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#bill the pony
tsuyonpuu · 2 months
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The tiniest fellowship 🤏 Part of a Rotator-Standee i am working on 👀
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elbenherzart · 11 months
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✨   Bill The Pony ✨   Painted for Magic: The Gathering - Tales of Middle Earth AD: Colin Boyer  FINALLY! After two long years I can show Bill, the first MtG card I have ever painted.  It's special to me because of that, but also because it's related to Lotr!  Edit: Sorry, had to delete the sketches. Middle Eearth Enterprises doesn’t allow us to show any progress steps. 
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seagull-energy · 4 months
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Setting out on a very long walk...
Happy (slightly late) fellowship leaving Rivendell day!
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Please put reasons in your tags too because I wanna know why
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thethirdtreeofvalinor · 6 months
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near-dareis-mai · 1 year
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Vote for your favourite horse/horse-adjacent character from Fantasy and Science Fiction books, and yell at me in the replies/comments about your fave that i missed.
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kinsey3furry300 · 7 months
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gnomescarfcomics · 2 months
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Middle-earth shots of the week
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mtg-cards-hourly · 2 months
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Bill the Pony
Artist: Christina Kraus TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
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sauronnaise · 4 months
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Sam: Why didn't Bill the Pony sing in the choir?
Sam: He was a little horse.
Frodo:
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legitimatesatanspawn · 7 months
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The youngest and oldest members of the Fellowship:
Pippin: Youngest at 28. Unless you count Bill the Pony who can be anywhere between 4 and 25.
Gandalf: Oldest existence, unless you count physical age only. Then its a potential tie or maybe even getting beaten out by Legolas who can be anywhere between 500 and 4000.
Everyone else for the record:
Aragorn: 87
Frodo: 50
Samwise: 38.
Gimli: 139
Boromir: 40
Merry: 36
If we count Smeagol: 578
So the longest lived mortal is potentially Smeagol at 578. The youngest 100% is Bill the Pony.
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winwin17 · 5 days
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Before the Fellowship departs Rivendell, Sam is gloomily talking to Bill the Pony.
" 'Bill, my lad,' he said, 'you oughtn't to have took up with us. You could have stayed here and et the best hay till the new grass comes.' Bill swished his tail and said nothing."
😂😂
Tolkien's subtle humor tho.
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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year
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The true sequel to the apple incident.
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gandalf-the-fool · 1 month
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blankdblank · 10 months
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Stamps
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Been seeing some Boromir posts lately and oddly this ramble idea came to mind. Namely a reader/female Fellowship member who rambles in thought when the guys try to bond with her and make her feel comfortable around them on the long trek they are far from used to.
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“You know there’s a very nice compliment that is no longer relevant here,” Boromir wasn’t exactly certain how he had gotten tangled in this conversation. It had begun with a simply try to say something to the newest member of the Fellowship. A mention of his home built out of a mountain. Now here he was three hours later uncertain of how this so called conversation had unwoven itself out of this perplexing figure it seemed only Legolas could instantly warm up to their familiar style of mental train of thoughts. “You would look lovely on a postage stamp. I think there could be a great number of people we’ve encountered who would be lovely on a postage stamp. Important enough too, but no one uses them.”
“No, Miss, we do stamp our wax seals to secure our postage for delivery,” Gimli had interjected in a try to ease the stunned silent Man of Gondor out of his silence.
“Oh it’s not wax. They’re little portraits on squares glued to the corners of letters. There’s a charge for size and distance to send post and each design has a different value.”
That had eyes narrow all around the lone woman who accepted Legolas’ help to get untangled from a thorny bush their leg had tried to miss but got tangled in anyways on this brush filled stretch of wild miles before when the hills would return to test their endurance as the last stretch had. Pippen asked aloud, “Does the post man take the stamp off the letter?”
Merry nodded, “Aye, to cash in the funds for delivery, correct?”
The Hobbits seemed to be in agreement and smiled at the possible explanation that seemed logical only to have their smiles drop when the woman answered, “No. The stamps stay on the envelopes. To be honest they never really explain it outside of you need the stamps to mail the post and that the post office gets a chunk of funds when you buy a roll or sheets of stamps.”
“What utter nonsensical law to impose upon your people,” Boromir blurted out to the woman he eyed for the first time in hours after having been staring ahead for so long only alerting him to their exhausted expression from hours of travel and the pain in his neck he had been tensing in uncertainty surrounding his silence. “How can they simply just not explain the justification of the charge to your people?”
“Well, I’m certain the post office would explain to those who ask,” she said making Gimli’s brow twitch while the Hobbits had to pause a moment in their steps to not interject themselves at what havoc that avenue would take within Hobbit territories. “Just put however many stamps you are told to, unless you have forever stamps, those cover all the charges and you just need the one. Got a letter once with six stamps on it, quite an odd collection too.” She said in the fade of her voice as she tugged her ankle free of one bush only to be swatted by another bush on her other leg on the way to a free few feet between thorny traps. “But packages, now that makes sense, you pay off of weight because of how much it weighs down the vehicle carrying it, i.e expenditure of fuel and wear and tear and such with a bit of profit on top for the transport company of course.” She simply smiled wearily up at Boromir, half squinting as a layer of clouds had broken and the sun had burst out to try and blind the woman not used to long days caught in exposure of the wilds outside of carefully planned hikes. “But you would look lovely on a postage stamp.”
“No,” Boromir could only feel himself reply to the compliment, too far gone in a protective urge to keep this newest figure within his daily routines to ever be taken advantage of financially on some postage scam out of a sense of familiarity to that nonsensical place she’d been thankfully freed of. “That is no way to run a postal system. There would be outrage. The scandal!”
“Well it’s just how things are, like you and your tree emblem, or why you and Aragorn have beards and long hair but don’t grow them out.” Both of the Men had their brows tick up as to where she was going with this lane of argument. “Why, respectfully,” she said in a glance Gimli’s way, “Dwarves use axes and not more chain like weapons or massive battering rams.” Causing his lips to purse in thought of possible weapons that could be born out of that idea. “Why Elves use quivers shaped like tubes instead of giant leaves,” she looked to Legolas who nodded as she said, “Which would be very intriguing and now I really want one. Or why the Hobbits wear pants, but they only go to their shins.” Now all four of the Hobbits had looked up at her again and squinted in thought, “Just what people agreed to accept as the collective average approach to things.”
Merry said, “Come winter it does get a bit nippy.”
Pippen nodded, “When I was a Fauntling I was mad about the notion of pants like the Big Folk, but was seen right. Just not Hobbitly.”
Sam said, “Could be helpful when weeding on occasion I suppose…”
Frodo asked her, “Where you ever given your likeness on a postage stamp?”
“Oh no, I’m not nearly important enough to be on a postage stamp. I just work in a magic shop.” To that Gandalf chortled through the barrage of arguments to the contrary from every member of the Fellowship, even Bill the Pony who brayed and stomped his little hooves mid sway of his head.
A statement that would later circle around Boromir’s head while he sat on watch, silent again to the stroke of his thumb over the arrow shaped ring said then stranger had given him in return for loaning her a spare dagger he had on him for the trip on her first night on watch. Not much to offer but alongside the spare sword Gimli loaned her to train on would help to not have her feel helpless if alone. A gift he would find later on to cast every arrow fired at him to vanish and impale the one who shot it at him through the heart. A token he’d know to have been made for just him as he’d seen her carve and coat the wooden thing with resin and some wildflower petals and bits of leaves to make it more colorful.
Legolas for weeks it would seem would ponder over the use of his own gifted token of a bangle under his arm brace to not allow it harm, weaving twigs, reeds and vines to make a model cover for his quiver to see how it could be done on his sleepless nights. Same as the others in their own minor tasks picked up off inspired hobbies of what she had said to not dwell too much on the mystery of what protection their tokens gave and frighten themselves in options of possibilities their magical friend could conjure.
But she would sleep, underneath her blanket and that of whoever was on watch by usual habit for the usually shivering mess of covers between warmer bodies huddled on the dirt grounded campsite between patches of poky or damp friendly grasses that were somehow worse. Not knowing of the white tree embroidered vest lined with a bit of discovered mithril chain mail squirreled away inside of Moria the Man of Gondor would present her during their stay in Lothlorien. Unaware of the length of time granted to stay here simply off the Elven Prince’s urgency given to his father’s oldest friend the Lord of the Woodland Realm to craft a quiver she would prize.
Small trinkets. Much like thoughts on a certain ring, not the one of power Frodo bore though. One he could have crafted that screamed inside his head louder by the day inside of Rohan every time Boromir caught that blonde smirking Horse Lord attempting to pay compliment to the Lady Huntress of the five members lingering in wait here.
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