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horseshoehate · 10 months

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a/n: Here is part 4 of my Phish/Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings fan fiction

sorry it took so long to release! hope you enjoy!

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The festival was underway and Gandalf watched from the sidelines, his hands steady, but his mind beset with worry. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew it would not be easy.

As the sun began to set and the sky took on a blood orange color, its violent hue seeping into every crevice of the river's valley, Phish finally took the stage, and with them was heard thunderous applause.

The band members took to their instruments and stepped up to their usual positions, pausing for a moment to look out at the massive crowd of elves, dwarves, men, and hobbits. Then the first notes of "Buried Alive" rang out and Phish began their frantic driving melody.

Gandalf knew in his heart that this could mean only one thing: this was another part of Sauron's plan to turn the hearts of every being in Middle Earth. He knew that he must act before Evil Trey used his jams to corrupt the crowd, though he also knew that he must wait for the most pivotal moment of the show in order to undo all of the damage that may have been done to the crowd thus far.

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Flashing his VIP pass, Gandalf was able to make it all the way to the side stage, where a bewictched guitar tech handed him Trey's trusty Blonde No. 1, the original Mar Mar.

As the second set opener, Cities, ended, Gandalf stepped out onto the stage. Seeing him approach, Mike quickly realized what was happening and announced to the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to our friend Gandalf the Grey. He's gonna play a few tunes with us tonight!"

Evil Trey looked furiously at Mike, but allowed it to continue. He knew what Gandalf was up to, but knew that he was a powerful enough guitarist to rebuff any attempts to undo the awesome evil magic that had been bestowed to him by Voldemort and refined by Sauron.

Gandalf smiled to the crowd and took his place between Trey and Mike. Gandalf, known for his mastery of the lute, was only slightly out of his element on this Languedoc.

The band then slipped into an uptempo Tweezer, with Evil Trey and Gandalf take turns keeping the Tweezer main theme, each biding their time.

As the band steered into the jam section, Evil Trey and Gandalf turned to face each other, the other members giving them space as the two begin dueling.

The audience is stunned as the two guitarists trade lick after lick, their fingers moving faster than the eye can see. Gandalf played with a fiery passion, his notes piercing the air like bolts of lightning. Evil Trey responded with a cold, calculated precision, his playing as sharp and deadly as a sword.

The music was unlike anything the crowd had ever heard before. It was powerful and magical, and, for a moment, it seemed to be working. Evil Trey's eyes began to clear, and he stumbled back, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. As he played, the power of music coursed through the air, fueling the forces of good and weakening the grip of evil upon Evil Trey's mind.

But the forces of Sauron were strong and not to be underestimated. Fueled by hatred and armed with Evil Mar Mar, it now seemed as though Evil Trey has the upper hand. His playing was so powerful that it threatened to overwhelm Gandalf, and it was all the wizard could do to keep up. But Gandalf was not one to give up easily, and he redoubled his efforts, pouring his heart and soul into the music.

The crowd was on the edge of their seats as the guitar duel reached its climax. Gandalf and Evil Trey played faster and faster, their fingers a blur as they raced up and down the fretboards. Finally, with a mighty flourish, Gandalf played a thunderous chord that shattered the curse that had been holding Evil Trey in its grip, ending the song in the same motion, shouting "Begone foul spirits, you shall not enter this mortal's mind again!"

Evil Trey stumbled back, falling to the ground. He went completely limp. As the rest of the band ran towards him, he lifted head in a daze, waking up fully from his trance for the first time in a long time.

"Welcome back, my friend." Gandalf said warmly as Page helped Trey to his feet. Fishman helped him backstage, where Elrond produced a magical revilatizing exiler and gave it to Trey.

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30,000 Phish fans stood in utter silence for what felt like years as they waited for their favorite band to come back out. Finally, they saw Trey slowly amble out, pale but smiling at them. He gave a quick wave and picked up his guitar, though opting for the original Mar Mar this time.

As the other members got into place (Gandalf choosing to stand off stage and watch), Trey moved to the microphone and took a deep breath, surveying the eager crowd. He then began singing a moving version The Squirming Coil.

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After the band finished playing, Trey retired to the House of Elrond to seek Elvish medicine. The rest of the band would stay behind with him while he rested for a few weeks.

Approaching the Evil Mar Mar, which had been left lying on the ground next to Trey's rig, Gandalf reached down to pick it up. As he did, a horrid vision took his mind and he saw flashes of the wicked Eye of Sauron. He knew it best not to touch the instrument directly and wrapped it in cloth before carrying it to be inspected by Elrond.

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Looking it over with an apprehensive eye, Elrond concluded his inspection by saying, "Yes, there is dark, powerful magic within this, indeed."

"What are we to do with it? No mortal can wield it, it would corrupt the heart and mind of any who dared try." Gandalf asked worriedly.

"In the fires of Mt. Doom it was crafted and only there can it be uncrafted." Elrond said.

"How can that be?" Asked an elf, "It is but a wooden instrument. It is of the forest!"

"It was made with the expertise of a dark craftsman that even I know not the true making of this instrument. It was embued with such mythic evil, that using any tools that we here possess would never work. Only in the fiery chasm of Mt. Doom can this otherworldly magic be unmade." Elrond said with displeasure. "Though wood it may be, there is powerful magic at hand to protect this instrument."

Gandalf nodded, understanding the weight of the situation. "Then it must be taken to Mount Doom. But who among us can bear this burden?"

A hush fell over the room as the band members and the fellowship exchanged glances. It was clear that this task required someone with strength, resilience, and a deep connection to the music. The presence of the Evil Mar Mar was not to be taken lightly.

Finally, Trey stepped forward, his eyes filled with determination. "I will take the instrument to Mordor," he said, his voice steady, "Though I do not know the way. I have been through the depths of darkness and emerged stronger. I have felt the power of this instrument and I know what it can do. It is my responsibility to see it destroyed."

The fellowship exchanged solemn nods, recognizing the sacrifice Trey was making. Just as they were about to bid Trey farewell on his perilous quest, a voice broke the silence. It was Mike, the band's bassist, stepping forward with unwavering determination.

"Trey, my oldest friend, you shall not bear this burden alone," Mike declared. "We have traveled this musical journey together, and I cannot stand idly by while you face such darkness. I offer what I can to you on this quest, myself and my bass."

Trey's eyes welled with gratitude as he nodded. "Thank you, Mike. Your funky grooves and unwavering spirit give me strength."

Not to be outdone, Page, the band's keyboardist, stepped forward next, his fingers itching to weave smooth melodies into the very fabric of the quest. "Trey, Mike, I can't let you embark on this dangerous journey without me. Together, our harmonies will carry us through the darkest of times. I offer you my keys."

With a smile, Trey embraced Page. "Page, your musical prowess and ability to light up any stage with your melodies will be invaluable."

Just then, Fishman, the band's drummer, took a step forward, his drumsticks twirling in his hands. "If you think I'm going to miss out on an adventure like this, you're mistaken," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Besides, someone has to keep the rhythm of this journey alive."

Trey chuckled and clapped Fishman on the back. "Fish, your beats are the heartbeat of our band. I wouldn't embark on this quest without your infectious energy and impeccable timing."

Gandalf, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and pride, beheld the band members stepping forward, one by one, offering themselves for the daunting task at hand. In their unwavering commitment and the unbreakable bond that bound them together, he glimpsed the true essence of Phish's power. "Truly," Gandalf mused softly, his voice carrying the weight of profound realization, "the might of Phish lies not solely within their captivating music, but within the unspoken harmony that resonates between their souls."

And thus, the Fellowship of the Mar Mar was formed.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 7 months

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I belong with my One; Fili x Dúnedain reader

*Author's note*

So this took me a few days to finally get finalized and write down so I hope @futuristicyouthvoid I hope you enjoy this fic. For this fic I've put that instead of Kili getting shot by the Morgul arrow, reader gets shot saving him and ends up getting sick.

Warnings: reader poisoned, near-death experience, some angst and some fluff.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@queen-paladin

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So much has happened in such little of time. First Gandalf offers me a proposition for aiding a company of Dwarves, then we’re being pursued by orcs, then get imprisoned by the Elven king Thranduil. Now we find ourselves at the mercy of the Men of Laketown.

Thankfully another friend of mine Bard was willing to let us stay the night at his house but of course the Dwarves had to screw it all up by going to the armory to steal the weapons and end up getting caught by the Master of the Lake’s guards. But by some miracle, we were granted the supplies we needed to get us to Erebor to complete the quest before sunset. Of course I knew it was because of the Master’s greediness that he agreed to help, he never was a good man.

“You do know we’re one short, where’s Bofur?” Bilbo asked.

“If he’s not here, we leave him behind.” Said Thorin.

“We’ll have to, if we’re to find the door before nightfall. We can’t risk no more delays.” Balin agreed grimly as everyone began piling into the boat. But as I was just halfway over the plank, I felt a hand stop me.

“Not you.” I turned to see Thorin.

“What?”

“We must travel at speed, you’ll only slow us down.” He told me.

“I’m coming with you all to the Mountain. I promised Gandalf that I would.”

“(Y/n), you have been a big help to me and my kin. The first Ranger to truly stand for our cause. But lately you haven’t been up to par on your health. Stay here and rest, rejoin us when you’re healed.” Just because I’ve been feeling a bit sluggish since the river incident, doesn’t mean I’m helpless.

“Thorin—”

“I will say no more on the matter.” Without another word, Thorin went back onto the boat whilst I had no choice but to sit back down on the docks, feeling a chill suddenly come over me.

“I’ll stay with the lass, my duty lies with the wounded.” Oin said as he voluntarily got off the boat and came up to me.

“Uncle, (Y/n) has done more for this company than any other outsider could’ve done for us. You cannot repay her by leaving her behind.” Fili stepped up for me.

“Fili no.” I told him.

“I will carry her if I must!” Fili argued.

“Fili, one day you will be king and you will understand. I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of a Ranger. Even if she were the only one willing to help us.” As Oin began feeling my forehead for a temperature, I soon watched as Fili stormed off the boat but Thorin stopped him. “Fili, don’t be a fool. Your place is with the company.”

“My place is with her!” he snapped back at his uncle before taking back his arm and came over to me.

“Why did you do that? I thought you always wanted to see Erebor, you told me so yourself.”

“I’ll have plenty of opportunities to see the kingdom in my lifetime, but your wellbeing is more important to me than all the gold in Erebor.” I felt my cheeks grow warm as I softly thanked him.

“And don’t think it’ll just be Fee that’s gonna help you get back on your feet.” We turned to see Kili had also left the boat.

“Kili, you didn’t have to stay behind too.” Fili said.

“Yeah I could’ve gone but it’s my decision too.” He came up to me and stood on my right side. “You saved my life back in the Woodland realm, I’ll gladly do everything I can to help you now (Y/n).” I smiled and looked at the brothers.

“You guys truly are the best friends I’ve ever had. Thank you.” They both nodded and as the Laketown band played a victorious fanfare to wish our friends luck, a sudden dizziness overcame me.

My vision was going in and out of focus and as the crowd cheered as the boat with our friends departed from the docks, I suddenly fell forward, the last thing I heard was Fili’s voice calling my name.

*3rd Person POV*

When (Y/n) had passed out on the dock, Fili cried out (Y/n)’s name as Oin came up and began searching over her body for any trace of an infected wound or trace of blood. Knowing that she had saved Kili from that arrow back when they were trying to escape the orcs on the river, there must’ve been a wound he might’ve missed before they came across Bard.

“OH, did you miss the boat too?” they soon heard the missing Dwarf, Bofur’s voice say. But the moment he saw (Y/n) passed out, his concern grew as he asked Kili. “What happened to her?”

“We don’t know. She just—suddenly passed out.”

“Her fever’s spiking lads. We have to get her help right away!” Oin said.

“Kee, help me out here!” together the brothers lifted her up by her arms while Oin and Bofur got her legs and they walked back towards the Master’s manor to ask for help. After pushing through the guards, Fili cried out. “Please wait! Please, we need your help. Our friend is sick!”

“Sick? Is it infectious?” the Master exclaimed fearfully as he covered his nose with his handkerchief and fearfully cowered behind Alfrid. “Get back! Alfrid, Alfrid don’t let them come any closer!”

“Please. We need medicine.” Oin pleaded. Alfrid walked closer as he sneered at them.

“Do I look like an apothecary? Haven’t we given you enough? The Master’s a busy man, he hasn’t got time to worry about sick Rangers! Let alone this one right ‘ere. All she’s ever done for this town is ruin the Master’s good name and turn the people against him.”

“She’s helped these people in their hour of need! Are you willing to let her die because of your own selfish needs?!” Kili demanded.

“None of our concern. She’s not a paying citizen here, therefore she’s not our problem. Now off you pop! Less we use more drastic measures.” With that Alfrid and the Master shut the doors and the guards ordered them away.

After being rejected by the Master, they tried going to other people to see if they could help but all of them were either too scared to go against the Master’s wishes, or didn’t have enough supplies to help aid her as well as their own sick family members.

With no other options left, the Dwarves raced back to Bard’s home. Knowing of their friendship, they’d hope that at least he could help them. Bofur knocked on the door frantically and as soon as Bard saw them, he sneered.

“No, I’m done with Dwarves. Go away!” he went to shut the door but Bofur stopped him pleading.

“No, no please! Please! No one will help us. (Y/n) is sick.” Bard opened the door further to see his good friend now sickly pale, strands of her hair stuck to her face from the profuse sweating she was doing, and her breathing was now choked gasps. “She’s very, very sick.” Even with the grievance he had with the Dwarves for risking the safety of not only his children but the entire town of Dragon fire, he didn’t have the heart to turn his dear friend away.

“Bring her in.” Bard stepped aside and the four dwarves quickly piled in while Bard quickly looked around before shutting the door. “Put her over there. I’ll see what I have.” Bard went to the back of the house as the Dwarves set her down on the nearby couch. Fili took her hand between his and squeezed it.

“Hang on (Y/n), we’re all here to help you. Just…..don’t go where I cannot follow.” He whispered to her stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Kili watched his older brother and knowing of his feelings towards the Ranger, he couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing that it was because of his carelessness that the woman his brother loved got hurt to save him.

As the night overcame the lake, (Y/n)’s health was gradually becoming worse. Oin did managed to find a small graze just underneath her elbow. A graze that came from an orc arrow tipped with poison. Already the wound (even for as small as it was) had already started to become infected and the poison was spreading fast.

(Y/n) was tossing and turning, panting as her body was glistening with sweat.

“Nothing’s working! Can you not do something!?” demanded Fili who was growing more frantic by the second seeing the woman he came to love be in such agony.

“I need herbs! Something to bring down her fever.” Bard soon came in with some more supplies and began listing them off.

“I have nightshade, feverfew…..”

“No, no there no use to me. Do you have any Kingsfoil?” said Oin but Bard told him.

“No. It’s a weed we feed it to the pigs.”

“Pigs? Weed. Right. Don’t move.” Bofur said before leaving the house. As Kili was continuing to dab a damp, cool cloth across (Y/n)’s face and neck to ease her of her sweating, a rumble was soon heard coming from the mountain.

“Da?” asked one of Bard’s daughters Sigrid.

“It’s coming from the mountain.” Answered Bard’s son, Bain. Bard had feared the worst, the dwarves had awoken Smaug the Terrible and soon the prophecy would come to pass, the Lake will shine and burn.

“You should leave us.” Fili said as he walked up to Bard. “Take your children, get out of here.”

“And go where? There’s nowhere to go.” Bard told him in defeat. Little Tilda stepped in front of her siblings and asked her father fearfully.

“Are we going to die Da?” Bard looked at his youngest child and assured her.

“No darling.”

“The dragon, it’s going to kill us.” Bard then turned towards a beam just above the kitchen and gripped a thin but firm piece of what appeared to be black iron. He pulled it down from the beam to reveal that it was a Black arrow, the very same black arrow that can only be used to kill the dragon.

“Not if I kill it first.” Bard said determinedly. He then asked his son to come with him while the girls stayed behind with the Dwarves to help take care of their Aunt.

Time passed and (Y/n)’s fever was getting even worse. Her breathing was sharp and panicked and she was now starting to writhe in agony.

“Durin’s beard where is Balin with that Kingsfoil!?” Fili demanded.

“I have the right mind to go out and look for him myself!” Kili snapped.

“You can’t leave! With the guards on patrol, they’ll arrest you too and aunt (Y/n) will never get better!” Bain said. “No one is leaving this house understood!?” hearing the young man take a stand against the Dwarves made them both feel shock and admiration.

“Very well laddie. But I don’t know how long (Y/n) has got left, she’s growing weaker by the second.” Oin said to Bain.

“Tilda, Sigrid, come with me to get more rags and water for aunt Hela.” The siblings soon left while Fili gripped (Y/n)’s hand tighter.

“Fi…….li.” she choked out.

“I’m right beside you (Y/n).” he whispered to her. Slowly opening her eyes she croaked out.

“Fili…..if anything hap-happens to me—”

“Don’t talk like that (Y/n). We’re going to heal you, Bofur’s probably found the Kingsfoil by now, he’s just probably ducking the guards and taking longer. Please don’t give in now.” He squeezed her hand between his. “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Suddenly a scream was heard and next thing everyone knew orcs began dropping down from the rooftop or coming in through the front door. The dwarves grabbed whatever they could to fight off the orcs but there were too many of them, and with the tightly constricted area the house provided, there was hardly any fighting room.

Kili got the children to duck under the table and fought off any orc that tried to come close to them, while Oin and Fili worked together to fend off any orc that came near (Y/n). When they thought they were done for, help came from both Legolas and Tauriel who had been tracking down the orcs since they left Mirkwood.

As Fili managed to block an orc’s attack with a kitchen knife, (Y/n) had managed to crawl out of the couch and use a fire-poker to stab the orc through its spine. But she soon let out a cry of agony as she collapsed to the ground, the poison fully starting to overcome her. Eventually, all the orcs were either killed off or had begun to retreat from the house.

“You killed them all.” Bain said as he and his sisters got out from under the table after all went quiet in the house.

“There are others, Tauriel.” Legolas ordered but Tauriel was hesitant. As Oin came down beside (Y/n) and felt around her neck to feel her pulse was slowing down, Fili and Kili came down beside her as Oin said fearfully.

“We’re losing her!”

“Tauriel.” Legolas said to her. She turned back to her prince and said.

“The Ranger has done no harm to us, is there nothing we can do to help her?”

“She is beyond help. I’m sorry, there’s nothing that can be done for her.” Footsteps could soon be heard racing up the stairs and as the two elves prepared for another battle with orcs, they stopped to see that it was Bofur carrying some Athelas in his hand.

“Athelas,” Tauriel exhaled as she took it from him and admired it. “Athelas.”

“What are you doing?” Bofur asked nervously. Tauriel looked into the room before looking back at him and said.

“I’m going to save her.” Legolas’ eyes briefly narrowed.

“Tauriel…..”

“You may go if you wish Legolas, but I cannot leave the she-ranger to perish in such agony. Not whilst she still clings to life and that I now have her only salvation.” The young prince took a deep breath then exhaled.

“What would you have me do?” the two elves raced back inside and Tauriel ordered.

“I need water fast. Get her on a solid, stable surface. Lay her flat on her back.” Every in the room reacted quickly. Tilda gave Tauriel the bowl of water for her to mix the Athelas together, whilst Legolas and the Dwarves worked together to get (Y/n) on the table.

She was screaming and writhing in pure agony, her mouth starting to grow black with the poison.

“Where is the wound?” Legolas asked.

“Underneath her left elbow.” Oin said. Legolas took hold of her left wrist and raised her arm above. But when she tried to struggle, he was forced to also grab her forearm to pin it down and there he saw it. The black graze and he could see the infection had fully spread and blackened her entire elbow.

“Hold her down.” Tauriel said. Kili and Bofur held down her right leg while Bard’s children held down her left. Fili held (Y/n) by the shoulders and Oin helped Tauriel brew the medicine. Once it was brewed, Tauriel cut through the sleeve of (Y/n)’s shirt to get a better access to the wound.

The female ranger appearing like a rapid animal, screaming, grunting and thrashing about trying to free herself. Tauriel took some of the Athelas and began rubbing it onto her hands as she chanted.

“Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth.” She then placed her hands over the ranger’s wound and (Y/n) let out an agonizing scream. Fili softly shushed her stroking through her hair and whispering in her ear all the while Tauriel kept chanting the spell.

Bit by bit, (Y/n)’s animalistic behavior quietened and then she went still. Her breathing now soft and not as frantic as it had been. Fili looked down at her worriedly and Kili asked.

“Will she be alright?”

“Athelas has powerful healing properties. With time and rest, she’ll regain her full strength. A few more minutes and she would’ve been beyond even with the aid of the Athelas.” Responded Tauriel. The dwarves and Bard’s children breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” Fili said to Tauriel. She gave him a soft but tight smile as well as a soft nod. Then both she and Legolas left to deal with the orcs.

After her healing, Fili wrapped up (Y/n)’s wound with some bandages and kept vigil at her side. Never before had he felt so scared than he had felt at that moment. Fearing that the woman he had come to become fond of—nay love throughout this quest, he wouldn’t have known what to do had she been lost to him.

“She’ll be alright Fili. She’s strong, she’ll be back on her feet in no time.” His brother tried to assure him.

“I know. But seeing her go through all that pain, all that suffering, and who knows if she even knew she had been hit.”

“Even if she did, she’s got the stubbornness of a Dwarrowdam. Perfect woman for a guy like you.” Fili turned to his brother. “You may try to have hide it from the others but you can’t hide anything from me Fee. I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at her since Rivendell. You care for her more than just as a friend.” Fili sighed and looked down to her.

“I don’t even know how it happened. But after all that we’ve been through, seeing her in a—domestic way. The way she was with her younger cousin, the way the sunlight seemed to reflect off her hair, and the way her eyes shone like jewels in the dark. Kee……I feel as if she is my One.”

“And you should follow through that brother.”

“But would it work? A dwarf and a human? It’s never been done before?”

“Is that what’s really troubling you? Or is it that you fear she doesn’t feel the same way?” Fili remained quiet.

“This quest has shown me that life is too fragile. And at any moment, any one of us can be taken away by any means. I want to tell her my true feelings but—not now. Not while our lives are still in danger. Perhaps when we reach the mountain, I’ll work up the courage to tell her but I—”

“I understand brother. The turmoil that must’ve been stirring in your heart seeing her on death’s doorstep, if you had confessed your love for her beforehand and it be too late to save her……I can’t imagine the pain that would’ve been.”

“She’s too precious to me.” Fili said as he stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. “I feel like if she had died tonight, my heart would’ve died with her. My body may have continued to live on but my heart would never be full again.”

“Take comfort now that she’s alive and that she’s recovering. No more darkened thoughts need cloud your mind anymore.” Kili said as he placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder, gently shaking it. Fili turned to his little brother and nodded giving him a soft smile.

“Thank you Kili. I know I’m supposed to be the older brother here but, I’m glad that you were here to be the one to ease my mind.”

“I’m always here for you brother, and I always will be. Together forever right?” he extended his other hand out.

“Together forever little brother.” Fili clasped his other hand with Fili’s as they pressed their foreheads together, drawing in each other’s strength.

*My POV*

All I remembered was darkness, as well as a voice reaching out for me. Then a bright light and soon silence. I don’t remember much after that but I do remember hearing Fili’s voice along with Kili’s.

“She’s too precious to me.” I felt something graze my cheek with the most gentlest touch. “I feel like if she had died tonight, my heart would’ve died with her. My body may have continued to live on but my heart would never be full again.”

So did Fili actually feel the same as I have come to feel for him? Oh Fili, I-I love you too. And I do hope that one day I can say that aloud, but for now I was just too weak to even open my eyes. I soon passed out once again but it wasn’t until the sound of giant wings flying towards us had me opening my eyes.

Smaug was coming for us. And he was out for blood.

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dicebound · 2 months

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Legend in the Mist - Kickstarter Now Live!

Son of Oak is excited to announce their next game, Legend in the Mist, a rustic fantasy RPG based on the award-winning and groundbreaking narrative game engine of City of Mist.

Spin a fireside tale of unlikely villagers setting out on a quest into a greater unknown world, rife with peril and mystery, in the vein of The Lord of the Rings, The Wheel of Time, Princess Mononoke, and many other classic fantasy stories, or create your own legendary realms with the game’s open-ended system.

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Legend in the Mist is a narrative roleplaying game with optional tactical features, that evokes the feeling of an old fireside tale. You gather your companions, journey through the countryside and wilderness, overcome dangers both natural and ancient, then have campfire conversations about what it all means.

Rather than another D&D-clone, Legend in the Mist focuses on bringing story and gameplay together with each one of its features, from its simplicity at the table to built-in tools for developing personal story arcs for your characters that lead to dramatic moments of transformation

Each PC has multiple and sometimes conflicting motivations that the player must juggle between. Players are encouraged to make hard choices, which can eventually transform their characters in dramatic story moments: they swap out themes and all the tags associated with them for new themes and ability sets, changing the character’s gameplay.

PCs constantly evolve narratively, changing their “class”, shifting to a new role in the party, or resolving a major backstory event – and coming out of this transformation with newfound abilities.

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 6 days

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heartbeat (thorin oakenshield x female!modern! reader)

gif by me!!

desc. - reader puts her CPR lessons to good use when thorin's on the brink of death. (inspired by an imagine by @imaginexhobbit but make it sad🫶 also i listened to "farewell to dobby" while reading this, it adds so muchhh)

warnings - angst 💔

word count - 2.7k

For most of the time you’d been traveling with Thorin and his merry band of warriors, you could only account a few times you provided yourself useful to the group. Bofur was a whittler and toy maker, Oin a healer, Ori a scribe. Thorin and his sister-sons, the rightful heir to a kingdom. Even Bilbo had squeezed his way into a position of burglary, though he was hardly fit, and was still fighting to prove himself.

You?

A few stories around the campfire. Some questions answered about where you’d appeared from out of nowhere in particular. Mouth watering modern food recipes you babbled on about, over rabbit stew Bombur happily served on the cold nights on the road. And sure, you were getting good with a sword, but not nearly as skillful as the fearless fighter Dwalin.

You could see the malevolence and distaste in Thorin’s eyes when Gandalf decided for himself that you would make a fine addition to the group. After all, some otherworldly stranger happening upon them just as their fateful quest began was no coincidence. To him it meant something. But to the leader of the group? Danger? Deadweight? You couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it settled behind his cold, steel-blue eyes and swelled whenever he watched you fail miserably at every task given.

You simply weren’t built for a world like this.

Thorin didn’t hate you. He wasn’t necessarily fond of you either. And how you longed to fit in, impress him maybe. Break past whatever tough exterior that he used to keep a distance between the two of you. Pushing too much would surely annoy him, so you opted to keep to yourself, sitting back and placing yourself near Gandalf and the witty Bilbo Baggins, who seemed to have walked a few miles in your own shoes. If he could wear them, that is. Hoping maybe one day the King under the mountain would come around. Maybe.

But now, soaring over the horizon of a morning sun and above the towering mountains, on the feathered back of a massive bird, Bilbo had proven himself in his bravery, and you were alone and useless in your skills.

You were seated atop the same eagle as the halfling, right behind another that carried Thorin’s limp body in its talons, wind and the worried cries of his nephews rushing through your hair and past your ears. Azog’s fight was not an easy one. Not that you could do much anyways, dangling uselessly from a blazing pine tree and fingers slipping from its scorching branches. But Thorin, ever the brave, was taken down quickly.

Thank the lord for Gandalf’s endless alliances.

Now, the eagles circled a plateau, oddly sticking out from above high treetops like a sore thumb, and began to descend to its slanted surface where each member of the company jumped off. Some destination this was, hundreds of feet off the ground. You’d think they might find a safer spot to land this band of underground dwelling travelers but beggars can’t be choosers. At least you were out of harm's way for the time being. The eagle you and Bilbo rode flew low enough for you to hop off and land safely on the cliff’s surface, then turn and see Thorin, unconscious and unmoving, set down gently in front of the rest of the group.

They all crowded around him, shouting and shaking his body vigorously, but to no avail. Your stomach dropped when you heard one of them mutter a word that sounded like “dead”.

You rushed over, just getting a few glimpses of his face from behind the heads of thick hair and heavy fur coats circling him like vultures, Bilbo at your heels and following in curiosity.

“He’s not breathing!”

“Thorin! Thorin, wake up!” A hand tapped on the side of his face.

You immediately began shouting to clear some room. The sea of worried dwarves parted for you, just enough room to sling your haversack off your shoulders and lean down on your knees, bringing an ear to his mouth. They were right. Not a breath to be heard. Nor a pulse, you discovered, after placing your fingers to the side of his cold neck.

“No…no no, no.”

The company shared confused mutters and looks, worry lines still etched like canyons in their faces as they watched you clamor to unclasp his thick cloak and pull away as much clothing as you could from his chest.

Now, you were no doctor. Not even a medical student for that matter. Just barely scraping by with an art degree and two, low paying part-time jobs back home. Wherever that was. But, thankfully, those required CPR lessons back in junior high suddenly came rushing back to you, and you were gonna put to the best use you could.

You locked your elbows, flattened your palms, and then hastily pressed against the brute of his firm chest. Mahal, it was stubborn, and the armored shirt between your hands and his heart was no help, but acting quickly spared no time for shedding any more of his clothes. Again and again you pressed, one, two, just how the instructor taught you with her quick tongue and loud voice.

“An even pace! You’re going to lose him!”

The recall made your head spin, especially considering it might have been a bit comedic at the time, trying to revive an armless mannequin on the tile floor of your classroom. But under the steady pressure of your palms was a real person, teetering on the edge of life and death.

Gandalf landed somewhere behind you, being the last to touch ground, but he was forgotten in the sea of deep voices asking what you could possibly be doing.

By the 16th compression, you were beginning to break a sweat. Twenty, twenty one…

“Lass… what are ya’ doing?” Bofur's voice, usually friendly and jovial, was a low and cowering one. His question left the rest of the group quiet. You heard, but you didn’t answer. That would be for later when this was over. Preferably with a happy ending.

Thirty.

You moved to pinch Thorin's nose shut, tilting his head just slightly off the ground with the other hand tangled in his hair and breathed into his open mouth.

Any and all bewildered muttering was lost on the focus you had, to watch for any movement in his relaxed face.

You breathed again, and then bent over to listen. Nothing.

Now things began to get more grave than you’d taken them before.

You moved back to begin compressions again, this time pressing harder and deeper against his heart. You lifted a forearm to wipe the sweat gathering on your brow.

In your class, you were supposed to take turns, and rotate when one got tired so they could properly compress. But this wasn’t class.

Thorin was beneath the weight of your hands and his face was losing color.

“Come on… come on Thorin.”

You lost count after the 19th shove downwards, adrenaline kicking in and tears blurring the corners of your eyes as Thorin convulsed.

A warm hand settled on your shoulder above.

“Lass… he-” you smacked it away, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach like fire that you spat out.

“No! No he’s not, n-not yet.”

Again, you breathed into his airway, heavy and even, like you were supposed to. You were doing everything right. So why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t he breathing?

This was the quietest you had ever heard the company. Only birds and the sound of your exhausted, heaving breaths and choking sobs floating in the cool morning air.

You moved back to compressions, starting again, one, two, three. You were begging him, hysterically pleading his unresponsive body to kick start back up.

“Please Thorin. Come on.”

Now tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, warm and bothersome and blinding, falling over your hands and his clothes. Your arms ached at the now desperate shoving against his heart. You looked pathetic, like a widow begging for scraps of Thorin’s lifeline, something to get him through. The ground dug harshly into your knees, bruising and irritating them through the pants as they dully scraped with each movement.

Twenty two.

You were slowing down, growing weary and tired from the work. But it wasn’t good enough. At this point, with the silent stares, you knew that even the ever stubborn dwarves had lost hope for their leader some time ago. And you had too, but now you were already getting past the twenty-fifth press down. Curse the lot of them, just staring down at you with pity as you sniffed and wiped the snot and tears from your face. And curse the beauty of the morning sun peaking over the mountains, so regal and beautiful, and staring down at the morose show of a sad little human weeping to herself.

“Please… please, God you idiot. Running down there like that.”

A cry frogged its way out of the back of your throat, raspy and gurgling. You lift his head for the third time, sniffed in and then pushed your shaking breath as hard as you could manage, pulled away, then back down to press your quivering lips upon his cold ones and-

A breath. Soft and faint, just barely there, and it slightly cooled the tears on your face.

You froze, staring down at Thorin to see his eyes twitch just slightly underneath their lids. Another exhale fled him, his time much more apparent, and his brows furrowed as he stirred awake. The gasps and shouts from the company, scrambling over and circling him like they did before to help him up as he came to.

“He’s alive!”

“A miracle! Bless the Valor!”

You lifted yourself from the ground, onto your feet, but the shock of your attempts actually working, and exhaustion, just left you to stumble backwards onto your butt, crying harder than before, in relief and joy, nonetheless sobbing like your life depended on it. You gave into the fatigue of your muscles, the tiredness from the adrenaline, and exhaustion from your sobs, and fell onto your back, covering your eyes with a forearm with the other limply laying on the ground next to you. Bilbo kneeled next to you and laid his small hand over yours, watching as the king was pulled to his feet and grimacing at the noises of his jovial party celebrating with shouting and laughing.

“You did it,” The burglar said quietly, just enough for you to hear. It wasn’t just amazement in his voice, but reassurance. Something to ground you, like the warm squeeze of his hand.

You trembled, breaths coming in and out with a shiver.

Thorin’s dazed when you slowly sit up off the ground to look at him, swaying about and being jostled as each excited dwarf embraced and jumped around him, and an arm shouldered over Kìli’s to keep his balance.

“You were dead.” Dwalin’s normally stony, hard-set face, was graced with the most horrified look you’d ever seen in your life, eyes widened and brows twisted upwards in awe. That seemed to settle everyone down enough, and shake Thorin from the rest of his stupor. Once again, the world around you was blessed with silence that you hadn’t gotten a taste of since you arrived. It was short lived.

“Dead?” Thorin asked, incredulous and confused.

“Ye’ weren’t breathing lad!” Gloin chimed in, “we thought you were gone!”

The king’s eyes narrow, and shift between the members of his party, blinking away a head rush.

“How is that possible?” The second set of words he’d spoken since he screamed Azog’s name. Thorin’s voice was low and rasping. He slowly turned, following the astounded, wide-eyed stares from the surrounding dwarves, boring into you like you were some God.

You sniffled, wiping at your reddened, runny nose with the sleeve of your shirt.

He lifted a jeweled hand to graze over his heart, where you were reviving him, just staring at the sad sight of your tearful eyes.

“She saved ya’, Thorin,” Balin’s voice is serious and somber, breaking the silence, “Brough’ ya’ back from near death. Mahal knows how.”

Thorin’s eyes grew sharp, brows furrowing and piercing into you, where you pulled yourself to sit on your knees. His fingers tightened around the cloth where his hand laid, clutching at his chest.

“You,” he gruffed, “You did this?”

“I-I… I didn’t know if it was gonna work.” Your throat tightened and squeezed. Great, even more tears flowed down your face. Thorin’s eyes held the same glint that made your stomach twist with embarrassment and shame. The least he could do is offer a nod of gratitude towards you. Instead, he tore free from the group, ripping his arm away off his nephew’s shoulder and stumbling towards you like a drunken fool, with thudding footsteps.

Dwalin calls after him uselessly, just hanging back and letting the scene play out.

When he stops in front of you, eyes firey and broad chest heaving breaths in and out, standing a few inches over where you’re knelt, all you can do is try not to look away. You’re glad you hadn’t.

A boa-tight grip took hold of your heart and tightened when you saw his features soften, worry lines and crow's feet disappearing in the appearance of a small, incredulous smile. His softened eyes lined themselves with the hint of tears catching like jewels in the morning sun. Thorin dropped down to his knees to meet your height in a hug that you could never have prepared yourself for. You freeze for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Thorin, fearless, merciless, King Under the Mountain was hugging, no, embracing you, with the force of a thousand winds and strength of ten thousand men, because he was alive, thanks to you. And you hugged him back, pulling closer than you already were, and grasping at the back of his shirt and cried into his shoulder. The dwarves cheered in excitement behind Thorin. Through the yelling and praise, you can hear Thorin’s low voice next to your ear.

“I cannot repay this deed. Thank you.”

You pull away to see the kindest, warmest smile your eyes had ever been blessed to lay upon. It knocked the breath from your lungs. The corners of his eyes and the arch of his nose wrinkled upwards. It suited his face much more than the cold and stoic stares he was prone to.

“I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” Was all you could huff out.

“Yet I did. I misunderstood you greatly.” Thorin wiped a tear from the side of your face, “You make a member of this group. My life is indebted to you. And you,”

He peered over your shoulder at a wide-eyed Bilbo Baggins, standing just past your shoulder. You helped him stand from the ground, arm linked in his to meet the hobbit.

“You nearly got yourself killed,” he slipped free from your arm, and started toward Bilbo, just as he did you. “Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?”

Your face fell, akin to Bilbo’s solemn look. He stood there, taking the string of insults like a punching bag.

“That you had no place amongst us?”

And then he pulled the hobbit in just as he did you.

“I have never been so wrong, in all my life.”

Your heart reeled, and this time you smiled along with the rest of the company’s rejoices, watching the surprised grin spread across Bilbo’s face. Thorin pulled away.

“I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, no. I would have doubted me, too.”

A hand planted itself on your shoulder, and you turned to look at Gandalf and his sagely smile.

“You’ve made yourself quite the home in these dwarves' hearts, young lady,” he said. It was comedic, the way his silvery hair and beard dramatically blew in the wind, “Perhaps once this has settled, you stay with them. I think you’d find yourself more than welcome in Erebor’s Halls.”

You hummed in thought. The band of travelers were gathered on the edge of the plateau, looking out in the distance towards the peak of the Lonely Mountain, calling their name through the mist.

Thorin turned back to look at you over his shoulder with a gentle smile, and nodded his head to you in a silent thanks. The ghost of a blush spread across his face.

“I just might.”

(aaaaaah! what did you guys think??? :3 it feels wonderful to get a full fic out after so long, ive had this idea in my head for dayyys ugh 💔 please send me some requests loves, i'm in desperate need of some comfort fics! don't forget to reblog and like!! love yas! 🩷🌺🌸🌷💝💞)

tag list : @kumqu4t @tolkien-fantasy @blueberryrock @to-be-frank-i-dont-care @luna-xial @legolaslovely @fizzyxcustard @pistachiozombie @imaginexhobbit @beenovel

#thorin oakenshield #xreader #thorin oakenshield x reader #peter jackson #thorins company #the hobbit #thorin x reader #the hobbit x reader #angst #happy ending #yayyy #i need thorin #tolkien #modern! reader

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spinningalbinoturtle · 8 months

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Fellowship hobbies/relaxation activities

When the day of adventuring is done what they do at home.

Aragorn

Camping-duh

Long horse ride-also duh

Attending elvish concerts

Spending time with Arwen alone-they’re so often surrounded by courtiers and lords so Aragorn likes it when just the two of them can spend time together

Boromir

Once saw a headcanon about Boromir having a pet falcon and I love the idea that he would be into falconry

He likes to help train the young guards-like he did with Merry and Pippin

Go out for drinks with Faramir

Go for a ride around Pelenor

Legolas

Party boi like all of the Mirkwood elves

Likes to wax poetic walking around the woods

Sings to himself also

Archery practice

Works on braiding his or Gimli’s hair

Drinks a lot but not in a dysfunctional way just likes to party-so does Gimli so this works out

Wildlife watching-this includes following Aragorn around and commenting on him like he’s Steve Irwin

Gimli

Jewelry making-makes lots of stuff for Legolas

Kinda into sculpting but isn’t that great at it

Sorting his armor and weapons

Going for a walk through the glittering caves

Is really into crystals and likes to sit and talk to them-Legolas thinks this is weird

Get drunk with Legolas

Merry

Smoke that zah

Like his main hobby is smoking weed

Also likes to chill at the pub with Pippin and get involved in other people’s affairs

Chill with Pippin and cause minor trouble

They tried to make fireworks one time-this did not end well

Pippin

Pippin has a hard time just sitting and doing one thing

But he decompresses by hanging out with friends

Drinks and smoke with Merry, Frodo, and Sam

Loves to dance

Going with the movie he plays the banjo in a hobbit band-his dad thinks this is kinda unbecoming of the future thain but doesn’t get involved because it keeps Pippin occupied

Sam

Gardening is his job but he also loves it and continues to do so after he is no longer officially the Baggins gardener because he likes to

Cooking-especially with Frodo

Wood carving-he likes to make pipes for his friends

Going for walks in the woods with Frodo

Writing poetry but he is very shy about who he shares it with

Likes to sketch, mostly sketches the garden or Frodo sleeping

Listening to Frodo read Elvish poetry

Also is an avid reader

Frodo

Like Sam loves to read, they both always have a book they’re in the middle of

Knitting, crochet, embroidery, sewing any kind of fiber art really he likes to have something to do with his hands

Plays the harp, used to play the accordion but it was a lot harder with only nine fingers so he switched to the harp-he learned it in Rivendell as music therapy

Loved to go for walks with Bilbo and then Sam when he was younger. After the quest this is a bit harder for him but he does have a pretty durable wheelchair made by Gimli which he wills go on strolls with Sam in

Gandalf

Smoking

Bitching with Bilbo or Elrond

Hanging out with Radagast and his animals

Rides on Shadowfax

#lotr #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #aragorn #merry brandybuck #boromir #legolas #legolas x gimli #gimli #pippin took #samfro #gandalf

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thatfanficstuff · 10 days

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Color My World - Haldir (LOTR)

Pairing: Haldir x soulmate!reader

warnings: nothing beyond canon

The forest of Lothlorien loomed before a weary band of travelers, known to some as the Fellowship. Their steps were heavy with exhaustion, a mantle of grief weighing them down. Their companion, the wizard Gandalf, had fallen mere hours before. But they didn’t have time to stop, to allow their hearts a moment to heal. The orcs would come and the group needed to be safely within the depths of the forest before they did.

You walked beside Frodo in the middle of the group, your eyes darting between taking in the beauty around you and keeping an eye on your companions. Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy above you, bathing the world in golden rays. Even the bark of the trees glittered faintly with hints of gold. You could only imagine how stunning it would be if you had already met your soulmate. All the muted, faded colors you saw would be bright and vivid. You never wished for it more than at moments like this.

“Can you feel the trees watching us?” Frodo’s voice, barely above a murmur, broke the fragile silence.

You placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “There have been eyes on us since we stepped foot in the forest, little hobbit.”

He looked up in surprise and you squeezed gently as you gave him a soft smile. “No worries. All be fine.”

“Thank you for being here,” he said, his tone hovering between gratitude and fear.

“We all have our purposes in this life, Frodo Baggins. Mine is make sure you complete yours.”

As you continued, you ignored Gimli’s talk of elven sorceresses and enchantments. You were too focused on the force gathering along the edges of your senses. The elves had sent a welcoming party. Of a sort.

Suddenly and almost silently, the Fellowship was surrounded. Elves with arrows drawn in you and your companions faces. With an arched brow you stepped in front of Frodo and pushed the arrow aside that was nearly brushing your nose. Ridiculous. Arrows did much more damage if they had a little room to move.

“The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark,” a rich voice said as the most beautiful man you’d ever seen addressed Aragorn. The elf observed your group, taking each of you in. When his gaze met your own, he lingered ever so slightly before turning back to the king. “Why do you enter the woods of the Lady of Light?”

The quiet words stoked something deep inside you, a yearning that had followed you your whole life. A cascade of vibrant color burst forth with the marchwarden at its center. Greens deepened into a multitude of shades. The golden undertones of the trees shimmered with new life.

As he and Aragorn spoke, every syllable from his lips only brought more beauty to your world. And every word bound your soul more tightly to his. You wove your fingers together, a poor effort at self-restraint as you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze from his profile. You’d heard so many stories of this elf and now, seeing him in person, he was everything you could ever desire in a mate. And he was far too important for someone like you. Finally, you tore your eyes away as he turned to lead the Fellowship deeper into the trees.

You weren’t certain how far you walked or how many stairs you climbed before you were greeted by the ethereal presence of Celeborn and Galadriel. You half listened to the conversation about the fate of your wizard as your attention kept flicking over to Haldir who stood to the side looking straight ahead. It felt odd that you were so connected to him and he didn’t even know you existed. That he knew nothing of your bond. It was for the best, you knew that, but it didn’t make your heart hurt any less.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned your head to find Galadriel looking at you though she spoke to the Fellowship as a whole. You bit back a gasp as you heard her lyrical voice in your head. “Within these woods, bonds deeper than the roots of the mallorn trees are forged. You have felt the stirring of such a bond, child of the outside world. Your connection with Haldir is stronger than you know. An intertwining of souls, a sharing of strengths. Together, you harbor magic that will aid you on your quest.”

“Magic?” you thought back.

Rather than answering, the corner of her lips curled into a knowing smile and she gave you a small nod. “When you need it the most, it will be there,” she said aloud. Your companions frowned in confusion but you ignored their questions as Haldir showed all of you to where you would be spending the evening.

You managed to leave the elves without Haldir finding out who you were to him. Your friends found it odd that you refused to speak louder than a whisper until you were well on your way down the river but you simply waved off their questions. It was better this way. No matter how utterly alone you suddenly felt.

Days turned into weeks. Frodo and Sam had gone off on their own. Boromir had fallen. Gandalf had returned. And now you stood with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli at Helm’s Deep alongside an army made up mostly of old men and boys. Hope was fleeting that most of you would make it through the night. Gandalf had told you to look for him at the dawn but that was many hours away.

You stood on the wall watching a storm roll in while the others prepared themselves for battle. You’d taken care of that hours ago. A horn blasting drew your attention. Elven archers marched toward the keep. You grinned, feeling hope for the first time in days. The smile fell as you saw who was leading them. Haldir. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It was too dangerous. He was supposed to be safe in Lothlorien.

You watched Aragorn greet him, Legolas by his side. Haldir glanced up when they finished, his gaze finding yours. He studied your face for a moment before nodding a greeting. You nodded in return then slipped away into the crowd, making sure the rabble were as prepared as possible for the coming attack.

While Aragorn moved through the ranks of elves on the wall, you stood with Legolas and Gimli. The hordes of orcs and Uruk-hai approached, banging weapons on the ground as they came. You rested a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder trying to calm him as he bounced around. “Steady on,” you told him as you prepared your bow.

And then they came in a flood of anger and teeth. Chaos reigned around you as you slashed and dodged. Rain fell in heavy drops as lightning flashed in the sky and thunder roared. You focused solely on the opponents around you until King Theoden called for a retreat to the inner walls. Aragorn grabbed your arm and pulled you along as he yelled for the men to fall back. When he turned and yelled Haldir’s name, you turned with him.

Haldir acknowledged the order a breath before he was surrounded by iron and hate. A blade stabbed toward him even as he cut the wielder down.

Heat surged through your veins as fear swamped you. You unleashed your fury with a cry torn from the very depths of your soul. The world seemed to slow as a shimmering shield surrounded your soulmate, deflecting the blade that would have run him through. His eyes found yours, wide with astonishment.

You ignored Aragorn calling your name as newfound strength flowed through you. You weaved through the melee, each step bringing you closer to Haldir’s side. Finally, you reached him and helped dispatch the orcs that swarmed him. When there was an opening for you to move, you grabbed the breastplate of his armor and pulled him toward the stairs. “Move, Marchwarden.”

The battle was over after a last minute save from the Rohirrim and the Ents. As soon as you had a moment to breathe a breath you weren’t convinced would be your last, Haldir grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side where you could have some semblance of privacy.

His hands cradled your face as his thumbs traced your cheeks. He looked you over with wonder.

“Why did you say nothing when first we met?” he asked. “Why keep your connection to me hidden?”

You grasped his wrists in your hands. “If the bond was complete, formed on both sides, what would happen to you if I died on this quest?”

The silence stretched as he studied you. “A partial truth at best, hiril vuin.” (my lady)

You sighed and looked away from him, unable to meet his eye as you confessed. “I did not wish to be a burden upon you. I feared the revelation would be a disappointment.”

He ran his thumbs along your skin again to bring your attention back to him. “You are the furthest cry from a disappointment. Your courage, your strength, your heart…they are gifts more precious than the rarest jewels of my people.”

You searched for any signs of deception from him. Finding none, a smile crossed your face. He mirrored it before leaning forward to press his lips to yours. It took only a moment before you returned the gesture with equal fervor.

For a moment, you could forget about your quest. Forget about the death that surrounded you. Because here in the midst of so many endings, was your beginning and you intended to hold onto it with all of your heart.

#haldir x reader #haldir fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #haldir x soulmate #lotr soulmate au #soulmate au

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lordoftherazzles · 7 months

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🍃 Fuck Thy Neighbor ‣ (7/7) ‣ Bilbo and Thorin have a past, one that spans no longer than one wild evening which resulted in far too many drinks, a 24-hour chapel, and not knowing the other’s last name. They both thought they could simply ‘deal with it later’. When ‘later’ finally arrives, they must learn how to co-exist now as neighbors, but also as accidental newlyweds. (accidental marriage/neighbors au, explicit, 31k)

🍃 Golden Hearts Bleed Faster ‣ (1/9) ‣ Bilbo Baggins, Prince of the Shire, has been left with a kingdom on his back and a ring in his hand after the unexpected death of his parents. Bodyguard Thorin Oakenshield has been brought in to see to the prince’s safety, and do a little investigating of his own on the matter in hopes of coming face to face with the one who turned his mountain, and his life, upside down some years prior. (modern royalty/bodyguard au, teen+, 3.5k)

🍃 Kurdu 'abadaz ‣ (6/10) ‣ It's said the Arkenstone is the literal heart of the mountain with a pulse of its own, ensuring life can sustain within it, but it's also been said that the Arkenstone can drive any king mad. Not every curse of madness is the same. When Thorin Oakenshield is plucked from his eternal slumber by some miracle of the stone, he must work with Bilbo to navigate this new world and what it means for the both of them. (post-botfa/supernatural au, explicit, 34k)

🍃 May Your Forge Burn Bright ‣ (18/18) ‣ Thorin labors as a blacksmith within the world of men to support his family and the other displaced dwarves of Erebor. Change comes to his monotonous routine when the smithy he works in unexpectedly comes under a hobbit’s management. (pre-quest au, explicit, 109k)

🍃 (Take Me Back To) The Night We Met ‣ (6/6) ‣ On a night when The Green Dragon Inn is out of vacancy, Bilbo Baggins opens up his home to a trio of displaced and rain-soaked dwarves. The two children of the bunch are happy to have a temporary home away from the rain, but their uncle, Thorin, sees it only as a debt to be repaid. (pre-quest au, gen, 25k)

🍃 They Stole My Heart (Along With the Rest of Him) ‣ (6/6) ‣ After departing less than amicably, Thorin and Bilbo find themselves pining over memories and questions of ‘what if’ without any courage to seek out the answers themselves. So their friends and family step in to help…some more forcefully than others. (post-botfa/kidnap au, teen and up, 21k collab with @sunnyrosewritesstuff)

🍃 When Darkness Shines Brightest ‣ (10/10) ‣ As the Master of Shadows and King Under the Mountain, Thorin lives burdened with guilt and loss, for Erebor is dark, dead, and on the brink. That is until he finds a possible solution to save his people in a being that radiates light and life. But is it truly possible to save them all from the shadows he created? (hades&persephone/TNBC au, teen and up, 58k)

🍃 Where The Shadows Lie ‣ (8/???) ‣ Bag End Bed & Breakfast collects more dust than customers these days. An unexpected visit lands a company of royal vampires into Bilbo’s care. As he learns to coexist, he discovers secrets to his lineage. (vampire/slayer au, explicit, 59k)

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writingthroughthenight · 4 days

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Bilbo @ Gandalf: No I do not want to join your super secret boy band

Alo Bilbo: joins the super secret boy band

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #Gandalf #Tolkien #incorrect hobbit quotes #bookish #booklr #quotes #the hobbit bilbo #iron man #tony stark #iron man 2 #Nick fury #mcu

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bitchysoulwasteland · 1 year

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"Queen?"

Thranduil X Reader

Word count: 1,111 (probably the longest yet. ;)

(A/N: all gifts in this fic do not belong to me but belong to their respective creators/owners. Do not reblog or repost any of my work. Enjoy)

You had your music playing through your earphones as you jogged though the tunnels and passageways of Mirkwood's palace. Many elves through you strange with your taste for things. Especially your clothes. You, the new queen of Mirkwood. Many wondered what the king saw in you. But you were their queen and Thranduil was their king. No one could question you both without good enough reason. If any. Everyone knew that if they uttered a bad word about you, they would be sent immediately to the cells. That was if Thranduil was feeling particularly merciful.

You passed by Tariel who gave you a smile which you gladly returned. Thankfully, she was one of the more calm-natured elves and as she's a Captain Of The Guard, you had worked and learnt a lot from her throughout your time in Mirkwood.

Being considered a 'halfling' wasn't easy, especially since your mother was an elf but your father had been a human. You had grown up on Earth, gone to school as well as high school there, had moved after your father died and the bullying became constant. So, to stop her child being put through any more pain, she decided it was best to move you both to her home. Middle Earth. Of course, that hadn't been easy. The side glances you had been given by the majority of those native to Middle Earth had been hard to cope with at first. And of course, to most elves you went against everything their culture included. Although you had pointed ears, you always wore some type of 70s or 80s band t-shirt. Your (h/c) hair was cut (h/l). You never wore a skirt or any feminine wear of any kind, instead opting for jeans and a leather jacket. And, to top it all of, you didn't listen to their music. You listened to classic rock. But, what most found the strangest of all, you always listened to a band called "Queen".

Some were repulsed by all of this. But to your surprise, their king Thranduil found all of this intriguing.

You had met the king by chance when you were travelling with Thorin and the company and were found in Mirkwood. They too thought you strange, but warmed to you quickly and you soon became closest with Fili and Kili. Kili even said you were like the 'sister he never had'. Thorin, of course became extremely overprotective of you. Everyday since then, you had thanked Gods that you had met Gandalf The Grey and that he had introduced you to your second family. Unknown to you, you had already caught Thranduil's eye then.

During the Battle Of Five Armies, you met again whilst you were fighting an Orc in Dale. You had been separated from he company and decided to put your sword skills into practice. Although, you had underestimated the Orc you were up against.

The fight seemed endless, though it had only been going on for a good five minutes. You swung your sword, nearly missing the Orc as you tried to dodge its attack. You were knocked to the floor and winded as the side of its blade struck your shoulder, narrowly missing your heart and other vital organs. The Orc raised its blade as you desperately fought to regain your breath. You shouldn't die like this. It was a pointless, waste of a good death. You closed your eyes as blade started its decline to finish you off. Then, it stopped.

You opened your eyes as the blade clattered to the floor alongside the Orc that would have killed you. Should have killed you. But what you saw shocked you more than the blow that threw you to the floor in the first place. Before you stood the king of Mirkwood, bloody sword in one hand whilst the other reached out as an offer to help you up. Grateful for the king's kindness, you accepted his help and got up off of the floor.

"You didn't have to help me up, your majesty. I could've coped myself."

"I know, meleth. But I was not going to leave you there on the snow to freeze."

"Thank you, your highness." You attempted a small curtsey.

"Please, there is no need for formality. Call me Thranduil." He smiled at you.

"Thank you, Thranduil." You would've added more but there were more Orcs coming. Without another word, you ran into the opposite direction to the king of Mirkwood, sword already unsheathed. Thranduil let out a rare smile as he watched you defend both the elves of his kingdom and those who had chosen to protect their own.

That was almost sixty years ago now.

You would be lying if you said you didn't think of the Dwarves, Gandalf, Bilbo and the adventure in general when your mind wasn't overrun by other things.

Your converse made no noise on the palace floor as you walked to the throne room, having changed after your run. You knew that Thranduil would be there after he wasn't in the library when you checked. You herd voices coming from the room as you opened the door. It was impossible. No. Just improbable. Gandalf was standing there alongside a few of what looked like Hobbits.

"That ring has not been seen for years. How could you even possibly think that an elf would have it?" Thranduil questioned as your curiosity got the better of you. You were tired of standing at the door, so you walked over to where the group was to make yourself known.

"The last time I saw that ring, it was in the pocket of a Hobbit." You said as everyone turned to look at you. Thranduil stood, a glint of amusement in his eye as he watched your interaction with the wizard.

"(Y/N). I did not know that you would grace us with your presence." Gandalf said with a smirk, sarcasm as an undertone of his sentence. Of course he knew you would be here. You were never one for keeping yourself out of trouble. Especially when that trouble was linked to a wizard. Even more so when that trouble was linked to either himself or Radagast The Brown.

You turned to leave but before you opened the door, you added. "Keep yourselves out of trouble, young Hobbits. You too, Gandalf The Grey. I don't want to have to go with Lady Galdriel to save you from the brink of death again. Quite literally." With that, you walked out of the room.

"Will we ever see her again?" Frodo asked to witch Gandalf responded.

"I will be surprised if we do not."

#thranduil #Thranduil x reader #The Hobbit #Gandalf The Grey #lord of the rings

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extasiswings · 11 months

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Truly cannot express enough for all y’all who jumped on this train in S5 how absolutely miserable and gutting Survivors was on a first watch even with the will reveal. BT and EA (actually established LIs) ending the season happy and lovey-dovey, no recovery arc, Tim’s bs interviews about Buddie being like Band of Brothers and no different from Hen and Chim and how Eddie would be totally fine about being shot because he’d been to war…I was there, Gandalf. This? This is fine.

#chapel for ts

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horseshoehate · 1 year

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Into the House of Elrond Gandalf Goes

a/n: This is part 3 of my Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Phish fan fiction. It's getting a lot more serious in tone haha

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Gandalf steps out into the soft grass leading away from the concert venue. He hears cheers as the band comes out. He quickens his pace, not particularly happy to have to miss a good show, but nonetheless unwilling to risk the corrupting influence of Evil Trey's awesome licks.

Gandalf walked past his own van, a 1991 Toyota Previa, sitting in the parking lot, knowing he could not drive it as it would draw too many unwanted eyes. He begrudgingly sold it on the lot to a strung out hippie for a week's worth of grilled cheese sandwich rations. Gandalf slipped out on foot unnoticed by the sentries of Voldemort that now patrolled the lots at the behest of Evil Trey, selling nitrous to anyone who was desperate enough for it and causing no small amount of trouble at the drop of a hat. "No doubt the influence of Sauron caused that one!" scoffed Gandalf.

So Gandalf journeyed over many days and lands far and wide, coming ever closer to Rivendell, the land of Elrond the Wise. Gandalf knew that Sauron would stop at nothing short of total domination of Middle Earth. Wise as he was, he still could not see all ends, and needed the help of the very best counsel he could conjure.

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As he arrived in Rivendell, Gandalf was welcomed with warm smiles, but he could see behind the mask of friendliness, there was a certain warriness. It was as if the elves already knew why he had come, or at least that it was no pleasure visit to the land of Elrond.

"Come elf-friend Gandalf, we have a seat prepared for you at our feast." a welcoming elf said, adding "Elrond will meet you when he is ready to do so."

"Very well, though this matter is urgent and cannot wait much longer," Gandalf said "I'm afraid that this matter is of the upmost importance. It concerns the black keeps of the Dark Lord."

A look of of terror flashed in the elf's eyes, but was soon replaced once more by a friendly smile. "Very well," the elf said, "right this way."

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As Gandalf sat at the table, finishing the last of his elven wine. He had eaten enough to feed 3 elves at least, having had naught but old grilled cheeses from the lot for the last 10 days.

Hearing quiet footsteps behind him, Gandalf stood from his chair and bowed to the esteemed figure of Elrond, the wisest amongst the elves, whom even the greatest wizards seek the counsel of.

"Gandalf," Elrond said with a smile, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Elrond my dear friend, I'm afraid that i am not here at my own leisure." Gandalf said with a worried frown.

"What troubles you, friend Gandalf?"

"It is Trey Anastasio. I believe that he is under the influence of the Dark Lord Sauron himself." Gandalf said heavily.

Elrond turned his head dismissively, "You know I left this life behind me after the 2.0 years. How do I know that the Phish community has not just soured on its own once more, like milk left to spoil?"

"This is not that. Those were dark times, yes, but these stand to be far worse than even Coventry." Gandalf said forebodingly. Gandalf went on to explain everything that had happened.

"Very well, Gandalf. What would you have me do?"

"I need your help friend, advice. What power do we now possess that can break the hold on Evil Trey's mind and break him from his mental prison which he now resides?" Gandalf asked.

Elrond thought for a few moments before turning to Gandalf, "I may have an idea," he said slowly. "But it will require some… subterfuge."

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Elrond started with a serious look in his eyes, "On Durin's Day, the last day of your Autumn, we elves celebrate our alliance with the Dwarves of the north."

Gandalf interjected, "I hardly see how tha-"

"If you'll allow me to continue," Elrond said sharply, raising an eyebrow, "each year we host a festival of bands from across Middle Earth in a celebration of cultural diversity. It would not be unconventional for us to book a musical act from the world of men."

"I see," Gandalf said, thinking it over, "and they won't find this suspicous?"

"I would think that playing this far in the heart of elven territory too bold for even Sauron, but they may credulous enough to think that their evil jams will turn the hearts of elves. It may seem a tempting victory waiting to be snatched from us before the war has even begun." Elrond considered.

"Very well then," Gandalf said slowly, "it is decided. Phish will headline Durin'sFest. It is not without risk, but I trust your judgement, Elrond. We must act quickly if we are to save Trey."

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As the day of Durin'sFest neared, preperations underwent for the festival. Already, the campgrounds were starting to fill and stages being built. Countless food stands were set up, selling anything from Lembas bread bratwursts to potato and rabbit stew.

As the day drew nearer, Gandalf grew restless. He thought of his tour buddies and wondered then how many of the had already been lost, either succumbed to the darkness of Phish's new evil jams, or been killed at the hands of Lord Voldemort's nitrous mafia. He wept for his friends, but held out hope that he could, at the very least, save his favorite band from the clutches of Sauron.

#phish #fanfiction #fan fiction #lord of the rings #lotr #gandalf #trey anastasio #harry potter #voldemort #elrond #middle earth #rivedell #sauron #music #jam band

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