#this is actually what faramir was doing after the war

[torchwood-99]

"her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on"

I love you Gandalf. He just gets it.

The sexism that blighted Eowyn's life, that came from the hands not from enemies but loved ones, reduced her and cut her down to fit her into a box, until Eowyn didn't even feel like a person anymore. And Eomer, when it's spelled out to him, goes back and looks at their life together differently, and realises the wrong that's been done to her.

She was a tool, something to be leant on and used, to provide support for the men's desires and the men's ambitions and the men's glory, with no will of her own.

Her family loved her, but they saw her as what they would have her be, viewing her through the lens of what they believe women to be instead of seeing Eowyn (and women as a whole) for herself, instead of recognising her as her own being with own merit and skills.

It's that thing of sexism not only making women less equal, but less human.

They are a tool, a service. They are a monolith, a group assigned to perform certain roles, valued for performing those roles (to an extent) but not actually individuals, with individuals thoughts and hopes and skills and dreams. Not to the same extent as men.

And because these are the roles they're meant to serve, there's no injustice, no tragedy of lost potential and missed opportunities, because as women they don't have that potential and they don't need those opportunities.

It's no wonder Eowyn wanted to die in battle. Going to battle, riding out against the orders of all those who caged her in, that was her regaining control of her life, a life that seemed to be no life, because she was no real living person. Just a staff to be leant on. And in going to battle, when she has been told not to, in making a choice for herself, she reclaims her humanity. But she's been so broken down that she thinks the only way to avoid going back to being an object is to die in battle.

Faramir doesn't treat her like an object. He treats her like a person, one similar to him. He sees her worth and merit and he admires her strength and her deeds while also feeling compassion for her suffering. After Faramir meets her, he seeks out Merry, to try and find out about her, instead of making presumptions about her based on her sex.

Faramir bothers, he takes the effort to find out who Eowyn is, instead of deciding for her.

And Merry, who rode to war with her and also sees her who she is, helps. No wonder he and Eowyn, though parted by distance, remain great friends and Eowyn adores him.

But Eowyn doesn't just get a happy ending from having a man in her life who treats her decently.

Tolkien makes a point to have Eowyn not just declare herself as choosing to live to be Faramir's wife, it's not a case of unhappy feminist who wants to be like a boy but is finally happy when she "accepts femininity" and finds a good man to protect her.

She says she will be a healer. Faramir has spoken nothing of that. It's not a role he has chosen for her or he's taking on and she's going to do to help him. They will be married and support each other and share a life, but she will also be her own seperate person.

It's a role that she's chosen for herself, without orders or pressure from anybody else. A role that will put her strength and her wits and her stomach iron to good use, and means she won't have to wait until battle to feel alive. A role that is seen as a mark of leadership, for the greatest leaders in Middle Earth, men and women, are also healers.

This such an important arc, and it really is incredible of Tolkien to write it.

A woman who has had her own goals and skills overlooked in favour of how she can serve men, who has been kept locked in the home to tend to her family's needs with no relief or chance to go out and live life on her terms.

Who is beloved by her family, who are good people, yet still mistreated because sexism is just part and parcel of her world and even well meaning people take part in it.

A woman whose humanity has been diminished at the hands of her loved ones because of sexism and gender roles.

A woman who proves the naysayers wrong by riding out to battle, bringing along Merry who has also been left behind, and proving herself pivotal to the victory.

A woman who only finds hope for the future when she is ceased to be treated as a useful object, when she forges bonds with Merry and Faramir who don't see her as a staff for the men to walk on, nor a faulty one who keeps trying to run off on its own and needs to be brought back, but as an individual with her own hopes and failings and dreams and skills, not defined by what the patriarchy says a woman's role is.

A when she does find hope for life again, she does so not only in finding love and friendship and camaraderie, but in a vocation that will be her own, in a career that will give her own her role in the world, a role that is associated with leadership, and leadership in her own right, not as an adjunct of her husband's.

And this is how she gets her happy ending. From love (Faramir), friendship (Merry), understanding (Eomer, looking at Eowyn anew in the House of Healing) and through independence (becoming a Healer). This is how she gets a happy ending, because this is how she reclaims her personhood.

[anghraine]

On the one hand, I absolutely love the high tragedy of Denethor's arc in the book, think it's amazingly well-written, and that he is one of the most complex and fascinating characters that Tolkien ever wrote.

On the other, there's part of me that's also a little frustrated by how much it has to happen because Tolkien kind of wrote himself into a corner with the Ruling Stewards. He's insistent on a few things about them:

Their initial rise to power as perma-regents of Gondor was squeaky-clean. Mardil was a paragon of virtue, he tried to prevent Eärnur from getting himself killed, there were no clear successors, and retaining the regency prevented another Kinstrife and created a stable institution that would hold Gondor together for 900+ years after the failure of the kings.

They are a high Númenórean family descended from Elendil, even if they're not formally of the line of Elendil (for unknown reasons, but most likely because they're descended through women).

Denethor is notably very similar to Aragorn, in intellect, wisdom, stature, ability, even appearance. He is a towering and respected figure, and he and his sons are highly popular with their people (even with children).

Denethor's military tactics in the book are very good, and UT says Sauron hoped Denethor would be less prepared than he actually was.

Denethor is proud, unbending, and personally dislikes and distrusts Aragorn. He thinks Gandalf is using him against Sauron for now while planning for Aragorn to take power later (this is filtered through his pride but ... um, is he wrong?).

Faramir, now Denethor's last heir, is a fantastic if reluctant warrior and captain, a super special Númenórean throwback, and a thoughtful, intelligent, and wise person who is humbler than Denethor, but also established as wary about Aragorn.

Gondor formally rejected the claim of Aragorn's family before the Ruling Stewardship even existed.

What all this means is that Denethor, if alive, is someone who will never willingly give way to Aragorn. Denethor has legal precedent on his side, he is himself a perfectly good ruler from a long-standing, stable, legitimate ruling family and a highly capable military leader in war, he is liked by his people, and he even has a viable heir regardless of the personal strain between him and Faramir.

There's just no reason for Aragorn to take power that Denethor, as written, would find remotely persuasive. But Denethor is also too noble and capable and special for a power grab on Aragorn's side to feel right, esp given how destructive it would be in the middle of a war (as Aragorn acknowledges!). Despite the sparkly kingliness and mystical airs, this is fundamentally a dynastic dispute between two different houses descended from Elendil, based on the minutia of Gondorian and Númenórean law and precedent, and a fight over that is ... not the kind of story this is.

Denethor has to be driven to self-destruction by the plot so that Aragorn's rise can happen. It simply would not occur if Denethor was alive and in his right mind. Faramir has to be mystically healed by Aragorn so that his reservations will dissolve and he will voluntarily remove himself from the picture in a way that doesn't feel bad.

And both scenes are fantastic, and make sense for the characters. But I do feel that they kind of get steamrollered by the plot to make way for Aragorn.

The thing that makes that doubly fascinating, though, is that Tolkien didn't have to prop the House of the Stewards up so thoroughly. He could have written a version where the Stewards are inadequate or really sketchy or simply can't be compared to Aragorn's greatness and it's clear why they should be replaced by him and his house. Tolkien could have made this a lot easier for himself! And I do respect the more difficult and nuanced approach Tolkien took with the Stewards by making them genuinely impressive and noble and capable in their own right and not just cardboard-cutouts for Aragorn to kick over.

But, well.

[leahsflwer]

LOTR pref - Y/N being drunk and flirting with them 🫣🤪

Warnings: Not much Really.. fluff mixed with very light smut :)

LOTR characters x Reader 🌸

Aragorn -

At first he was laughing at you when you started drinking and just let you do you, but when you came over to him and started outlining his jawline he became panicked. As much as he wanted it he wouldn’t try anything while you’re drunk. So off to bed for you, don’t bother trying to say anything else because it will be a simple

“No. You’re drunk doll. Now sleep.”

Legolas -

He felt his fingers begin to tingle from the alcohol he was not used to. Only elvish alcohol was what he could take. But he was still slightly there to notice how drunk you got. You were a runaway elf, so you were used to running to different places and drinking different alcohols none like him. But he became instantly flustered when you sat on his lap and started playing with his hair. He just admired you with a smile and you both eventually passed out.

Boromir -

You never thought of him in a dirty way until that alcohol hit your system. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and it bothered you. But you couldn’t deny how good he looked and it helped you realised that you actually liked him. Making you confident enough to straddle his lap and kiss him. He would be shocked but quickly grin and melt into the kiss. Gradually pulling back and looking into your eyes.

“I’d kiss you again if you weren’t drunk love.”

Faramir -

You had your little pouch of goodies which secretly included little bottle of alcohol. Which due to the terrible state you were in with the war soon to be, you drank it. Faramir noticed you drinking and sat beside you, taking it a having the last amount for himself. But he wasn’t expecting you to grab his chin and make him look at you. You complimented his eyes and he got flustered but just laughed and thanked you for the drink.

“Now we should sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us darling.”

Merry -

He was dancing like a maniac with Pippin and only stopped when he was exhausted, leaning on the wall and closing his eyes as he laughed, trying to bring himself back together. Only to feel hands cupping his cheeks. He got shy when he saw you looking at him. You wanted a kiss and your eyes said it all but Merry knew it was was odd. But he was drunk as well so he also had a side that wanted to.

“Be careful Angel. I might have to ignore my mature thoughts and kiss you if you keep staring at me like that” he chuckles.

Frodo -

He was immediately flustered and confused when you gave him a back hug. Your lips placed a warm, yet soft kiss on his neck. It sent shivers throughout his body. You were only slight taller than him, but he liked that. Turning his head to look at you just shyly smiling, trying to laugh it off like he was all good and not panicking inside.

“H-Hey! It’s a fun.. ah.. party?” Shy king

Pippin -

Pippin already noticed how drunk you got and saw you checking him out as he danced. So right at the end he made the move by pulling you onto the table and kissing you. Merry laughing and everyone else clapping. You were drunk and were the one however to try and continue the kiss after you both got off the table. You grabbed his hand and took him to a private area, but Pippin didn’t care he kissed you until Aragorn showed up and asked you to the get a room. Cringing and ruining the moment making you both laugh.

Sam -

He was so sweet and kind. Not knowing how to feel when you started being all affectionate. He enjoyed it but was confused by it coming from you who was usually stubborn and nothing like that. He just panicked and talked about the first thing that came to his mind. Blushing anytime you got closer to him.

“Ah.. potatoes.. are- what are you! Potatoes I said.. they’re delicious, yes?”

Arwen -

She was just having fun with the group and smiled as you laid your head on her lap, playing with the lace on her dress. She loved how soft you looked in your drunk state. When you gently tugged on her dress and pulled her down to your level, she blushed and was fine until she noticed her father in the area and she shyly backed away and sat back up, shyly giggling.

Lindir -

You were a dwarf-human and he was not expecting you to actually enjoy elvish wine so much. But you did and he just admired you, leaning on the table and laughing at you as he swirled his wine around in his glass. Blushing when he felt your hand on his thigh under the table. Elrond was across the table from him and he would be in a whole lot of trouble if he got caught. He placed his hand on yours to try and stop you from moving at all. He definitely had a red face and was asked if he was alright by other elves.

“Yes. I’m quite alright Lord Elrond.”

[velvet4510]

“My Heart Will Go On” has been played and replayed so often that it’s commonly considered cliche at this point to associate it with anything outside of Titanic, to apply the beautiful message within its stunning lyrics and Celine’s angelic voice to another story or specifically another couple.

But I must admit how the song screams Tolkien to me.

The ages of the world go by, and even as things change and disappear, spirits endure. Elves fade from our world, but endure in the West. Dwarves and hobbits disappear from history, but continue on in the shadows where we can never see them. Men rise and prosper. All their hearts do go on.

And more specifically, look at all the Elves - Círdan, Elrond, and Galadriel especially - who persevere and continue to be strong after enormous personal losses and struggles and destructions. Look at how the Númenorean survivors move forward after the loss of their homelands and build new homes. Look at how the Dwarves never truly lose hope of regaining Erebor and Moria, and eventually do both successfully. Look at how the hobbits evolve after the Scouring, replanting the Shire to make it more beautiful than ever before, accepting a working class gardener as their Mayor and crafting new libraries and records. Look at how Tom Bombadil and Goldberry spend all the ages of the world living happily together in their little forest, regardless of what occurs outside their home. All their hearts go on.

Look at how Bilbo and Sam each lose the respective loves of their lives (Thorin and Frodo) but each move forward, opening up to new loves in their families - Bilbo finds joy again with Frodo, Sam finds joy again with Rosie and their children - passing on their stories to the next generation, and going off to find peace in the Blessed Realm. Their hearts go on.

Look at how Frodo loses so much of himself because of the Ring, but rather than lie down and die, accepts Arwen’s gift and sails West to seek the self-care and healing that he needs. His heart goes on.

Look at how Éowyn loses every parental figure she’s ever had, survives years of sexual harassment and oppression, goes through a depression, experiences the horrors and NDEs of war … and emerges stronger and wiser than ever into a new life of love, bliss, growth, and healing. Her heart goes on.

Look at how Faramir endures years of mistreatment by his own dad and the absence of his mom, loses the only family member who ever truly valued him, is touched by the Black Breath … and survives to flourish in a new position, rebuild a broken realm, and find true love. His heart goes on.

Look at how Legolas watches almost all of his mortal friends die, but chooses to move on to the place where he can endure and not fade, carrying all his cherished memories with him. His heart goes on.

It’s actually a beautiful thing to think about.

[nikosheba]

Okay but. you guys know this scene right.

i HAVE to talk about this.

because we’re so used to the beautiful way it’s cut. Faramir brings in the hobbits, he says to take them to Denethor, that he’s sending a “mighty gift.” But shit goes down and he thinks better of it and lets them go. This is intercut with Sam’s magnificent speech about Some Good In This World That’s Worth Fighting For and the victory at Helm’s Deep and Isengard being obliterated by Ents. 

but

the thing is

if you cut out the other scenes

and JUST look at what’s happening in Osgiliath

this is what happens word for word:

Faramir: Take them to my father. Tell him Faramir sends a mighty gift. A weapon that will change our fortunes in this war. Sam: Do you know why your brother died? He tried to take the Ring from Frodo! After swearing an oath to protect him, he tried to kill him!* The Ring drove your brother mad. Scout: NAZGÛL! Frodo: [walks slowly up a bridge to stare at a Nazgûl] Sam: [tackles him] Frodo: [draws Sting] Sam: It’s me. It’s your Sam. Don’t you know your Sam? Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam. Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. They kept going because they were holding on to something. Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam? Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for. Faramir: I think at last we understand each other, Frodo Baggins. Madril: You know the laws of this country, the laws of your father. If you let them go, your life is forfeit. Faramir: Then it is forfeit.

OKAY. SO. Being intercut with the other scenes REALLY gives this one a boost because I didn’t realize how weird this is until this most recent viewing which has to be like my 40th time through. 

Faramir has made his choice and then he sees Sam tackle Frodo and make a nice speech and then he says I think we understand each other Frodo Baggins???? What EXACTLY has this taught him about Frodo that’s worth ALLOWING HIS FATHER TO EXECUTE HIM (according to this nebulous “give me the ring or else” law Denethor supposedly has in place)???? Like he just sees Frodo being wet and pathetic at Sam and is like “hold on I have to rethink my entire life”?????? He genuinely goes from “Take them to my father, I’m sending a mighty gift” to “AH NOW I UNDERSTAND” in 5 minutes and explicitly seems to understand FRODO after hearing Sam make a speech at him??

how did I never notice this before it’s driving me crazy i’ve been thinking about this for 6 weeks

* Asterisk because Sam, one, you don’t actually know how Boromir died so that was a weird power play, and two, if we know that Faramir ALSO doesn’t know how Boromir died it occurs to me that it kind of sounds like Sam is saying, “Yeah, I did it, I stabbed your brother for coming after Frodo and I’ll stab you too, Legs.”

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

The Fire Inside

Summary: Éomer is back in Minas Tirith a few years after the war, getting ready to help Gondor again with the ongoing clean-up after Sauron. But his life has changed and so have his feelings about war and warrior culture, so he needs Éowyn to help him talk it out.

Context: I love spending time with Éomer and Éowyn, and I hope this shows the affection between them and how Éowyn’s perspective (and some of Faramir’s) continues to inform Éomer’s understanding of the world. I’m interested in the way that they’ve both been really reckless with their lives in the past (her in the attitude she had when going to war, and him in the book after he thinks she’s dead and he kind of goes berserk and charges into a really bad situation) and how that echoes their own ancestry, given that one of the only things we know of their dad is that he was so passionate about fighting orcs that he rashly rode into an ambush and got killed. Now that both siblings have had more experiences and their lives have changed, I expect they would view their past actions quite differently now.

Content warning: Beyond a reference to the courting of death, there’s an implied history of miscarriage in Éomer’s marriage. My own relationship to pregnancy is v. complicated and that tends to pop up now and again in what I write, but I understand why other people might want to avoid that. (And for those who like to know there’s a happy ending, you can find in some of my other stories the proof that Éomer has a daughter, and his wife names her Sigewyn (“joyful victory”) in acknowledgment of their struggle to get there.)

**********

The greaves slid easily over Éomer’s shins, and he bent down to fasten them tight. The motion was so familiar, so ingrained in his memory, that he no longer needed to look or even to think about what he was doing. His fingers moved on their own to find and secure each buckle–one behind the knee, one at mid-calf and one above the ankle–while his mind wandered back over the many miles to his home, back to his wife and the last words she had whispered to him as he prepared to ride out. Those words played over and over again in his ears, and when his fingers finished their task he remained frozen in place, still listening to the loop of his wife’s voice. By the time a knock at the door returned his attention to his current surroundings, he wasn’t sure how long he had been stooped there, half-armored and adrift in a sea of thoughts and emotions.

“Enter!” he called over his shoulder, expecting Freaward to help him with the last few pieces of his gear. He stood and ducked into his mail coat, but, as he pulled it over his head, the hands that reached up from behind to free his hair from underneath the collar were not Freaward’s. He caught one, strong but graceful, in his own hand and knew in an instant who it belonged to.

“Éowyn!” He turned and pulled her immediately into a tight embrace. “What are you doing here? Aragorn told me that you were still in Ithilien.”

“Did you really think my big brother would come all the way to Gondor and I wouldn’t find a way to see him?” She put an affectionate hand to his cheek and then turned to the pile of his armor, rust red leather over iron plates bearing the device of the House of Eorl. She picked up the breastplate and spaulders. “And if you’re going to ride off into danger again, then I will see for myself that you are properly equipped.”

She set to work covering his chest and shoulders, a task that was normally performed by the young men still in training to become full riders. He couldn’t help but smirk a little as she positioned, buckled and tightened each piece. “Other men may rule bigger kingdoms or have greater wealth, but what other man can say that he has an actual princess of Gondor as his personal squire?”

She narrowed her eyes and reached down to yank on a strap around his ribs, cinching it so tightly that he doubled over and a grunt escaped his lips.

“I take it back,” he wheezed. “I’ll stick with Freaward. What he lacks in age and rank he makes up for with a kinder hand.”

She laughed and let go of the strap, stepping back to appraise her work. After a few small further adjustments, more gently executed, she handed him his vambraces and took a seat while he secured them in place.

“Now, brother, before you are called off, you must tell me how things are at home. How is my lovely sister-in-law?”

Warm blood ran to his face and ears, and he felt his heart thumping beneath his breastplate as he pictured Mereliss once again, her eyes shining brightly with happy tears. He shook his head lightly before looking up, aware of his awkward pause. “She is well, as always. She works hard, and you would be proud of the way she rules. She follows in your example as a woman of Rohan to be reckoned with.” His words sounded unnaturally rushed even to his own ears.

“I am glad to hear it,” Éowyn said, studying him carefully. “And yet, your manner suggests there is something more that you are not telling me. What is this look on your face? I cannot read it, but I see it clearly enough.”

He turned away belatedly, but there was no hiding now from what she had already seen and perceived. He would have to tell her something, either the truth or an invention to put her off. The truth was supposed to remain a secret, but…she was his only sister. His only close remaining relative of any kind, in fact. And he had always been a terrible liar. He cleared his throat.

“Just as I was leaving, Mereliss told me…Well, she had just confirmed…”. He pictured her again, gently placing his hand on her lower stomach. “It seems that she is expecting.”

“Oh, Éomer!” Éowyn leaned forward to grab both of his hands, squeezing them between her own. “I’m so happy for you both! There are no better tidings than a new baby–and possibly an heir for your line!”

He smiled and returned the squeeze. “Definitely an heir for my line. Boy or girl, this baby will inherit the crown.” He laughed lightly at the surprised expression on her face. “I thought you might appreciate that change. If it’s a girl, she will owe her title to Aunt Éowyn’s good influence.”

She beamed at him for a moment before the smile dropped off her face and she swatted at his arm. “You scoundrel! You had joyous news to share, and yet you made me pry it out of you? What if I had not asked?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry. It’s just very fresh, even to me, and Mereliss says it is too soon to tell others.” Indeed, though he had thought of nothing else since leaving Rohan, he had not told another soul. Instead, he turned the revelation over and over in his mind, alternating between elation and disquiet.

This was not the first time he had received such news from his wife, but each of the other times had ended only in pain. In waking late at night to find her huddled somewhere, bleeding and in tears. In walking into a room and seeing immediately by the haunted look in her eyes that something had gone amiss again. Their happiness seemed always destined to be heartbreakingly brief, a short, private journey from joy to grief. This time, her kind heart had attempted to shield him from the possibility of more disappointment by keeping the news to herself, enduring many weeks of nervous anticipation, doubt and uneasiness on her own, until she felt confident that things were different at last and that their happiness was here to stay. The joy and relief he felt were deep and profound, but now he found himself with pain of a different kind: the pain of missing even a moment of something he had waited for his entire life, something that had repeatedly slipped out of his hands but now seemed to be finally in his grasp.

Éowyn knew none of these details, but she could clearly sense that he had more to say and she waited patiently for him to share whatever weighed on his mind. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I should be happy, and of course I am. This is something that we have desperately wanted and struggled for, more than you know. But I didn’t expect to be separated from her as it happened. Leaving loved ones behind to carry out a duty is never easy, but it has also never been this difficult. My body is in Gondor, but my heart is still in Rohan.” He shrugged helplessly. “It cannot be otherwise.”

“Of course not. Nor should it be. But you will be back to her soon. This separation is only temporary.”

He grimaced. “I hope that you are right. I’m here to fulfill my oath–the oath of our people–and I am proud to do it. But something inside feels different now. A little off.”

“What do you mean, ‘off’?”

“It is hard to put into words.” He picked up his gloves but did not put them on, fidgeting instead with the leather seams. “Fighting is what I have trained for and done my whole life. Sitting in a saddle with a sword in my hand has always been comfortable to me. Enjoyable even, at times. But it suddenly doesn’t feel that way now. I am uneasy, feeling the pull of home so much stronger than I ever have before. The charge of excitement that I used to feel on the eve of battle is gone. The fire inside me smolders rather than burns. And I worry that if I have lost that fire, if my sharp edges have dulled, I may find myself at the wrong end of a spear before I know what has happened.” He looked up, stricken. “I would not have my child grow up without its father, as you and I did.”

She sighed and took his hand again. “Éomer, our father died because he had too much fire in him. He let his fire direct his actions, and he took risks that should not have been taken. He was reckless with his life, and he lost it as a result.” She paused, looking off into the distance at some past event that replayed itself before her eyes. “I have done the same. Been reckless, I mean. At best, I treated death with heedless disregard; at worst, I courted it directly. I was only lucky not to meet our father’s same fate. My fire, as you call it, did not protect me. I lived despite it.”

Her words struck him hard. She spoke of her own experience and yet he heard himself clearly in the description. His mind went back immediately to the siege and that little hillock by the port in Minas Tirith where his fury and his battlelust had driven him so deep into the Haradrim’s position that he found himself utterly surrounded by foes and preparing one last desperate shield wall, doomed to fail. Had Aragorn not arrived in the harbor at that exact moment, he knew well what would have become of him. He passed a hand over his eyes, as though to wipe away the image. He could not let something like that happen again. He would not. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Of course I am. Believe me, I have thought much about this. In the Houses of Healing, I thought of little else, and Faramir and I have discussed it often. What makes a great warrior is not enthusiasm for war itself. It isn’t acting from excitement or rage or ambition or revenge. It is having something to fight for and committing yourself to doing what is necessary to protect those things and to return to them.”

He looked up and smiled. “I certainly have things to fight for. Now more than ever.”

“And that is why you’re going to be just fine. Loving your life is a much better motivation than loving to fight, and it will keep you safe in the end.”

A horn sounded outside, the clear call bouncing off the stone buildings and walls of the city and echoing on for several seconds. The time for departure had come.

She picked up his helmet, smoothing the long, flowing horse tail at its crest, and held it out to him. He took it with one hand while the other reached around her shoulders and drew her in for another embrace. She squeezed him tightly and then looked up into his face.

“Be brave, but be smart. And I’ll be here to unbuckle all that gear when you return.”

He kissed her on the forehead and headed out the door, helmet in hand. She watched as he strode down the hall, tall and strong. Just before turning out to the courtyard where his horse awaited him, he looked back and saw her watching. “I’ll be back soon,” he called to her.

She raised a hand in farewell. “I know you will.”

[fangirl-erdariel]

If you were given the job of 'showrunner of a show about Faramir' what would you do?

Oh that's a fascinating question, thank you! I will freely admit that I don't necessarily consider myself the most knowledgeable person about Faramir or the best at writing him even in my immediate fandom circle, so this is unlikely to be anything particularly groundbreaking or interesting, but I'll give it a shot

I think, since you've not given me specific limitations on when in the timeline this will be set, and that I would go for a show that focuses on Faramir in the months leading up to Boromir leaving for Rivendell, ending with that event. Not that a show about him in the times after the War of the Ring wouldn't be fascinating, but I don't think it's something I'd be very good at writing. And I'm not necessarily interested in following the story through the events of LOTR, either. So, like I said, following Faramir in the times leading up to the event that basically ties him and Boromir so tightly into the events of the story.

Wouldn't be a very long show, obviously, with that sort of time frame, but I'm a firm believer in deciding on the limits of the story you want to tell and narrowing it down to something you can manage, before starting to tell it. (Let's ignore the fact that I don't actually do that irl when I write fanfic, I just sit down and write and see what happens; the imaginary me who is a showrunner of a tv show is obviously more organized than the real life me anyway.) Not everything needs to be ten seasons long. And you could still get a full-length season or two out of even that premise, I think.

I would probably go for a somewhat episodic problem-of-the-week format, but with some overarching themes and plotlines developing across the whole show. I can't off the top of my head give you a list of episodes or their synopsis (how do you pluralize that? synopsis? synopses? synopsises? why is English so difficult), but, you know, most episodes probably focusing on the various troubles of leading the soldiers in Ithilien, one episode focused on the planning of an attack on an enemy troop that will be moving through, another of "how the f*ck has the enemy been managing to constantly mess with our supply lines that we thought were secure and how do we stop them from doing that", maybe one of the classic "there's a spy among our midst but who is it??" plot, one where Faramir has to handle a bunch of young inexperienced soldiers who are either uncertain or too reckless and eager to pursue glory and probably going to get either themselves or other people killed if he can't get them to get their act together. And so on and so forth, I'm sure you get the gist. Probably mix it up sometimes and have some episodes set in Minas Tirith, maybe a couple bringing Faramir on some errand to more southern parts of Gondor, too. Ithilien episodes would probably have elements of military drama, Minas Tirith episodes elements of political drama.

I think the second-to-last episode of the show would have the first time Faramir has the dream that'll send Boromir to Gondor, and would have the attack on Osgiliath and that whole thing. And the absolute last episode would be just focused on the dream and what to do about it, and would see Boromir leaving on his journey.

I think one thing I'd explore a lot would be the differing ways that other characters see him. Both in terms of the relationships with his family, the way that he is a beloved little brother to Boromir but always the less capable and worthy in Denethor's eyes, but also in terms of outside that family circle. Like, we see in the books that he is adored by the people, and that he is greatly respected by the soldiers under his command, he is a captain they are glad to follow, a skilled leader who is able to keep troops from panicking and retain good order even in difficult, chaotic situations.

And then, going off of that, how does all that compare to the way Faramir sees himself? How does the place he is appointed by those around him fit, or not fit, what he himself would want to be, if he could choose? Even people who love or admire you can still view you in ways that aren't entirely true, or treat you in a way or put you in situations that you find constraining or poorly fit for you, and I think playing with that with Faramir could be interesting. I think I might go for making one of the conflicts carried through the show be that while Boromir loves Faramir, he doesn't always quite treat him as a responsible adult and an equal, but a little brother to be protected and watched over and helped, and for all that Faramir also loves Boromir, it's still frustrating. And though Boromir does insist on being the one to make the journey to Rivendell because he's older and stronger and doesn't like the idea of Faramir going off alone on a long journey to the unknown, it is still in some ways also an admission on his part that he trusts Faramir to be responsible and clever and capable enough to be in charge of the lives of soldiers and of various duties Boromir has that will fall on Faramir in his absence, without Boromir's constant oversight and being always somewhere near enough to come to his aid.

Besides that, I think I would like to incorporate hope and despair as one central theme, seeing as it's also so very central to LOTR. Also, this isn't anything about deep themes or being clever or whatever, it's really just self-indulgence, but I think I'd like to incorporate songs and poetry the characters actually sing and recite into the story. Just, like, whatever, military marches, funeral laments, narrative stuff sung to pass the time, people competing on who can most accurately memorize some tricky poem just for the hell of it, all that. Like, Middle-Earth just has music so intrinsically bound into the stories and it's an aspect of the books I really love, but so few adaptations incorporate it much at all! (I am tooootally not jealous to my mom because she got to see the 1988/-89 LOTR play that actually included a bunch of the poems from the books set to music, totally not, why are you asking)

Also, can we cast Luke Pasqualino as Faramir? No particular reason except that I think he's pretty

Geez, that got long ':D Idk how much sense any of that makes, but, hey, thanks for giving me an excuse to ramble!!

Out of curiosity, if you were given the same job of being a showrunner for a show about Faramir, what would you do with it?

[southfarthing]

Character ask OBVIOUSLY FARAMIR

If someone's already asked about him, then Éowyn :)

EOWYN IT IS!!!

one aspect about them i love

Literally everything. I self-project on her a lot but man she's...... her struggle feels so real. And it's just so important to me that she overcomes it, that she finds joy, that she gets to live her life 🥹💛

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

(Snatching her away from the girlboss fans) she didn't go to fight to be cool!!!!!!! to be like "oh if men can do it then i can do it better"!!!!!!!! she literally went to die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! because she'd rather die with some valour than hide away until death found her eventually!!!!! she wanted some meaning in this life of hers that felt so helpless and doomed!!!!!!

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

She has a happy, fulfilling life. I genuinely believe this with all my heart and it gives me hope. The hills of Emyn Arnen are green like Rohan's, but the paths are lined with colourful flowers and fragrant herbs. She rides her horse, studies hard, brings her findings to Minas Tirith. She and Faramir sit together in the shade of a large tree, she drawing detailed sketches of healing plants and Faramir writing something that he keeps dramatically hiding every time she tries to look. They're both grinning.

one character i love seeing them interact with

FARAMIR. basic answer i know. also eomer!!! and merry 🥹

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

I've been meaning to write a fic about her and eomer post-war for a while actually! hopefully when i finish this re-read. just... there's so much to talk about that they haven't...talked about. at all. and sibling issues really get to me man

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

1. She and Lothiriel get on great. She likes Arwen and they are friendly but they never really click, but that's ok. 2. When she and Faramir tell Merry that they're engaged and that Eowyn wants to learn about plants and healing, Merry almosts bursts with joy. He consults Sam, and they work together on a quick book with notes on plantcare etc. Merry adamantly sneaks in some rather unnecessary parts about pipeweed ("I love to smoke too, Mr Merry, but I don't think that's what the Lady Eowyn was after?" "It's important, Sam, I promise.") They leave plenty of pages blank at the end that can be filled in later.

[lesbiansforboromir]

Boromir and Faramir in the films are such comical characters when looked at from a certain angle. Like on the face of it they've got this terrible father who's driven mad by power hunger and a paternalistic need to continue his bloodline, so he disparages his younger son for some reason and supports his golden child eldest, okay, awful... but when you look at the actual actions of his two sons... HE'S KIND OF RIGHT!

Like Gondor is still definitely at war with Mordor in the films, no matter how much worse at it they are than in the books, BUT whilst Boromir is there they're doing things like winning entire cities back from the enemy AND Somehow defending themselves AGAINST the enemies apparently holding Osgiliath beforehand which is literally right next to all their farmlands AND WITHOUT EVEN THE RAMMAS BETWEEN THEM??.. Boromir makes a speech with such blatant optimism and such weirdly frivolous priorities like 'lets retake all the cities we have lost and make music and beauty in them again!' it's the speech of a pretty victorious country, not a country 60 years into a war of attrition where the measure of success is 'how much can we delay our inevitable defeat'. And the Steward even PERSONALLY arrives in this just-won warzone- like! the confidence the Boromir-lead Gondorian army has is unbelievable.

And then Boromir leaves... and everything absolutely falls apart. The the chronological next update we get about Gondor's situation is that Osgiliath is EASILY taken (almost immediately after Faramir arrives from Ithilien which begs the question why were you hiding in the woods if an attack was so imminent and how were you taken so unawares), the entire garrison is routed and sent fleeing madly and haplessly back to Minas Tirith and most of them are either killed on the way or killed during the first attack (which sees Faramir running about dazed with clearly no real knowledge of where most of his men are or what they're doing, needing to be literally saved from traps his subordinates create independently without his knowledge.) Faramir even shouts 'Nazgul' as though they definitely are already very accustomed to these creatures and yet still have no way to combat them apparently!

And then Denethor's like, retake Osgiliath! Which, whilst in the moment seems mad, if we're running on what BOROMIR accomplished, is a completely reasonable request! Faramir is like 'Osgiliath is overrun'- it was when Boromir retook it too! But what does Faramir do with this request? Accepts it as a death sentence and does NO PLANNING whatsoever. Literally eleven year olds with no prior military experience would be able to tell you that charging cavalry at a city WITH LINES OF ARCHERS is the most useless asinine action possible, but that's what Faramir does! And in the end he gets ALL THOSE MEN KILLED because of it!

So looking at it all this way... we've got a head of state (who's a pretty normal guy, not especially brilliant at ruling and struggling with the pressures of his responsibilities) his heir and eldest son who's this savant style military leader who was essentially the load bearing rock which was holding up the entirety of Gondor's sub-par military prowess and whom his father is relying on for essentially everything at this point, and the youngest fail-son brother who's only skills are #1 firing bow #2 telling others to fire bow at the right time and #3 looking sad. Literally IN the extended edition conversation, apparently Faramir lost Osgiliath THE FIRST TIME TOO, LIKE THIS IS TWICE THIS MAN HAS ALLOWED THIS FORTRESS TO BE BESIEGED AND TAKEN IN IT'S ENTIRETY!! WEST AND EAST OF THE RIVER!! Faramir makes this excuse like 'we had too few men' and everyone believes him but given Denethor's DERISIVE reaction at that and what ELSE we see of Faramir's military prowess, IT DOES SOUND LIKE AN EXCUSE TO ME. Even Boromir is like he TRIES to do your will, as in 'dont be mean to him he's doing his best!' Denethor's like 'dont trouble me with Faramir I know his uses and they are few' and Boromir has NOTHING to say against it cus he knows he's right!! Of course Denethor would only be able to trust Boromir to go get the ring,

Gondor's film!situation is an entire country of sub-par dudes plus Boromir who apparently was born with every single braincell the rest of them are lacking and whom has a VERY REAL UNDERSTANDING that literally everything is up to him to fix 'He looks to me to make things right and I will do it' who else is going to do it??? Certainly not Faramir!! It's so funny, no wonder he's so emotionally fragile and desperate for Aragorn's approval, he's just looking for ONE SINGLE OTHER GUY whose halfway competant to work with here. They didn't give him the 'Gondor wanes you say but Gondor stands and even at the end of it's strength it is still very strong' line because it narratively would have been a complete lie.

[tolkien-feels]

No please tell me more about your Eowyn is the Beren to Faramir’s Luthien agenda 🥺

I will try to keep this short but I predict I'll fail.

Okay so, the core of it is that there's a very, very strong theme of winter turning into spring that is repeated in both stories, in very similar ways. I would dismiss it as being a fairly generic metaphor, except, check this out

[Beren] did not fear death, but only captivity, and being bold and desperate he escaped both death and bonds; and the deeds of lonely daring that he achieved were noised abroad throughout Beleriand, and the tale of them came even into Doriath.

Which should bring to mind

‘. . . I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.’

‘What do you fear, lady?’ he asked.

‘A cage,’ she said. ‘To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.’

It's not just that, though. It's much more prominent in the poetic Lay but Beren's reaction to the massacre of the Outlaws is described in very similar terms to Eowyn's arc. After burying his father in an unmarked grave and shouting promises of revenge, we're told

And then [Beren] turned, and did not weep:

too dark his heart, the wound too deep.

Out into night, as cold as stone,

loveless, friendless, he strode alone.

Almost each of these words actually has a matching passage for Eowyn in LotR, but it'd make this post too long to quote them all. But she's described as "a figured carven in stone" on the same chapter as she expresses her anguish over always being left behind - actually, the very scene where Aragorn offers her pity rather than love or even friendship, and she stands alone. And of course, that Eowyn doesn't weep and seems made of ice is such a recurring theme I don't even feel like I have to give you a quote.

When Beren first meets Luthien, he begins to cast away some of his despair almost immediately

A night there was when winter died;

then all alone she sang and cried

and danced until the dawn of spring,

and chanted some wild magic thing

that stirred him, 'till at last it broke

the bonds that held him, and he woke

from dreaming deep and cold despair.

The very first time Eowyn speaks to Faramir, this happens

She did not answer, but as he looked at her it seemed to him that something in her softened, as though a bitter frost were yielding at the first faint presage of spring. A tear sprang in her eye and fell down her cheek, like a glistening rain-drop. Her proud head drooped a little.

There's also a whole thing about how Luthien comes to Beren again and again, not unlike Faramir who has Eowyn walk with him in the garden. But that's pretty circumstantial.

More interesting I find a different parallel. It's too long so I can't quote either, but it's just before Eowyn and Faramir learn the war has been won, and in the Leithian, it's the beginning of Canto IV (iirc). There's a whole discussion of fate and darkness both times, and both Beren and Eowyn raise the possibility that maybe they were wrong to have hoped for the return of light.

What is even more interesting, though, is the extremely similar body language:

. . . she came

at the sweet calling of her name;

and thus in his her slender hand

was linked . . .

Which is mirrored by

And as they stood so, their hands met and clasped, though they did not know it.

And then also this

her arms about his neck did go,

and gently down she drew to rest

his weary head upon her breast.

Which, while not an exact parallel, reminds me a lot of

And he stooped and kissed her brow.

Like. Any one of these parallels could easily be a coincidence, but there are so many, that if Tolkien wasn't consciously making a parallel, he was at least thinking of similar concepts.

I'll also point out that when Beren and Luthien get together after their death and everything, they retire to "Tol Galen the green isle" and Beren nopes out of any further Great Deeds™️ and instead

. . . the Land of the Dead that Live became like a vision of the land of the Valar, and no place has been since so fair, so fruitful, or so filled with light.

Which should bring to mind

‘I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun,’ she said; ‘and behold! the Shadow has departed! I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren.’

Also, I couldn't find anywhere to include this, but both Faramir and Luthien walk a fine line between being kind and merciful and being unflinchingly brave and strong to the point where they're dangerous if pushed.

It's not exactly that Faramir and Eowyn parallel Luthien and Beren in the way Arwen and Aragorn do, it's more like... How to explain it....... It's almost like Tolkien gave Arwen and Aragorn the Leithian story arc and Faramir and Eowyn the Leithian character arc. More or less.

......I should shut up about it because I promised I'd be brief. But as you can see I'm very normal about this

[middleearthpixie]

Promise Me ~ Chapter Seventeen

Summary: Friends since childhood, Gabriella has long held back her feelings where Boromir is concerned, as she did not want to risk losing his friendship if he didn't feel the same. But, then he is summoned to Rivendell, and the night before he is to leave, he stuns Gabriella by confessing his feelings for her as well. 

But, war is coming and he cannot put off what he knows must be done. All Gabriella can do is wait for him and pray for his safe return. 

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Gabriella

Warnings: makeup sex 

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag List: @sotwk @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls @doctorwhump @kmc1989

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Boromir heard Ava long before he saw her and he swallowed an oath as he hurried toward Faramir’s room. Fortunately, he made it without being seen, slipping around the corner of the doorway before she caught sight of him.

“Slinking about, are you?” Faramir asked dryly.

Boromir made a face at him. “I’m hardly slinking.”

“It looks just the opposite, to be honest.”

“Well, it isn’t, so let’s let the matter drop, shall we?” Boromir sank into his usual chair. “How do you feel?”

“I’m feeling much better. Perhaps you might help me talk Ioreth into letting me return to my own chambers.”

“I could.”

“I would appreciate it.”

“Father’s funeral is planned for the day after tomorrow. But, I would understand if you were not up to attending.”

“I will be there.” Faramir offered up a knowing look. “Gabby was here earlier.”

“Was she?” Boromir tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the mere mention of her name. She’d been on his mind all morning, and he’d planned to go on down to the tavern well before it opened and actually sit down and talk with her. 

“She was, indeed.” 

“And how is she?”

“Perhaps you should talk to her yourself and find out.”

“I would… I am, actually. In a bit.”

“I see.” Faramir’s eyes narrowed sharply. “You look tired, brother. Did you have a late night?”

“I’ve not been sleeping of late.” Boromir reached up to rub his eyes, which were every bit as tired as they probably looked. “Why do you ask?”

“Merely out of concern, is all. You should go and talk to Gabby now. Before it’s too late.”

“Did she tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Tell you what we fought about?”

“No. I asked, but she had no desire to discuss it with me, which I understood and let the matter drop. But, if you wished to tell me…”

“I don’t. It’s none of your concern.”

“No,” Faramir said around a yawn, “I don't suppose it is. Although, you are being an absolute ass.”

“Take care, little brother,” Boromir replied evenly, “for you know nothing of the subject.”

“Don’t I? Tell me with a straight face you have not been in love with her since we were all but children.”

“I’ve made no secret of that. Least of all to her.”

“Is that so?”

“Faramir, is that anger I hear in your voice?”

“It is, indeed anger. And you are an idiot for this, Boromir. Do you know who was also in here this morning?”

A sense of apprehension crept through him. “How would I know that?”

“Ava.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and? Isn’t that enough?” Faramir’s normally calm, tranquil eyes glinted with anger. “How great a fool are you, that you would throw over Gabby for that… that harlot?”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t with Ava.”

“Is that so?” Faramir countered. “For she seems to think otherwise.”

“What?” Boromir’s gut kinked sharply as he shook his head. “What did she say?”

“It wasn’t what she said, but how she said it and the way she said it indicated you spent last eve enjoying yourself with her.”

“What?” 

“Are you telling me you weren’t with her?”

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t with anyone last eve.”

“Really? Because Gabby went to your flat this morning and she said you weren’t there. So, where were you?”

“I was at the river.” Irritation flared in Boromir’s roiling belly as he raked a hand through his hair, then shook his head. “I sat here with you, until well after you’d gone to sleep and she came in here, invited me to her flat for a drink and I said I could use one.”

“Boromir.”

He scowled at the scolding in Faramir’s voice, but was having none of it. “Let me finish, if you don't mind. I said yes, but then, as we were walking back to her flat, I changed my mind. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be with her. So, I thought to go down to the Half Moon and have it out with Gabby for once and for all. Only, when I arrived there, all the lights were out and I didn't want to disturb her and make her furious all over again, so I went instead to the river to think. And that’s where I was. Sitting on a bloody rock until my arse went numb and my back ached and now she thinks I spent the night with Ava, of all people?”

“Ava wanted her to think that, so yes. And she was really quite smug about the whole thing.”

Boromir’s gut kinked so sharply for a moment, he thought he might actually be sick from it. “So, Gabby thinks that I spent last night with someone else.”

“Well, look who finally caught up.”

Boromir groaned aloud, letting his head thunk against wall behind him as he closed his eyes. “Oh, bloody… are you joking? Please tell me you are.”

“Why would I joke about that? And not only does she think you were with someone else, said someone else apparently thought to rub it in Gabby’s face as well.” Faramir’s voice was low and serious. “You need to go and speak with her. Now. Before any more time passes.”

“She is going to be furious.”

“Probably.”

“And she won’t believe me when I tell her I wasn’t with Ava.”

“Probably not, no.”

“So, how do I find my way out of this one?”

“In all honesty, I’m not even certain how you found your way into it. What did you do?”

Boromir lifted his head. “I made the mistake of assuming she wanted children. And I might or mightn’t have told her it was more or less her job to do so.”

Faramir just stared at him in wide-eyed horror for a good thirty seconds before growling, “You are an idiot, Boromir. I hope you know that.”

“Oh, yes… I do indeed know it,” he replied softly. “And that was why I was sitting on the rock last eve. Much as I would like to have little ones of my own, I also want to be with Gabby. And now she thinks I was with another woman…”

“Go and talk to her. Before you waste any more time, too.”

Boromir sat forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “She will never believe me.”

“There’s only one way to find out, though. And that is to face her.” Faramir made a shooing motion with both hands. “So, go and talk to her. How many more times need I tell you this?”

Boromir stood. “All right, all right. I’m going.”

“Good luck,” Faramir called as Boromir moved toward the door. “And do not mess this up!”

Boromir rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I’m not trying to.”

Faramir said something else, but Boromir didn't quite hear it and did not take the time to stop and question him. A sense of urgency pushed him to hurry along the corridor, his need to get to Gabby and clear everything up between them nearly throttling him. If she thought he’d slept with Ava…

He didn't want to think about it.

Then the choice was snatched from him as he rounded the corner and walked smack into the very woman he did not want to see.

She slammed into him, her arms going about his waist as she gasped, “I beg your pardon—oh, good morning.”

He caught her by the forearms to untangle from her. “Why would you let anyone think anything happened between us last eve when you know full well you went home alone?”

She peered up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You saw Gabby this morning, didn't you?”

The innocent faded as a darkness flashed through her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you could mean.”

“Of course not.” He stepped back. “Stay away from me. Stay away from Faramir. Stay away from Gabby. Is that clear?”

He didn't wait for her response, but stepped around her and kept walking. He felt her eyes bore into his back, but ignored the heat as he descended the staircase and strode out into the downpour. 

The icy rain bit into his skin as it soaked through his shirt, into his hair and his trousers, and he paid it no mind as he hurried along the cobbled street down to the first tier. The Half Moon tavern stood on the corner, its ground floor windows still shuttered. He moved around to the side of the whitewashed building, where a narrow staircase led to the apartment above the tavern and he took those stairs two at a time.

He hesitated at the top, dizzy from the exertion of quickly ascending the staircase mixed with the frantic pace of his heartbeat and combined with his churning gut. Black dots danced before his eyes as he stared at the door and he steeled himself for her fury as he rapped on it. The wind picked up, whipping his wet hair about his face. The wet strings stung his cheeks, his forehead, and with no little impatience, he shoved it away from his face.

Gabby’s face appeared in the window and at first, her eyes went wide. But then they narrowed, so he called, “Wait, Gabby, please… let me in, won’t you?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“I know, but—” Thunder rolled ominously overhead, a lightning bolt slicing across the sky in its wake—“please, just hear me out.”

She moved away from the window and his gut kinked sharply as another bolt streaked white against the evil black clouds. But then, the lock gave and she opened the door to glare up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because, I did.” He gestured to the rain still pounding down upon him. “I owe you an apology. For what I said the other night, for the way I suggested your sole purpose is to bear children, for—”

“For rolling about Ava’s bed with her?”

“I did nothing with her, Gabby. I promise you, I didn’t.”

“Really?” Gabby’s eyes narrowed. “Because she seems to feel that you did just that. And when I went to your flat this morning, you were not there.”

“No, I wasn’t.” He shook his head. “Because I was down at the river, sitting on a rock, trying to figure out how I make this all up to you. Please, may I come in?”

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes pewter and cold as the rain still soaking into him. His gut churned as he waited for her to slam the door in his face, as her eyes suddenly shimmered. “She led me to believe you were with her.” 

“I know.” He nodded. “But, I wasn’t. I promise you, love, I wasn’t.”

Her eyes slowly swirled from pewter to silver and she stepped back. “Come in.”

He squished into the kitchen, and bent to tug off his wet and muddied boots. “May I have a towel or something so I don’t leave puddles?”

She closed the door behind him, then moved to the counter, to pick up the dishtowel, which she passed to him. “You were on a rock?”

He nodded, draping the towel over his head to rub his hair as dry as he could. “I was on a rock. I used to go down to the river when I was a boy,” he draped the towel about his neck and smiled at her, “especially when I was in trouble for something, and I’d sit on one of the rocks and just watch the water until I thought it safe to go back home. As I grew older, I went there to think. To make decisions that didn't come easily to me.”

He met her gaze. “To figure out how to make up with my woman when I’m the reason she’s angry with me to begin with.”

Gabby arched one delicate brow. “Your woman?” 

“You mean, you aren’t?” He took a step closer to her. “I was wrong, Gabby. That’s all I can say. I should not have assumed anything and I should definitely not said it was your job. It was a stupid thing to say, for I know you are much more than that. And while I would like children, I want you more.”

As he spoke, he caught her hands in his and paused, waiting for her to pull free. To his relief, her fingers curled about his, her thumbs brushing the backs of his hands. He gave them a squeeze. “I love you, Gabby. I have loved you since I was but a boy of sixteen and I will continue to love you until I draw my last breath.”

“Boromir…” She stepped closer, and his heart skipped a beat as she pulled her hands from his to ease her arms about his waist. “Are you so certain that would make you happy?”

“I know being away from you makes me unhappy. I know that just the thought of losing you makes me unhappy.” He caught her face in his hands, tilting her head to meet his eyes. “So, if I have to choose? I’m choosing you.”

With that, he bent to her, covering her lips with his. Her fingers tightened on him, her lips parting to offer him an invitation in, one he readily accepted, letting his tongue sweep teasingly along hers. She responded in kind, his blood warming as she eased her hands beneath his damp shirt, her fingernails grazing along his equally damp skin. 

He slid his fingers into her hair, tangled but soft, and shivered as she swept her fingernails up toward his shoulder blades, dragging his shirt up as she did. He broke his kiss to brush his lips along the smooth line of her jaw, down along the slope of her neck. 

Her head lolled to the side as he moved down into the curve of her shoulder, her whispered, “Boromir,” causing every sinew in his body to tighten.

He pulled back. “I love you.”

Her eyes swirled silver as they met his. “I love you, too.”

He swept her up in his arms and spirited her—albeit with some squishing—to her bedchamber, where he bent to set her gently in her bed, and then, even more gently, came flush against her.

She wrapped around him, tugging him closer still as she wound her arms about his neck and their lips met in a fiery kiss he felt clear through to his soul. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, tugging it slowly up over his back, and he pulled away just enough to allow her the room to draw it over his head. It fell into the shadows alongside her bed, and he couldn't hold back his soft moan of pleasure as her fingernails brushed along his skin once more. 

He drew back, smiling down at her as he whispered, “I will be careful with you, love. I give you my word that I will.”

“You don't have to be,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I’ve had time to think as well, love. And perhaps a baby wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.”

His heart skipped another beat. “Are you certain? I meant what I said, if you do not wish to have them—”

“I’m certain.” Her eyes softened, which did the strangest thing to his insides, made them fluttery and melting at the same time. “I think you would make a wonderful father, you know.”

“I dreamed of it,” he whispered, his arms trembling slightly from the exertion of holding himself away from her. “When I first returned here, when I was in the Houses of Healing, hovering being living and dying. I dreamed of us with a little boy and you were expecting again and I’d never seen you look so beautiful.”

She reached up to sweep his hair away from his face, her fingers lingering along his temple, grazing his cheek to leave a hint of warmth in her wake. “What did he look like, this little boy?”

“He had your eyes,” he murmured. “Your beautiful, unusual eyes.” 

“Why do I think he looked like you otherwise?”

“I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. He would look like you, of course.” Her eyes glittered as they held his. “And I do like this dream, Boromir.”

With that, he gave in to the need to come flush against her, the warm softness of her body so heady against him, cradling him as he captured her equally soft lips in a slow, lingering kiss. The heat from her palms against his back sank into him, her kiss ignited the embers of desire for her that never truly left him, and as those embers glowed to life, as they spread the arousing warmth through him, his trousers grew tighter. He thrust against Gabby, the relief sweet, but short-lived. Still, despite the fiery desire taking root deep within him, he did not want to rush. Instead, he wanted to simply savor every moment of being with her. 

Her fingernails scratched harder against his skin, sending a shiver along his spine and bringing a gasp to his lips. His entire back tingled from her touch. His eyelids grew heavy and sleepy. 

He broke their kiss, moving once more along her jaw, down her neck, into the deep vee of her tunic. He shifted his weight to one arm, and with his free hand, tugged at the silk cord lacings to part the cotton wider. 

Her head fell back, her breath hitching as he swept a kiss along the front of her neck, as he dipped his tongue into the hollow at its base. He moved lower, teasing and tasting as he bared her skin.

He moved down, away from that sensual heat between her thighs that beckoned him like a siren, feathering her cool, silken skin with light and teasing kisses. A hint of lavender teased his nose, as heady as the sight of her naked would be, as he crept toward the inner curve of her left breast. 

Her tunic slipped over that rise to bare her breast entirely and he smiled at the sight of her rosy nipple puckered in invitation. He flicked the aroused bead with the tip of his tongue, smiling as she sucked in a hard breath. Another flick, and her soft moan teased his ears, made him harder still. 

He caught that bead between teasing teeth, swirling his tongue lazily about it. Her back bowed, her fingernails sank into his skin, and she murmured his name in a husky, breathless voice.

He took his time with her nipple, flaying it with short, rapid flicks. Soothing it with those slow passes. He sucked hard at it, nipped gently at it. And as he did so, he slid his free hand up to cup the one still hidden beneath her shirt. A gentle knead had that nipple beading as well, and when he shifted to her right and caught it through the cotton, her breath left her body in might rush.

Warm cotton grew damp beneath his tongue. He shifted his weight again, his now-free hand slipping down along the curve of her hip, to the fastenings on her trousers. They gave without trouble and as he slid his hand beneath the linen, he smiled at the wet heat greeting him. His fingers slipped through that dampness, his thumb brushing the sensitive knot that had her gasping as her hips bolted toward him. 

A breathless moan bubbled to her lips, and the sight of her, eyes heavy-lidded, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip as her hips rolled slowly to meet him fired his blood, fired his arousal, made him ache for her as he’d never done before. He wanted to keep teasing her, wanted to make her feel sensations and pleasure she’d never before experienced. He slowly circled that knot, let the pad of his thumb sweep over it, lightly at first, but then harder with each pass. 

She rocked to meet each stroke, to meet  his rhythm as she moved with him. He bent to her, his lips seizing hers, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth to dance with hers. Her fingernails dug into him, her hips arched toward him, she shivered against him as he brought her closer to the edge.

He slid a finger inside her then, a low moan rising to his lips as she tightened about him. Each stroke was slow and deliberate, her body trembling beneath him. He took his time, savoring each pulse of her about him, smiling as she broke the kiss to whisper, “Oh, yes…” as he found that small spongy area and focused on it. 

She tensed, dragged her fingernails up toward his shoulders as she clung to him, and when he eased his finger free, she whimpered in protest.

He smiled, pressing a hot kiss into her lower stomach as he caught the waist of her trousers to shove down over her hips. The fabric skimmed easily along her legs, then joined his shirt in the darkness on the floor. 

A hint of crushed wildflowers teased his nose as he bent to her, nuzzled the damp blonde curls between her thighs. Those thighs parted, and he met her, sliding his tongue through those curls, around that knot. Her thighs pressed in against his ears, until as he could hear was the roar of his own blood and thunder of his own heart.

She grew slicker beneath him. Sweeter with each pass. She arched to meet him, her fingers now threading through his hair, where they bent and twisted and held on as she moved with him easily once more.

He teased her slowly, savored the scent of her, the taste of her, the way she responded to his caresses, his strokes, the way she shivered when he flicked gently at that bead, and the way she moaned when he suckled at it. She trembled, his name a husky, breathless whisper on her lips.

He ached for her, his body humming with the need to fill hers, to surge deep, and not stop until they both reached that blissful summit together. She was so close, slick and smooth and hot, throbbing around him, tugging hard on his hair as she whispered, “Please…”

It was the finger he slid back inside her that pushed her over the edge, that shattered her as she came in a flash, gushing hot and sweet over his tongue, writhing beneath him as she shuttered and cried out, “Boromir!”

He drew out her climax as long as he could, not letting up until she sank into the mattress before arching away from him. Her hands slid from his hair, down along his shoulders, and as he surged up over her to seize her lips again, she yanked open his trousers and thrust a hand in to wrap about him.

Her first stroke was very nearly his undoing. He shivered against her as fire flooded him, as everything inside him rolled over with the heated rumble of thunder. Boromir arched hard into her grasp, his arousal silkening her hand to make each thrust smooth and delectable. 

Then she shifted, guiding him to her. He breached her. Thrust. Surged deep. She gripped him, tight and hot all around him. Each thrust made his head spin a little more, made his body tense a little more, made the white hot burn of desire that much stronger. 

He rose onto his elbows, his thrusts swift and hard and driving and when she wrapped her legs about his waist and arched her hips, he couldn't hold back his moan. “Gabby… oh, love… yes… like that…”

She rocked with each thrust, driving him deeper still. His climax bore down upon him, the knots tight within him beginning to fray. Every muscle burned with the need to come, the pleasure engulfed him, hot and sweet, and as he went over the edge, he crushed her close, surged deep, and shuddered with a low moan. He tensed against her, trembling from the force of his release, his heart threatening to burst inside him, everything tight and stinging and the pleasure was unlike any he’d ever felt. Dots danced before his eyes, his breath was impossible to catch, and as he finished, he sank against her, his heart thundering against his ribs. His eyes closed of their own, his head coming to rest in the slope of her neck, her scent of vanilla and lavender a balm as they washed over him.

A soft laugh reached his ears and her arms tightened about him. Gentle lips grazed his temple  as she whispered, “Oh, my… that was… oh, I’m actually dizzy…”

He let out a breathless laugh, his eyes still closed, his breathing still rapid and uneven. “I am, too,” he confessed. Then, he managed to lift his head, gazing down into her beautiful silver eyes as he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He sank back against her with a sigh. “I can’t move.”

Her laughter caressed his ear. “I do not wish you to. In fact, I think you should never move again.”

“I won’t argue that.”

Her fingers brushed along his back, making the delicious drowsiness that often came in the wake of climax even more appealing. He relaxed against her, whispering, “Let me know if you cannot breathe.”

“I’m fine. And you are not going anywhere.”

“No, I am certainly not,” he breathed. But, even as he said the words, nature took over and he slipped from her warmth, so he forced his eyes open, lifted his head, and whispered, “I stand corrected. I’ll be right back.”

She winced as he moved off her and when he went to the kitchen and returned with a towel, she accepted it with, “This part, I could do without.”

He smiled, sinking onto the edge of her bed once again. “It was worth a bit of mess, though.”

“More or less.” She looked up at him and winked. 

“More or less?” He couldn't hold back his grin. “I’m fairly certain you were not left wanting, were you?”

“And you were?” she countered, her silver eyes gleaming.

“I didn't say that, but I’m also not the one who said more or less, either.”

“Oh, did I bruise your feelings?”

“Yes, actually.” He turned away, shifting to plant his feet on the floor. “I should probably leave because you are so insensitive.”

The bed shifted and he grinned as she came up behind him, draping her arms about his shoulders and pressed her breasts firmly into his back. “Oh, let’s not be hasty, now. Surely there is some way I might get you to stay a bit longer?”

“You have a sharp tongue, you know. And I am rather sensitive.”

She pressed her lips into the curve of his shoulder, where it met the base of his neck and nothing could have prepared him for the sensation that ran riot through him from that one, simple, almost innocent caress. “I will make it up to you, Boromir,” she murmured, her husky voice sending a shiver along his spine once more.

“How?”

“I’m certain I will think of something.”

Another teasing kiss swept along his neck. And then another. And she crept up toward his ear, catching the lobe between teasing teeth as she added, “And you will enjoy it.”

“Well, perhaps I might be persuaded,” he managed to whisper back despite the way his head had already begun to spin and his blood scorched its way to points south in his body. 

She pulled him back down across the bed. “I thought you might.”

[anghraine]

I got a comment a few days ago (which I'm too lazy to dig up, sorry, esp since its argument is made so frequently) about how Faramir's rejection of the Ring vs Boromir's fall is basically insignificant because he(Faramir) was around it for a brief time while Boromir had to resist it for a protracted period. I've seen that point made a lot, but I'm not convinced tbh.

For one, even if you only consider in-story details, it typically ignores the increasing strength of the Ring over time as it approaches Mount Doom. Faramir didn't have to face a protracted temptation, but he did have to face a more powerful one than Boromir ever did. How the length of time vs intensity compares is pretty debatable, but it's a factor.

But the dismissal of the contrast also just seems a plain resistant reading that ignores (or denies) the treatment of the two incidents by the overall narrative. You can do that (and probably should at certain points), but I think it's important to be upfront about it. The narrative of LOTR pretty blatantly treats Boromir's and Faramir's differing responses as indicative of their underlying characters and not simply a difference in length of exposure etc.

I don't think this is an indictment of Boromir's overall character; he's definitely a heroic person in general (much as Isildur was—the Ring's warping of heroic characters is a major aspect of its function and tragedy). But to argue that Boromir's fall has nothing to do with real flaws the Ring was able to exploit or that Faramir's rejection says nothing significant seems such a rejection of the narrative treatment that I'm just—nah.

And I am a Faramir stan, so my opinion might be suspect, but I do like Boromir a lot. And his fall to the Ring and reclamation of himself after make him much more interesting to me, personally and thematically, than he would otherwise be. Denying its significance to the function of his character and what the book is saying about attitudes to war etc is just ... blah.

Also, this is more headcanon, but I think it's important that in terms of the writing process, Tolkien came up with Faramir after Boromir's fall. Boromir's account at the Council revealing that the vision/riddle came first to Faramir and more often, with the clear suggestion that Faramir was the primary intended recipient and Boromir an acceptable replacement in the long run, was very deliberate. If there's no meaningful difference in the Ring's effect on them, then the reason for the preference for Faramir and active incorporation of him into the dream account becomes a bit baffling.

But the thing is, not just considering Faramir's rejection of the Ring but his overall character, I do think he would have been more suited to the stealth and grinding strain of the Ring than Boromir.

(Yeah, there are some plot complications w/ the alternate scenario, but I think those are pretty easy to overcome and far from an "all would be DOOMED, the dream-sender must have really intended for Boromir to be the one in the Fellowship" scenario.)

Basically, they are very different people, and in the canon scenario, the Ring reveals these differences in ways that are actually important to their characterizations and the concerns of the novel.

[frodo-with-glasses]

I was watching some LotR explanation videos the other day and they reminded me that Legolas moves to Ithilien after the War of the Ring! So, if you'd like, any friendship questions you think would make sense for Legolas and Faramir?

(I can't even remember whether they actually meet within the book itself lol)

Yooo, I didn’t know that! I probably read it a long time ago when I was a kid and didn’t realize the impact. That’s awesome! I don’t recall Legolas and Faramir ever properly meeting in the book either, but if I had to answer a friendship question…

3. “A random headcanon I have of them”

I think we can safely say that before the War of the Ring, Faramir had never met an elf. He speaks of them like things of legend and hearsay; “and elves are wondrous fair to look upon, or so ‘tis said”. He has no way of knowing for certain. He’s never met one. All he can do is echo what he’s been told from dusty old books in the Citadel library and Mithrandir’s stories.

And then—he meets Legolas.

Very quickly, Faramir learns that elves are wondrous fair, just as the stories had said—and that they are also very strange. Elves will run about on the wooded hills, breathing in the chill morning air and wetting their small shoes with dew, long before even the most watchful Man has woken from his sleep. Elves will speak of the figures of ancient legend with both reverence and casual familiarity, and will call all Men “children”—from the lad who’s only just learned to toddle on his pudgy little feet, to oldest, most gnarled grey-beard leaning on his staff—without a hint of condescension or irony. Elves will burst into song at the slightest provocation, and will run after eyes they see in the forest, and will gaze at crying gulls with a longing that words can’t describe.

But the strangest thing that Legolas ever did—and somehow, the most familiar—came as a surprise, when they’d been speaking for some time about the King and the future of Gondor, and Faramir had gazed pensively out the window and shared all that his foresight had to tell him.

Then Legolas laughed. “Truly, Faramir of Gondor was Mithrandir’s pupil! For it is the face and voice of a Man, but the speech is that of Wizards. I thought I had heard it for the last time long ago. For that wise speech has passed away, far, far over the Sea, to be heard by no ear again, unless—nay, nay! I shall not speak of it. But this is a merry meeting!”

Faramir couldn’t find the words to answer that. The conversation soon drew to a close, and Legolas disappeared into the forest again, with only his singing voice on the wind to prove he’d ever been there at all.

Mithrandir’s pupil, Faramir thought to himself, and he smiled.

Far away, if he’d only been there to see it, the setting sun glittered golden on the surface of the western Sea.

FRIENDSHIP ASK GAME!

[afaramir]

hiiii denethor anon here!! wow you’re really IN IT now (denethorposting). not to add more fuel to your anger but last week i saw someone say they hated denethor. and i just realised god they don’t get him even on tumblr do they. since then i’ve been silently fuming in rage. anyway… i am very Very Intrigued by both your faramir-goes-to-rivendell-au and denethor-thorongil relationship (if you ever want to write another 800 words about this, i am here for it 👀) and this line “each of them sharpens himself upon the whetstone of the other…” fuck. fucking insane actually.

unfortunately i won’t be replying for several days (i’ve had to keep my phone in another room to keep myself from getting distracted) . my exams have started AND i’m going through some shit irl :( it’s alright tho i’ll have more Faramir and Denethor Hours soon <- chanting this constantly haha. but i am with you when denethorposting IN SPIRIT okay. oh and can we please please please have denethor december? 🙏 bye will be here soon after my exams (that will be after the 23rd march i’m afraid)

hiii denethor anon <333 i am SO sorry this is so late truly attempting to figure out how to write AND see my friends AND do things like clean my apartment and go to the grocery store while working The Job...it has eaten my life. and this week my regular coffee shop switched their hours bc i live in my old college town and they are on spring break and it has sent me directly to hell. the death of My Routine…i have coped by INCESSANTLY denethorposting on tumblr dot com. i am somehow EVEN MORE in it than i was when you sent this ask. i hope you enjoy me being truly crazyinsane whenever you get a chance to look at all those posts lol. would love 2 hear your thoughts on them. but ANYWAY as always it is so lovely to see you, i'm sorry things have been tough but truly with my whole heart i bestow upon you the strength of denethor's sixty-year psychic war (with none of the associated madness) to make it through. looking at the date i hope you are free now.

here is the mandated readmore because i have never met brevity in my whole life. u said write another 800 words and i took that as a challenge um this post is like 2000 words. well...back on my bullshit

i mean this with all the love and joy in my heart but i laughed so much. no my dear friend they do not get him on tumblr. they have not gotten him on tumblr from the beginning. if you have been spared the incessant tomato jokes i truly…[crying] I Wish I Were You So Bad. this guy doesnt even know about the tumblr denethor slander (POSITIVE) (YEARNING). its the trenches out here for real. i just live in my little bubble with me and you and like four other mutuals/Denethor Understanders and that is it.

speaking of denethor and the rivendell au. i miss the days when i was working on the faramir-in-gondor scenes. emotionally it felt like dying but i kind of knew what was going on. now i am in rivendell taking and failing this history of middle earth exam. and i am so very….the next time we see denethor for real is in return of the king. now girl…how will i survive another 80k words. i miss my boy my dear darling my tortured victim of the narrative. and according to the paragraph i just wrote faramir does too but is Refusing to admit it to himself<3

im also RIDICULOUSLY torn on how i want to resolve his arc. now just between you and me. and anyone who bothers to click that read more. I DONT WANT TO KILL HIM I WANT HIM TO LIVE. GOD I WANT HIM TO LIVE. I WILL WRITE YOU A THOUSAND HAPPY ENDINGS. except its not a happy ending its a you are not allowed to die you are forced to contend with your choices you must keep living ending. because he will always be tragic no matter what. but its ALSO a you can rest now you can be at peace son of gondor you have won your war. all you sacrificed has been worth it. you have given your all when that's what duty asked you for and it has been enough. and that makes my poor heart weep.

like on one hand the idea of resolving his storyline with faramir.......the opportunity for some kind of reconciliation, some kind of understanding between them...god. delicious. i know in my heart that faramir comes home and IS the lord that denethor once dreamed of being. not playing at it...he is high and lordly and gentle and the world bends around his will and he knows exactly what to bow to and when to stand his ground and his powers are honed to a keen edge that he uses with the utmost care and. AUGH. he walks into the citadel the IMAGE of his father. it makes me feel FERAL. and how would denethor react to that. man.

BUT ON THE OTHER HAND HOW DO I END THE STORY. like. LOL. do u know what i mean. likelihood of me being able to just have a triumphant coronation and tie it all up with a bow is soooo small. the narrative contortions i would have to go through. to have denethor accept that and still be in character. Girl....no thank u <3 so we havent worked THAT out yet. like how much of the madness and despair do i want to put into the narrative. We Shall See. IM not politically savvy enough to get real into the weeds with it all so im kind of rotating just. a beautiful set of reunions with the fellowship. eowyn and faramir get engaged. boromir and faramir see all their dreams of a gondor restored come true. we skate over the political minefield and deeply navigate the beginnings of denethor and faramir's relationship in this new world. and among it all, within it all, is hope, and a new dawn. and curtain.

i got distracted but re: we are in rivendell. it IS kind of fun to think about the themes and narratives. i am pushing my Let Faramir (And Denethor) Be Numenorean + Let Numenoreans Be Weird agendas so so sooo hard and i am having the time of my life with that specifically. birds follow him around and pick up the tunes he sings. he hears the voices of the people he loves in his head. he falls into a river and after having a breakdown about it promptly decides that The River Is Testing Him And He Has Passed. he gets to rivendell and INSTANTLY knows that there is someone Very Like Him Here (its elrond. the elrond-elros-faramir connection has me FROTHING at the mouth. faramir looks at elrond and sees his father and sees every statue of elros in minas tirith and Knows that this here is the son of earendil, gil-estel, his brightest north star. elrond looks at faramir and sees his brother, his dear dead doomed brother, and every numenorean descended from him and all their sins and all their glories and yet, kind as summer, sees beauty and knowledge and a strange quiet man who carries all the weight of his country on his shoulders and yet knows him, knows the legends; perhaps the blood of numenor is not yet spent in the south)

i just think that Every Elf that meets faramir along the way is like woah...hold up. there's something up with THIS guy! men ARENT supposed to do that! not anymore anyway! galadriel is Lowkey Threatened by him. and isnt that beautiful. woman who could be queen of the earth sees god's special chosen boy and goes hang on a minute. Fuck. i think they work out their shit by the time the company leaves lothlorien but like...just thinking about how faramir lowkey blamed her for boromir's death in rotk! idk how their dynamic is exaclty gonna manifest but there's definitely some sort of similar mindreader2mindreader tension!

AND. um the idea of faramir travelling with the fellowship discovering that maybe...well. he has never wanted to be a warrior but he has been honed into a blade anyway. by his father and by necessity. and perhaps for the first time in his life...outside of gondor he does not need to be all that. he can be mithrandir's pupil without censure he can be scholarly and witty and cunning - he is all these things, in gondor. but there he has to be them, and now he can discover that yes, this is what he wants to be. and he has never let his father and the expectations of his position STOP him but there is always a weight, there is always the knowledge that your actions are disapproved of, and being away from that for a while is i just think. really good for him. see above re: he comes home the image of his father in a gentler time. keep honking im sitting in my car crying about denethor ii twenty sixth steward of gondor.jpg (<- my greatest creation PLEASE click the link lol)

ALSO IM THRILLED YOU LIKED THAT WHETSTONE LINE LOL i kind of blacked out when i typed it on the page. i think truly the crazy thing about denethor and faramir is that they SHOULD understand each other. they know so much about each other and yet are so incompetent at actually putting it to any good use towards, you know, improving their relationship. faramir is incredibly emotionally intelligent AND can read minds AND has taken so many of what he probably views as denethor's worst traits and turned them to gentler uses. (im talking about his powers but im ALSO talking about that thing he does when he encounters frodo and sam where he plays woe is me my brother is dead and i miss him sooo much to get on their good sides. yes of course he misses boromir more than anything else in the world. no he is not above using it to his advantage. and we see the SAME THING when gandalf and pippin come to minas tirith. hey isn't it crazy that both of them use boromir as a. manipulation chip. even after he's dead. hey thats kind of fucked up actually!) and denethor is…well denethor is denethor. ok im mostly messing around and thought that sentence was funny. i think he Knows most everything that goes on in faramir's head and yet Wilfully Chooses to interpret it in the worst ways because its just soo....very I Thought I Raised You Better Than That/I Honed You To Be My Blade Stop Defying Me. and despite all that the Problem is that they understand each other right up until they don't. they know how THEY feel about each other (incredible love that they can only express in the worst ways/think they're expressing only to be spurned by the other) but cannot POSSIBLY imagine that the other feels the same way.

ive gone on for SO SO LONG ALREADY LOL but. what do i have to say about denethor and thorongil. not enough and too much all at once. they're so toxic and awful for each other they're MADE for each other they're beautiful narrative parallels they're homoerotic besties they're bitter rivals they're pawns in a proxy war they're locked at all times in a psychic psychosexual situationship. um the enemy of my enemy is kissing me with tongue. idk i have more symbolism and actual analysis especially of the denethor-ecthelion-thorongil Issue. but we are just getting into it. so i will start with the situations bc i have two angles for this. on one hand i do think it is very fun if they constantly homoerotically circle each other for years and years and never do a THING about it. like...this is a stitching up wounds wiping blood off each others faces battle couple/situationship situation that THEN turns into a ridiculously high functioning political rival partnership bent together over books long into the night catching each others eye in council meetings using their very real disdain for each other for Manipulation Purposes and getting uh. SO hot over it. like.....Do You Know What I Mean. just. truly unresolved sexual tension THROUGH THE ROOF. it DELIGHTS me. they are always putting themselves in situations. and then NOT making out about it. AND THEY CAN READ EACH OTHERS MINDS!! THE WHOLE TIME!! SO THEY KNOW EXACTLY HOW MUCH THEY WANT EACH OTHER AND STILL ARENT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT!!! like thats just really good. but on the other hand.......the idea of just an absolutely terrible beautiful toxic rivals with benefits codependent situationship. i hate you so much and you know what we DO need to make out about it. every time they fuck it is a power play and they are having SO much fun with it. they will both start arguments with each other (AND IN PUBLIC TOO) just so they can fight and make up. the mind reading...Oh You Know What I Mean. taylor swift voice we had this big white city all to ourselves we blocked the noise with the sound of i need you and for the first time i had something to lose! logically thorongil is not yet in his grubby ranger era but the idea of him being dirt smeared all the time and hanging out with prim proper polished denethor. in the fic (which does exist and DOES follow the second model) theres a scene where hes just chilling with his head in denethor's lap and denethor is actually rather delighted and devoting ALL of his copious braincells to pretending not to be. Man. well never say im not a slut for contrast. and now the rest of what i could say is simply straight up redacted for indecency so it is time for this post to be over. the last thing i have to say is that it absolutely ruins denethor's life forever when thorongil up and leaves. sometimes a situationship....anyway. MUCH LOVE TO YOU AS ALWAYS yes we will have denethor december i already have an url saved.

[random-jot]

Top 15 Current Favourite Movies Tag

Tagged by @smalltownfae !!! Thank you 😸

Fair warning, this is gonna be a long’un, but here we go, starting with the top spot:

1. Jurassic Park

Dinosaur kid gang rise up! Everything about this movie is so good, as a kid I loved it because big dinosaurs make brain go brrr, growing up I grew to appreciate the direction, the cast, the storytelling element of it, the character arc of Alan Grant learning to accept the responsibilities of being a parent, with commentary on the dangers of abusing scientific progress and trying to subdue nature oh my god this movie is good. No wasted space in this movie as well, every single scene adds something, some other layer to it. God, remember when the Jurassic movies were actually about something? This movie absolutely rules.

2. The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring

You do not have to follow me for a long time before realising I FUCKING LOVE Lord Of The Rings, I grew up with these movies and rewatching them - especially this one - feels like coming home. The attention to detail, the care taken in adapting Tolkien’s work, the cast, the insanely-good-for-the-time special effects (I’m talking about the Balrog sequence, not so much the Elrond’s floating head bit) the goddamn score? Howard Shore went off. These movies will always hold a special place in my heart. Buckle in, ‘cause you might’ve guessed what the next two are gonna be.

3. The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers

What can I say here that I didn’t say above? Well, I love the new characters we get; Treebeard, Faramir, Éomer and Éowyn, et al. The way this movie takes time to really demonstrate the impact of Saruman’s warmongering and devastation; the Two Towers is a war movie disguised as a fantasy movie. I adore the further development of Merry and Pippin’s character arcs, forcing the two seemingly most dependable members of the Fellowship into a situation where they have to fend for themselves, allowing them both to grow. Helms Deep. Just, all of Helms Deep. And of course the absolutely incredible performance of Andy Serkis as Gollum/Sméagol is just the cherry on top of it all.

4. The Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The King

C’mon, you knew this was coming. This is one of the earliest movies I really vividly remember seeing in cinemas, feeling the sheer excitement of it all as the New Line Cinema logo fades in. The emotional payoffs in this movie are second to none. “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you” “Are you going to leave me? No Merry, I’m going to look after you” “I am no man” “My friends, you bow to no-one” “I will not say do not weep for not all tears are an evil.” Pippin’s growth as a character is incredible and not talked about enough, and the way that Frodo returns after the war but knows he is so fundamentally changed and traumatised by his experience that he can never truly return to the life he once had and aaaaaaaaaa i just really fucking love Lord Of The Rings!

5. Spider-Man (2002)

“I had a father. And his name was Ben Parker.” It’s more than just nostalgia goggles on this one; was Tobey a bit too old to play a high-schooler? Yes. Did Raimi take some artistic liberties with the source material? Sure. But do Tobey and Kirsten have amazing on-screen chemistry? Yes! Does this movie accurately reflect what Spider-Man is all about at its core? One hundred percent!

6. Spider-Man 2

It’s often said that the sequel is always worse that the original - this movie may just be an exception to that rule. It further develops all the characters in a really compelling way, especially in the bubbling conflict between Peter and Harry, but perhaps the most outstanding feature of this one is Alfred Molina’s turn as the villainous Doctor Otto Octavius. The tragic downfall of Dock Ock is one the most compelling parts of this movie, culminating in one of the greatest superhero fight scenes ever put to screen; that being the train scene. I won’t delve too deeply into behind the scenes drama, but it is something of a minor miracle that this movie was even good, let alone great, but here it stands: an iconic piece of superhero cinema.

7. Rat Race

“My grandfather used to say good things take time; great things happen all at once.” A change of pace here, no superhero’s or sci-fi antics, this is a balls-to-the-wall feel good comedy with an absolutely star-studded cast; John Cleese, Rowan Atkinson, Whoopie Goldberg, to name a few. I’ve never put on this movie and had a bad time, in fact no matter how many times I watch it is always elicits a good few laugh out loud moments that never lose their impact.

8. Kingsman: The Secret Service

This is one of few movies, in fact perhaps the only movie, that I walked out of after seeing the first time and thought, nay, knew ‘this is one of my favourite movies of all time’ and that sentiment has stayed true to this day. The church scene is of course amazing, but the movie is so much more than just that. This movie is a masterclass in keeping tension, a loving homage to the spy movies of old with an infectious new directing style and impeccable choreography, with both a licensed soundtrack and an original soundtrack that elevate the entire experience. I was on the edge of my seat the entire time I saw this for the first time, it’s got action, laughs, gadgets, style and substance in spades. It’s just a shame that the sequels did away with the substance part of that equation. I also maintain that this is the best James Bond movie ever made.

9. The Faculty

A more obscure cult movie, though surprisingly star-studded. This is the sci-fi horror counterpart to Scream, kicking off strong as it opens with The Offspring’s ‘The Kids Aren’t Alright’ and shortly introducing us to Casey, played by a pre-LOTR Elijah Wood no less! An unlikely group of teens team up to prevent alien parasites taking over their school and it is a gory and glorious rollercoaster ride of insanity. Like with Rat Race, I have never put this movie on and had a bad time.

10. Hot Fuzz

Absolute banger of a film. The jokes, the cast, the directing, this is undoubtedly the pinnacle of the Cornetto Trilogy, as well as being a Hoffman masterclass in foreshadowing. Edgar Wright’s unique directing style combined with the unstoppable chemistry of Pegg and Frost in the lead roles and boom! An iconic piece of British filmmaking.

11. Back To The Future

Speaking of excellent scripts, I think BTTF has one of the most tightly written screenplay’s in Hollywood, which is no mean feat for a time travel movie. Alan Silvestri’s score for the movie is fantastic, it is funny, it is tense, it is original, it’s just good.

12. Die Hard

I had heard much about Die Hard before ever watching it, and I had thought to myself ‘surely it can’t live up to the hype.’ Boy howdy, was I wrong. There is a reason this is remembered as one of the greatest action movies of all time; John McClane is a sympathetic and charismatic protagonist, but Alan Rickman’s performance as the villainous Hans Gruber is what really kicks this movie up a notch. An action movie with tension and real stakes, that doesn’t forget to still have heart and emotional stakes as well as physical ones. Die Hard is great. Also yes it is a Christmas movie.

13. The World’s End

Another one from the Cornetto Trilogy, and certainly the most underrated of the three. To be fair, it had big shoes to fill, but this is the one I find myself coming back to over and over. It is insanely funny, like it’s predecessors, has brilliant foreshadowing, like it’s predecessors, but where this movie truly excels is in the complexity of its characters. Watching this movie not as a comedy but as a character study of Gary King is where you’ll get the most out of it, watching the desperation of a man who is at his world’s end, desperately trying to cling to the past, to the last time he ever felt truly happy. The movie really takes on a whole new level when you realise that even before the alien robots attack, Gary never had any intention of surviving this night. The weaving of comedy and tragedy here is done to perfection.

14. The Truman Show

Speaking of tragedy, here is a movie that has aged like a fine wine, accidentally predicting many of the flaws and insidious aspects of Reality TV, which would rise to prominence in the following years. Your heart breaks for Truman as he comes to realise that his entire world, even down to his own friends and family, is completely fake, a facade constructed by someone else for the voyeuristic entertainment of others. This movie showcases Jim Carrey is so much more than a wacky comedic actor, but has the chops to pull off some incredibly dramatic and serious acting. This movie is excellent, and it inspired the music video for ‘If The World Was To End’ by Lower Than Atlantis, which is a fun bonus.

15. American Pie 2

Perhaps incongruous compared to my other choices on this list, but I’ll always have a nostalgic sweet spot for this movie - watching this series was a right of passage when I was growing up, and of all of them the second one was always the most feel-good, not to mention the banging soundtrack. It’s just a silly, funny movie that really makes you want to hang out in the summer with your friends. Another simple comfort/feel-good movie.

Tagging: @b-listbadboy @tazzypenguin @primatechnosynthpop @ifeelasongcomingon @meowtalhead @binders-and-beanies @blagueofchaos AND anyone else who wants to, go ahead just say i tagged ya

[heartsdefine]

i feel like addressing some fandom takes i've seen in the past that i feel are bad faith interpretations of éowyn's fate and/or choices at the end of the trilogy, simply because they've been on my mind and i want to get them out of the way:

éowyn gives up her dreams of battle/glory to be a wife/mother. ✦ first of all: she doesn't give up anything. by the time éowyn decides to lay down her arms in favor of a peaceful life, she has already experienced the heat and chaos of combat by riding with the rohirrim to the battle of pelennor fields, and achieved both glory and renown for her name by slaying the witch-king of angmar (with merry's timely assist). whatever she chooses to do after the war is over, she's already lived that dream. ✦ second of all: éowyn decides to give up a life of fighting in favor of becoming a healer specifically because of her experience on the battlefield. she decides, well before agreeing to marry faramir, that she wants to learn how to heal as she was healed, brought back from the black breath by a common weed in the hands of a king. ✧ choosing to lead a more peaceful life after finally experiencing the true horrors of war is an act of wisdom gained through trauma that has very little to do with who she later chooses to marry and start a family with.

and of course:

éowyn settles for faramir because she can't have aragorn. ✦ firstly: while i do believe éowyn's feelings for aragorn were real to her, i don't actually think they were that deep—at least, not that deeply in love with him. despite the attraction which aragorn tries very hard to side-step, i think that éowyn's extended interest in him stems more from what he represents to her at a time when she craves it the most: a life of battle, glory, and renown. ✧ éowyn wants access to the deeds and accolades her brother has been granted since birth, in part because it has been often denied to her for the sake of her womanhood. after she's had a proper taste of that life, smelt the sweat and the blood and the death, she decides it's not for her—and neither is aragorn, as high and lordly as he's become. he was always going to be out of her reach, and in the end she realizes she doesn't really want that either, anyway. ✦ secondly: faramir, by contrast to aragorn, does represent a very different life from the one that éowyn thought she always wanted (as seemingly embodied by aragorn). like éowyn, faramir desires a life of peace among his people now that peace for gondor is finally at hand. what he represents, ultimately, is the kind of life éowyn has already decided she wants to lead now that the worst fighting for middle-earth is done: a life of peace and healing. ✧ éowyn doesn't settle for faramir, she settles with faramir. not because she can't have someone else, but because she no longer wants someone else.

so yeah. i deeply disagree with both of these takes on éowyn's choice to lay down her arms and live a more peaceful life after the war of the ring or her decision to spend that life with a kind and gentle man. and that's all i have to say about that (for now).