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#a female ringwraith
merilles · 7 months
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@tolkienocweek day 2: bad guys
unlike her brethren, dúvain's reasons for accepting a ring of power were not founded upon greed. she did not desire power and wealth, nor endless life; she was a young woman in unfortunate circumstances, cursed by the people of númenor, alone and powerless. she was deceived by false promises of protection, love, and freedom; only to her misery and ruin, for when she pledged her service, she was unaware that her patron was the dark lord sauron. to the shadows she went, her name and face lost to time, her will bound forever to the ruling ring.
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A bride of darkness
At the same time, in the Temple of Shadows:
A major change of her body had happened only a month ago. Visenya had woken up to find a thin trail of blood on her thighs. As the Consorts and female healers had explained what this meant, she was now to join their ranks formally as the successor of Isret, who had passed away from high age not long ago. 
“I am here, Master.” 
Just like her fellow Consorts when they underwent the closest thing to a wedding ceremony, she wore the clothing style of Kemet with a white linen dress and gold jewelry. If any of the former Targaryen loyalists had seen Visenya in this moment, the illegitimate daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark was a almost perfect ghost image of her paternal grandmother Rhaella as a similarity awfully young bride dressed in white and gold on the day she and Aerys was forced to marry each other by their own parents, siblings Jaehaerys II and Shaera Targaryen.  
“You seem oddly pleased to become a bride of darkness, girl. ” 
Where Khamûl stood between two large fires in the middle of the peristyle courtyard, nothing had changed about his appearance outside that he actually had donned his rarely-used gold mask so Visenya could see something under  the black hood. 
“Between this and the life as a royal princess where I would have been forced to marry my own half-brother and half-sister because my idiotic father insisted on naming us after the founding trio of his family line, I perfer this life as Your Consort where I can remain untouched by a man and will never have to worry about dying in childbirth, Master.” 
In a sudden act of boldness, she took the golden goblet herself from the table instead of waiting for him to hand her it, even smirking at the former Farao with the rim close to her lips. 
“Just drink the portion that will put an end to your ability to carry children and the red river of womanhood that is your fertility, girl. My own Master in Mordor is calling me for a mission, and I do not want to waste time. ” 
Whatever it was in the portion, Visenya did not know. But if the loss of her fertility was the cost to become a Consort, then she was willing to take it. She had seen enough visions of Rhaenys and Aegon over the years to know that whatever dumb daydreams of a “happy married sibling trio” that Rhaegar had imagined in his head, it would never have worked between them. This was her own revenge on that idiotic reason for her to be born in the first place. 
“The reborn conqueror trio only existed in your daydreams…you imbecile Silver Prince who sired me outside your legal marriage. ” 
Taking a deep breath, Visenya emptied the goblet in one go as a final spitefulness against Rhaegar and what he had planned for her and her two older half-siblings without even thinking of that they were living persons with their own personalities and thoughts, not some pieces of a game to be used as he pleased. It tasted horrible, and between the stabbing pains coming from her stomach area now as she almost knelt from the pain, she could see how Khamûl raised his gauntleted hand against her forehead.  
“From this night, a new Consort has risen among those who are chosen. This temple of darkness is both your home and tomb. No mortal man shall touch you, no child shall ever grow inside you. Your magic is mine to use as I desire, and your life is mine to use. ”
Despite the pain as Khamûl effectively branded her as his by magic so she now had a crook and flail crossing each other on her forehead, Visenya opened her eyes. Looking in the distance, she smiled a creepy smile that would have freaked out anyone who had seen Aerys in his cruel madness. 
“Let me see how well you will do in the same role as you played prior to my birth, uncle Eddard...but with your own sweet daughters as the ones vanishing all suddenly and needing to be found by you.” 
Visenya did not have the gift of foresight, but she did not doubt the feeling that soon, House Stark would see history repeat itself in some manner. And because she remembered the sight of how he had called her original, stillborn body for a monster because of the dragon-like birth defects, she now desired to witness her maternal uncle have a taste of how his firm belief in honor would not always stop dangers from finding his family. 
“Do not use any magic by yourself before I return. You are familiar with what happens if someone...disobeys my rules here in the Temple. ” 
As Khamûl mounted the black horse, he took off the golden mask and tossed it over to Visenya as a sign that the wedding ceremony to make her his newest Consort was over before riding off towards the West, vanishing into the night. Still, she made a point of kneeling in a deep prostration towards where her Master had ridden off, as a sign of respect. 
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warrioreowynofrohan · 7 months
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Favourite Female Tolkien Character Poll - Round 2, Match 13
Berúthiel
A queen of Gondor remembered for her cats. From a note in Unfinished Tales:
She was the nefarious, solitary, and loveless wife of Tarannon, twelfth King of Gondor and first of the ‘ship-kings,’ who took the crown in the name of Falastur (‘Lord of the Coasts’), and was the first childless king. Berúthiel lived in the King’s House in Osgiliath, hating the sounds and smells of the sea and the house that Tarannon built below Pelargir ‘upon arches whose feet stood deep in the wide waters of Ethir Anduin’; she hated all making, all colours and elaborate adornment, wearing only black and silver and living in bare chambers, and the gardens of the house in Osgiliath were filled with tormented sculptures beneath cypresses and yews.
She had nine black cats and one white [my note: sonehow this feels like a metaphor/imagery for Sauron and the Ringwraiths], her slaves, with whom she conversed, or read their memories, setting them to discover all the dark secrets of Gondor, so that she knew those things ‘that men wish most to keep hidden’, setting the white cat to spy on the black, and tormenting them. No man in Gondor dared to touch them; all were afraid of them, and cursed when they saw them pass.
…her name was erased from the Book of the Kings…and King Tarannon had her set on a ship alone with her cats and set adrift on the sea before a north wind. The ship was last seen flying past Umbar under a sickle moon, with a cat at the masthead and another as a figure-head on the prow.
Fíriel of Gondor
The last surviving child of King Ondoher of Gondor, under Númenorean law she would have been the heir to the throne. She married Arvedui Last-king of Arnor, and he sought to claim the throne of Gondor in her name. He was refused, and the line of kings of Gondor ended two generations later, while the kingdom of Arnor ended with Arvedui.
Apparently no one argued that Fíriel herself rather than her husband should inherit the throne.
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skyeet-the-writer · 1 year
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Lady of Enmond
Chapter Two: Fire and Blood
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omg not me writing two chapters in one day bc i have nothing better to do??? that's crazy
legolas greenleaf x female!reader
summary: with the ringwraiths on their tails, strider, y/n, and the hobbits trek through the wild, slowly making their way to rivendell with little trouble. but one should never leave hobbits unsupervised with food and firewood
word count: ~4.1k
warnings: violence, hunting, mentions of death, mentions of blood
<previous next>
You can't even have a good sleep, because what feels like minutes later, you're startled awake, nearly falling out of your chair. Screams are coming from across the road, screams that are very akin to a pig squealing before a slaughter. Somehow, though, this one is different. It sends a chill down your spine and makes your hair stand up on end.
They're here.
Aragorn is sitting beside the window, staring outside. The Hobbits are awake as you stand and walk beside him, peering out the fogged-up window.
"What are they?" Frodo asks in a hushed voice as if they could hear him.
The Ringwraiths continue to scream in anger. You did trick them, after all.
"They were once Men," Aragorn answers. "Great kings of Men. But then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one, falling into darkness. Now, they are slaves to his will."
Looking out the window, you see them. Great tall beings, wrapped in black cloaks, mounting their horses, dark as night, with red eyes that pierce through the darkness. Just looking at them terrifies you.
Aragorn turns back to the Hobbits. "They are the Nazgul. Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times, they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."
At this, Aragorn says that you all must leave by morning. The Ringwraiths have left Bree, likely to go scout more.
"Rest up," he says to the Hobbits. "We leave in the morning."
As the Hobbits settle back down, you look at Aragorn. "I'll take this watch. You need sleep."
Aragorn sits back in his chair. "I do not."
You roll your eyes and take off your bow from around your torso. "Yes, you do. You haven't slept since last night. The sun rises in a few hours, you need to get it while you can."
Finally, your friend nods reluctantly. "Fine. I can't argue with you." He gives you a sly smile as he takes his scabbard off of his belt.
With a smirk, you sit back down in your own chair. "I am a Lady, after all. My father taught me to negotiate the second I could speak."
~*~
The sun rises much quicker than you would have thought. You had been drawing in your journal and writing a letter to your father, explaining your journeys, leaving out the part about how Sauron might have risen again. You just tell him how you and Aragorn met Hobbits in a bar. He doesn't need to know everything.
Your company is set out soon, hustling out of Bree and in the direction of Rivendell. The walk is long and by your calculations, it would take just over four days, possibly five. You know that you and Aragorn can walk for days, but you're not quite so sure of the Hobbits.
As the sun rises higher in the air and late morning approaches, you finally approach the woods. You've been pulling along a pony, Bill, what one Hobbit told you. The Hobbits seem kind enough, of course, weary of you and your friend. You don't blame them. The horse seems to like you, though.
"Where are you taking us?" Frodo finally asks after jogging for a few hours.
You sniffle, your nose slightly runny. Curse this cold morning air. "Into the wild."
When you enter the woods, you hand off the pony to a Hobbit in the back. This one is slightly bigger with blond hair. Sam? Is that his name?
With all the rain last night, the ground is still wet and slightly muddy. This is the kind of weather you like, especially in the forest. It's where you were raised, after all. The smell of fresh air and pines always brings you home. You know the forest like the back of your hand, knowing which trees are which, the names of all the animals. Though you're less familiar with these woods, they're still just as comforting.
You walk alongside Aragorn as the Hobbits begin to mumble to themselves. You catch a snippet of their conversation.
"...servant of the enemy would look fairer, and feel fouler."
"They're both foul enough."
With your mouth slightly open in faux shock, you whisper to Aragorn, "Are they calling us ugly?"
There's a ghost of a smile on his face and you swear he chuckles under his breath, pushing you forward.
"But where is he leading us?"
"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee," Aragorn answers loud enough for them to hear. "To the house of Elrond."
The Hobbits gasp and murmur. "Did you hear that? Rivendell! We're going to see the elves."
As you keep walking, the air gets colder as you climb the hills. You break through the forest and walk through clearings. Patches of snow litter the ground. You scoop a bit up into your hand, form it into a ball, and throw it at a tree, watching it smash with a small smile.
After a while, you begin to hear the Hobbits mumbling among themselves. You turn to see what the matter is and pause. They're unloading and sitting on the ground. You poke Aragorn's arm to get his attention.
"Gentlemen," you tell them politely. "We don't stop until nightfall. We need to keep moving.
"What about breakfast?" asks one of the Hobbits, Pippin, you recall, his accent thick.
You tilt your head, a hand resting on your knife casually. "We've already had it."
"We've had one, yes," he admits. "But what about second breakfast?""
With a roll of his eyes, Aragorn turns and keeps walking. Second breakfast? What even is that? Slowly, you turn away and continue walking.
"Don't think they know about second breakfast, Pip," says another Hobbit, Merry, slinging his bag over his shoulder to follow.
Pippin follows him, asking, "What about elevensies? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? They know about them, don't they?"
"I wouldn't count on it," answers Merry.
With a small smile, you pull out an apple and toss it to Merry above the bushes. He catches it and hands it to Pippin, patting him on the shoulder. You toss another one and it hits Pippin in the face. With a gasp, you cover your mouth. "Sorry!"
As you continue to walk through the bushlands, the snow begins to melt more and the sky gets cloudier. You don't think it will rain again, but you can never be sure. Eventually, you end up in marshlands, with wet, murky water up to your knees in spots and flying bugs and mosquitos.
You're soaked to the bone and your legs are cold, but you keep going. You've always loved adventure, no matter how gross to messy. Your cloak protects you from the biting bugs, but you shoo them away from your face.
The Hobbits aren't having any more luck. Sam is slowly encouraging the horse to follow along and the other three are slipping and sliding. Probably because they don't have shoes, but then you suppose none could ever fit their feet.
Loudly, you hear one complain, "What do they eat when they can't get Hobbit?"
You persevere through the marshlands until nightfall. The lands are a bit less mucky through here, and Aragorn finds a spot to camp for the night. You're all hungry, only having had breakfast this morning.
"Shall I go hunt?" you ask, already taking your bow from your torso.
Aragorn nods. "If you would. You've always been better at it."
"Yeah, I have." And then you head into the woods. It's almost a full moon, so light should not be a problem.
Another good thing about living in the forest for your entire life is how quickly you learned to hunt as a girl. Your father took you when you were old enough and you immediately found your flow. It was one of your favorite things to do, even if it was a bit boring.
You trudge through the forest quietly, minding the branches and sticks on the ground. You're looking for a deer, only something that big will feed the six of you. A doe will work, but you wouldn't pass up a buck.
When you're looking for a deer, almost everything else seems to pop out. Squirrels run across your path carelessly and birds sing above, getting ready to rest for the night. Finally, you approach a small creek and decide to wait there for something. Even deer get thirsty.
You crouch down behind a bush but still with enough of a view. To be prepared, you draw an arrow and nock it so you're ready when anything pops out.
You wait for a while, longer than you would have thought. The woods are still and quiet down as the moon rises higher and your breath comes out in a fog. Your knees hurt and you shift.
A twig snaps from the other side of the creek and you perk up, peering through the woods. Slowly, a pretty doe approaches the creek and bends down to drink.
Slowly, you draw back your string and aim. You want to aim for the heart or lungs for an easy kill. You never want an animal to suffer.
So you wait until she's done drinking. You'll have a better shot and if you stay low, she won't hear you. So you wait. She takes a while, she must have been thirsty. But finally, she slowly stands extending her neck too look around.
Before she can leave, you release your arrow, and it thunks right into her heart. She falls and quickly stills.
Your feet splash in the creek as you make sure she's dead before hoisting her up over your shoulder to get back to the group. She's heavy and you grunt, but you can manage.
They are still right where you left them, as you expected.
You skin it as Aragorn gets it on the fire and roasts it in chunks. You cook all of it, wrapping up the leftovers for the rest of the journey.
The Hobbits fall back asleep soon and you lay on the ground, hands behind your head as Strider softly sings a tune in Elvish while smoking from his pipe. You're looking up at the stars, knowing they're the same ones as above your village. Maybe your sister is looking up at them right now?
"Who is she?" Frodo asks out of the blue and you nearly shit yourself, clutching a hand over your heart. You sit up and realize he's talking to Aragorn. "This woman you sing of."
Aragorn hesitates to answer, you knew he would. He's always hesitant to speak of her. "'Tis the lady of Luthien. The Elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal." He sighs heavily and you feel bad for him.
"What happened to her?" Frodo asks quietly.
Aragorn sighs again and shakes his head. "She died," and he turns away.
You look at Frodo and say, "Get some sleep, Frodo. We still have a long way to go."
He nods and settles back down, pulling his blanket over himself. You look at Aragorn. He's still smoking and you lay back down, counting the constellations once more.
You're not sure when, but eventually, you fall asleep. And, like always, you dream. You always dream. Most of the time, you can't remember them. When you can, however, they're important. And this one seems like it is.
In your dream, you're standing in the dark, the grass wet beneath your feet. You're not wearing shoes because, for some reason, you never do in your dreams. To one side of you is a great black tower you know is the Orthanc, the great tower of Isengard. To your other side are trees, far and as wide as the eye can see. Tall trees, great and old ones.
For a moment, you wonder why you're here. You've never been to Isengard before, you've only heard stories. Suddenly, you hear a crack and a crash and look back toward the forest. A tree has fallen. And then another crack, a creak, and a crash. Another tree has fallen. No. Not fallen. It's been pulled down.
You're too far away to see clearly, and you can't move. You can never move in your dreams. But you swear you can see men beside the great trees, tying ropes around them and pulling them down. You can hear their grunts and shouts from here.
But something about them seems...different. Their voices sound different, not human.
Another tree falls to the ground and you wake up.
~*~
You keep walking all day. Through the marsh a bit more then through the woods again before finally breaking out into open land just to climb up some more hills. You've been through this land a few times, but it's still just as unfamiliar to you.
Part of you considers bringing up your dream to Aragorn. Oftentimes, your dreams have deeper meanings. Sometimes, even, what happens in your dream comes true in real life. One times, you dreamt your cursed mother burned your brother's arm with a hot ember. A few days later she did.
But another part of you decides to wait. Surly it can't be that important. And besides, you all still have much to worry about.
As you travel, you attempt to make conversation with the Hobbits. By now, you've learned their names. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. The pony's name is Bill, something you found amusing.
"What's so funny?" asks Sam, still hesitant to trust despite how many chunks of deer he had the night before.
You still your laughter and say, "Oh, nothing, nothing! I just think it's quite cute, Bill." You rub the horse's ear and he whinnies.
As evening approaches, your feet are killing you. Looking back, you should have gotten a new pair of boots before you left Bree. You knew it.
Aragorn slows and you nearly run into him, stopping just before you run into his back. "Hey."
He's looking at something and you follow your gaze, breath hitching in your throat. "Oh."
Before you is a great ruin on a hill. Nothing too fancy, but you know better. It's the ruins of a watched town, Amon-Sul.
"This was the great watchtower of Amon-Sul," Aragorn says, somewhat forlornly. He turns to the Hobbits and says, "We shall rest here tonight."
After trecking halfway to the top, Aragorn states that it's as good a spot as any. The Hobbits quickly take off their packs and sit down heavily, panting. You sot on the edge, swinging your feet. It's windy up here, and the clouds are moving fast.
Aragorn steps away from the edge and takes off something from his back. You turn to see what's going on to see him handing the Hobbits small swords, four of them. Though you'd call them more like daggers, they're the perfect size for them.
"These are for you," he says. "Keep them close. We're going to have a look around." He looks at you.
You turn your eyes away from the Hobbits googling at their new weapons to look at Aragorn with upturned brows. "Come on, Aragorn, can't I just sit?"
He holds out his hand.
Reluctantly, you take it and haul yourself up, feet immediately hurting again. With a sigh, you leave some of the deer meat with the Hobbits. Aragorn begins to make his way back down. "Stay here," you tell them. "And be quiet and careful." Then you turn to follow your friend back down.
~*~
"How are you doing, Y/N?" Aragorn asks as you both do a perimeter check around the fortress. He said it was to make sure there's nothing around, but part of you feels like he needed to get away from the Hobbits. As sweet as they are, they had never been on a journey like this before, even you knew that. It was hard. And they let you know every second.
You sigh, trudging along. Honestly, you've been better. You haven't bathed in several days, your hair is a mess, and your feet are killing you. So, you answer, "Pretty good, considering. You?"
He just sighs instead of answering. You laugh.
You both walk around in silence like you both normally do. You're both similar in that way. You sometimes prefer silence over the conversation.
In fact, your silence is quite nice until a faint scream ruins it.
It's that same scream you heard two nights before. Your nerves are set on fire again and you exchange an urgent look with Aragorn. They found them.
Quickly, quicker than your feet liked, you both raced back the way you came, dodging branches, and jumping over rocks. Aragorn's sword is drawn and your bow is loaded as you run back up the ruins of Amon-Sul. Above you, the sounds of struggle are steadily getting louder. Clanging of swords and grunts of Hobbits. You pass by the camp, where you note the embers of a fire still smoking. You shake your head and click your teeth. Hobbits.
Finally, you reach the top and you're not prepared for what you see.
Five of the Nazguls, tall and dressed in dark armor are standing, crowded around something. Three of the Hobbits are down, but look unharmed. Merry, Pippin, and Sam. Then where is Frodo?
A scream cuts through the air, this one mortal, nothing that the Wraiths could produce. Your blood runs cold and for a moment, you're frozen. Frodo.
But then Aragorn lets out a cry, he leaps and slices at the Nazguls, a torch in his hand. Where'd he get that from?
After that, your mind jumps into action mode and you let loose an arrow and it flies towards a Nazgul's empty face. Literally, empty, you can see nothing but pitch black beneath his hood. It screams and reaches towards you, but you've already knocked another arrow and it sinks into its face again.
You can't see Frodo still, but you know where he is. The air seems to ripple just a bit behind where you're now standing and part of you knows it's him. You've drawn another arrow while Aragorn waves the torch in front of you. The Ringwraiths don't seem to like that, as they cringe away from it. Is that their one weakness?
Firing another arrow that clangs off of one's armor, you don't let that deter you. You haven't been in too many battles, much less against these things, but your body knows what to do. Stay focused, keep moving, and be aware of everything at all times.
There's a scream of agony behind you and you risk a glance. Frodo has reappeared, but he's much paler now. He's shaking and shivering and his shoulder is bleeding as he cries out.
There's a clang of metal and you turn to let fly another arrow, deflecting against a sword.
Sam is up and rushes to his friend's side as you and Aragorn push them back. You shoot another and it sinks into a Nazgul's hood. They're all screaming so loud you feel like your ears will soon bleed.
Aragorn's torch makes contact with a Nazgul's rope and it lights on fire, the being itself screaming in pain. You laugh and shout, "Nice!"
The Ringwraith on fire now stumbles back into two of his friend, also setting them on fire. Aragorn pushes one back to the edge where it has no other choice but to fall. You, however, are out of arrows. You throw your bow to the side and duck the swing of a blade, stumbling backward. "Aragorn!" you cry, screaming and rolling out of the way as a blade clangs at the stone where you just were.
Something hurdles through the air and the torch lands smack in the center of the thing's face. It screams and falls over the edge. Your friend rushes over and hauls you up, touching your face gently. "Are you alright?"
You look up at him and nod. "Yeah," you say breathlessly.
Frodo cries out again and you both break apart to rush over to him. He's on the ground surrounded by his friends. He's just as pale and still writing in pain.
"Help him, Strider," says Sam, on the brink of tears.
Something glints beside Frodo and you pick it up. It's a dagger and you know what it is just off of stories. "He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." The blade itself disintegrates into the air and you throw the hilt down angrily.
Frodo cries out again.
Hurridly, Aragorn picks him up again, despite Frodo's wails. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine."
Quickly, you pick up your arrows and bow and stow them back on your person, running to catch up with the others. Aragorn has made the Hobbits pick up camp and you assist them before running after Aragorn, who is already halfway down the hill by now.
You make your way into the forest, knowing that the wraiths are still very much out there, very much not dead, and very angry. You're kneeling beside Frodo, hushing him and pushing back his sweaty hair. Yet his skin is cold to the touch. His cries quickly get quieter as he tiers out. He's not bleeding, but with this, he wouldn't. No, he's been poisoned. There's still a shade of the blade inside him.
In the clearing, you're surrounded by stone trolls, but you barely notice. Poor Frodo, you bet he didn't ask to do any of this, he didn't want to get involved in this.
"Look, Frodo," Sam says, sitting beside you. "It's Mister Bilbo's trolls." He touches his friend's face and cries out, "He's going cold!"
"Is he going to die?" asks Pippin, also on the verge of tears. Your heart breaks.
Aragorn turns and says, "He's passing into the Shadow World. He'll soon become a Wraith, just like them."
Frodo gasps and you scowl. "Strider!"
A Ringwraith screeches in the distance and you look around. It's too close for comfort. For a moment, Frodo's gasps match thairs.
"They're close," you say.
"Sam." Aragorn walks towards the Hobbit and touches his arm. "Do you know the Athelas plant?"
Sam nods quickly. "Aye, Kingsfoil, that's a weed."
"It may help to slow the poision." He hands him his torch and says, "Quickly. Khaya, you watch them. Be on guard."
You nod and look back down at Frodo as the two of them run into the woods to look for that plant. "Hang on, Frodo, you'll be fine, I promise."
Frodo closes his eyes, his breathing becoming slower. He's tired, you know that, but he must stay awake.
Gently, you pat at his face. "Come on, Frodo, stay awake. There."
His eyes meet yours and for a moment, you see your brother in them. They were the same color.
The minutes seem to stretch longer. Merry and Pippin sit beside you, but none of you speak. You cradle Frodo's head in your lap, trying not to worry. You all were so close, just a few more days and you would have been at Rivendell.
"Will he be okay, Khaya?" asks Pippin.
For a second, you forget that that's the name Strider gave you to hide your identity. But you nod, hastily. "Yes, he will be. We just have to wait for Strider and Sam, they'll have some medicine. Then we'll get a horse and ride him off to Rivendell."
"What about the Ringwraiths?" asks Merry in a hushed voice as if they would hear him.
You huff and scowl at the ground. "I--I don't know, Master Merry, but Strider will. He always does."
Gently placing Frodo's head on the grass, you stand. You need to move, you need to stand, you need to walk. You wonder what's taking Aragorn and Sam so long as you wander towards a towering stone giant. What did Sam say? Mister Bilbo's trolls? What did that even mean? And what is taking Aragorn so long?
You hear a twin snap in the distance and the gallop of hooves. Your heart drops to your feet and you turn faster than you ever have before, your dagger drawn.
But it is no Ringwraith. No, this is the opposite. A fair lady with dark long hair rides atop a white horse, dressed in a green cloak. She's beautiful, the most beautiful woman you've seen. And you've seen a lot. Immediately, you know she's an Elf, not just from her grace from dismounting a horse or how she seems to float through the air, but by her pointy ears.
You don't even put your knife away, just watch with an open mouth as she kneels beside Frodo and speaks in Elvish, a language so beautiful you nearly cry on the spot. Her voice is light and airy, and you're sure, if it were possible, she'd be radiating white light.
"Who is she?" asks Merry, having come to stand beside you with Pippin.
Aragorn comes from the clearing with Kingsfoil in his hands. You know her name, only by the stories Aragorn had told you.
"Frodo," the Elf says in the common tongue. Aragorn chews up the Kingsfoil in his mouth and Sam appears beside you.
"She's an Elf," he says.
"She is Arwen," you whisper, finally sheathing your dagger. What good would it have been against a Nazgul anyway?
Aragorn lifts Frodo's shirt and places the paste on Frodo's wound. He gasps and his eyes widen.
"He's not going to last," Arwen says. "We must get him to my father."
Hastily, the two of them pick Frodo up and Aragorn carries him to Arwen's horse.
"I've been looking for you for two days," Arwen says.
Merry steps forward quickly. "Where are you taking him?"
"There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know," she continues on.
Aragorn says something in Elvish, but Arwen counters back at him. They have a conversation while you and the Hobbits watch in curiosity.
"What are they saying?" Pippin asks.
You simply shrug. "I don't know."
Arwen says something that makes Aragon pause. Then, now back in the common tongue, she says, "I do not fear them."
Aragorn gently takes her hand. He says something in Elvish and she smiles before mounting her horse. Frodo moans. "Arwen. Ride hard. Don't look back."
Exchanging one last look, Arwen speaks to her horse in Elvish and they take off into the night.
Sam looks up angrily at Aragorn and shouts, "What are you doing? Those Wraiths are still out there!"
Aragorn hesitates, and for a moment, you see him regretting his choice. But you touch his arm and he looks at you.
"She'll be fine," you tell him and that seems to make him feel better.
He turns to the rest of the Hobbits and says, "Come, we must go. Rivendell is much further and we can waste no time."
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space-arsonist · 2 years
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My sister's opinion on Shadow of War characters
Eltariel. She is her favorite character, it was love at first sight. Likes her for being 1) an elf 2) a badass assassin with a difficult, unconquerable quest; she is strong and determined.
Celebrimbor. Only likes him because he is an elf and a villain.
Ratbag. She appreciates that he is loyal, cares for his olog friend and is actually clever enough to 1) never let Talion brand him 2) leave for good as soon as he witnesses Talion breaking Brûz.
Sauron. Perfectionist villain :)
Talion. The character that, at best, she's most unimpressed with; the 'manly man seeks revenge for his slaughtered family' trope doesn't appeal to her and she dislikes him for being so calloused to the suffering he inflicts upon orcs, for brainwashing and breaking them, while at the same time he can be compassionate and kind to fellow humans. She dislikes him even more 1) in his search for power, while worrying that the ring might turn him into a ringwraith, 2) because he doesn't seem to realise until it's too late that he is Celebrimbor's puppet. Calls him a hypocrite💀 However she is glad that in the end he finds peace in the afterlife.
Flint and Tinder. They are the most precious boys, absolutely loves every aspect of them and their booms. Flint's death was sad, but at least he went out with a boom; however, she says, it was better if his brother died together with him.
Akoth. Tragic backstory, cool vibes and aesthetic.
Shelob. Powerful female character with foresight. She's among her faves.
Zog. At first she wasn't so impressed with him, but changed her mind when I showed her some of his scenes. Megalomaniac villain, he's the best and makes sure everyone else knows it, but has his Moments™. He's the best bro. Made it to second place in her faves chart.
Carnan. She really likes the fact that Carnan can shapeshift. Third fave.
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dwellyr · 1 year
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Biography.
Born: ~ 3000 in the Second Age on the island in the Sea of Rhûn.
Given Name: Gweina-tûr, abandoned birth name in the Initiation and chosen to be The Dweller.
Race: appearing human. Gifted magical powers by Sauron.
Language: Rhûnic common speech, Black Speech, Orcish.
Family: mother unknown, father unknown, siblings unknown. Sworn Sisters: The Ascetic & The Nomad.
Sex: female. No information about gender identity.
Sexuality: unknown
Occupation: Mystic.
Powers/weapons: Somnomancy, Fire and Air Magic, Transformation, Spellcasting, Illusion, Telekinesis, Black Magic. Connection to the Unseen. Wielder of the Staff of Morgoth (replica).
Biography: As one of 13 girls, she was born to unmarried unnamed women on the Island in the Sea of Rhûn. As their King was a follower of Sauron, he gathered the unmarried pregnant women and imprisoned them, drowning born boys and all the mothers immediately after birth. Gweina-tûr was born under a Bad Sign, a pitch black night without stars except the “Hermit's Hat” and no moon showing in the sky, such as her Sworn Sisters, The Ascetic and The Nomad.
Trained and beaten, tortured and starved into submission, the will of the girl's was broken and at the age of 13, the remaining 7 were initiated in the Cult of Sauron, the organised religious cult of the Dark Lord with the goal to being back Morgoth from the Void, believing Sauron wanted the same.
After initiation, 4 girls, The Carrier, The Penant, The Bearer and The Indulgent, dies of high fevers, disqualifying them as true followers of the Cult. From now on, the three remaining Mystics were granted their weapons and entrance to the Unseen. The day of the Ascension of Sauron drew closer and the Prophecy would be fulfilled; a star would fall from the sky and must be brought to Rhûn, to be fully awakened and instructed in the Black Arts.
Later, she will return to Rhûn, granted even more powers by Sauron and take the crown, after the King mysteriously vanished... She will call herself Khamûl, which means Queen in Rhûnic dialect. She will be misinterpreted as a man and as King outside Rhûn, since no one else outside the borders or the closest Land of Mordor understands the dialect and The Dweller/Khamûl's androgynous appearance that is spoken about in letters that only REPEAT hearsay. She will be given a Ring of Power and turn into a Ringwraith, but not by being consumed, but by choice to hail Sauron as one of his most loyal followers, the Nazgûl.
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ao3feed-tolkien · 10 months
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For Blood, Ye Render Blood
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XzZce90
by silmarilz1701
Potential Standalone & Prequel to The Feanoriel Chronicles series
***
The line of Fëanor ended when Sauron, in his wrath, killed Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion and impaled his lifeless body on a spear to use as his battle standard in the Second Age.
Except it didn't end.
The elven loremasters and wise men of Middle Earth knew otherwise. For long years, records of the half elven descendants of Caranthir and Haleth were kept in Rivendell and Annûminas. They were an open secret, wearing the colors and symbols of Fëanor but seldom using his name to distance themselves from the bad luck of his House.
And so as the Second Age ended and the Third Age moved on, the line continued, until the last remaining twin children of the line of Fëanor, Maedeth and Rínior, find themselves in positions of power in the crumbling Numenorean kingdom of Arthedain as it fights for its life against the shadow of Angmar.
But even thousands of years after Mandos spoke the Doom of the Noldor, it still haunts the footsteps of the House of Fëanor. And with the inevitable fall of Arnor, perhaps the Doom will finally come to fulfillment:
"The Dispossessed shall they be forever."
Words: 3827, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English
Series: Part 11 of The Fëanoriel Chronicles
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: F/M
Characters: Elladan (Tolkien), Elrohir (Tolkien), Celebrían (Tolkien), Arvedui (Tolkien), Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)
Relationships: Elladan/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s)
Additional Tags: Arthedain, Fall of Arnor, Angmar, Fornost, Arnor, Nazgûl | Ringwraiths, Forbidden Love, Half-Elf, Prequel, Dúnedain - Freeform, War, Third Age Feanorians, The Silmarillion References
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XzZce90
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miloscat · 1 year
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[Review] Middle-Earth: Shadow of War (PS4)
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A worthy expansion. (Spoilers ahead!)
Having rushed through Shadow of Mordor I was expecting more of the same from its sequel, and an even deeper dive into edginess based on outside impressions. What I actually got was a much larger game with conscious steps taken to polish every corner and make this a sequel that truly surpasses its predecessor. And it paid off!
Shadow of War picks up immediately after SoM, with Talion and Celebrimbor creating a new One Ring. The intervention of Shelob—now absurdly a shapechanger with a sexy human form—throws a spanner in their plans and their accord. This new element of conflict between man and wraith makes for some interesting character dynamics which I appreciated as Talion struggles to cling to his humanity and help out Gondor while Celebrimbor becomes more stern and power-hungry (not to mention fantasy-racist). Broadly speaking there’s two phases to the game, one where Shelob is flirting with you and making you her errand boy and the other after reclaiming the ring where the objective is to capture territory and build an orc army across the diverse landscapes of Mordor including not just a lava pit but also a forested lakeshore, snowy mountain, desolate cave system, and the besieged city of Minas Ithil/Morgul. This “New Ring” seems underwhelming when all it does mechanically is unlock the brainwash power from the last game, but it ties in to the plot as well.
The events of the game are even more loony and fanfic-esque this time around (in a fun way, for the most part), with the Nazgûl playing a large role. There’s some nice stuff around the fall of Minas Ithil and the smaller stories like Carnán the Entwife/nature goddess(?) and her conflict with a Balrog, or Brûz the cheerful but treacherous Australian troll. I also liked them fleshing out individual Ringwraiths, including the East Asian ninja princesses in the DLC, although I had to raise an eyebrow at the idea that Isildur got fished out of the Anduin and converted into one semi-posthumously. This late-game reveal dovetails with the complete shark-jumping plot derailment of Talion becoming a Nazgûl himself, and Celebrimbor teaming up with the Elven assassin Eltariel and subsequently being subsumed into Sauron, the great Eye being a manifestation of their eternal spiritual conflict. Retconning major things we actually saw and learned about in LotR itself is where I drew the line, and it just wasn’t worth it for this ridiculous concept in particular. I’m not mad or anything, but when it comes to the epilogue it’s impossible to take this as seriously as it wants to be taken.
Unlike many other Tolkien-universe works, SoW has nods towards diversity… by including in the base game one (1) person of colour and three (3) women (as long as you count the one that’s also a monstrous spider). This is another step forward compared to its predecessor; however it falls into the trap of feeling the need to justify or explain their presence in the story. I can’t help but compare it to the excellent recent TV series Rings of Power, which had a much more varied cast but in such a natural way that never required remarking on. Arondir, Míriel, Sadoc, Disa, Bronwyn, etc. etc. are black or brown people who are just part of mixed cultures, while Baranor is a Haradrim who has to exposit how he came to live in the otherwise white Gondor. Númenór has female soldiers, and Nori and Galadriel are never treated differently because of their gender, where here Idril is “the only lady soldier” whose backstory must give reasons for why she is so, and whose plot involves male authority figures in her life bending over backwards to protect her. Yeah they gave the only female human character daddy issues, how original. (They also did this for the woman they fridged last game, remember.)
So anyway, I have some niggles with the story. As for the gameplay, no notes. The customisable skill tree is great with many fun new tweaks, expanded mechanics around brainwashing and beasts from the first game’s DLC are now standard (plus the addition of rideable mini-dragons!), new movement options like the double-jump and boosted climbing make getting around the larger maps (which there are now five of, plus an extra one with the DLC!) more fun, and the new loot system gave me more reason to engage with side missions and provided another satisfying way of improving and customising my character. The Nemesis system is back and more streamlined in effect, but also expanded with a lot more variation in orc appearances, the addition of troll enemies, and more distinct tribe/class affiliations and abilities. Basically they took everything that worked in the first game and made it bigger and better!
The only area I think is an actual misstep is in some of the facial modelling. The only character you can directly compare is Talion, who had a slightly stylised look in SoM. They seem to have invested in adding more detail and realism to the faces, which has unfortunately caused them to drop into the uncanny valley to greater or lesser degree, but in Talion’s case he looks much worse. At least his armour is shiny and customisable now, I guess. Small nitpick, ultimately.
As for the DLC, now there’s just two bonus orc tribes sprinkled into the main game, and two big story expansions. These are more substantial than the first game’s extra modes, each with a character that plays pretty differently. Eltariel has the new Light mechanic with all sorts of new abilities and interactions. She goes through four whole maps in her campaign, has her own skill tree, and a fun loot sidequest with optional challenges that I enjoyed ticking off. She also sidesteps the moral quandary of brainwashing orcs (they definitely have souls in this story’s metaphysical reality!) by refusing that power and instead forging real alliances with the weirdos and outcasts of Mordor’s orc/troll culture, it’s pretty cool! Baranor’s campaign is also excellent, set in a new desert map and with a form of permadeath since he doesn’t have magic resurrecting ring powers, although it only resets certain things. He plays more like the stripped-back Talion from the first game, but with his own overpowered skills largely thanks to a steampunk Númenórean device, not to mention powerful mercenaries to hire and a really fun looting system that continually stacks perks and upgrades on his gear. Actually between the grappling hook and parachute he’s a bit more like Scorpion Scorpio from off of Just Cause, and it’s awesome.
I was so surprised and pleased by how much Monolith were able to expand on what they had set up with SoM. The story is stupid at times but has a bigger scope that it also delivers on, more characters worth getting invested in, more compelling dynamics, plus similar moments of levity. The game world is bigger with more to do and more incentive to do it, with mechanics streamlined where they needed to be and expanded where there was room. And the Tolkien-universe stuff is again a fun soup of reverent lore and fascinating worldbuilding, balanced with ridiculous nonsense. I have few qualms regarding it as one of the truly great sequels to an existing work, almost to the point that I’d recommend someone just start with this one if they aren’t too invested in the story or have the completionist tendencies I do. Great stuff!
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masamune-vii · 2 years
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Interesting thing I noticed the last few days since I got back into the lord of the rings series is fans view towards Eltariel from shadow of war.
Like most hate her and I do not know why, I can only think they do cause she basically a legolas wannabe when that is clearly not the case.
Some say she should never been in the games at all and is a bitch who betrayed talion and so forth yet nobody reacted that way when Celebrimbor did.
Also nobody complained about Tauriel from the Hobbit movies, she was a one act character too yet she got lot more love.
Of course most that do not like Eltariel probably were very young and only recently got into lotr by the time shadow of mordor-war games came out or at least few years before but after lotr films were out and Hobbit films just started coming out.
But consider this, shadow of Mordor and it's sequel and DLC are basically alternate history and before events of LOTR and the Hobbit events.
So it makes sense someone like Eltariel would get involved, also she is a warrior and servant of Galadriel who essentially been fighting sauron since she got her ring.
So makes sense cause galadriel is in hiding And showing up physically would make her a target for Sauron and the Ringwraith as well as Celebrimbor.
So Eltariel was a good idea creating and implementing into middle earth lore, cause Legolas and Tauriel and Elrond cannot be the only skilled elf warriors.
Also galadriel likely formed the blades of Galadriel not cause she is greedy and a coward but cause she knew fighting sauron herself was at that time not the best idea.
So she needed a contingency plan and so her blades were formed, so just think on that.
Also we need more badass female characters in games like that, we got them in final fantasy series, devil may cry and resident evil so why not lord of the rings?
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armenelols · 3 years
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So I just wanted to talk about the first time we see Elrond in LotR, in the chapter Many Meetings (which I just reread and my mind is exploding with thoughts, thus here I am writing this). He was, of course, mentioned a few times before that, and he did make an appearance in The Hobbit, but for someone who didn't read any other Tolkien books before, this was their first impression of him. And since Elrond is my number one Tolkien character, of course I take every opportunity to ramble about him and am already worried about the length of the post I'll possibly make about him after rereading the Council of Elrond. Sue me.
To start with:
"There they hastily kindled fire; for Glorfindel knew that a flood would come down, if the Riders tried to cross, and then he would have to deal with any that were left on this side of the river."
_________________
"'Who made the flood?' asked Frodo.
'Elrond commanded it,' answered Gandalf. 'The river of this valley is under his power and it will rise in anger when he has great need to bar the Ford."
- Fellowship of the Ring, Many Meetings
I love how this chapter just straight up tells us that Elrond casually goes around causing floods every time someone unwelcome tries to get to Rivendell. What were the two sieges of Imladris like? Did Sauron try to get into the valley, only to return back on the shore completely wet and spitting water? What about Angmar's armies in the Third Age? Were they just standing near the river for 50 years because every time they tried to cross it, they would drown?
Adding to that, in The Hobbit, Gandalf, the dwarves and Bilbo had some trouble getting into the valley because they kept going in circles (despite the fact that Gandalf was in the valley many times before) - they didn't get there until after the elves from the valley lead them there. I think some illusions were keeping them out, but I am not entirely sure, I would have to reread it.
What am I trying to say? That the siege back in the Second Age was probably just Sauron and his army getting repeatedly drenched and drowned or going in circles and getting lost. Adds a whole new perspective to Sauron's drowning during the Fall of Númenor. Every time he gets involved with the sons of Eärendil or their descendants, it ends with someone drowning. No wonder he tried to get rid of them so hard.
Also, I would like to remind everyone that Gandalf fully supports Elrond's floods and makes them into horse shapes because this is Gandalf we are talking about, of course he does
But I strayed off the topic entirely so returning to Elrond in this chapter and leaving Sauron back in Mordor.
Another of the things we immediately hear about Elrond is that he healed Frodo - that he tended to him for four nights and three days, to be exact. Yeah, this mightly lord of the valley who can just casually summon floods to get rid of ringwraiths, spend several days healing Frodo. Even Gandalf wasn't sure if Frodo could be healed. He could, simply because Elrond still had hope and tried his best.
Adding to this, we are given a nice description of him and told that Arwen is his copy but female, and she is also Lúthien 2.0, making Elrond male Lúthien is appearance. It's not important when talking about Elrond's personality but I still felt the need to point out that his beauty is on the level of I-can-just-start-dancing-and-singing-and-the-creator-of-all-evil-would-be-enchanted-by-me Yeah. Go Elrond.
Returning back to his personality, I would like to talk about it a little differently this time around - and that is in comparison to Elrond in LotR movies.
Personally, I have nothing against Hugo Weaving - I like him as an actor in the little I've seen him in, and he does a good job with what he is given. However, the script straight up turns Elrond into a different person - a person without any hope, an overprotective father, constantly frowning, unhappy. That is just - not book Elrond? At all?
The first dialogue with Elrond in this book is between him and Bilbo. Bilbo without fear teases him about telling him to wake up and Elrond is smiling and laughing the entire time they talk. This is the second time we actually meet him, the first time being the feast where we are given his description, and he is smiling the entire time. This is the first time we actually hear him speak and meet him close up and he is smiling and being 100% friendly with Bilbo.
And here I am, just wondering how exactly did the scriptwriters of the movies read this and proceeded to write him as a brooding elven father with zero hope in, well, anything.
The first impression we get of Elrond in LotR is him being kind, friendly, smiling, wise, caring and powerful, and I love every second of it. All of this despite the fact of how much he had lost in his life - even in this chapter, it is said that Celebrían suffered torment in the dens of the orcs (while mentioning Elladan and Elrohir). Why am I writing all this? Partly because he deserves more love and partly because every time any book mentions him, my head is exploding with thoughts. You are welcome.
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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years
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Late in the Night | Part Three
Previous part
Prompt: There’s only one bed (Content Challenge Day 6)
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Rating: PG
Word count: 1914
Warnings: None
Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries
A/n Happy Day 6 of my content challenge! If you like my account, chances are you’ll love the accounts mentioned above! Check them out if you can :) If you want more, you can find the challenge’s masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. Okay, happy reading!
The tavern is warm and a welcome escape from the evening chill. Occupying the common room is a small, though lively, crowd, including Gimli and Boromir, who sit in plushy chairs drinking mead by the fire. The barman eyes the newcomers with a measure of surprise — it’s his second unusual guest of the night. Though the woman is predictably human, the one standing next to her is clearly an elf. The barman marvels at his luck, knowing he will be the talk of the town if he can compile some interesting stories about the elf and the dwarf he met this eve.
The barman waves at the odd couple, and they come to the counter. The three exchange pleasantries, but Legolas and Y/n are careful to be vague about their travel plans. Even though the barman seems innocently curious, one can never be too cautious. The barman inquires about their needs.
“Meals for tonight and tomorrow morning, as well as two rooms — at least one with a fireplace if you’ve got it.” Legolas reaches under his cloak and produces a velvet pouch containing the human currency he brought for the journey.
The barman grimaces. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid there is only one room left. You see, we are a small establishment, and the guests that arrived shortly before you requested separate dwellings.”
With narrowed eyes, Legolas turns to regard a very satisfied-looking human and dwarf. Gimli raises his mug, winking at his elven friend.
“Did they, now,” Legolas murmurs, beginning to guess at his friend’s plan. At his side, he hears Y/n huff in disbelief, obviously having caught on.
To his credit, the barman seems genuinely apologetic. “Yes, I-I’m afraid so, sir. If you like, there is another inn on the other side of town, I could inquire about vacancies there—”
“No, thank you.” Legolas cuts him off, trying to soften his cold tone with a smile. He can’t risk the managers talking and comparing guests before he and his companions are long gone. “We will make do.”
The barman briefly disappears to find the key, and Y/n tries to study Legolas surreptitiously. Unfortunately, he seems to have the same idea about her, and their eyes dart away immediately upon meeting, knowing they’d each been caught.
How awkward.
The barman returns, sliding a smooth silver key into Legolas’ hand, who quickly pays the man. “Would it be too much trouble to have dinner delivered to our room?” Legolas swallows. Our room.
The barman responds favorably, but there is an unmistakable note of disappointment to his tone. No doubt he was looking forward to studying probably the only elf he’s ever seen.
Y/n sneaks a look over to Gimli, who is quite enjoying his mead, and figures that he will give the barman enough entertainment to last a few years.
The pair ascends the stairs, and Y/n notices a pink twinge to Legolas’ cheeks. He stumbles over his words, something quite unusual for him. “I—uh, did not mean to presume. I apologize.”
Y/n shrugs. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s our fault for not asking to arrive first, I guess,” Y/n tries for a laugh, but it’s impossible for Legolas to not notice how she won’t meet his eyes.
He stops on the landing, looking quite pained. He hates the idea of making her uncomfortable. “I will sleep on the floor.”
Y/n takes pity on the poor elf, and puts effort into seeming relaxed. “No, really, it’s okay. It’s no different from lying near each other when we camp, right?”
It is completely different, Legolas thinks, but decides not to share that comment.
They reach the door, and both try to will their nerves away as Legolas turns the key in the lock.
“Oh.” Y/n is pleasantly surprised by the state of the room. “It’s nice.”
Legolas has to agree. The bed—the sole bed—is off the ground and boasts an actual mattress, complete with two fluffy pillows and three blankets. There’s a fireplace, a water basin, a tin tub, two exceptionally large jugs of water, and a changing screen. The presence of these amenities constitutes luxury after their time in the wilderness.
Y/n crosses the threshold first, and Legolas chides his own cowardice. The battlefield gives no fear to him, but sharing a room with the woman he…
Well.
He forces himself to enter the room.
Y/n twists the hem of her tunic in her hands, trying desperately to get through the awkwardness. “Will it bother you if I have a bath?”
Legolas practically catapults himself forward, eager to have a task to busy his mind. “Not at all. I’ll heat the water.” He grabs one of the water-filled jugs, lays it on the grate inside the fireplace, and works to start a fire.
Y/n fiddles with the changing screen, dragging it slightly to the left so it completely shields the length of the tub. Even though the fire is properly kindled, Legolas stays near it, kneeled on the ground, eyes glued to the heating water.
Y/n chances a look at him, and the sight of him brings a small smile to her lips. He’s just so sweet. And though she would never say it out loud, Y/n admits to herself that, if she had to spend the night with any of her companions, Legolas would be her first and only choice.
Y/n busies herself with spot-cleaning their extra clothes until Legolas has the water heated and pours it in the bath.
Are his cheeks red from embarrassment or the heat, she wonders.
“I-I’ll stay near the bed and-and give you your privacy,” he stutters out, looking anywhere but at her.
Definitely embarrassment. Y/n bites back a smile, grabs her washing supplies, and slips behind the changing screen.
She undresses and slides into the water, sighing contentedly at her first encounter with warm water in weeks. Knowing it won’t last long, she works quickly to scrub the dirt from her skin.
Legolas sits on the edge of the bed, trying to distract himself by cleaning their weapons. He doesn’t know whether he should try and converse with her, or ignore her completely, or if he should just run from the room and never come back?
Valar, how this is difficult!
A knock sounds on the door.
“That was fast,” Y/n muses, to which Legolas hums in agreement.
He sheds his cloak and uses it to conceal the weapons, then meets the barman at the door to collect the dinner plates.
Legolas shuts the door with his foot and turns back towards the bed.
And freezes upon realizing the issue.
Y/n is still in the bath.
Legolas exhales, looking down at the plate in his right hand, then to the changing screen, then quickly to the opposite corner of the room, a blush coming to his cheeks once again.
He closes his eyes, drawing in a breath.
You are a prince, he reminds himself. You lead council meetings, command troops, and have the respect of an entire kingdom. Pull yourself together.
Before he can give himself a chance to lose his nerve, he turns on his heel, and marches towards the changing screen.
“Delivery, My Lady.”
The teasing tone in Legolas’ voice catches Y/n off guard, and she releases a startled laugh. He can’t be serious? But she sees the tips of his boots peeking under the edge of the wooden screen, and decides to play along, trusting him to keep his gaze respectful. “You may approach, Good Sir.”
Legolas peeks around the screen, presenting Y/n her plate of food and making a show of keeping his eyes closed.
Y/n giggles, for just a moment forgetting the awkwardness and the insurmountable pressure of the fate of the world on their shoulders. “Such service! Thank you.”
Legolas bows, and returns with his own food to his spot on the bed. As they eat, they trade stories of the time before they knew each other — Y/n being careful to edit any details that would give her non-Arda origins away. When the food is gone and the bathwater runs cold, Y/n dries, dresses in fresh clothing, and folds back the changing screen.
She and Legolas stare at each other, unsure how to proceed.
“Um, is there anything you needed to do before bed?”
“No.” Legolas shakes his head. “You?”
“No.” A pause. “Well, I guess we should go to sleep, unless you wanted a bath?”
“It’s alright, I washed in the stream earlier.”
Y/n shifts on her feet. “Oh. Right. You sure you don’t want something hot?”
Legolas smiles. “Temperature doesn’t affect ellyn the way it does humans.”
Y/n laughs softly at herself, using it as an opportunity to exhale some of the nerves. “Forgot….I’ll just get the candles, then.”
Legolas stands abruptly. “Let me.” Then, his panicked look fades into a teasing smile. “Humans already have terrible eyesight in the daytime, I fear for your safety if I let you stumble around in the dark.”
“Oh, be quiet,” Y/n laughs, crawling onto the side of the bed closest to her. The mattress probably isn’t the softest in the world, but it’s much better than the freezing ground. And the pillow and blankets are a nice touch. Y/n remembers her fluffy bed back home, and finds herself snuggling deeper into the covers, trying to recreate the memory.
The room goes dark, and moments later, Y/n feels the bed dip beside her.
Legolas slides under the covers wordlessly, keeping as far to the edge as he can. His mind runs a million miles a minute, wondering if he’s making her uncomfortable, noticing how nice her hair smells, thinking how he’s going to kill Boromir and Gimli for putting them in this position, and everything in between.
On the other side of the bed, Y/n stares at the wall, unable to calm down enough to sleep. Never in her life has she been so affected by someone else’s presence. It’s just a bed for Pete’s sake, she’s shared plenty of them before!
But she can feel his warmth from across the mattress, can picture how his chest would feel under her cheek, and fights the urge to cuddle in close to him.
Oh how she is going to murder Gimli and Boromir.
Time passes, neither of them knowing how much.
But after a while, Y/n gives voice to the more anxious thoughts in her head, unable to let them go.
“Are you awake?”
Legolas’ voice is soft, barely a whisper in the late night. “Yes.”
Silence, and Legolas wonders if Y/n has fallen asleep. But a few breaths later, she speaks again, this time, with a measure of fear in her voice.
“Do you think we can do it? Destroy the Ring?”
“We will.” His voice is confident, steady, just the reassurance she needs. “No matter the cost, we will see this Evil defeated.”
Y/n sighs, closing her eyes. She gives into the exhaustion in her bones, in her mind, and sinks into dreamless sleep. Legolas follows not long after, allowing himself only the briefest of looks at his slumbering companion. He holds the image of her peaceful face in his mind as he drifts off.
And if they do find themselves cuddled up in the morning, well, no one needs to know.
A/n See you all tomorrow with part four! Likes, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. Also, let me know if you would like a tag!
Tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall @sheriffgerard @themerriweathermage @k-llama-llama
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merilles · 7 months
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dúvain, the ringwraith!
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“Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it can not change a man's nature. It happens to be the same for women as well, mother.”
Visenya Waters, the illegitimate daughter born between Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark in my LOTR/ASOIAF crossover series called Elia Martell in Rohan
Originally stillborn in the Tower of Joy about four months after Rhaegar's death due to being born with dragon-like birth defects which can show up in House Targaryen and causing the death of Lyanna by a postterm childbirth and lack of professional help during the birth, Visenya ended up getting a very different path and role when Namo, the Doomsman of the Valar, sent her and Lyanna away from his Halls to the East of Middle-Earth in living bodies that was similiar to the ones they had in Westeros
Growing up in the Temple of Shadows, where Khamûl was the lord, it was revealed with time that Visenya was blessed with magic, more precise the ability to see the past in visions, and was eventually chosen to become one of his mortal Consorts
By mostly taking after House Targaryen in appearance, she strongly resembles her grandmother Rhaella at the same age, but she also have inherited the long face of House Stark, which proves that she is the result of Rhaegar's and Lyanna's "romantized" love affair that cost the Targaryens the Iron Throne"
In personality, Visenya have a sense of morals and can be a bit of jerk towards others: For example, she loathes her origins as a bastard born between two people who both had rather selfish reasons for her birth to happen, and she thinks of her maternal uncle Eddard as desperately needing to throw away his "honor before reason"-mentality if he wants to survive in the world beyond the North, not to mention Visenya strongly thinks that he does his children a huge disfavor in sheltering them from the reality outside the safe walls of Winterfell. In contrast, she does have a soft spot for her half-siblings Rhaenys and Aegon, their mother Elia and most of the other women living at the Temple
Being aware of why she was born and finding both of them selfish and having a serious case of reality-blindness, with little care for how their actions would affect people on a wider scale aka the whole Rebellion that made Robert Baratheon the new King, Visenya does not care for the eventual fates of her parents
In a little bit of irony by how House Martell are the direct desendants of Khamûl though his oldest daughter Mara, Visenya is actually a very distant descendant of Khamûl though Rhaegar, from Myriah Martell marrying King Daeron II and making House Targaryen his descendants as well though her four sons
Currently in-story during the War of the Ring, Visenya is 13 years old and the youngest one of Khamûl's present moral Consorts, having undergone the "wedding" ritual prior to him joining the other Ringwraith to travel to the Shire in search of the One Ring and the Hobbit who wears it currently. By her magic growing stronger and sometimes being used by Khamûl for different goals outside what Sauron may desire, she is also the reason behind her female Stark cousins, Sansa and Arya, ending up in Gondor after the Ringwraiths attacking King's Landing, partly out of a desire for revenge on Eddard for him denying her existence and pretending that Lyanna's death at the Tower of Joy actually was caused by illness
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warrioreowynofrohan · 8 months
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Favourite Female Tolkien Character Poll - Round 1, Match 28
There are three polls today, all featuring women of Gondor and Arnor!
Berúthiel
A queen of Gondor remembered for her cats. From a note in Unfinished Tales:
She was the nefarious, solitary, and loveless wife of Tarannon, twelfth King of Gondor and first of the ‘ship-kings,’ who took the crown in the name of Falastur (‘Lord of the Coasts’), and was the first childless king. Berúthiel lived in the King’s House in Osgiliath, hating the sounds and smells of the sea and the house that Tarannon built below Pelargir ‘upon arches whose feet stood deep in the wide waters of Ethir Anduin’; she hated all making, all colours and elaborate adornment, wearing only black and silver and living in bare chambers, and the gardens of the house in Osgiliath were filled with tormented sculptures beneath cypresses and yews.
She had nine black cats and one white [my note: sonehow this feels like a metaphor/imagery for Sauron and the Ringwraiths], her slaves, with whom she conversed, or read their memories, setting them to discover all the dark secrets of Gondor, so that she knew those things ‘that men wish most to keep hidden’, setting the white cat to spy on the black, and tormenting them. No man in Gondor dared to touch them; all were afraid of them, and cursed when they saw them pass.
…her name was erased from the Book of the Kings…and King Tarannon had her set on a ship alone with her cats and set adrift on the sea before a north wind. The ship was last seen flying past Umbar under a sickle moon, with a cat at the masthead and another as a figure-head on the prow.
Vidumavi
She married Valacar prince of Gondor and their son was Eldacar (if you followed the Obscure Tolkien Blorbo poll tournament, you may have heard of him).
Gondor had sought good relations with the Northmen, who lived the plains surrounding the south of Greenwood the Great. King Rómendacil II of Gondor sent his son Valacar to live for a while with Vidugavia, the king or chieftain of lands east of southern Greenwood. Valacar went further than he expected in marrying Vidugavia’s daughter Vidumavi. People in Gondor did not like this, regarding the Northmen as lesser than them, and fearing that intermarriage would make their descendents shorter-lived. After Vidumavi’s death, when Eldacar became king, there was a rebellion and civil war called the Kin-strife, in which Eldacar was ultimately victorious.
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dwellordream · 3 years
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so I finished The Eye of the World, it took me about 11 days to get through it. overall I think I would rate it a 3.5/5 and I am interested in reading the sequel, though I hope the rest of the series strives to distinguish itself more from Tolkien, it’s incredibly obvious even to me, someone who’s only read LOTR once, that Jordan took major inspiration from the series for his own, and while I mostly view it as a loving homage and some early installment fumbling... 
if you are not a fan of Middle-Earth style fantasy worlds or villains like Sauron/the Dark One and straightforward enemies like trollocs/orcs/darkfriends/ringwraiths, I would not recommend the book. that said, The Eye of the World does have some original and unique worldbuilding. 
the all-female mages of the Aes Sedai are incredibly interesting and I was very disappointed when I realized we were not going to reach Tar Velon and meet the order in the first book. the matriarchal ruling line of Andor with its daughter-heirs and First Princes of the Sword is also very intriguing and I wish we spent more time with Morgase and her children, as well as her morally dubious advisor Elaida. 
Two Rivers does feel like a real village with real people and is very charmingly illustrated- Jordan obviously has a lot of fondness for the ‘smallfolk’ and his world is obviously not nearly as grim and abusive towards them as say, Westeros. while I do think the first few chapter describing Rand’s homeland dragged a bit, things did pick up once we met the rest of his friends, especially Nynaeve and Egwene, who honestly stand out as much more fully fleshed out and defined characters compared to the boys. 
it’s also very interesting how gendered everything is- villages are ruled by the all male council and the all female women’s circle, who elect respectively the Mayor, always a man, and the Wisdom (healer, meteorologist, agricultural specialist), always a woman. even the magic itself is gendered- women are drawn to air and water, men to earth and fire. so we’re left with a fantasy world that is certainly not devoid of sexism but which does allow for female leaders and rulers, if not female warriors. 
overall, while I wasn’t thrilled by the middle section of the book being essentially ‘the gang gets separated by chance and spends 20+ chapters trying to regroup’, I did love Moraine and Lan as a duo and when all the characters are together in a room, the pages really light up with their banter and bickering. there are also some truly beautiful descriptions of locations and fashion, which I was not expecting and really appreciated. I am hoping Jordan keeps with the occasional POV shift and manages to make Rand’s companions more fully realized in the next book.
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Tar-Miriel as the Witch King by cylindric
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