sirencove2

[sirencove2]

Rosemary part 3

They stood motionless for a few agonizing moments before she burst out laughing. “You’re quite bold, Master Took. Don’t worry. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but judging by the fear in your eyes, I suppose the baker told you I’m prone to violence. That’s not true in the least, by the way. Unless you’re a heap of dough, you have nothing to worry about. I may be particular when it comes to baking, but I’d never actually hurt anyone, so don’t worry. It’s very sweet of you to say that, thank you. I..haven’t ever been told that before. Most people avoid me.” She smiled at him, her cheeks still flushed. “Do you still want to join me? It won’t take long for me to finish my recipe. Once I’m done, maybe we could go on a walk? Up to you, of course.”Eyes widening, Pippin found himself nodding enthusiastically. As they walked, he felt his arm and hand drifting towards hers. Their hands touched briefly, causing them both to blush and look away. After a while, they finally conceded and let their hands meet and their fingers knit together. Neither of them had worked up the courage to say anything, but Pippin realized that he loved her endlessly.

[sirencove2]

Rosemary part 2

He didn’t know anything about her, but he hoped beyond reason that he would soon. He waited outside the shop for a moment, waiting until she was farther down the road to enter. “That girl that just came in; who was she? Why was she so–”“Filled with rage?” the owner laughed. “Ah, that’s just Y/N. I’ve known her long enough to understand her, er..behavior. She’s having trouble with a recipe, that’s all. Before you go chasing after her – which I can tell you want to – I ought to warn you. She’s a bit..odd. She’s very temperamental when it comes to recipes. Very specific. She does her best to remain polite, but she tends to get lost in the recipe and her own little world, hence the flour and her hair. Personally, I think she’s a bit cracked.”“Y/N…” Pippin muttered, disregarding the rest. “Where does she spend her time, do you know?”The Hobbit sighed. “Clearly you heard nothing past her name. Tooks, I swear..just follow her, boy! Just don’t provoke her further. Now, did you come here to ask questions or to buy something?”Pippin blinked. “Sorry. I suppose I’ll buy something. I’ll just take a raspberry scone then. Extra powdered sugar, please.”Moments later, he was off, chasing a girl he had been told was ‘cracked,’ scone in hand. Normally he would’ve eaten it by now, but he was hoping she’d take it as a peace offering. Not that he’d done anything wrong, of course, but still; who wouldn’t like a fresh pastry to brighten their day?After several minutes of running, he finally reached her. She had slowed down considerably and seemed to be muttering to herself as she rifled through the small bag of goods she’d bought. Noticing the young Hobbit, she glanced up at him. “Hello, who are you?”“I’m Pippin Took, milady. I, uh..bought you this. I saw you were upset, and food tends to make me feel better, so I was hoping it’d do the same for you!” he stammered, shakily handing her the scone.Y/N smiled and took it gratefully. “Thank you, Master Took. I’m sorry if I looked..deranged earlier. Recipe’s giving me trouble; it’s very frustrating.”“Oh, could I help? After years of raiding my mother’s kitchen after mealtime, I’ve developed quite a sophisticated palette. That is, I’ll eat just about anything that’s put in front of me. Anyway, I could be a sort of taste-tester, if you’d like! Not that I think your cooking is gross, of course–”Y/N laughed. “No worries, I understand. I may not have siblings of my own, but I can understand that. Sure, I’d be more than happy to have some company. Keep in mind, though, I tend to ramble when I bake. I can’t help it; so many ideas and steps, it sort of tumbles out!”“That’s more than fine with me! After all, just being in the company of such a beautiful young lady is more than enough!”Y/N nearly stopped in her tracks, her face practically glowing red. “You..think I’m beautiful?”Pippin had not even realized he’d said the words out loud. Now what? Surely she would pummel him with her rolling pin. How could he say that? “I, er..yes?”She raised her eyebrow.“I mean, yes! Of course I do. You’re beautiful. Very beautiful"

[sirencove2]

Rosemary part 1

It was an ordinary day in the Shire when Pippin first saw her. Her jaw was set, her eyes wild, and her fists were clenched. Her hair had very clearly been aggressively thrown into a messy bun, though it was barely pulled back at all at this point. Her dress was coated heavily in flour and cocoa powder, and in her right hand she gripped a rolling pin. She was practically sprinting, too; stomping so hard and so quickly with each step that he could practically feel the impact of her foot hitting the ground from several feet away. The other Hobbits in the small, open market watched too, as if her fury put everyone in a trance. As she marched past him, her eyes locking with his for a moment. Her eyes were startlingly beautiful; rich (e/c), bright and sharp. She slowed ever so slightly as she noticed his expression, but quickly looked away and moved on as she wove through the crowd.Pippin watched as she approached her target: one of the most popular baking-supply shops. She opened the door far more gracefully and delicately than he would’ve guessed, smiling at the shopkeeper and politely gesturing to what she was looking for. Did he dare go closer? She was moving out of his line of sight now, and he felt the need to know more about her.

[sirencove2]

Into the Golden Light part 4

With soft, leisurely strides, you slowly approach Boromir with candid steps, face smooth and unbothered... unaffected by Boromir's apparent and raging sexism. But since Boromir is a man born from a line of kings, you know there is only one way to get through to him— plain, unadulterated logic."Gandalf is a Maiar just as I, and has taken on the form of an old man with a staff disguised as a walking stick, but I do not see you questioning his ability to fight." You begin, your tone coming out harsh. "What I wear and what gender I present as has no bearing on my fighting capabilities, and I owe no one an explanation for it. I have carved my way through mountainsides, I have parted oceans with my hands, silenced blizzards with my lips, and crushed fire-breathing dragons of apocalyptic proportions with my boots as if they were mere flies buzzing on a hot summer's day, I owe NOTHING to you! I do not owe you nor ANYONE an explanation about my worth as a person, and you will do well to remember that! Lest your head become separated from your shoulders, Son of Denethor, the false king of Gondor!"Boromir scrambles away from you so quickly that he stumbles over his own feet, fear struck and cowering like the cowardly lion cub he truly is at heart. With a harsh grunt, he falls to the ground and peers up at you standing before him, keeping his palms braced against the smooth stone floor beneath his prone form as he trembles before your might. You are perfectly centered— to him, the glaring sun forms a kind of halo behind your head, just further proving your high, divine status to all and any present."You are but a mere mortal. You can be crushed and killed, whereas I will simply recharge and come back in another physical form." You advise him in a much sweeter tone

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I'm so sorry for how long this is taking!

[sirencove2]

into the Golden Light part 3

"She is Maiar, like me— a primordial spirit of immense power, often considered divine in nature by both man and elf alike. Old.. ancient.. and very powerful.""Are you speaking of me or yourself, old friend?" You inquire with a soft, sweet smile as Gandalf leisurely strolls over to you before eventually coming to a complete stop. The two of you share a warm hug and a sigh of contentment as you bask in the glow of each other's company— it's been several long centuries since you were last able to see Gandalf in person, and you've missed your former mentor very, very much. After... parting ways with your father, Gandalf picked you up and raised you as his own alongside Elrond, who hid you from the world under the guise that you were one of his daughters. It worked for awhile, but... the ring calls. It calls for doom, it calls for destruction, and... you've heard it's scream."Such a snappy young turtle, you are." Gandalf affectionately croons before chuckling softly and lightly patting you on the back. "It's a blessing to see you again, my dear. What called you here? I thought you were to remain in Fangorn with the Ents for a bit longer? That is what Elrond told me, at least."The ring's cries called out for me. I heard them and left my home, posthaste." You admit hesitantly, staring at the unassuming golden trinket situated in the very center of a stone pedestal. "I heard it call out to my father as well, and I decided to investigate to see if the rumors were actually true. I didn't want to break my self-imposed exile and isolation, but... I knew I had to for the sake of the world. Truthfully, I had hoped I was... just hearing things. It's a pity to find that I was not.""Today is not the day you lose your mind." Gandalf cheekily replies while casually smoothing down his long, grey beard, pausing to lightly pat you on the shoulder in an affectionate, grandfatherly manner. "The ring has awakened. It was found in Hobbiton, with my dear halfling friends.. and it's angry. Even now, I can feel it's rage— bearing down on me, like an unbearable, sweltering heat.""Which mean my father intends to answer it's call for help as soon as he can. As I traveled here, I could feel my father's eye fixating upon Rivendell... and now I know why." You sigh, bowing your head in defeat. "I knew the day would inevitable come, but... I just didn't expect it to be so soon. If only we could prolong this age of. peace just a smidge—""What do you mean soon?" Boromir interjects with a clear tone of sass. "It's been years since Sauron last had the ring, and it's had many, many masters since. Have you lost track of the years, or perhaps did you lose your senses?""Boromir!" Gandalf practically hisses through clenched teeth, his wrinkled face screwed up in a rage as he rushes towards the loose-lipped man with his wrangled staff in hand. "You will watch your tongue around my pupil!" "But she is a woman!" Boromir tries to reason, much to the horror of his present company. "For God's sake, she's wearing a corset! How do you expect her to fight like that?!""You question my ability to fight? ...To battle, to crush, to destroy, to split the heads off of orcs and goblins all because of a mere corset? A piece of clothing that can be removed and replaced with the finest of elven or dwarven armor?" You inquire accusingly, speaking to Boromir in a such a calm voice that it manages to greatly unnerve him.

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Again I am so sorry for how long this is taking I will try to post every part at the same time and I am so sorry for the Cliffhangers!

[sirencove2]

Into the Golden Light part 2

What they find shocks them standing by a tall marble pillar is a shadowy cloaked figure, dressed in the most lavish of elven finery the world has to offer. A set of hands lightly tug at the hood, pulling it down to reveal a face your face. Smooth skin, unsullied with scars or imperfections as so many others are, there is no denying your beauty, your power, your presence. You're not what you appear to be, that much is sure. There is more at work here, more going on."A woman? Here, at the council?" says Boromir, sounding rather unimpressed by your presence during this council. As far as man is concerned, women were the fairer and more delicate sex and were meant to be at home, stoking the hearth and tending to the children. You appear elvish due to the significant point in your ears, and while he is not certain how the elves handle their women, he's almost certain that you were not supposed to be here. Shouldn't you be folding laundry or washing dishes? Were you a common she-elf? Surely you were not meant to be here, in a man's place—...But Aragorn quickly spins around and presses a harsh finger to his fellow brother's lips, scrunching his brows together almost angrily as he softly scolds Boromir for his clear lack of manners. The proper heir to the throne, Isildur's heir, is much wiser than his counterpart, that you can tell, and he knows when to hold his tongue and silence his lips—If only Boromir had taken a little longer to pay attention, perhaps he would have noticed by the way that Elrond and Gandalf rush out of their seats to greet you, that you are no ordinary woman, and are to be greatly respected. Perhaps if he had paid attention to history, as Aragorn does, he would know that you are no... ordinary woman... by any means of the word."It would be unwise to speak ill of the Maiar in their presence." Aragorn warns his brother, glancing back and forth between you and Gandalf as you both respectfully acknowledge each other from across the room with a polite bow of the head. "She is no common she-elf, Boromir. She is deserving of respect... clearly beyond your capabilities.""But who is she?" Boromir sasses with an exaggerated bobble of his head."She is often referred to as The Banshee of Fangorn by strangers because of their great fear of her, although cruelty does not play a part of her true nature. But she is to be respected— for she is the great witch-queen offspring of Sauron himself, and my pupil." Gandalf informs his present company as he slowly but surely bares his weight against his staff, using it's sturdy form to help rise him up onto his feet.

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Again I'm so sorry for the Cliffhangers but I can only put so many words I promise I'll put part 3 out immediately!

[sirencove2]

Into the Golden Light

He wasn't supposed to be here. Anywhere, but here.Frodo shouldn't be here, sitting in a chair carefully crafted and hand-carved by the finest of elven hands, surrounded by a strange mixture of friends and strangers while trying to decide on the fate of Middle Earth as they know it. Hobbits aren't supposed to wander too far from home, he knew that— growing up, it had been all he had heard from his neighbors, always complaining about how his Uncle disturbed the peace back in Hobbiton... back at the Shire. Oh, how he longs for it, now— to run through it's fields and forests, leaping across streams and trickling rivers would be bliss, utter and complete bliss. But instead here he sits, bearing the burden of his Uncle Bilbo's mistakes in the form of a tiny, inconspicuous ring while surrounded by man, dwarf, and elf. Frodo absentmindedly lifts a hand to his shirt to feel underneath it's comforting, soft linen, where his fingers cautiously graze across the ragged scar on his skin. He frowns at the resulting sting that rushes through his chest after touching his wound, causing him to instinctively tighten his ribcage as he sharply inhales— the poison magic within the witch-king's blade had nearly ended his life, and he had originally intended to go home after completing Gandalf's task, but... watching man, dwarf, and elf argue about the supposed prophecy and burden and who's-worthy and who's-worthless has the words flying from his pale lips before he can even truly comprehend them."I will take the ring!" Frodo cries out, his words initially falling upon deaf ears, thereby forcing him to repeat himself in a louder voice. Gandalf's face falls at the sound of Frodo's words, but hardens when he turns and acknowledges the brave, if not nervous look on his face. "I will take the ring to Mordor... though, I do not know the way.""I will bear this burden with you." Gandalf says with a wise, although tired smile. "For as long as it is your burden to bare."Strider— Aragorn, also rises to his feet, muttering a soft-spoken promise to protect the little hobbit from harm, giving him his sword. Legolas follows in Strider's footsteps, professing his bow's allegiance to the little creature before joining his side, where he is quickly joined by a hot-blooded dwarf with a nasty attitude. Lastly is Boromir, a son of Gondor. But just then, three more hobbits come bursting out of the woodworks, pledging to join the team. Nine volunteers in total— harbingers of hope, clad in leather, iron, and mithril. It's a start, but... it's not nearly enough— a fact that Lord Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, notices very swiftly. Out of all the members of the large council that had been gathered here on this day, only nine agree to take the ring?"Surely there are more brave souls that wish to accompany this... fellowship of the ring and ensure it's travel to Mount Doom?" Elrond begins in a strong, stern voice. "Nine is a start, but it will take more than that in order to break through the barriers and travel deep into the bowels of Mount Doom."No one dares speak. Frodo's shoulders drop as one of Gandalf's hands moves to rest upon them, gently rubbing and squeezing them for support as more and more uncomfortable bouts of silence pass. Elf, man, dwarf— no one dares to speak, lest they somehow end up volunteering themselves by sheer accident. Aragorn warily scans the surrounding council's faces, looking for even the slightest bit of hope and bravery, but... he finds none.—"I'll go."Every man present slowly pans their head around towards the source of the voice, speaking so softly their words were very nearly lost to the to the whistling wind.

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I'm so sorry I had to leave this on a cliffhanger because I can only do so many words of the at a time part 2 will be out soon!

#lord of the rings