#gondor wasn't there

[morethantheycansay]

Some of you weren't there when the Westfold fell and it shows.

#gondor #lord of the rings #lotr #the two towers #rohan #tolkien #theoden #spoiler alert: it was gondor #gondor wasn't there

[anghraine]

kei-yuki replied to this post:

Do you think this can be related with his reaction to Aragorn / Thorongil?

Oh, for sure. Denethor was never going to, uh, appreciate Aragorn's plans to displace him, but I think it might be all the more bitter because Aragorn would be the first person he's ever met who is really like him or could get what it's like, but the circumstances make him a threat and Ecthelion's preference makes him more of one.

I mean, of course Aragorn is even "stranger" than the Stewards but... His "royalty", his charisma, the fact that he was rised by Elves... I don't know but perhaps he learned to navigate all these weird Numenorean gifts in a right way when others can only learn by trial an error.

I don't 100% agree that Aragorn is stranger than they are as a rule. He has a capacity for an even more remote strangeness—on the level of a Valinorean Noldo iirc—but he can also pass himself off as a normal guy in a way I don't think they can. Even when he's not concealing his identity, he tends to blend in with the norms of the people around him, and he doesn't generally use his most 'eldritch' abilities or his force of will as obtrusively as Denethor and Faramir do, except in very critical situations.

Denethor and Faramir are neither as strange as Aragorn can be nor as normal as Aragorn can be—just about any time they show up, we discover some new weird thing about them or they say something that's just kind of bizarre. They can exercise their wills to do especially remarkable things, or they can dial it down to their sort of baseline, but they don't seem to have the off switch that Aragorn does.

But I think that actually fits really well with the idea that they and especially Denethor have had to figure out a lot on their own. Aragorn was raised and educated by the immortal twin of the person responsible for all of their abilities. Elrond knew what was coming and I'm sure prepared Aragorn as well as anyone could have. Then Aragorn spent years as a Ranger and hunter, he lived among lots of different people under different identities, he had to be able to come across as a normal (if tall!) guy. So it makes a lot of sense to me that he would have both more capacity to conceal his abilities and his basic strangeness, and more inclination to do so.

(I think it's also possible that Aragorn's abilities overlap heavily with Denethor's but are not quite identical. Denethor, of course, can't heal, and whatever Aragorn's mental powers, he didn't manage to conceal his true identity from Denethor. So maybe that's also at play in how thoroughly unimpressed Denethor is by Thorongil.)

#his dynamic with faramir is obviously also complex and messy but despite everything #denethor entrusts faramir with a wide range of critical tasks in the defense of gondor—he values him pragmatically #as well as loving him in a complex messy way #despite the two of them butting heads when it comes to particulars #neither of which are true wrt aragorn #idk as difficult as the relationship with faramir is #there's been someone Like Him in his life for 36 years and while that's painful in its own way—he wasn't alone in it #so faramir's death would be incredibly isolating in yet another way #like. this is not needed to explain his devastation or him finally snapping under the pressure #but it does layer on the awfulness #kei yuki #respuestas #legendarium blogging #húrinionath #aragorn #denethor #long post #anghraine's headcanon #faramir

[voidsentprinces]

Goooing to have to be a little more specific cause I mention like four separate things...like

Is there a club for getting all jobs to 90 (again?)? Think they call it No-Lifeing FFXIV Is there a club for procrastinating? I think they call it being an artist or a writer. Is there a club for avoiding getting a life partner in real life? ...I mean speaking from experience I think they refer to me as just a "Single (Passing) White Male" cause you know society like its cookie cutter molds. Is there a club for doing any of those other things while trying to keep my head down in the hellscape that is an American Election Year? I honestly don't know, it just seems like the sane thing to do.

#{ technically half hispanic but you couldn't tell by me taking off my shirt } #{ the neighbors think Gondor is calling for aid } #{ What do you mean TECHNICALLY!? } #{ I mean...people are weird. I wasn't raised around my fathers' side of the family } #{ Most of my tio and tias died of cancer before I was 10 } #{ and my cousins went no contact after my parents got a divorce when I was 5 } #{ And so people are just like: Well then you're not a REAL Hispanic person are you? } #{ So whatever } #{ this kind of treatment prepared me for how ace people are treating by certain parts of the LGBT community }

[sweetearthandnorthernsky]

GUESS WHO FINALLY GOT SAE TO LVL 135!!!

#is this going to cause problems during the quest chain? sure #but G O N D O R T I M E #literally i am VIBRATING with excitement #esp since i wasn't sure it was gonna let me in being too low leveled BUT it worked #hmmm need a gondor spoilers tag #will think that one thru later

[emilybeemartin]

I've been drawing just, so many dudes, so here are some Ladies of Gondor and Shieldmaidens of Rohan! Sometimes you just have to design a bunch of ren-faire gowns and accessories, you know?

First, Eowyn, the best excuse to draw split skirts. Her star-embroidered gloves were a gift from Faramir, but it wasn't until I drew Finduilas below that I realized her pendant was probably also a gift from him as well.

Lothiriel! I referenced her pose from my fave, @adorkastock. I don't have many headcanons about Lothiriel but I imagine she's the only person who can make Eomer trip over his own feet.

Theodwyn, Eowyn and Eomer's mother! Maybe she was born with a clubbed foot. We don't know. Tolkien only tells us she was pretty. A big thank-you to @hurricanek8art, @fruitbatvampiresociety, and @arrowpunk for giving me great feedback on her cane, including wrapping the base in leather and adding a skirt hike to her belt to keep her hem up.

Elfhild, Theoden's wife and Theodred's mother! No big headcanons here, either, but I think she'd bring Theoden a lot of joy and purpose and thus a lot of grief and aimlessness when she died.

And finally, Finduilas. There's the pendant Faramir gave Eowyn, and oh, her cape clasp looks familiar.

Tolkien gives us a few extra sentences about Finduilas, and so we know she had a difficult time in Minas Tirith. He writes that she was gentle and beautiful, but that "she withered in the guarded city... the shadow in the east filled her with horror, and she turned her eyes ever south to the sea that she missed." He also says Denethor "loved her, in his fashion," which I read as, "guy couldn't healthily express an emotion if it was written out for him." I imagine Finduilas was lonely and isolated, and, in pregnancy, afraid of the world she was bringing her babies into.

But maybe things weren't all bad! Maybe before she got too ill, she brought her boys to the seashore, where Faramir would babble and splash and Boromir would run all over creation and bring her treasures.

#lord of the rings #lotr #women of lord of the rings #fantasy fashion #gondor #rohan #eowyn #lothiriel #theodwyn #elfhild #finduilas #boromir #faramir

[spockandawe]

Lord of the rings! Again! I'm fond enough of this story, but what this project definitely taught me in contrast to things like svsss is that I have I have basically no patience for repeating myself unless the thing I'm repeating was a passion project from the start, haha. But after I finished my first take last year as a gift for my cousin's wedding, like a fool, I told my brother he could pick what handmade gift he wanted for his wedding and he said... lord of the rings.

I wasn't going to give my brother a less extravagant version than I gave my cousin, so I went all in! And I really think i nailed it with the edge art. Watercolors are classic, but I was the type of sketchbook kid who stuck to pencils and pens. It was originally going to have watercolors also, until the lines turned out this detailed and I started worrying about making things muddy. And honestly, doing lines like this where you don't miss the watercolors worked out REALLY well, and I'm going to keep that strategy in mind going forward. I want to get good at watercolors, but I also know it's valuable to play to your own strengths!

I'm really pleased with how the elements of this came together! The last book was black and blue, so flipping the palette to reds was a lot of fun, and I really enjoy these endpapers. Leather endbands against a leather spine remain one of my fave effects. And as painstaking as drawing the siege of gondor was, and as hard as it was to scrape together references for a spread that 1) showed the cool stuff and 2) had the aspect ratio to cover an 18"x4" surface area, it was really rewarding to see it all come together. I'm really delighted with how this turned out! Two last indulgent pictures to show off the art without those covers getting in the way:

#crafts #bookbinding #lord of the rings #edge painting #or adjacent #long post

[torchwood-99]

"But I do not offer you my pity. For you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten; and you are a lady beautiful, I deem, beyond even the words of the Elven-tongue to tell. And I love you. Once I pitied your sorrow. But now, were you sorrowless, without fear or any lack, were you the blissful Queen of Gondor, still I would love you. Éowyn, do you not love me?’"

There's an interpretation in the fandom that Eowyn's decision to go to war, her desire to fight for her people, her qualities that might stereotypically be described as "masculine", were a fault in her, a result of her depression and her general misguided thinking, and Faramir's love "cured" her of that, and in being cured she became appropriately "feminine" once more. Some people think approvingly of the message in this reading, others disapprovingly, but I don't think that message is there at all, when you read this quote.

Look at the reasons Faramir gives for loving Eowyn. "you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten"

He loves her for her valour. And far from Eowyn's desire for renown being something he has to school her out of, the fact she achieved it is something he celebrates for her.

Faramir recognises Eowyn was depressed, he recognises her sorrow and how that drove her to desire death, but he doesn't see her as some misguided, deluded woman who needed reminding of her proper place in life.

Their romance isn't based on Eowyn being some broken thing in need of fixing, for Faramir would love her just as much even if she was perfectly content. Before all else, he respects her. Just the way she is. He respects her courage. He respects her so-called "masculine" attributes, and celebrates them.

Eowyn's valour, her courage, her victory in battle, were all to be celebrated. The people who tried to force into something more "acceptably" feminine were proven wrong, doubly so because when she had her great victory, she did so proudly proclaiming her sex, the very thing the people around used to confine her. Eowyn wasn't wrong for behaving against her womanly nature, those who sought to confine her were wrong for thinking fighting for your people in battle and being a woman are inherently at odds.

The only thing Eowyn was wrong about, the only thing she needed to be corrected on was her belief that her life had no value outside of losing it in battle. Eowyn didn't need to change, she needed to understand her own self-worth.

And yes, Eowyn goes from basing her identity from being a warrior to that of a healer, but the world around her is changing from a world at war to a world at peace. And it's a world at peace because of the crucial contribution she made in battle.

"And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her"

Eowyn's happy ending doesn't come from her changing who she is, just her understanding of who she is. She's still Eowyn. Still a "Lady high and valiant", still ready to fight for her people if war came again, but now she's Eowyn who values herself, and her life, and life in general.

#Lotr #Lord of the Rings #Eowyn #Faramir #Farawyn

[rohirric-hunter]

I'm seeing That One Post go around again so this is your periodic reminder that No, Denethor did not know about the political situation in the Shire or Pippin's status as the son of the Thain or what that meant. Middle-earth does not have phones, email, or internet. There is no contact between the Shire and any of the human civilizations east of the Misty Mountains. Gondor thought hobbits were a myth until one of them literally showed up in their capital city. The first written records of Hobbits were in TA 1050 and exclusively in Eriador -- while they lived in Rhovanion before then no written records of it exist and they lived far north of where Gondor ever considered their territory. The Shire wasn't founded until TA 1601, when Gondor was recovering from the Kinstrife and had other things to worry about. And the title of Thain was invented in TA 1979, when Gondor stopped having any regular contact at all with anyone in Eriador on account of Arnor not existing anymore. Any information Gondor had about hobbits came from folktales shared by the Rohirrim, which were incomplete and likely inaccurate. While it would be reasonable for Denethor to do a bit of research when Faramir and Boromir told him about their dream, his only real avenue to finding this information would be the Palantir, finding information about something you know nothing about in a Palantir is actually quite challenging. You can't just say, "Show me information about Halflings," you have to know what you're looking for. Also, Sauron directly controlled everything Denethor saw in the Palantir and would never have let him see a culture of happy and carefree people benefiting, however distantly, from Gondor's war against Mordor. Speaking of which, Denethor was also at war and most likely would have prioritized using the Palantir for that. The people of Gondor's guess that Pippin was a prince was just that, a lucky guess. They had literally no way of knowing. Pippin told people that his father was a farmer and Gandalf built Pippin up on his own accomplishments. Nobody knew anything about Thains or sons of Thains and Denethor wasn't playing some deranged game where he pretended to not know who Pippin was. He just didn't.

#lotr #i really do think that modern readers have a lot of difficulty with the idea #of people not knowing anything about cultures that are very far away #they just. cant conceive of a world without internet #it bothers me a lot

[juniperjane]

Boromir wasn't a selfish man. Everything he did was for the benefit of others.

Was he a perfect man? No, he fell into temptation, but every time he felt the pull he was brought back to his senses.

His heart had stretched beyond Gondor and it's people to the halflings. And had he more time in life, and the distance between himself and the ring, the fellowship as a whole.

His last actions were to protect the hobbits he loved and his final words were selfless, pledging his fielty to another in the manner of laying down his life, to be under the direction of his brother, his captain, his king. His sadness wasn't just that he felt he had failed his people, but that he couldn't go on to fulfill his true purpose in following the one who was meant to be king.

#boromir #lotr #this is an older draft i had #i had just finished fotr late last year and had feelings #they're a very basic formation of my feelings for boromir #but there they are

[miriel-elenna]

Dean didn't expect to make it three years.

Hell, let's be honest, after all the bullshit of his entire life, he hadn't expected to make it to the wedding, a wedding, any wedding. He'd given that dream up years ago, because no one in their right mind would look at Dean Winchester and think, yeap, that's they guy I'm gonna marry.

Lucky for Dean, Cas was crazy. Crazy like a fox. Which worked just fine since Dean wasn't exactly on his rocker either.

Dean was determined to not take any day, any second, for granted. He had plans. Schemes, even. He was gonna rock Cas' socks clear off.

It all started before the sun came up. For once, Dean was the early riser, too excited for the day to sleep too much. The February morning dawned clear and cold as Dean snuck around their house, quietly pulling things out and setting things up.

The breakfast nook was set up just so, the sunny yellow table cloth, flowers in a vase, and a new, leather-bound journal carefully placed beside Cas' plate, a honeycomb decorated pen clipped to the cover.

By the time Cas rolled out of bed, the coffee was already made and the bacon had just finished cooking. Dean poured batter into the Death Star waffle maker, one of their awesomer wedding gifts, as the floorboards creaked, announcing Cas' entrance into the kitchen.

Dean turned around, Cas' coffee mug in his hand, the special one from Jack that only a parent could love. Cas' eyes were still sleepy but soft as he looked at what was waiting for him.

Dean grinned and held out the steaming mug, "Happy anniversary, sweetheart."

Cas smiled and took the mug, taking a slow sip and then setting it down on the counter behind Dean. He reached up and placed his hand on Dean's cheek, drawing Dean into a slow, tender kiss.

"Good morning, my love," Cas said, voice still rough with sleep. They kissed again, impossible to stop at only one. "Happy anniversary," Cas murmured as two kisses turned into three, four, five.

The waffle maker beeped, time and space re-asserting themselves.

"Don't want the waffles to burn," Dean mumbled, before diving in to steal one last kiss from Cas' smiling lips.

Cas hummed and leaned back before Dean could steal another. "Wouldn't want to waste all of your hard work." He grabbed the plate of bacon off of the counter and took it to the table.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled with a grin. "Just save me some of the bacon this time, okay?"

"I make no promises," Cas said around the crunch of smoky, salty, meaty perfection.

"Love you too, asshole," Dean laughed, the sound of Cas' chuckle music in his ears.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, Dean and Cas trading surprise gifts. When Dean went out to his wood shop to do a little work, soft new work gloves were waiting on his bench. A sturdy leather messenger bag, the White Tree of Gondor worked into the flap, was hanging on the hook by the door, a replacement for Cas' old, threadbare foraging bag. New boots were sitting by the back door when Dean came in for lunch, black and shiny and almost too nice to wear outside. Cas was wearing the belt that Dean had left coiled in the drawer, with that gaudy purple "Cowgirl" belt buckle leftover from their bachelor party, the one that matched the pink buckle stored in Dean's top drawer.

Dean might've had to open that belt up, get down on his knees, and indulge in a little afternoon delight right there in the kitchen. It hadn't been part of the plan but who gave a damn. The sight of Cas above him, panting, eyes closed and face flushed as he came down, was worth a little detour.

Or a long detour. Whatever. It was their anniversary, they could fuck if they wanted.

Dinner was candle-lit, because Dean was a romantic, goddamnit. The pot roast had been braising low and slow for most of the day and Cas had made the best cherry pie that Dean'd ever eaten.

Soon enough they were lazing on the couch, lamplight golden around them, watching the fire in the fireplace flicker and spark.

"I have another present for you," Cas said as his fingers combed slow and lazy through Dean's hair.

"Well ain't that lucky, cause I've got another one for you, too," Dean drawled.

Getting up from the couch was hard, but Dean'd been waiting for weeks to unveil this last gift.

The bundle he pulled out from its secret hidey hole in the back of the closet unfurled into a long leather coat, soft as butter and lined with wool.

"Oh, Dean, it's wonderful," Cas said. He pulled a box out from behind his back and they traded bundles.

Dean set the box down and lifted the lid carefully off. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside, and he couldn't help bouncing and clapping his hands, just a little.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked, voice a little breathless and a touch giddy.

"I'm afraid I've played right into your cowboy fetish," Cas said with a long-suffering sigh. He reached around Dean and pulled the cowboy hat out and placed it on Dean's head. It fit perfectly. Of course it did.

Cas' arms were secure around Dean's waist and he dropped a kiss on the back of Dean's neck. "I love you, Dean."

Dean turned in his arms and kissed him soundly on the lips. "I love you, too. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He pulled out of Cas' arms and grabbed his wrist, tugging him urgently toward the bedroom. "Come on, buddy. I've got a cowboy to ride."

Cas groaned, but followed quickly behind him. "I've created a monster."

The hat, of course, stayed on the whole time.

Now posted to AO3 as Three Year Gone

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #deancas fanfic #destielvalentineexchange2024 #destiel fanfic #what can i say it's their third anniversary and im inspired #spn #miriel writes

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

watching RotK without watching FotR and TTT first for once has made me realise how incredibly reduced Legolas and Gimli's role is in that film. I cannot stress enough how Legolas in particular does and says NOTHING that isn't to support/help/obey Aragorn or otherwise further Aragorn's story. Which I find pretty funny because it really represents well how other people would perceive them. They're just Aragorn's Guys. They're there because he's there. Good thing he's there too because nobody would know what to do with them if he wasn't there.

Imagine you're a human soldier who hasn't fully come to terms with the fact elves and dwarves are still a thing and here's two, just hanging out with your army because of some freakishly deep loyalty to the future King of Gondor that still hasn't been explained to you.

Gimli and Legolas' are functionally bannermen (follow the lord not matter what, carry out his orders whatever they may be, fight for him, wear the same garb, fall on a sword if that'll help) except they're not his subjects or his kinsmen or owe him life debts, they just think he's that great of a person and that being his vassals is more rewarding than being lords of their respective people. Which is understandable when you've spent 15 minutes around Aragon but probably very weird for the people who don't know where that elf and dwarf even came from.

#lord of the rings #Aragon #legolas #Gimli #Return of the king #Gondor #lotr

[mlmxreader]

Battle Scars | Aragorn x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Aragorn

1 "Don't let a good meal go to waste" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Aragorn takes a liking to a soldier.

: ̗̀➛ war, death, violence, swearing

↳ @arthurmorgansballsack

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

A soldier's life was not one anyone would have ever wanted or liked to have had; tales of glory and honour were often caused by embellishment and the lies of those who ruled the land and the history books with an iron fist. The stories of what had happened on the front lines were often spun with lies and gold. They made shit seem like it glittered.

When you first joined the army, you were two years underage; you were told that you were fighting for a land fit for the victorious. You were told that religion was on your hand as you held your sword. You chased your days down to zero, you knew that you would never live a full life.

As much as you fought, bled, and nearly died you would never live a full life. You were fodder.

You knew that even a year would be longer than what most were given; when you first volunteered, you wrote down your name, and you added exactly two years to your age so that they would accept.

At the time, you had been eager for life; you were eager to see all of Middle Earth and to meet all of its peoples, you were eager to see great cities and brilliant forests and gorgeous mountains and bountiless seas.

You were eager for it all, and the promise of glory and honour and freedom was a brilliant promise that would never be kept; one year into the life, and you had seen too much already. You had been ahead at the time, so eager and so willing, that you never stopped to listen to those who had seen it all before.

You had been ahead, ready for your story of glory to be told; but there was none to be had. As much as you fought and you brawled, there was never any glory in it. You were just food and fodder.

But oh, that first year was nothing compared to the next; your friend, a young man from Gondor. He was the same age as you, a glorious head of black hair mixed with thick eyebrows and a wonderful smile; he seemed to be blessed by the sun, his almost black eyes seemingly glittering in the afternoons.

You heard him cry, and he sank to his knees; coughing blood as he screamed for his mother. You fell by his side, letting him die in your arms as you clung to each other like children; for hours, you laid in the mud, covered in guts and blood, weeping as his body grew colder. You called for his mother, but she never came - it wasn't your fault. You could never carry the burden of guilt for it.

The day had not even been half over when he became one of ten thousand who fell that day; nobody would remember his name. Nobody would remember his soldiering. Nobody would ever know him. You alone carried him.

You were never the same after that; as the years wore on, your guilt only grew. Having seen hundreds of friends die, you no longer wanted to be a soldier; you never wanted to be the only one who remembered their names, who remembered them.

But you stayed, slowly becoming like the very soldiers you didn't listen to - warning new recruits about it. About how war killed everything.

You met Aragorn after your tenth year in the wars.

He had been passing through as a ranger, and had stopped when he noticed the soldiers; he realised many of them came from Gondor and Rohan, but most of them were from just about everywhere he could think of.

The young ones seemed thirsty for battle, ready and waiting for it; but then he laid his eyes on you and the other grizzled and melancholic men in the corner.

Huddled over a fire with gazes that seemed to drift into the flames for thousands of miles, saying nothing and refusing to move; he tilted his head to the side, watching for a moment. None of you moved, but the soft puffs of light grey air that spouted from your noses was enough to see that you were all breathing.

You all looked miserable, and even worse, he could see that none of you had been eating; the younger ones had, but it was obvious even to Aragorn that those who had seen wars before were starving themselves to ensure the younger ones would survive the tough winters.

He swallowed thickly, watching for a moment for asking for you to speak with him; you met him in your tent, and although you weren't so keen on making friends anymore, you talked with him until the sun had risen. He promised that he would find you again, and he did.

At least once a week, a ranger would wander into the soldier's camp, and you would always spend hours speaking to him within your tent. Always until the sun had risen. It wasn't long before the others started to talk; you refused to call Aragorn a friend, knowing what happened to those who you allowed to get close.

You did not want to scream for another man's mother knowing she would not come; you did want to cling to another man as you held him like a child, weeping as the warmth left him. You could not do it again. You would not.

But Aragorn was determined, and would not relent; it didn't help that he insisted on bringing you whatever food he could find and spare. He always made sure that he left in the mornings and your stomach was full; food was a luxury, and he was all too aware that it was mostly you giving up your rations for the younger ones.

He knew that the rulers of kingdoms were often unfair and cruel; the lies of the devil and the devil's point of view. They made the world full of hate and anger, causing as much fear and pain as they could; but he could see it in you. You did not value pride, did not value glory. You could survive the storm, you could withstand the devil's lies.

You had taken enough pain that he was certain of it; sad were the memories of when you were not fighting in a war. A youth that had been doomed and squashed, an innocence that had been ripped and torn apart.

Aragorn heard the whispers of the dead just as you did; he heard them beg and implore you to forgive yourself, but you didn't. You had a price to pay, and not every ounce of gold had been repaid. For years, he visited, and tonight was no different.

He pushed the plate closer to you, pleading with his grey eyes as he frowned. "Please, don't let a good meal go to waste."

"I don't want it..." you muttered, shaking your head.

"But you look worse," he sighed. "You cannot starve, I will not allow it."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head again. "Aragorn, leave me. My clock has struck its final hour."

"No," he told you. "Death is not your fate. This pain that follows you... allow me to shoulder some of it so that you may experience enough peace to eat."

"Aragorn-"

"The days are darker," he started, "and you are getting worse. You are going to make yourself sick if you keep starving. Please."

"Why do you care so much?" You asked.

"You're not just a soldier to me," Aragorn whispered. "You know that. Don't you?"

"Please stop," you whispered. "Please. I am a shadow of a man."

"You have seen too much war," he pointed out. "You haven't seen enough peace... come with me for a while. See the world."

You froze, eyes widening as you shook your head with vigour. "No. No, you cannot make me go."

"Easy," Aragorn said softly. "I don't mean like that. I only mean... why don't you accompany me? You may see peace, that way, and it may quieten your head for a moment."

As much as you didn't want to admit it, you did trust Aragorn; he might not have fought beside you, but he had been loyal, and he had proved himself a decent companion more than once.

You trusted him, and although you knew such a thing was likely as it was, you would happily trade your life for his. You would pay the price of two miles for him, if it ever came down to it. Swords and maces and axes and bows, you would face it all for him. Although you were hesitant when it came to fighting; you could not bear the thought of seeing another man die in front of you.

Screaming and howling for his mother like a dying dog, all civility and humanity ripped from his body as he cried and moaned. You could not bear the thought of hearing them die on the battlefield at night; they would take days to die amongst the mud, often eaten by rats bit by bit.

You would end your life before seeing that again.

But perhaps Aragorn had a point; maybe if you went with him, and you saw his life for just a day, it would make you feel a little better. It wouldn't cure the melancholy, and nor would it take away the memories - but it might have made you feel a bit better.

Maybe all you needed was to see sprawling trees and bountiless grasses, to hear the scream of foxes and the grunting of deer; maybe all you needed was to just be away from war, if only for a day or two. Youm nodded slowly, sighing heavily as you fought back the urge to cry loudly.

"Alright," you said, your voice shaking. "I will go with you in the morning... but you best rest, Aragorn. Take my bed."

"No," he said quietly. "No, I can sleep on the floor. You need a bed, I do not."

"Please," you said softly. "As a thank you."

"You can thank me better by joining me," he told you with a smile. "It is rather cold... maybe we can share the warmth?"

You nodded slowly, daring to smile a little. "Alright."

#mlem writes #aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #aragorn imagine #aragorn fanfiction #aragorn son of arathorn #aragorn lotr #aragorn #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #lotr imagine #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #lotr aragorn #lotr #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings

[anghraine]

I was just thinking about how Tolkien gradually establishes that there are quite a lot of people in Gondor. In ROTK, he even specifies where they live (Belfalas, Lebennin, etc), but we don't see those places except in general descriptions/songs, and most of those people are defending the regions they live in and thus offstage.

It's easy to kind of forget that the Minas Tirith scenes are happening in a pretty big country with a large population (and that the weight Boromir felt in leading Gondor's defense wasn't just about the inhabitants of Minas Tirith, but a whole damn country with what would have to be over a million people, likely well over that). Even when people are talking about how the outlying forces that arrive to help defend the city are only a tenth of the fiefs' actual forces, I think it's something that often doesn't sink in.

So (for me, anyway), there's something both unexpected and really satisfying when book!Aragorn uses the dead to secure the armies of Gondor and then those offstage southern Gondorians we keep hearing about show up to lift the siege of Minas Tirith. We knew they were out there, but it wasn't real until they come leaping off the ships at the Pelennor.

I've talked before about why I like that Aragorn uses the army of the dead to liberate the southern Gondorians, but I do think there's something very effective about Aragorn arriving at the head of an overwhelmingly Gondorian army he convinced to follow him and saving Gondor that way—through providing very real assistance to the people he means to rule, inspiring them to follow him, and those people being necessary and critical to saving their country. It'd feel a lot more deus ex machina, too, if Tolkien hadn't reminded us that they were out there multiple times. But he does set it up in a kind of unobtrusive way, so I really enjoy how it winds out.

#the catalogue of incoming troops is such an interesting visual way of setting the rest of gondor up too #anghraine babbles #legendarium blogging #long post #aragorn #gondor #ondonórë blogging #anghraine's meta #boromir

[aphroditesmoon]

hi can i request one where Boromir meets the reader during Elrond’s council and is doubtful of them when they join the fellowship because he doesn’t think they can handle themselves in a fight but they turn out to be the most skilled fighter out of the whole fellowship and basically falls in love with the reader? <3

when I knew love's perfect ache

boromir son of denethor ii x witch!reader

warnings: weapons

a/n: sorry I took awhile, hope u like this!! I added a bit of my own ideas<33

°°°°

You knew what you were there for. From the moment you saw crows filling the sky in one fast swoop, loud in warning. And the animals had fled from open spaces to seek shelter in the welcoming forests.

When you arrived in Lord Elrond's home, it wasn't unexpected in his eyes, nor was it in the wizard Gandalf's.

"You're late." The elf teases in his own manner with a raised brow. "Im never late, I'm where I'm supposed to be, when I'm supposed to be." You replied.

"If that's what you need to tell yourself to sleep better at night." You roll your eyes at that before following his lead.

Despite his scolding of you, it seemed you were actually early. You saw glimpses of two mortal men, one of them you recognized, Estel. Walking through his home, eyeing everything in the large halls of his beautiful place, you admire the elven architecture.

Your dark coloured dress and the haunted vision it gives to your appearance seems to have no effect to the servants leading you to your room and smiling towards you from corners of the halls.

They have heard of you, though you've always made sure your identity remains discreet, the elven ears and eyes sees and hears many.

Leaving behind the servants lead, you walk towards the ranger and his companion, a knowing smile on your lips. "Age seems to have nothing on you, Aragorn." He doesn't flinch at your voice, as he doesn't flinch at anything. Instead, he speaks your name first before turning his head towards you.

"Of course, I should've expected your presence, apart of the council for the horrors middle earth might be heading towards."

You let a hand move to his shoulder, squeezing it in comfort.

"And who do we have here? Captain of Gondor." You answer your own question as his face flashes in front of your face, and in your own mind.

"I don't believe we've met before." He concluded, frowning in question. "No, I believe we haven't."

You end it there before turning to leave the men to themselves, being the first to arrive to the meeting alongside the prince Legolas Greenleaf.

The elf greets you with a smile and a nod of his head before turning back to scowl at the entrance of a dwarf. You bite back a smile.

Once the required guests have all arrived, Lord Elrond wastes no time getting into the topic. Arguments were made and suggestions given. All you have seen forecasted earlier that day. You give Gandalf a look of consolation as he looks at you knowingly, the dwarf and elf arguing still.

What truly shook both of you out of eachother's silent conversation was when the son of Gondor began to speak. "My people-" You knew what he'd suggest. "-Have been suffering for years while-"

"And they will continue so suffering or even worse if the ring is not destroyed." Your voice thunders through the sudden silence, confident and sure.

Boromir's eyes snaps to you, and you could almost see resentment in them. "And how would you know what would happen?"

"I see...some, parts of the future.", His eyes shone in a glint of curiosity. "No matter what route the dark lord takes, either the ring destroys men by their own hands, or his own will."

He looks away from you immediately, you hear his low whispered name for you, that sounded almost like a curse. "...Witch."

Lord Elrond sighs deeply before speaking again, directed to you. "It would be wise for you to just tell us what you see now. I can tell you're enjoying the time wasting arguments, but time, does not seem to be on our good side these days. "

You nodded your head and searched through your mind for memories you've had for this day. "I do not see much recently. The eye, has shown me multiple ways it can take what it wants. But I am sure, that the burden of the ring will lie nowhere else but to the halfling, Frodo Baggins."

Nods and glances of understanding are shared upon the circle, it seems they've predicated as much, and this was all the confirmation they needed.

"And he will not continue this journey alone, I assume?" Gandalf pushes.

You smile warmly at him. "No, sons of Gondor and the prince of Mirkwood alongside Gimli son of Gloin, will join him, for his own safety for the journey." Sam Gamgee bursts out if the bushes as if summoned, apparently upset he was not mentioned.

Elrond sighs loudly. "What part of secret meeting did no one understood."

He gives you a look of question and you look towards Sam with understanding. "Wherever he goes, you must go with him." Sam agrees with a fervent nod, serious was his express

What you didn't expect was their two friends appearing from invisible spot, desperately wanting to follow. Elrond, with his patience thinning, concluded the meeting. "It will be called the fellowship of the ring, companions of 9." His own eyes search yours for approval, as if you should be disagreeing.

"10." You corrected, watching as he relaxes.

"A witch, as helpful as she could be, would only be so burdensome in such a dangerous journey." Boromir, son of denethor the second, spoke out immediately.

You flinch at such a public insult, brows frowning together. "She is as useful as any of you men, I can assure you son of Gondor, my words, surely would be enough?" Gandalf interjects before you could argue.

He eyes you suspiciously, but less threatening than before, and relented to the grey wizard.

You were the first to be ready for the journey, Packing some well needed knives and a spare sword alongside some fruits. Your head turn to look behind you when you hear footsteps.

Boromir carries a readied bag himself, walking closer to you, he eyes yours. "Hopefully you won't be needing to use that." he jokes, nudging to your sword. You smile at him before tying it and lifting it up over your shoulders. "We all do what we have to when necessary.

His eyes slowly rises up to meet yours with an unreadable gaze. "Yes, we do."

Visions be damned, for you see nothing of this man's future. and if you'd have to to take a bet, he was talking to himself more than he was to you. The image of the ring clouding his better judgement, you're sure.

The journey began that afternoon, the first day going smoothly as you expected. You notice how the walking was starting to take effect on the hobbits, tiring faster than the taller folks.

"We should take rest. The heat is taking a toll on everyone." You spoke to Aragorn as you walk past him.

You knew he'd prefer all to continue, but gives in instead, and announces a short break to restore some well needed energy.

Sitting on the edge of cliff, you find shelter under a large lonesome tree, watching as the hobbits attempt in fighting lessons with the captain. Absolutely failing too.

"It'd be easier for a beginner to practice with a blade, or anything smaller, nothing to do with your size I assure you." You called out as you start to stand up to walk towards them.

Pippin raise a brow at you, folding his arms together. "I don't know miss, it sort of sounded like we're being pigeonholed here." Merry agrees giving you a matter-of-factly look. "He's right, were stronger than we look like."

You laughed and didn't disagree. "She's right. Though, don't think I'd have a blade to spare." Boromir says.

You immediately pull out your own and passed it to him. He gives you a suspicious look. "And just how many weapons do you carry"

"Enough, hopefully. In case of unwanted trouble." You answered. "That is if you can you use any of them." He lets the words come out easily, unaware of how insulting it sounded.

Your hand, as if on impulse, unarms both his sword and blade barehanded, while the other takes advantage of his suprised state to pull him by his arm to you before twirling him around and twisting it to his back. You slammed him then, by your knee, letting him go as he jolts forward, the sound of Merry and Pippin's laughter fills the space.

"And what would you know of things I can and cannot know to use?" You question sternly, clearly offended. Boromir, collecting his stability and shame, turns apologetic.

"That is not what I meant-"

"No, what you meant is that you can't imagine how a woman of my physique and rank would even know how to wield a sword. And I don't appreciate judgements of my character being made, Captain." Chided like a child, Boromir turns his head down in a low bow.

"You are right, I apologize, I was ignorant of my words."

When he finally looks up to you, you spare him a second glance only before walking away, Merry and Pippin almost enjoying the dramatic argument. Seeing such a brave and large fighter like Boromir being scolded into an apology was a quite amusing sight for even Aragorn.

The ranger who's heard and seen all, decided that it was time to get moving again, the odds of the journey would most likely be on their side if they kept going and got less on eachother's throats.

"Well, I'd say that's enough re energizing. We shan't wait for Gandalf to appear, hell know where to find us." Aragorn speaks, giving you a look of warning to play nice, before urging everyone to get up and ready.

The journey continued in silence, night dawning upon you and your company, sun replaced by night stars and a cloud hidden moon. The sound of Legolas and Gimli bickering behind you starts to fill the quiet.

Another argument on Dwarf history being better than elves.

Ginlis yelling was cut off by Legolas with his questions. "And you say this as someone who's visited these caves, I assume?"

The dwarf turns silent. "I didn't say-". "Aha! So you speak of nothing more than stories." Legolas challenged before the two starts to talk over eachother again.

"Perhaps you should visit the caves together, once this journey is over, how else then can you prove yourself right?" You interrupt, tilting your head back towards them with a grin.

Gimli rolls his eyes and scoffs while Legolas actually seems to consider it. "I wouldn't go anywhere with an elf." Gimli answers.

"Well you're here with me now, aren't you?" Legolas taunts. And again, the argument starts.

The weary spirits of your companies slowly lifts after that, the tiredness didn't seem much as burdensome.

And whilst you smile at your friends debates and terrible hobbit jokes, you failed to notice the on man who's smiling as well while his eyes remains on you the whole night.

#boromir son of denethor x reader #boromir #boromir x reader #lotr #lotr fanfic #lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 163- Soul Seekers

Summary: Rahl gains strength. Josie experiences it in her very soul. She and Legolas speak of current events. Thoughts of Thranduil are heard by the Prince. The Elvenking finds an opening. The King and the Prince have words. A threat is made. Jace, Clover and Matthew enjoy breakfast until upsetting news triggers both Clover and the vampire. The dhampir gets a glimpse of new magic. Legolas faces unexpected feelings as he and Lola bond over shared concerns. The Prince also bonds with his sightful soul sister, but not in the way he expected.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst,

Chapter characters: Thranduil, Josie, Legolas, Lola, Boromir, Leean, Narcisse, Rahl, Amara, Conde', Jace, Clover, Matthew,

Chapter word count: 6,080

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

"Josie, Lola. It is best if we all go inside." Legolas proclaimed after his father's manic meltdown that triggered a chain of earthquake like effects all throughout middle earth.

The Black Rhun was still angry as white capped waves rocked and raced with the whistling wind and a sinister stormy sky of dancing lightning levitated low above ominous ocean.

"Legolas. What was that??? Jareth??" you panted, refusing to let go of the rail you clung to for a crutch.

Boromir had the same question in his panicked eyes and when they connected with Legolas's, the answer had become crystal clear to the man of Gondor.

"Please, my lady. Come inside. The conditions are not stable out here." replied the King as you still believed him to be, totally avoiding your question as he reached for you.

You refused to release the railing as Lola quickly took Leean inside with Boromir, for you suddenly caught sight of Stephane standing on the shoreline.

"No. Stephane. He's out there alone. Harker could be lurking!"

You still cared deeply for Narcisse, no matter what state of mind he was in, for it wasn't his fault.

Narcisse, in his altered state, stood vulnerable at the water's dangerous edge, flooded by flashes of lightning and happily hypnotized by it. He knew in that moment that the Elvenking was in fact alive and was no longer in the evil clutches of the goblin king. It didn't matter to Rahl, but it certainly did to Stephane who was unable to overpower the dark lord. What was still unclear though to both warlocks that were trapped in the same body, was if Thranduil was a product of Jareth's resurrected evil dead. Either way, the Elvenking was back and to put it quite simply, he was pissed.

"Narcisse!!!" you screeched as the howling gusty winds abused your body.

The man that retained Stephane's physical image, made no acknowledgment to your shrill call as he remained locked in the mammoth moon's blinding luminosity, as if he were being charged by it's incandescence.

"Ok, well maybe you'll answer to this." you mumbled.

"Darken Rahl!!!!"

Your tactic seemed to have worked. Narcisse slowly turned to you in an eerie manner and then, before your very bedazzled eyes, he vanished.

You released the rail and spun around multiple times, your eyes darting about the grounds for any sight of him. The wind ceased like it had simply been shut off by a switch and all went silent as if you were in the eye of the storm. Your attention quickly went to Legolas, who was now standing just inside the patio doors comforting both a crying Leean and Lola and then, there came a sound of flapping, like the wings of a very large bird.

As you whipped around, there in the moon's path, appeared exactly that. A white feathered species you couldn't place with the wingspan of a giant eagle's and it was heading right for you.

The raptor like animal screeched in it's descent and morphed into ribbons of black smoke as it landed and out of that vision swiftly walked a red robed man with long jet black strands and Stephane's face.

You froze solid, paralyzed from head to toe as his blazing blue orbs glared you down and he didn't stop. His long fast strides carried forth, right to you and through you as if he...or you...were a hologram.

Gasping loud and heavily, your eyes rolled back as your body followed suit and you found yourself slowly falling to the ground....and then, cool soft hands vigorously but gently caressed your cheeks.

"Josie! Josie my lady. Wake up." Legolas's frantic voice echoed through your head.

Your eyes fluttered open to see widened moonstone's and platinum strands flowing over you in the lingering breeze of Rahl's hit and run, for as you flung to your feet, the wicked warlock was gone.

"Where...what the hell was...where did he go??"

"Whom do you speak of? There...is no one here Josie."

"Yes?? Yes there was...I...you didn't see that??"

You gazed off in the direction Rahl been going to see nothing but an empty patio. Jesus, did you hallucinate again? No...no, it was real, wasn't it? It had to be. You had felt him. You could smell him, the pepper, as you clutched your dress and buried your nose into it. He had moved right through you...through your very soul.

"I...I have to find Stephane. I...I...ah...ahhh...CHOO!!!"

The sneeze was so powerful, it knocked you right into Legolas's arms. Now you knew it had to be real. The spicy pepper triggered your sneeze, just as it had when Rahl's panther form blasted his scorching breath over you, burning your nose just as it was doing now. You needed to confront Stephane, or...Rahl and you needed to try and coax out the man who loved you, the man who had the power help your fever dreams, per se. But first...

"Leggy...I...I'm really frightened." you admitted in a most vulnerable way as you gazed up into the elf's worried eyes, which wasn't about what his father had just done. It was about you. The Prince noticed something off about you and if Haldir had been there, he would have been the first to see it with his superpower of reading one's soul.

"That is quite understandable after what has occurred but..."

"No...not about any of that. It's...do...oh god...I don't even know how to say it. D..do..you think that...Jareth could have brought...."

Your words were ceased by Legolas's single word as his eyes darted to the forest.

"Amara..." he whispered with a grimace, for her scent burned his eyes as well, one that only his kind could pick up.

"What? Where??" you asked with a gasp as you spun around, but did not see her anywhere. "I..I have been looking for her! I think she knows where Garrett is. Amara!!!"

"I do not see her, but I can sense her."

Legolas knew that Amara knew he had returned and was watching him, waiting to collect on their arrangement. He also knew that she knew his father had caused the sonic like boom and that was why she was hiding. If there was anyone the Seelie queen feared, it was the Elvenking and it brought a slight curling smile to Legolas's lips, for he knew his father's hatred of her would soon unbind him to the fiendish faerie.

"Josie, please. We must go inside now."

"But...I need to speak to her! She's obviously here for a reason?? Garrett...I..I saw him with Kate in a vision and I..I believed it at first, but...he woudln't..he wouldn't do that and I think Amara knows something."

"Amara will not surface right now. Even she has fears. And the vampire is not my concern and should not be yours at this time, or even at all for that matter. If Kate is back, like you say, then it is not wise to be outside. Now, Josie, please...."

"Stop it Leggy. Don't tell me what to be concerned about. And...what even WAS that apocalyptic explosion anyways?? You never answered me. Surely, you must know something? When you arrived here, you said you sensed something in the air and now this happens less than a day later."

Legolas had never straight up lied to you, especially not to your face and the fact that he had to do it, had the power to turn his stomach.

"It was possibly Jareth, as you had asked." he rattled off as he walked to the opened patio doors so he would not have to look you in the eyes, for you would see his untruth through the windows of his soul.

You glanced behind you once more into the darkness, feeling uncertain that it had been the goblin king. Jareth was powerful, but was the wacked out warlock THAT powerful? The familiar vibes in the air were hard for you to ignore. This felt more...elvenly....and Legolas said possibly.

"Yeah...possibly. But...what if...."

You turned to the anxious elf lord with resumed thoughts of Thranduil that you were scared to reveal, which forced Legolas's lying eyes to meet yours after he heard you finish your sentence, not yet realizing you had not spoke them aloud.

"he brought Thranduil back?"

"If anything is possible, it is not that." he immediately responded, feeling that much to be true, for Thranduil had not been summoned by the book of shadows.

With gaping eyes, you slowly walked to Legolas, who had stepped inside and held his hand out to you. Your good hand slid into his and then you yanked him to the side once the door was secured.

"Legolas?? How...I...I spoke those words in my mind!"

His head tilted and his eyes narrowed, then widened when he recalled the other times this had happened, believing it to have either been the dark forest's trickery or his longing for you due to your prior separation.

"So it was real..." Legolas softly spoke as he gently touched your cheek.

"Leggy? What...was real? What just happened?"

"I..I have heard you before, calling my name. More than once."

Reality finally struck you as well. "Oh my god, yes. I...I have heard you too! But I was sure it was only a dream or vision of some sort, because I...I saw the orcs! I saw you fighting them. You were near the Celduin...which that is where it really happened and Boromir was injured. Leggy, how is this possible??"

"It must be that we both share my father's blood. I am just not sure why this has never happened until now or that it only seems to occur at certain times. It may be due to your shield, which you can control like myself and my father ca...could."

And Legolas knew that was exactly why his father was so angry, for blocking him out.

"Yes...I think you are right Legolas. When I am weakened, my mind is vulnerable as well. It makes sense now and...oh wow. So does seeing your grandmother, Carandolel! I...I saw her once when your father was visiting hers and Oropher's secret graves. She...she had came to him. And I saw her yet again. She...she is the one who pulled me from the ocean after I was knocked out of Garrett's arms. And at Lestat's too...in the mirror! She was with Thranduil! Legolas, we ALL share the same blood."

You smiled and then so did he. "We do. Josie...about my father..."

Due to the Prince's distraction, the Elvenking found a doorway into his son's mind...and soul.

"Yesss Legolas. About your father."

Being caught off guard by his father's intrusion, Legolas knew he had to quickly find a way to excuse himself, for he could not hold a feasible conversation with both you and the mad King's plausible words at the same time, nor did he feel right in doing so.

"Legolas??" you asked as he abandoned his words. "What about Thranduil?"

Leeanduil conveniently began to fuss and squeal as she stared up at her big brother, relieving him of his non-existent reasons to depart, for now he had one.

"Let me take her for a little walk through the halls, if that is alright with you Josie?" he quickly asked as he gently pulled the petite Princess from Lola's arms.

"Yes, of course Leggy. It will calm her after all this commotion. She loves spending time with you and she certainly seems to want you right now."

After Legolas left and before you decided to go look for Stephane, you stood with Lola to keep her company until Legolas returned and also to ask her about the young girl you saw earlier.

"Lola...is there by chance a little girl staying here or visiting, possibly about ten years old, reddish brown hair? She..she said her name is Rosie?"

"Hmmm. It does not ring a bell. I know of every child in this castle, even visiting ones. Why do you ask?"

You felt your stomach do a flip, realizing it was either another vision or a hallucination, but something inside your soul told you it was different, but different how?

"I'm just trying to figure out what's real anymore. My visions, dreams and such, they are changing. Lola...I saw her. I...spoke..to her. I've seen her before, long ago in a dream. Who could she be?"

"I'm sorry Josie. I wish I could be of better assistance."

The man who was told to you by Lola to be Conde', Francis's deputy assistant, approached Lola and offered his hand with a sweet smile.

"You could assist me my lady. Would you like to dance?"

Lola seemed starstruck by the tall, dark and handsome man's offer and quickly accepted.

"I'd love to."

You giggled as they left hand in hand and watched them dance for awhile until you suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to eat and strangely, all you craved was meat.

As you nitpicked through the buffet, choosing solely ham and chicken carvings, Legolas was off in his chambers, simultaneously entertaining his sister and trying to stabilize his father.

"Tell me my only begotten son, which storm was it that weakened your mind? Mine, or the one that brews between your legs for my Queen?"

The Elvenking calmly paced about his chambers with a wine goblet firmly in hand, continuing his charade of having returned to his old self, but Legolas had concluded long before his arrival in Dorwinion that it was a trick to reclaim his daughter.

"I assure you I suffer from no such storm and yours was received loud and clear."

"Is that so? Explain to me then, why my attempts to speak with you have been blatantly disregarded."

"There have been many happenings here, some that you are not aware of, that required my full attention."

"I am quite aware of where your full attention has been. Here....you say? That being of Lord Narcisse's realm and not on your return travel with my daughter? Or...Josephine as you were ordered to do?"

"Yes Adar. I remain in Dorwinion. Traveling is not safe for Leeanduil or Josie. Harker threatens the lands. He has killed many of Narcisse's men and Jareth's whereabouts are unknown as are any of the dead he has brought forth."

"Surely you do not wish me to believe such nonsense? Your proficient skills, along with Haldir's, the bowman's and Josephine's power are quite sufficient for travel."

"I disagree. Four of us, all highly skilled, myself, Boromir, Aragorn and Gimli were all attacked by Jareth's man made orcs and Boromir was severely wounded. Surely you do not want Leean to be caught in a war?? Haldir, Bard, Aragorn and Gimli are not even here. It is only Boromir and I."

"Tell me Legolas, have you informed Josephine of my existence as I have commanded? For surely, if you had, her love for her King would not keep here there."

"Surely, her love for her daughter would. She would not be so willing as you are to risk her safety. Although she had saved Boromir, I feel her powers are now not in tact and for unknown reasons, she has been concealing that from me. She has suffered greatly over your loss and it has taken an everlasting toll on her. She even believes Jareth may have brought you back from the dead as well and wishes to know my thoughts of it."

Thranduil's thoughts briefly veered off again to the words of your soulful letter and to seeing you crying. He also recalled your possible projection when he held and kissed you in Mirkwood's forest and he even recalled his own out of body travel as the white hart. Your reactions at both instances to seeing him, verified the grief you suffered that Legolas spoke of and he could only figure that you did not remember it or believe it to be real, which would explain why you still believed him dead, aside from Legolas not telling you the truth and the Elvenking...well...he did not care in the least for your pain.

"Preposterous. The spell of resurrection merely opens the door to life. The dead have a choice if they want to walk through it, for they know what they will become. Those of light become dark and those of darkness become death in itself. They become lost souls."

"How do you know this to be true?"

"Because even I would not choose such a fate."

"You would not? You relished in what Jareth had done to you and now you claim your own soul is yours again, but I do not feel that it is. Even in the Elvenking's natural darkness, he would not risk his Queen and daughter's well being. If you want Josie to know you are alive, why do you not inform her yourself? Is it because you do not want her to know who you are? For then, she would not wish to come and so you have forced me to do your bidding."

"You dare to question who I am?? Was my storm too subtle for you to know your place??!! If I have not received confirmation of your impending arrival by the rise of the sun, you will have confirmation of mine. I will come to reclaim what is mine and you, my insubordinate son, will suffer dearly."

Legolas then knew his father had closed the conversation and he now regretted calling him out, but by doing so, it proved to him just as he believed. Thranduil was not Thranduil. His soul was severely compromised and if he came to Dorwinion, all hell would break loose, mostly for you.

As the sun had set in middle earth, it was rising in the modern world of Manhattan with Jace and Clover awaking in each other's arms after their night of love confessions and sweet love making.

"Good morning my beautiful Clover." the blue and brown eyed warlock softly whispered with a smile as he kissed the ginger haired dhampir's forehead.

"Mmmm." she hummed as she stretched and yawned, squinting at the sunlight beaming through the stained glass window. "I gotta get used to not being called Raven. It's been years since I have went by Clover and it was a brief period since dhampirs grow so fast."

"Yes, well, batten down the hatches, for there is much more here to get used to. Come on. Take a shower with me and then I will show you the rest of the compound."

"You mean this old church?"

"Yes, but remember, I told you it's real contents are only visible to the warlocks unless we show you, which is what I said I would do. Chop chop. I smell Matthews cooking and I am famished after last night."

Jace wickedly grinned, slapped her ass and hopped out of bed, standing in bare form with his hand extended out, among "other" things.

Clover's grin matched his as she quickly took his hand and was pulled up against his growing girth, only to then be swooped up into his arms and carried off to the bathroom, laughing and squealing.

After an hour of more love making under the steaming stream of water, the two dressed and headed to the dining area where Matthew De Clermont sat, sipping on his wine. It was always 5 o'clock in a vampire's world.

The dark haired vamp's cobalt eyes gazed at a blushing Clover and then they rolled to Jace with his wet slicked back hair. One would have thought by Matthew's expression, that he did not approve of their obvious night of passion, but that was just his usual look, for he really had nothing to smile about, not for at least 20 more years when he would unite with Leeanduil. All in all, he was thrilled for his pal Jace, but even still...he was quite envious and lonely.

"Now that you both are....recharged...I presume you will be heading to Dorwinion as we discussed last evening over dinner?"

"Yes." Jace confirmed. "When the sun sets here, for it will then be daylight there. Speaking of food, what is that I smell?"

"Scrambled eggs, and an array of "undercooked" meats to suit the needs of our guest. Strength must be kept up for what's to come."

"Cheese. You put cheese in the eggs right Matty?" Jace asked with serious concern.

A slight and short lived smile came over Matthew's lips. "Sharp cheddar, of course."

"Hell yes!" Jace applauded and bolted off to the kitchen. "Hey! No biscuits and gra...oh, never mind, Found it!"

Clover giggled as Matthew resumed his resting bitch face, then pulled out a cell phone and began scrolling.

"What...is that?" she curiously asked, for she had never seen one before.

"You, my dear, have a lot to learn of the modern world. This is a cell phone. I can speak to others on it, out loud or by texting."

"T..texting?"

"You know, typing words? Like this."

Matthew held the mobile device out and demonstrated as he typed in her name.

Clover's blazing blues popped wide open. "Oh my. All I have ever known was the power of a pencil. How bad ass!"

"I'll tell you what's bad ass!" Jace happily attested as he sat a filled plate before her. "This! Babe, you gotta try the biscuits and sausage gravy. It's fucking killer."

Clover chuckled and rolled her eyes. "You and your biscuits."

"Damn straight. Although these are way better than KFC's. Matty here is a master chef."

The two ate with Jace scarfing down 3 plates to Clover's one while Matt enjoyed his wine. Once they were finished, the vampire then spoke as he looked up from his phone with dire eyes.

"There has been a change of plans for your trip tonight. We will all be going."

"Matthew? What is it?" Jace inquired with all seriousness to match the vexed vamp's face.

"I have word from my contact that other vampires, dealers to be exact, are sniffing around the area. There's only one reason for that to happen and that is the probability that they have picked up on Clover's scent."

"What??!!" Clover shouted in panic and flung from her seat.

"Easy, easy sweetheart." Jace lovingly said as he took her in his arms to comfort her. "I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. I put my life on it. Matthew, who is the contact?"

"Ryan. I don't think you have met him but he is a vampire I trust with my own life. Although, Clover, you may know who he is?"

'I..I'm sorry? I..I do not know of any vampires named Ryan. Should I? I mean, I have been imprisoned half of my life in case you have forgotten?"

"No, I have not forgotten. My mistake. Garrett must not have spoken of him."

"Garrett?? What the fuck does he have to do with any of this? Garrett hates me!"

"Hey, calm down." Jace firmly stated. "If Matthew trusts this vampire, then so do I."

"Ok?? But I don't trust Garrett!"

All the commotion triggered Matthew's blood rage. He stood so fast, slamming his hands upon the table, knocking one of the wooden legs loose and sending Clover's head to burrow in Jace's armpit.

"Enough! As far as I am aware, Garrett and Ryan do not speak. They have not seen each other in years. Now, do you want to live or die?? Prepare yourselves. We leave in the twilight hours."

Matthew was gone in the blink of an eye and Jace did as he was told.

"Come on. I need to show you some things as promised, and then we will prepare.

Down the steps, Jace led a frazzled and frightened Clover to the foyer of the old church that only showed a battered and broken interior.

"Ok." Jace sighed. "Try to remain calm. What I am about to do may look painful and scary, but trust me, I have done this many times and it only stings a a bit."

"Jesus Jace. Remain calm knowing death dealers are still seeking out my soul and also after what you just told me? What the fuck is going on?"

"Did I not just say trust me? I know what I am doing Clover."

"Fine. Have at it then." she huffed.

Jace then took out what looked like a pen to the dhampir. "This...is my stele that I told you about. The thing my father took from me. I told you I went back for it after you left with Thranduil."

"Yes, I remember that/ So, what's so big about it? Is it some kind of magic wand or something?"

Jace grinned. "Something like that. Watch."

He rolled up the sleeve of his black leather jacket and placed the tip of the object close to his skin. It then lit up as Jace began to burn some kind of symbol onto his forearm, which smoked and even made a searing noise that the tougher than nails warlock actually flinched over with a hissing sound.

"Jace! Oh my god, you're...burning yourself!!"

"It's alright Clover. I'm drawing the rune to show you my underground world per se. It will heal right up in seconds and look merely like a tattoo. Now, look straight ahead."

The old ruins of the church began to transform right before Clover's astonished eyes, into a futuristic world of things she had only ever read about in books. Technology and people were everywhere, mostly dresses like Jace.

"Oh...my...god..." Clover whispered, quite hysterically as she froze solid. "C..can...they...see us?"

Jace bellowed in laughter. "Of course they can see us silly. Come on. I'll show you around and introduce you to the people I call my real family."

"People? they're...humans?"

"Somewhat. They're warlocks and witches, just like me and you, well...minus the vampiness, but still just as powerful." he chuckled.

"So...that little gadget can do all of this? Hide you from the world?" Clover asked as they walked around the digitalized fortress that could have no way fit inside the simple two story church...but it did.

"It can and it can do much much more my lady. Do you remember when I told you I needed this to travel through portals? Well, this will open a portal for us to hit middle earth in 2.1 seconds. If I had had it that day in goblin town, Thranduil would have been eating our dust."

"So, that's what all those symbols are on your body? Runes? I can't believe I called them tattoos when I first met you. But wait...I...I saw one on Josie's neck...at Lestat's? How does she have one? I mean...she's..not your sister."

"She's still blood though. It must have been drawn on her somehow, most likely in a dream, from someone of blood trying to protect her. A rune placed on the neck signifies an intensified angelic power that one of light would wear. I saw it on her too but it was faded or dormant per se. Thing is, I'm pretty sure she knows nothing of what it truly is and I didn't have time to explain it when I had to explain being her brother. Let's just say, she's one super powered witch, even without the rune mark."

"Great...I'm definitely dead when she finds out what I've done."

"Hey, no. I won't let that happen. I'll talk to her, try to explain things on your behalf."

"Oh great, she'll just kill you too then."

"Alright, enough. I said I will keep you safe and I will. I love you Clover. Let's go mingle and what not to waste some time until twilight, then we will zap across the pond."

The castle party continued on into the night despite the earth's shake up and now you were dealing with Catherine's soul stealing glare from across the dance hall as she mingled with her son Francis and his Queen Mary. Still, there was no sign of Stephane. He was either avoiding the entire shindig or simply just..you.

When you returned to the hall and joined Legolas and Leean, Conde' and Lola were dancing once again.

The Lake Town deputy seemed to be smitten with her and possibly she felt the same, although you knew her heart truly lied with Legolas, but he had made it abundantly clear to you that his feelings were not reciprocated, still you tried once more to spark his interest despite the fact he had told you to drop it.

"Leggy. Doesn't Lola look so beautiful in that red velvet dress? You should ask her to dance too."

The blonde elf had always been a spitting image of his father, and in that moment, did he ever as his eyes narrowed and side eyed you.

"I know what you are trying to do. Did I not ask you to relinquish such attempts?"

"Oh, don't be a party pooper Leggy. It's just a simple question and a dance."

"A simple question of entrapment and a dance I would much rather share with you."

You sighed and turned back to Lola who now wandered off with Mary's sister Kenna after her dance ended.

"Well...I suppose you, me and Leean could share a dance?" you offered with a grin as you stared straight ahead, feeling Legolas' eyes burning in your direction.

He happily stood up, cradling Leean in one arm and extending his other to you.

"My lady. May we have this dance?"

"Why yes my lord, we shall."

You took his hand with a sweet smile and he led you to the dance floor and for not one, but two harp filled songs, the three of you danced and twirled as you and Legolas chuckled along with Leeanduil's giggles and coos.

Lola headed for a goblet of wine as Kenna went to converse with Bash. From what you understood from Lola, Kenna used to fool around with the deputy warlock and that is why she tagged along with Francis and Mary. You hoped that Bash's fancy of her would not deter him from going to find Delphine during the night when all turned in form the party.

As Lola was making her way back to you, she caught sight of a vision she wished she could unsee. Narcisse kissing Claude, Catherine's daughter, in a remote corner of the hall. If there was any way to stick it to his wicked ex, and even to you, that was it.

Lola was now between a rock and a hard place, for she knew you should know, but she had no inkling of how to tell you. Her gut was telling her not to, for she did not want to add fuel to the fire that was already burning between you and her employer. Also, she did not want to face Narcisse's wrath if she were found out to be the tattle tale. It would soon turn out though, that Lola wouldn't have to say a word.

The gigantic grandfather clock struck 10 o'clock, echoing through the ballroom and the people were getting more rowdy. You could clearly see that the real party was just beginning and you didn't want Leean around the all the noise.

"Lola, I feel it is time for Leean to turn in for the night. Legolas, would you walk them back to my chambers please?"

There was that side eye again. "Of course, but I will return after my sister is asleep." he duly noted with adamant eyes.

"You...do not want to feed her and tuck her in?" Lola asked, a bit confused.

"No, Lola. I do not. Is that alright with you??" you snapped, not even realizing you had.

"Josie? Are..you alright?" Legolas then asked, in which you huffed, rolled your eyes and walked away.

Legolas reluctantly escorted Lola back to your chambers where she decided to voice her concerns over your behavior that Legolas had already picked up on much earlier.

"Legolas, something...is not right with her. I realize she has been drinking and would not want to breast feed, but it is not like her to not want to put her to bed like she does every night."

"Yes, I would agree with you. I believe the night's earlier events have caused her great worry upon all that she is already suffering. A bottle of Mirkwood's water will be suffice."

"I just feel so bad for her." Lola sympathized. "Mostly everyone she loves is gone. Her King, her dad, Haldir, Garrett, her brother that she found out tonight is not her brother and now learns she has another brother she never knew about and then there's this whole Jareth and Harker ordeal and not to mention Lord Narcisse is also not acting himself. He freed that wretched Catherine which adds to Josie's distress. She was quite upset about something else earlier too and cut her hand on a broken mirror that I believe she herself broke. I just do not know what to do for her Legolas. She's so lost and...I..I love her like a sister that I've never had. She's...she's my best friend and I think she is keeping things from me and...She's done so much for me and I just want to help her and I can't. She won't let me."

Lola shamefully turned from the Prince and began to quietly sob.

Legolas laid Leean down and took Lola's hand.

"Lola...I can see how deeply you care for her. I do as well. All that you said is true, but I know she did not mean to be cruel to you. It's not in her nature, even with all she has endured, which is why I am certain something has happened to cause her behavior. You say she cut her hand?"

Lola's leaking blue eyes peered up into Legolas's and for a split second, he felt something he never deemed possible. Attraction.

"Yes...but...I tended to her wound and...it looked pretty bad. Infected maybe and the healing water...it..it burned her."

Legolas's brows pinched together in confusion and concerned thought. "Burned? It should heal."

Lola fell against his chest in full blown tears. "What is happening Legolas? What can we do??"

The stunned elf froze for a moment, not sure what to do but his instincts, or maybe even unknown desires, quickly took over as he brought his arms up to cradle the fragile crying beauty.

"I..I wish to take her and Leean back home where it is safe, but...that cannot be at this time. It is too dangerous to travel."

Lola sniffled and raised her head to meet his sorrowful moonstones.

"And...me too? She..she said she would take me with her, that I..I was family to her. I mean..if..that is alright with you, since you are now the King of Mirkwood. I..I don't want to be left here alone."

Legolas found his fingers trailing over her tear soaked cheek, like satin to his touch.

"When the time comes, you are more than welcome in my kingdom, lady Lola."

There was a silence and an intense stare that delved into each other's souls and then, a sudden urge perplexed the Prince. An urge to kiss the girl.

As he slowly leaned down to do so, Leean began to cry. Legolas swiftly snapped out of his trance and then backed away with baffled eyes.

"I..I will tend to her. Why don't you relax in a bath to calm you while I do so and when you are finished, I will go tend to her mother as well."

"As you wish Prin..I mean King..Legolas." Lola bashfully stuttered and scurried off with butterflies fluttering through her very soul that she had never known to exist.

Legolas cradled and comforted his baby sister as he fed her and while she suckled, her tiny hand came to touch her big brother's cheek. In that moment, soul to soul, through the windows of their moonstones, Legolas realized what a very powerful Princess Leeanduil would be as he was taken aback by a vision. A vision she had the power to show him. A power unbeknownst to him that she had or could have at such a premature age, for she was only less than 2 months old. A power she possessed to show him things she had seen and also, like you, things that were to come...and the vision was so unsettling, that he swore he would never speak of it. It was of you and your distant future that would change everything as he knew it....as you knew it....as his father knew it.

@redeemer46

#lee pace #king thranduil #thranduil and josie #thranduil fanfiction #fantasy fiction #fantasies #fairytales #magic #love stories #dark fairytales #dark fiction #dark stories #the elvenking #craig parker #lord narcisse #darken rahl #legolas greenleaf #elves #jace herondale #jace wayland #witches #warlocks #vampires #matthew de clermont #matthew clairmont #Youtube

[sotwk]

I would absolutely love to hear literally any random thought you have about Eomer or Boromir.

Hee! What a wonderful Ask! But oh my goodness, this is a little tricky because just thinking of either of those two kind of torches what few brain cells I have left because they're just so... you know. ;)

I do have timeline notes for these two wonderful Men because I'm finally starting my multi-chapter fics for them. However, I don't want to spoil anything, so lemme check what headcanon is spoiler free....

Quick Headcanon: EOMER

Eomer's military career can be summarized as follows:

Ages 12-15 - Served as squire to King Theoden

Age 16 - Accepted as Rider in the Eored of his cousin, Theodred

Age 20 - Given command of his own Eored

Age 26 - Becomes the Third Marshal of the Mark

Eomer is a prodigious soldier, often deemed the greatest Rohirrim since the days of Eorl himself. This is the result of natural (almost supernatural) talents and a fierce dedication to his country. He envisioned himself as serving as a soldier his whole life and never had any political aspirations.

Quick Headcanon: BOROMIR

Book canon states that Boromir had little interest in taking a wife because he was too preoccupied with learning the ways of warfare so he could protect his beloved City. This certainly was true when he was younger, because settling down wasn't a priority in his mind.

But I also headcanon that young Boromir was a "good soldier" a.k.a. good at taking orders. This was part of why Denethor loved him so much; he didn't deviate from "The Plan". Basically The Plan was to inherit the Stewardship and rule Gondor after his father. Oh, and he was going to marry and have kids and continue the prestigious bloodline.

Denethor assigns his sister-in-law, Ivriniel, to find a good match for his son for whenever the right time came.

Good Soldier Boromir says, mindlessly: "Yeah, okay, sure. Whatever, Auntie." He was ready to do as he was told and just let them pick his "perfect" wife for him.

But then he did the unthinkable and fell in love. With a commoner. A commoner with a far-less-than-ideal background.

That's not THE PLAN, Boromir! You're not supposed to have opinions!

And you can bet Lady Ivriniel is gonna make a damn good impression of Lady Catherine de Bourgh when she finds out and it's gonna make for some Austen-ian drama.

(All this coming in the Boromir fic I have in the works.)

Tagging just a few fans who might be interested: @scyllas-revenge @ass-deep-in-demons @hippodameia @hobbitwrangler @konartiste @emmanuellececchi @thetempleofthemasaigoddess @heilith @absentmindeduniverse and I'm sure I've missed people but like I said my brain cells are probably fried from thinking about these two. XD

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

#sotwk answers #eomer #boromir #eomer headcanon #boromir headcanon #tolkien #lotr