#theoden king stands alone - not alone. rohirrim!

[sunflowerbloomss]

in all seriousness the last march of the ents & the whole ending of the two towers is like. truly in my top 5 cinema moments. it's about the love it's hope it's taking grief and not letting in drown you it's trust in other people like the last 15-30 minutes of the movie are what lord of the rings is all about return of the king is the conclusion of love and hope but the two towers is to have these even at the lowest, hardest point in the journey. this sequence is truly the best this franchise has to offer

[aspenrockymountainhigh]

"Theoden King stands alone."

"...Not alone. Rohirrim! To the King!"

[windandwater]

Okay! I’ve been working on the most ridiculous fic I’ve ever written, which is, if you’re new or don’t follow me, a multi-part Legolas/Gimli journey through Lord of the Rings, behind-the-scenes style, essentially annotating the book with what was going on with them, along with a lot of extra material fleshing out some stuff that the book never covers.

And part 3 is done! I did headcanon posts for the other two installments, so here’s one for this part, titled You Shall Come With Me, as well.

A note: I didn’t plan to do this, but part 3 (following Return of the King) got really long, so I’m going to need to do a part 4 that will serve as an epilogue/follow-up to some stuff that’s covered in the appendices/off the page, as it were. To be clear, part 3 does not end on a cliffhanger and I think it closes in a way that won’t leave you ripping your hair out waiting for more; if you’re the type who never reads unfinished fic (cough me cough), you can read this one without wanting to murder me at the end.

Some links!

Series link: Where You Go, I Will Go Part 1 :Wondered at the Change Part 2: He Stands Not Alone Part 3: You Shall Come With Me Part 1 headcanons post: here Part 2 headcanons post: here

Legolas, in response to Merry becoming a Knight of the Mark: oh thank goodness someone else will be looking after him and making sure NOTHING HAPPENS TO HIM. DID YOU HEAR THAT, THEODEN/EOMER/EVERY SINGLE ROHIRRIM? NOTHING. BETTER. HAPPEN. TO. HIM. Gimli: *glaring, waving axe threateningly behind Legolas* And now you know the real reason Théoden banned Merry from riding to battle in Minas Tirith.

Legolas calls Aragorn “mellonamin,” or “my friend,” in Elvish fairly regularly, but he never, ever, ever, uses Elvish endearments for Gimli. Ever. This is, of course, because he has trouble being less than honest in Elvish, and he’d have to switch to melamin, “my love,” and he can’t—he can’t answer “what does that mean?” just yet, if Gimli asked. (Gimli wouldn’t ask. He would be afraid to.)

Elladan and Elrohir are way too nice to tell embarrassing stories about baby Aragorn to everybody. It would be kind of unfair considering he doesn’t really have any ammo in return—not that Elves don’t have an embarrassing phase, just that Aragorn didn’t get to be around for it. Once they get to Gondor, however, and once everything is over and done and they’re cleaning everything up and Aragorn is in serious discussions about What To Do Next, they do stand slightly to the back behind serious people and make faces at him to see if he’ll crack. He doesn’t. He’s been traveling with Legolas and Gimli and Merry and Pippin for months. He’s got his poker face on lock. But he does, occasionally, sneak faces back, very quickly in the half seconds when no one’s looking, and that makes them laugh, and they have to leave the room, and Aragorn finally gets one over on them, and that’s why he’s the King of Gondor, motherfuckers.

I alluded to this before, but I’m fleshing it out more now: there are women among the Dúnedain, and they fight. There used to be women fighters in Gondor, too. Only because of the dark days of Gondor’s past and wisdom that has been lost do they no longer do so. When Aragorn, who has fought among women all his life, is crowned, he will restore that wisdom and there will be no more evicting women from the city because of war. If you have the will and skill to fight, you stay. He knows from both Elves and Men that there are many ways to be strong, and that a wise leader puts the right people in the right place for the right jobs, no matter who they are or what they look like or any other ridiculous surface-level classifications that people think are so important. Also Arwen’s looking over his shoulder, making him and everyone else want to be their best self. Reminding him how many forms strength comes in. It always goes easier when she’s around.

The construction of the Black Gate is trash. Just ask Gimli. Impenetrable my ass, he’d tell you, if he was using modern vernacular. He doesn’t and he wouldn’t say that but it’s shoddy, shoddy work. Apparently Sauron was more interested in pretty shiny things when he was stealing secrets from Elven smiths than, you know, learning how to make shit look cool *and* actually work. Guy had no idea how to work with iron. Gimli took one look at that thing and immediately found 8 different weaknesses to exploit. Coulda broken in in a heartbeat. Get him drunk enough and he’ll go on a rant about how the only reason that thing and the towers next to it were still standing were 1) Gondorians built the towers and 2) he had slave labor, slave labor do you hear me, Dwarves would never, disgusting, to manage the upkeep. Ridiculous. Our shit stays up, and craftsmen work on it. Craftsmen, do you hear me? I’d help kick his ass all over again just for making me lay eyes on that monstrosity. If I’d been there the hobbits woulda been in and out, no problem, I don’t care how many eyes were on them, I’d kick all their asses, all their asses do you hear me, Legolas gimme my beer back I’m not done—

Sometimes people ask what prompted Legolas or Gimli to finally make a move. Legolas always answers by going into an extremely long answer, filled with poetry, praising Gimli in horribly purple prose when he switches to prose—until the person gets uncomfortable and takes it back or goes away. It’s nothing against anyone. It’s just. That moment was private. He’d like everyone to mind their business. (Gimli lets him field the questions. It makes him laugh, in that secret way where only his eyes are laughing and the rest of the laugh is hidden under his beard but Legolas can see it anyway. Legolas likes that laugh a lot. It works out very well for everyone.)

Faramir doesn’t want to fight anymore, either. He hangs his sword on a hook on the wall, next to Éowyn’s, and never picks it up again. He tells Aragorn he will go back to his books, and will not fight again, and Aragorn accepts. If war comes again to Gondor, he will do his duty, but he will do it from the Houses of Healing, with his wife. They will both help with strategy and healing but will not go to battle. He truly intends to go into the library and never come out. Maybe he’ll learn healing, too. He doesn’t know. He’s never had a choice before. Instead he’s the one who starts a garden. Éowyn goes there, but he’s the one who tends it and works on it and becomes the expert. He finds rest, growing instead of destroying. He grows athelas and other healing herbs but he also just grows flowers. He heals. He never fights again. He uses his helmet as a pot to start seeds indoors, wears the livery but never the armor. The swords grow dull and tarnished on the wall. Faramir rubs Éowyn’s feet by the fire after long days and is thankful, so thankful, that they survived.

Tolkien has some weird stuff about Elf biology: that sex itself is the marriage act for Elves, that interest in it fades after they have kids (…can we talk about how it’s extremely obvious a Catholic came up with this), and that, imo weirdest of all, other Elves can tell once an Elf is, uh, married. (What. Tolkien. What. That is so weird.) Anyway the second thing is a huge Middle-Earth myth—look, when people are together for a long time, intimacy can look really different than in did in the beginning, and people make up weird rumors. Some Elves are never interested in physical intimacy, of course, just like some people in all the species of Middle-Earth, but that doesn’t mean having children is the only goal of it for them any more than it is for anyone else. They may be hyper-monogamist but they still like to be with their partners! As for the third thing, that’s just ridiculous. Not a thing at all. However: everyone who knows Legolas and Gimli can tell when they finally get together. Not because of weird Elvish biology, but because they’re horribly obvious. Their body language goes from sexual frustration to radiant contentment in a flash, and they all know why. Aragorn thought he would stop begging for the sweet release of death when it happened, but he was oh so very wrong. They’re still staring into each other’s eyes too much only now they leave rooms really quickly when they do it instead of looking away in a hurry when he clears his throat. It’s terrible. He couldn’t be happier for them.

Faramir is a hugger.

Aragorn never gets enough fucking rest. He makes sure everyone else takes theirs, and is very strict about it, but as for himself? Never. Legolas and Gimli are the only ones who can convince him to do it, and they usually have to resort to outright bullying. They hatch their plan with Arwen, they day after she arrives in Minas Tirith. It goes like this: after everything is over and they’ve all left and Aragorn is left to rule the city on his own, Legolas and Gimli still plan to visit, and they do. Arwen will write them a letter mentioning what time would be good for them to come. They pack up and make arrangements, and arrive in Minas Tirith, and find Aragorn exhausted, overwhelmed, in dire need of a break. And Arwen just so happens to have vacation plans ready to go. Wouldn’t it be nice to get away, with your old friends and your wife? And oh, Faramir happens to be in the city this week, and is fully filled in on everything that’s going on, he can take over for a few days no problem. Éowyn is actually in Rohan for a bit and he could use a distraction! And Aragorn relents. Every time. They’ve never had to drag him bodily out of the city, but they’re always ready to.

Speaking of, Aragorn eventually gets so tired and absolutely done with everything that it’s actually less work to draft up a constitutional monarchy and slowly transition Gondor into a democracy. He has the fully support of Legolas and Gimli while he does this. He retires once the country is fully stable, and spends the rest of his time napping and hanging out with his kids. He’s earned it. No one argues with him. Anyone who tries gets glared into submission by his very, very battle-hardened friends.

Yes. Every single one of Aragorn’s advisors is slightly terrified of Legolas and Gimli. The staff are not. The staff & regular citizens adore them. There is a very deep divide depending on how you treat Aragorn. Arwen finds this all hilarious.

Gimli is really well-spoken but sometimes he just—loses words—because he only has Dwarvish for the emotions he’s feeling and the Common Tongue/Westron just doesn’t cover it. He could probably think of something if you gave him an hour or three to translate but in the moment it’s always really hard and he just gets choked up and silent. He doesn’t mean to come across as stony or emotionless when it happens. It’s the opposite. His friends know this and don’t mind but strangers get the wrong idea sometimes.

Legolas absolutely will not stand around and let people put themselves down while he’s in earshot. Nope. Not today. Humility, he gets, but not taking credit for the good thing you did? Stand aside, you’re getting a dose of self-esteem and you’re going to like it. If Gimli’s standing behind him glaring at you so that you feel too intimidated to argue, even better.

Sam eventually gets married to both Frodo and Rosie Cotton. Did I write hobbit polyamory into this fic so that I could eventually set this up? maybe. or maybe it just makes sense. maybe that. But anyway, it’s book canon that he and Rosie move into Bag End, because there’s enough room for both of them and he doesn’t want to abandon Frodo. It’s also canon that Rosie is really invested in Sam taking care of Frodo; I see this as a really natural relationship for all three of them, just taking care of each other and being a family for a few years before Frodo has to leave for his own sake.

Merry and Pippin secretly really wanted to throw a hobbit rager for Aragorn’s wedding, and when they’re blocked out by Aragorn, Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, Arwen, and every single official of Gondor, they’re determined to have another go at it for the Elvish half of Gimli & Legolas’s wedding, which ends up being held in Minas Tirith. They don’t quite get their way, but they do get--well. Read the fic.

It shakes out like this: they get married in Minas Tirith the Elvish way, because there are Elves around and they don’t want to trek all the way back to Mirkwood unmarried (or get married the quick & dirty--emphasis on dirty--way and skip the ceremony). The traditional (for both Elves and Dwarves) year-long engagement is not in the cards for either Legolas or Gimli, who have been through a war together and are very sure that this is it for them, but aren’t so sure how their families are going to react or how much longer it’s going to be if they have to wait until they get home. And they would very much like to have their friends around them. So: Legolas considers them both fully married. Gimli does not. Gimli thinks they are half married (part 1: complete, part 2: pending). The vows are certainly binding, but in his mind he’s still sleeping with his fiancé (half-fiancé?) outside of marriage. This isn’t necessarily wrong? I wrote Dwarves as hardcore demisexual and I fit that into canon as not being usually ready for sex until they’re engaged anyway, and at that point, according to canon, they’re ceremonially separated for the length of the engagement (a year). But sexuality is still a spectrum and everyone’s different so casual sex happens, as well as fiancés-sneaking-around shenanigans. Dwarves aren’t super uptight about it so long as no one’s getting jerked around (which also happens—and that’s when things get ugly). And there’s no way they’re not getting Dwarf-married, even if they have to find their own cave and do the ceremony all alone. (Gimli hopes it doesn’t come to that.) It’s a weird situation to be in--for now, both of them are just glad they decided to deal with it together.

As for just like. regular sleeping. This fanart is of course entirely accurate (except Gimli, as I mentioned before, doesn’t snore). Until they made it official, Legolas and Gimli never could sleep quite right except next to each other—usually with Gimli’s head on Legolas’s shoulder, and maybe it’s a little uncomfortable on the nights when he doesn’t take his helmet off, but Legolas would never say a word, because he can’t slip into Elvish meditation at all without Gimli anymore, and oh, the nights when he does take it off— Anyway. Once they do sort everything out, they both stop pretending to have any dignity at all about the situation. Legolas wraps himself bodily around Gimli, and he’s allowed to think, to say out loud, even, how much he loves to rest his head on that soft, warm cloud of hair, to hold his beloved close so that even in the waking dreams of Elves, wandering in thought under starlight, he’s not alone, not really. Gimli never thought of such a thing—if asked, before, whether he would prefer to be held or not, he would not have had an answer—would not have known how to give one. Now, though—oh, he understands now. He wonders if this is what gold feels like, in the hands of a Dwarf—if the gems he works into silver and gold know this feeling, of being beloved and held and valued for their whole worth. And yet he would not trade places with them, for he cannot imagine anything better than this feeling, of every night being held like the most precious thing in the world, feeling safe and warm and loved and cherished. After the war, they refuse to be separated at night. They’ve both spent too many nights apart, over the course of their lives, to ever do it again.

[frodo-with-glasses]

Audiobook Review: “The King of the Golden Hall”

The Rohan themesss, bruhhh…! Those horns and violins still give me chills.

You can hear Aragorn’s quiet chanting behind the narration as it is described. Love the attention to detail.

THE VIOLINSSS! AAAAHHHH!!

And you can hear everyone speaking the language of the Rohirrim behind the narration too!

The guard has an accent! He rolls his R’s more than the others, and his vowels are a bit different.

You can hear the jingle of the harness when Aragorn talks about the horses! Heckin’!

HAMAAAAA!!

Gandalf’s wheedling voice as he tries to keep the others from arguing ahaha

And his laughter as he argues about keeping his staff! I read that as him being cross and grumpy, but Phil Dragash adds some humor to his voice. Just goes to show how differently this book can be interpreted!

Theoden’s voice echoes, as if to suggest the size of the hall, and you can hear the fire cracking as he speaks.

Ewwww Wormtongue’s voice is too well imitated. Get it away, Dragash! Get out!

And the swell of music as Gandalf reveals his white robes! Heck yessss!!

Also Wormtongue’s yelping in the background LOL

The triumphant music as Theoden steps out into the sunlight! Aaahhh!

The soft pat as Theoden looks for his sword at his side, heh.

The twinkling whistle of the sword!! BRUHHH!!

The imitation of Bernard Hill’s thin but impassioned yell is ON POINT

“‘mErCy, LoRd!’ whined Grima.” Yeah, no kidding. His voice is so grating that I strongly desire to throw my phone since I can’t punch him in the nose.

“DOWN, SNAKE!!” [Grima, in the background, “Whaaaaa!!”]

EWW. Thank you, Dragash, we definitely needed a noise for Wormtongue spitting on the stones.

……..Yes, I almost forgot, there are very few girls in this story. It is very weird to hear Eowyn’s dialogue in Mr. Dragash’s voice. Galadriel’s dialogue didn’t bother me earlier—probably because her voice sounds so much deeper—but Eowyn’s voice is higher and more feminine, and this imitation of it sounds more like Pippin LOL

Gimli’s chuckle as he “pats the haft of his axe” ahahaha!

You can hear the crowd’s voices in the background too! And they quiet when the king speaks.

And Mr. Dragash’s voice gets very soft as he describes Eowyn standing alone at the door of the house…

[melnchly-a]

we’re getting to the point of eomer appearing with gandalf and the rohirrim and it gets me EVERY TIME but i am still not prepared.

[lordoftheringsfanart]

"Theoden King stands alone." "Not alone. Rohirrim! TO THE KING!" - my oil painting Source: https://ift.tt/rgpZ41j

[errruvande]

Catch Up Game

Thank you so much for the tag, sweetheart, sorry it took me so long @my-darling-haldir 💕

Last song I listened to: it's a Russian song called "Horse" by the band Lyube. I absolutely in love with that song especially with Pelageya singing it (it has a russian folk wanna be sound and she's a folk singer. I love it hah) here's the link if you interested (the video has plenty of subtitles)💗

Last movie I watched: The Two Towers just two days ago. I have no tears left in me since then. I mean watching Haldir die in 4k???? And "King Theoden stands alone; Not alone. ROHIRRIM!" and "There won't be a Shire, Pippin" I'm sorry but this bitch is dead

Currently reading: The Silmarillion. I started a millennium ago but have so little time to read rn, it's frustrating 😭btw I'm LIVING for it, can't wait to continue reading *probably will start from the beginning again (from the awkening of the Elves)*

Currently watching: Reign. I'm a slut for period tv shows. That one is pretty good, but my faves are still 'The Borgias' and 'Medici' - 10s 10s 10s across the board. But okay we all know the real reason behind me watching Reign, right? I'm just thirsty for Craig Parker 🤤 and his character is goddamn great

Currently craving: oatmeal cookies 🍪

Currently working on: i'm trying to work through my art block with P.O.W. (my Haldir x OFC multi chapter) and re-reading a bunch of my one shots for Boromir, Faramir and Legolas in case to edit and finally post them lmao i hope at least

Currently playing: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt FINALLY MWAHAHAH

Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith @aduialel @grunid @hirokosoul @elvish-sky @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @thranduilseyebrows as always i don't know if you've already done that, if so I'm sorry (and no pressure ofc)✨

[rosa-berberifolia]

The Long Haul|LOTR x Reader|Eomer x Reader - Part 3

A/N: Part 3 of 4 I think. Again, I am not super duper familiar with the books. This is based off of the movies primarily, with some changes to canon. If you hate it don’t be mean about it. I don’t know.

Warnings: violence, blackish magic type stuffs, blood, death and all that jazz

Word Count:

As the days passed after your return to Edoras you felt guiltier and guiltier. It seemed that Eomer paid no mind to the fact that he could never be with you. It seemed that his favorite thing to do when he wasn’t working with his uncle was to come find you, regardless of what you were doing, and take your hand to place a kiss to your fingers, smile sweetly at you, and then leave. Nothing had happened between you two yet. And even though that made you a bit sad, you felt it was better that way.

A raven came to Edoras one morning, for the king. It was from Treebeard, who said that the ents, along with two hobbits, had taken Isengard. You, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas were relieved. You knew that you lost the two hobbits to Treebeard before the battle at the Helm. The two hobbits Treebeard was referring to were Merry and Pippin.

So the five of you, plus Eomer and some of the king’s men went to Isengard to see what was going on. And to your great relief, Merry and Pippin were indeed more than fine, and the place was crawling with ents. You all took the two hobbits back to Edoras with you, and a few days later the Beacon of Gondor had been lit. That same day, all of the Rohirrim, your company, and Eowyn left Edoras and met under the shadow of the mountain were they set up an encampment.

You rode with Eomer the whole way. And you could see Eowyn and Aragorn give you knowing look as you rode off. You looked away in embarassment. You were definitely going to have words with them later.

///

It was an eerily quiet night. The wind was almost non existent in the shadow of the mountain. And all of the men were quiet as they contemplated how they were probably not likely to live through the battle. You felt it too, but you kept it to yourself. You just wished that you and Eomer had been intimate with each other before the end.

You knew that this battle was going to go one of two ways for you. Either you would fight and lose, dying in battle, and hopefully atoning for your past sins, or; Frodo and Sam will succeed, causing everything evil to fall, yourself included - destroying the ring means your death. Either way, you die.

You noticed Aragorn talking to Eowyn later as he appeared to be packing up his horse. You knew he was leaving to go into the mountain. You couldn’t very well let him go in there alone. You shared a tent with Gimli. You came inside to find him and Legolas playing a game where one tries to slap the others hand before they can take them away. You chuckled and shook you head at there antics. 

“Aragorn is going into the mountain. Lets go.” You said and started to fill your bags. 

///

“Where do you think you’re off to?” Gimli questioned with his pipe as Aragorn and his horse walked by him.

“Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli.” Aragorn countered.

Legolas walked up behind him with the other horse. “Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?” He asked smuggly. You walked out from behind Legolas, saying nothing but crossing your arms over each other.

“You might as well face accept it.” Gimli started, “We’re going with you, laddie.”

Aragorn smiled but then looked to you and it faltered. He shook his head. “Y/n. I must ask you stay.” Your eyebrows shot up as you shot his a surprised but scathing look. “Eowyn intends to fight in the battle.” He informed and your expression dropped immediately turning to worry. “Please stay and watch over her...if you can?”

You bit your lip to keep all of the angry words from escaping. Fuck. You sighed defeated. “Fine.” You said through gritted teeth. Aragorn walked up to you and put a thankful hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips. You knew and he knew this would be the last time you would see each other. Your chin wavered and before you knew what you were doing, you found your arms around him, and his instantly came around her. Y/n hugged Aragorn with a strength she didn’t know she had. But Aragorn was her best friend. Her first friend. Both knew that she wasn’t going to survive this war. Aragorn might. But she wasn’t. When they let each other go they smiled sadly at the other. Then Legolas stepped in.

“Mellon nin.” He said softly, giving a tight lipped smile. Y/n smiled back and wrapped her arms around his torso while Legolas wrapped his around her shoulders. He rubbed her back a little before pulling back.

“Aye lassie. I -” Gimli started but Y/n had quickly knelt down an hugged him tightly. Gimli sighed defeated and gently pat her back. With a deep breath Y/n got back up. She gave the three a bittersweet smile before walking slowly off towards Eowyn’s tent.

///

Y/n had gone to talk to Eowyn who lied straight to Y/n’s face about staying at the camp when the rest of the soldiers left.  Y/n just chuckled and shook her head at Eowyn’s stubbornness, figuring that she would deal with it tomorrow. 

Heading back to her tent, a familiar voice called Y/n’s name. She smiled to herself before turning around to meet Eomer’s warm brown eyes. He approached her and took her hand, bringing it up to his perfect lips and placed a gentle kiss there. Y\n couldn’t deny how much she wished to feel those lips on her own. She couldn’t help that her teeth took her bottom lip between them. T/n almost missed Eomer’s glance at her mouth. And almost as if it was a reflex, her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“I - I - I - uh -” Eomer tried to form words. Y/n giggled and he shook his head and took a deep breath and started again. “May I talk to you about something?” He asked. Y/n nodded - anything to spend more time with him. Eomer held out her elbow for her and she wrapped her arm around his and he lead her away.

“Is it about the coming battle?” Y/n asked.

“I know you are planning on going.” He started, “Though I wish you would stay safe and stay here.” Eomer added with a chuckle. He knew Y/n was too headstrong. Y/n looked up at him, slightly worried. It was clear that he didn’t know Y/n’s lineage, nor did he realize she’d be dead soon, regardless of the battles outcome.

That only made Y/n want to be with Eomer even more. At least before she died. She couldn’t have been more delighted - nervous, but delighted - when it turned out Eomer had lead her to his personal tent. He lifted the flap to enter and motioned for Y/n to go in. Y/n smiled before quietly going inside. 

Y/n took a few steps in the tent and took in the items inside. Eomer stepped in and let the flap close behind him. He stayed silent as he watched her take in her surroundings. She stopped when she finally noticed him standing there.

Eomer smiled and took steps towards Y/n. He put his hands on her arms and rubbed them sweetly for a moment before he stepped even closer and then cupped Y/n’s cheek gently. The look he was giving, one of longing and want, sent shivers down her spine.

Y/n licked her lips and then pressed them together. The yearning for Eomer, the want of a chance to show him how much she loved him, it was building up to be too much. Gathering her courage, she reached up and put his cheek in her hand and pulled him closer until their lips met in a sweet kiss. After a moment, Eomer pulled away smiling. He rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that again for so long.” Eomer said in nearly a whisper. 

“Me too.” Y/n confirmed with a grin so large it hurt her cheeks. They stayed like that for a moment before they couldn’t help it, and they reconnected once more. 

Quickly the kiss grew deeper and more passionate. Soon Eomer had guided Y/n to his bed and laid her down with him on his elbows on top of her. His hand had thread through her hair, pulling her incredibly close. Y/n’s hands wandered every inch of his skin that she dreamed so much about exploring. Before she knew what she was doing, Y/n had worked Eomer’s tunic over his head. Eomer took the queue and started undoing the laces of Y/n’s outfit. Shortly after, both of them found themselves bare and they held each other impossibly tight, spending their night together, taking all the other had to offer. 

///

Y/n wasn’t able to find Eowyn - or Merry for that matter - before everyone left for battle. The sneaky pair must have disguised themselves. Y/n could use magic to find them, but there wasn’t time and she didn’t have the resources. Plus the amount of energy required to do magic was great, and she thought that she really ought to conserve it in case they needed it during battle.

She sat atop a horse, waiting with the kings company as Theoden made a speech about bravery. But his words had little effect when his company got a look at the battlefield. It was terrifying. Monsters and machinery littered the field waiting to get into the walls of Minas Tirith. It was one hundred percent accurate to think that she was going to die there. But with a rousing cry for death, the ensemble of heroes galloped towards the orcs and beasts.

///

It was a massacre. Olliphants crushed men and horse into the ground and Nazgul picked them from it before devouring them. The men were fighting frantically for their lives, trying desperately to make it to the end of this seemingly endless war. It was a miracle when Y/n finally spotted a familiar marking on the armor of a soldier. It was Eomer. Still alive. Still trying to encourage his men to keep going. Y/n made for him, and she called his name. He turned to see her coming towards him. The look of relief on him made Y/n smile. She came closer and Eomer put his hands on her shoulders, taking in her figure to see if she was hurt. And when he saw that she wasn’t, he gave a loud sigh and pulled her to him so he could wrap his arms around her.

“It’s pointless to try to win.” Y/n said with little hope. Eomer shook his head and then bent down to kiss her. 

“Perhaps we can’t win. But maybe we can fight so we don’t lose.” Eomer said. And Y/n knew exactly what he meant. The chances that they were going to make it out of here were incredibly slim. But perhaps if they fought hard enough, Man would make it. Man wouldn’t lose. Self sacrifice for the greater good. Y/n nodded and pulled Eomer closer for one more kiss before saying the thing she had wanted to say to him from the beginning. “I love you.” And then she turned around.

She walked over to where there laid about ten dead horses and men scattered on the ground. Y/n looked back at Eomer to see that some orcs had approached them and he was moving to get rid of them. Kneeling on the ground, she reached deep within herself, finding the side of her that she had put away for so long. She knew that using the kind of magic she was about to was dangerous. The power and feeling of it like a drug that made her crave more and more until she might forget what side she was on. But hopefully that wouldn’t happen, or if it did, someone might stop her before it got out of hand.

“Maausan jiak nauk-ach avo avhe vadokan around alnej.” [1] Y/n said, her voice growing deeper and turning to more of a growl as she spoke. “Riuke agh deukavroausan avhouke shal our paavh, avogeavhas.” [2]

Black roots started up from the ground around Y/n and fed their way into the bodies of the dead horses and men on the ground. They all came together like a mass of black. Ripples opened up in the mass showing light like embers. Soon it began to form into a shape like a group of horses, black with eyes like fire. Their teeth barred like monsters, showing the fanged mouth that they now sported. When they neighed it was a low wave that could barely be heard by the human ear. The horse forms stopped the ground, eager to start with their dark purpose.

“Drepa!” [3] Y/n shouted and the mass rolled along as the devil horses pulled it.

Y/n aimed for the hoards of orcs af as her mass reached them, they were engulfed by it.Their screams were muffled as they were shredded and added to the dark mass, growing with every victim. Over and over, the same result, and with ever body added, Y/n could feel the good within her shrinking. It was happening. The thing she most feared. But it was so sweet, the power she was feeling. Like a drug in her veins pulling her farther away from the light and closer to evil. And her resolve to fight it was quickly fading.

Soon, Y/n didn’t care if it was friend or foe that her mass engulfed. She only cared about the kill and adding to her monstrous legion. She rolled along to someone trying to fight a wraith on a Nazgul. Something pulled her to them. An unknown force. It wasn’t until she got closer that she realized who it was: her father.

Y/n came close enough to notice who the fighter was as they took their helmet off. A small twinge in her echoed when she saw it Eowyn.

“I am no man.” Eowyn said before crying out and plunging her sword into Y/n’s father’s face. He crumpled up into darkness before exploding, knocking Eowyn to the ground.

Y/n suddenly didn’t hear the battle around her. She did not notice the men and orc fighting. It was as if her mind and soul had been yanked from her body. The bodies in her dark mass started to fall out, littering the ground as her rolling slowly came to a halt. All of the bodies were released until it was only Y/n, and she herself fell to the ground. She could feel herself draining. Like a water-skin with a hole in it. She just lay on the ground, surrounded by the ones dead at her hand. And with her last breath she thought that she was happy to have been able to tell Eomer that she loved him at least once before the end.

///

And then Y/n woke up in a healers tent.

---

Translations

1 - May I reach to all the dead around me.

2 - Rise and destroy those in our path, together.

3 - Kill!

---

Tags

@ladyideal

@merrillbee92

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #464

Top Ten Feelgood Moments in Movies

Serendipity’s a funny thing, isn’t it? I’ve been planning to make this week about feelgood films since, oooh, late November maybe. I mean, we’ve had enough misery since 2016 to last us an entire Middle-Earth Extended Edition boxset. We need our Pelennor Fields moments wherever we can get them, and Joe Biden being sworn in as President is a good a moment as any right now. So anyway, that was the plan, and then along comes good old Empire magazine with a month dedicated to top cinema moments. They’re not all feelgood, to be fair – there’s the chestburster scene from Alien for a kick-off – but it’s one of those instances of curious synchronicity. What I’m saying is, I didn’t rip them off, okay? This was percolating since the Tangerine Nightmare lost Georgia.

Anyway: feelgood.

This was surprisingly hard, because the moments that I cherish aren’t always feelgood. Even in Lord of the Rings, even in the Pelennor Fields, the whole Ride of the Rohirrim stuff is laced with tragedy. The best bits of those films – “Fly, you fools!”, “For Frodo,” “I can’t carry it but I can carry you,” “Go away and don’t come back” – they’re all melancholy, aren’t they? It’s a saga about people being heroic under duress, and in those cases quite often people don’t make it back all in one piece. Think about Pixar, what are the great moments? “Thanks for the adventure, “So long partner,” “Take her to the moon for me” – they’re all about loss. Or rather, new joy from loss, hope from despair, that kind of thing. They’re terrific, they always make me cry, but they’re not exactly feelgood if you know what I mean.

So here we are. Moments of utter joy, that’s what I’m after. Heart soaring, tears pouring, euphoric moments of extreme happiness. I’ve tried for the most part to avoid joyous moments of excess: there’s one explosion and one bit where a dude gets stabbed in the face, but for the most part I’ve eschewed “feelgood violence” for want of a better word. These are scenes that are supposed to make you smile.

And y’know what? We could all do with smiling more in this day and age.

Good luck, Joe and Kamala. Do a good job. Take us to the moon.

(P.S. spoiler alert for, well, pretty much every film in the list)

“Happy birthday, Aunt Lucy.” (Paddington 2, 2017): after ninety minutes of watching Paddington bring out the best in everybody just by existing, we all feel he deserves a happy ending. And everyone pulls together and gets it for him. Everyone he’s helped, everyone whose life he touched, they’re all there, leading Paddington – and us – to the door. As an adult, you know what’s coming; kids are less sure. But it’s a joyous moment of nothing but true happiness. Two CGI characters hug with such sincerity you can feel the warmth from the screen, and then comes those last words – quiet, whispered, almost thrown away. It’s perfect.

“When you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” (When Harry Met Sally, 1989): romcom endings are very hard. You’ve navigated a couple’s relationship, generally speaking you’ve split them up in act three, and now they need to get back together in a big, extravagant way, that undoes the plot machinations that separated them. No one does it as well as Harry here, delivering a soliloquy on what it means to be in love, loving a person’s quirks and foibles and how they occupy your mind, ending with that superb line. Sally says it best: when he says stuff like that, he makes it impossible for us to hate him.

“On your left.” (Avengers: Endgame, 2019): Captain America stands alone, battered and beaten, his unbreakable shield broken. The vast armies of Thanos stand before him. He faces certain death, and the probable destruction of everything. He grits his teeth, tightens his shield straps, and then… Sam Wilson’s voice, delivering a line from several films ago, a moment of levity and shared continuity. His friends arrive, slowly at first; Black Panther, the Guardians, Spider-Man. Legions from across the cosmos. “Is that everyone?” asks Doctor Strange. “You wanted more?!” replies Wong. And then giant Ant-Man bursts through a building, with Hulk and co. An army of good from across the galaxy to face the forces of evil. Cap calls forth Mjolnir (and that moment was so nearly my choice), and then… “Avengers… assemble.”

“That’ll do, pig.” (Babe, 1995): Babe is one of those films that’s mostly joy: feelgood throughout, really, despite moments of drama or sadness. But after some nail-biting scenes as Farmer Hoggett and his piggy bud do their sheepdog act, we have a moment of angsty silence before the crowd goes ballistic, cheers everywhere, women crying, top marks. And then very softly, oh-so-tenderly, Hoggett’s great catchphrase. It’ll do. It’ll always do.

“Indiana… let it go.” (Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, 1989): a film built on witty repartee and full-throated spectacle, Crusade lingers in the memory due to the subtle character work between father and son. They mend their fractured relationship over the course of the movie, but it’s really symbolised when Henry saves “Junior” at the expense of rescuing the Grail, calling Indiana by his chosen name for the first time in the film. It’s a great character beat, and is followed shortly afterwards by the protagonists literally riding off into the sunset.

“I am no man!” (The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, 2003): as I alluded to above, the Rings trilogy is full of incredible moments of awe, pathos, tragic heroism, and bittersweet joy. But arguably the biggest cheer is reserved for when Eowyn of Rohan dispatches the Witch-King of Angmar courtesy of a Shakespearean loophole in his whole “no man can kill me!” schtick. Coming between the awe-inspiring Ride of the Rohirrim and the death of Theoden, it’s a terrific punch of joy and satisfaction.

“E.T. phone HOOOOOME!” (E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, 1982): E.T. is another of those films full of joy, but it’s also tinged with sadness. Melancholia bleeds into the film like sunlight through Elliot’s blinds. E.T. himself spends half the film getting sicker and sicker, until he appears to die, all pale and cold-looking. But then! The flower comes back to life! His heart glows bright red, visible through his weird hyperbaric chamber/coffin thing! Elliot flings back the lid, and E.T. barks his catchphrase euphorically. God, it’s great.

“Andy Dufresne, who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side.” (The Shawshank Redemption, 1994): it’s a bit of a grim watch, Shawshank; this isn’t a Paddington-style joy-fest. Andy is wrongfully impression and then spends twenty years being brow-beaten and abused before making his escape. But what an escape; not just the audacity of it – not just the fact he gets out at all – but how he ingeniously tunnels his way out over the decades, steals the warden’s ill-gotten money, exposes the scandal at the prison, and – as Red says – crawls through a sewer. It’s a beautifully put-together scene, everyone getting their just desserts and deserved rewards, and is capped off shortly after when Red himself is released and gets to retire alongside his friend.

“You’re all clear, kid, now let’s blow this thing and go home!” (Star Wars, 1977): I almost had the mothership explosion from Independence Day on this list, because I remember how much that impacted me as a teenager; seeing the baddie aliens get theirs was just great. But really it’s a replication of this, the grandaddy of all “beating the bad guys” big bangs. Luke, whiney teenager from nowhere, ends up flying an X-Wing against the evil oppressive Empire’s mighty Death Star. When all hope seems lost, Han Solo returns, proving his heroism, knocking Darth Vader for six and leaving our hero free and clear to use the Force, Luke. Cue phenomenal fireball. Joy!

“I’m singin’ in the rain…” (Singin’ in the Rain, 1952): musicals are joyous, aren’t they? A proper old-fashioned feelgood sing-song can be transcendent. “Singin’ in the Rain” – as in, the song/dance number – is about a bloke so bloody happy that he doesn’t care if he gets wet. It’s a euphoric statement of intent, a declaration of both love and supreme serenity in and of itself. And as a piece of cinema, it’s all that and more; an escalating dance routine, as the music soars and the camera lifts up, and we take in the splendour of this one bloke kicking in puddles. It’s daft, it’s funny, and it’s just, well, feelgood.

[sunflowerbloomss]

theoden king stands alone.

- not alone. rohirrim!

[ladyideal]

Hope

Pairing: Daddy!Eomer x reader

Word Count: 1652

Warnings: mention of small injury, fluff

Summary: Requested by @asraime. just Eomer and his daughter spending time together and getting into slight mischief.

A/N: Okay, I know I lied that Bones will be up today, but I wanted to write for another Karl Urban character. he does them all sooo well, and Eomer is one of my favorites from him. 

If anyone could call Eomer, they would realize he had many titles. He was a nephew, a cousin, a lord of the mark, the third marshal, a king, a husband, and lastly, a father. He was a father to not just one, but two.

A son.

And a daughter to spoil.

Life as a princess of Rohan was fun, bright, but absolutely still recovering from the war. There was still lingering evidence of families struggling to keep themselves afloat. It had only made both your parents, especially your father, busier than normal. 

This time, he had friends, not enemies. 

Peace, not war.

So it only came as a shock, when your brother, Elfwine, confided to you in secret, that he was not interested in the throne. Swords and shields, bows and arrows, were the way of the land, and that's how he would rather rule, instead of on a throne. 

You swore you would never tell.

Eventually, your brother announced his thoughts a few weeks later, over dinner, leading to a many very heated arguments that had you eventually excused yourself from. Sure, you had gone with your father whenever he took diplomatic trips, but it was never in your future to be the crowned heir. You were just curious of Gondor, and the hobbits at the Shire.

Till now. 

Another year went by before Eomer agreed to the changes. His firstborn abdicated, and would take on the title of the next Marshal, while the younger of his kids would become the next ruling Queen.

Which meant only one thing: More work and lessons.

You were expected to attend meetings, attend diplomatic parties, attend the trips to various different parts of Rohan as the country returned to its former glory after the costly war. For the most part, you shouldered the weight of it all with a brave smile to the public, showing no evidence of the late night anxiety when you would cling to Eomer in shoulder wrecking sobs.

It was too much and not enough at times. There were times during the harder weeks that you wanted to ride your horse, Astra, out of Rohan and never look back. Yet there were times, all you wanted to do was to take on more projects, and exhaust yourself in the name of having your people live a better life. 

You had tried it once. After a frustrating morning with the financial adviser, you had taken your horse out for a ride into the countryside, and away from all the commotion. There, you spent the rest of the day, on your own and with your thoughts. It was evening before you decided that it was time to head home.

It wasn't your mother's furious tone, nor the disappointment in her words as she berated you for being so reckless, that swayed you to be more careful in the future. What did convince you was the brief look of fear within Eomer's eyes you'd seen when you returned, and was your first time that you'd ever seen such a response from your Father.

It broke your heart into pieces when he pulled you into his arms, crying into your shoulder that he was sorry about putting everything onto your shoulder all at once. It should've been you that apologized, not him. You realized then, that it wasn't because you were crown or his heir, you were family and he'd lost many during his early years.

A knock came at your door. 

You looked up from your notes, noticing that the sun was dipping below the horizon, sparkling the sky above with a prism of a breathtaking rainbow. 

The door opened, revealing Eomer looking concerned for you. 

"Hi dad," You greeted, brightening up as he crossed the threshold into your room. His eyes studied your barely concealed black circles, and an everlasting look of exhaustion that never seemed to fade away.

"Y/N," Eomer greeted, gently squeezing you in a brief hug. "Why don't we take our dinner out to our spot? The sunset is beautiful today."

Not wanting to let the chance fly by, you immediately agreed. Before long, your father was on Firefoot, and you on Astra with a picnic basket in hand. A couple guards came along, but fell behind in an effort to keep privacy between father and daughter.

It was supposedly a spot he'd found back when he was just the nephew to the late King Theoden, and a newly Third Marshal of the Rohirrim. His wife knew of the spot, but pretended to play ignorance on not knowing where the place was.

"Were you ever ready to become King?" You asked after settling down against a lone tree upon the hill. It overlooked Edoras, and the multitude of huts surrounding the hill fort that served as the center of power for Rohan. The view was breathtaking, and wonderfully scenic, and absolutely your spot to spend precious time with your dad.

"No. Uncle Theoden had Theodred to be first in line," Your dad spoke, taking out the items within the basket. "He was killed at the Fords of Isen though. Uncle never got to speak with his son before Theodred passed."

It was barely even considered history, given what had happened wasn't so long with the war of the ring. A good majority of the people had gone through the horrors of war, of blood, and of death. All capable men were to take up arms.

It was a grisly war, one that was still fully engraved in your father's mind for the rest of his life. For many people throughout the Middle Earth, the same sentiments could be felt throughout the land.

"Do you think it'll happen again?" You asked, starting on your light dinner. "Y'know the whole ring and everything?"

Eomer barked out a laugh. "We'll be ready if something like this happens again," He spoke, gazing down at the capital of Rohan. "Your old man's not ready to lay down his sword just yet. Even if something happens after my time has gone, I hope you and your brother will remember that, in times of need, you have friends to rely on in Gondor, at the Shire, and across Middle Earth. No matter what happens, hope is never lost."

"You think so?"

"I know so," He reached forward to gently squeeze the dimples that you had inherited from him.

"Dad!" You complained half heartedly, squealing out of his grasp. With a slight grin, he returned to the food in front. 

"Did you sprain your wrist again?" He asked, after a moment of content silence. "How?"

You nodded slowly. "Fell off. Again."

Your father let out a labored sigh. "Don't let your mother hear of this later. We can stop by the healers, and get that wrapped up before it gets worse," he grumbled into his food. "Or I'll never hear the end from her."

You laughed, but sobered up immediately at his pointed glare. "Mom's going to find out sooner or later."

Eomer grumbled wordlessly, but continued eating what's left of the small dinner. As the sun went down below the horizon, your horses were untethered for the short ride back home.

"Can I tell you something dad?" You asked, hauling yourself back onto the saddle with practiced ease. 

"Of course, my love. You can tell me anything," Your dad pulled Firefoot close to yours, eyeing you and raising his eyebrow in question. It wasn't until you were halfway back home till you spoke up again.

"What if I do something wrong? Or even say something wrong?" You asked, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously. "I'm afraid of not getting things right."

"Y/N, listen to me," He spoke. "You might not get everything right, but what you stand up for, and what your intentions are, are worth much more than words alone. We are in the service of the Rohirrim, not them to us. It is because of them that we are here today."

"Were you scared when you became King?"

"Terrified," Your dad spoke, looking forward as the stables grew nearer. "I did what I thought was right, and listened to the people."

You lapsed into silence for the rest of the trip home, only grumbling in pain when you couldn't swing yourself down your horse and needed help. Once Eomer settled you down on your feet, he took your non injured hand in his. 

"Let's get that wrapped up, shall we?"

After having the wrist prodded, checked, and wrapped, you departed from the healers with your father in tow with a sheepish grin.

"Do you think Mother will-?" You stopped short as you caught a familiar figure standing in front of the hallway towards your room. From behind, you heard your father audibly groan.

"So this is where my daughter and husband have disappeared to for the last few hours," Your mother spoke disapprovingly, arms still crossed against her chest with a rather upset look.

"Hi mom," You greeted quietly, slightly shrinking under her glare. If you didn't stop her at this pass, she would never be stopped.

"Why are you hiding your wrist, Y/N?" Her eyes narrowed at your half hiddened wrist. "Did you fall off your horse again? For Valar's sake, Eomer, when will you stop bringing her outside of safety and hurting our child? And when will you be more careful, Y/N? This isn't the first time anymore!"

"Mooooom," you whined.

"And where do you think you're sneaking off to, Eomer?" She snapped. 

"My love, I've still-."

But even he as king, couldn't avoid the wrath of his wife and queen. 

"Oh no you don't. You got her into this mess, now you're getting her out."

You and your father groaned, but with a nod, escorted you back to your room. Thankfully, you had a loving father and King ready to help you every step of the way. 

Permanent Tags: @mournthewicked @asraime @mournthewicked (Taglist is open!)

[winchesterandpie]

Unlovable (Eomer x Reader)

Pairing: Eomer x insecure!fem!reader

Word Count: 1,765

Warnings: Insecurities, feeling down, fluffy Eomer

A/N: So, I know I’ve been basically missing all summer and haven’t had time or really motivation to write anything, but I finally did! I went to a friend’s wedding reception and on the way home I had some thoughts similar to the ones here. I don’t think I’m the only one to have wondered these things, so I figured I’d share this. It hasn’t been proofread extensively so please forgive grammatical errors! Hope you enjoy! Gif isn’t mine.

After Eowyn and Faramir’s wedding the Rohirrim rode home, led by our newly crowned king. The ride had been full of celebration, but it had also left a lot of time for thinking, perhaps too much. I may have been a part of the Rohirrim, but my parents had grown weary of waiting for me to marry.

 ‘A young woman of your age,’ they would tell me, ‘should be married, with a child on her hip.’ Often they would speak of the past, remembering when the King’s nephew, Eomer, and I had been close as children. Our parents had thought it might turn to courtship, but then Eomer’s father had died, and he and Eowyn were taken under the wing of King Theoden. Gone were the days where he and I would imagine adventures together, and with them went my parents’ hopes. We’d stayed close, sure, but the only child of commoner parents was unlikely to win the eye of a handsome man who lived in the Meduseld. 

As my parents’ only child, my father had taught me to use a sword and a bow. Sometimes I wondered if he’d regretted it after I joined the Rohirrim. Now, I was battle-scarred both in body and mind, and I had given up hopes of any offers of courtship. Even though I still harbored feelings for Eomer that had never lessened, but rather increased with time, I knew nothing would come of it. 

To be honest, I had made my peace with it, but Eowyn’s wedding stirred up old longings deep in my soul. Not that I begrudged her her happiness - she and I were close, and of course I was ecstatic for her. Nonetheless, the otherwise happy occasion had opened old wounds.

I removed Aesir’s tack more slowly than usual, hindered by an injured arm as well as rushing thoughts. Returning to his stall with a brush, I found myself alone in the stable, except for the company of the horses. 

“Oh, Aesir…” I ran the brush along his neck as I spoke. “What is it about me that makes the men avoid me? They’re perfectly willing to speak to me of battle, and strategy, and horses, but it seems the moment they remember that I am a woman, they want nothing more than to be free of my presence. Eomer… he’s a good friend, and I’ve only grown to love him more as I’ve we’ve grown older… But he’ll never feel the same about me. I fear I’ll always be alone, Ace.” 

The bay horse chuffed quietly, turning his head to rub his muzzle against me, as though reminding me that he was there. It brought a smile to my lips, if only a small one. 

“Yes, I know you’ll be here.” I tousled his forelock playfully before returning to brushing out his coat. “My mum worries for me, though… I think Da does as well, though he’s quieter about it.” Stepping around him carefully, I moved to Aesir’s other side. 

“They always wanted more children, but since I’m the only one they’ve got, they want grandchildren now. Whenever I visit them, it’s the first question Mum asks, ‘have you met anyone special yet?’” I imitated her as best I could, chuckling quietly. The bay shook out his mane in amusement. “My answer’s always the same, though. ‘No, Mum, not yet.’ And then she gets this look in her eye, like she’s disappointed. She’ll always deny it, though, if I say anything.”

“I’m not sure she’s wrong to be disappointed either. After all, I’m twenty-six, and I haven’t got a single prospect in sight. Mum still wants me to pursue Eomer, but that’s a lost cause.” I moved to combing out the tangles from the jet black mane, trying to release all my frustration on the small knots that just wouldn’t come out, trying to keep the tears from building up in my eyes. “I suppose this is what I get for being a Rohirrim, though. Eomer deserves far more than me, especially now that he’s the king, and no other man would look twice at a woman who carries battle scars.”

A single tear slipped free, and like bursting floodgates, many more followed. I was glad to be alone in the stables then, as I wrapped my arms around Aesir’s neck and buried my face in his mane. “Why am I so unlovable?” My voice cracked as I asked the question that had ached in my heart since Eowyn’s engagement to Faramir. The horse tucked his head tighter against my back, returning the embrace as well as he could. 

Then someone cleared their throat, and I immediately shifted away, using Aesir as a sort of shield to hide behind as I tried to wipe the tears away. If it got out to the other Rohirrim that I’d been found crying into my horse’s mane, it would only serve to increase the odds against me ever finding love. 

“Y/n?” Oh no. Of all the people who could have found me, it was none other than Eomer, the new King of Rohan himself. 

“Eom--Your majesty.” I didn’t have much luck drying my eyes, so I only peaked above Aesir’s neck, hoping desperately that Eomer wouldn’t notice their redness. “What brings you to the stables?” Maybe if I acted as though nothing were wrong, he wouldn’t ask. 

“I came seeking the counsel of a friend.” He came towards me as he spoke, stopping just outside the stall. “Instead I find that my friend is troubled.” His brown eyes were kind as they met mine, and I knew I would not be able to brush it off as nothing. 

“How long were you listening?” I asked quietly, my gaze dropping to the straw-covered ground as I crossed my arms in front of me. 

“Long enough,” Eomer replied, shifting uncomfortably for a moment before ducking into the stall to stand in front of me. “Y/n,” he began. 

“It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.” The tears came even more fiercely then. “Just go, Eomer.”

“What sort of friend would I be if I left you crying in the stables?” He sounded even closer, but I had shut my eyes in a vain effort to slow the tears. A calloused but gentle hand grasped my chin, lifting it so that I would meet his gaze. I sniffled quietly, but it was enough to break the trance he seemed to be in and he quickly enveloped me in his arms. At the unexpected contact, I froze for a moment before the dam broke and I returned his embrace, burying my face in the soft fabric of his shirt.

Eomer just held me without saying anything for a long time, the silence in the barn interrupted only by my muffled sniffles and the horses moving around.  He rested his cheek atop my head, one hand combing through my hair soothingly. Gradually, my tears slowed but I was too embarrassed to stop hiding in his shirt.

“I did not know you thought so little of yourself,” Eomer said carefully. I tensed, afraid of what he would say next.

“I haven’t had much reason of late to think otherwise.” I forced a tiny shrug, trying to sound as composed as I could after bawling into his shirt.

 “Y/n, you are not unlovable.” He said after a long minute, squeezing me more tightly to him. “ You are the bravest person I know, and the scars you carry do not make you any less beautiful. Any man you agreed to court would be the luckiest man in Middle Earth.”

“I don’t deserve you saying such kind things, Eomer.” I twisted out of his embrace, turning back to run my hand over the bay horse beside me, more as an excuse to avoid meeting the blond man’s eyes than anything else. 

“That’s true - you deserve far more than my words, far more than you think you do.” I just shook my head forlornly when he spoke. “And I should’ve said something sooner. You said you’d only grown to love me more over the years, and you’ve thought it to be one-sided, but I’ve done the same thing.”

“Wait, what… what are you saying?” I’m sure my face must’ve shown my surprise, because Eomer chuckled softly. As he stepped toward me, I finally noticed that he’d changed from his armor into a loose green shirt and a pair of comfortable-looking trousers. They certainly fit him well.

“I said,” he paused, placing his hands on either side of my face and brushing away the last of the tears, “I love you.” Slowly, as though giving me time to move away, he leaned his forehead against mine. I relaxed into his touch, my eyes drifting shut. 

“I… I never thought--”

“Neither did I. But we’re here now.” He smiled at me, his eyes lighting up as I returned his grin with a shy one. “And since it took us so long to get here, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait to kiss you.”

“You might… might not have to wait any longer,” I replied, flirted back hesitantly. “If you want, that is.” His smile widened, and I would’ve sworn he could outshine the sun at midday. 

“Yes, I think I’d like that.” Eomer gently tilted my chin up as heat spread across my cheeks. 

My eyes closed just before our lips met. His were softer against mine than I’d imagined, even slightly chapped as they were. He shifted carefully, one hand sliding down to the small of my back, pressing me impossibly close to him. The smell of him--of horses and leather and sun--enveloped me as we kissed. My hand found its way to his hair, playing with the soft blond strands as we broke apart. 

I couldn’t help but giggle a little at my once-distant dream becoming reality. Aesir nickered and shoved us with his head affectionately, reminding us that we were still in the horse’s stall. Eomer’s eyes crinkled up as he chuckled. We ducked out of the stall together, and he kissed me again happily. He pulled away after a brief kiss, only to lift me in his arms and spin me around, laughter bubbling from our lips as he set me down.

“Does your mother really--”

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes at the thought of her ‘advice’ about my love life.

“Well, at least now you have something to tell her,” Eomer said cheerfully, setting his arm around my shoulders as we left the barn. 

“Aye, that I do.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

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[ladyfenring]

Top 5 lotr moments

OH GOD OKAY

1. the entire “It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo” speech

2. when the fellowship all majestically walks over the hill and the music swells and you’re like SHIT WE ON AN ADVENTURE NOW

3. when aragorn, gimli, and legolas are going after merry and pippin in two towers and the music swells and you’re like THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES

4. “wha about sehcend brehkfest?”

5. “theoden king stands alone.” “not alone. ROHIRRIM.”

[dalleyan]

Rage (Ch. 3 just posted, 7-11-20)

Lothiriel of Dol Amroth was receptive to the idea of marriage to the King of Rohan, but when they finally meet his behavior makes her reconsider the possibility. Complete in 3 chapters.

Final Chapter

Chapter 3   (Jan)

In the days that followed, Eomer seemed more receptive to Lothiriel’s company, though she could never be certain what sort of mood he would be in at any given moment.  Always she tried to keep their contact lighthearted, and often it did appear to lift his spirits.  The cold, dark days of winter, however, appeared to prey upon his thoughts at times, and he would have seemed nearer if he were in Gondor.

He came to dinner one day in a strange mood, and said little during the course of it.  After Eowyn had excused herself, and before Lothiriel could depart as well, he finally articulated what held his thoughts. Staring into the fire, he spoke in a monotone voice, observing, “You were right.  I am become like my father, reckless and…dangerous.  I cannot seem to stop flinging myself into battle, unheeding of the peril we face.  More than once I have risked the lives of others so that.…”  He stopped, consumed by his ponderings, and for a time Lothiriel did not respond.

At length, she told him, “Did you know that my father told me of his first glimpse of you?”  Eomer’s eyes flicked up to look at her in surprise. “He said you had watched Theoden die, and then discovered Eowyn among the fallen.  You believed she was dead also and lost all hope, charging back into battle with a tremendous fury.  You were outnumbered, even more than before, and though Father rode to your aid, the enemy was gaining the upper hand.  Both he and you despaired when you spied the corsairs approaching, but then you glimpsed Aragorn’s flag and knew that help had arrived.  You rallied your men for a final defense, and when the dust settled, Men had prevailed.”

Eomer’s eyes were riveted on her as she recited this history, so familiar to him but seeming somehow different coming from her lips.  Then she met his gaze steadily and added, “Father holds you in the highest esteem, Eomer, and he has never once spoken ill of your actions in battle, not even then.  He understood how grief and despair had overwhelmed you that day, impairing your judgement, but he did not deem it a permanent character flaw.  Neither should you.  I have never heard any who has stood beside you on the battlefield speak ill of your actions.”

To his surprise, a tear trickled down her cheek, but she did not seem to notice.  And something inside of him loosened ever so slightly, almost as though a cold hard chunk of ice was slowly beginning to melt.  Could it be so?  Was that only a momentary lapse on his part, not entirely within his control? Part of him desperately wanted to believe it, and yet, since that time, he had recklessly charged into battle.  But….  And for the first time it dawned on him that the subsequent times were different than that day on the Pelennor.  There he had risked the lives of others, so caught up was he in his despair and rage. Lately, though, his recklessness had largely just been a risk to him personally.  While it concerned his men, and they made every effort to keep him safe, he had not been endangering them much beyond the norm of any battle.  Why had he done it?  All he knew was that the thought of any orcs still infesting their lands filled him with unquenchable fury.  How could the king of Rohan keep his people safe when such evil was still abroad? Only in their destruction could he feel some measure of success in doing his duty to the Riddermark.

Lothiriel watched the emotions flickering over his face, and kept silent.  Perhaps her words had touched a nerve; hopefully they had triggered some introspection that would guide him to a resolution of whatever was eating away at him.  She was tempted to slip away and leave him in peace, thinking her presence was intrusive, but she did not think he would want to be left alone just now, and so she sat quietly and waited.

At length, his eyes lifted and focused on her, filled with inexpressible gratitude.  For several long moments, he just stared at her, before nervously clearing his throat and standing.  “I should get back to my study.  I have much yet to do today.”

She rose as well, and then on impulse, asked, “Eomer, do the Rohirrim ever ride in such weather as this?” The past few days, though it continued to be cold and blustery, the snow was beginning to melt somewhat.

His eyebrows quirked and he nodded.  “The Rohirrim ride in any kind of weather.  Why?” 

“I am unused to being indoors for such a long stretch, and I should very much like to go for a ride tomorrow.  I would be pleased if you had time to join me, but if that is inconvenient, I am sure Eowyn would not mind.”

The suggestion seemed to catch him off his guard, but clearly he found the notion appealing. “I will make time,” he promised, giving her another nod of his head before exiting the room, and Lothiriel smiled.

  Continue reading on AO3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/25071277/chapters/61093513

[padfootagain]

The First Horse

I've received 2 requests for Eomer being a dad, so here we go!!

I haven't written much for this character yet, so please, tell me if I'm doing okay.

Just cuteness, and cuteness and cuteness.

Gif not mine

Word Count : 1888

The sunrises were your favourite moment of the day. You always woke up early to watch the golden light bathing the fields of Rohan, as the inflamed orb climbed above the white mountains.  

It also gave you an excuse to watch your husband peacefully sleeping in your bed, next to the window.

You had learned to appreciate this moment of the day more than any other. The stillness of the Kingdom at your feet, the light songs of the birds, the cool rays of sunshine, the chilly air, the burning ice of the mountains, this expression of peace on Eomer's face…

You had survived the War of the Ring together. You had seen sorrow and fear in his eyes. You had helped him to overcome the traumas brought by war. And he had done the same for you.

Years had passed now, but worry was still often painted on his brow. Worry for other matters, but you knew it still tortured him. He was King now, he had the fate of his people in his hands. He was carrying the weight of all Rohan on his shoulders. And that's why you appreciated this relaxed look on his face so much…

You turned you gaze back to the young day, watching the banners float in the wind. Three riders were braving the early lights and leaving the safety of the city, crossing the hills covered with grass.

You didn't hear Eomer standing from the bed behind you, you were too focused on the world that slowly woke up before you. But you didn't jump as he wrapped his strong arms around you from behind. You were too much used to his touch by now, you could recognize it in a second.

"How does the world look today?" he asked softly, his morning voice sounding husky and sending shivers through your spine.

"The world looks good. Bright. At peace," you answered with a smile.

He dropped sweet pecks onto your neck as he spoke again.

"A good day for Eoras's birthday."

You smiled, nodding your head.

"I know you are always busy," you asked softly, "but could you…?"

"I will take care of no duties this afternoon," he interrupted you, guessing your next words.

Your smile turned into a grin.

"I thought that I could show him his birthday present myself, what do you think?" he went on.

You nodded enthusiastically.

"I should let you have a ride with him alone," you decided. "I know that he worries much these days."

"Really? Is that so?"

"I do not know the reason behind such a worry though, he refuses to tell me. But you always have a way to make him feel better."

"Well… he is my son."

You turned towards him, resting your forehead upon his shoulder, letting his fingers get lost in your hair.

"Don't go too far in the fields…" you admonished, but Eomer merely laughed at you.

"Our son has the blood of a Rohirrim!"

"He still is my baby…"

"You are overprotective."

"Well… you didn't complain about me being overprotective when I saved you during the War…"

"Now, now… that was a completely different time and completely different situation."

You both laughed, holding on each other tightly.

"Try to talk to him," you went on, growing more serious again.

"I will."

You remained standing there for a long while, your eyes closed as you buried your face in his bare chest, breathing deeply his leathery scent, while he lost his gaze amongst the infinite fields shaken by the wind.

And when you finally moved away from his embrace, Edoras was already awake.

 ---------------------------------------------------

 Your son was over-excited. Eomer was a loving father, but his duties often kept him busy, and the days when he could spend entire afternoons with his family were rare.

To the boy, spending so much time alone with his father was the best birthday gift imaginable already. He hurried during his studies, but you didn't blame him. It was his birthday after all…

When Eomer finally joined the two of you in the beginning of the afternoon, the boy hurried towards him with a bright grin on his face.

"Mother told me you would spend the afternoon with me!" he grinned up at the tall King.

Eomer let out a chuckle.

"Did she now? Well… after all… it is your birthday. Of course we'll be together today!"

"I'll see you later then," you came closer to your two men. "The afternoon is all yours. But do not try to eat the cake without me!"

"We won't, mother!" the boy promised.

You nodded, walking away and letting your husband alone with your son. Eomer wasted no time, and guided his child across the castle to show him his birthday present.

He stopped before the Royal stables.

"Well, Eoras," he said slowly, bending down to bring his face levelled with his son's. "You are thirteen now. You are approaching manhood. Your mother and I thought that it was time to give you more responsibilities. Do you think that you are ready?"

The boy nodded, staring intensely at his father, his blond curls floating in the wind.

"Then follow me, my son."

They walked together beyond the large wooden doors carved in the shapes of horse heads. And for all this time, the boy was wondering what his gift could be.

When his father stopped before a black horse, the boy merely looked up at him with wide eyes.

"His name is Leren. Take good care of him."

"You… I…" the boy stuttered, struggling to find back his voice. "Is it… my horse?"

"Indeed," Eomer nodded.

He invited his son to get closer, and Eoras softly stroked Leren's powerful jaws.

"You will have to take care of him," Eomer repeated. "Make sure he is well fed, clean him, make sure he is healthy. The stallion is already tamed, but you will have to make sure that the bound between the two of you is strong enough for him to follow you anywhere, even in battle. Do you understand, Eoras?"

The boy nodded.

"He's beautiful," he breathed in awe.

"And now he's yours."

"Thank you."

The child was beaming up at his father, and there was so much happiness in his eyes that Eomer felt his heart tighten with emotions.

"What about we go for a little ride together?" Eomer proposed.

His son nodded frantically, already jumping towards his saddle to get his horse ready.

Eomer watched his son getting ready, but he didn't need to help him. The boy was doing just fine on his own. But then, Eomer and you had made sure that he knew how to handle these fearful creatures after all.

Just a few minutes later, they were both riding out of Edoras, aiming for the hills covered with yellowish grass made rough by the hot weather.

Eomer helped his son commanding his horse for a while, until  the boy was able to control his horse under a gallop on his own.

They kept on riding for a long while, the sun already starting its course towards the nearest mountains. But Eomer had not forgotten about your words and the worry that was painted on your face that morning. So he dismounted for a while, guiding his son and the horses on the top of the closest hill.

For a moment, he sat down on the scratchy grass in silence, watching the yellowish sea before him, its motionless waves blocking the view, and yet letting his gaze reach the highest peaks beyond.

The wind blew quite violently on the top of the hill, and the boy next to him closed the buttons of his coat.

"I used to come here with my sister when I was around your age," Eomer spoke out of the blue. "We spent hours wandering across the fields, but we always ended up here, on this hill…"

He turned towards his son, his stare full of warmth.

"Your mother is worried," he said. "She told me that some matters troubled you."

The boy looked away in a hurry, fleeing his father's gaze.

"It is nothing, father," he breathed.

"Do not lie to me," Eomer warned him, his voice colder now. "Nothing good can ever come out of a lie. Is that understood, young man?"

The boy nodded sheepishly.

"There is no shame in being worried," Eomer reassured the child. "So now, tell me what bothers you."

The boy hesitated for a few more minutes, before looking shyly up at his father.

"I… I am scared."

"What are you scared of?" Eomer asked softly, resting his large and calloused hand on the boy's shoulder. "Rohan is safe. You are safe here."

"I… do not know how… What if I am not a good King?"

He looked up at his father with eyes full of terror.

But the man next to him merely smiled at him.

"Why would you be a bad King? You are no evil."

"But you… you are such a great King… What if I can't be as good as you are? What if our people is disappointed?"

"You will not have to bear this responsibility before a long time, son," Eomer replied with confidence. "But either way… I am not perfect, and my steps have led me to make mistakes many times already, and I am certain that fate has prepared more mistakes for me to make later on my path. As long as you try your best to defend our people, then you will always be a good King, son. And anyway, as I said, you shall not bear those duties before long years have passed. I am far from ready to go."

"I know that I still have some time. But it still is scary. Were you not scared by then? When you were still supposed to be King but were not one yet?"

"I was not raised to be King, Theoden had a son. I was trained to guide soldiers, and lead armies. I was a Rohirrim, not a Prince. But when your people is in need, you cannot turn your back and leave. You must face the responsibilities that fall upon you, even if you were not prepared to handle them. Do you understand? Our loyalty belongs to Rohan. And our duty is to protect Rohan at all costs. I was scared when I became King, I was unprepared. But what was the most important… and what helped me… was the fact that I was not alone."

"Really?"

"Your mother was already by my side. And she was already the strongest woman I have ever met."

The boy smiled.

"She is…" he nodded slowly.

"There is no need to worry, son, not for now. You have time still. Time to be a child still. Time to learn how to be a man, before trying to learn how to be a King."

The child nodded again, turning back towards his horse.

"I think we should go back," he said softly. "We should eat the cake with mother."

Eomer laughed, but stood up anyway.

"Indeed, you are right."

Before the crows could settle down in the branches of the nearby tree, Eomer and your son were gone, galloping back to the city to see you.

And Eoras's mind was at peace once more…

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Best of Wives and Best of Women - Eomer

Fic #44 of the Hamilton Prompts Pairing: Eomer x Reader Song: Best of Wives and Best of Women A/N: I’ve had this in my inbox for forever! Sorry to the anon who requested this over a year ago! I shouldn’t have added it to my Hamilton prompts. I hope you’re somewhere reading this!  Synopsis: Eomer is missing, and the reader does her best to try and find him.  Word Count: 1,069

“Eomer, come back to sleep.” You woke up from the candle light that was glowing at the opposite side of the room, and found Eomer moving about the room.

“I have an early meeting out of town.”

“It’s still dark outside,” you said, crawling out of bed, walking toward your husband.

“I know. I just need to get a few things together.”

“Come back to bed, that would be enough,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone,” he said with a gentle laugh, looking back at you.

“Come back to sleep,” you tried again, pulling on his tunic slightly.

“This meeting’s at dawn.” You frowned and pulled away from him. 

“Well I’m going back to sleep.” You started to walk back to your bed, but he grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, best of wives and best of women.” You smiled at his familiar statement and kissed him.

“Come back soon.”

When you woke up, Eomer was not in bed with you. You got up, and changed into a different dress and made your way into the throne room. King Theoden was still looking ill, resting upon his throne.

“My King, have you see Eomer?” King Theoden didn’t answer, but moaned something uncomfortably. 

“Eomer? That fool is long gone.” Wormtongue emerged out of the shadows, and crept closer to you.

“I wouldn’t say such things if I were you. What did you do?”

“Young Eomer was upsetting the King.”

“His nephew was upsetting him?”

“Yes, yes,” Wormtongue said, putting his hands on your shoulders. You tried to pull away, but he followed. “He had to be sent away. He had to be banished.”

“Banished?” you asked in shock.

“He didn’t tell you? He asked for the night. I assumed he meant to take that time to tell you, and prepare his Rohirrim.”

“The Rohirrim?”

“They are no longer loyal to the king, but to Eomer.”

“Eomer is the future king.” Wormtongue smiled at you, and you pulled away. “Your loyalty lies with Saruman, not our King.” Theoden moaned again, and Wormtongue looked delighted. 

“You’re beginning to upset the king as well.” He kept moving closer and had soon backed you up into a pillar.

“You seem to be the only one upsetting his mind.”

“Treason would not look well on you, my lady. Where will you go without your faithful husband at your side?” Eowyn appeared at the opposite end of the room, and gasped. Wormtongue looked back at her and smiled a sharped tooth smile. “What will Eowyn do without her brother, or her sister in law. You cannot afford to be banished.”

“Stand back,” you whispered as he grew closer to you. 

“I will banish you, unless you submit to me. Do as I say, and as I want, and you shall be saved.”

“Rot in hell,” you said through clenched teeth. He pushed you to the side and you fell to the ground. Eowyn tried to come for you, but he stopped her. 

“Traitor! Guards! Get her out of here!” Men who were your friends came into the room, and hesitated for a moment when they saw you. “Throw her out!” They picked you up and you didn’t fight. Instead of throwing you to the ground, they set you down carefully outside.

“Eomer rode east. Find him.” They left you a horse and a few provisions and fled. You mounted your horse and rode towards Eomer. You hoped that Eowyn would be okay alone. You rode through dark, and only stopped around midday when you absolutely needed to sleep.

You rode for days, and were starting to wonder if you would ever find him. You laid down to sleep on the third day, cloaked by the woods, and prayed that you would find him soon. 

When you woke up, you heard the sniff of a horse, and sat up. The sun was shining but it was blocked by a figure standing in front of you. You reached for your blade, but the large figure put his boot over it before you could. Panic started to fill your body, and you jumped up. 

“Y/N, love, it’s me.” You stepped to the side and let your vision focus until you saw Eomer. You gasped and threw your arms around him, never being happier to see him. However, a moment later you had never been angrier with him.

“How dare you not tell me you were banished!” you said, pushing him away from you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, I was pretty worried when I woke up and you weren’t next to me like you promised.”

“I’m sorry, my love. I did what I thought would keep you safe. I never thought you would come after me.”

“Well, I did want to come find you, but that’s not the only reason I’m out here.” He tilted his head and looked at you in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

“I confronted Wormtongue. He told me what happened to you, and said I would be saved if I submitted to him.” Anger flared in Eomer’s eyes, and he clenched his fists. “I refused, he accused me of treason, and banished me.”

“You’re banished? What about Eowyn?” You sighed and shook your head.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,’ he said, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on top of your head. “I shouldn’t have left either of you with him.” You cuddled into his chest, and let him hold you in his strong arms.

“Now that I’ve found you, though, we have to fight,” you said. He held you at arms length and shook his head. 

“No, we need to get you somewhere safe.”

“Not until we free your uncle and sister.” He sighed, but the slightest of smiles crept across his face. 

“You truly are the best of wives and best of women.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him. He hummed and moved his chapped lips against yours. “We can spare a few moments, can’t we?”

“Yes,” you said, letting him guide you until your back hit a tree. His hands cupped your cheek as he tenderly pulled you into his lips.

“Never submit to anyone.” You shook your head and closed the gap, feeling his body heat melt with yours. 

“Never. I love you.”

“I love you.”