#folcwine
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Got part of my muse back for Aelf and Folcwine. When Folcwine first sees Aelf, it’s absolutely love at first sight.
He’s frightened, curious, awed. He sees this ominous red shadow in the courtyard, but as the ‘shadow’ slowly turns and removes his crimson veil, he sees his face.
He sees something worth worshipping.
The cruel light from the elf’s spell, mid cast, reflects in Folcwine’s eyes, and it’s “as if the warm, midsummer evening sky had split open and produced a being of pure, golden starlight, a single beacon in a dreamlike haze, and all the cosmos sang in harmony at his arrival.”
But how could something so perfect be capable of such evil?
The way I’m picturing it is like a scene from the LOTR films; that soft, glowy filter on Aelf’s face, this gorgeous golden light surrounding him as a product of the spell he’s casting (however horrid the spell may be)…
^^ this sort of yummy filter but warmer ^^
Also the metaphorical imagery of floating, the skies clearing, beams of sunlight breaking through clouds. And sound-wise? That one bit from Pink + White (Frank Ocean) and Our Prayer (Beach Boys), but slowed and with a sort of hazy, dreamy vibe.
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Folcwine gets fucking pin-cushioned with cupid’s arrows. His expression makes him look like his entire world has come crashing down in the best possible way. His eyes probably look like this when he sees him ngl
#my writing#Gwynvere is quaking like HIM? REALLY?#and Folcwine’s just that one audio#that’s my man. THATS MY MAN.
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Holidays 12.14
Holidays
Ako Gishi Sai (Honoring the 47 Ronin; Japan)
American Revolutionary War Day
Audubon Christmas Bird Count begins (until 1.5)
Buy A Christmas Tree Day
Chernobyl Liquidators Day (Ukraine)
Day of the Martyred Intellectuals (Bangladesh)
Deck the Halls Day
Email Tag Day
47 Ronin Remembrance Day (Sengaku-ji, Japan)
Free Shipping Day
Halcyon Days begin (7 days before & after Winter Solstice)
Hug Day (South Korea)
International Hello Day
Journée du pull de Noël (Christmas Jumper Day; Belgium, UK)
Martyred Intellectuals Day (Bangladesh)
Monkey Day
More Good Today Day
National Alabama Day
National Energy Conservation Day (India)
National Irish Sign Language Day (Ireland)
National Screwdriver Day
National Tree Planting Day (Malawi)
National WTF Happened To Surf? Day
Opposites Attract Day
Ozcanabans of Oz Convention (a.k.a. Oz Christmas)
Play An Old Song That You Didn't Like To See If You Still Don't Like It Day
Police Day (Bahrain)
Precalentines Day
Quantum Mechanics Day
Sandy Hook Remembrance Day
Sorrel Day (French Republic)
South Pole Day
U.S. Park Police Day
World Energy Conservation Day
Yoga Day
Yuletide Lad #3 arrives (Stufur or Shorty a.k.a. Pan Scraper; Iceland)
Food & Drink Celebrations
National Biscuits and Gravy Day
National Bouillabaisse Day
National Sausage Balls Day
Roast Chestnuts Day
2nd Thursday in December
Global Day of Joy [2nd Thursday]
Klopfleisnachte (Germany) [2 Thursdays before Xmas]
National Truck Driver’s Day (Netherlands) [2nd Thursday]
Independence Days
Alabama Statehood Day (#22; 1819)
Feast Days
Cat Herding Day (Pastafarian)
D'Alembert (Positivist; Saint)
Day of Iuventas and Hebe (Pagan)
Folcwin (Christian; Saint)
François-Hubert Drouais (Artology)
Hanukkah Day #7 (Judaism) [thru Dec. 15th]
John of the Cross (Christian; Saint)
John III of the Sedre (Syriac Orthodox Church)
Losoong (a.k.a. Namsoong; Sikkim, India)
Matronian (Christian; Saint)
Nani Bird (Muppetism)
Nicasius of Rheims (Christian; Saint)
Nimatullah Kassab (Maronite Church)
Pierre Puvis de Chavannes (Artology)
Spyridon (Western Church)
Venantius Fortunatus (Christian; Saint)
Whiny Victimization Co-Dependency Day (Church of the SubGenius)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Shakku (赤口 Japan) [Bad luck all day, except at noon.]
Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 57 of 60)
Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [56 of 57]
Premieres
Bee on Guard (Disney; 1951)
Berlin, by Lou Reed (Musical Play; 2006)
Bird Box (Film; 2018)
The Bridge Over the River Kwai (Film; 1957)
Broken Toys (Disney; 1935)
Childhood, by Tove Ditlevsen (Novel; 1967)
Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Film; 1977)
Crimson and Clover, by Tommy James and the Shondells (Song; 1968)
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (Film; 1988)
Dragnet (TV Series; 1951)
Dune (Film; 1984)
El Cid (Film; 1961)
The Expanse (TV Series; 2015)
A Farewell to Arms (Film; 1957)
Flowers for Madame (WB MM Cartoon; 1935)
Frankenweenie (Disney Cartoon; 1984)
Glory (film; 1989)
The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Film; 1990) [Hobbit #1]
If Beale Street Could Talk (Film; 2018)
If You Want the Rainbow (You Must Have the Rain), recorded by Fanny Brice (Song; 1928)
I’m Gonna Git You Sucka (Film; 1988)
The Jerk (Film; 1979)
King Kong (Film; 2005)
Lady, by Styx (Song; 1974)
Let’s Drink to the Ruby or Stoned Again (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S6, Ep. 328; 1964)
Little Big Man (Film; 1970)
London Calling, by The Clash (Album; 1979)
Mermaids (Film; 1990)
Miss Congeniality (Film; 2000)
1941 (Film; 1979)
Philadelphia (Film; 1993)
Rabbit Romeo (WB MM Cartoon; 1957)
The Royal Tenenbaums (Film; 2001)
Ruby Yacht, Part 1 (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S6, Ep. 327; 1964)
The Saint and the People Importers, by Fleming Lee (Novel; 1971) [Saint #44]
Saturday Night Fever (Film; 1977)
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (Animated Film; 2018)
Starman (Film; 1984)
The Strudlhof Steps, by Heimito von Doderer (Novel; 1951)
Time Out, by The Dave Brubeck Quartet (Album; 1959)
The Towering Inferno (Film; 1974)
Vanilla Sky (Film; 2001)
Wozzeck, by Alban Berg (Opera; 1925)
You Can't Take it With You, by Moss Hart (Play; 1936)
You’re Living All Over Me, by Dinosaur Jr. (Album; 1987)
Today’s Name Days
Berthold, Johannes (Austria)
Snezhala (Bulgaria)
Ivan, Venancije (Croatia)
Lýdie (Czech Republic)
Crispus (Denmark)
Eho, Hengo, Hingo (Estonia)
Jouko (Finland)
Odile (France)
Berthold, Johannes (Germany)
Arrianos, Lefki (Greece)
Szilárda (Hungary)
Valeriano, Venanzio (Italy)
Auseklis, Dailonis, Gaisma (Latvia)
Alfredas, Kintvilė, Tarvainas (Lithuania)
Stein, Steinar (Norway)
Alfred, Arseniusz, Izydor, Naum, Pompejusz, Sławobor, Spirydion (Poland)
Apolonie, Calinic, Filimon, Tirs (Romania)
Branislava, Bronislava (Slovakia)
Juan, Nicasio (Spain)
Sixten, Sten (Sweden)
Apollonia (Ukraine)
Boyd, Boyden, Byrd, Horace (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 348 of 2024; 17 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 4 of week 50 of 2023
Celtic Tree Calendar: Ruis (Elder) [Day 17 of 28]
Chinese: Month 12 (Jia-Zi), Day 2 (Bing-Wu)
Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)
Hebrew: 2 Teveth 5784
Islamic: 1 Jumada II 1445
J Cal: 18 Zima; Foursday [18 of 30]
Julian: 1 December 2023
Moon: 4%: Waxing Crescent
Positivist: 12 Bichat (13th Month) [D'Alembert]
Runic Half Month: Jara (Year) [Day 4 of 15]
Season: Autumn (Day 82 of 89)
Zodiac: Sagittarius (Day 23 of 30)
Calendar Changes
December (Julian Calendar) [Month 12 of 12]
Jumādā ath-Thāniyah (a.k.a. Jumādā al-ʾĀkhirah or Jumada II) [جُمَادَىٰ ٱلثَّانِيَة or جُمَادَىٰ ٱلْآخِرَة] (Islamic Calendar) [Month 6 of 12] (Second of the Parched Land; the Last of Parched Land)
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Holidays 12.14
Holidays
Ako Gishi Sai (Honoring the 47 Ronin; Japan)
American Revolutionary War Day
Audubon Christmas Bird Count begins (until 1.5)
Buy A Christmas Tree Day
Chernobyl Liquidators Day (Ukraine)
Day of the Martyred Intellectuals (Bangladesh)
Deck the Halls Day
Email Tag Day
47 Ronin Remembrance Day (Sengaku-ji, Japan)
Free Shipping Day
Halcyon Days begin (7 days before & after Winter Solstice)
Hug Day (South Korea)
International Hello Day
Journée du pull de Noël (Christmas Jumper Day; Belgium, UK)
Martyred Intellectuals Day (Bangladesh)
Monkey Day
More Good Today Day
National Alabama Day
National Energy Conservation Day (India)
National Irish Sign Language Day (Ireland)
National Screwdriver Day
National Tree Planting Day (Malawi)
National WTF Happened To Surf? Day
Opposites Attract Day
Ozcanabans of Oz Convention (a.k.a. Oz Christmas)
Play An Old Song That You Didn't Like To See If You Still Don't Like It Day
Police Day (Bahrain)
Precalentines Day
Quantum Mechanics Day
Sandy Hook Remembrance Day
Sorrel Day (French Republic)
South Pole Day
U.S. Park Police Day
World Energy Conservation Day
Yoga Day
Yuletide Lad #3 arrives (Stufur or Shorty a.k.a. Pan Scraper; Iceland)
Food & Drink Celebrations
National Biscuits and Gravy Day
National Bouillabaisse Day
National Sausage Balls Day
Roast Chestnuts Day
2nd Thursday in December
Global Day of Joy [2nd Thursday]
Klopfleisnachte (Germany) [2 Thursdays before Xmas]
National Truck Driver’s Day (Netherlands) [2nd Thursday]
Independence Days
Alabama Statehood Day (#22; 1819)
Feast Days
Cat Herding Day (Pastafarian)
D'Alembert (Positivist; Saint)
Day of Iuventas and Hebe (Pagan)
Folcwin (Christian; Saint)
François-Hubert Drouais (Artology)
Hanukkah Day #7 (Judaism) [thru Dec. 15th]
John of the Cross (Christian; Saint)
John III of the Sedre (Syriac Orthodox Church)
Losoong (a.k.a. Namsoong; Sikkim, India)
Matronian (Christian; Saint)
Nani Bird (Muppetism)
Nicasius of Rheims (Christian; Saint)
Nimatullah Kassab (Maronite Church)
Pierre Puvis de Chavannes (Artology)
Spyridon (Western Church)
Venantius Fortunatus (Christian; Saint)
Whiny Victimization Co-Dependency Day (Church of the SubGenius)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Shakku (赤口 Japan) [Bad luck all day, except at noon.]
Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 57 of 60)
Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [56 of 57]
Premieres
Bee on Guard (Disney; 1951)
Berlin, by Lou Reed (Musical Play; 2006)
Bird Box (Film; 2018)
The Bridge Over the River Kwai (Film; 1957)
Broken Toys (Disney; 1935)
Childhood, by Tove Ditlevsen (Novel; 1967)
Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Film; 1977)
Crimson and Clover, by Tommy James and the Shondells (Song; 1968)
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (Film; 1988)
Dragnet (TV Series; 1951)
Dune (Film; 1984)
El Cid (Film; 1961)
The Expanse (TV Series; 2015)
A Farewell to Arms (Film; 1957)
Flowers for Madame (WB MM Cartoon; 1935)
Frankenweenie (Disney Cartoon; 1984)
Glory (film; 1989)
The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Film; 1990) [Hobbit #1]
If Beale Street Could Talk (Film; 2018)
If You Want the Rainbow (You Must Have the Rain), recorded by Fanny Brice (Song; 1928)
I’m Gonna Git You Sucka (Film; 1988)
The Jerk (Film; 1979)
King Kong (Film; 2005)
Lady, by Styx (Song; 1974)
Let’s Drink to the Ruby or Stoned Again (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S6, Ep. 328; 1964)
Little Big Man (Film; 1970)
London Calling, by The Clash (Album; 1979)
Mermaids (Film; 1990)
Miss Congeniality (Film; 2000)
1941 (Film; 1979)
Philadelphia (Film; 1993)
Rabbit Romeo (WB MM Cartoon; 1957)
The Royal Tenenbaums (Film; 2001)
Ruby Yacht, Part 1 (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S6, Ep. 327; 1964)
The Saint and the People Importers, by Fleming Lee (Novel; 1971) [Saint #44]
Saturday Night Fever (Film; 1977)
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (Animated Film; 2018)
Starman (Film; 1984)
The Strudlhof Steps, by Heimito von Doderer (Novel; 1951)
Time Out, by The Dave Brubeck Quartet (Album; 1959)
The Towering Inferno (Film; 1974)
Vanilla Sky (Film; 2001)
Wozzeck, by Alban Berg (Opera; 1925)
You Can't Take it With You, by Moss Hart (Play; 1936)
You’re Living All Over Me, by Dinosaur Jr. (Album; 1987)
Today’s Name Days
Berthold, Johannes (Austria)
Snezhala (Bulgaria)
Ivan, Venancije (Croatia)
Lýdie (Czech Republic)
Crispus (Denmark)
Eho, Hengo, Hingo (Estonia)
Jouko (Finland)
Odile (France)
Berthold, Johannes (Germany)
Arrianos, Lefki (Greece)
Szilárda (Hungary)
Valeriano, Venanzio (Italy)
Auseklis, Dailonis, Gaisma (Latvia)
Alfredas, Kintvilė, Tarvainas (Lithuania)
Stein, Steinar (Norway)
Alfred, Arseniusz, Izydor, Naum, Pompejusz, Sławobor, Spirydion (Poland)
Apolonie, Calinic, Filimon, Tirs (Romania)
Branislava, Bronislava (Slovakia)
Juan, Nicasio (Spain)
Sixten, Sten (Sweden)
Apollonia (Ukraine)
Boyd, Boyden, Byrd, Horace (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 348 of 2024; 17 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 4 of week 50 of 2023
Celtic Tree Calendar: Ruis (Elder) [Day 17 of 28]
Chinese: Month 12 (Jia-Zi), Day 2 (Bing-Wu)
Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)
Hebrew: 2 Teveth 5784
Islamic: 1 Jumada II 1445
J Cal: 18 Zima; Foursday [18 of 30]
Julian: 1 December 2023
Moon: 4%: Waxing Crescent
Positivist: 12 Bichat (13th Month) [D'Alembert]
Runic Half Month: Jara (Year) [Day 4 of 15]
Season: Autumn (Day 82 of 89)
Zodiac: Sagittarius (Day 23 of 30)
Calendar Changes
December (Julian Calendar) [Month 12 of 12]
Jumādā ath-Thāniyah (a.k.a. Jumādā al-ʾĀkhirah or Jumada II) [جُمَادَىٰ ٱلثَّانِيَة or جُمَادَىٰ ٱلْآخِرَة] (Islamic Calendar) [Month 6 of 12] (Second of the Parched Land; the Last of Parched Land)
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for lady éowyn of the rohirrim. @dernhelmalso
[set after the ambush of the rohirrim] the very air of fanghorn forest had changed, a ripple of anger carried through and set her hair to stand upon end. from her place upon a high branch her elven eyes fixed upon carnage between men and orc, the trees of fanghorn swayed and groaned in anger as the fetid & foul presence of orc and uruk filth intruded upon them. motionless she fixed her eyes upon the battle, a stern face giving the barest glimmer of emotion as she saw the men triumph over saruman's beasts; abominations. she'd spied what appeared to be little folk amongst the fray but lost sight of them and disappeared back into the forest, her ears picking up the sound of treebeard (she still referred to him as fanghorn) making his presence known. the ancient magic of the trees would be more than a match for whatever foulness grew bold enough to intrude upon his realm.
and tindómiel kelerel's feet swiftly carried her away. she wasn't needed in fanghorn anymore; she had beheld (with great happiness and joy) that gandalf had been returned to middle earth, radiant in his white form and treebeard would seek the maia out himself ... nonetheless the war against sauron was stealing the very life from all of ennorath, it felt somehow more suffocating and corrupt than the war of the alliance. the power of the elves was diminishing, even she could feel it ... faith in men was their best, and only hope; despite what she knew her uncle lord elrond believed. she knew the white horse upon the fields of green; the sigil of calenardhon; rohan — she mounted her steed and turned her sights to the city of edoras.
... ... ...
it had been almost two centuries since she had seen the meduseld, which was now ruled by the descendent of the last kings she had met... king folca and his then-son and heir folcwine. the man was king theóden, gandalf greyhame spoke of him in good favour — but it seemed wrong; a smear of darkness tarnished the golden hall. something rank and evil had slithered here, and it was for that reason that she paused in her approach. waiting, watching, she saw the men of the mark return ... the golden-haired commander from the edges of fanghorn leading them; she could smell the scent of rotted death on them - evidence of the battle. the half-elf had hoped that the presence of the white-hand marked uruk-hai would muster the horse-lords towards the goal of the destruction of the dark lord — and yet she saw a banishment. it was all wrong. king folca had destroyed the last orc-hold that lay within the realm of the rohirrim, and now the creatures laid waste to calenardhon. angrily she though to herself; what use could the kingdoms of men be if they tore themselves asunder from within?
she had been wandering ennorath, obscuring her elfen ears and adopting the alias of kelerel (when a name was required), for many centuries. she entered edoras with her horse's reigns in her hand, she stepped carefully and with her head tilted somewhat downwards as she made her way towards a small cluster of rohirrim whom she overheard speaking about what had just occurred — she interjected, curiously and evenly, "for what reason was the marshall of the mark cast from edoras?"
#v. tolkien ... tindómiel of ennorath ; int. éowyn of the rohirrim#dernhelmalso#( did i proofread?? no. am i overflowing with tolkien love? yes. )#( do you have to match length?? ABSOLUTELY NOT i just like to set a scene and POV )
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the entire rohirric dictionary + rohirric names
Aldord Arhaine Baline Bansba Battla Braden Brafulfhe Braldor Brangelmyn Bredusen Brytland Burts Bémarg Bémaron Caverl Cavidend Coathel Coatta Coattain Coattla Counterlar Couth Couthale Couthel Dakark Dakart Darts Dengalley Dered Derkeng Dermine Diancloc Diselfhel Disend Dusen Dusterl Dwell Dwelm Dwesouth Dwifire Dwift Dwimberë Dwimbolt Dwimme Dwindburt Dwine Dwinether Dwingelm Dwini Dwynë Déodwine Déoher Déome Déorber Déorts Déoth Déowyn Dúnhar Dúnharam Dúnharhas Dúnhe Dúnhel Dúnhelm Dúnhelmód Dúnhen Ealini Earafu Earafull Eardia Earharhark Earthwine Eastybba Edunton Elain Eldor Elfhe Elfhill Elfwin Eller Elmin Elmind Elmód Emnethand Engle Eofas Eofolda Eofordena Eofordeng Eoforses Eoforts Eorbel Eored Eorefart Eorken Everg Everë Farafull Fenclowel Fenet Fensba Firrimourg Floselmynë Flowes Flowess Folbytle Folcrood Folcwift Folcwin Folcwinet Folda Foldburg Folderë Foralley Fordency Fords Fored Forlaidda Forlan Forlin Fornd Fornhalda Forth Fradimbold Fradise Franclose Fridundfas Frihy Frimbelmin Frimholde Frimourg Frubramer Frubred Fruga Frugri Frumavider Fréall Fréawimme Fréawin Fréawind Fréawing Fréawingas Fulfhirric Galdorbell Gamlifirri Gards Garken Garkend Gaster Gastre Gléod Gléorse Gléow Gléowerk Golcwim Gramess Grand Gransagell Gredumar Grensagavi Grensagess Gridder Grideruga Gridunted Grien Grienburg Griengelm Grihyrnd Grimboly Grimhome Grimornd Grimouth Grímain Guagald Guagalde Guaralde Guarg Guthéor Gálmynë Gúthas Gúthbuild Gúthéother Haidisen Haine Hairim Haldburg Halinet Halini Haláth Haras Harhartred Harth Harthwin Haryttla Hastom Haund Haundfords Haunher Heldorc Helfher Hendfold Herlini Hernd Herndfa Herumga Hilder Hirrome Holardim Holcald Holcaverk Holda Holden Holderne Holdored Holdorsen Holer Homarride Homearaláf Homed Homer Homundfold Homunn Horbel Horder Hored Horlin Hornbry Hornecre Horsesounn Horts Hámarimmed Hámarowine Idden Iddermine Idunterk Ilderl Ildored Irimourt Irrien Irrim Irrod Isene Isenga Isengalda Isenmor Isensba Laine Landfards Lifired Lithburg Lithy Loses Lowestome Lowin Láthy Léodess Léodred Léofolde Léohill Léoreyling Léortres Lóriduse Lóriengell Lórim Lórimmeas Lórimor Manceores Mancy Mandburg Manton Marastre Marhwin Marrow Maryttle Maróf Maver Maviden Merefas Mermine Mesterë Mestybba Morken Morth Morwine Moundburth Mourg Mouthburt Mouthy Mundbure Muntonet Mustermin Nethwin Newaik Ofard Ofarg Oforl Oforlini Olcrohild Olcwimhole Oldwelde Oramline Orbelle Orbere Orlan Orline Orwim Orwine Pecavine Peldered Pellet Phalle Phand Phansanta Pharóf Phath Phaunn Púken Púkengary Púkenmor Ridianet Ridingléod Ridis Ridunta Rienbra Riend Rieng Rienmourg Rimmer Rimourg Rimsla Rohirrihy Romes Rooder Rowyn Simmer Soured Souther Southwift Specrow Spelmód Speof Speoras Speort Stemne Sterl Sterugrien Stoma Stomund Strohild Swaider Swain Swaine Swaldor Swifirood Swimme Swine Swinet Swing Súthwini Thbuill Thela Thelfhelm Thell Thelm Thermingel Thláthspel Thridian Thrim Thwim Thwin Thyrnbress Thyrnhel Théom Théor Théoth Théow Trowyn Valdbured Valdermark Valdorla Valdorne Valeyline Valleyline Valvards Valáf Varde Viancy Viantemne Viddered Viden Videna Vidugarya Vinet Vingas Waini Waires Warastybba Welmyn Werubram Wesounta Wifirowyn Wimore Wolcrey Woodester Worand Worsenet Worts Wosell Wosen Wosena Wosenbra Wosence Wosene Wosufena Wulfhirrod Wulfwini Wásagam Wásagelm Wídfa Wídfaróf Wídfas Wídfolcram Wídfolcred Wídfold Wídfolt Éodenmouth Éoder Éodregold Éodwynë Éofolcall Éofor Éoher Éohildorl Éohildorla Éohiron Éomealle Éomerë Éoran Éortres Éothwine Éoweld Éower Éowermine Éowynë Íredorafu
#name stash#444names#444 names#dnd names#character names#random character names#markov namegen#markov name generation#markov#markov gen
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men of middle-earth ♞ house of éorl ♞ headcanon disclaimer
Folcwine was the son of Folca the Hunter, and the fourteenth King of Rohan. In his time, the Dunlendings once more overtook the lands between the rivers Adorn and Isen, but with the aid of Steward Túrin of Gondor he was able to drive them out and reclaim the area.
The wife of Folcwine was Cynefled, a gentle woman who bore him four children. The eldest of these were the twins Folcred and Fastred, followed by a daughter, Layrun, and another son, Fengel. Folcred and Fastred were mighty princes who planned to rule jointly as brothers when Folcwine died; they were supported in their vision by their sister Layrun, a sage and wise-woman who commanded much respect among their people. Fengel, the youngest, was more of an afterthought in his childhood, doted upon by his mother but never truly acknowledged by his elder siblings or his father.
When Steward Túrin called upon the Oath of Círion and Éorl, requesting the aid of Rohan to defeat the Haradrim armies invading Gondor, Folcinwe sent many riders to his aid in memory of the support Túrin had given to him against the Dunlendings. This force was led by Folcred and Fastred his heirs, who were tragically both slain in battle. They were laid to rest where they fell, at the Crossings of Poros, and their burial mound became known as the Haudh-in-Gwanûr, the Mound of the Twins.
Upon this tragedy, Folcwine grew and weary, neglecting to properly train his remaining son in the ways of kingship. Layrun, devastated by the loss of her brothers, retreated with a small group of followers into Fangorn Forest, where they became known as wood-witches, feared and respected by those who believed in their powers. Meanwhile, Fengel was raised solely by his mother Cynefled, who spoiled him irreparably.
#tolkienedit#oneringnet#lotredit#lotr#lord of the rings#rohan#rohirrim#folcwine#oc cynefled#folcred#fastred#oc layrun#fengel#my edit#my writing#edit writing#headcanons#tefain nin#men of middle earth#house of eorl
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@tinacharles replied to your post:
where would the kings of rohan essentially having to hold together the east and west fold fit in do you think? makes it seem even more precarious than gondor which despite the provinces etc feels a bit more centralized?
Yes!!!! I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately (and holy shit I am NOT a military historian so please forgive however many inaccuracies I'm about to include here, BUT…), and one of the things I’ve been wondering about is if this popular vision of Gondor as structured as a Western European feudal state is a little misleading. Insofar as I can see it now, the fanon take on Gondor’s governance is a little bit like England post-Magna Carta, which is to say it looks like this:
You have a King/Steward at the top, who is imbued with some element of divine justification for his rule. The land of the kingdom is his (in essence--and I mean that definitionally, the essence of the land is his), and is rented out to various other actors, namely...
The aristocracy beneath him. Though the land is technically the king’s and leased to them, in practicality the land (and the peasants attached to it!) is theirs, and because of that, they have an immense amount of power. The bigger and the more resource-rich the land, the more important and wealthier the lord who maintains it. The landed aristocrats (because it is possible to have non-landed aristocrats!) have enough power to effectively “check” the King—and a big part of that power comes from their ability to raise armies. As far as raising armies are concerned, they are led by the aristocrats who raise them, and those aristocrats are in turn loyal to the King (but can just as easily not be, hence the somewhat weakened power of the central authority).
Then you have the non-landed aristocrats, so these are mostly perfunctory titles given to make people feel good.
And lastly the soldiers, the peasantry, the urban poor, etc.
I think that that take is wrong for Gondor—if it’s not technically canonically wrong, then it’s certainly less interesting—but right for Rohan. Importantly, that level of inequity engendered between the power of the aristos and the power of the King would explain, for example, why Éomer (as heir to the Lordship of Aldburg, according to the UT) could be leveraged so effectively by Gríma as a threat to Théoden and Théodred’s power, and it would explain why (at least in part) all of Théoden’s family were so hesitant to do anything public with getting Gríma the fuck out: admitting the King had shown any weakness at all could be seriously risky business. Plus, as you point out, it fits in nicely with the Eastfold and Westfold pulling away from one another—different areas, different interests, and less overall allegiance to a central authority (and a weakened “national” narrative to boot) meaning the King himself really needs to have a vise grip on the regions to keep it all together.
The one place where this falls down somewhat is the decentrality of the army (sorry I'm just making up words every five seconds here lol)—we know Rohan’s army is at least somewhat centralised based on, well, every description of it that we get. We can account for it in this model by saying that while the army is centralised, the economics (grain production, taxation, etc.) are not, so the Kings are still fairly beholden to their vassal lords, AND, we can point to Folcwine having substantially reorganised the Éoherë and say that while he split it into roughly three-ish columns of riders, all he actually did was shift around the numbers for the regional lords to muster and institute an unlanded title (the Marshals of the Mark) to take up the task of administering the army, without substantially rebalancing power within the kingdom. So the bulk of the power to raise the Éoreds still rests with the regional lords, meaning keeping them happy and in line is a major part of the work of the king.
So that set-up works for Rohan, but not for Gondor. Gondor, I think, is probably best organised around [byzantine gondor klaxon] the Eastern Roman themata system. After the 600s-ish, the Byzantine Empire began to make more extensive use of a system put in place by Diocletian that is, as far as I can tell, basically a variation on the US Homestead Acts with a military component. It goes something like this:
Land is granted to soldiers (and it’s important here to note that they start as soldiers first, not farmers), to farm. The soldiers’ pay was docked for having the land, but the farming land was typically more valuable anyway, so it was a good deal. As long as the soldiers agreed that their descendants would continue to farm the land AND serve in the military, all was good. And this descendant stuff is important because it means even the people on the lowest rung of the power structure have some sort of emotional tie to the state—they grow up expecting to be part of it in some small way, and so generally feel a greater sense of allegiance to Gondor™ than, for example, in Rohan where they’re tied to the land that’s owned by, say, Lord Erkenbrand of the Deeping Coomb, who is broadly loyal to the Kings but could at any moment flip, leaving the peasantry functionally disconnected from the King and the Riddermark generally.
The theme system is also important because it means you don’t need to do conscription (which is kinda sucky and unpopular) and you have guarantees on both farmers and soldiers, which is an excellent way to occupy your able-bodied population pretty much round the clock, reducing both the likelihood of rebellions and maximising your population’s general efficiency—sounds to me sort of like what Faramir’s on about in Window on the West! It’s also great because it means you can settle conquered lands quickly and easily.
Above these farmer-soldiers in the power schema was something like a regional governor, who was in charge both civilly and militarily. This looks a lot like your classical Western European feudal lord, and is functionally pretty similar, except in that they don’t own ALL of the lands the peasants work, most of that actually belongs to the central authority and is leased directly to the peasantry. This sort of explains how Faramir can credit the expansion/maintenance of Gondor explicitly to the Stewards (“but the Stewards were wiser…” in TTT) instead of having to acknowledge the underling lords—and assuming he’s not just being a blowhard about it—because that leasing of the land would actually be the prerogative of the Steward (in the name of the King) and not the Lords of the Pinnath Gelin or the Prince of Dol Amroth or whoever.
Then there’s an ENORMOUS bureaucracy and administrative wing to the central state. Genuinely enormous, filled with lots of vanity titles (Warden of the Keys, anyone?) and basically helps to keep the administrative state running, reducing the amount of actual clerical work both the central authority and the outlying lords/governors have to do. This makes the bureaucracy quite powerful, but makes the central authority (King/Steward/whoever) even more powerful because he leads it.
Then there’s the interesting pseudo-democratic element inherited from the Roman Empire, which actually goes some of the way to explaining some of the subtext to my initial question about Faramir’s behaviour at the coronation; there's the remnants of the Senate, which technically elected the emperors of the Byzantine Empire (though had waning influence as the centuries wore on). A senate, obviously, is quite different to whatever the fuck it is that Faramir does, but that sort of popular approval for the king is nonetheless interesting and notable, and we can probably assume Tolks knew something of it when he was writing.
Sorry I wrote... way too much here, I am procrastinating v hard from work lol. Anyways yeah I think this is basically where I'm at vis a vis their relative governmental structures. I'm having a bit of a moment as well because Dante Alighieri has this whole take on the Empire and Catholicism, and I think that's actually probably influencing Tolkien somewhere along the line (and is definitely relevant, if nothing else, for how I think about the governments in LOTR), but I haven't had the brain energy to try to incorporate that yet lol
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Family tree of all Boromir’s large extended family including names for unnamed woman and filler characters that I just made up for flavour.
This has a little extra than the timeline like the Steward’s connection to Pinnath Gelin and some more of Rohan’s royal line.
Timeline pertaining to Boromir and his extended family and Gondor and Rohan as a whole below the cut.
Begins with Turin II becoming the ruling Steward of Gondor. If you see inaccuracies then please give me a bell.
2882 Death of Thorondir, Turin II becomes ruling Steward of Gondor.
2883 Birth of Lord Faelon the Fisher, Lord of Pelargir.
2886 Birth of Ecthelion II, son of Steward Turgon.
2899 Death of the unnamed eighteenth Prince of Dol Amroth. The eighteenth Prince's son, Aglahad, becomes the nineteenth Prince of Dol Amroth.
2901 Most of the remaining inhabitants of Ithilien desert it, owing to the attacks of Uruks of the Morgul Vale. The secret refuge of Henneth Annûn is built.
2903 Birth of Mesgiel of Pelargir, Wife of Ecthelion II, sister to Faelon. Death of Folcwine, Fengel takes the sceptre of Rohan.
2905 Birth of Thengel, son of King Fengel of Rohan.
2907 Birth of Gilraen, mother of Aragorn.
2911 The Fell Winter, Wolves invade Eriador.
2912 Devastating floods in Minhiriath and Enedwaith, death of Argonui, Arador becomes Chieftain of the Dúnedain, Tharbad deserted. Saruman discovers Sauron is searching the Gladden Fields.
2914 Death of Túrin II, Turgon becomes Ruling Steward of Gondor.
2917 Birth of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. Birth of Cardir, Seneschal of Tumladen.
2920 Prince Thengel leaves Rohan’s court due to a break with his father and is welcomed in Gondor.
2921 Lord Faelon the Fisher weds Tinnoril of Pelargir. Birth of Sirgon, son of Faelon.
2922 Birth of Morwen Steelsheen.
2924 Birth of Lady Arasser of Lamedon. Mesgiel of Pelargir weds Steward Ecthelion II.
2925 Birth of Lady Terenis, eldest daughter of Steward Ecthelion. Birth of Laegeth of Cair Andros.
2927 Birth of Lady Vanyalos, youngest daughter of Steward Ecthelion.
2929 Arathorn II weds Gilraen.
2930 Death of Arador, Arathorn II becomes Chieftain of the Dúnedain. Birth of Denethor II
2931 Birth of Aragorn.
2932 Death of Prince Aglahad, Angelimir becomes Prince of Dol Amroth.
2933 Death of Arathorn II, Aragorn becomes Chieftain of the Dúnedain.
2935 Birth of Forlong, Lord of Lossenarch.
2939 Saruman discovers that Sauron's servants are searching the Anduin near Gladden Fields, and that Sauron therefore has learned of Isildur's end. He is alarmed, but says nothing to the White Council.
2941 Sauron driven from Dol Guldur, Battle of Five Armies. Dáin II becomes King of Erebor.
2942 Sauron returns in secret to Mordor.
2943 Prince Thengel of Rohan weds Morwen Steelsheen.
2944 Birth of Princess Eadoina, eldest daughter of Prince Thengel.
2945 Birth of Princess Éadwara, second eldest daughter of Prince Thengel. Prince Adrahil weds Lady Arasser of Lamedon.
2946 Birth of Princess Aldwyn, third eldest daughter of Prince Thengel.
2947 Death of Faeron, Sirgon becomes Lord of Lebennin. Birth of Ivriniel, first daughter of Prince Adrahil.
2948 Birth of Théoden, Son of Thengel.
2950 Birth of Finduilas, second daughter of Prince Adrahil.
2951 Sauron declares himself openly and gathers power in Mordor. He begins the rebuilding of Barad-dûr and sends three Nazgûl to reoccupy Dol Guldur. Gondor.
2952 Aragorn discovers his true name from Elrond and goes into the Wild.
2953 The Dark Tower rises again. Last meeting of the White Council. They debate the Rings of Power. Saruman feigns that he has discovered that the One Ring has passed down Anduin to the Sea. Saruman withdraws to Isengard, which he takes as his own, and fortifies it. Being jealous and afraid of Gandalf he sets spies to watch all his movements; and notes his interest in the Shire. He soon begins to keep agents in Bree and the Southfarthing.. Death of Steward Turgon, Ecthelion II becomes Ruling Steward of Gondor, Saruman begins to fortify Isengard, death of King Fengel, Thengel returns from Gondor to take the throne of Rohan, Theoden accompanies him.
2954 Mount Doom bursts into flame again. The last inhabitants of Ithilien flee over Anduin.
2955 Birth of Imrahil, son of Prince Adrahil.
2957 Sirgon weds Laegeth of Cair Andros Aragorn begins his great journeys as Thorongil.
2960 Birth of Siriel, daughter of Lord Sirgon.
2961 Birth of Lorvegil, eldest son of Lord Sirgon.
2963 Birth of Théodwyn, youngest daughter of Thengel.
2964 Birth of Falathran, youngest son of Sirgon. Lady Vanyalos weds Lord Forlong of Lossenarch.
2967 Birth of Tathrenes, eldest daughter of Lord Forlong.
2969 Birth of Lothuial, second eldest daughter of Lord Forlong.
2970 Lady Terenis weds Cardir of Tumladen.
2973 Prince Theoden weds Elfhild of Rohan.
2974 Birth of Collas, youngest daughter of Lord Forlong. Birth of Eradan II, eldest son of Lady Terenis and Cardir of Tumladen.
2976 Denethor II weds Finduilas
2977 Birth of Halas II, youngest son of Lady Terenis and Cardir of Tumladen. Death of Angelimir, Adrahil II becomes Prince of Dol Amroth.
2978 Births of Boromir and Théodred. Death of Elfhild in childbirth.
2979 Death of Falathran in the sudden increase in Corsair hostilities.
2980 Attack on Umbar. Death of Thengel, Theoden takes the Throne of Rohan. Adventures of Thorongil end and Aragorn and Arwen are betrothed. About this time Gollum reaches the confines of Mordor and becomes acquainted with Shelob.
2983 Siriel weds Beinor of Minas Tirith. Birth of Faramir.
2984 Deaths of Ecthelion II, Denethor becomes Ruling Steward of Gondor. Denethor II begins to use the Anor-stone.
2985 Birth of Hirgon, son of Siriel.
2988 Death of Finduilas after a period of illness.
2989 Éomund weds Théodwyn.
2990 Saruman begins breeding Orcs. Birth of Erchirion son of Prince Imrahil. Birth of Belegorn, son of Tathrenes out of wedlock.
2991 Birth of Éomer, son of Eomund. Lady Tathrenes weds a Knight Barahon of Imloth Melui.
2992 Death of Cardir, Seneschal of Tumladen, killed defending the fords of the river Sirith. Eradan II becomes lord of Tumladen.
2993 Birth of Cúlalf, second son of Lady Tathrenes.
2994 Destruction of Balin's colony, birth of Amrothos, son of Prince Imrahil.
2995 Births of Falasser, son of Lorvegil. Birth of Eowyn, daughter of Eomund. Birth of Cordover, third son of Tathrenes. Lothuial weds Lord Rondil of Arnach.
2998 Siriel killed whilst helping evacuate the city, Beinor leaves Pelargir and raises Hirgon in Minas Tirith.
2999 Birth of Lothíriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil. Birth of Cúdulus, youngest son of Lady Tathrenes.
3000 The shadow of Mordor lengthens. Saruman dares to use the palantír of Orthanc, but becomes ensnared by Sauron, who has the Ithil-stone. He becomes a traitor to the White Council. His spies report that the Shire is being closely guarded by the Rangers. Birth of Celebros, daughter of Lorvegil. (79) Birth of Rhossolas, daughter of Lady Lothuial.
3001 Bilbo's birthday feast.
3002 Easterlings attack the Eastemnet of Rohan aided by the orcs of the White mountains. Death of Éomund battling Orcs at Emyn Muil. Death of Théodwyn, Eomer and Eowyn are adopted into King Theoden’s house. Bilbo comes to Imladris.
3006 Birth of Pelilas, youngest daughter of Lady Lothuial. Death of Rondil of Arnach during a corsair siege. Death of Collas, daughter of Vanyalos, killed in an ambush whilst tending to the wounded refugees.
3007 Death of Lorvegil in ship combat, Sirgon takes in Celebros and Falasser.
3009 Gandalf and Aragorn renew their hunt for Gollum at intervals during the next eight years, searching in the vales of Anduin, Mirkwood, and Rhovanion to the confines of Mordor. At some time during these years Gollum himself ventured into Mordor, and was captured by Sauron.
3010 Death of Adrahil II, Imrahil becomes Prince of Dol Amroth.
3012 Eradan II weds Gladhriel of Lamedon. Death of Arasser, mother of Prince Imrahil, at the age of 88.
3014 Théoden begins to fall ill after a wound and his counselor, Gríma Wormtongue, begins to gain power over the King. Birth of Faeleth, daughter of Eradan II. Death of Mesgiel, mother of Denethor II, at the age of 111.
3015 Prince Elphir weds Síloril of Dol Amroth. Death of Morwen Steelsheen at the age of 93.
3017 Birth of Lenneth, Falasser’s daughter out of wedlock. Her father claims her. Birth of Thorondir II, son of Eradan II. Birth of Alphros son of Prince Elphir. Gollum is released from Mordor. Aragorn captures Gollum in the Dead Marshes. On his way to Mirkwood, Aragorn crosses the Anduin assisted by the Beornings. Gandalf visits Minas Tirith and reads the scroll of Isildur. He then leaves for the Shire. On his way northwards, Gandalf gets word from Lothlórien that Aragorn passed by with captured Gollum, and changes his course to meet him. Aragorn brings Gollum to Thranduil in Mirkwood. Gandalf comes to Thranduil and questions Gollum. Gandalf leaves Mirkwood and resumes his course west for Hobbiton.
3018 Boromir and Faramir receive the riddle in their sleep. Sauron attacks Osgiliath. Death of Eradan II and Cúlalf, killed defending the bridge of Osgiliath beside their cousins Boromir and Faramir. Thorondir II becomes lord of Tumladen with his mother acting as his regent. About the same time Thranduil is attacked, and Gollum escapes. Boromir sets out from Minas Tirith for Rivendell. Gandalf imprisoned in Orthanc. Sauron learns of the treachery of Saruman, Frodo reaches Rivendell, the Council of Elrond is held and the Fellowship of the Ring formed. Belegorn, son of Tathrenes, engaged to a healer of Arnach. Birth of Alwed, son of Rhossolas out of wedlock.
3019 Deaths of Gollum, Boromir, Denethor II, Dáin II, Brand, Lotho Sackville-Baggins, Saruman, Théoden, Nazgûl destroyed, One Ring destroyed, End of Sauron, Bard II becomes King of Dale, Thorin III Stonehelm becomes King of Erebor, Aragorn takes the name Elessar, Aragorn takes the Sceptre of the Reunited Kingdom, Mirkwood renamed Eryn Lasgalen, East Lórien founded.
3020 Drúedain destroy remnant of Saruman's Orcs, Faramir and Éowyn wed.
3021 Éomer and Lothíriel wed. Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf, Bilbo and Frodo pass over the Sea.
#gondor#lotr#lord of the rings#tolkien#boromir#denethor#erran vs tolkien#soap operas in mannish sindarin#text post#timeline
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"Then a minstrel and loremaster stood up and named all the names of the Lords of the Mark in their order: Eorl the Young; and Brego builder of the Hall; and Aldor brother of Baldor the hapless; and Fréa, and Fréawine, and Goldwine, and Déor, and Gram; and Helm who lay hid in Helm's Deep when the Mark was overrun; and so ended the nine mounds of the west-side, for in that time the line was broken, and after came the mounds of the east-side: Fréalaf, Helm's sister-son, and Léofa, and Walda, and Folca, and Folcwine, and Fengel, and Thengel, and Théoden the latest. Then Éowyn bade those that served to fill the cups, and all there assembled rose and drank to the new king, crying: 'Hail, Éomer, King of the Mark!'"
#lotredit#tolkienedit#Éomer#Eomer#House of Eorl#Rohirrim#Eorlingas#Secondborn#Race of Men#he was young and he was king#my edits
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First Rider of Rohan painted. I give you Folcwine. Name is painted in English on one side and runes on the other. #paintingwarhammer #middleearthminiatures #middleearth #rohan #rohirrim #ridersofrohan #middleearthstrategybattlegame (at Simpsonville, South Carolina) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cb5vi-uuHjC/?utm_medium=tumblr
#paintingwarhammer#middleearthminiatures#middleearth#rohan#rohirrim#ridersofrohan#middleearthstrategybattlegame
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My illustration of Folcwine and the Beast - done in the grainy, pixelated, retro, dark fantasy style!
((This is my original character from my WIP novel ‘The Beast of Bannan Beofrith’ so please please PLEASE do not reupload, edit or use)
You’ll probably like my novel if you like…
👻 gothic folk horror
👻 celtic folklore
👻 medieval settings
👻 the witcher
👻 baldur’s gate iii
👻 skyrim
👻 Elves, man. Elves.
👻 MONSTERFUCKING.
👻 walking nukes and ignoring red flags
👻 LGBT romance
👻 D&D
👻 vampires, wraiths and werebeasts, oh my!
#tesblr#skyrim#the witcher#celtic folklore#folklore#welsh folklore#welsh#welsh mythology#illustrator#illustration#my artwork#my novel#lgbt writers#queer writers#lgbt artist#elves#monster#monster fucker#monsterfucking#baldur’s gate iii#dnd
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Holidays 12.14
Holidays
Ako Gishi Sai (Honoring the 47 Ronin; Japan)
American Revolutionary War Day
Audubon Christmas Bird Count begins (until 1.5)
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Yuletide Lad #3 arrives (Stufur or Shorty a.k.a. Pan Scraper; Iceland)
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Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 57 of 60)
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Premieres
Berlin, by Lou Reed (Musical Play; 2006)
Bird Box (Film; 2018)
The Bridge Over the River Kwai (Film; 1957)
Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Film; 1977)
Crimson and Clover, by Tommy James and the Shondells (Song; 1968)
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (Film; 1988)
The Expanse (TV Series; 2015)
Glory (film; 1989)
Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Film; 1990) [Hobbit #1]
If You Want the Rainbow (You Must Have the Rain), recorded by Fanny Brice (Song; 1928)
I’m Gonna Git You Sucka (Film; 1988)
The Jerk (Film; 1979)
King Kong (Film; 2005)
Lady, by Styx (Song; 1974)
London Calling, by The Clash (Album; 1979)
Mermaids (Film; 1990)
Miss Congeniality (Film; 2000)
Philadelphia (Film; 1993)
The Royal Tenenbaums (Film; 2001)
Saturday Night Fever (Film; 1977)
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (Animated Film; 2018)
Time Out, by The Dave Brubeck Quartet (Album; 1959)
Vanilla Sky (Film; 2001)
Wozzeck, by Alban Berg (Opera; 1925)
Today’s Name Days
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Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 348 of 2022; 17 days remaining in the year
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Celtic Tree Calendar: Ruis (Elder) [Day 19 of 28]
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Calendar Changes
December (Julian Calendar) [Month 12 of 12]
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Holidays 12.14
Holidays
Ako Gishi Sai (Honoring the 47 Ronin; Japan)
American Revolutionary War Day
Audubon Christmas Bird Count begins (until 1.5)
Buy A Tree Day
Day of the Martyred Intellectuals (Bangladesh)
Deck the Halls Day
Email Tag Day
47 Ronin Remembrance Day (Sengaku-ji, Japan)
Free Shipping Day
Halcyon Days begin (7 days before & after Winter Solstice)
International Hello Day
Journée du pull de Noël (Christmas Jumper Day; Belgium, UK)
Martyred Intellectuals Day (Bangladesh)
Monkey Day
More Good Today Day
National Energy Conservation Day (India)
National Tree Planting Day (Malawi)
Opposites Attract Day
Ozcanabans of Oz Convention (a.k.a. Oz Christmas)
Play An Old Song That You Didn't Like To See If You Still Don't Like It Day
Precalentines Day
Quantum Mechanics Day
South Pole Day
U.S. Park Police Day
Yoga Day
Yuletide Lad #3 arrives (Stufur or Shorty a.k.a. Pan Scraper; Iceland)
Food & Drink Celebrations
National Biscuits and Gravy Day
National Bouillabaisse Day
Roast Chestnuts Day
Independence Days
Alabama Statehood Day (#22; 1819)
Feast Days
Cat Herding Day (Pastafarian)
D'Alembert (Positivist; Saint)
Folcwin (Christian; Saint)
John of the Cross (Christian; Saint)
John III of the Sedre (Syriac Orthodox Church)
Matronian (Christian; Saint)
Nani Bird (Muppetism)
Nicasius of Rheims (Christian; Saint)
Nimatullah Kassab (Maronite Church)
Spyridon (Western Church)
Venantius Fortunatus (Christian; Saint)
Whiny Victimization Co-Dependency Day (Church of the SubGenius)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]
Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 57 of 60)
Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [56 of 57]
Premieres
Berlin, by Lou Reed (Musical Play; 2006)
Bird Box (Film; 2018)
The Bridge Over the River Kwai (Film; 1957)
Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Film; 1977)
Crimson and Clover, by Tommy James and the Shondells (Song; 1968)
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (Film; 1988)
The Expanse (TV Series; 2015)
Glory (film; 1989)
Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Film; 1990) [Hobbit #1]
If You Want the Rainbow (You Must Have the Rain), recorded by Fanny Brice (Song; 1928)
I’m Gonna Git You Sucka (Film; 1988)
The Jerk (Film; 1979)
King Kong (Film; 2005)
Lady, by Styx (Song; 1974)
London Calling, by The Clash (Album; 1979)
Mermaids (Film; 1990)
Miss Congeniality (Film; 2000)
Philadelphia (Film; 1993)
The Royal Tenenbaums (Film; 2001)
Saturday Night Fever (Film; 1977)
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (Animated Film; 2018)
Time Out, by The Dave Brubeck Quartet (Album; 1959)
Vanilla Sky (Film; 2001)
Wozzeck, by Alban Berg (Opera; 1925)
Today’s Name Days
Berthold, Johannes (Austria)
Snezhala (Bulgaria)
Ivan, Venancije (Croatia)
Lýdie (Czech Republic)
Crispus (Denmark)
Eho, Hengo, Hingo (Estonia)
Jouko (Finland)
Odile (France)
Berthold, Johannes (Germany)
Arrianos, Lefki (Greece)
Szilárda (Hungary)
Valeriano, Venanzio (Italy)
Auseklis, Dailonis, Gaisma (Latvia)
Alfredas, Kintvilė, Tarvainas (Lithuania)
Stein, Steinar (Norway)
Alfred, Arseniusz, Izydor, Naum, Pompejusz, Sławobor, Spirydion (Poland)
Apolonie, Calinic, Filimon, Tirs (Romania)
Branislava, Bronislava (Slovakia)
Juan, Nicasio (Spain)
Sixten, Sten (Sweden)
Apollonia (Ukraine)
Boyd, Boyden, Byrd, Horace (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 348 of 2022; 17 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 3 of week 50 of 2022
Celtic Tree Calendar: Ruis (Elder) [Day 19 of 28]
Chinese: Month 11 (Dōngyuè), Day 21 (Xin-Chou)
Chinese Year of the: Tiger (until January 22, 2023)
Hebrew: 20 Kislev 5783
Islamic: 20 Jumada I 1444
J Cal: 18 Zima; Foursday [18 of 30]
Julian: 1 December 2022
Moon: 66%: Waning Gibbous
Positivist: 12 Bichat (12th Month) [D'Alembert]
Runic Half Month: Jara (Year) [Day 5 of 15]
Season: Autumn (Day 83 of 90)
Zodiac: Sagittarius (Day 22 of 30)
Calendar Changes
December (Julian Calendar) [Month 12 of 12]
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The Walkers pt 6
Chapter 6 - this is long ;)... but so are most of the chapters in this work tbh...
Somehow, the small bird’s insistence gives him hope, forces him onwards, his long strides eating up the miles as he walks through the autumn weather; it is still sunny, but the nights are beginning to chill. Beorn is glad of his other skin when night falls, the fur keeping him pleasantly warm and protected from the wind that cries across the plains, bringing with it the first nip of winter.
Running.
As you flee, your lynx body has never run faster, and you don’t care about possible pursuit, don’t care about being spotted, you simply need to be somewhere you won’t be found by a Man when it comes at last, when the fire takes over, burning away all reason with furious need. You feel desperation licking at your heels, knowing Ordred will be back soon, along with his parents and siblings. You curse your biology, but there is no way you can explain to Athelstan’s family why you’re crying out in the barn, why you’re begging for your mate to quench the fire, why you’re covered in bruises. At best, they’ll think you’re insane, but at worst… at worst, Ordred will get his wish. You do not think you could survive that, not when you return to your right mind to find that you’ve mated with him because he was the only one available. Even Men might be affected by the scent of a female in heat, or simply look for their own pleasures. You have not had cause to test it. Athelstan was away for war the first time, but he kindly went to visit his sister the second time… you do not think Ordred will show you the same kindness, remembering his roving eyes and covetous gaze.
Even mated females are weak afterwards, relying on the care of their mate… It is a lesson your mother told you, her eyes pained with old sorrow as she spoke of her sister, set upon by Men, because she had strayed without care and used until she had no more to give, then left for dead. ‘You need your mate to care for you, or you need to make arrangements for your own care’, she said, and it was a lesson that stuck, having watched Lillia work herself bloody in the throes of what is now coming for you, dreading the agony even though you have gone through it before, survived before… but that was with Beorn, or at home on the farm, a small voice in the back of your head worries, with ready access to food or even just water. You snarl at the voice, your tail swishing as you put on another burst of speed towards the dark blur on the horizon.
Fear keeps you moving, keeps you running, a different fear than the last time you ran for your life, but no less potent, your lungs heaving in air as you push your paws to go faster, further, faster. You have to get far enough away that no one will find you, will force you into a bond you would not want if you could choose. There are reasons for mating in non-heat years, for learning, and building, and trusting, even for love – before there are cubs to tend and raise.
As you run, the embers light, consuming your flesh with more and more fire, until you feel like you are ablaze with it. You keep running, pushing away the mindless need with boundless fear. The trees beckon.
In the coolness of ‘haunted’ Fangorn, you surrender to yourself, feeling a wry amusement that your screams will add to the tales of the ‘evil’ trees if anyone hears you. They will not dare investigate, even if they do.
Beorn almost doesn’t believe it when he catches her scent, her territory marked around the boundary of a small farmstead; the smell is a little stale, but unmistakably Ullrae. He’d know her anywhere, even though it has been so long since the last time he smelled it. His heart beats faster, as he sets off in a run, loping with long strides towards the farm.
“Ullrae!” he calls, his voice hoarse with emotion. Ullrae does not appear. Instead, one of the straw-haired Men appears in the doorway. Beorn sniffs. He does not like the scent of this man – is this Ullrae’s friend? Her mate? – who picks up an axe before he steps any closer. Beorn smirks, wondering if the Man thinks himself a threat. The thrush chirps from its perch in his wild mane, scolding him for jostling it with his run. Beorn chuckles at the small bird, before focusing on the man with the axe. He is young, and looks strong – for a Man, at least. Behind him, an older woman appears. The resemblance is clear: his mother, most likely.
“Who are you?” the young man asks, staring suspiciously at Beorn’s smile. Beorn smiles wider, breathing in the scent of unease wafting from the man. Good. He does not smell like Ullrae; even if he did, Beorn isn’t sure he would have been any less intimidating. In fact, he might have been more so. He wants answers, and he wants them now.
“Beorn is my name,” he replies, nodding. The man seems startled, but then his face closes off in anger. Scenting the air, he does not think Ullrae is still here, but Beorn has to ask; he is so close, he can almost feel her, safe in his arms where she belongs. “I am looking for the woman Ullrae. Golden eyes and brown hair, about this tall,” he indicates; Ullrae is a little shorter than him, “sharp features.” The older woman opens her mouth, but the young man pushes her back inside the house before she can speak.
“Aye, she was here,” he says, darkly, “she’s dead. We buried her yesterday, by the pasture.” Beorn can’t speak, turning woodenly to the plot of upturned earth the Man indicates. He feels nearly paralyzed. “Now get you gone, tall one, there’s nothing for you here.”
Moving slowly, Beorn walks towards the new grave, falling to his knees beside the dirt. The thrush chirps, but he pays no attention to the tugging of its feet in his hair. Ullrae… her scent is here, faint, but he can’t deny that it is fresher here than at the borders of the farm where he first found it. Fresher… and mixed with the scent of death, the sweet decay of meat.
He is too late. He has not kept her safe, protected his mate… again.
Burying his fingers in damp soil, Beorn begins to sing softly. It is an old mourning song, learned many years ago, and he barely remembers the words as his tears water the earth around his clenched fists.
In the grasslands rivers flow
In the mountains Walkers roam
Hear my song of sorrow, mourning;
for now I Walk through life alone.
She joined the Hunt Eternal
forever wild she will run
her kin her welcome gladly
as they play in the rays of the sun
I walk the world on my own
only silence meets my roar
Until we join once again
and, as spirits, spread wings to soar.
“ULLRAE!!” her name is a roar; the bear’s roar of utter agony. There is no response; the thrush has flown away, though Beorn does not realise, staring numbly at her grave.
Beorn does not move until the last rays of the sun has long-since set. He knows at least one Man is watching, but he does not turn to see if it is the woman or the man, sees nothing but the path north as he removes his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Behind him, someone shrieks, but Beorn does not care, simply begins walking, naked, as his heart is torn apart, shredded by the vicious teeth of separation; separation so painful he does not know how he keeps walking. He believes he will find her once more, find her in the Hunt when he dies, but it is little comfort, one thought screaming in his head. Every step he takes, it resounds in his mind, breaks another little piece of his heart.
I am the last Walker.
He though so before, but he’s had thirty years of peace from that fact, and now… now he is alone once more, and he knows that this time… this time he will fight for vengeance alone, no longer caring whether he survives his hunt for the Orcs who destroyed his people.
“Why did you tell him she died?” Mildwyn frowns at her son. She has only met Ullrae a few times, and she is worried about what happened to her, why she has left so suddenly, leaving all her clothes and things behind. If that man knows Ullrae, maybe he’d be willing to help search for her? Folcwine had offered to stay and help, but she’d convinced her husband to return to Aldburg; the inn had been left in the care of less experienced hands for several days already.
“She will be my wife, mother,” Ordred replies, smiling. Mildwyn does not like that smile; it is too dark for her son. “When she returns, I will make her mine; whoever that man was, he will not come back, will not try to take her away.”
Mildwyn shakes her head. Ordred seems so certain of his future, but Athelstan said Ullrae did not want him; he wouldn’t… force her… right? Walking to the window, she looks out at the giant man who is crumbled by her brother’s grave; Mildwyn recognizes the motion of his shoulders as sobs. She cannot hear him, but there is no mistaking the grief in the lines of his body. Ordred is wrong to trick him so, she knows, the sight of such a powerful man brought low tearing at her mother’s heart, even if she doesn’t know him at all. It is clear that Ullrae was important to him; he has that same look as she did, something unusual and a bit animalistic – perhaps she is his kin? Making a swift decision, Mildwyn moves to the doorway, intending what she doesn’t know, but Ordred blocks her path easily. Looking over his shoulder, she watches the man undress, her mouth falling open at the sight. Ordred turns, and she pushes past him in his distraction, but he pulls her back into the house with a violent tug that makes her cry out in surprised pain at the strength of his grip.
“Stay here, mother,” he commands harshly, before ducking out of the small farmhouse. Mildwyn stares after him, heart racing. She wishes she had returned to Aldburg with her husband. This man… is not like the son she raised.
The bear moves among the trees, the Man little more than a ball of red-hot agony in the back of his brain. It doesn’t matter; the bear simply moves on, instinct guiding him towards his enemies. The bear does not think, it only knows that its mate is gone, and with her any hope of cubs – of a future. There is only vengeance left, only the siren-call of blood to be spilled, death to be dealt – and found.
You feel weaker than ever before when you come back to yourself; unable to move. You know you must, know you have to get up, get moving. Unless you wish to die here, you need food, but you don’t care. Grief envelops you as you lie in the mulch, too tired even to whimper, almost too dried out to weep. Athelstan will have been buried by now, you know, and you had not been there to witness it, had left before anyone came to the house. You wonder briefly what Mildwyn and Gyda will think to find you gone, but the thought disappears into a hazy doze. For a long time, you simply lie there, listening to the trees overhead, the sounds of animals uncaring that you are dying beneath the branches. You have stopped screaming; peace is once more restored in the forest and slowly the sound of a trilling bird fills your ears. You close your eyes, feeling the calm of the green world around seep into your bones.
The thrush is back, Beorn realises absentmindedly, and because he’s become so used to following the chirpy little thing the bear turns away from his straight north course, turns away from the straight path to vengeance and death and follows the bouncy ball of feathers as it hops from branch to branch, leading him to a small clearing.
Leaves cover the body, dirt streaks her skin; she blends in so well he’s almost stepping on her before he sees the naked woman. Nosing her neck, the bear whines, knowing that she is important, but the Man does not care to make sense of what he sees, what he feels, content to sit in his heart-ache and replay her face in a million lights and moods. The bear huffs, nosing cool skin again. The woman whimpers, but her eyes do not open. Lying down beside her, Beorn manages to grab her arm in his teeth, rolling over to pull her onto his back. Her wrist snaps, which makes him wince, but the woman does not even cry out at the pain. He walks, slowly, letting his nose lead him to water as he roars at the part of him that belongs in human skin.
They have to act fast; together, if there’s to be any hope at all.
Beorn has a weight on his back. That is odd. It’s his first coherent thought in a long time; it’s odd that his bear side is carrying something; bears do not usually carry things on their backs, except sometimes their cubs. When the scent hits him, he thinks it is no more than a memory; it is Ullrae’s scent, mixed with something indescribably delicious that makes his blood thrum wit recognition, but overlaid with a discordant sweet smell of approaching death. He shudders in revulsion. The thing on his back makes a sound, halfway between a moan and a whimper. Beorn freezes, staring into the stream he has reached as full consciousness slams back into him, two sides re-joining to form a whole, staring into the reflection in the water.
The face is achingly familiar beneath the dirt and the bloody trail of a split eyebrow that has already grown back together.
“Ullrae…” he whispers, changing back to his human shape before he is even aware of making the choice, laying her down on her back and looking at her battered form. Beorn whines low in his throat, pulling her up against his chest, frowning at the coolness of her skin. Cupping his hands in the clear stream, he brings them to her lips, whimpering when the water simply trickles into her mouth and back out, trailing down her chin. Kneeling on the ground, he shifts her, turning her back against his chest and hissing as her cold skin touches his warmth. In desperation, he pulls her up higher, lifting her into his lap and off the damp leaves, tilting her head back onto his shoulder and tries again, rubbing her throat to make her swallow reflexively. “Ullrae, please,” he whispers brokenly, hardly daring to believe this isn’t simply an exceedingly vivid dream soon-to-become the kind of nightmare where he can’t save her, having to watch her die in his arms. “Please, my love, you have to drink.” He needs to hunt something for her, but he doesn’t dare leave her alone; she’s too cold. If she was a lynx, he might trust to her fur to keep her warm, but he doesn’t know how to make her change shapes unconsciously; an oversight after twenty years of cohabitation. In desperation, he tries stroking the pressure points that would encourage his own shift, but nothing happens. Either it doesn’t work on her kind or she’s simply too weak.
Cupping his hands once more, he manages to get her to swallow another mouthful of water. She whimpers, huddling into his warmth. “Can you shift for me, wild thing?” he murmurs, but she doesn’t respond. Burying his face in her neck, drawing in her scent, Beorn’s tears fall onto her bruised flesh, streaking trails in the dirt that covers her. He would wash her, but the stream is icy, and she is already too cold, too pale, too still.
She needs food, but she needs to be warm before he can leave her… Beorn has an idea; it’s crazy, but it just might work. He doesn’t stop to think about it, using his teeth to score his wrist lengthwise, pressing the bloody wound against her lips. A moment passes, his other arm wraps around her, his fingers stroking her throat, trying to coax her to swallow his blood. Ullrae swallows once. Her tongue moves lightly over his skin, pleasingly rough as she laps up his blood weakly. This isn’t how mates are supposed to care for each other, he knows, but still feels a wild part of him sing with a combination of male pride and lust that he is caring for his mate, caring for her needs, giving her sustenance with – after a fashion – his own hands. Beorn smiles wryly. Ullrae swallows compulsively, sucking lightly. A distant part of him feels relieved she isn’t so far gone she would try to bite off his hand, or tear open his veins further. She only needs enough to spark her own survival instincts, get her body back on track.
“Be…orn…?” she whispers faintly, her head falling back against his shoulder once more. She is trembling.
“Hush now, wild thing,” he murmurs against her temple, bringing his wrist back to her mouth, watching his blood dribble between her chapped lips, watches her swallow the potent red fluid. He knows when she falls asleep, true sleep; the kind of nap she always needed after her heats – Beorn knows what has happened; what is only just finished happening. He can smell it on her skin, feel the answering stirring in his own loins, in his own blood. As much as he hurt her by staying away when she was in heat, he always spent those three days in a haze of lust himself, the smell of her more than potent enough to make him empty into his own fist, even when she was safely locked in the barn, far away from him and his base urges. He does not think he ever told her that he spent those three days locked up in the house himself, fighting the need to go to her, listening to her cries as penance.
As he licks the last drops of blood from his wrist, watching the small cut clot, his lust is overridden by his concern for her, his need to care for her; it’s a deep imperative, even if he rationally knows that she is not carrying a cub – his or anyone else’s. Shifting into his bear-form, he rumbles happily when she snuggles against him, wrapping his strong limbs around her to keep her warm. The bear watches her sleep, his eyes roving over her features again and again as he lets the sound of her breathing fill his ears.
It is hours later when she stirs, his blood crusted in the corner of her mouth as she stares blearily up at him, confusion in her golden eyes. She blinks.
“Be…orn?” she asks again, lifting her hand weakly to stroke his face, wincing slightly. Beorn feels a little guilty, remembering the way he sprained her wrist when the bear picked her up. He huffs, licking her cheek in apology as he rolls them, getting to his feet. When she makes to move, he growls at her to be still, knowing she can’t understand the words, but she will recognise the command. Ullrae crumbles back to the ground, making him wish he hadn’t left his clothes at what he had thought was her grave. Feeling a moment of complete panic at the memory of the freshly turned earth, he lopes back to her, licking her face again. Ullrae smiles weakly. The smell of death no longer lingers on her skin; she smells of him, now, smells like she is his. Satisfied, he gives her another lick before moving off among the trees, his nose scenting the air. She needs meat, and plenty of it.
You fall asleep once more, curled up in a small ball to keep the warmth Beorn has given you, your mind far too tired to make sense of hows or whys, checking out with the swift and silent steps of a lynx on the prowl.
You wake at the sound of a thump, something hitting the leaf mulch in front of your face with enough force to waft a leaf onto your nose. You sneeze, opening your eyes to see the carcass of a freshly killed deer in front of you, the meat still steaming.
You pounce.
It’s bloody and messy; you’re tearing strips of meat off the bones with your fingers and it’s glorious. When the first bites hit your stomach, you growl at the bear who has wisely retreated to the other side of the clearing, watching you eat with a smug satisfied air. Growling, you change skins, your sharper teeth and claws making greater inroads in the kill until you’ve gorged yourself on all the best pieces, filled the emptiness of your belly. Looking up, you catch sight of Beorn, truly registering his presence for the first time. You stare. His muzzle is bloody, something you know he dislikes, and you don’t even think before loping towards him, cleaning him with your tongue before you set to cleaning yourself, yawning widely. Beorn huffs at you; an amused sound, passing closely by you as he moves to the leftovers, eating what he wants and dragging the bare bones off into the underbrush to bury somewhere. You turn to the fresh stream, lapping greedily. Feeling pleasantly full, you change back, washing the parts of your human skin that are not raw and tender to the touch. You hiss loudly when you try to sit in the stream, the chilly water running red as you clean off the blood you have spilled over the past three days. You know you have scratched yourself bloody, feel the throbbing ache in your most abused flesh, but the coolness of the water numbs the pain a little.
“Ullrae,” Beorn whispers, making you look up at him. He reaches for you, seeming unsure all of a sudden and making you feel unaccustomedly shy about being naked. Looking down, you feel tears pressing, weeping for Athelstan and a little for yourself. Beorn’s arms wrap around you, pulling you from the icy stream and carefully wiping off the water with mullein leaves as he cradles you on his lap. “Spirits help me, Ullrae,” he whispers, and you can feel him tremble against you. At first you think he is chilled by the water, but the broken sound of pain he utters when you try to shift off him, combined with the way his arms tighten around you, convince you to stay were you are. You’re pressed against his chest, feeling safe and cared for as his face hides in your hair, his shoulders shaking with hard sobs; filled with a desperation you wish you could heal. You hide your own tears against his warm skin, bury your nose against the side of his neck, the soft and bristly hair on his furry jaw warming your face. A strange contentment fills you, dozing off as you let his familiar scent comfort you.
“Beorn?” you ask him, when your tears have stilled. His face is still buried in your hair, but he is no longer sobbing. His fingers press into your thigh.
“I thought you were dead,” he admits, crushing you tightly against him with a whimper. You reach out to stroke his arm, snuggling into his embrace. “I found your farm, and… and the Man told me you were dead, showed me your grave.” You stiffen, a snarl escaping you. Ordred! “And then I found you… Ullrae…” he can’t seem to say it, though you know what he means: you nearly died.
“I am here,” you whisper, your voice still hoarse from screaming. Beorn makes a wounded noise deep in his throat, his arms tightening around you. Turning forcefully, making him loosen his grip, you move to straddle him, keeping your weight on your knees. Pressing his head against your breast, you place your hand over his other ear so all he will hear is your heartbeat; strong and steady. Beorn’s arms are tight around your back, and you feel tears sliding down your skin, sliding down your own face too. You curl yourself around him, offering comfort the best you can.
“Don’t ever leave me,” he mutters, pressing his lips into the skin above your heart. “Never leave me,” he begs brokenly. It tears your heart apart to hear him sound like that, so far from his usual quiet rumble; his deep voice contorted with pain.
“What… what are you saying, Beorn?” you whisper, pulling on his long mane to get him to look up at your face. Your heart beats wildly, hope taking wing in a flutter of pure love as you stare down into his eyes; the colour of uisge and dark with emotion you don’t dare name. You want to kiss him, kiss away the pain he feels, licking your dry lips as you watch emotion swirl in the amber depths.
“I don’t want to live without you,” he says, stroking your cheek. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch with a soft purr, “I love you, my wild thing, I have always loved you; even when I was too stubborn to see it.” You want to believe him; you do… but you can’t. Your eyes snap open as you draw back, pull away from his large palm.
“What about Berveig?” you whisper, because you know the spectre that stands between you must be acknowledged, but hating that you’ve put sorrow into his gaze for even a moment as you watch the shadow pass across his eyes. “What about your son?” You can see him again, a small ball of dark brown fur looking up at you with blue eyes; you wonder suddenly if your own cub would look like that, if Beorn sired him. You stiffen, pushing the image out of your mind, not wanting to remember the small corpse Azog flung at you when he had had his fun.
“Berveig… I did love her,” he admits, his grip tightening around you when you try to move away. “And I am sad for her fate, the fate of our son… but she never stirred me to half the feeling the thought of losing you has done,” he whispers, pulling you back to him. You can hear the truth, the broken jagged edges of pain bleeding into his voice.
“Why did you never come looking for me?” you ask, leaving his confession hanging in the air between you. If he feels this way… why did he let you go? “It’s been more than nine summers since I last saw you,” you murmur sadly.
“Nine?” he asks, looking surprised. You frown, nodding; it’s been nearly ten, in fact. Beorn chuckles, getting to his feet slowly, keeping hold of you as he helps you find your own feet. “I was stubborn.” You smile; Beorn certainly is that. Your hands rest lightly on his chest, as you look up at him and wait for something to happen, break the tension thrumming between you. You open your mouth to speak, but Beorn continues quietly, “I spent a long time as a bear; enough time that I nearly forgot how to be a man. I was… lost.” You stare at him, abruptly frightened of what might have happened; once a Walker forgets how to Walk, they become the animal, in truth; it is the way of elders seeking death, seeking a natural end to a long life. Your fingers grip him tightly, a cry of fear spilling from your lips; you had not thought he would feel so, not after reading your letter. Beorn hushes you gently, his warm hand running down your back as you press your face into his chest. “My life was nothing but killing orcs and missing you. It is not the life I want,” he whispers, making you look up at him, hopeful but still a little scared. Dipping his head slightly, Beorn brushes a kiss across your nose. You wrinkle it in response, wanting more than that, wanting reassurance. Turning your face back to press into his warm skin, you breathe in the smell of him. “I want you, I want your love, if you’ll give it to me,” you mewl lightly, tilting your head up. Beorn chuckles, rubbing his nose against yours, “One day, I want your cubs, if we can, but if we cannot, I would still rather live my life with you than alone.” You tighten your hold at that, seeing again a small black-and-brown bear cub before your eyes. You’ve never dared hope he would want to… but now you do, and the feeling is nearly overwhelming.
“Are you sure?” you ask, when he presses his lips against yours in the softest of kisses.
“I love you, Ullrae Léonasdottir,” he murmurs, deepening the kiss. “Mate with me, make me yours as much as you are mine.” His hands press you closer, let you feel him press against you, even if he is careful not to use too much force on your still-tender skin. The bruises will take days to heal, even if shifting will help you mend quicker. You’re hungry again, though not only for food.
“My Beorn…!” you growl possessively, winding your fingers through his hair and pulling him back to your mouth, “I love you…mate.” With a joyously wild cry, he steals another kiss from your lips, grinning happily as his hands stroking your skin, relighting a few embers of desire despite your exhaustion. Attacking him with a frenzy of kisses, you still wince when your abused flesh rubs against his hard body. Beorn slows down, stroking lightly across your skin, careful with your bruises. You growl at his self-control, even though part of you knows that you are too weak still for more than a few kisses.
“Come home, ferhþlufe[1],” he murmurs against your lips.
“Have to return,” you reply, knowing you won’t be able to enjoy the new life you see before you if you do not let go of the one you have shared with Athelstan. “Have to say goodbye.” Beorn frowns unhappily, but he nods slowly.
“I’m coming with you,” he growls, shifting once more. You smile. Noting a few new scars in the fur on his face you had not spotted earlier, you trace one with your lips. The bear yips, an amused sound you’ve missed more than you realised. Kissing him once more, you take a step back, suddenly swaying with fatigue; unsure if you’ve yet regained the strength to shift, to move even. Before you, the massive black bear stands, huffing gently at you once, before moving to you and lying down on the leaves beside you.
“I may have overdone it a little, héahlufan[2],” you admit cheekily, and the bear huffs the equivalent of a laugh at the memory of your first hunt. You smile, running your fingers through his shaggy fur. Beorn nudges you lightly, nosing at your side. With a groan and a hiss of soreness, you climb onto his back, surrendering to his strength once more. This is your place, with your bear to keep you safe from the darkness without… and within.
Burying your face against his neck, you breathe deeply, enjoying the smell that is at once wild and home. You can feel the smugness radiating off him as he sets off at a smooth ground-eating pace. You try to stay awake, but you drift off to sleep as the large bear carries you away, moving easily through the forest while you rest.
[1] Heartfelt love
[2] Great love
@life-is-righteous
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An illustration I just did of my beloved OCs;
‘Aelf’ (Lord of the Lamplight, The Winterstar) and Folcwine (The Beast of Beofrith Moor, The Kindred King).
‘Dawn Approaches’ - Fine Liner on Paper
#illustrator#illustration#dnd ocs#my ocs#my novel#my art#dnd oc#dnd bloodhunter#dnd vampire#elves#half elves#dnd sorcerer#bloodhunter x sorcerer#half elf x light elf#werebeast#lgbt fantasy#Spotify
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the line of elros ❖ stewards of gondor ❖ headcanon disclaimer
Egalmoth was the grandson of Morwen, daughter of Steward Belecthor I, and thus a cousin to Steward Ecthelion I. When Ecthelion died with no other heirs, Egalmoth ascended to the Stewardship. His wife was the weaver Hareth, who outfitted him and all their children in the finest clothes in all Minas Tirith. During Ecthelion’s rule, King Déor of Rohan struggled to drive off the Dunlendings from the occupied Rings of Isengard, but as the orcs renewed their war with Gondor, Egalmoth was unable to send aid to his allies.
The son of Egalmoth and Hareth was Beren, named for the famed hero of the First Age. Upon succeeding his father, Beren spent much of his rule fighting the Corsairs of Umbar who assailed Gondor’s coasts. He struggled to defend his people and support them amid the harsh Long Winter, but before spring his son Beregond overcame the invaders, at last enabling Gondor to send aid to Rohan’s struggle against the Dunlendings. When the wars were over, the wizard Curunír suddenly appeared and requested leave to dwell in Isengard. Beren gladly gave him the key of Orthanc, relieved to have such a powerful ally at his border.
Beren’s son Beregond was the greatest captain since the time of Steward Boromir, and ruled Gondor in a time of recovery from the fierce wars of his father’s days. As his strengths lay in battle, Beregond relied on his mother Gildis to help him put the realm back in order. His wife Bregil was also eager to join in this work, and through the collaboration of the two sharp-minded women, Beregond saw his realm through new prosperity. When a new threat arose in the form of orcs invading the White Mountains after their defeat in the distant War of the Dwarves and Orcs, Beregond called upon his captains to eradicate them. Asdihil, Prince of Dol Amroth, perished in this effort, but the campaign was successful and Beregond once again proved his military might in making his lands safe.
Belecthor II, the only child of Beregond and Bregil, inherited a great legacy from his father but lived in a time of relative peace. Gondor enjoyed a period of growth, allowing for Belecthor to engage in a dramatic romance with his flighty wife Thúliel, who was drawn often to the sea and would leave him and their children for years at a time. Nonetheless, the two loved one another, and Thúliel always returned. Belecthor was the last of his line to pass the age of 100, living to be 120; his son Thorondir would proclaim that he may have lived longer had not Thúliel’s own death sapped him of his will to live.
Thorondir himself lived only to the age of 100, ruling a scant 10 years in total. Upon his father’s death, the White Tree of Gondor also perished, and Thorondir could find no seedling. At the advice of his wife Helheth, who despite her harsh name was a kind and giving woman, Thorondir decided to leave the dead Tree standing “until the King comes.” Such a time would, he believed, never come, and in this declaration Thorondir implied that the reign of the Stewards would never end, not even with the withering of the White Tree.
The son of Thorondir and Helheth was Túrin II, named for his ancestor of the same name. Unlike Túrin I, this Túrin was a man of great wisdom and a gentle heart; he loved his spouse Eregil deeply, and supported them even when he struggled to understand their discomfort with the role of Lady they had to play in public. In Túrin’s time, trouble once again stirred in Gondor, and when Sauron sent the Haradrim to cross the river Poros and attack the land thereabout, he rode to battle with King Folcwine of Rohan. Though the battle was won, Folcwine’s twin sons Folcred and Fastred were slain, and the heir of Prince Angharas of Dol Amroth was grievously wounded. Orcs also stirred themselves to violence, infesting Ithilien to the point where the last of its inhabitants deserted their homes. Túrin fortified the isle of Cair Andros to defend Anórien, and oversaw the building of secret refuges in Ithilien, occupied by a force of soldiers he named the Rangers of the South, led first by his son Turgon and Prince Angelimir of Dol Amroth.
After the chaos of his father’s time, Turgon was blessed with a peacefully uneventful rule of 39 years. Near the end of his life, Sauron declared himself openly in Mordor, but Turgon, wearied by the death of his wife Mírdholen whom he had adored and lavished with great jewels, left his son Ecthelion II to deal with this rising threat.
#tolkienedit#gondor#egalmoth of gondor#oc hareth of gondor#beren of gondor#oc gildis of gondor#steward beregond#oc bregil of gondor#belecthor ii#oc thuliel#thorondir#oc helheth#turin ii#oc eregil#turgon of gondor#oc mirdholen#my edit#tefain nin#line of elros#stewards of gondor
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