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wolverina2002 · 1 year

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Alea´s life

I finally did a cohesive timeline of Alea´s life and thought I´d share.

October 5th 2933: Alea is born, after the death of her father, Arathorn II

2951: Aragorn leaves for the wilderness after learning of his heritage. Alea remains in Rivendell

2953: Alea follows her brother into the wild and finds Gawad

2956: Alea recieves Silmaril

2957: Alea, Elladan and Elrohir go to search for Maglor

2959: Alea means Haleth and his tribe and he volunteers to be their guide

2959-2967: Alea, the Twins ride along the west coast of Harad

2967: Alea seperates from the Twins to go north again. She and Maglor meet. Maglor teaches her.

2968: After spending the winter in the Gray Havens, Alea and Maglor return to Rivendell

2978: Alea follows rumors of witchcraft and finds the six year old Geralt. She takes him in.

2980: Alea in present in Lórien when Arwen promises her hand to Aragorn. She convinces Maglor to play one of his songs.

3001: Gandalf asks her for aid in locating Gollum. Alea agrees.

3007:

April 23th: Alea meets Faramir for the first time

Midwinter: Alea and Faramir meet again on the winter ball in Dol Amroth and dance all night

3008:

January 4th: Alea takes leave from Gondor to follow rumors of Gollum in Rohan

February 16th: Alea meets Éomer and they spend two months chasing rumors of Gollum. Éomer teaches her games and songs of the Rohirrim

May: Alea and Geralt meet by the Swanfleet and Alea is introduced to Jaskier. They follow a trail they hope to be Gollum´s and fight a swamp troll.

October 1th: Alea returns to Rivendell

3009:

March 18th: Alea returns to Ithilien and gifts Faramir the horse Gwaemeril.

April 30th: Aragorn joins her and requests help in tracking Gollum. The rangers spread out to hunt.

June 20th: Aragorn goes to search the Morgul Vale and Alea and Faramir turn to search along the edge of the Nindalf.

July 1th: Damrod´s bloodhound finds Gollum´s trail

July: Alea and the Rangers track Gollum into and through the Dead Marshes

August 1th: Aragorn rejoins them and they close in on Gollum

August 10th: Gollum is captured and Alea and Aragorn take him north. Alea and Faramir kiss openly

August 25th: Geralt, Gyltor, Hastur and Ferris find the siblings at the southern border of the Brown Lands and join them in bringing Gollum to Mirkwood

3010-3018: Alea continued to visit Faramir. They work to kindle hope in Gondor

The War Of The Ring

3018:

20th September: Alea, Gyltor, Hastur and Ferris are chased by warges and fight them off

22th September: Alea and her companions find the horse Graystorm in Tharbad and pick up Boromir´s trail

25th September: they safe Boromir from a pack of wolves and agree to take him to Rivendell.

20th October: They witness the flood down the Bruinen

25th October: Council of Elrond, Alea vows to aid Gondor

27th October: Alea, Maglor, Boromir and others ride for Fornost

1th November: The muster of the North begins

15th December: Alea, Aragorn and Boromir leave Fornost

17th December: they seperate by Bree. Alea rides south

25th December: Alea reaches Caradhras

25th-28th December: Alea crosses the Redhorn Gate

29th December: Alea reaches Caras Galadhon

3019:

5th January: Galadriel gifts Alea the Whist Flower clasp

6th January: Alea departs from Lórien

20th January: Alea crosses the Anduin and reunites with Faramir

16th February: A falcon brings the news of Gandalf´s death and the Followship leaving Lórien. Alea and Faramir plan for her to meet the Fellowship at Parth Galen

24th February: Fion brings the news of the boats passing Sarn Gebir. Alea sets out

26th February: Alea reaches Amon Hen and safes Boromir. The Three Hunters set out. Fion carries news of Sam and Frodo to Faramir.

28th February: Boromir is well enough to ride and they set out after the Three Hunters

30th February: Alea and Boromir come upon the Three Hunters and Éomer. Éomer warns Alea of snakes

From there, it´s pretty much identical to the timeline in canon.

#timeline #fanfiction #lord of the rings

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ao3feed-tolkien · 1 year

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darkness from above

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3sTxOJ0

by scriptish

The Nazgul attack at Sarn Gebir, through Legolas' eyes.

Words: 1227, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Legolas Greenleaf, Nazgûl

Additional Tags: lol, do people usually tag that one - Freeform, BAMF Legolas Greenleaf, Minor Violence, Help, How Do I Tag

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3sTxOJ0

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

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negreabsolut · 3 years

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Mapa del Nen Hithoel i voltants.

#mapa #plànol #Nen Hithoel #Àmon Hen #Àmon Lhaw #Tol Brandir #Emyn Muil #Sarn Gebir #El Senyor dels Anells #cartografia #Rauros #tolkienià #mapa fantàstic

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tolkienillustrations · 4 years

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Sarn Gebir Rapids by kovah

#LOTR #Anduin #Sarn Gebir

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warrioreowynofrohan · 2 years

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For the character ask game, what about Boromir? --tolkien-feels

Ooh, good one! Thank you!

One thing I love about them: His sense of responsibility. The thing about the Ring is that, when targeting good people, it doesn’t tempt them using their bad qualities, but using their good ones. Gandalf says it outright (the way of the Ring to my heart is by pity, pity for weakness and the desire for strength to do good). Sam suggests it to Galadriel, and her response implies it was already on her mind:

Sam: You’d put things to rights…You’d make some folk pay for their dirty work!

Galadriel: I would. That is how it would begin. But it would not stop with that, alas!

And it is the same with Boromir. He feels a strong sense of responsibility for his city and his people; he knows that they are in deadly danger, he knows it is his job as their commander to see to their defense, he knows they are vastly outmatched in military terms. And he knows they have no allies from whom they can expect reinforcements (remember what Théoden is like when we first see him in TTT). He knows time is of the essence; he took the time to go to Rivendell in hopes that they would offer something useful; and instead he’s been dragged far out of his way and the company decided to waste a month dilly-dallying in the unsettling forest. He needs to get home, and he’s not happy at the prospect that none of his companions will go with him and this whole journey will have been for nothing.

It is a devastating weight to know that you have to do a particular job right, to know that many people including your loved ones will suffer terribly if you don’t succeed, and to feel that you don’t know how to do it. And it’s that weight, much more than the desire for glory, that drives Boromir’s desire for the Ring. It looks like the only way out.

One thing I wish people realized about them: There’s a particular line in the appendices that I find hilarious and everyone else seems to be sleeping on it.

It did not seem possible to Faramir that anyone in Gondor could rival Boromir, heir of Denethor, Captain of the White Tower; and of like mind was Boromir.

It takes a second. It’s not saying the brothers thought each other were awesome; it’s saying, “Faramir thought Boromir was awesome. Boromir also thought Boromir was awesome.” It’s such an iconic piece of characterization offered in such a great, understated way.

One (or more) headcanons I have about them: He’s an outdoorsy type. Goes hiking in the White Mountains when he’s off duty, which is why he knew what to expect from Caradhras.

A second one: He didn’t particularly want to be Steward of the City. He admired and respected his father and had a high opinion of the steward’s position and prestige, and he understood the job would be his responsibility, but he preferred frontline combat to politics and governance. And he canonically wasn’t interested in romance, but the succession would have required getting married. The appendices specifically compare him to Eärnur, the last King of Gondor, who rode to Minas Morgul for a duel with the Witch-king and left no heir.

Third: Denthor sent him and not Faramir to Rivendell not just because ‘the way was difficult and dangerous’ but because he trusted that Boromir would put Gondor’s interests first, whereas Faramir might get caught up in the elven-ness of it all and get roped into anything.

One character I love seeing them interact with: This is challenging, because it involves untangling the movie and the books. In the movies, I love his interactions with Merry and Pippin; in the book, he has very little interaction with them, and I think this was a good addition on the movies’ part. In the book, the bulk of his interactions are with Aragorn. One that stands out to me, and that I find quite entertaining, is when they’re boating down Anduin and Boromir has been disagreeing with Aragorn on the route for a while, and they hit the rapids of Sarn Gebir and Boromir thinks it’s intentional. Paraphrased:

Boromir: Once again [as with Caradhras, and Moria, and Lothlórien], I think this is a very bad idea!

Aragorn: OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THAT!

One character I wish they would interact with / interact with more: I very much wish we’d gotten more / any ‘on-screen’ interactions between him and Faramir! And Denethor. There’s a lot of interesting family dynamics there to explore.

One (or more) headcanons I have about them and one other character: If he’d lived, he would have liked Éowyn a lot, and entirely approved his brother’s choice.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #boromir #denethor #faramir #eowyn #aragorn #gondor

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elvish-sky · 3 years

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Ready {Merry x Reader}

A.N: This request was awesome! I’m a big cartography girl, so it was really fun getting to use some maps for this. And the min-panic attack the reader experiences is based on my own, I get lots of little ones a lot, and rarely have a big one, so that’s where that came from. I hope you like this little fic, I’m sorry it’s so short!

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Hi there! I really enjoy reading your writing and your blog makes me smile everytime I see something new pop up! If you’re taking them, I’d like to request a Merry x reader fic where they are both working together to research the lands they expect to cross and trying to memorise maps for the journey ahead in Rivendell?

Word Count: 661

Pairing: Merry x Reader

Summary: In Rivendell, you and Merry study maps in preparation for the journey to destroy the ring.

Warnings: Fluff, Mini-Panic attack

****

Ready

“Okay, so if you’re at Sarn Gebir, and need to get to Morannon, what would you do?” You sat cross legged on the floor opposite the hobbit, maps spread all around.

“Cross the Anduin before the Falls of Rauros, then skirt the southwestern edge of the Emyn Muil, going around the Dead Marshes. Go southwest from there and you should reach Morannon,” Merry spoke with a confident smirk.

You nodded at his answer, and, pleased, he asked you a question. “How do we get to Lorien from here, Rivendell?”

“We are going to go due south along the Misty Mountains before reaching Caradhras, at which we’ll cross the mountains, head west, and eventually reach Lorien.”

He nodded at your answer. “Good job! It’s getting late, so I think we should turn in for the night. Let’s head back to our rooms.”

You smiled at him, taking the hand he offered to help you up. Entwined hands swinging between you, you walked through the halls of Rivendell back to your rooms.

The next day, you walked into the outdoor dining area to see Merry, eating next to Pippin while speaking with the man from Gondor who had joined the Fellowship with you. You were pretty sure his name was Boromir.

Merry was busy questioning him about his kingdom while Pippin looked on. “So, the two cities are Minas Tirith and Osigiliath, right, Boromir?”

The man shook his head. “Well, technically yes, but Osgiliath is just ruins. We hold it against the forces of Mordor at the moment. But yes, Minas Tirith is our main city. It’s mine and Aragorn’s eventual destination.”

Merry nodded, “And what do you know of Rohan?”

“A little. They are a great people, known as exceptional horse-riders. Known as the Rohirrim. And Rohan is a very hilly land, which explains the usefulness of horses.”

“That makes sense. Thanks, Boromir! Now, Y/N and I better get off to the library. Today we’re going to review the geography of Rohan.”

“Have fun, you two!” Pippin winked at Merry, and you reached out and punched him lightly in the arm. His cry of “Ow!” followed you out the door.

Later that day, you sat at a table while reading about the settlements of Rohan, of Helm’s Deep and Edoras. Breathing in and out, you tried not to panic, the full reality of where you were going to go setting in.

Merry turned the corner around the bookshelf to see you there, knees brought to you chest as your breathing quickened. Rushing over, he grasped your hand and squeezed it lightly.

“Hey. Y/N, look at me. What’s wrong?”

“I- I…” Your breathing was still fast, and Merry helped you take a deep breath, then another, and as your chest shuddered you finally spoke.

“I’m scared.”

His eyes widened in understanding. Knowing the best thing was just to let you talk it out, he asked, “Why?”

“Well, I mean I know we’ve been looking at these maps for a while but it’s kinda just sinking in that we’re going to travel so far. I mean, a few months ago I’d never left the Shire. I guess… I’m scared of the unknown.”

Merry nodded. “Me too.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Of course! Who doesn’t? But we’re going to see stuff no other hobbit has seen. And we’re helping Frodo, and that’s all that really matters.”

“That’s true,” you smiled up at the hobbit. “Thank you, Merry.”

“No problem,” he said as he sat next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so that you could rest your head on his.

Several weeks later, the full Fellowship stood at the gates of Rivendell, preparing to leave. As you got ready to step out into the world again, you turned your head to see Merry standing next to you.

“Ready?” Merry was smiling at you as he held out his hand.

You nodded, clasping his hand with your own. “Ready.”

Everything tag <3: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

#maiawrites #lord of the rings #the hobbit #jrr tolkien #merry #merry brandybuck #merry x reader #merry fanfiction #merry x y/n #merry x you #merry fic #merry fanfic #lotr fic #lotr fanfiction #boromir #pippin #boromir and his hobbits

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elliemarchetti · 3 years

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The Most Macabre of Scenes, The Most Terrible of Nightmares

As I hope the few souls reading this have already guessed, requests are open for anything on LOTR and The Hobbit. However, in this chapter the journey of the Fellowship continues, but various shadows loom over their safety and the hearts of its members.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Words: 2643

The attack was short and violent, but fortunately no one was injured. It was about midnight on their eighth day of travel when the Orcs stroke, a raid planned down to the last detail, one might say, as they had took advantage of the current, the crescent moon that lit up the sky and the abundance of strangely bright stars, reflecting like torches on the River’s surface. Their black-feathered arrows had fallen like lethal rain upon the Fellowship, but except for a few torn cloaks, there had been no damage. Hidden among the ferns of the western shore, as awake as they could be, everyone thought about what they saw in the sky after their enemies had unexpectedly retreated, trying to give a name to the great winged creature, blacker than the pits of the night, which had emerged from the south. Fierce voices rose up to greet it from across the water, and Elva could still feel the chills running through her and clutching at her heart, deadly cold like the memory of an old wound. She had killed it, with a single shot from the bow she had received as a gift in Lorien, but she was sure there were others, and she wanted nothing more than to get as far away as possible from that irreparably corrupted land. After that vision, Haldir had no longer spoken, but he was frowning and his mind was probably in Lothlorien, lost in calculating how long such a beast would take to reach the ends of the mallorn’s forest. Lying next to him, Elva wished she was able to say out loud that he could return, if he wished, that no one would’ve wanted him any harm for placing his homeland before a mission that didn’t even belonged to him, and that Galadriel herself would’ve probably been grateful for the warning, but selfishly, she couldn’t, so she hugged tighter her knees under the cloak, a reassurance and a way to fight the changing of the weather. When the day came, the mood of the world about them had become soft and sad. Slowly the dawn grew to a pale light, diffused and shadowless. There was mist on the River, and white fog swathed the shore, making the far bank impossible to see.

“I can’t abide fog,” said Sam, “but this seems to be a lucky one: now perhaps we can get away without those cursed goblins seeing us.”

“Perhaps so,” said Aragorn. “But it will be hard to find the path unless the fog lifts a little later on, and we must, if we are to pass Sarn Gebir and come to the Emyn Muil.”

“I don’t see why we should pass the Rapids or follow the River any further,” said Boromir. “If the Emyn Muil lie before us, then we can abandon these cockle-boats and strike westward and southward, until we come to the Entwash and cross into my own land.”

“We can, if we are making for Minas Tirith,” said Aragorn, “but that’s not yet agreed, and such a course may be more perilous than it sounds: the Entwash’s vale is flat and fenny, fog a deadly peril for those on foot and laden. I wouldn’t abandon our boats until we must, for the River is at least a path that cannot be missed.”

“But the Enemy holds the eastern bank,” objected Boromir, “and even if you pass the Gates of Argonath, coming unmolested to the Tindrock, what will you do then? Leap down the Falls and land in the marshes?”

The tones were heating up, and Elva thought it was time to intervene: “It’s not the way of the Men of Minas Tirith to desert their friends at need, and we’ll need your strength, if ever we are to reach the Tindrock.”

The mortal seemed satisfied with those words, and decided he would go as far as the tall isle, but no further.

“There I shall turn to my home,” he announced, “alone if my help hasn’t earned the reward of any companionship.”

Elva prayed that someone had decided to pursue that mission, but in order to keep an army as powerful as that of Boromir's father, if everyone chose to follow Aragorn, she would be the one to separate from the rest of the companions, this decided a long time ago, perhaps at the very moment Gandalf had chosen her for the Quest. That gloomy possibility, which was so far from her ideals, prompted her to wait for the mist to rise in silence, even as she and Haldir went exploring forward along the shore, while the others remained by the boats. She hoped to find some way by which they could carry everything to the smoother water beyond the Rapids, but even if the elven boats wouldn’t sink, that didn’t ensure they could come through Sarn Gebir alive, for none ever done so yet, and no road was made by the Men of Gondor in this region, for even in their great days their realm didn’t reach up Anduin beyond the Emyn Muil.

“There is a portage-way somewhere on the western shore, if I can find it,” revealed Haldir, so softly that for a moment Elva hardly noticed.

"I didn't tell the others," the elf went on, "because I was afraid they wouldn't believe me, after my miscalculations pushed us towards the Orcs attack; besides, I fought those creatures for a good part of my own adult life, and I could’ve imagined their simple but ingenious plan."

"No one was injured, that's the important thing," Elva replied, thinking that if anyone had risked being hit, it would’ve been him, as an arrow had ripped off both the cloak and the skin of the jacket from his shoulders.

"But if that had happened, the fault would’ve been mine alone, and whoever had accused me, even if only in grief, would’ve been right: you have already lost the Istar, and before I should’ve warned Aragorn it wasn’t wise to continue at night as he suggested, but I didn't, and now I don't want to deceive anyone until I’m sure that my memory doesn’t deceive me," he replied, resolute in the bitterness of someone who can't forgive himself.

"Why are you telling me, then?" Elva asked, unable to stop.

"Because I'm sure I can trust you, and I know you’ve faced the guilt, same or not, even if I still don’t know what you’re carrying it for,” he replied, with a naked and vulnerable honesty, which hit right to the point. She didn't like talking about her past, much less what she felt about it, yet he must’ve seen a difficult life in her eyes, a life that perhaps could’ve been more like his, if only she had been born in another realm. Like Lorien, Mirkwood was a wonderful but tricky place, where growing up as a half-breed wasn't easy at all, especially when you needed to do it by yourself. Getting to know Legolas, and later becoming his confidant and friend, had been a blessing, and she kept telling herself that her true life had begun the day a young prince was bewitched by the ability of a simple recruit with a bow and with words. She hadn't treated him well, weary as every orphan is, and perhaps that was precisely what had intrigued him, since at court no one spoke to him as an equal, much less had the courage to say what they really though, too busy trying to win the future king’s favours, since with the one in charge was so hard. Speaking of Thranduil, he had welcomed her as if she were his own daughter, instructing and having her instructed in the best possible way; but the king was a cold and distant father, rigid in his manner and limited in his displays of affection, not exactly what a girl without parents desires most. If loving Legolas as a brother had been simple, as natural as breathing and almost a matter of survival, the same couldn't be said of the oldest of the Greenleafs, but she had learned that too, and with it the art of concealing her heart, although with Haldir it was so difficult.

"And how can I know I should have the same trust in you?" she asked, her heart heavy. She needed to believe that he wouldn’t leave the Fellowship, even if she followed Boromir and everyone else went by water, and she needed to know if he would understand her decision, or if he would end up misinterpreting it.

"You can't, but to convince you otherwise, I'll tell you something that I'm sure should’ve remained a secret: Galadriel's Mirror showed me three visions, three possible futures, I find myself believing. I still don't want to talk about two, because it doesn't seem wise, but the most macabre of scenes, the most terrible of nightmares that I thought I could have, I feel like sharing: I don't know if the Fellowship had failed in its intent, or if it's the fate that awaits my homeland anyway, if events should take that turn, but darkness had fallen over the forest of golden trees when a flock of huge winged creatures, like the one you killed last night, swept over Calas Galadhon. The Lord and the Lady fought side by side with every common citizen, and a shower of arrows capable of obscuring the stars was sent from each talan towards the sky. I don't know how the battle could end, as my vision was limited to that, but I have seen you fight with us, and defend our young and old as if they were your own. I don't pretend to understand what those images meant, and why the Mirror decided to show them to me, but I believe it was the beginning of Lorien's Winter, the first day of a downhill road to inevitable ruin, yet you were there by our side, and I don't think you'd fight for the land of someone you don’t trust,” he concluded, just as enigmatic as his ruler. Did he meant he understood her malfidence towards the Galadhrim, or was it really just his way of assuming that she would always trust him, to the point of risking death for a place that did not belong to her? There was no way of knowing but asking, and it didn't seem appropriate, fearing that he too might ask her what the Mirror had shown her. Death, she might’ve replied, no matter it was the mallorn’s, his people’s or Haldir’s himself, but she didn't want to talk about it anymore, she just wanted to forget his pale skin in the moonlight, the dust, sweat and blood surrounding her like a sea that smelled of the Enemy's wickedness instead of salt, so she fell silent.

“It cannot yet have perished,” muttered Haldir under his breath, after a while. “Light boats used to journey out of Wilderland down to Osgiliath, and still did so until a few years ago, when the Orcs of Mordor began to multiply.”

“Even if we find the path, peril will grow with every mile we go forward, for it lies ahead on every southward road,” replied Elva

They found what they were looking for just before noon, with the head of the Rapids half a mile below them: a track leading to a good landing, a little more than a mile long, was still serviceable, not far beyond the stream clear and smooth again, though running swiftly. The hardest task was to get the boats and baggage to the old portage-way, lying well back from the water-side near which they were camped, and running under the lee of a rock-wall, a furlong or more from the shore. “I fear we must leave the River now, and make for the portage-way as best we can from here,” said Haldir, once back.

“That wouldn’t be easy, even if we were all Men,” said Boromir.

“Yet such as we are we will try it,” Aragorn replied peremptorily.

“We will!” confirmed Gimli, and although the task was difficult, it was nevertheless completed, the goods taken out of the boats and brought to the top of the bank, where there was a level space, and the boats themselves drawn out of the water and carried up, proving to be far less heavy than any had expected; at last, all was removed to be laid on the portage-way and with little further hindrance, save from sprawling briars and many fallen stones, they moved forward all together. Fog still hung in veils upon the crumbling rock-wall, and to their left mist shrouded the River: they could hear it rushing and foaming over the sharp shelves and stony teeth of Sarn Gebir, but they couldn't see it. There the portage-way, turning back to the water-side, ran gently down to the shallow edge of a little pool scooped in the river-side, not by hand, but by the water swirling down from Sarn Gebir against a low pier of rock that jutted out some way into the stream. Beyond it the shore rose sheer into a grey cliff, and there was no further passage for those on foot. Already the short afternoon was past, and a dim cloudy dusk was closing in. Sitting beside the water, they listened to the confused rush and roar of the Rapids hidden in the mist; they were tired and sleepy, and their hearts were as gloomy as the dying day at the thought of spending there another night, even if it seemed inevitable, given the general fatigue. Luckily, nothing worse than a brief drizzle of rain an hour before dawn happened, and as soon as it was fully light and the fog was thinning, they started. Keeping as close as they could to the western side, they saw the dim shapes of the low cliffs rising ever higher, shadowy walls with their feet in the hurrying river. In the mid-morning the clouds drew down lower, and it began to rain heavily, forcing them to drew the skin-covers over their boats to prevent them from being flooded and drifted on; little could be seen before or about them through the grey falling curtains but it didn’t last long, the sky above growing lighter and suddenly opening, dismissing fogs and mists too. Before the travellers lay a wide ravine, with great rocky sides to which clung, upon shelves and in narrow crevices, a few trees; as they sped along with little hope of stopping or turning, whatever might meet ahead, Elva peered forward, seeing in the distance two great rocks approaching. Like pinnacles or pillars of stone they stood, tall, sheer and ominous, creating a narrow gap among which the boats could only pass one by one. They were the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings, vast grey figures silent but threatening, shaped and fashioned as two great kings of stone with blurred eyes and crannied brows frowning upon the North. The left hand of each was raised palm outwards in gesture of warning, while in each right hand there was an axe and upon each head there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished Kingdom, instilling awe and fear in the Fellowship travelling in boats frail and fleeting as little leaves, under the enduring shadow of the sentinels of Numenor. Passing into the dark chasm of the Gates, sheer rose the dreadful cliffs on either side, while the black waters roared and echoed, and a wind screamed over them. What a horrible place it was, but it must’ve been even worse for Aragorn, a king in exile who was finally returning to his land only to see it filled with the noise of wind, rushing water and echoing stone.

#haldir x fem oc #haldir of lothlorien #aragorn #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #boromir #gandalf the grey #galadriel #legolas greenleaf #thranduil greenleaf #gimli son of gloin #lotr #the fellowship of the ring

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sweetearthandnorthernsky · 3 years

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and one white tree

@oc-growth-and-development’s oc-tober day 7: power, items of power count right?

saelinriel recieves a gift from the iron garrison and the elves of lorien for the part she played during the attempt to re-take moria and to storm dol guldur. (or, my attempt at answering the How Does This Captain Banner/Standard Thing Work, Really?)

readable on ao3 here.

~~~~~

nervously, you make your way up the ladders that bring you to the halls of celeborn, where lady galadriel sent word for you to find her.

for a brief moment, you wonder if you have done something wrong, when you are guided to where the lady of lorien was waiting.

"you have done so much for us, - of lorien and the iron garrison," she begins, rising from her seat silently, with barely even the rustle of her dress, "and our gratitude is near immeasurable."

you frown and she gives you a cryptic smile that you don't quite understand as she crosses the room to retrieve a medium sized, elegantly carved box.

"by the fair stars above, i give you this, valiant captain, in hopes it will aid you," she says and slowly hands the box to you.

it is incredibly light for its size, and you look back up at her, startled. she smiles again and gestures for you to place the box on the small table and open it. you set it on the wood with a soft thud and swallow nervously as you open it.

at first, the box looks... empty.

then the clouds that have drifted over the moon pass, and you can see something made of fabric that is very neatly folded. carefully, you reach for it and you hold the fabric so lightly that if the wind were blowing, you are certain it would be carried away.

it feels like holding water, if such a thing were possible, like it was made from the same fabric the cloak lord celeborn gave you. like the cloak, it is hard to tell exactly what color it is, but it looks, this moment, to be deep blue-silver, like water under the stars.

the silver - no, this is brighter than silver, almost shining white... was it the fabled mithril you have heard broin and bori speak of? - thread, sewn like the bole and branches of the white tree, glistens in the moonlight, and the clear, white gems used - and painstakingly carved to the minutest detail - as leaves sparkle like the stars.

the fabric itself seems to have the starlight caught in it and the longer you hold it, the more you feel your spirit renew and you feel stronger and less weary, like the virtue of the lembas had been put into its very essence.

even so, you glance up at the lady of lorien nervously.

you are still not quite at ease around her and, though you know that she has no reason to harm you, she still feels... perilous, if that is the word. after a brief moment of consideration you conclude it is almost as if she is like the rocks of sarn gebir. if you are not careful, you can dash your boat to pieces on them, or you can drown in the anduin, but neither rocks nor river would be to blame.

you skim your fingers over the tree and a lump forms in your throat, before you bow your head in reverence and respect as you come back to yourself.

"thank you, my lady, for your generosity," you manage in a whisper, though you are almost too overwhelmed to speak, especially after your folly with mazog this gift feels almost like it is too much.

"it is the only gift befitting a captain of your caliber," lady galadriel smiles kindly before drawing herself up, stern and beautiful, like a great queen. "may it serve you well on your road ahead, wherever that lies."

you nod, though you do not see the valiant captain that she sees, and you see... you.

ordinary you, the youngest of five, barely out of your childhood spent playing at being one of the great captains the children of gondor idolized - thorongil, boromir or faramir, cirion, anarion or isildur, vidumavi galadwen, and great ship-captains of numenor - with your friends.

"haldir," lady galadriel says, bringing you from your thoughts, "has been entrusted with keeping safe the staff for the standard, though i also have for you this." she pauses and, for a moment, it is like she does not see you. then she looks back at you again as she brings forth something in a small pouch.

carefully, you re-fold the banner and place it in the box. you take it from her gently and the pouch is heavy for its size.

you frown and untie the laces. and a spear-head shining like the moon falls into your hand. it is incredibly keen, and you almost gasp in surprise.

you thank her once again, profusely, and you ignore the tears of gratitude coming to your eyes. she bids to you find haldir, and hands you the folded standard.

you bow once, low, and go to find your friends.

#my fic #oc-tober #saelinriel #candaith🤝sae: pretending to be aragorn #listen this is too funny to me #especially since ... a good portion of sae's family comes from dol amroth/pelargir/the gondorian coast #despite mostly living in minas tirith for almost as long as she could remember before being sent to bree #she's HAD to have heard of This Guy named thorongil #and as kids do #they Play These Games #as these heroes #upon arriving to pelargir and realizes 'thorongil' is in fact aragorn #her whole life flashes before her eyes #also can you actually format the staff for a standard into a spear? probably not but idc i think it's Cool and also practical

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