#lotr: prologue

[tiberius-kirks]

I feel like I don't see people talking about this very often, so:

*broadly speaking

**the ring GOES east

#lotr #lord of the rings #genuinely hoping that some people really love the prologue but who knows #the lord of the rings

[pipe-weeds]

can I pls get some frodo smut hcs. I’d prefer if the reader was fem/afab, but I don’t mind g/n either, and also a hobbit. you can decide everything else I just want something to read there’s very few frodo writers out there😫

-ˏˋ 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐟𝐭. 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬.

✧ ˖ ° frodo baggins x fem! hobbit! reader. since the reader is a hobbit, imagine them being around frodo's height (if not shorter) for reference. cw for smut.

⋆ ˚ ✦ thanks for requesting and for your patience! apologies for the delay. small tangent, but i was also really surprised when i found out about the lack of frodo ff LMAO. i thought he'd be more popular.

Frodo is submissive-leaning.  He was a bit shy during your first time together and had little to no experience before meeting you.  However, he's immensely attentive and likes to learn from you; he constantly asks if you feel good.

The entire time, Frodo wants to make sure you’re alright.  He doesn’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.

One thing Frodo would never do is hurt you, physically or verbally.  He never wants to see you in pain, much less be the one inflicting that pain.

He loves when you're vocal and receptive to his touch, so he knows you're enjoying yourself without asking you outright.

Frodo’s vocal as well, mainly because he can't help himself.  Whenever he receives oral, he’s reduced to an incoherent mess, rambling your name while he gasps.  His hands gently tug on your hair, and his mind can only focus on how gorgeous you look in the moment.

On the topic of oral, Frodo prefers to give it than receive it.  After receiving, Frodo's always eager to return the favor and loves seeing you feel good.  He's messy when he does it, pumping his fingers inside you while watching you squirm, savoring the sounds you're making.

Frodo loves using his fingers and is great at using them.  His fingers are long and slender; they also don’t tire often.

He loves being intimate and romantic with you at the moment.  Frodo prefers positions where he can feel all of you; he likes to hold your hand and kiss you during missionary.  Usually, his pace is slow and sensual but sometimes comes off as sloppy.

Frodo loves whispering quiet praises in your ear, telling you how much he loves you and how pretty you are.  He always reminds you how much you're loved, especially when the two of you are being intimate.

Though he likes being romantic, that doesn't mean he's serious during the act.  Sometimes, he'll banter back and forth with you.

He’ll finish wherever you want, but if he had to choose, he likes coming on your chest.  Frodo’s also excessively vocal when he comes, often praising you and stammering about how much he loves you and how beautiful you are, despite being awfully out of breath.

When the moment’s over, Frodo likes pulling your body closer to his, reveling in the sweet afterglow until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

#🌱 - fics #tangent but hobbits are said to have 'long and skillful fingers' in the prologue of fotr #frodo x reader #frodo x you #frodo baggins x you #frodo baggins x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine

[fromedennn]

guys i’m trying to read LOTR for the first time and im so sorry but im just. having a hard time rn haha. i feel like im reading a history book that’s going in one ear and out the other. please help me get into it

#like please i’m still in the prologue and im so lost #for context i have never read or watched lotr or read the hobbit #mine #lotr #edit: two second after posting this i made it out of the trenches (the prologue) #hopefully i’m more into the story now…?

[tathrin]

I’ve been working on that LotR Zombie AU that I talked about a while ago, and it’s been fun! I’m actually several chapters in, and still enjoying it mightily, so I’ll hopefully start actually posting it soon but.

I keep going back-and-forth on whether or not I want to include this chapter or not. It’s pure exposition scene-setting, and while I enjoyed writing it and it was very helpful initially when I was figuring out the background for it all, it’s mostly exposition that gets covered better in other places now.

And I just can’t find a good place to insert it. I keep moving it around in between other chapters, and every time I’m like “yes, there, it fits there”...until I change my mind and move it again. So I think it might be time to just admit that it doesn’t fit anywhere, and cut it completely.

But before I do that, I figure I might as well share it with all of you:

It started, at least in Mirkwood, when the king came home. He was dead, of course; had been dead for three thousand years at that point. The world had changed so much in the years since his death that he would have barely recognized it—had he been conscious enough to see the lands he walked through. But he wasn't; he was dead.

He was Dead, and the Dead followed after.

Oropher, and Gilthawen, and Rhosslas, and Teithion, and Hebinastor, and all the others who had died with their king in the land of Mordor where the shadows lie. It started when the dead came home.

Their bodies should have rotted away to nothing long ago, nothing but the ghosts of dead faces staring up unseeing forever out of the fetid waters. They should have; but the Necromancer who had ruled that dark land, who had clawed his way out of his own grave more than once before, had left a mark on Mordor too deep to be erased even by his own destruction.

He had been a craftsman, after all, that maia once called Sauron and once called Mairon and even, once, named Annatar. He had been a craftsman, and his favorite medium was souls.

Perhaps someone should have worried more about those bodies in the Dead Marshes outside the land of Mordor. Perhaps someone should have worried sooner about the way their faces did not fade from the foul waters, even when their flesh was centuries gone.

Perhaps someone should have remembered that “Necromancer” had been one of the names by which he had been known, too. Perhaps someone should have remembered why.

The bodies in the Dead Marshes had drained to dust and rot centuries ago, leaving nothing but dead echoes rippling in the water. But that water lay outside a Necromancer's lair, in lands that had been long poisoned by his arts. Dead and gone they were, those Men and Dwarves and Elves and Orcs who had died fighting there so long ago; dead and gone and rotting…

But even dead, the echoes of their souls endured. Trapped, corrupted, their spirits rotting from within, they endured. And, eventually, they Rose.

The Risen Dead were no army to be commanded by the Wraiths who held dominion over the ruin of Mordor now. Their unliving corpses were driven only by hunger for life, for flesh.

Many of the Dead eventually followed the smell and sound and flickering lights of a great city to Minas Tirith, and there they fell on the white walls of Gondor's great capital first in a trickle and then as a tide. By the time the city knew to shut its gates, death was already inside the walls. An army of the dead stands there now—frothing and snapping, moaning with mindless hunger—outside the walls they cannot breach, while the few who slipped inside before the gates were shut lurch and spread through the winding tiers of the city so that Minas Tirith rots from within.

Others scattered, wandering off in whatever direction their lifeless eyes turned to in pursuit of any whisper of life that caught their senseless attention enough to draw them onwards. The Dead are everywhere now, found far beyond the reach of the rotting legs of those first corpses, for their infection spreads even faster than they do: it passes silently through air and water, undetected, not strong enough to kill…but inescapable, too. Now those dead who die in Middle-earth by other means Rise as well, and they spread the infection ever onwards in a growing wave of corpses and moans.

But Oropher…Oropher came back to Mirkwood.

Some said it was Dol Guldur looming like a lodestone, drawing the Dead. Others said it was because even in death, the forest still called her old king home.

Whatever the reason, he came, and Death followed with him.

Oropher came home, and the Rising began.

#or maybe i can post it as a sort of prologue chapter? #idk the first chapter is already sort of a prologue in a way so it feels redundant to do this one too #but then again this IS lord of the rings #story with a thousand endings #why not start with multiple prologues? lol #idk folks anyone have any opinions? #is this worth keeping on its own merits or should i just scrap it and move on? #kill your darlings isn't that what they say? #lotr fanfiction #lotr zombie au #zombie lotr au #my writing #my stuff #lotr

[vildo]

And it was in that moment, when Isildur, son of the king, lost his shit

#tolkien #shitpost #tumblr trash #jirt #j r r tolkien #incorrect tolkien #incorrect tolkien quotes #lotr #lord of the rings #isildur #fellowship of the ring #fotr #lotr fotr #lotr trash #lotr shitpost #lotr fandom #lotr humor #lotr prologue #incorrect lotr quotes #incorrect lotr #lotr crack #lotr movies #lotr funny

[philtstone]

besties … im doing it im starting lotr from the beginning

#just finished the prologue!!! #one million pages to go #phil.txt #ive read so many bits and chunks of it over the years and when I was twelve I got through 2 thirds straight #figured being on the verge of impulsively moving to a new city #is the right time to commit to reading lotr all the way through

[frodo-with-glasses]

Hobbit history, Aragorn

Hobbit History

If Aragorn learned about hobbit history from anyone, it would have to be from Frodo and Bilbo.

I mean, let’s be honest, if he’s gonna get any information about hobbits, it would have to be from the horse’s—or rather, pony’s—mouth. Hobbits tend to keep to themselves, and their doings and goings-on are generally of little consequence to the world at large. Of course Aragorn might know some things in broad strokes—at some point, he likely would have read in a footnote of some book of histories in Minas Tirith of King Argeleb II of the North-kingdom and his agreement with the Halflings concerning the settlement of the Shire—but information would be sparse, and many of the things hobbits would deem important about their own history would be completely unknown to outsiders.

Out of the hobbits he had the pleasure of knowing personally (he could say with all sincerity, if a bit of an ironic smile), the Baggins pair would be the best bet. Sam, though he did read and write well for his family, wasn’t terribly book-learned. Pippin rarely paid attention to his studies, if he attended them at all. Merry was more knowledgeable, but he was just as likely to share information that actually answered your question as he was to info-dump about his hyperfixation on pipeweed—on which he was a particularly good authority, if you wanted to know about that sort of thing. And then, there was Bilbo and Frodo, two old rich bachelors with nothing better to do with their lives than spend all day with their noses in books.

I can only imagine that some of those months in Rivendell—after the Council and before the Quest began—were spent with Aragorn, Frodo, and Bilbo walking in the gardens, or sitting on a high porch overlooking the valley, or huddling by the fire when it was cold and Bilbo was getting a chill, as they talked about hobbits and what they’d made of themselves in all these hundreds of years.

Aragorn would be surprised to hear that the Shire-hobbits sent some bowmen to the aid of the northern King in his war against the Witch-King of Angmar; “I have read many histories of Men,” he said, “and also the old Record of Kings, and I have heard the tallest tales of many lands, but never have I heard tell that the Halflings did this thing.”

“Well, we did,” Bilbo said with a huff. “We prefer peace, of course, and seldom go out looking for a fight, but we aren’t so fragile in a pinch, I hope you observe. Or do you think our aim is good only for darts?”

At that, Aragorn laughed. “As for darts, have beaten me soundly, my friend, and enough times that I should learn my lesson. I apologize. I did not mean to offend. If anything, I am more incredulous that such an act of valor should go without thanks or record from the Men of the North.”

“Well, that’s no surprise!” said Bilbo with a grin. “We’re used to being overlooked. Comes with the height, I suppose.”

Of course Aragorn would be very interested to hear about the Battle of Greenfields and old Bullroarer Took, and about the Thain and the Mayor and the general structure of power in the Shire (or lack thereof), but he was also interested in the little things—what Frodo and Bilbo called “family history”, and the invention of golf, and the gossip and rivalry between the Tooks and Brandybucks, about which he asked many intelligent and altogether too serious questions.

He had two motives in this, of course. The first—and the strongest—was that he wanted to know more about his new friends, and learning about their mundane and colorful history was an excellent way to do that. The second—less personal, but no less important—was to do his homework concerning this settlement of halflings that was, technically, still within the jurisdiction of Isildur’s line.

When he became King, he issued a proclamation that no Man should ever enter the Shire, and that it was a Free Land under protection of the Crown. When he came to visit his friends in the year 1436, he did not step beyond the Brandywine Bridge—even a King must honor his own edict, after all—but before he left, he did press a sizable purse of gold into the hand of the Mayor (that is, of course, Sam Gamgee).

“See to it that the best of your histories, and Frodo’s book, are copied by your finest craftsmen,” he said. “Your people have made for themselves an honored place in the history of our world, and so your stories deserve a place in the library of kings. This ought to cover all expense, and if there be any left over, keep it as a gift.”

Sam’s eyes went wide for a moment—the sum could have bought all the property in Hobbiton twice over!—but he was a little older and a little calmer than he was when he first traveled with Strider, so instead of a long string of exclamations, he simply clutched the purse to his chest and promised, “I’ll make every cent count, Strider. They’ll be the most beautiful books you’ve ever seen; save the ones the Elves keep, maybe.”

The work took years, but Sam would only deign to hire the best. Years later, when Sam travelled to Gondor with Rosie and Elanor, he had in his little wagon—wrapped carefully in cloth, and packed in water-tight chests—a beautiful little stack of books, bound in leather, dyed brilliant red and blue and green, with gold corner caps and satin bookmarks and woodcut illustrations on the inside pages.

Those books were kept in the royal library in Minas Tirith, and tended as long as their keepers could maintain them, and painstakingly copied for years long after the hands that made them had passed away. It was exactly was Aragorn would have hoped.

After all, hobbit history was Middle Earth’s history too.

WORD ASK GAME!

#word ask game #aragorn #bilbo baggins #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #meanwhile on ‘fics i had to write with both the prologue and the appendices open’ #have you ever written something and then thought ‘UGH i wish that was real ‘cause now i WANT IT’?? #‘cause that’s how i feel about those books sam made for aragorn #i am attracted to pretty books with a fervor that approaches lust #a copy of lotr that was actually made by hobbits and looks like THAT?? YES PLEASE YES YES YES #WOULD KILL FOR THOSE BOOKS TBH

[raspberryzingaaa]

Andy Serkis vs Robert Inglis Lotr audiobook fight gets won INSTANTLY because Andy does the Prologue and Robert doesn't

#nia post #uhm prologue is an important part i need to understand the socioeconomics of hobbits first OKAY #lotr

[velvet4510]

#red book #thain’s book #the shire #gondor #pippin took #lotr prologue #lotr appendices #lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr books #lord of the rings #elanor gardner #fastred of greenholm #samwise gamgee #merry brandybuck #faramir took #goldilocks gardner #lotr poll

[anonymwlw]

This is such a striking difference between the book and film.

The film (rightly) compressed a lot of time, which both makes it easier to watch and understand, and gives you that sense of urgency (we're not waiting for a set date to leave, we need to move NOW). They also show you what's up with Gandalf instead of having him talk about it later (also a valid choice).

But I had almost forgotten the uncertainty that comes with Gandalf not showing up when he said he would. Asking yourself "What the hell happened to him?" and feeling with Frodo, who was counting on Gandalf's guidance and now has to somehow go on this journey alone.

#lotr newsletter #well not alone because sam's coming as well #but you know what i mean #no one who knows what they're doing once they're out of the shire #i realize I'm ranting way more about the 1/2-sentence updates than about the entirety of the prologue and birthday combined #but those spoke for themselves. this is tense.

[lotr-fanatic-1]

A Tale of Sacrifice

Prologue: A Dream

———————————————————

Warnings: None

Word Count: 904

Synopsis: None

Author’s Note: This is an isekai based fan fiction following two main insert characters, one plays as the more prominent main character (Y/n) and another playing the lesser main role (Bf/n). The main plot will follow Peter Jackson’s rendition so there will be no Tom Bombadil, I apologize ahead of time. Furthermore, as of writing this I have only made it halfway through the Silmarillion so feel free to correct me on anything I get wrong, thanks! Finally, I will be adding more characterization to characters who have little screen time, so tell me if they end up being a bit too OOC. With that out of the way, this story is just for fun and practice, so please enjoy.

Finally, characters, settings and so on so forth are not my own (there will be some OCs later on) and belong to whoever has the rights to Tolkien’s source material. This includes Warner Brothers for Lord of The Rings/The Hobbit, The Tolkien Estate for the Silmarillion, and more for other works not by me.

———————————————————

There was a distant tune hidden behind a cloak of darkness, something warm and bright fighting against a swarm of ice creeping into her bones. It echoed throughout the void in warning, a somewhat threatening tone behind the beautiful sounds.

Despite that, it never ceased its chants of hopes and dreams.

The choir sang louder and louder, a symphony of voices so heavenly she would have thought she was in paradise. But the cold pushed harder until it overpowered and engulfed her being in a deadly embrace.

No longer was there a song, nor a theme to keep the maiden's mind from wandering into nothingness. And in oblivion she stayed until time became a fleeting feeling.

Then in an instant, swift and welcoming, a light took her by the hand and dragged her from suffocation. Her eyes opened and she gasped, air rushed into her lungs like sweet sugar while sunshine pierced her irises. The helping hand disappeared, forcing the girl to scramble out of the unyielding darkness that begged for her return. But she wouldn't, darkness was not what she desired.

So the woman continued to fight and claw and thrash until the shadows retreated for another battle. Only then could she finally breathe again.

Lifting up her heavy head and staring far into the distance, a blurry scene of gold and silver stretched as far as her eyes could see. A sea of light and beauty untold gave her a new sense of finality. As if there was nowhere more perfect for her to be.

Her chest rose and fell with heaving breaths, adrenaline still high from fending off the darkness. So she rose to her full height and allowed the breeze to whisk her away towards the light of salvation. Truth be told, the woman did not think she was dead, just in a dream unlike any other.

The winds began to speak and ring like chimes on a back porch on a breezy summer's eve. The calming streams grew in volume, their methodical trickle setting a beat for the rustling of the many trees littering her path.

Her bare feet tickled against the crisp grass as she neared the beautiful lights in the distance. It all felt so real. Even when figures began to form against the glow seemed to be real despite their imperceivable forms. Their songs each rang differently, welcoming, warm, ethereal.

Struck with awe, the woman couldn't bring herself to speak when one of the figures turned towards her, staring straight through her being. Their heavenly eyes seemed lined with feathers, and atop their head a wisp of clouds that sunk past their feet like hair. The song that danced around them was delicate and light.

"Welcome (y/n)."

The figure's hair began to rise, it would have been threatening if the smile upon their- no- his face wasn't so gentle. And his voice, a smooth rumble akin to thunder.

"H-how do you know my name? Where... where am I?" Her voice seemed so small compared to these majestic giants, nothing but a quivering and groggy mess.

"I know many things, but not enough to answer all." His figure of light shifted, and the others followed his gaze to the glow far away. "You will find answers in time, the will of Eru is only so clear."

"Eru...." The woman furrowed her brow in contemplation, why was that name so familiar? It's origin on the tip of her tongue and when she looked back up to ask the name, everyone was gone.

The sky was no longer in a golden glow, but a sickly darkness consuming all that was. A hand rose from the contaminated earth covered in the blackest armor she had ever seen. It reached out for her and she could no longer move.

With closed eyes, the maiden awaited death.

But it never came, instead, a muffled voice reverberated through her head. It got louder and louder until she opened her eyes and escaped her corrupted dream. Blinding sunlight pierced her gaze with a vengeance.

"(Y/n)! Wake up!" The voice shook her in panic. "(Y/n), you need to wake up!"

Her eyes finally adjusted to the familiar face in front of her, eyes reflecting sparks of wonder stared into her own. "Wha-?" She began, wondering how her boyfriend was with her at this moment.

"Shh! Look around!" His panicked tone was replaced by excitement and a cheeky grin. "Do you know where we are?!"

The woman stared off into rolling hills of green grass, a little farther beyond rows of farms and endless fields with strong trees. Flowers decorated the little gardens in front of small circular doors on the sides of the hills. It was almost as if she was in the Shire.

She glanced over to the young man crouched beside her in the grass. He awaited her answer with a shifting posture and goofy grin, so with a weary smile she shook her head no.

The man's grin stretched farther across his face and his eyes. "The Shire from Lord of the Rings! Just look around, there's hobbits everywhere! And-and it feels so real, you're here too, it can't be a dream!"

The look in his eyes were of starlight, bright and always looking forwards. (Y/n) smiled despite the situation and the forgotten dream, she couldn't help but fall in love with him all over again.

#lotr movies #lotr fandom #lotr x reader #lotr fanfics #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fic #bilbo baggins #Gandalf #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #reader insert #middle earth #lotr isekai #slow burn #silmarillion #prologue #a tale of Sacrifice #frodo baggins #y/n #lord of the rings x reader #manwe #melkor #morgoth #Sauron #cannon divergence #tolkien fanfiction #Peter Jackson lotr

[whats-in-a-sentence]

There is another astonishing thing about Hobbits of old that must be mentioned, an astonishing habit: they imbibed or inhaled, through pipes of clay or wood, the smoke of the burning leaves of a herb, which they called pipe-weed or leaf, a variety probably of Nicotiana.

"The Lord of the Rings: Prologue" - J.R.R. Tolkien

#book quotes #lotr #lord of the rings #jrr tolkien #prologue #hobbits #pipe weed #nicotiana #smoking #smoking pipe #clay pipe #wooden pipe

[tenth-sentence]

But there had been no king for nearly a thousand years, and even the ruins of Kings' Norbury were covered with grass.

"The Lord of the Rings: Prologue" - J.R.R. Tolkien

#book quote #lotr #lord of the rings #jrr tolkien #hobbits #prologue #the shire #fornost #norbury #ruins #grass #king

[vildo]

It began with the emerging of the great dilfs; wisest, immortal, sexiest of all beings

#tolkien #shitpost #tumblr trash #jirt #j r r tolkien #incorrect tolkien #incorrect tolkien quotes #lotr #lord of the rings #lotr trash #lotr humor #lotr crack #lotr fandom #lotr shitpost #inaccurate lotr #lotrdaily #incorrect lotr quotes #lotr prologue #lotr movies

[laufire]

At length they came to a halt before an unseen opening that led to the lower gates of the mines, on the eastward side of the mountains. There Gollum crouched at bay, smelling and listening; and Bilbo was tempted to slay him with his sword. But pity stayed him, and though he kept the ring, in which his only hope lay, he would not use it to help him kill the wretched creature at a disadvantage. In the end, gathering his courage, he leaped over Gollum in the dark, and fled away down the passage, pursued by his enemy’s cries of hate and despair: Thief, thief! Baggins! We hates it for ever!

The Lord of the Rings: Prologue III Of the Ordering of the Shire

#no idea if i'll stick to it till the end (of the whole prologue i only found this section engaging tbh) #but it'll be an interesting experiment nonetheless #talking to the void #books #quotes #lotr newsletter #lord of the rings #lotr daily

[irisesindigo]

i started reading lotr to my siblings last night

#we have got #to the first prologue !!!!!! #lmao #theyre simultaneously reading the hobbit with our mom #we were supposed to wait for them to finish but i got impatient i wannu read lotr #no i have not read it before #thursdays thoughts #thursdays tolkein arc