wijopat

[wijopat]

Heeey ! Just wanted to take a moment and tell you how much I enjoy the things you write :) it's sooo appreciated! xx

Thank you so much! I took an extended Tumblr hiatus, might be back now. Can I ask what you enjoy the most?

[wijopat]

In search of Peregrine the tall, and Meriadoc the brave

Long ago there lived a pair of brothers, or brothers they seemed to me. Tall and strong, with all the vigor of youth in their smile and wisdom beyond their age in their eyes. I seem to have forgotten their names, my memory is of tree and root, not of muscle and sinew. I sent them south with my friend grey wise old Lord of Man and Elf. His name was something shorter, but in my memory he lives on in a glorious day, a time of battle and song, of wizards and kings and dark lords, of loss and victory… of promises made.

They were the kind of small men, or short ones. A name that is too short to describe what it was that made them who they were. They had minds of moss and flowers, of a warm home and a hearty meal, the minds of simple pleasure and hard work, of reward and forgiveness and purpose. They had faces that opened out on the world, like a doorway, a doorway that from within lay peace and rest and song. They had the earth hum of children, yet age in their voices like men. The day they left Angrenost I did not mourn the passing. It was not until the east wind blew and the sun passed into the land of shadow and the Dwarf-Elf company walked among my trees that my mind was again occupied with thought of lords and journeys. Journeys like the ones from long past when I last left the forest. I hear talk now of peace and safety, of kings men and strong roads, but the borders of my land are not what they once were, and this will be a long journey indeed. Hum hmm either way, off I must go. For I have hardly passed the mountain, and Fladrif has not answered my call, or the wind has blown it over the peaks, or a birds song has taken it off into the sea. Either way, I have not been hasty enough it would seem, for the sun has fallen on me too many times, and again I find the winter wind blowing around my feet and rousing my joints. I must walk among the trees if I am to find the Shire. “The Shire” I say to the trees I pass, but ever I walk, and ever they say “northward old Fangorn”. I have caught scent of men, and to avoid them I must walk around the mountain. Hum hmm I go, up over stone and hill. Snow would stop a lesser Ent, but I am the oldest left and strength yet resides in my roots, let no wind fell the tree that bends I say.

It has been a long walk indeed, the trees that dwell on the ever changing slopes grow short and die early, but they sang me onwards. “The Shire” I said, but of the talk of man they had not heard, and their reply was of warmth and of water, of sorrow, regret and of a land were life grew tall as I. Hum hmm I blow my call often now to keep the warmth in my trunk; my roots and branches turn and snap in the brittle cold and growth is slow this far from the Isen.

The mountain lost, and I won. Hah hmm if they were here to listen to my song of life breaking ice, of hands crushing stone and throwing off all that this world has left by way of death and anger, how they would shout. Not shout as I do, echoing off the trees and the sides of the mountains, nor call as a bird does, singing for himself, but shout. Shout as they do for each other, and call as if their world is in front of them calling back in tune. I have almost forgotten the joy of triumph, of victory. But down here, down on the side of the mountain I must rest, for walking can be hard with injury, and as strong as I am, the mountain still stands. I fear if I do not I will not find water like this from down the slopes for a while yet, and it will be no good to the ent-friends to arrive unseemly.

The “ent-friends” I now say to the trees as I pass, but there comes no answer. I lay on the slopes of the mountain for too long it seems, I felt the call of winter blow through my bones and the song of spring growth under my toes but for my life I slept, for warmth and strength I wondered a short distance, and forgot of my journey and purpose. Awakened by the cries of the trees around me, I heard tell of fire and men, hear the earth thrum of fleeing animals, and so moved on-wards knowing that I was unwelcome by all save the learners of the old lore who reside over the south range, far from where I walk. The king preserves Fangorn, but I am not in Fangorn no longer, funny as it may be to say; ho humm the Ent-friends would laugh at my sorts, the bandying of words and laughter was their sort, and though I had heard it often never had I learnt more of it than from my brothers.

What will I say to the ent friends of my journey ho hymm I think as I walk among forests, the trees here are younger than knowledge of me, and I find my going to be slow as I teach. But they will appreciate that ho hmm. Once I would have sat and told of our history for years, but these trees know of haste and speak of men in a pace that would make a Fangorn birch blush with new growth. The mountains grow tall in the north, perhaps the wind blows their edges and pushes them up. I ask the trees that grow here, but they only mourn, and justify their silence thusly. Walk as I might, it was hard to find a tree that was not mourning, though no fire did I see, nor smoke. Eventually I came upon an Oak, standing aside from the forest in a clearing. Down I sat beside him, and inquired as to his age. Cry did he not, and though it took for the sun to fall for him to answer, he spoke of the clearing as a plain, and of an age long beyond the years of the saplings around. Then his story did he tell. Long it was, a refreshment from my hot battles with mountains and cold tears from younger trees. He told of a time before the singers in the forest. When the shadow besieged his land, and the shadow of the shadow. He told of them settling in great fortresses, and falling before great enemies, and the bodies soaking into his roots as the elder shadow crept over the sky. He told of the city for which the trees wept. Ho humm the city of wisdom he called it, though not in so short a fashion. The city is empty of song, and now holds naught but dust and the dusting. So onward I walked, towards the city. There they may know of ent friends and, and… and their home, the place I wished to go. My destination. Hmm

Grand it was, set apart in a great valley, where the worries of the trees grew dim and the song of old could be heard dimly echoing from its peaks. I stood for a moment, and observed men enter and leave. They upheld it as a place of great honour it seemed, and enter it I intended, though fear I feared would ensue.

The laughter was what woke me, and about I looked from my glen. The water fell from, if I was not mistaken, the Bruinen in the distance, and it’s sound rocked me, tempting me into sleep once more. The sight of small ones walking about my legs took my attention before I could drift, and my attempts at moving were shaken by them running around my trunk. It would seem I did not go wholly unnoticed though, as my final shake of my branches sent them running from my sight, shouting in Westron too fast for me to quite hear what they had said. Just as my eyes adjusted, and I forgot what I had awoken for, I heard a beautiful voice, smooth and patient, speaking over the sound of the water. “See children? The trees shake with the wind, but bend not from the trunk in anger this far west of old Fangorn”. I did not need much longer to rouse myself from slumber at the sound of my name, but ho humm too long it seemed, as the man-wife and her company departed for their shelter. And so roused did I find myself alone, under stars I hummed to the trees news of Ent-friends, but none came. So I hummed of the ancient Oak, and back came the reply. He had aged it seemed, and lost his voice, but still none could grow beside him as his roots stretched long and far and still he grew. I took comfort in this, and hummed to him knowing that although his reply was distant, he could hear my call.

I had hummed not for a moment when the sun pierced the mountain and the sounds of man could be heard below. Horse clatter on stone came first, then laughter and voices. So stand I did, and wandering I went until upon a host of men in metal I came, and shrieking the man-wives and small ones ran, and as metal flashed in the morning sun and spears were pointed in my direction I hummed a man tune, speaking as I had not in an age. “I seek the Ent-friends”, pausing to see if I had the correct dialect I looked upon a familiar face, as though long ago had I met his likeness. “Ent, we have not had your kind since the time of the King Elessar, hail, I am Ent-friend, though I fear I am not of who you enquire”. And with that he sheathed his blade and knelt low, and accompanying him his company did, and emerging from the distance, at his beckoning, came the ones who fled. Hum I did, searching for words to questions fading from memory, “Not you man, I seek ent-friends, though if they are taller or shorter than your own kind I cannot recall, man they are not. Northward I go, seeking my friends, I would appreciate a guide, as the trees remember not my name, and the roads change with the wind”. Standing and thinking, the man turned aside and spoke to his entourage, but distant did the wind carry his words, and though all but two, one of the small ones and the largest of his company, with a silver breastplate and a great white tree printed on it, akin to the one on my speakers own tunic, did leave, he answered. “I will lead you, though ent-friends are not common among my people or any other left east of the sea. If northward you would go, I may lead you to the Beornings, who stand far taller than I and still hold the forest and its wonder in reverence, or north eastward take you to the people of Dale, who are short and simple and have love for the forests and rivers, though nothing else lays where you wonder save the ice and remnants of death”.

Considering his words carefully I thought to myself if either of these places were where I wished to go, and though he called to me long, I thought silently. When I had given it ample time, I disagreed and looked around. It seems autumn had settled, and around me lay the leaves that had fallen, evergreen I remained, the only one among the host of trees, my thoughts went to the Oak, and hum I did. His call came back cold, distant, and forgotten, many trees around him had grown and he was short in stature now, though shrunk he had not. I hummed around for a while longer, and pulled my roots from the stone. Strong had I grown in this vale, though even more distant now seemed the song of its inhabitants. I hummed loudly, in the tune that men may hear, searching for my man with the tree on his breast, and from the buildings came an answer, though of whom I could not tell. “I look for the man with whom I spoke earlier”, and a hurried reply of “just a moment dear Ent, I am an Ent-friend, and have been waiting for you, I shall send for my master”. And at that I rested back in my holds, and watched a rider hurry from the stable, though before I could rest he spoke to me again, and asked if we may speak at length, I was glad and agreed, and each time it seemed I was lost in thought he would inquire again, quite impatient he was, as though he feared me dozing off while we were speaking. Tired he grew, as mortals are want to, and before he retired he implored I not fall asleep before the morrow, as he wished to speak with me again. Humm himm I agreed, I desired his conversation as much as he mine, because though he was impatient, deep was his knowledge of the history of man as it had befallen. And so on we went for many days after that, before one evening I implored him as to the state of my request, assurances were made it would not be long, and jokes made that even I was becoming impatient. “My friends would have enjoyed your company too, laughter is rare among my kind”. But looking up I realised to bed he had gone, and to myself had I spoken once again. Ho humm, I suspect tomorrow will bring the rider to meet me, or I will be off to complete my quests on my own.

As the sun grew and the birds sang from my branches, I felt in the earth the thrum of horse and rider. I moved to intercept them, impatient I was to be off on this day. Three horses there were, followed by a great host, and upon the three horses sat three men, all in likeness enough to be family, though age sat on the brow of two of them, and youth was clear in the other. I spoke to the young one, as he seemed to be the man whom I had met long ago, “where is the guide I requested to take me to my ent-friends?”, puzzled he looked back at the grey bearded two, and one of them answered me hastily, “it was I who you spoke with last, before you entered your great slumber”. I hummed then, thinking to myself what he could have meant, him. I had spoken to someone young and full of strength. And so it came to be that my hums turned to wails. Never before had I been so foolish, for the short lives of mortals were lent too to those of the Ent-friends. My deep booming echoed off the walls of the valley, and back came the hum of the entire forest around me. My roots I tore from the earth and the ground around me shivered in fear of my wrath, and briefly I paid heed to the fear on the faces of the men before grief overtook me and down came my fist like a hammer upon an anvil of stone. Troubled as I was, I regret my actions to this day, greater than any regret save one, for in my arms lay my friend, teller of lore and learner of the Ent way, his body lay limp and lifeless as the stone upon which I had meant to rend my fury.

Deep in the ground I lay him. Ent-friend I told the trees, and planted in above his head an acorn from the greatest of Oaks, that I may one day know him again. The man, a king of Gondor I learnt, told me I had slept for over a century of man years, and long since would any Ent-friend save of the lines of old have passed. I was told that my poor Ent-friend had lived his life waiting for me to awaken, as had his father, and they had tended the gardens of Imladris and learnt of history and lore so that I could speak with someone to match my knowledge when I awoke. He told me that much of what we spoke of was recorded, and that whilst I rested and thought he slept, many candles burned for long hours detailing my history as it was told, and my language and culture, and secrets lost to the passage of time. Vast was my sorrow, but yet did I wish to pursue my quest, and so I, the oldest of living things left yet under these stars, and my guide, the oldest of men in halls of stone or wood, set out.

Eager he was to know of my name, and although forgotten it was to me, the Oak had remembered, and echoed the name Fangorn down through the trees. And so I told my guide, and he rejoiced, for he had delved deep in the lore of old and learnt of the exploits of Ents, little as they are, and so he told me that my friends must be the Hobbits of the Shire, and that though they had passed from sight, and their kind had dwindled and disappeared, their land was kept from human settlements as the first King Elessar had decreed. My sorrow and my regret aside, I asked of the brothers who had walked with me from Fangorn and taken Angrenost, and for the tale of their lives to be told to me in full.

For days we wondered, and I learned of Pippin the Tall and Merry the Brave. Of how Pippin went on to serve the stewards of Gondor as a warrior, and Merry to be a squire of the king of Rohan who fought an evil sorcerer and cast him down, and that they each played their part in the salvation of their home. I wept for Merry, learning of his lame arm as he had carried it through his life, and laughed at the thought of my foolish friend Pippin becoming Thain of all of the Shire. So many names and memories had ever affected an Ent before this day, and my hum could be heard in the farthest trees of Mirkwood and Lorien, echoing the sadness and joy of the hobbit-folk, and deep in my chest I felt that I owed them something I could not repay. And so in this way we came to the borders of the Shire, where the trees were glad and yet recalled the folk who dwelt here. My guide, the King, bid me farewell, and said that I would remembered forever as Hobbit-friend, a title as such I new I never deserved, and I sat on the outskirts of the Shire and watched him leave and wept, for never had a greater honour been bestowed upon one of my kind.

For long I sat there, weeping and laughing in equal measure, I felt the trees grow thick around me as they too learnt of my friends the hobbit, and Ent they did not call me, nor Fangorn, but Hobbit-friend. At last the trees grew so thick that they carried my hum far south, and west, and I realised that in this forest I was not the only power, for out of the west came a hum likewise, and on the south-wind came a song of joy, and in that song I found the strength to lift myself from slumber, and set out west. There I came upon a hill, where trees and flowers and mounds pocketed the earth, and hoping to find some remnants of Hobbit-folk I instead found a great tree, the like of which I had not seen for a period of time longer than I care to estimate, so long I scarcely remember remembering them, yet deep within me I felt her call, the Mallorn tree of Valinor. Silver was her bark, and golden her leaves, and I hummed to it of how it came to be there, but to my surprise it new only of Hobbits, and of Hobbit folk, nothing of the West, for Hobbiton was her true home. And it was as though the tree had been planted for the purpose of telling me of all I had missed. She remembered all of the line of Brandybuck and Took, as long as they stayed seperate, for the Brandybucks married into the Tooks, and the other did the same, and then the Took heir died without sons, and the Brandybucks were all that remained. She told me of how Pippin trained archers so that never again could the pale orc-men take their land and fell their trees, and how Merry treated with Kingsmen on the border, and how Merry married a young maid from the Northfarthing and sired many children, and how after their dearest friends Frodo and eventually Samwise left across the sea, the two of them would sit under her branches and smoke and laugh. She recalled the sound of their laughter so well, she could echo it among her branches, and as Fangorn the mighty sat in the Shire and wept, the leaves of the Mellon were swept in the wind, and the memory of the two of them and the power of their loss echoed throughout all middle earth.

Down in the south, through the old forest, an old power heard of the tears, and he wept also, for of the loss of time he knew much. And he rejoiced that one may yet recall those he would not either forget. And in the east the forest around Imladris that had grown strong heard his call, and remembered Ent-friend, and the acorn that was planted grew strong with the power of Ent tears, and the Oak heard the cries and hummed, for his friend would hear him and take comfort in his grief. And further east past Mirkwood and the lonely mountain where Elves yet hid among the trees they took shelter, for such sorrow had all but been forgotten by them. And down in Fangorn the trees swayed with the wails, and the Ents that were left uprooted and cried with their brethren, and it was so that all the trees of middle earth cried with their Shepard. And south, far south and far east, farther than Umbar and Harad, where trees are sparse and oases of life exist with flowers and water, the sorrow stirred life. The sorrow of an age stirred the compassion of an aging mind, and so northward went the Ent-wives, to soothe and comfort and re build.

[wijopat]

Eldest

Treebeard (and Celeborn, although his day is technically tomorrow) and language, and death, and living from the First through to the Fourth Age.

Keep reading

[wijopat]

OK I gotta point something really ridiculous out real quick.  So I’m just minding my own business, reading about Merry and Pippin’s first encounter with Treebeard (which is great for a lot of reasons), when suddenly…

WOAH WOAH WOAH HOLD UP.  Treebeard has a bed?? Like a real bed with legs and pillows and stuff?  He’s straight up lounging on that bed like no big deal, hands behind his head, ready for a fun chat with his new buds!  

This raises so many questions.  Who built this bed?  Does Treebeard regularly entertain people at his house that need to sleep in a bed?  Did the person who built the bed also build the table he has?  Do all ents have big ass beds?  We may never know.  However, the greatest mystery is still to come…

TREEBEARD DOESN’T EVEN SLEEP IN THE DAMN BED.  Like holy shit why does he have this bed if he’s not even gonna sleep in it?  It feels like Tolkien is just messing with us at this point and I love it.

[wijopat]

Peregrin Took was a Hero

Do you know what I admire about Peregrin Took so much?

He was a kid when all this started. If you compare it to human age he’s around like 18 years old. A teenager.

And this boy has the absolute worst luck ever, leading to tons of accidents. If course, this comes atop of the fact that he’s the son of Paladin Took, the Thain. Pippin probably hasn’t been away from his home for more than a day before this journey, but still he was ready to follow his friend to the end of the world if he had to, not even knowing where it would lead him. All he knew was that he’d go along with his best friend in the world to help out their other friend.

Just take a second to think about how utterly TERRIFIED this poor, spoiled teenager had to be when suddenly some strange black riders followed them and before he even knew it members of their group fell and he and his best friend were captured. That’s a major traumatic experience.

And even before that, he was made the scapegoat it the group. With Gandalf regularly shouting at him what a nuisance he was and what a “Fool of a Took”.

Now imagine, what would you have done? I would have run away. If I was traumatized like that, blamed by everyone and somehow everything I did turned out in complete disaster, I would have bolted. But he didn’t. Peregrin Took kept his head up and went through all if it. Sure, it must have downed him, but it never took him long to lift his head up and smile again. In the face of death he rode into battle, as a tiny creature with next to know experience in fighting at all. Because Pippin was just this brave and optimistic and wanted everything to be okay again. He wanted to go home again and have fun with his best friends in the world again.

And then he made it. He made it back to the Shire and then eventually he became the Thain. One of the most important positions in the Shire after all he went through. And I’m hella sure he went down in history for more than just being tall.

So, always remember: Peregrin Took was a hero. Have fun prying that from my cold, dead hands.

[wijopat]

Deserved better duo

[wijopat]

I just found out that there is a record of C S Lewis, after witnessing Tolkien wangle a research post for a friend, referring to him as “the Lord of the Strings” and I don’t know what to do with this information.

[wijopat]

Update: Sauron is not afraid of hobbits. He was unaware that hobbits existed up until very recently.  he literally did not have time to be afraid of them, they went from a 0 to 100 threat level in twenty seconds. There he was, minding his own business worrying about the usual Elves and Men when suddenly these kids are on his lawn and now he’s dead, like just; 

What did— who– 

did I just get one-shotted by an infant how is this occurring 

[wijopat]

When Elrond and Elros are sent away/released to Gil-Galad’s camp, Gil-Galad is concerned that they might try to maneuver for the throne. (Even if he is Fingon’s son, someone capable of uniting the Noldor and the Sindar into one kingdom would have a lot of clout. If Gil-Galad is not Fingon’s son, the twins are ahead of him in the succession.)

He’s really surprised when Elrond’s opinion about being king is “LOL no I don’t want to die.”

The evidence that kings die is pretty strong: High King Finwe, High King Feanor, High King Fingolfin, King Finrod of Nargothrond, High King Fingon, King Orodreth of Nargothrond, High King Turgon, King Elu Thingol of Doriath, King Dior of Doriath.

Evidence that not being king can keep you alive: Tuor, Earendil, Cirdan, Celeborn of Doriath, Maglor who gave the throne back to Maedhros, Maedhros who also gave the throne away and is still alive at this point

Elros doesn’t actually disagree with the premise that kings die; he just found a loophole out of getting killed, which is the scary part, by choosing Men.

Gil-Galad starts to wonder if letting small children be raised by mass murderers was such a good idea after all, but on the plus side there’s not about to be a civil war.

[wijopat]

things the tolkien biopic needs to include:

tolkien being such a bad driver edith refused to ride in the car with him driving

young tolkien and edith dropping sugar cubes on the heads of passerby from the second story of a tea room

tolkien and lewis going to a non-costume party dressed as polar bears

tolkien almost ending his friendship with lewis because he hated santa claus making an appearance in narnia so much

tolkien’s entire writing group except for lewis fucking hating his writing because of all the elves

literally everyone hating going for walks with tolkien because he would stop and stare at every tree he passed for like 20 minutes

tolkien owning a goblet with the black speech (that he made up) on it and refusing to drink out of it because it’s an “accursed language”

tolkien inventing the “one ring to rule them all” verse while in the bathtub and jumping out

tolkien dressing up as an anglo saxon warrior and chasing his neighbors down the street with an axe

tolkien entering the room shouting beowulf in old english at his students the first day of classes

tolkien convincing his class that leprechauns were real

tolkien stealing a city bus while attending oxford and taking his friends for a joy ride

tolkien being a savage replying to a letter from the nazis

tolkien hating the beatles with a passion and refusing to let them make a lotr movie

tolkien hating his crazy american fans and calling them his “deplorable cultus”

“jirt”

[wijopat]

we all like to complain about the love triangle in the hobbit movies and fair enough it’s a horribly overused and lazy trope but let’s be real it was BARELY  a love triangle…like all legolas ever does to indicate he’s even remotely interested in tauriel is watch her talking to kili with a vaguely annoyed expression on his face in the desolation of smaug, which is in character for legolas given that he stares disconcertingly in the wrong directions for about half of his total screentime in the lord of the rings, and then say that one throwaway line about how his dad “ is my king, but does not command my heart” that never gets brought up again and which, given that it’s in the nature of tolkien’s elves to be as overdramatic as possible and embellish every sentence they utter with unnecessarily flowery nonsense, could honestly just be legolas telling tauriel they’re really good bros. even the scene where he puts himself between her and thranduil’s sword fits the bill, since the lotr films already demonstrated multiple times legolas’ tendency to be canonically absurdly ride or die for his friends.

[wijopat]

older lotr illustrations sometimes depict éowyn wearing ridiculously small armour. apart from the problem of general sexualisation of the only female character (who really does anything), there’s another hilarious thought:

éowyn pretended to be dernhelm, a man. to fit in, she must have worn men’s armor. so the armor in the illustrations is normal for rohirrim.

therefore, all the rohirrim rode to war just like that:

[wijopat]

morgoth sketch, also love this evil idiot

[wijopat]

Elrond

He protec

He attac

But most importantly

He want his loved ones to come bac

[wijopat]

Every other straight man ever singing about a woman: wow baby you’re so sexy I love you because your body is sexy

Hozier, an intellectual and lesbian ally: I am a bird of prey and you are a sharp spike upon which I impale small rodents

[wijopat]

[wijopat]

This was the moment when I suddenly remembered that Elrond is the great-great grandson of both Fingolfin and Melian, that he commanded armies against Sauron in the Second Age, and that it was probably Maedhros and Maglor who taught him to fight like that