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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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Double Heart | Chapter Twenty-Eight ~ Cosima

|previous part found in my Masterlist|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3536

**You can find this story on Ao3 here**

Ever since the meeting with Lady Galadriel six days ago, Alex has been in high spirits. While she doesn’t currently have a way to send him home, she is actively looking for one, which in Alex’s eyes, is more than Elrond did. Alex does his part to find a solution and I keep my promise of helping him. We spend almost the entire day in the library, researching through thousands of years worth of books and documents. Rumil joins us when he can. Thankfully, the ice between us has broken. It’s still obvious that he’s sad, but he’s able to be my friend again, which is much more than I deserve. Haldir reports the same. All is not fixed, but their interactions are much warmer and mostly free from tension. That’s honestly the best part of it all. I’m already taking so much from Haldir — I don’t want to take his brother away from him, too.

When I’m not working to mend relationships with Rumil or researching with Alex, I’m usually at Mirime’s talan. I do miss Lavandil, but Mirime has been a wonderful friend to me. We go on walks with her dogs, practice self-defense, and she teaches me how to cook Elvish food. Both she and Haldir smile politely and eat each of the dishes I set before them without complaint, even though I know they’re very poor imitations of the food they’re used to eating. Just earlier today, Mirime said the lunch I made was “much better than last time.” So, that’s some form of improvement!

The sun is just starting to sink over the horizon when Mirime and I get back to her talan after walking her dogs.

“Thanks for having me over,” I smile as I take my hair out of its bun, careful not to mess up Haldir’s courting braid.

Mirime bends down to pat one of her hounds. “Anytime.”

“Do you want to come over to mine tomorrow for dinner? Haldir and Rumil will be there.” This is the latest step in my efforts to smooth things over with Rumil. I want to have him over for dinner, but I think it would be too much pressure if it were just the three of us. Mirime is known and well-liked by us all — she would be the perfect person to ease all the tension and keep it a dinner between friends.

“Sure!” She beams. “What can I bring?”

“Can you bring some of that cinnamon nutmeg bread? I can do everything else.” I know I’ve only been in Caras Galadon a week, but I’m a thousand percent sure Mirime makes the best bread in the city.

She laughs softly, knowing I would eat that bread all day if given the chance. “Of course. I’ll see you then.”

“See you!”

I exit the talan, careful to keep my eyes on the raised path rather than the steep drops around it. It’s crazy how much better I’ve gotten. The fear is still present, but I’m able to trust in myself much more, just like Haldir said. Besides, most of the paths have at least something I could grab to catch myself in the event that I did fall.

I look at the setting sun, trying to measure how long I have before Haldir gets home. Probably at least an hour. He’s never been home before dark. I smile to myself, changing my path to walk towards the center of town. I know my way to the library now and, with an hour to kill, I may as well go get a new book, since I finished the last one the night before.

The clerk at the desk smiles at me in greeting, having recognized me as a frequent presence here. I wave at her as I pass and make a right towards the fiction wing. The book I finished last was the second in a dulogy. How about a series this time…

By the time I leave, I have not one book in my arms, but six. Mina, the elleth at the front desk, grins while she checks my books out.

“I read these not too long ago. They’re really good.”

“Are they?” I smile. “I want something that will keep me occupied for a while.”

At this, she snorts. “I guarantee you’re going to breeze right through these. After page forty of book one, they’re near-impossible to put down.”

My grin widens. “Well then, I’ll see you next week for another series.”

She laughs and passes me the record of the books I checked out, as well as a bag.

“Too much to carry at once,” she explains in response to my raised eyebrow at the free bag.

I thank her and exit through the front doors.

It’s dark out. Shoot. I blink, trying to make my eyes adjust. I spent way more time at the library than I meant to, and Haldir’s probably already home. He has a key by now, so at least he can let himself in, but I still feel bad. We only really see each other at night and in the mornings, so anytime either of us is late, it takes some of that time away.

I quicken my pace but stay mindful enough not to trip over roots or slats in the bridges.

“Careful.”

I suck in a breath and whirl around, gripping my bag of books tighter to my side. I see a tall ellon with russet colored hair leaning against a tree behind me. I watch him closely.

He steps forward and the light from a talan’s window illuminates his face. “Apologies. I did not mean to frighten you. I just noticed you were going quite fast on these bridges, for a human. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. My name is Rustion.”

I blink. I don’t recognize him. “I’m —”

He smiles easily. “Haldir’s human, I know.”

I purse my lips, trying not to look annoyed. I force a polite tone. “My name is Cosima.”

He holds a hand out and I regard it warily, unsure of who he is and why he stopped me tonight. “Well, Cosima, it is getting dark. The borders are well-guarded enough, but with all the danger in this world, one can never be too sure. Hand me your books and I will walk you home.”

I swallow. Something about his tone feels…off.

I shift on my feet, placing a bit more distance between us. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine on my own. It’s not far.”

His expression opens, turns a bit pleading. “Please, I insist. The Marchwarden would surely assign me to northern border guard for a month if he found out I left you to walk home alone in the dark.”

I exhale in relief. He works for Haldir, of course. He just respects Haldir and wants to make sure I get home alright. I relax considerably. “Well, I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you.” I laugh weakly, still a bit awkward with this ellon I don’t know. I pass him my bag of books, which he shoulders. “Thank you.”

He extends a hand forward. “Lead the way.”

It’s not a far walk from the library to my talan, only ten minutes or so, but each minute seems to stretch into an infinity. Rustion shoots me intense, suspicious glances and with each step, my uneasiness grows. I just want to be home with Haldir.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. “I heard you and your companion have quite the story to tell.”

I look up at him, then glance away. “It is a bit unusual, yes.”

“Do you know how you ended up in Arda?”

I shake my head. “We’re looking into that now — have been since we arrived. There are theories, of course, but nothing concrete.”

“Pity,” he murmurs, and we lapse into a brief silence.

But of course, nothing lasts.

“It’s a wonder to me that you can feel safe here,” he continues, eyeing me, “with all the unprecedented attacks as of late.”

I shoot him another look, catching the edge to his tone. “Yes,” I say cautiously. “It is a bit jarring, but I trust the safety of these borders. And Haldir has taught me how to defend myself,” I add. It can’t hurt for him to know.

He chuckles almost condescendingly. “He’d be a fool not to. Though I have to wonder about the connection between your presence and Sauron’s forces.”

I stop walking, catching the thinly-veiled accusation in his tone. “I have no connection to Sauron’s forces.”

“So you’ve said.” He begins walking again, forcing me to keep pace or lose my books. At this point, I’m almost ready to let them go. “But the fact that you and Alexander have supposedly ‘lost’ your memories does make it conveniently difficult to verify your story.”

Ice freezes my veins and it reflects in my voice. “Do you want to accuse me of something?”

“I’m merely taking stock of a very strange situation. Dangers rise, humans appear out of nowhere with a supposed lack of memories, and one human woman, one random, insignificant woman somehow manages to capture the heart of the leader of the most formidable army in this world. He won’t speak badly of you now, and certainly won’t raise his army against you.”

It feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “You think I’m using him? That I’m a spy?”

Rustion shrugs, looking unbothered.

My anger flares. “That could not be further from the truth and I would thank you to stay out of our personal lives. I’ll walk myself home.”

Counting my books as a casualty of this unexpected war, I storm ahead, fury burning.

“Some of us see through your facade, human,” Rustion sneers, keeping pace with me easily.

“Leave me alone,” I grind out, training my eyes on the silvery light a few elevated bridges ahead coming from a window of my talan.

“I will prove your role in this.”

“Knock yourself out,” I retort, stomping ahead.

He finally stops pursuing me and I hurry up the twisting bridges to make it to the door of my talan. Haldir left the door unlocked for me and I quickly slip inside.

“Hello, love.” He looks up at me from his spot on the couch, one leg crossed over his other knee, book on military strategy in his hands. His face falls once he sees my expression. “What’s wrong?”

I huff and stomp into my bedroom, taking off my shoes and day clothes and changing into looser, softer pajamas.

Haldir follows a second later, eyeing me warily. “Did you not have a good day?”

My throat clenches and I can’t tell if I’m going to cry or scream, so I just shrug and sit in front of the mirror at the vanity, working my hair into a braid to keep it contained while I sleep.

Haldir tries again from his spot leaning against the doorframe. “You finished your novel last night. The library is still open, do you want to go together and get something new?”

“I already did,” I bite out, hating how my voice wavers.

He takes a step forward and then halts, seeming unsure of himself as he visibly works to find the reason I’m upset. “Did you leave your books at Mirime’s? I’m sure she will have them for you tomorrow.”

I decide to put him out of his misery. “Rustion has them.”

His face hardens. Before my eyes, he becomes the stern, intimidating Marchwarden people fear and respect in equal part.

“I will retrieve them for you.” He pushes off the wall and makes his way into the living room, tense as a bowstring.

“Wha—Haldir.” I hurry after him, his reaction for a second making me forget about my own emotions. I step in front of him and grab his shoulders, stopping his progress towards the door. “Not right now. This is not a tonight problem. Let’s just — sit.”

His glowering expression says he disagrees, but he leaves the choice to me and allows me to pull him onto the couch. I tuck my knees to the side and he sits next to me, resting his arm along the length of the couch that runs behind my head.

His expression softens slightly when he sees my face. “What happened?”

I sigh, letting my fingers drum over the back of his hand while I work up the courage to speak.

“I was walking home from the library and he stopped me. He made it sound like he wanted to walk me home out of consideration for you, so I let him. He carried my books. We were talking pretty normally but then he started with the accusations. He-he said,” I take in a shuddering breath, feeling the tears pricking at my eyes. “Well, he implied that I’m just using you so you won’t turn Lothlórien’s army against me because I’m an agent of Sauron’s. He doesn’t think I really love you.” The tears fall then, sliding down my cheeks and falling onto our now entwined hands. “You know that’s not true, right? You know that I really do love you?”

“Cosima, of course I know that you love me.” Haldir’s arm raises off the back of the couch and encircles my shoulders, pulling me against his chest. He frees his other hand from mine and wraps it around my back, holding me while I cry.

“Does everyone think I’m a spy? I know Mirime probably doesn’t, but it’s hard enough to make friends here as it is even without the ellyn thinking I’m evil. And I don’t want to cause problems for your career and—”

He shushes me, rubbing my back gently. “You’re spiraling, meleth-nîn.”

I exhale a shaky breath, tucking my head into his shoulder. “I know.”

“Rustion is a very small minority compared to everyone here who sees you as you are. In time, he will accept your presence and honesty as well.”

I nod, breathing beginning to slow as I cry all I can for tonight. Haldir holds me in silence, continuing to gently soothe me.

I crack a watery smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve cried in front of you. I knew things were going too well.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slowly. “Alas, we seem to have broken our streak.”

I press a kiss to his cheek and lay my head against his chest, focusing on the comforting metronome of his heartbeat.

After what feels like a few minutes, he speaks. “I’m sorry he said that to you. He and I will be having a conversation first thing in the morning.”

I shake my head, which already feels heavy and aching. “Don’t worry about it. I think getting you to fight the battle for me would just make it worse.”

By the way Haldir tenses slightly, he disagrees, but he doesn’t argue with my decision. He just continues to comfort me as my eyes get heavier and heavier until they finally slide shut and I fall asleep right there on the couch.

{***}

The next morning, I wake to an empty bed, Haldir having long before left for work. Propped against the wall rests my bag, filled with my books. I smile softly, throwing the covers back and going to inspect the novels, making sure Rustion didn’t harm them. They are library books, after all. Once I ensure each of them is in perfect condition, I get dressed, eat a quick breakfast, and hurry out the door so I can meet Rumil, Alex, and Mirime in the library for our morning researching.

{***}

It’s as Haldir says. Slowly, over time, the ellyn of Lothlórien warm to me. They start by addressing me by name, and inclining their heads when they see me pass. A few weeks after that, it’s including me in conversations. By the time summer is nearing the end, it’s invitations to dinner parties and picnics in the woods. Summers in Lothlórien are glorious. Just on the shy side of hot with a reliable breeze never far behind. The woods within the borders are filled with lush greens and deep browns, highlighted by the crystalline blue of the various ponds and lakes hidden amongst the trees and cliffs. I’ve already found a few spots that I would count as my favorite, and Haldir and I explore them whenever we have the chance. He’s quite busy tracking the movements of Sauron’s army and securing Lothlórien’s borders, but he always manages to find time to spend with me and his family. Rumil and I do all we can to take some of the weight off of him. When Rumil isn’t on patrol or participating in lengthy strategy sessions, he’s joining me for my full days of research in the library. I’ve become the unofficial researcher for the wardens. It’s not unusual for multiple ellyn a day to bring me a piece of paper with some figure or battle or town and ask me to write up what I can find on it. It’s actually pretty cool, knowing the reports I research and prepare are being used to help keep people safe. My days in the library are so long that Haldir and I get home around the same time, always after dark. We alternate cooking and rely heavily on leftovers, as those are the easiest. More than once, Mirime — bless her — has taken pity on us and ‘popped by’ along with enough food to feed us for a week. When Mirime’s around, Rumil is rarely far behind. I want to ask him about it, see if something’s there, but I’m not sure how my prying would be received. We’re on good terms again and friendly, but it’s not like it was. There’s still a lot of healing that needs to be done between us and between him and Haldir. We see him outside of work at least twice a week though, and that definitely helps smooth the hurt caused by the emotional distance between us.

We receive letters from Lavandil and Orophin at least twice a month. Due to the dangers of traveling through the unguarded territories, getting letters through has been a bit unreliable, so the letters are sometimes outdated. But Haldir, Rumil, and I don’t mind. It’s just nice to hear how they’re doing. Orophin has been accepted fully into Elrond’s guard and has managed to avoid border duty by committing to training the new recruits full-time. This pleases Lavandil to no end, who now has him home and occasionally free enough to help at her shop, which is doing quite well, as always. They got married shortly after we left and now have what Lavandil calls “a lovely cottage” in the northern part of the city, an area framed by twin waterfalls. The three of us drink to their happiness, each of us a little sad in our own way that we’re not there to celebrate with them.

I see Alex less and less. Like when we were in Imladris, he retreats into his own space, choosing to obsessively read and research rather than integrate into this new life. The only time I know I’ll see him is when we have our weekly sessions with Lady Galadriel. She donates hours of her time to attempting to help us heal our fæs and find Alex a way home. Usually after a session, I’m wracked with the awful headaches, but Alex grins broadly despite the pain, pleased that we are, as he sees it, “making progress towards home.” To her credit, Lady Galadriel has many theories. None of them have panned out yet, but certainly not for lack of trying. Once, while looking into her mirror, I saw a hint of curly gray hair, which I know deep in my gut belonged to Nonna. Alex saw something that made him cry. He didn’t offer any information, and I didn’t ask. He just showed up the next week looking more determined than ever.

As summer cools into fall, fall freezes into winter, and winter blooms into spring, I’m struck by just how much has changed just since I woke up in Arda. Ten months ago, I was scared, desperate to get home, and starkly at odds with the stern Marchwarden who found me near the river. Now, we’re living together and each working tirelessly to keep this world, a place I now unquestioningly regard as my home, safe. I have a life here, I have friends here, I have something that is very quickly turning into a career. I don’t want that to be put in jeopardy. But despite our, and so many others’, efforts to keep this world at peace, we are quickly tumbling towards a war. Haldir knows this, I know this, it’s a palpable feeling in the air. Even Rustion, who once regarded me with open suspicion and hostility, now gruffly thanks me for the reports I prepare for him.

The peace I have found in this world won’t last for long. But I think — I hope, I pray — that as long as I keep the people I love close to me, everything will be okay.

It will all be okay.

A/n Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! If you’re a Dramione reader, check out newest Dramione fic on Ao3!

|masterlist|

|next chapter - to be posted|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist @that-cute-stranger

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @sleepyamygdala @bigcatmairon @moony-artnstuff @thranduilseyebrows

#Double Heart

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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NEW FIC ALERT!

Hi friends! Although I’m definitely still working on Double Heart (new chapter comes out today!) I’ve also been working on a Dramione fic and decided it’s time to start posting it! Here’s the summary:

With tensions between Purebloods and Muggleborns at a high point eight years after the War, the Ministry of Magic unveils its newest idea: Pair Muggleborn volunteers with Pureblood volunteers as roommates for a year.

Hermione signs up so no Muggleborn child will ever have to go through what she did. Draco signs up to show the world that he's changed and to bring respect back to his family name. The two never expected to be paired, but bravery and pride keeps each from backing out. Now, with Hermione sharing the Manor with Draco for the next year, each must learn to work through their fears and hesitations in order to grow into the people they want to be.

And if they happen to fall in love along the way, well, no one can begrudge them that.

I’ll be posting it only on Ao3, so feel free to check it out there :)

Let me know if you have any questions! I hope you are doing what you can to take care of yourselves <3

#dramione #dramione fic #dramione fanfic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #harry potter fanfic #dramione fanfiction #ao3

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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breaking dawn more like

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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Fic authors deserve more credit.

Story time: I started a book about 23 hours ago and just finished it. Also in that time I slept for 10 hours, spent time with family, was at work, etc. Anyway, I enjoyed the book (Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda). But it felt like it flew by, so after I finished I looked up the word count because what are pages? Pages are meaningless. I only function in word counts anymore.

The estimate I found was 58,580. My immediate reaction was “oh, that’s why. That’s nothing!” But what a shitty response. Because no. That’s not nothing. That’s a whole. Damn. Book. An entire novel! And Fic authors regularly bust out 30k, 50k, 100k, 150k words. AND THEY DO IT FOR FREE. WHILE WORKING AND LIVING THEIR LIVES.

So anyway, thank your favorite fic author today because they deserve it. Because they’re amazing. They’re the MVPs.

#fanfic #this is wild #thank you to all the writers out there 💕

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.

#oh so pretty #moodboard #achilles moodboard #achilles aesthetic

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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Which character did you view totally differently as a child vs. as an adult? - Eowyn

Eowyn

Artist:

I’m talking about Book!Eowyn. This is important to remember because she’s so very different from Movie!Eowyn.

When I first read Lord of the Rings I was 11, which looking back was way too young to fully understand them. Rereading them when a was as a mature, wise eighteen-year-old (yes, that counts as an adult) I find myself looking at Eowyn differently.

As a kid, I felt like she was a good example of how to not write a female character. She was going to commit suicide just because a random guy didn’t like her, and she ends the story marrying a random dude and deciding to stay in the kitchen. Like a lot of people, I thought her entire character was pretty sexist. Of course, I loved Movie!Eowyn. She was my idea of a good female character: a spunky warrior who smashed the patriarchy.

I find this on Twitter

Between 11 and 18 I’ve struggled with depression a lot. My experiences with that and other mental illnesses put Lord of the Rings in a completely different light. Its funny no one mentions exactly how much it’s about conquering depression. That’s practically the main theme of the book. Every character suffers from depression at one point, every character gives up all hope at least once, and it’s the constant, unseen enemy. The Nazguls personify despair, but we see less blatant examples too. Eowyn’s journey is possibly my favorite.

Eowyn’s situation when we first meet her is pretty terrible. Her cousin has recently died, her brother is banished and on a suicide mission, and there’s a creepy guy constantly trying to make moves on her. Her kingdom is about to be overrun and her people are being killed, and there’s nothing she can do about it. What’s worst, her uncle, who’s practically a father to her, is being manipulated and weakened. She watched him grow weaker every day and there’s no way she can help him. She’s royalty, born for greatness, but she’s stuck helplessly watching everything around her crumble and rot.

That sort of depression, the kind when you fear your own helplessness and inability more than anything when you are unable to fight back, doesn’t have a name. But those who have faced it know how draining and debilitating it is, especially when you feel that you have to stay strong for those around you.

I find this on Twitter

Then Gandalf and co come in and save the day, Eowyn sees a way out. She sees Aragorn and becomes obsessed with him. Not because she’s actually in love with him, but because she sees him as a great king who will give her a chance to fight, a chance to be great, a chance of freedom.

But then he leaves on what seems like a suicide mission, and she knows her uncle and brother are on their way to a battle they probably won’t return from. She, however, is stuck once more, left behind to watch her world fall apart while she can do nothing.

Her soul has been worn away by the endless waiting. She has no hope left that the power of Mordor can be defeated because she has watched it invade her very home while she could do nothing. In many ways, she’s similar to Denethor, who was destroyed by doing nothing but watching the enemy creep closer. But Denethor’s paralysis was by choice. Eowyn has no choice, she rarely does. She has no control over anything. And the one person she thought could save her and her kingdom is leaving on what seems like a hopeless journey.

Eowyn is no longer afraid of dying. She’s reached rock bottom at this point. All she wants is a chance to make a difference, to make a choice for once in her life. So she disguises herself as a soldier and marches off to battle she doesn’t plan to come back from.

I find this on Twitter

And of course, she takes Merry, who might not be as desperate but also feels pretty helpless.

We all know what happens next. That scene is so famous, it’s probably one of the best moments of the books. It’s way better in the book the movie: Eowyn laughs before her “I am no man,” line. But looking further into it the scene is about as heartbreaking as it is awesome. Eowyn’s laughing because at last, she’s doing something. At last, she’s able to at least try to make a choice. A choice at how she will die, heroically, defending her king and father-figure to the last. The Nazgul, whose weapon is soul-crushing despair, has no effect on her because she’s faced it day after day. And that despair had no face and no form and she couldn’t fight it. And now, finally, in her last moments, she has a chance to fight it.

And she does.

I find this on Twitter

But instead of dying, she’s wounded, and yet when Aragorn heals her she finds that not much has changed. She still believes that their defeat at the hands of Mordor is inevitable, and she’s still determined to die in the best way she can. If she can’t control her life, she might as well control her death.

But she can’t even control that. Aragorn and the others insist that she stays behind to heal while they once again head off to a hopeless last stand. Yet again she’s trapped, helpless, waiting for Mordor to win and overrun everything.

She killed a Ringwraith, but nothing much changed.

Then she meets Faramir. He’s the first person she lets see her as anything but strong. She allows herself to cry before him, and later on, draws close to him when she thinks the armies of Mordor are coming. This is a sharp contrast to the way she treated Aragorn, constantly trying to prove her strength to him. She lets Faramir see her pain and her fear. Faramir knows quite a bit about despair himself, and he’s watched at least one loved one (his father) be destroyed by it already. He wants to save Eowyn from her own hopelessness. The two grow close, and Eowyn allows herself to melt a little.

Finally, after Mordor falls, Faramir asks her if she loves him, or Aragorn. Like many love triangles, this one is symbolic. Aragorn offered what she thought she needed: a chance to have control of her life, to be great queen, to have control over her world. But he was never going to love her back, and great deeds were never going to heal her.

Faramir offered a simple life. He wasn’t a king, her place as second in line to Rohan was much higher than his. But he loves her, and she loves him. He gave her a chance to be a healer, a mother, and a wife. She was never going to heal chasing the impossible, striving for a last heroic stand. She had to stop fighting and let herself heal.

Ironically enough, killing the personification of despair didn’t conquer Eowyn’s depression, finally accepting someone else’s love and letting herself a chance to heal did.

I find this on Pinterest

Eowyn’s story is not about a battle against evil hordes or even the patriarchy, but of a battle against depression. She is so much more than a spunky heroine or a tragic lover. Her character is complex and her despair feels very real because many of us have felt it.

Many people, including me at first, felt like Eowyn’s ending was sexist. But Tolkien never saw battle as heroic or good. We naturally see it sexist that our heroine retires to become a healer and wife because we’ve been taught that those things aren’t ‘heroic’ or ‘cool’. But Tolkien’s heroes rarely are skilled in battle, and over and over again we are given the message that true strength is not what it seems.

The great ones: Denethor, Boromir, Theoden, and Saruman are easily corrupted. The small, unimportant hobbits who like to cook and garden (fairly traditionally feminine activities) are the strongest of all. Even Aragorn is recognized as a king due to being a healer, not a warrior.

Eowyn’s story is another one in which Tolkien shows us that true strength isn’t killing a terrifying demon but letting yourself hope again.

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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if you're in the mood to take a 30-question lord of the rings quiz thats unnecessarily long that i made because all the others on uquiz were inaccurate, here's my uquiz.

#Frodo bestieeees #quarantine bored queen #lotr uquiz

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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Bella in Breaking Dawn

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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#it’s funny bc the heart is still red from when I liked it this time last year #did I say funny?#I meant depressing

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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Why are you full of rage?

Because you are full of grief.

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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Yesterday I overheard someone talking about how he was taking classes at the University of Maryland because they offer free tuition if you’re over 60.

My brain IMMEDIATELY began scripting a screwball comedy in which a broke millennial who desperately want to finish his long-abandoned degree but is drowning in student debt pretends to be a senior citizen in order to attend college for free.

I’m picturing someone Channing Tatumesque, applying age makeup every morning before he heads off to class. It’s sort of a cross between 21 Jump Street and Mrs. Doubtfire. He keeps forgetting which hip is supposed to be his bad one. His classmates laugh every time he uses slang. There’s definitely a scene where he attends a college party and busts it up on the dance floor.

He catches the eye of a fellow returning student, a woman in her 50s, but she thinks he’s like 70 and she’s already buried one husband, you know? She’s not interested in doing that again. When his charade unravels (hilariously) at the end of the movie, though, she finds out he’s actually like 30 and has abs you could bounce a quarter off. And he’s still super into her. And really, maybe it’s time she gave May-December romance a chance.

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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What if in Season 1 when Arthur tells Merlin to like, get all these things done, he doesn't actually mean like, Merlin is supposed to do them.

Like part of Merlin's job is supposed to be bringing that dented helmet to like, the fuckin blacksmith and then remembering to pick it up later but Merlin just doesn't know so he's doing it all himself.

And then Arthur is annoyed because hes like, why is my servant never around???

It's because Merlin is, personally, himself, trying to re-sharpen Arthur's entire collection of weapons instead of like, bringing those to the head of the armoury and explaining what Arthur wanted done.

Arthur's like, where have you been??? And Merlin is like, wtf why is he so annoyed with me.

"Fixing your boots! Doing your chores!"

And in Merlin's head this is like, he spent three hours hand stitching Arthur's boots, polishing his armour, and doing his laundry, he's like of course I haven't been around how long does this asshole think it takes to do all those things???

In Arthur's head he's like, it should have taken like, 1 hour to polish my armour and like 20 minutes tops to drop off my boots and laundry at the appropriate places?? Arthur's like, is Merlin an idiot? Did he just like? Get lost??? And that's why Arthur thinks Merlin's an idiot

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bonjour-rainycity · 2 years

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Double Heart | Chapter Twenty-Seven ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4488

**You can find this story on Ao3 under the same username and title**

Cosima climbs the extra feet up to Alexander’s talan with little coaxing. Slowly but surely, she’s getting better, growing more confident in herself and facing her new life in the trees despite her fear of heights. If it were anyone else, I would have likely taken a ‘tough love’ approach by now and made them climb down from a considerable height, but the same feeling that stopped me from being rough with Cosima during training prohibits me from taking anything other than a patient, encouraging approach to her fear of heights. I love her, therefore, I can do nothing to hurt or frighten her, even if it would help her in the long run. It’s quite a jarring change from my three thousand years of successfully leading ellyn in one way. But with her, I am content to take as much time as she needs. I do hope we’ll one day move into my talan, or find one together that we can make our own, but for as long as she needs, I am capable of being content in the guest talan near the ground.

Once Cosima steps over Alexander’s threshold, I turn and head for the building that houses the main strategy and war rooms. A noise registers over my right shoulder and I turn, expecting to see Orophin falling into place.

I take in a breath once I remember that Orophin is not here. He’s in Imladris, with his wife, and the ellon standing near my shoulder is actually Rumil. Rumil, who is heartbroken with the absence of one brother and the impending loss of the other, has dutifully and without being asked assumed the position his brother left vacant.

Pride and tenderness surge through me. No matter when I depart this world, as long as Rumil is in it, it will be in good hands.

I clear my throat and face forward, resuming my walking. Rumil keeps pace easily. As we pass, ellyn nod or smile in acknowledgment of our return, but I do notice a few eyeing us in wariness. It is to be expected. We left with four ellyn and returned with three and two seemingly impossible humans. I do my best to project calm assuredness, as that has worked in past times of uncertainty.

Rumil’s quiet voice reaches my ears. “The eastern patrol returned about an hour ago and reported seeing smoke similar to what we saw, though perhaps fifty miles closer to our borders than the last fire. The Lady is waiting for us in her war room.”

I don’t react beyond a nod of acknowledgment, but internally, my mind races. Fifty miles in the span of a handful of days? My company and I rode like hell to get here as soon as we did…how fast are Sauron’s forces moving?

The guards outside Lady Galadriel’s war room step aside to let us pass, having been expecting us. I part the gossamer curtains and step through, Rumil only a step behind.

Lady Galadriel looks at me from where she stands at the far head of the rectangular table, her ageless eyes tightened with worry.

“Marchwarden, Sauron’s forces move closer to our borders.”

“So I’ve heard.” Without hesitation, I stand at the other head of the table, Rumil following to take the position at my right, the one Orophin used to occupy. The others in the room — high ranking wardens and patrol leaders — fill the other spots around the table and stand near the walls.

I find the one I’m looking for. “Lossel,” I nod at her, recognizing her as the one leading the eastern patrol last night. “Full report.”

She clears her throat and steps forward. “I led my group of four past our eastern border stations and well into the plains, per the Marchwarden and the Lady’s request. An hour before sunrise, we saw smoke on the horizon, in the direction of the town the Marchwarden found decimated while on his return journey from Imladris. It was closer to us though, about fifty or sixty miles by our best estimates. We intended to ride forward and investigate but —” she hesitates, then steels herself. “But wargs descended on our company.”

Murmurs ripple through the room.

“Quiet,” I grumble. All sounds cease instantly. I nod to Lossel, indicating that she should continue.

She doesn’t miss a beat. “By my count, there were twelve, but it sounded like there were more in the distance. We weighed the risk of fighting through and decided it was not worth the chance of someone losing their life. We returned here as quickly as we could in order to report and, if necessary, seek reinforcements and ride back out.”

My face remains a stony mask of calm, but inside, worry gnaws at me. I’ve known Lossel for nearly two thousand years, I helped train her myself. I know she does not balk in the face of an enemy, nor a threat to her life. So for her to call for a retreat…

Rumil furrows his eyebrows, looking at me in uncertainty. “When was the last time that many wargs were found so close to civilization?”

“It has been many years,” Lady Galadriel intones, her voice sounding distant and contemplative. From the faraway look in her eyes, I know her mind has gone back, far back, to the first time Sauron presented a threat.

Out of respect, I wait to see if she has more to say before continuing. When she says nothing, I speak. “The wargs are not yet close enough to our borders that I am worried for the safety of our people. We could take a larger company and return to the scene to wipe them out, but I believe that action would be premature. We do not yet want to alert Sauron to the fact that we are on to him, for that would significantly diminish our time to prepare. I recommend that, until new information arises that requires reevaluation, we leave the wargs be. Traveling will be cautioned against, and those who insist on going will be required to have an armed escort. As for patrols, we continue, but we prioritize stealth over speed and increase our companies’ numbers from four to eight. Our main goal will be reconnaissance, and we will take alternate patrol routes if necessary. I will contact the leaders of Lord Elrond’s and King Thranduil’s armies and officially put forth the recommended plan of patrol coordination we agreed to yesterday evening.”

“Did we agree to it, Marchwarden?”

I recognize the sneering voice instantly. I turn my head slowly to my left, locating the ellon leaning against the stone wall. Rustion.

“We took a vote,” Rumil reminds him, voice hard.

Rustion bares his teeth. “It was barely a majority.”

“Both our Lady and Marchwarden back it, because it’s the right move,” Rumil defends.

“The matter of the strategy for coordination was debated at length yesterday, Rustion,” I say pointedly. “For the sake of efficiency, we will keep today’s discussion on the topic of how to handle the presence of wargs closer than they’ve been in recent history. If you have any input —”

“Perhaps it’s tied to them.” Rustion shrugs casually as if he didn’t just interrupt me.

I feel myself start to glower as suspicion registers. “Tied to whom?”

“Those stray humans you brought back from the plains.” His voice drips with derision. “Marchwarden, tell me you’ve considered it. Two humans supposedly not of this world and conveniently lacking vital memories appear, secure a place in the company of one of the most prominent Elvish families, spend a summer residing in the personal home of one of the great Elvish leaders of this realm, and apparently intend to make a life in the realm of our great Lord and Lady, who just happen to be the most powerful beings of our time? I cannot ignore the connection between one strange occurrence and the next. There should never have been a second attack on a village and there should never have been the presence of so many wargs so close to our home. I said it then and I’ll say it now: waiting is the wrong move. We should have massed our forces and tracked down Sauron’s legion the first time. The longer we wait, the more time they have to grow in power. The Marchwarden is so enraptured by his humans that he has allowed himself to be blinded to the connection between them and the dangers at our door. Since one of them has so obviously inserted herself into the life of our Marchwarden, perhaps he can no longer remain impartial. Perhaps, just while we investigate the full extent of the humans’ roles in these strange and dangerous occurrences, the Marchwarden should step down.”

The room goes cold and deathly silent. I feel fifteen pairs of eyes watching me, watching how I’ll react.

I don’t let any of my anger show on my face. Not only is he questioning my ability to lead, but he is — quite unjustly — speaking against Cosima, and I have no intention of letting either of those offenses pass without answer. But here in front of the Lady and the other leaders of this realm is not the place for such a confrontation.

I blink once, making myself look bored. “Your concerns have been noted. However, there is no evidence that the humans have anything to do with Sauron’s forces. If anyone else lacks confidence in my ability to perform my job, share that with the Lady Galadriel, as she is the one with the power to remove and appoint Marchwardens. For now, I suggest that we stop wasting time and instead focus on the urgent matter at hand.”

Lady Galadriel inclines her head towards me in a show of solidarity. If she ever personally questioned my leadership and asked me to step down, I would do so immediately. But I know Rustion’s words have not swayed her, nor anyone in this room. He is known to have contempt for my family and anger at his lack of promotion in the guard — two factors that seriously weaken his allegations.

Lady Galadriel speaks, her voice easily filling and dominating the room despite its softness. “I lack no confidence in you, my Marchwarden. You may continue.”

As I pick up where I left off, Rustion’s head falls in deference to his Lady, but I can feel him seething from here. This is not our first confrontation, and it will not be our last.

It’s ellon like him that can make this life seem so very long.

{***}

The meeting ends how I predicted it would. We vote, my plan wins near-unanimously, and we are released to attend to our duties. Remembering my promise to Cosima, I hang back, intending to speak with my Lady. Before Rumil can head to his next post, I motion for him to wait.

“Go to the library and see what you can find on Sauron’s use of wargs in the last war, specifically, the timeline. When did he start using them, how did they change the course of the war, and so on. Report back with your findings.” I furrow my eyebrows, guilt creeping in. “I should have asked Elrond about this when we were in Imladris. He saw it all first-hand.”

Rumil hesitates, then raises his hand, as if to put it on my shoulder. But after a moment, he drops it back to his side, having changed his mind. “You didn’t know. You cannot blame yourself for that.” He pauses, and then nods in respect before stepping back. “I will look into this, brother.”

Brother. I try not become too hopeful at his use of the title. There is still a long road to healing the hurt I’m causing him, and I fear I haven’t the time left to do it properly.

The realization — not that I am to soon depart this world, but the realization that I may have to do it without the forgiveness of my brother — weighs on me. I turn my thoughts on Cosima, on how she smiled at me this morning upon waking, the Lórien sunrise lighting her hair, and know that, though my price is heavy, it is one I would willingly pay again and again.

I pray that one day my brothers can understand that.

Thoughts of Cosima make me eager to return to her with favorable news, so I turn to approach Lady Galadriel.

She smiles at me, looking as if she expected me to turn to her. “Rustion’s conclusions are wrong, but his heart is for his realm. We cannot fault him for doing what he believes is right to protect it.”

I can fault disrespect, but I don’t share that thought with Lady Galadriel. The slight quirk to her lips tells me she knows my mind well enough.

“What do you wish to speak with me about, Haldir?”

I waste no time. I pull the letter Elrond sent ahead and press it into her hands. “Lord Elrond explains everything in this letter.” I give her a moment to skim it over, noting the nearly imperceptible raise of her eyebrows.

“I see,” she murmurs, pressing her lips together in thought. “Moving through worlds would be a traumatic process, it is entirely possible their memories have vanished in an effort to protect their minds from remembering all they no longer have. The damage to their fæs could be a side effect.”

“Can you heal them?” Millennia of practice still cannot hide the worry in my voice.

Her eyes soften. “I have a few ideas, but I make no promises. Bring them to me tomorrow evening so I can take stock of the situation for myself and see what can be done.”

I release a sigh of relief and bow low. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“There is something else,” she guesses.

I nod, straightening. “Alexander wishes to return home. It is something he wants more than anything, and I feel he will not handle having to stay in this world well. I wanted to ask if you could do anything to return him to his home world.”

Lady Galadriel quirks an eyebrow. “Alexander is alone in his desire to return to his home?”

I try not to let my shred of worry and doubt become noticeable. “At present, yes. Cosima has expressed her desire to stay here, with your permission, of course.”

She smiles. “I have no issue with allowing a human to craft a life here. Either of them may make their home as they see fit. I will look into avenues for returning the humans — one or both of them — to their home world. The magic in this world is in motion, changing. I should like to think that very few things are completely impossible in times such as this.”

Again, I bow deeply. “I thank you. I will bring Cosima and Alexander to your study tomorrow evening.”

“Marchwarden, one more thing.”

I wait expectantly.

“Would you like to be released from your position?”

For the first time in many, many years, I freeze. “I—what? No — No, my Lady. I apologize if anything I did gave that impression.”

Her expression remains indecipherable. “I do not doubt your dedication nor your aptitude. Still, I offer you this out. I would not think less of you if you wished to spend the remainder of your life in peace with your human.”

I force myself to take a deep breath, then swallow down my shock. I roll my shoulders, clasp my hands behind my back, and am once again in control of myself. “Our world is in a precarious position. If this comes to war, I will see it through to its end.”

“And after?”

I blink. “I will prepare for the next one.”

Amusement lights Lady Galadriel’s eyes. “There are many more peaceful ways to spend one’s life.”

I set my stance. “I did not choose a life of peace. I have chosen my realm, and my guard, and until the time comes when you wish to send me from my post, I will serve with all my being.”

She takes a step towards me, the amusement fading into something like pity. I’m not used to being looked at in pity, and I want to turn away from it, but I cannot show that weakness. I force myself to look her in the eye.

“‘All your being’ is no longer all your own. Haldir, I say this as your friend of many millennia, not your Lady. You have been alone for so many years, and the life you crafted served you well during that time. But now your circumstances are changing. I would not fault you for changing your choice.”

When it becomes clear that I will not respond — whether from shock, anger, indignation, or fear, I’m not yet sure — her expression softens and morphs into the serene and watchful calm she is known for. “Dismissed. Get those letters to the other generals as soon as possible.”

Stiffly and feeling a little nauseous, I bow and exit the war room.

{***}

I write the letters swiftly and send them with the birds that carry our correspondence. After, meetings occupy most of my day. In the evening, I craft updated patrol routes and groupings, taking care to make sure each group is comprised of individuals who can cover each other's weaknesses. By the time I resurface from my work, the sun is gone and I have been at my desk too long. Cursing inwardly, I race home to collect enough items so I can spend the next few days at Cosima's, then head back towards the ground to her talan.

The door is locked this time.

I knock and smile upon hearing her hurried footsteps approaching the door. The lock turns and she swings the door back to let me in.

"Hello," I greet, pulling her in for a kiss before I've fully crossed the threshold.

"Hi." She smiles up at me and then tugs on my hand, pulling me farther into her talan.

"Sorry I'm so late," I apologize, knowing it is well past the dinner time I had promised. "My work got the best of me."

"Don't worry about it," she shrugs easily and passes me two plates to take to the table. She follows a second later with drinks and sits across from me.

I raise an eyebrow, noting her plate. "You waited for me?"

"Of course I did," she answers, like the idea of doing anything else would be silly. "I had a late lunch anyway. I spent the afternoon at Mirime’s. Did you know she has six dogs?”

I grin. “Those are only the house pets. Her family has a number of hounds they use for hunting. The ones that live with her are those that are too small, sick, or old to do their jobs effectively.” I pause, something occurring to me. “Mirime lives in one of the mid-level talans. You said you visited her there?”

“Yep!” Cosima beams. “She’s very patient.”

I scoff, pretending to be affronted. “I am very patient.”

She laughs heartily, and I can’t help but join her. “Sure you are, my love.”

I lean around the table and pull her lips to mine. She sighs into the kiss and rests her hand on my shoulder, playing with the braid that hangs there.

The action reminds me of something I’ve been wanting to ask her for some time. With Rumil in a better place, I feel like I can finally bring this up. And with Rustion’s line of questioning this morning and the wary looks I got today, I want there to be no question of her place in this realm and the trust I have in her.

I pull back and take both of her hands in mine, resting them against my knees. “May I court you?”

She raises her eyebrows and sends a bemused look at the bags I dropped by her front door. “You’ve practically moved in, is that not what we’re doing already?”

I grin somewhat bashfully. If my parents knew how out of order I’ve done everything, they’d be horrified. “Yes, technically, but I do want to make it official.”

Her smile softens and she leans in to press her forehead against mine. “Then yes, you may.”

I kiss her at length, forgetting all about the food on the table. When we are both breathless and smiling wildly, I stand, turning towards my bags.

“Wait here.”

I return to the table a moment later carrying a comb and a few near-invisible hair ties. Cosima watches my movements carefully but doesn’t object when I come up behind her and begin gently separating strands of her waves.

“As you know, our braids all mean something,” I explain as I begin twisting and intertwining her hair. “The one I’m doing now is a courting braid. It will communicate with others that we are together with the intention to marry.”

She leans her head back so she can see my face. “Do you have a courting braid for me?”

I smile and continue my work. “I will. I’ll show you how to put one in my hair after I finish with yours.”

Contented, she leans back in her seat and lets me continue the intricate braid. As is the custom, I keep it on the right side of her head. Once we are married, I’ll switch it to her left so it can hang over her heart.

Lady Galadriel’s words come back to me. There are many more peaceful ways to spend one’s life. For a second, I allow myself to imagine it. I leave the guard. Given Cosima’s — and now my — shorter lifespan, few would object. I would recommend my second to take over as Marchwarden and give Rumil more responsibilites. He’s ready, he would do well with more. With the guard in good hands, Cosima and I would have more time for each other. We could spend our days hiking in Lothlórien’s extensive forests, swimming in its crystalline lakes, reading and cooking and laying in bed all day. If the roads were safe enough, we could travel back to Imladris, possibly even taking Rumil with us, should he request leave from work. I could see Orophin again, and Cosima could see Lavandil. We could stay with them for a time, explore Imladris’s waterfalls and libraries. We could return to the place I first told her I loved her and spend as much time there as we liked. And then we could come back to Caras Galadon, or perhaps even somewhere deeper in the forest. Maybe one day, with enough time and research and effort, we could truly figure out what happened to place her in my world and allow us to meet. And maybe I would get the chance to thank whatever entities made it so.

Cosima’s fingers find my wrist and she leans back to stare up at me once more. “You okay?”

I blink, reverie breaking. “Yes. Sorry, I was thinking.”

She’s silent for a moment while I continue to braid. But then — “What were you thinking about?”

I take my time before I answer, trying to phrase it just right. “Would you ever want me to step down as Marchwarden and leave the guard?”

I feel her stiffen, then she turns to face me as best as she can with my hands still in her hair. “What brought this on?”

“Something Lady Galadriel said to me earlier today. I’ve just — I’ve never considered…” I pause and try to find my words. “I would like to hear your thoughts on this.”

She purses her lips and stares at me for a moment before answering. “I don’t like that your job is so dangerous, especially with how the world’s looking right now. It does worry me and I don’t know how well I’ll handle being stuck at home if you’re away in the thick of it all. But that being said, the guard is a part of you. It’s something you’ve given so much of your life to and I know how important it is to you. I would never want you to quit on my account. Plus, you are good at your job. This world is safer with you having a leadership role in it. If you want to step down, of course I’ll support you. But please only step down if it’s something you want to do. I can’t make that choice for you.”

She tugs on my wrist and I tie off the braid before crouching next to her so we’re at eye level. She grabs my chin and pulls me in closer. “I love you, I trust you, and I want you to do what’s important to you.”

I lean my forehead against hers and inhale deeply, relieved. I don’t want to leave the guard. If she wanted me to, I would, but since the choice is up to me…

Yes, there may be a thousand more peaceful ways to spend my life. But I’ve never been the type to seek a peaceful life. Pursue it for my people, yes, but I myself like my life with a little adventure, with some passion. The fire that’s been in Cosima’s eyes from the moment I first met her tells me she is of a similar mindset. Yes, we could retreat to a home in the forest, but at least in this stage of our lives, I have a feeling we both would quickly become bored. There’s still too much to do, too much to experience. And my role in protecting this realm helps keep it safe enough to do those things.

I press a kiss to her forehead and then stand again, squeezing her hand as I go. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she smiles up at me and then, realizing I’m done with her hair, brings a hand up to feel the intricate braid.

Wasting no time, she gets out of her seat and hurries to the bathroom so she can look in the mirror. I follow closely behind her, wanting to see her reaction. She gasps in delight and trails her fingers over the braid, tracing it from start to finish, then tries to follow individual strands of hair. Her wide smile softens and she turns to me, pulling me into a hug.

“It’s perfect.”

After a moment, I show her how to put the braid in my hair. She’s unused to the technique, so it takes a while, but in about an hour we have a matching set. We stand like that for a while, arms around one another, admiring the visual representations of our commitment. Yes, my life is stranger with her in it, and full of choices that I never thought I would have to make, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/n Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile :) As always, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list!

|masterlist|

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