children when we see that later its... well if you know you know. The man who I know will now break my heart every time I play my favorite bruiser assassin in ARAM. I heard those Warwick noises for his W and E during ep. 3. I know what I heard Arcane, y’all ain’t slick about him. This show is so damn good and I am going to recommend it to anyone who doesn’t even care about the world of Runeterra, its that good.

[skkymyts]

My favorite ship dynamic is dramatic bastard x dramatic bastard in a different font.

[messiambrandybuck]

I'm in the constant state of wanting to watch The Hobbit Trilogy, but refusing to acknowledge canon character deaths

[youareunbearable]

I like to think that, for the Elves, being tall was seen as attractive, of having good health and fortune, and overall just seen as a trait that Elves wanted. Cause all the "Greats" and "Wisest" of the Elves were tall as trees in the books. I like to think that this is a cultural trait carried over from the Cuiviénen, where they believed that the tallest Elves were wiser cause they were closer to the stars or something so being tall became something akin to a blessing

It would be cool if they had a type of greeting that complimented a person on their height or blessed them to grow taller or something like how Dwarves greet each other by blessing their beards

It would also make their interactions a little bit more funny, like:

"Oh :// you are very hairy and you beard is so long.... (how can they stand it? Isn't it itchy?)"

"Humph, well you are much too tall, you're basically like a tree! (not a good height for working in tunnels at all, no wonder they're such bad smiths)"

And both are like "Oh, well that was nice of them maybe I shouldn't be so mean" and then procced to try and be nicer in their culture which in turn insults the other in some fashion

[violetcancerian]

HIM 💕

I tried to draw Zatz, Prince of Bats from "Maya and the Three" and honestly, I love his character design so much aaaaaahhhhh!!!

Please do not steal

[melhekhelmurkun]

You know what I don’t think we talk about enough in the Tolkien fandom? Hair. Specifically Dwarf hair.

Yes, okay, we talk about it a ton, but not once have I seen anything like what I’m about to talk about, so buckle up friends and let me convince you of a thing

It is widely accepted in the fandom that Dwarves consider their hair + beards to be incredibly special. I’m talking braids, ornaments, hair clips with jewels on them, Mithril netting, all that. It is also widely accepted that only family and those with express permission is allowed to touch a Dwarf’s hair.

But, and hear me out here, what about hairdressers? What if there were Dwarven hairdressers who were incredibly well-trained in managing all sorts of hair, who had memorized every known braid for every family line and rank/title and job/vocation and age and gender and sexual orientation there is to have, who are also considered to be incredibly important to Dwarven society?

Regular trims promote healthy hair growth. One does not simply cut their hair with a knife, unless they either don’t give a fuck or don’t have scissors on hand but really truly need to cut their hair right then at that moment. Since hair is a huge part of Dwarven culture, I’d imagine HEALTHY hair is what’s expected in society, regardless of how wild and tangled it is. It doesn’t matter if you haven’t brushed your glorious mane in a week (though it is preferred that you have), it doesn’t matter that you have leaves or maybe bits of string or cloth or wood shavings in your bushy beard (all signs of a good and devoted craftsman), it doesn’t matter if you’ve got bird shit on your head (one must watch out for those pesky thrushes), as long as your hair is healthy.

So, if trims promote growth and improve the health of your hair, and a neat trim that removes all dead and dry hair is what’s preferred, would it not make sense that hairdressing is a serious craft for Dwarves?

Consider: hairdressers that also learned plants and brewing to make their own hair products. Dressers that are also jewelsmiths/silversmiths who forge combs and hair clasps to fit exactly what each of their customers need. Dressers who work specifically with children to help them learn the braids they’ll need for their age and (eventually) gender/orientation (family braids are taught by parents). Dressers who work with the Royal Family for events like coronations and balls, dressers who work with the deceased to make sure the dead person’s hair is proper for their funeral, dressers who work for free for orphans and poorer families, dressers who leave the Dwarven strongholds to learn the popular styles of other kingdoms.

Dwarven hairdressers!!!

[grrlofswirls]

Mithril & Secrets (Bagginshield Thoughts)

So, I’ve been thinking about the mithril coat and Bagginshield again, because of a quote I recently came across while doing some research.

“‘Also there is this!’ said Bilbo, bringing out a parcel which seemed to be rather heavy for its size.  He unwound several folds of old cloth, and held up a small shirt of mail.  It was close-woven of many rings, as supple almost as linen, cold as ice, and harder than steel.  It shone like moonlit silver, and was studded with white gems.  With it was a belt of pearl and crystal.

‘It’s a pretty things, isn’t it?’ said Bilbo, moving it in the light. ‘And useful.  It is my dwarf-mail that Thorin gave me.  I got it back from Michel Delving before I started, and packed it with my luggage: I brought all the mementoes of my Journey away with me, except the Ring.  But I did not expect to use this, and I don’t need it now, except to look at sometimes.  You hardly feel any weight when you put it on.’

‘I should look - well, I don’t think I should look right in it,’ said Frodo.

‘Just what I said myself,’ said Bilbo.  ‘But never mind about looks.  You can wear it under your outer clothes.  Come on!  You must share this secret with me.  Don’t tell anybody else!  But I should feel happier if I knew you were wearing it.  I have a fancy it would turn even the knives of the Black Riders,’ he ended in a low voice.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, page 364, emphasis added in bold)

I find it very interesting that Bilbo asked Frodo to keep the mithril coat a secret, which hints that Bilbo indeed knew it’s true value, and that it is something that must be kept safe.  But, more importantly, there is also something so soft and intimate about how he talks about and holds the coat, which, to me, suggests there is a greater sentimental value to the object for Bilbo.  It isn’t a mere tool to protect his nephew, but rather a precious memory from a time long ago.

I also suspect Bilbo may have figured out what Thorin may have been trying to say to Bilbo by giving him the mithril coat: that it was meant as a betrothal gift.  Perhaps he’s kept it a secret, because he knows most people would not believe a simple hobbit is worthy of such “a kingly gift”.  Gimli’s response to the coat certainly speaks volumes too:

“‘And all the arrows of all the hunters in the world would be in vain,’ said Gimli, gazing at the mail in wonder.  ‘It is a mithril-coat.  Mithril!  I have never seen or heard tell of one so fair.  Is this the coat Gandalf spoke of?  Then he undervalued it.  But it was well given!’” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Page 440, emphasis added in bold)

With all this, I’m once again tempted to write a fanfic about Bilbo’s mithril coat, Thorin gifting it to him, and how others view both the item and their relationship.

[randomcollection-o-stuff]

A question: do you think hobbit feet are immune to Legos?