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lillianofliterature · 2 years

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Hi Lillian! If your preferences are still open, could I please request a preference for what the LOTR Fellowship think of a modern woman appearing in Middle Earth and developing feelings for her? Thank you!

LOTR PREFERENCES || 3/?

a/n: hi, love! thank you for your request! I’m delighted to do it! 💚 Sorry it took so long to get back to you, I’ve been working on this on and off since it was sent in to be sure I wrote a good amount for every character (although my favoritism is palpable, oops). I would get through 1-2 characters and then my brain would shut off for a while. Very convenient of it. ¯\_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

if gifs are not sourced, they were found ages ago on Google and have sat dormant in my gallery since. if they’re yours, lmk and I will credit or remove them!

some of my preferences are written like imagines, some are written like headcanons. this particular request fits the headcanon format best!

each character varies in length (I mean, some of them have A LOT and I hope you don’t mind, I just like to include everything I think of for headcanons!) and some ideas or descriptors may have been repeated a few times due to there being so many of them! On this particular request, it was so hard to make everyone’s unique because they’re all so kind and good? I feel like everyone would just dote on you and take care of you in their own way? I hope they’re unique enough!

I do my best to keep them gender-neutral for everyone! <3

warnings: repetitive ideas I’M SORRY I TRIED I PROMISE, some injuries and light gore mentioned, mental health issues implied (depression, anxiety, etc.)

(preferences below the cut-off)

| how they would react to developing feelings for someone from the modern world

aragorn | word count: 1.3k+

Aragorn was no stranger to forces of magic and otherworldly power he didn't quite understand, as he was exposed to such truths all of his life, so he wasn't as untrusting or suspicious of you as some of the other folks of Middle-Earth might be to someone claiming to be from another realm of a far advanced make and age.

He wouldn't develop feelings for you right away, he's the slow and steady sort who must get to know and become familiar with someone before even entertaining fonder, sweeter thoughts, much less full-fledged feelings. But you did have that mysterious air about you, being a stranger to his world, the era and its customs, and he always wished to understand you from the moment Elrond had introduced you to each other. You were intriguing, to say the least.

To be fair, you were slow in trusting people completely, just as he was, so your path in developing feelings for each other was equally stubborn and forgiving. He believed your story, of course, about how you'd come from another land that was quite different from his own, about the strange humming you'd heard one night and the stinging you felt in your toes and fingertips, about how you'd ended up in a forest somehow and had followed the Ford of Bruinen into Rivendell.

He was the first person to truly believe you and not just try to assuage your questions and anxieties passively. He made a point to validate that you weren't crazy or dreaming it up; he did everything he could to help you feel grounded and understood. Aragorn was humble enough to admit he didn't understand everything—and that he especially didn't have to understand something in order for it to be true.

At Elrond's request (and largely due to his own curiosity), he'd agreed to help you learn about this strange new world and its history and customs. Why he'd been tasked above any other elf of intelligence in Rivendell to be your guide and tutor, he hadn't the faintest idea, except for the fact that perhaps since he traveled more than those who dwelled comfortably in the elven lord's domain, his experiences might be of more value than knowledge gleaned solely from literature and speeches.

He was quizzical about the strange things you would do, the habits you admitted were hard to break. Such as how you would rub your knuckles against the wall by every door frame when you entered a dark room, presumably looking for "light switches''—and the way you searched for "buttons and knobs" when you entered a kitchen and asked if there was such a thing resembling a "refrigerator" or an "icebox" in this world. Whatever phantom switches and objects you were after, he found it amusing to see you chastise yourself for looking for things that weren't there in Middle-Earth. (But he also realized it must be difficult to enter a realm where nothing is the same and everything is new to you, even down to the most basic aspects of daily living.)

There was also the way you were afraid to drink from rivers and skeptical of sleeping on the ground and accepting food from people you hardly knew and constantly asking what it was you were eating or if it was cooked all the way through. He knew there was some wisdom to caution, but your caution seemed extreme, which made him wonder what sort of world you hailed from that food and drink could not be trusted and one would not be accustomed to natural resources and living off the earth.

He never once made you feel silly or cowardly, though, for whatever you discovered or worried about that made you feel squeamish. He merely taught you his own ways with generous patience; he taught you to hunt and forage, how to protect yourself from insects and parasites with herbs and salves, to trim your hair with shears, and use a specific type of tree branch to clean your teeth (you couldn't just pick up any stick on the forest floor, you know), and how eucalyptus was especially soothing for the scalp when washing your hair (so long as the water wasn't too cold when you rinsed, which you learned the hard way after bathing in the river after he concocted something resembling shampoo for you).

He'd been the one to hold you that night on your travels across lands (an idea Elrond had had to get you used to the world you'd been brought into, teaching you with firsthand exposure or something of the sort) that you'd finally broken down into tears after weeks of trying to make sense of your predicament. He'd sang to you in his elvish tongue until you'd fallen asleep in his arms under the warmth of his furs and winter coat. You missed your family, your friends, and some of the beauties and conveniences of your own land. People and things he couldn't replace. He did his best to calm your aching spirit. He knew what it was to miss people, to ache for them, to reach out and not find them reaching back, to not feel your mother's warmth any longer–no matter how much you longed for it.

It was that kind of sweetness, how in touch he was with his emotions and how readily he extended his compassion, that made you realize how special of a man he was.

And after months of helping you along in Middle-Earth and watching you blossom and grow with the changing seasons, essentially becoming part of his world, Aragorn began to feel deeply towards you. Not just his protective instinct that he'd developed for you since he'd been your confidante and ally since your arrival (he once compared you to a fawn just learning to walk in the afterbirth or a little bunny hidden away in a burrow that he had been tasked with - and obliged - to help grow and adapt) (all until you asked him to stop comparing you to wild animals), but also these funny little bouts of fluttering in his stomach and an innate need to be near you. The reprieve your mere presence gave him. The pure happiness your eagerness to learn and understand him and his world offered him.

It would be difficult for him to act on those feelings at first because the last thing he would want to do is add more pressure or discomfort to your already convoluted burdens. But when he did, after weeks of pining for you and feeling himself smile (momentarily free of any heavy thoughts or worries of his own that often tugged that smile flat) after your many failed attempts to mimic or poke fun at him for his quiet, mysterious "Strider" persona.

Luckily, Aragorn was not alone in his feelings, and his only regret was not telling you sooner.

Neither of you knew if your returning home was a possibility or not, nor especially how such a thing could even be done, but he hoped that the day would never come when you would disappear from his life. It wasn't that he wished you never to return home to your loved ones and your comforts, but that he needed closure of his own. He needed warning in order to prepare himself to lose you if he was fated to–not that any amount of preparation can teach someone how to nobly lose their soulmate. Or perhaps he needed at least enough preparation to follow you into that world if he was ever given the chance.

And if you were to stay in Middle-Earth until the end of your days, he vowed to help you in whatever endeavors you faced, as long as he could be by your side for every one of them. He would gladly go on teaching, guiding, and needing you.

boromir | word count: 1.8k+

Boromir was definitely skeptical of you, not only because of your sudden appearance in his father's city, but also because of your explanations to their inquiries of who you were, where you were from, and how you had come to enter the steward's palace without having alerted any guards or centremen were never quite believable. It seemed as though your answers just brought on more questions, which only made his father's temperament even more fragile than normal.

For his father's sake, Boromir would take over the situation, reprieving him of any responsibility of having to deal with the "nuisance of a wench" that Denethor, Steward of Gondor, had so politely referred to you when you didn't admit to his accusations of your being a spy from Edoras or some sort of conspiring assassin having come to usurp his throne (because you weren't one and in light of your very sudden and confusing teleportation into an entirely different realm, couldn't care less about some rickety old man on some throne you didn't even know about, much less want)

(which you told Boromir to his face once he'd come to visit you in your holding cell to interrogate you further).

Your relationship was a rocky start, to say the least. There wasn't torture involved or anything, you were kept fed and hydrated from within your cell, and the cell itself was much more quaint living space than the stuff of dungeons. The door even had a lock on the inside to ensure your privacy as an individual, although there were guards placed outside the door and the windows were too narrow and too high to even see out of, much less clamber out of to escape further out into a world you didn't understand. In all actuality, as the hours wore on and no one came to remove your fingernails or dunk you in a barrel of icy water until you spoke, you began to realize that the steward's son–Boromir, you think it was–had most likely placed you in the guest or servant's quarters. There was no way that this room, furnished with a single bed, a vanity, a well-stocked bookshelf, a wardrobe, and even a small washroom was in any way dungeon quality. Where was the hay all over the floor? The rusty cell bars? Mice scurrying over your feet? Mushrooms and mold growing in damp corners?

So, had he lied to his father? Gone against his orders to let you rot in a cell for your lying impotence and instead given you room and board?

As the next day dawned and Borormir came to speak with you privately, he was an entirely different person than what you'd expected from your brief encounter in the throne room. Out from his father's scrutinous and demanding gaze, Borormir was much more agreeable and even somewhat patient. He wasn't quick to condemn you as a liar or some manipulative traitor, although he obviously still did suspect it. He was commanding, but he wasn't dominating.

In short, romance wasn't even on the map for either of you due to the circumstances of your meeting. No one falls in love with the man interrogating them for days on end about losing everything they ever had in an instant, about walking into an old alleyway back home to escape the rain, only to find yourself walking into the halls of some grouchy old steward who accuses you of treason and attempted murder. And no one falls in love with the person skulking through their father's halls unannounced and dishing out insults to that said father and kingdom at first glance, wounding their pride and dignity in one fell swoop.

In fact, he'd even chastised you for speaking ill of his father.

"You mean the man who just called me a nuisance? And a wench?"

Your pension for being very...communicative despite speaking to the son of the steward shocked him to say the least. Boromir wasn't used to being spoken to with such reignless freedom—especially not from strangers under lock and key.

He apologized for Denethor's crass and demeaning insults. You wouldn't have accepted his apology if it hadn't been for the forlorn sincerity in the man's eyes when he explained that his father was a changed man–and not for the better. Regardless, he asked that you respect the steward and his position of power, but even more so, respect that he is his father and he couldn't tolerate ill words being spoken about him.

You agreed to speak no such insults in his presence out of respect for Boromir in return for the patience and hospitality he'd shown you, but you made no vow to be tolerable of Denethor himself. He found that agreeable.

As the questions wore on and your answers remained much the same, Boromir realized that this story you kept explaining, about the alleyway and the rain, the smell of the bakery across the street, the soggy socks in your shoes, it was obviously what you believed–even if he wasn't sure if he could believe it yet. It was hard for Boromir to believe without seeing for himself. It's ye old "I believe that you believe it happened," two hairs shy of calling you crazy sort of response.

That is, until his brother gets word of the new visitor a few days after your arrival. Faramir was his name. He remembered how strange that passageway deep in the stone walls of the palace near the eastern wing had always made him feel when he passed through it. And when he heard of your predicament, he actually seemed rather aware of some sort of power or legend that once spoke of beings traveling between realms in some rare instances. Apparently, Boromir was much more trusting of his little brother. He took Faramir at his word, especially once shown several tomes and scrolls from across the ages of rare but unexplainable instances such as yours.

With Faramir's help (whom you found much more agreeable than his suspicious and impossible older brother), Boromir actually believed in what had happened to you. Not just that you thought it was true, but that such strange things do happen, things even the bravest warriors from great kingdoms cannot explain away.

When it was revealed that it did make factual sense, given your odd apparel that day you'd arrived and the baggy "sweatshirt" you'd refused to let them confiscate, the difference in your accent and dialect, the contrast to your world and Middle-Earth, how very little you understood about his kingdom and the way of basic living, you were then given a proper room in the guest housing just outside the palace courts, a few blocks from the courtyard and stories above the inner city.

You were viewed as an intellectual advantage (or at least that was how he explained it to his father in order for it to make sense to the paranoid steward to keep you nearby), given access to the libraries and studies under Boromir's supervision, and were assigned servants to help you learn to bathe without running water, how to brush your teeth without paste and a brush, how to lather your hair with only water and sweet-smelling oils and rinse within a basin, and a myriad of other daily changes you needed to adapt to. When you refused assistance beyond being taught how to live and function in his world, Boromir found it almost insulting–but it made him curious.

He'd never gone a day without servants, almost like shadows ushering about him, unseen and avoided beyond what they were needed for. He appreciated his people and had great pride for them, but your point of view (from someone of the working class) helped humble the entitled nobility woven into his countenance.

As time passed, Boromir found that it was he who took you for walks throughout the palace courtyard rather than silent guards or obedient servants under order; it was he who excitedly showed you his prized steeds and explained each of their individual personalities, who insisted that you venture into every reach of Gondor until you are as familiar with its villages and rivers as you are with the backs of your hands.

It was his idea, then, to show you parts of Gondor you'd never seen. Forests, plains, meadows, farms, and mountain passes, even the distant horizon of a vast beach shore toward the south. All of it grand, all of it foreign, all of it breathtaking. It was there, on horseback and walking through his father's kingdom, that you really saw who Boromir was. Free of armor and duties, he was just a man desperately in love with his country and his people.

He was flawed, yes. Greatly so. But then again, everyone bears flaws as much as any other person. Some are just skilled at hiding them from the world. Others use them to their advantage. But Boromir–Boromir just seemed like a boy some days when he was beyond the walls of Minas Tirith. The tours he gave you of his beloved land, free of expectation and any sense of obligation, were what allowed you to see everything differently, everything way back to the beginning, to months ago when you'd stumbled through those passageways between royal chambers.

And evidently, Boromir had started to realize much the same for himself. He wasn't one to take ladies for strolls about courtyards and offer them wildflowers that he nearly trampled under his boot; it wasn't like him to look forward to the days when he could spend his time riding into the villages and forests with company rather than being alone; it wasn't like Boromir, son of Denethor, heir to the stewardship of Gondor, to find himself lost in laughter as he tried to teach you how to start a fire without a "lighter" contraption that you were used to and watching you fail miserably into the evening hours and cursing under your breath with risqué words he'd never heard. It wasn't like him to feel such relief, to feel so light and free of his father's burdens.

But love comes when you aren't looking for it, and it often brings people together who would never have noticed one another in any other circumstance.

So maybe that's why you were brought to Middle-Earth, to Gondor, to the halls of his very home, out of all the places and realms you might've ended up in. Whatever might've happened, it must have been fate, or some destiny tied to love. For Boromir, the greatest warrior of his father's vast army, to find himself believing in miracles and accepting the truth of the unknown and uncertain–it could be little else but love. For the first time in his life, not knowing was enough, as long as it meant having you.

faramir | word count: 1k+

Your meeting would definitely be in a forest somewhere, perhaps in Gondor or somewhere you can't even pronounce when he tells you. He's with his rangers, scouting and securing the borders of his country–but truly, his purpose for being all the way out there was to be far away from his father to drown out his disdain and favoritism.

The way you would meet would provide him with comical relief somehow, I just think that's something that would give your relationship such a different beginning than all the other people in his life. Not bound by blood or duty, just victims of circumstance, although he wouldn't want to say he was any sort of victim in having the privilege of meeting you.

He would be knelt by the river, scooping crisp water with his hands and sipping it as his men are some ways down the bank, offering him a moment of silence and reprieve from his own duties. His men, the rangers he lead as their captain, were more than just his "Inferiors" (as his father put it), they were his friends and most trusted advisors. They weren't sworn to serve Faramir, son of Denethor, younger brother to the great warrior Boromir, only because duty and station required it of them. They were both fond and loyal to him, to his humility and wisdom, to his feeling nature. His strength was different but no less honorable. So when their captain wandered off alone, they knew him well enough to give him space.

Although, that's not exactly what he would get.

One moment, you were on the hiking trail you'd taken near your local park for the scenic terrain and perfect reading spots when suddenly the trail had twisted in a way it hadn't before until it had completely disappeared from beneath you in the rapidly appearing overgrowth. Now in a forest you didn't recognize, with panic and anxiety pulsing through your body, running back the way you'd come from in desperate search of the trail you'd been vigilant not to wander from.

That's when Faramir hears the rustling in the forest behind him, he stands as he shakes the water from his hands and poises his bow, knowing his men would never rush him unexpectedly while in the wild (and they weren't even in that direction as far as he knew from where he left them). Before the poor man can react, your bodies collide as you appear out of the thicket and slam into him. I mean, you absolutely take this man out.

You'd both crash in a heap by the river, sliding down the bank and into the shallow edges of the freezing water. Your comfy tennis shoes? Sopping wet. His cloak? Might as well hang it on the laundry line next to the linens.

You'd scramble to your feet, still rushing from adrenaline, while he'd take his time getting up as he rubbed the sore spots you'd brandished him with. With one look in your direction, he'd do a once over and a double-take, completely befuddled by your apparel and whatever reflective material your tight leggings were made of. Not to mention the strange device in your hand with a long cord dangling from its end and the sack of books that had tumbled into the damp dirt at the river's edge.

Once he regained his footing with an adjustment of his jaw and posture, he'd be bombarded with your frantic questions of where you were, where the trailhead was, if his "phone" device had any cell power (whatever that meant, he hadn't a clue) or if he was a "LARPer" based on his apparel (which, mind you, he had several questions about your very strange clothing of choice as well). Simply put, you were quite confused by one another.

Much akin to how he would be of aid in Boromir's version, Faramir would be adamant in his studies and knowledge of many mysteries and forces in his world, from long ages past. He was quite the scholar, given his neglected childhood. He would at first be skeptical of your explanation, but it wouldn't take him as long as his brother to believe you. Faramir could sense things about people, he had that sort of discernment that helped him know whether people were honest or insincere. And you were honest.

He would be very empathetic to your situation. He would offer himself as a guide and a protector, teaching you gradually how to arm yourself in the wild during the long trek back to his home of Minas Tirith. Once there, you would be kept out of his father's reach and safely somewhere you could be comfortable and adjust to the changes of his world.

Apart from being a very mature aide to you in your time of crisis, Faramir would be as excited as a kid in a sweet shop. Your presence in Middle-Earth, the circumstances which brought you to him, were absolutely incredible. It was as if his whole life sort of made sense—all the hours spent with his head in the clouds and books upon books flitting through his hands as a young boy and into adulthood, it had all prepared him for you. This fantastical miracle that came hurling at him by some stream in the eastern forests and defied any and every law of science and physics he'd ever been tutored about.

Over time, once his feelings matured into something more than honorable duty (and giddy curiosity), he'd be absolutely devoted to you. He would spend his life trying to find the answers you needed, even if it meant finding a way for you to get home, despite how much he wanted you to remain in his life. He would cross seas and brave mountains to seek out others who knew of anything like your situation, he would risk himself to keep you safe.

Faramir would do absolutely anything for you, at all times, with the utmost sincerity and adoration from the deepest parts of himself. He would vow himself to you and leave you no room for doubt or insecurity.

eomer | word count: 800+

Eomer, Lord of the Mark and future King of Rohan, would definitely place duty above curiosity and emotion when first meeting a stranger claiming to hail from another much different world completely unrelated to Middle-Earth in its entirety. Albeit a respectful and honorable man, he would have his suspicions about whether or not your predicament was at all possible. And if possible—that was a big if—he would doubt your sincerity (if it had really happened or not). He's the type to need proof and evidence so he can work out how to respond and execute a plan of action. He wasn't one to meddle with ancient powers and mysterious magic—he was a man of law and combat.

What you don't know for the first few weeks, though, is that there's a reason behind his doubt and scrutiny of you, his blatant distrust and sheer callousness. He'd seen what the dark powers of wizards and warlords had done to his uncle Theoden. He'd witnessed firsthand how it had torn his family apart, stricken with grief and remorse. His sister had been plagued and stalked by one such man who was an ally to such dark arts. Magic and powerful entities had never brought Eomer or his people anything good.

Eventually, when you learn about all of this, you're more compassionate to his point of view and not so frustrated with him for being so darn suspicious all of the time.

However, despite his reservations about your situation, that would not affect his efforts in helping you (after you've been ruled out as a threat). You would never be treated like a prisoner or an enemy, nor as any sort of asset or property. You were simply a traveler, a person in need, and eventually a friend to Rohan and the people that dwelled within Edoras.

Something you noticed early on was his absolute devotion to his family. Not just his lineage or his people, not solely to the crown that still sat upon his uncle's head. His sister was his closest friend (and she soon became yours as well) and there was a bond between them you had never born witness to in your disconnected world. The loyalty and affection he showed freely were quickly one of the traits of his character that attracted you to him, as well as his consistent sincerity—there was never a word uttered from his lips that he did not mean or a promise that he failed to keep. He spoke with bluntness plainly, you never had to solve any riddles or secrets. There were never any tiresome games. He just was. The "once loyal, always loyal" sort of person.

And as someone used to a world full of people more concerned with themselves rather than those they claim to love, it's refreshing.

Because of Eomer's need for proof and evidence to be able to believe and understand things that were presented to him, your relationship was also rocky at the start. Yes, you knew he was trustworthy and you felt safe under his care as his sister showed you the ways of their people and clothed you in their garments. You knew no harm would ever come to you as long as Eomer kept watch over your wellbeing. But there was the disconnect between you where emotions and souls come into play–a need for him to have faith in your story, a need to be trusted above reason and common sense.

That would be the great battle throughout your developing feelings for each other; to understand and accept each other and your very different origins. It would be that discourse and the eventual change of heart that would convince Eomer he was in love with the one person who had appeared wandering aimlessly across the Riddermark. And when he was able to accept the heavy truth that you spoke—that not only were the myriad of powers and mystics of his world very real and prevalent, but there was another realm far beyond his own—it would not only prepare him for the throne he would one day succeed, but open his heart to the reality of love itself. That there is more beyond honor and duty, beyond loyalty; there is love, devotion of the heart, and the binding of one soul to another.

Truly, your crossing into Middle-Earth was more than mere chance. It was the dealings of fate, the weaving of a tapestry that spans beyond lands and stars, that brings union and contentedness to those it touches.

To Eomer, you would become more than a dangerous risk or a misunderstanding or a wearied traveler between lands. You would be his life source in a more intimate way than even what he had always known with his family–the love of one's life is one incomparable to all else. His fierce loyalty that you'd observed since your first meeting had become an unsplintering shield. You were now bonded by that same sort of unwavering devotion.

eowyn | word count: 800+

Eowyn, Lady of the Mark, would react much like her brother at first. Suspicious and protective of her people, she would do all she could to ensure that those around you were taking all precautions necessary when you are first brought before the throne. She wouldn't take as long to come around to you as Eomer would, however. She was more prone to trust people and offer them a chance to prove themselves.

You see, Eowyn has a sense about people. She could always read them like an open book, whether they meant to be read or not. And you? Well, she had a feeling you were a good book. Shrouded in mystery and understandably met with fear at first by most of her kin, Eowyn would be the first person of her people to reach out to you as an individual after the initial shock of your sudden arrival and concerning origins.

She'd be the one to bring your meals and stuff extra pastries under the napkin for you (she'd conceited her brother and his men to allow you a room with humble furnishings rather than a cell until they were sure you would not pose a threat) and offer up small talk as best she could. Eventually, though, that small talk turned into stories and memories shared between two fast-growing friends. You told her all about your world, about your home, about the technology and amenities you missed, about the pretty lights of the city at night and the twinkling strings of lights decorating your bedroom walls.

"They're like little bursts of fire within tiny shards of glass, led along a wired string of sorts", you'd tried to explain. You loved the way she listened to your every word, her smiles growing bigger and her eyes reflecting the warmth of the hearth.

You told her about your family and friends and some of your most memorable moments with them. Several of which derived a very contagious laugh from the fair Lady of the Mark. "Tell me more about your homeland!" She would exclaim, offering an encouraging nudge to your knee.

She would spend hours helping you adjust in whatever way you needed. Didn't know how to brush your teeth the medieval way? No problem; Eowyn walked you through the steps. Kept burning your fingertips while trying to light the lanterns and oil-glazed candles? She'd show you how she got around that herself as a child. Wonder what it would be like to fight like the soldiers training in the yard? Eowyn would teach you better than any man could.

You'd always wondered what it was like to experience that best friends to lovers sort of romance—and that's exactly what you found in Eowyn. Although her protective loyalty had set a boundary between you for the first week or so of your unexpected arrival, that loyalty was soon extended to you. She'd be the first person you would really trust, the one you would call for when your dreams turned sour or your loneliness weighed too heavily in the night. She'd be the one who would lead you around Edoras, showing you the beauty of her home and people. She would teach you to bond with your own horse and train you well to become a proficient rider yourself.

The horses (and Eowyn, of course) were really what made you hesitant to ever leave this realm called Middle-Earth if you could. Rohan, their whole culture, was surrounded by the rich history and generous communion with horses. Everything here was tied to legend or powers beyond humanity's limited understanding—but everything was beautiful and enchanting. Their ancestors resided in great halls of kings in the stars. Everything about these people was so rooted in family and kinship. You'd never known anything like it back home.

People in Edoras were kind to each other, save the occasional drunkard. And Eowyn—Eowyn was the brightest star among them all. Compassionate, loyal, and brave. Those were the words you thought of when she came to mind (which was more often than not).

It wouldn't be long after becoming best friends, perhaps a few months, that you would feel things slightly shift between you, and she, you. You wanted more of Eowyn. More hours spent riding together across plains of tall grass and wildflowers. More evenings unraveling the debris of the wind from her unkempt golden hair. Eowyn wanted to share with you her greatest secrets and desires, her darkest fears. She wanted to sleep alongside you, her hands entwined with yours, to ward off the nightmares she often suffered. Eowyn found herself always in want of you; your voice, your presence, your scent. You become her comfort.

No matter how harrowing your appearance had been and the implications of other worlds beyond hers—Eowyn would never once wish that the fates or ancestors hadn't brought you to her across realms. You were everything she'd needed and yearned for in a friend and a partner her whole life, just for someone to see her and hear her.

You'd become everything to each other.

elrond | word count: 1.1k+

The Lord of Rivendell would be no stranger to mysterious visitors happening upon his halls unannounced. In fact, he'd begun to think it almost routine at the rate hobbits, dwarves, and all manner of beings showed up on his doorstep. But there was definitely something different about you, the visitor who claimed to hail from another land—no, you clarified, not just another village or region; another world.

Where cars and trains and buses rattled the bones of the earth and ushered time and society forward at a harrowing speed. Where kingdoms and governments warred endlessly and stars were a rarity to see above the lights of growing cities.

He would be interested in this "advanced" world of yours and desired greatly to learn more about its vast variety of life—but not as much as he was interested in making sure you were acclimating to such a drastic alteration of life itself.

He would be wary of you, due to his wealth of knowledge on all manner of strange magic and ill-boding omens (do you know how many peddling sorcerers and distasteful necromancers this man has had to turn away at his doorstep?). However, Elrond would be much more hospitable from the very beginning than any of his kin. He wouldn't be as off-standish or suspicious of you—at least, not to your face.

You would be given lodging and hearty food almost immediately rather than a cell and modest portions, as well as a servant-guided tour of Rivendell and access to most of the beautiful city (save for the sacred archives and private chambers). He would not only meet with you in the hours he could spare each day to decipher your journey into Middle-Earth, but he would recommend several pieces of history and literature to get you acquainted with the customs and cultures around you. He would let you into the library at any hour you needed, even in the wee morning hours when you couldn't sleep.

A gentleman through and through, your experience with him would be much different than with any other host you might have stumbled across.

He would be undeniably patient as you're thrust into an entirely different way of living in every possible aspect, down to the very brass tacks of human nature. It feels like you're having to be raised again, like how children are taught to take care of themselves and understand the way things and people around them work and operate. There is never a grievance expressed or muttered from him as you excelled with some aspects and struggled through others.

His graciousness and soft-spoken wisdom were just the cusps of how intelligent and tender-hearted the kind elf truly was—all of which you would come to know well when he had had plenty of time to adjust to you. His introvertedness would definitely be a bit of a stunt in the development of your relationship from acquaintances to romantic partners.

He wasn't one to speak just to engage in conversation and keep busy; he only spoke if he truly had something worth saying. That of course makes it difficult for you to try to communicate beyond discussions about your unprecedented situation. But if you asked a question or politely pressed for conversation, he wouldn't deny you his attention either. While this leaves you being the one to strike a majority of the conversations between you (outside of his devoted interest in learning about your situation), you don't mind all that much. You could push through your own social anxieties as long as the person was receptive and open to engagement, and Elrond certainly made extensive efforts to be as much and more.

You liked his quietness, though. It was attractive in a way that made you hang onto every word he did decide to share. It gives you a sense of comfort. It's startling at first, the way you're able to trust him so fast, especially given the absolute madness of your traveling between realms themselves. Surely it was wiser to have your guard up at all times when in a strange new world with such stark contrasts to your own, right?

But you just couldn't bring yourself to doubt someone so compassionate and sincere.

All the while you're slipping fast into fonder feelings with every day that dawns over Rivendell's many waterfalls and etched forests, Elrond is slowly dissecting every thought pertaining to you as it surfaces in his mind. He had already had one great love in his life, the mother of his sons and daughter, a loving lady who had led their kin alongside him. He would feel such a heavy burden of guilt when he realizes the same patterns of infatuation and fondness start to swell over him. The same fluttering, freeing feelings that he had felt with his wife in their early years together. The same wandering of thought, despite his very disciplined nature. The instinct to return to your side when he wasn't busy, as if that was suddenly where he belonged more than in his study or his chambers.

Within a mere few months, it was Lord Elrond who was escorting you to peer at moonlit waterfalls and forests set ablaze with fireflies and starlight. It was he, rather than a servant or guard, who taught you how to mount a steed more than half your height and ride with all the elegance of an elleth. It was he who felt his zeal for excitement return to him when you dared to race him beyond the forest and across the rushing ford. It was Elrond who sat with a smile on his face as he listened eagerly to the cultures that thrived in your world, specifically the details of your own home and heritage.

Although it took time to trust his own heart enough to feel more than politeness for someone, Elrond was no stranger to love or what it felt like. That's probably what would scare him so much when he first starts to feel himself becoming attached to you—the realization that somewhere along the discussions about your homeworld and the hours poured over tomes and memories...he was falling in love again.

Another facet of your growing relationship that would shock him would be the fact that he'd fallen in love with a human? Of course, he was the most tolerant of the race of men across all of his elven kin, but even that tolerance hadn't prepared him for the day he would face the same risk of love that his daughter had faced (you know, the courtship with a human that he'd told her to leave behind for immortality? Well, now he's facing the same question, darn it). He would absolutely need the approval of his children before even making a single stride in pursuing something beyond friendship with you, something permanent (spoiler alert, they would absolutely bless your courtship).

arwen | word count: 500+

Arwen Undómiel would be very open and intrigued by your arrival, especially when she notices how out of place you seemed to be, not only among her people but with the way of life itself in Middle-Earth. It isn't until she inquires about your odd behavior (the asking about cellphones and electricity and other foreign amenities) to her father that she realizes you had hailed from another world entirely—not just another region or from somewhere beyond the mountains. Learning this, her intrigue only grows.

She was a lady who adored her people and the comforts of her home, but was not a stranger to adventure and the restlessness that accompanies a free spirit. Because of her love for exploring and learning, you're like a perfect mixture of mysterious and confusing. She might not have understood how travel between realms was at all possible, but she didn't mind not knowing. After all, many of her kin were gradually departing to the Undying Lands beyond the sea—a place that, in its simplest explanation, was a sanctuary divided from the common world of Middle-Earth. If such a place as that could exist just beyond the western horizon, then surely it was not so outlandish to think that there were even broader realms beyond that.

Arwen, as stated before, is a very open individual when it comes to expressing her feelings and saying exactly what she means. There is no loitering about wondering about this or that—when Arwen desires to become your friend rather soon after your arrival in her father's halls, she does just that.

She would help you adjust to things with an abundance of patience and sincere interest. She would be excited to teach you about her people and her world—about its histories and legends. But even more so, Arwen would be of even more aid when it came to helping you work through your sporadic emotions as the shock and remorse of your situation became clearer with each day. Of course it was exciting to suddenly find yourself in a world as illustrious and peaceful as this one—but there was a home, a family, and a slew of friends and interests that had been left behind without warning. She doesn't belittle or rush your grieving process, and instead becomes your confidante and place of refuge.

She would speak on your behalf to her father, about what you might need or what you were struggling to understand. She would be your voice until you were able to get your bearings and become more and more comfortable while so far from everything you once knew to be true.

In short, she isn't one to be afraid of her feelings or have any reservations of expressing them the moment she becomes aware of them for herself. Because of that kind of communication and the way she would devote herself to helping you from the very first day, it doesn't take long before she confesses that she harbors a fondness for you, like how the moon has a fondness for the sea; how her father harbored a fondness for her mother, and still does.

It's her openness and her lack of fear in expression herself that draws you both together from the first moments you share. From then, your friendship developed naturally into something of romantic permanence. As your place in her world became cemented, your place in her heart flourished with unabashed sincerity.

legolas | word count: 500+

Legolas would be very suspicious and observant of you for quite some time before even engaging with you, much like his friendship with Gimli. Already being someone of very few words, Legolas would take his time in getting to know you before having even said a word to you. He was raised to be suspicious and discerning of "outsiders"; woodland elves, specifically those native to Mirkwood, were known for their suspicion and distrust of others, even their own kin.

So getting acquainted and close to someone who's not only not an elf or from Mirkwood, but also not even from Middle-Earth itself? That's gonna be a big barrier for him to get around and it's going to take time to achieve that familiarity and comfortability around you.

But when he does—it comes from seeing how you are with his friends, such as Aragorn and Gimli. His gradual trust builds up not from interacting with you for himself, but from observing how you communicated with others and treated his friends and allies. When he's more or less sure of your character, he would then venture into becoming friends. What he doesn't expect, however, is how quickly that friendship became something so much more to him.

Perhaps because he'd been getting to know you from afar and seeing how kind and generous you were with his loved ones despite the sheer confusion and fear you must be feeling every day in his strange world. It was one thing to venture away from home in search of adventure, even among unfamiliar faces, like he had. It was another entirely to be ripped from your world and everyone you knew, away from your kin and your people, away from your family, without any sort of warning or choice. He comes to admire you and the bravery you displayed every day just by choosing to exist in his world and trying your best to become a part of it.

Then he would notice how you'd been taught to fish with just a shaft and some thin twine by Aragorn's hand. How you kept absorbing skills as though you were a sponge, desperate to cling to any sort of help. This is when he would reach out and offer you archery lessons because "everyone should learn to have some skill with either a blade or a bow. It is better if you know both—but in your case, I think we should start with one." And you chose the bow, telling him how you admired how beautiful of a weapon it was, how graceful. You'd seen it in movies and read about great archers—you'd always wanted to be one. And so Legolas, though he had no idea what a movie was, vows to make you proficient with a bow.

It's really your devotion to learning about his world, about his friends, and eventually about him that really snares him in the end. The way you refused to wither and panic within the shelter of one of many great cities in Middle Earth, but instead wanted to see the world and get your bearings, despite how obviously unsteady it often made you feel. For you, you'd not only been brought to another world, but a world that was supposedly far behind in its technology. Everything had completely changed for you and yet you still worked hard to make something good out of your predicament. It's that bravery that pulls him to you.

galadriel | word count: 300+

Someone as wise and clairvoyant as the Lady of Lothlorien would not be surprised at your unprecedented arrival across realms. She had probably (listerally) seen you coming long before your arrival (remember that magic basin of psychic water she traumatized Frodo with?). Her ability to read the minds of others offered her an immediate leeway into your intentions and sincerity. This meant that while she was still careful with you, she was well aware that you posed no threat or harm to her people.

You, on the other hand, were more than wary of her upon your first meeting. It wasn't just the shock of entering a new world that made your heart uneasy to trust—but something about the ethereal, untouchable power about the Lady Galadriel herself that left you teetering into doubt and discomfort. While her beauty and gentleness made her alluring and with time to develop that trust, your doubts faded. Her goodness and generosity proved time and time again that her power wasn't something to fear.

Something that made her so wonderful once you grew trusting of her was how much she believed you—largely due to her ability to read minds and people themselves—and never doubted your character or motives.

Hailing from a world hewn with distrust and malice, the calm pace and sincerity in which Middle-Earth (and Lothlorien especially) was governed made you hopeful for what sort of life could be made there.

With the help and generosity of your hostess, you soon considered Lothlorien your home. Not just for its beauty and its sort of magnificence that you'd never seen in your world before—but also for the lady who watched diligently over her forest and her people. In time, you came to consider her your closest friend, someone you could wholeheartedly trust with your life.

Galadriel would find your naivety of her realm intriguing and would be more than happy to offer herself as your guide. She would find your tendency for loud bursts of laughter and curt outspokenness refreshing in a culture of hushed voices and gracious tones.

All in all, you're both quite a mystery for each other to solve. Luckily, neither of you mind the adventure of getting to know one another.

haldir | word count: 600+

To say that your first meeting had also been a bit of a rough start was the understatement of the century. I mean, who would react well to having a dozen arrows poised inches from their face while trying to find their way out of an unfamiliar forest? Your fear had quickly turned to frustration and anger, despite the threat of being pierced with the polished shafts of their arrows. Your quick turn to anger stunned the very poised marchwarden—it wasn't often that intruders grew hostile when threatened at the neck. Typically, people would stare back in silence like a doe stunned by fear.

A mixture of terror, exhaustion, hunger and dehydration had driven your more cooperative senses from your caliber of responses, evidently.

After you'd recovered well enough to be questioned over a generous meal, it was very obvious you were simply lost. Very, very lost. Of no threat to his people or the sacred forest they dwelled in, Haldir would have no issue in setting his pride aside to apologize for frightening you.

Soft-spoken and introverted, Haldir would have that wall of kind politeness that was at first almost polarizing to someone who'd just had the shock of their life by entering an entirely new realm in a split second. It would be many awkward attempts at sifting through your explanations and anxious emotions before Haldir was able to gauge how you would feel more inclined to trust him. And in order to achieve your trust, he would need to let you (a stranger, mind you) break through those carefully learned guards to see the real him behind the graceful countenance and elegant sentences.

It was your desperation to find answers, to understand if you had gone mad or if something so radical could have truly taken place, that sparked in Haldir the great need to console you. Generally, elves were calm and uninvolved beings—to those not understanding of their ways, they might even appear void of emotion. But that couldn't be any further from the truth. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

As your time in his homeland spanned from weeks to months, Haldir grew more and more attached to your side. Devoted to your wellbeing, he became more of a confidant and friend than the simple guide he had volunteered to be for you at the start. The softhearted nature that flourished within him bloomed around you, finding a home to take root in.

Your knowledge and straightforwardness about what you needed at any given time, whether it was a hot bath or an audience with the Lady Galadriel herself, struck a chord of admiration with Haldir. He didn't like having to piece together the riddles that strangers often gave when they were prejudiced or distrusting. Your sincerity in such matters, no matter how embarrassing or seemingly insignificant, quite honestly inspired the skilled marchwarden. With such honesty, he didn't have to work so hard to get the answers he needed to best help you.

In return, it's his diligence in his help that draws you to him. The absolution he promised with every request he listened to—there was never a question or a need he left unresolved for you. If you'd asked for your favorite meal from your world, he'd find some way to have it made for you. If you'd gone to him in a fit of tears and in need of comfort, his arms would be the first to be open to you.

It wasn't that you were a basket case, mind you (and if you were, he'd never let you or anyone around you use such insensitive terminology for your very validated expressions of distress). It was simply that you'd never been so vulnerable and in need of someone before. And Haldir, well...Haldir had never felt so inclined to a soul before, so effortlessly devoted and tethered as if some string was being pulled taught between you.

Haldir relished in being able to be of service to you.

And you held fast to the curious needing you felt for him.

gimli | word count: 400+

From the moment he met you, Gimli knew something wasn't quite right. Sure, you weren't waving the tips of pointy weapons or spitting out slews of evil curses at people—but you were like a shard of sea glass among grey stones. Everything about your stature, the way you spoke and carried yourself, the way you interpreted the world and its people around you...it was all so different from anyone he'd ever met before.

For starters, you're much more outspoken than anyone he'd come to know. You weren't afraid to speak your mind (and even include the occasional profanity to get your point across) in any given occasion or setting, even among elven nobility. The time you practically cursed his fair-haired elven friend Legolas out was an afternoon he'd not soon forget. Especially since the whole ordeal, which he conveniently didn't recall the details of, had most definitely been Gimli's fault rather than the prince's.

He wasn't too keen on trying to understand all the details about your predicament or how you came to be in this realm of all places. Gimli never asked for more of an explanation than you were willing to give, which was something you found quite refreshing amidst a slew of people who had been asking questions upon questions since your peculiar arrival to Middle-Earth. You knew you didn't have to explain yourself to him or try to make sense of it all in order to be believed—the red-haired dwarf simply nodded through his pipe smoke and moved on.

In all honesty, Gimli hadn't thought much of you at first, the same way he didn't think much about anyone until it was apparent their paths would cross more than once. He didn't give much effort into friendships that weren't of substance, despite the loss of much of his kin. If anything, it was harder for him to attach himself to friends now than it ever had been before due to the great losses he had suffered.

But when he does get accustomed to you, it's all over for him. Once Gimli gets attached to a friend or partner, his dwarven passion for loyalty and honor kicks in. He understands you're not familiar with this place, whether that meant Gondor or Edoras or any other region beyond Middle-Earth, and that's enough for him to believe you and offer some sympathies to your situation. He was kind of the same, you know. Far from home without any of his kin left to visit or send word to.

All in all, Gimli likes your modern gumption, your fighting spirit, and that occasionally sour tongue of yours. And although it's obvious he didn't have to protect you when you were very efficient in doing so for yourself, he would gladly spend an age or two by your side offering his services as a companion—and someday, perhaps as much more, if you'd allow it.

frodo | word count: 400+

Somewhat of an expert in the joys and terrors of adventuring, Frodo Baggins would be a most empathetic and compassionate companion to have upon crossing into his realm from your own homeworld. More than anyone, he would understand the pressures of having to keep it all together in the presence of unfamiliar faces. When he had been the ring bearer, shouldering an object with the very sentience of darkness within it, the fear and desperation had nearly overtaken him as he traveled into forests and mountains he'd never ventured to before. He couldn't imagine traveling between worlds—realms of existence entirely.

He would value the trust that you placed in him, handling it with the utmost care. His skill for listening is unparalleled, as is the wisdom he offers in return for your woes.

Frodo would find your situation extraordinary and fantastic. He wouldn't be able to resist asking all of his questions and brimming with excitement about this realm of yours beyond his reach. He would, however, do his best to temper his ecstatic humoring in favor of handling your delicate situation with attention and care. He found himself reminded of the years he spent as a young boy listening to Bilbo's stories of his grand adventures with goblin kings and dwarf lords and fire drakes from the north.

Imagine hours of pouring over books and scribbled notes his uncle had left behind for him, huddled near each other by a warm fire in his home. Papers and stacks of sifted lore and myth, anything pertaining to what had brought you to Middle-Earth, littering the floor around your folded legs and shared quilt. He would dedicate himself to helping you find the answers you were looking for, even in his small corner of the world (don't worry, he has this friend who's a king somewhere out on the southern plains who would be more than happy to lend some scrolls and tomes).

To Frodo, your mere existence is illuminating. Just having you pop up in his favorite glen while he was spending his usual afternoon reading was enough for him to strike an interest in you. You were yet another adventure, living and breathing, waltzing into his life. Sure enough, you become an answer to the hobbit's dwindling hopes for normalcy, thinking perhaps he was destined to the fate of bachelorhood and haunted memories, the same as his uncle.

You show him that it is possible for Frodo to have another adventure—one that won't cost him his soul or his life. (Just maybe his heart.)

samwise | word count: 500+

Samwise Gamgee knows a fool when he sees one—after all, he'd grown up with Merry and Pippin in his circle of friends. So when he's the first to believe you out of the tale-spinners and prank-weavers of the Shire, it's a relief to say the least.

He'd invite you into his home, seeing as you were so far away from yours and had no way of going back. He would offer you his pantry, his sunroom, his best linens and finest silk nightgown. There would be afternoons of gardening and learning a trade for yourself that would both provide food on the table and a bit of coin in the markets. Sam would be more than delighted to have a houseguest to cook for, seeing as his Old Gaffer wasn't one to spice up the recipes very often. But for you, Sam would cook a feast. He'd even sit down with you and help you write out recipes that reminded you of home, meals that wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a cold day. He'd grow flowers you remembered seeing in your mother's garden.

Somehow, even so far away from your world and your home and your friends and family, Samwise Gamgee would give you a sense of home you'd never encountered before.

It was so exceedingly rare to find people so willing to lend such a selfless hand to others in need. Helping a strange person he'd never met find their way through Hobbiton was one thing—but inviting them into his home and giving them a place to stay and warm meals to eat without anything in return? Quite literally offering the (night) shirt off his back? You'd never been extended such kindness before.

When Sam realizes how much of a stranger you are to such hospitality, he would go all out with everything he possibly could. Finding it rather sad that you'd come from such a dismal world that was void of such simple acts of kindness, Sam can't help but want to display every possible act of kindness he can think of.

And Samwise found in you the purpose he'd yearned for all his life—the chance to be something for someone that no one else could, the chance to make a difference simply by being himself and doing what it is he does best. Although it was difficult for you to navigate through the differences and the culture shock of his world and his land—there was really very little to complain about when you find yourself in the Shire (except maybe those pesky neighbors who have nothing better to do than to stick their noses in your business between meals).

Eager to be at ease and belong, you are more than willing to learn all that Sam can teach you and his way of life. Your acceptance and sense of humor, joking about things he didn't quite understand (What was that you'd said about looking "at all those chickens"? Those had definitely been ducks swimming in the pond that day), worked together to win Sam's heart in no time.

It really didn't take long before Sam was fonder of seeing you disheveled in the mornings and in his borrowed nightgown than fixed up for the day ahead; for him to cherish those small domestic moments you'd both begun to share as time wore on. Before long, Sam found himself daydreaming of dances and the music of flutes and fiddles to set the pace.

merry | word count: 500+

This rascal would absolutely not believe a word that comes out of your mouth about whatever peculiar land it is you keep droning on about. Automobiles? Airplanes? Lanterns that work without fire? Portion control and food pyramids dictated by the government? What the bloody hell was all that nonsense? (Dark magic or the result of some soured Old Toby, he was sure of it.)

He'd volunteer himself to be your official tour guide to Middle-Earth, claiming he'd been as far as Mordor once (wherever that was, you had no idea) and was, therefore, the best guide anyone could ask for this side of Brandywine River.

For the longest time, Merry really thinks you're spinning tall tales about this world you came from with all these fancy doohickeys he hadn't a clue about. As someone proficient in telling exaggerated memoirs and pulling indulgent pranks, he would for the longest time assume that your explanation of origin was one and the same. Listen, he'd seen the weird stuff out there, probably as much of it as there was to see, and there definitely wasn't any Europes or Americas or Indias or anyplace else you kept mentioning.

When he's taking you on a stroll along his favorite trade route all the way to the Breelands and back home, any mention of your predicament (beyond being a lost traveler far from home) was met with a mischievous scoff and a twisted grin. Once, with a mouthful of fresh summer berry bread, he'd made such an expression of dubious skepticism that he hadn't needed to even utter the "uh-huh, sure" along with it.

He meant no harm in his teasing disbelief, of course, but sometimes the gradual accumulation of it got on your nerves. While Merry was fun, kind, and a very joyful and admirable hobbit to be around...sometimes it felt as though you were trying to convince a toadstool that its colors were indeed brown and not blue.

He's fond of you already, of course, nearly upon the moment he met you—who else was he taking on his little adventures across the many borders within the region of Eriador apart from Pippin and a batch of Old Toby?

As weeks pass and one day, his distrust in your explanations pricks a little too far beneath your skin, your bout of aggravated and fearful tears came as a shock to the hobbit. It's in that moment sat across from each other with a small campfire between you that his carefree persona faltered with guilt.

Oh, he thinks. You're telling the truth about all that.

From that moment on, he would be the most expressive and compassionate person you had ever met. He'd be sure you were getting your daily dose of sunlight and ale for the day, as well as whatever desserts or hearty meals you felt inclined to indulge. You'd become attached at the hip and wherever Merry (and usually Pippin) went, you were there with him (them). He'd already been welcoming and friendly to you, but now he had this sort of tenderness in his gaze that you thought might melt you through like a chocolate drop in the oven. And if anyone were to express the same sort of doubts or contribute to the rumor mill around Hobbiton about you, he'd put an end to it before it had gone beyond the hedges of Bagshot Row.

pippin | word count: 400+

Much like his rapscallion counterpart, Pippin's first impression would be that your whole story about arriving from another realm was a fabrication of your very active imagination. He and Merry had spun their fair share of tall tales and mischief as far and wide as the town of Bree and the little villages along the Brandywine river.

Unlike Merry, though, Pippin's reason for skepticism wasn't even so much skepticism as it was ignorance. He'd never knowingly poke fun at what you were going through, whether he thought it exaggerated or not. Pippin just truly didn't think it was at all possible for other places to exist. He really thinks you're joking or unsure of what you're even saying for the longest time.

But when Pippin figures it out after you become a sordid mess of blubbering tears over a pint of ale outside the Green Dragon Inn, he realizes everything you'd been trying to explain hadn't been a "really wonderful story" you'd been working on. It was how you'd come to be in the Shire, in Eriador, in Middle-Earth at all.

"There's no use cryin' ov'r a pint, (Y/n)! Ded someone let the barrel sour?"

You sniffled, trying to dry your eyes with the back of your hand before they were too heavy to extinguish. "It's not—it's not soured, Pip."

"Oh. Then what—?" He took a moment to understand. You'd been talking about a dog with two mismatching socks on its paws. A bedroom with fairies for lights and walls made of printed paintings. The way you'd been describing everything was almost too detailed to be off the top of your head...and then he realizes.

Pippin would buy you another pint, one untainted by salty tears. He'd do his best to listen more, although he still misinterpreted much of what you tried to explain. But it was better now, knowing that he was trying to comprehend this world of yours, rather than committing it to his memory as a tavern story.

He'd be excited to learn about what sort of drinks and food and pipeweed you had in your world and what sort of music your village danced to at seasonal festivities.

While Pippin may not be able to really grasp the extent of what you're explaining, that perhaps entire realms exist beyond the very vast one he had traveled across himself, you are reassured that he does at least believe you and understands the jest of it. And somehow, that's all you really needed—someone to just listen to what you were trying to say, to take your truth for what it was.

(Of course, this confirmation that you're really an "other-worlder" as he coined it means that he's designated himself to acclimate you to the life of a hobbit to its full extremities. This includes seven meals a day, which you're more than happy to oblige.)

TAGS: @moony-artnstuff @wellfuckmyexistence @tessaem @izbelross @bloodblossom73

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ofstardustanddreaming · 1 month

Text

well loved

preference summary: what they do to remind you you're loved.

content warnings: none

fandom: the lord of the rings

characters: frodo, sam, pippin, merry, boromir, faramir, aragorn, legolas, arwen, eowyn, eomer, galadriel, elrond (if other characters are wanted for future preferences, let me know!)

gender neutral reader

Frodo: He always checks in on you, always wanting to make sure you were doing okay. He's one of those who is more in tune with emotions, and wanting to check in on emotional wellbeing. He wants you to know you'll always have someone to lean on, and he shows you love through his active listening of your problems.

Sam: He's the type to do small tasks around the house for you, wanting to make sure you don't have to worry about anything. He sets up a routine that's nice and homey. He wouldn't have you lifting a finger if he could, wanting to make sure you can be relaxed. You would have to step in at some points, saying you'd want to split the work.

Pippin: He makes you very well included on any inside jokes, wanting to you to know what it's like. He showed his love through humorous jokes, saying he always wanted to see your smile. His love may have been shown through jokes, but he made you feel truly seen, which was a wonderful way to be reminded you're loved by him.

Merry: He loves to give you parts of his food, wanting to make sure you were well fed. He feels wellbeing is tied to being well fed, so he wants to make sure you get a fair share. And I think that Merry himself likes to try cooking once in a while, and likes to give some cooking to you.

Boromir: He always carves out time in his schedule to spend quality time with you. He always loves to have meals together with you, wanting to make it romantic, with something as simple as bringing flowers for the vase in the middle. He shows his love through any amount of time spent with you, wanting to shower you with his compliments.

Faramir: He has subconscious movements to make sure you're okay and safe. Such as holding out a hand during hikes in an area that's heavily rooted, wanting to make sure of your safety to help you balance and find your way. He also loves to place a hand on your back in crowded areas. He always has a special look of love, reserved just for you.

Aragorn: He always likes to recite poetry or songs he comes across that reminds him of you. He always gives you the softest of looks during those moments, and these moments are usually done by the fires in your room. He usually has your back against him, as he whispers them into your ear.

Legolas: He finds a variety of plants that reminds him of you, always bringing them back for you to look at or put somewhere that you deem cool. It's gotten to the point where there's almost too many flowers in your living space, but you also don't have the heart to tell him to stop. It's really sweet to see the variety of flowers he hand picked for you.

Arwen: She loves to sneak kisses from you throughout the day. She's playful, so her showing her love is through playful ways. She loves to take you off guard of when she'll kiss you, and she always loves hearing your laugh afterwards. She loves to watch you get flustered, laughing as she rushes away.

Eowyn: She loves quality time to, wanting to spend time with you. Her favorite ways to showing you love is teaching you some of her favorite moves in training. She shows you what she has learned, and also wants to learn what you know. She wants to make sure the both of you are prepared for anything, and it's a nice way to spend time with each other.

Eomer: He loves to go horseback riding with you. It provides a time where the two of you can talk in peace, where he doesn't feel the pressure of the kingdom. He loves talking with you here, where the two of you don't feel watched. It's a sense of freedom to speak your minds, but the act of horseback riding allows you to go anywhere. He loves to explore with you that way.

Galadriel: She loves turning to you for advice. She may not always agree, but she loves to hear what you have to say. She finds that hearing a variety of perspectives helps her, and she feels that it helps her get closer to you. She always likes to hear what you have to say about some decisions in how she runs her kingdom.

Elrond: He likes to spoil you, simple as that. It doesn't even have to be buying you many things, although he loves doing that as well. It can be just as well showering you with praise, or giving you his full attention, even if it means ignoring his work for a little bit. He loves at his fullest, spoiling you with many things you love.

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wordbunch · 9 months

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how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked

a/n: requested by the sweet @almost-gabrielle, i hope you enjoy it, and everyone else too - it's going to be GIGANTIC! 😍 be nice, cause I included some characters I haven't written much before (exciting!!!) and if you reblog with a comment or a nice tag... i'll love you forever! 💖 that means a lot, and i'm very grateful for all of it 🥰

ARAGORN: he actually feels like that quite often, but he’s incredibly good at hiding it. Luckily, you’re an expert in reading him like an open book, but oftentimes you need to literally physically drag him away from whatever he is doing (and he might complain as you do so). Aragorn just enjoys sometimes being quiet with you, and it’s usually what he needs when his mind is racing, or his body is overexerted. Or both. You can just lie down together and run your fingers slowly through his hair, and that will help him forget his worries at least for a little while. Secretly he is an absolute sucker for sweet, romantic confessions of love and affection, and he will melt if you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

LEGOLAS: something has to be extremely serious for him to feel that way, because his limits are very high; but in those moments he just wants to get away from everything as soon as possible and run to you, because with you the rest of the world just fades away. He enjoys an outing in nature, far away from real life, especially if the two of you find a nice lake or river to go for a swim in, and eventually act like a couple of children splashing and chasing each other. If that doesn’t help, he likes to sit in front of you and let you braid his hair as he talks about whatever is on his mind, and it also helps him physically relax to have you sitting behind and so close to him.

BOROMIR: this man will most likely push himself to his absolute limits, because he shoulders too much responsibility and feels pressured constantly to be on top of things. However, it’s easy to notice when he becomes a bit more irritable at one point, and then you know it’s time to talk him into taking at least a little break. That can be a slippery slope, because once he gets you alone for 5 minutes, it can very easily turn into 15 hours, and he would never finish anything. But on some days it’s just necessary - you sweet talk him into a cuddle session, during which he accidentally falls asleep with his head over your heart, or you make some tea with love as the special ingredient – and tell him that! He’s going to melt and finally, gratefully accept that his partner wants to look after him.

FARAMIR: much like his brother, he will probably suffer in silence, but you can’t miss his tired sighs every now and then, and the way he shuts his eyes and rubs his temples. If you hug him from behind, he will melt into your touch and lean onto you so much that you will almost topple over, but that will also make him admit to himself that he really needs a break. Run him a nice, hot bath complete with fragrant ingredients, and candles lit around it, and he will be forever grateful. If you don’t join immediately, he will very sweetly ask you to come with him because 'oh the bath is so big and so lonely' without one more person in it.

ÉOMER: this hardworking man is actually quite in touch with how he feels, both physically and emotionally, and he knows when things are becoming too much and he needs to step away for his own good. It is not unusual for him to go search for you and suggest that the two of you do something away from everyday life. Many times he doesn’t even suggest anything, he just follows behind you whatever you’re doing - taking a walk and admiring some trees in bloom? He’s right there holding your hand. Sitting on a balcony and reading? He will lay his head on your lap and ask you to read to him. And he is content just being present with you.

SAM: he gets both overworked and stressed quite often, poor thing. Make him something to eat and bring it outside while he’s working in the garden, and just have a spontaneous mini-picnic in the backyard. Although he’s very hardworking and persistent, over time he’s learned to accept your help and pampering, and he really really enjoys it too. If he is under mental stress, maybe you’ll need to push him a little bit to tell you what is on his mind, but once he does, he will gladly listen to your advice or any help you can give him.

FRODO: baby boy is in his head a lot and oftentimes he will accidentally create things to worry about, and he will just zone out. if he has a faraway look in his eyes, while doing nothing in particular, you can accurately guess what is up. He likes to feel useful, and he will gratefully accept if you ask him to help you with whatever you’re doing - it gives him an excuse to be kind and helpful, but also spend time with his favorite person. Especially if you’re organizing/re-organizing something, he will enjoy doing it with you, or cooking - he might not be the best at it, but he delights in giving you a hand, and he likes to learn and improve new skills anyway.

MERRY: he is actually much more of an overthinker than he seems to be on the outside, so stress sometimes just generates outta nowhere! Also he isn’t the biggest fan of physical labor out there, but he is a little bit of a show-off when it comes to you, and he will go above and beyond when helping you with something or doing something for you, until he can barely stand. Afterwards he will take pride in the fact that you had to force him to stop whatever he was doing, but he was simply being so very nice to his favorite person! Something he loves to do to unwind in those moments is just come up with random stories with you, the two of you taking turns making up characters and events. He is a little bit of a baby and he will just take your hand wordlessly and put it in his hair, because it feels nice when you run your fingers through it.

PIPPIN: he will either be stressing over very small, irrelevant things, or something absolutely terrible, no in-between. If it’s something small, he has no problem rambling about it to you, and that usually helps him sort things out; but if it’s something serious, he will grow quiet. The best thing you can do for him in those moments is distract him with a silly idea like “let’s go for a walk and find as many kinds of blue flowers as we can” or just straight up make him laugh - it’s the best medicine. He wouldn’t ask you directly to do it, but he’d love it if you could just hold him or cuddle him for a bit (he’s the little spoon of course).

BILBO: oh he will get worked up over a whole bunch of random things; and when he is working on something, he goes all in (and then has a random episode of doing absolutely nothing), so you need to be the one who grounds him in reality sometimes. Just don’t startle him when approaching him quietly. He is very responsive to your touch and he will just lean into you as soon as you’re near, almost forgetting about everything else. He adores it when you hold his face in your hands and he will look at you as if hypnotized while you comfortingly reassure him that everything will be alright and that he doesn’t have to do anything alone as long as you’re around.

FÍLI: he is very big on “strong protective independent dwarf” and sometimes he doesn’t fully allow himself to rest properly, or to process some things that are bothering him on the inside. However, at one point it will all have to culminate, and then his first instinct is to shut himself off. A guaranteed way to get through to him is to kiss him senselessly wherever you can reach and it makes him subconsciously relax almost immediately. He will kiss you back passionately which helps him eliminate some of the tension he’s feeling. Additionally, he will never ever say no to receiving a nice little massage from you.

KÍLI: oh he is quite proud of himself if he ends up overworking himself for you, as if it gives him bonus partner points. You will gently scold him for pushing himself too far, and then he will pout, but you know he still doesn’t regret it. Then he himself will drag you away for a cuddle session - he chose that as his reward for being the very best partner in all of Middle-earth - but you don’t have to exclusively cuddle. He finds it very relaxing if you sing something quietly to him and he will look up at you with shining eyes.

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place

@valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @sweetpea-thoughts

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tolkienimagines · 2 years

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Requested by Anonymous

#merry brandybuck #pippin took #lotr #imagine #drugs tw

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 months

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IATCOD Chap. 27; Celestial help

*Author's note*

Okay I'll be honest I've had this chapter done for awhile now but some life changing news came my way and I had to put posting on hold (don't worry it's not health wise, my family and I are moving by mid Dec. so I've been busy packing my stuff, helping move stuff to storage, etc.) But now with the thanksgiving holiday in it's final stretch, I wanted to take this moment to post this chapter up before the final stretch of my move happens next weekend. So I hope everyone had a good thanksgiving/thursday (if you don't celebrate it) and will continue to have a good rest of your weekend and hope everyone enjoys this new update as well.

NEXT CHAPTER

Face cast

Druig: Joseph Quinn

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@thats-s0-ravenn

________________________________________________________

So fair even in death, Hela’s friends and even the people of Gondor couldn’t find it in themselves to bury her. So she was placed at the highest room at the Tower of Ecthelion where she once stood guard as Guardian of the White city. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, and Gandalf all stood around her coffin of glass and silver.

No one spoke a word, for who could? There wasn’t anything anyone could say that would bring Hela back. Two lit candles were lit by the two top poles of her coffin. Gimli was torn between anger and sorrow as he stared down at Hela’s body before turning away sobbing into his hand. Legolas wrapped a comforting arm around his Dwarvish friend while tears slowly slid down his face as well.

Gandalf solemnly looked down at his old friend, the young Celestial who he had not only taken under his wing, but had also learned from her. He placed a hand on top of her still one. Poor Merry and Pippin were the ones truly heartbroken, Hela was like a mother-figure to them and got them from getting into too much trouble. They couldn’t understand how such a strong warrior like her could’ve been killed like this?

And Aragorn—he was torn. His heart torn both ways of wanting to both mourn Hela but also seek vengeance against the three council members of Denethor. He wanted to know who had cast the spell, and see with his own eyes the life drain from his sister’s killer under his blade.

Meanwhile down in the House of Healing in a secluded area of a spiritual healing pool that Hela herself had made for those in great need of healing, Haldir laid in the tub while Cain tended to his wounds.

The water glowed a pure blue light and the light seemed to shimmer as it went in circles around the perimeter of the tub, almost as if a current were pushing it. Cain held a rag in his hand and was gently dabbing across Haldir’s wounds while his other hand stroked across his body to feel what other damage had been done to him.

“This pool seems to be sensing a lot of internal damage. It can guide the healing process, but whether you get better or not is up to you.” Haldir didn’t speak a word. His face was stoic, his eyes deeply sunken in and the light from his eyes was almost completely faded. “I know what it’s like to lose the love of your life. When I awoke that day after losing my wife and children, I was lost, angry, filled with unbearable pain. And it’s okay to feel those things Haldir, but it’s not okay to keep it bottled up inside. Trust me.”

Again, Haldir spoke not a word. Cain sighed but continued with the healing until he couldn’t smell a single trace of blood and grim on Haldir anymore.

“I don’t wish to push you Haldir but I’d like you to tell me what happened over there. Perhaps there could be a reason as to why they targeted Hela.” The sound of Haldir rising from the pool and walking over to redress himself.

“There’s nothing to say.” Haldir spoke so softly it would almost sound like the faint sounds of the wind blowing. But Cain heard him.

“I understand it’s hard to talk about……”

“Hard to talk about? What is there to talk about?!” gradually Haldir’s voice got louder with pain and rage as he began to rant. “Three dark sorcerers captured me as bait to lure Hela away from the city and I watched as they beat her like a horse! She was still alive in my arms, I felt her heart beating still…..But now I’m told I was able to be saved by your teachings WHEN YOU COULDN’T EVEN HEAL YOUR OWN SISTER IN THE SAME MANNER!!”

Silence rang out in the room as Haldir glared down at Cain in fury. His chest heaving and heart racing. Cain’s surprised but sorrow-filled face stared at the grieving Marchwarden. When Haldir realized what he had said, he turned his head away and said regretfully.

“That came out wrong, I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. As I said, let the anger and pain flow like water.”

“I’m trying to understand myself just why this all happened, but none of it makes any sense. The way they fought against her it—they enjoyed tormenting her. I could see it in their eyes, they took pleasure in it. Same as when they tortured me. I—I’m lost Lord Cain. I feel so lost.” Haldir fell to his knees and could feel the stinging sensation of tears starting to form but they couldn’t fall for Haldir had cried himself to near exhaustion after he had awakened from Nergal’s attack.

“Haldir,” he felt Cain’s hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the now last of the Celestials kneeling before him, his glowing eyes piercing his very soul but his voice was a calm and soothing like honey. “I know you’re hurting right now, but you’re not the only one here who is mourning for Hela. How do you think Merry and Pippin are feeling to have lost the woman they have known since they were children? How do you think Aragorn and Gandalf are feeling at losing a friend they have known for centuries all together? And me? I am her brother who has only come to know her for only 80 years, but she is still my sister. The rest of my kin are either dead or have been turned to stone.”

“I—didn’t even think of that. I could remember the halfling that came with us, his cries could’ve rivaled mine in mourning.”

“But we can’t let this destroy our spirits.” Cain told him. “Back when Hela became the last of our kin, she could’ve chosen to run. Isolate herself and never be seen by a single soul. Instead, she chose to continue the fight to protect and serve Middle Earth. And that’s what we all need to do now.”

“You’re speaking as if she is still here.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Hela, it’s that the ones that we lose never truly leave us. They are all around us, not just in our hearts and memories, but through how we are shaped. What we chose to do after they are gone.” Haldir looked at Cain and then said.

“I believe it would be wise for you all to hear just what happened at Minas Morgul.” Cain nodded then he and Haldir left the spiritual healing pool and headed towards the throne room.

Cain had sent a telepathic message to the others who all met with him and Haldir and Haldir began to explain to them what had occurred at Minas Morgul.

“I didn’t know how it happened at first, but all I know was that I couldn’t control my own limbs. I tried to fight against it, but it was no use. Next thing I knew I awoke chained up surrounded by darkness. Most of the stories I’ve been told of torture methods of orcs, goblins and even men, they—were nothing compared to what I went through. Some form of liquid was given to me by force, not to drink you see, but they poured it onto my skin. The very burning sensation was unlike anything I’ve felt before. For 2 full days I couldn’t move my own finger.”

“What did this liquid look like?” asked Aragorn.

“It was as silver as Mithril but as thick as blood. At times it almost seemed alive as it soaked into my skin, moving through my veins like a worm.”

“I have seen that type of liquid from time to time.” Faramir’s voice spoke up. “I’ve seen Nergal create this potion that he’ll use on some of the prisoners and traitors of Gondor. The screams I’ve heard from some of the men he’s used it on, they were unlike anything I’ve ever heard. Some claim to have felt like they were burning from the inside out.”

“Durin’s beard.” Gimli muttered grimly shaking his head. Even though he had a distrust towards Elves and even Haldir, not even he would wish something like that upon an elf.

“Did they say as to why they wanted Hela?” asked Cain.

“All Perses kept saying was that she needed to surrender to the power she had been given.”

“What does that mean?” asked Merry.

“She did.” Pippin soon spoke up. Everyone turned to the young hobbit as he continued, “when Hela found the guards who had taken you to Minas Morgul. She did something to those guards. Just like you had described Mr. Haldir, it was like she had possessed them with a wave of her hands. It was frightening. I’ve never seen Hela do something like that before, not even when this journey began.”

“Perses even said it that it had to be intoxicating. The feeling of having someone’s life in her hands.”

“Hela has always had the potential to do great good or great evil.” Gandalf explained. “Being the only Celestial of death, she was put to the test to see how a Celestial could deal with such a burden. For only one other person had the power over the dead and was more powerful than she was.”

“Sauron.” Aragorn and Legolas both answered together.

“Yes. But we must also remember a greater threat is coming. Without Hela, the Deviants will return.”

“How exactly did Hela defeat them all? When we used to ask her about that as children, she always diverted from the real answer and told us to not worry about it.” Said Merry.

“She didn’t defeat them.” Cain responded. “The deviants had grown too strong and too numerous for her to handle. So she went to Mirkwood to seek council with Legolas’ father Thranduil. There he had given her a spell that could seal them deep beneath the seas. By using her blood she drew the gate, and with her lifeforce it became the key. She has lived the last 248 years as a walking key. But if she was ever slain in battle, the gateway would become accessible, on the day she sealed them away. Which is in three days from now.”

“Three days from now is also when Smaug had sacked Dale and took claim over Erebor. No wonder she said something else besides a dragon had needed her attention.” Gimli said.

“Now all they would need to do is wait for the red sun to rise on the third day, the seas will open and the gateway will be revealed.” Cain pinched the bridge of his nose sighing heavily.

“Even if you were there to help her Cain, you would’ve been turned to stone just like the rest of your kin. If not killed since you aren’t a Celestial.” Aragorn assured him, knowing that Cain was blaming himself for not being there for his sister.

“So how do we defeat them?” asked Pippin.

“We can’t.” Gandalf said solemnly. “Sauron created the Deviants to only be taken down by the Celestials themselves.”

“We may not be able to defeat them, but there might be a way to hold them off.” Faramir said. “I’ve noticed in a room just before reaching the dungeons there is a large rune of protection. Runes that I’ve only seen in the tales of the Celestial. Hela must’ve made it long ago when the deviants still roamed these lands. If we can somehow activate the spell that powers it, we might be able to create a barrier to protect us for a time.”

“Take me to these runes Faramir and I’ll work out the spell from there.” Faramir nodded then he and Gandalf left the throne room.

“Meanwhile the rest of us have to evacuate the city. The people have already been caught in the crossfires of the armies of Mordor, for them the Deviants would be a fate worse than death.” Aragorn said.

“Where will we take them? Osgiliath is in runes.” Pippin said.

“We will take them deep underground. Hela once showed me in the days of old when war came to this city, back when Sauron was still in power. There is a place large enough for the women and children to seek shelter in. Much like the caves back at Helm’s Deep. It’ll be safe and enforced to keep them alive while we handle the beasts in the city.” Everyone nodded to the King of Gondor and they began to prepare for evacuation and protection.

Legolas and Haldir (along with Eowyn’s assistance) helped the healers take the injured down to the lower levels first since they would need time to be moved and knowing that the Deviants always went for the vulnerable and the weak. Gimli, Merry and Pippin helped the cooks and servants with the food rations that would need to be taken down, and Aragorn made the proclamation to the people of Gondor that they would need to prepare to go underground.

He told them that they would need to gather only what they needed and be prepared to move by the time of the second nightfall. All the awhile Cain was back up at the tower of Ecthelion and he looked down at Hela.

He still couldn’t hear her heartbeat and yet he could still feel that her body was warm.

“We’re evacuating the civilians to the lower levels you helped made Hela. I promise, we’re going to hold them off for as long as we can. I may not have my Celestial power anymore, but Celestial blood still runs through my veins. And in your honor, I swear to you I will not let the white city fall to the Deviants.”

As he turned to leave the tower, Cain could almost hear a faint voice calling out. He knew it wasn’t anyone out in Gondor calling out for this voice said something in both his and Hela’s Celeste language. He felt around and soon pulled out the bag that Hela had given him that held half of their kin’s power stones. He touched the bag and he could feel the strong aura of power emanating from the bag within.

“Druig.” He softly said. He raced out of the tower and reached out to the others and told them to meet him at the throne room, and fast.

When the Fellowship, Haldir, and Faramir were in the throne room Cain had said.

“When I first met Hela to help her regain her spiritual connection to our kins celestial power stones, I’ve always felt a stronger presence within her brother Druig’s stone. Now him being a Celestial of the Mind, I believed it to be just his raw power alone, but I should’ve known better. A big brother, especially a twin, will always find a way.”

“What are you talking about laddie? Speak in words that don’t sound like riddle talk.” Gimli said.

“What I’m saying Gimli is that Druig didn’t just surrender all of his power into the Celestial gem, he also surrendered a part of his subconsciousness in here as well. Hidden away from even Hela until the right moment.”

“So you’re saying that Druig’s mind is inside his stone and he wants to come out now?” asked Pippin.

“Aye. And perhaps with his help, we can find a way to defeat the Deviants once and for all.

“I did always hear a voice for a time when Hela first came to me as a hawk. Translating every cry and squawk she made until I began to pick it up. And it happened right after I had found her family’s celestial gems within a cave not too far from the borders of Bree.” Aragorn spoke up, siding with Cain’s suggestion.

“But how do we get him to come out? Hela always warned us that if anyone unworthy touched a celestial gem, bad things would happen.” Merry said.

“Yes, and Druig is not one to trust people so easily. Especially those of the world of Men and Elves. Thought Men were too arrogant and Elves were too hotheaded. No offense.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for that.” Said Aragorn.

“Neither would I.” Faramir agreed.

“What about us? Hobbits have never been much for gold or riches. Do you think Druig would come out for one of us?” asked Pippin. Cain and Gandalf looked to each other and Gandalf said.

“Your ancestors came long after Druig had been turned to stone. I wouldn’t see why he wouldn’t try. Being of the Mind he’ll see no ill intent within either of you.”

“Do you both know how to summon him?” asked Cain.

“Hela taught us all the calls to each of her siblings and her mother. We got this Master Cain.” Merry assured him. He nodded then he and Gandalf told the others to stand back. Cain took the bag and slowly turned it upside down and out came out Druig’s stone which was now glowing a golden light around the onyx black stone.

Cain backed away as Merry and Pippin stood on either side over Druig’s stone.

“Ready Merry?” asked Pippin.

“Ready Pip.” Answered Merry. Together the two hobbits did Druig’s Celestial bow (pressing their hands together they had their thumbs, index and tall fingers touching each other while their other two fingers rested in the empty spaces between their fingers. Then they touched the center of their foreheads with the tip of their index and tall finger before resting them back in front of their chests). The together they spoke Druig’s prayer.

“Oh He who was first of the Second Age Celestials. The first of the pair of three. The trinity that is of Mind, Body and Soul we ask thee of the power of the Mind. Celestial Druig, we call to you!” as they spoke, the gem began to glow brighter and brighter until it shone almost as powerful as the sun. Until it suddenly stopped.

And nothing happened.

Everyone was confused.

“Did they say it right?” asked Gimli.

“Yes. I don’t understand, it should’ve worked. I’ve heard this prayer a thousand times whenever he, Hela and Makkari made it.” Said Cain.

“Maybe they didn’t……” Gimli continued but then a powerful beam of light shot out from Druig’s gem and red magic began to swarm around both Merry and Pippin. Their arms were pinned behind their backs, they were lifted midway off the ground and around their temples a golden light shined as they felt their heads almost being squeezed.

The hobbits let out a pained scream and as the others readied their weapons and Cain called out their names. But they too were soon consumed by the red magic, lifted just a few inches off the ground, their arms trapped at their sides. Another light burst out from the gem but this time a figure began to take shape.

A translucent figure, almost like a ghost now stood forward, his pupils glowing a pure gold while his right hands glowed with the same red magic that now surrounded them. He had long, wavy brown hair that came to his shoulders, like most ghosts and apparitions that appear in the Seen world, his lower half was none existent. The black and red celestial armor was a given fact to the others that this was indeed Druig’s spirit that had been put into the stone.

He turned towards the hobbits and spoke in a voice that was both warm as honey but a deep as thunder.

“How did you both know to say that prayer? Only two people in all existence know those words.”

“Miss Hela taught it to us. She told us all about you, her and Makkari Mr. Druig sir.” Pippin said before letting out a cry as the glowing at his temples brightened feeling his head was about to explode.

“You may be familiar with the stories of me and my sisters but I don’t recall seeing your kind before. Who are you and why do you seek my power?”

“We’re Hobbits. Halflings. Shire folk. Please Lord Druig we need your help.” Merry said through the pain in his head.

“They speak the truth Druig.” Cain said. Druig turned towards the others and he straightened up.

“None but my family dare say my name alone.” He raised his right hand and as he floated towards the others, he made a ‘come hither’ motion with his right index finger to bring Merry and Pippin along with him. “There is something about you in your head, you’re clearly immortal but you are not of Elven blood nor like this Ranger here.”

“When you were younger, you once heard Orion and Delta speak about a fallen Celestial. A Celestial of their own power, but they spoke his name in a hushed curse. So you went to Phastos and Apollo to know what they were referring to, but Thena intervened before they could speak and told you the story of Cain the Wrathful.”

“And he is you. Cain the Wrathful? The fallen Celestial of Starlight.” Cain nodded. “And just what does an exile? Two elves? A Dwarf? A wizard? Two hobbits? And two Dúnedain Men want with my power?”

“We don’t want your power for gain or conquest. We need your help. I’ve sensed your spirit within your gemstone ever since Hela came to me. As an older brother myself I know what it’s like to worry over your younger siblings. The spell you must’ve used could only activate when Hela was in dire need of help. And now she is.”

“What trouble has befallen my sweet, sweet Hela?” at the mention of his twin sister’s name. He released everyone from his spell, his eyes reverting back to the deep brown. When no one spoke he demanded, his voice now becoming like the deep thunder it truly could be, “SPEAK!!”

“Hela is……she’s……She has fallen.” Aragorn spoke solemnly. Druig’s face went from anger to sorrow as he shook his head. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“Take me to her.”

“Druig…..” Cain started but Druig snapped.

“Please!” his thunderous voice cracked in sorrow. Most people think that ghosts and spirits can’t shed a tear, but everyone saw for themselves that even a spirit can still cry as a single tear fell at the corner of Druig’s face and slid down his chin before disappearing into thin air as it fell from his chin.

“Can you freely move without your stone or……” Gimli started to say.

“I need to be within range of her.” He turned to the hobbits and told them, “You both knew the prayer to summon me, I’ll freely allow one of you to carry my stone.”

“I’ll do it.” Volunteered Merry. Druig gave him a soft nod then in a flash of light, Druig’s spirit disappeared and the light from Druig’s black stone dimmed until it was once again a simple black gemstone. Merry walked over and picked it up. “It feels smooth, like a pebble but almost as cool as water. Huh, who would’ve thought after all these years of wondering what these gems felt like, it’d be that.”

“Best not keep him waiting.” Faramir suggested. Everyone then headed back for the tower of Ecthelion where Hela lied in her bed. Merry set them gemstone onto the floor and once again the gem glowed and Druig’s spirit reappeared before them.

When he caught sight of his twin sister on the bed beaten and scarred, he couldn’t believe that over 3000 years on her own, she’d fallen like this.

“How?” was all Druig could muster. Everyone turned to Haldir and he finally spoke.

“Three dark sorcerers used me to get to her. She fought as best as she could, but they proved to be stronger than she even with all her power.” Druig turned to Haldir and floated right up to the elf. He raised his hands up and placed them on either side of Haldir’s head, his thumbs just barely touching the top of Haldir’s eyes. Druig’s eyes glowed gold and he slowly bowed his head as he began to look inside Haldir’s mind.

There he saw and felt every ounce of pain both he and Hela had endured with Deimos. Nergal and Perses. The poison they gave Haldir, every slice of Deimos’s sickles on both their bodies, the raw power of Perses’ hand-to-hand combat, and even the gas that had taken them both down.

Druig suddenly released Haldir and actually stumbled to the ground weak and in agony at what he had just felt. He crawled across the room, Pippin took a step in concerned but was not only held back by Merry but Druig’s voice echoed with agony.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!!” Druig finally pressed his back to the wall and curled himself inward in agony.

“Mr. Druig? Are you—okay?” Merry asked hesitantly.

“I saw it.” he whispered brokenly.

“Saw what?” Merry asked again.

“I saw her through your eyes.” Druig looked to Haldir. “Even after what they did to you, you still fought by her side?” Haldir looked down.

“I only wish I had fought harder. If I had not gotten captured, maybe there would’ve been a greater chance at stopping them. But they…..” Haldir’s breathing grew sharp and heavy as regret filled him once again. Druig tilted his head and could feel Haldir’s emotions radiating even without needing to look back into his head.

“You’re the one she chose.” Druig stood back up and once again levitated before Haldir. “She always did have an admiration for the Elves but never did I think she would choose one to be her One.” Druig then floated over to his sister’s body and whispered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you little sister. But at least you didn’t pass on alone.” When Druig reached out to touch her head he softly gasped.

His sorrow turned perplex as his eyes began to glow gold. He remained still as he stared down at his sister’s body, not once removing his hand from her head.

“Druig? What is it?” asked Cain.

“I have seen many corpses in my life, many slain warriors even of my own kin. But not a single dead body’s mind is as active as Hela’s is.” Druig said.

“What does that mean?” asked Pippin.

“Have you ever had that feeling when you feel like your trapped in a dream? Where your body is completely still yet your mind is screaming at you to wake up?” they all gave him a nod. “I sense within her that while her body is unresponsive, her mind is as active as a bee’s hive. This is a spell unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“So….Hela isn’t dead?” Pippin asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

“Not yet. This feels like her power but I’ve never known Hela to do something like this to someone.” Druig turned to his sisters friends and his exiled brother and asked. “You said dark sorcerers did this to her, what did they look like?”

“I can show you.” Faramir stepped forward. Druig floated over to him and like he did with Haldir, he placed his hands on either side of Faramir’s head, his thumbs just above the young Steward’s son’s eyes and there Druig saw the faces of Perses, Deimos and Nergal. Druig let out a gasp, his eyes widened in shock as he shook his head.

“It—it couldn’t be. No, no, no, it can’t be.”

“Master Druig, you know these men?” asked Gandalf.

“Not physically but…..oh Irmo I can’t believe how foolish I was to do that to her!” Druig snapped in his anger and in his anger, his raw power caused several objects to fling across the room, some of them nearly taking out some of the men in the room.

“What Druig? What did you do?” asked Aragorn.

“You would think I was a fool after I tell you.”

“For Hela’s sake? I think I would’ve done the same if I had been in your place. Please Lord Druig, we have no answers and if there’s anything you can tell us, we need to know. Not for Middle Earth’s sake or ours, but your sister’s.” Druig looked into Aragorn’s eyes and saw nothing but the truth. He could see just how much this mortal man cared for his sister like she was his own blood.

“Shortly after Sauron had created his Ring of Power, Hela used to wake up screaming. From these….awful dreams. She never wanted to speak about them but she allowed me to see them through her mind. And each time it was always the same dream. She dreamt of darkness and fire. She saw herself standing over the world as it burned to the ground, Her armor changed into one of iron, almost like the Dark Lord’s himself. But she wasn’t alone. At her side, there were three men in Celestial armor as well, but they weren’t any of ours, it was unlike anything I have ever seen Celestial armor be. And those men were the very same men I saw in your head.” He said pointing to Faramir.

Everyone was speechless at Druig’s confession. This couldn’t be possible could it? Those men in Celestial armor?

“I-I didn’t know how to comfort her or reassure her so I-I……I erased those dreams from her head. Each time until she didn’t dream of them anymore.” Druig scoffed. “To think she was seeing the future and I made her forget. She could’ve known not to trust them.”

“She did.” Haldir spoke. Druig turned to the Marchwarden. “She didn’t know how to explain it, but the moment she had met Perses first, she told me there was something both familiar yet evil about him. Sam goes for Nergal and Deimos. She knew not to trust them.”

“But why would she see those men in Celestial armor? I thought they were just evil wizards?” asked Pippin.

“It’s not possible. None but the Valar and the Celestial prime can create Celestials.” Said Gandalf.

“Her Celestial connection.” Cain muttered. Everyone turned to him. “When Sauron took possession over Hela, he didn’t just severe her connection to just the powers of our kin. She had lost her Celestial connection, in a way her aura was like how a mortal man’s is.”

“What do you mean Master Cain?” asked Merry.

“Celestials hold a certain aura that glows much like the Elves. When I first met Hela, I was shocked to see just how dim her Celestial aura was, it was like seeing the last specks of a campfire before it’s extinguished by a foot or dumping some dirt on top of it. It took the entire time she was with me to regain that Celestial glow that our kin is known for.”

“And Sauron’s servants did not kill all of our men. Some were said to have been taken straight into the Black Gates, never to be seen again. And those warriors that were said to have been taken were both strong bodied and strong-willed.” Faramir said.

“He’s deceived us all along. His plans for Hela, her powers, the councilmen of Denethor, it all makes sense now. Sauron didn’t want Hela’s powers for himself…..” Cain started fearfully.

“He wanted to harvest them.” Druig spoke grimly.

“Sauron has created his own Celestials of Death.” Suddenly thunder boomed from the sky but unlike storms in the past, the lightning that flashed from the sky was blood red.

“If they truly are Celestials of Death, then all is lost.” Gimli said. “Lady Hela is a powerful Celestial, but with three Celestials of her own power on the side of our enemy, what hope do we have in stopping them? Especially when in three days’ time, they’ll bring back the Deviants.”

“That’s sometimes the trouble with your Dwarves that I’ll never understand.” Druig said. Gimli grumbled under his breath offendedly.

“What do you mean?” asked Aragorn.

“I did say Hela is under a powerful spell, but all spells, no matter how powerful can be broken.”

“You mean you can break her free of that spell this whole time?” exclaimed Gimli.

“Not me, this is Hela’s magic working against her. Only she has the power to break this curse, but who’s to say she can’t do it without a little help?”

“What are you suggesting Druig?” asked Cain.

“If I can send my spirit deep into Hela’s subconscious, I might be able to help her break free of whatever imprisonment this spell has on her. But in order to counteract a spell this powerful, I need a host body to use my power.” Druig gave a small smirk for he already had chosen who he wanted to use his power.

“No Druig, absolutely not!” Cain immediately said.

“I didn’t even say who I’ve chosen!” Druig exclaimed.

“But I know who you’re thinking of choosing! And I can’t watch as his body is destroyed by your power!” he walked out of the tower and headed down the stairs.

As Cain trudged down the stairs in a huff, Druig’s spirit suddenly appeared before him and he demanded.

“Do you want to be responsible for what is to come next if we choose to do nothing?”

“You don’t understand Druig. Merry and Eowyn both went up against the second greatest threat the third Age has ever known. More dangerous than even Smaug. The Witch King of Angmar is not a foe to be taken lightly, they were both lucky to have come back with their sanity still intact.”

“I’ve seen through Hela’s eyes how the Black breath is and how dangerous Angmar was to Middle Earth. But it doesn’t change the fact that out of anyone in that room, Meriadoc Brandybuck shows more promise in wielding my power. And if you don’t let him and I find a way to help Hela, then Middle Earth will be nothing but shadow and stone.”

Cain’s breathing deepened as he crossed his arms, his body fidgeting with anxiety. He cursed that Druig was right, even he could sense that Merry was meant for something greater, even greater than aiding in helping to defeat the Witch King himself.

“This is his decision. Not yours. If he says no, you will not use your mind manipulation to force him to help you.”

“And if he agrees, then you keep your mouth shut and let us do our work, while you do yours. Without Hela, the Deviants will go for any and all traces of life force to sustain themselves. And you’re the only one with enough knowledge on how to take them down. Deal, brother?” Druig held out his hand.

Cain then reached out and was actually able to grab onto Druig’s hand as the two brothers shook on it.

“If any harm comes to that Hobbit, you’ll see why I was given the name Cain the Wrathful.”

“And you’ll see that when it comes to my twin sisters, I’m not afraid to break the rules and risk banishment for their safety.” Druig’s eyes glowed red in warning.

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papillonapothecary · 2 years

Text

merry brandybuck, ‘nightmare’

through the entire night, you tossed and turned, attempting to find a comfortable position. there was no luck in finding comfort when fear was heavier on your mind than sleep, much like your friend frodo.

you were discreet when hiding your uncomfort, especially while legolas was only a few feet away standing guard for the current moment. nearly everything that was a potential threat crossed your mind, but you tried to subdue it until actually needed to be a concern.

"(y/n)," your brother whispered, despite you thinking you'd hidden your sleepless night, legolas was not a fool.

quietly making your way over to him and sitting down on the grass next to his feet, much like you would when you were a child.

"why do you thrash around like something is bothering you?"

"because something is bothering me."

he didn't speak, which was his way of saying 'go ahead.'

"what happens if we do not help frodo destroy the ring? what will happen to the hobbits? aragorn? us? what about gimli? gandalf?" before you could notice, you began rambling on and on which legolas let you air out any concerns so he could shut them down at the end.

"do you not have faith in any of us?"

"it's not that i don't, i just fear that sauron's efforts might be more than what we're expecting."

"you're wise to acknowledge that, but it's best if you don't. the ring will be destroyed once frodo throws the ring-"

"have you not noticed how the ring has already affected the poor boy?"

"i have, but he is strong."

neither of you spoke, he was letting you process the idea that worries were insignificant in the grand scheme of things. you sat there, staring at the dirt and attempting to think of something to say but he eventually cut off your thoughts.

"go to sleep, muinthel." he ruffled your hair as if you were a little kid.

rolling your eyes and standing from your seated position, you began walking back to where your items were when you heard him ask, "why did you mention the hobbits first in your worries?"

you spun around quickly, looking back at him but he already had his back to you. heat rose to your cheeks, but luckily no one was awake to hear it. even if frodo was awake, there was no way he was worried about whatever legolas had to say.

the night after that you felt would go by just fine, especially seeing that legolas shifted your attention towards a certain hobbit.

meriadoc brandybuck.

you weren't sure how legolas knew about your crush, but that was besides the point. you'd been flirtatious with the hobbit since you first met him in rivendell. he was ruffling through your bag with pippin, they both argued that they thought it had been left behind as if you'd not just left the bag to go talk to lord elrond.

from that moment forward, you'd been smitten. he would flirt back but would often get pulled away into other more serious matters, like his dear cousin getting scolded by gandalf.

you weren't quite sure how you, an elf, could have such strong feelings for the hobbit. you often flattered yourself with using aragorn and arwen as an example, knowing neither of you quite fit those standards.

as you began thinking more and more about the potential of a relationship with merry, you began to doze off and eventually fall completely asleep. it only lasted for what felt like a few minutes until you woke up in a cold sweat.

frodo put the ring on his finger one last time. you stood next to sam, begging frodo to throw it but he wouldn't. sam had tears on his face, and he looked as if he'd just went through a lifetime of military battles.

'frodo, please.’

the look in his eye was dangerous, he began to march towards you with his hands out as if he were going to strangle you. with that image in your mind, you woke up.

a loud gasp escaped your lips and the figure that was approaching you jumped a little. your breathing was hard and rigid as you tried to make yourself become back in touch with reality.

"(y/n)," they kneeled down next to you, "it's okay, you're okay."

merry grabbed your hand gently, afraid to alarm you too much. when you finally realized that frodo hadn't been tainted by the ring and that you were still where you were when you fell asleep.

"merry?"

he hummed in response, "don't worry, it's only me. everyone else is still asleep, aside from your brother."

he knew mentioning that legolas was only a few feet away would be more comforting to you than anything. you glanced to spot him, and there he was. he hadn't strayed too far from where he was earlier when you spoke.

"do you wanna talk about it?" glancing back over to merry, you shook your head.

"not about that," your breath was still shaky, causing your words to be the same as well. you could tell he wanted to talk to you, but he understood if right after waking up from a nightmare was not the time. he began to get up but you gripped his hand before he could go anywhere, "but i still want to talk."

he put a finger up as if he was saying 'hold-on.' you watched as he nearly hopped over pippin's sleeping form to grab his satchel that he'd been using as a pillow, and then nearly trampling pippin again to come back to you.

that was another thing about your crush on merry. he could always make you laugh, no matter what mood you were in prior.

he sat down next to you, "what do we wanna talk about?"

you grinned, trying to hide your previous fears behind humor. you placed a finger on your chin, acting as if you were going to ponder on a topic.

"tell me about your life before you got wrapped up with this."

he began telling you everything. and that means everything. the poor hobbit started at the first moment of his life as a baby. he went on for ages, but you weren't complaining. it was interesting to hear about how hobbits were raised, seeing it was far different than how you were.

once he arrived at present time, he asked you about your life. you started the story as he did.

"well, my father is the king of the elves of-"

"king?"

"do you want my father's life story or my own?"

his face became red, but you could only giggle. you heard your brother chuckle beyond the trees, but continued. you told him about everything, and explained why you are so close to your brother. he was amazed at how eventful your life had been, and for an elf, you were very young.

he had a question about nearly everything, and would often find himself getting way too happy about your accomplishments for you.

"do you consider legolas your best friend?"

"the only person i really know is legolas," you smile, "he's not too bad, so i guess that is a yes."

"well you have us too!" he beamed, "us as in me, pippin,-"

"hm, legolas may be a tad better." you teased, trying to get a reaction out of him.

"yeah, but can your brother do this?" he started to get up to show you something, but you answered with a quick 'probably' that made him chuckle.

it wasn't until then, you realized how loud you both were being.

"merry, get over here!" you whisper yelled, trying to get his attention as he ran towards aragorn's sword that laid on the ground next to him.

he stopped in his tracks and looked back at you, seeing that you were smiling so he knew he was doing something right. instead of grabbing the sword, he came back to you and sat down again.

"are you feeling okay?"

you nod with no response, instead moving to lay back down. he mimicked your actions, going to lay down as-well. he noticed you had nothing to lay your head on, "a princess shouldn't have to lay her head on the ground."

you blushed at his comment, and he stretched his arm out to put it around your shoulder. your head rested perfectly on him, and you placed your hand on his chest.

the two of you laid in silence for a moment.

"merry," you paused, waiting for a sign that he was still awake.

he hummed in response again.

"thank you."

"you don't need to thank me. i just needed you to smile again."

with that, you both fell alseep in each other's grasp. that was until the next morning, which you'd not though of the reactions of the others.

the morning sun caused your eyes to flutter open, and the first thing you saw was a wide-awake pippin. he sat criss-crossed next to you and merry as if he was a lost puppy, wanting attention.

"good morning, (y/n)!" he grinned, "it looks like you and merry enjoyed each other's company last night."

"good morning pippin.."

#meriadoc brandybuck #meriadoc x reader #meriadoc brandybuck x reader #meriadoc brandybuck imagines #merry and pippin #lord of the rings #legolas #legolas x sister #frodo baggins #merry x reader #lotr #lotr movies #lotr imagine #merry imagines #merry brandybuck #merry brandybuck imagines #aragorn #pippin took #rings of power

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leahsflwer · 9 months

Text

LOTR preference - You sitting on their lap 🫢

Warnings: Light smut, fluff for some, mentions sexual topics, adult content, ect.

Paring: LOTR characters x reader! (No gender)

Aragorn -

He grew up with no affection so he was confused when you suddenly sat on his lap. All though no matter how panicked he was, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed your back to his chest as you spoke with Gimli. He sweetly smiled and put his chin on your shoulder.

Legolas -

As you all sat around the large table in Rivendell. You finished pointing at parts and sat down thinking it was your seat only to realise it was Legolas. But you just let it be and he just smirked. Definitely flustered on the inside but he feels honoured to have such a gorgeous person on his lap, a large hand of his, on your hip bone as he focused on the plans that Aragorn spoke of.

Boromir -

You sat on his lap straddling him, looking him in the eyes with a soft smile. He took it the opposite way of you however. He enjoyed the feeling of you on his large lap. He raised his glass up at you with a grin and chugged it. Putting the cup down and pulling you closer onto his lap.

“You look beautiful like this, my love.”

Faramir -

As you sat on his lap facing him, it drove him insane. He was trying to tell you about his new poetry but lost all focus on it. He looked at you with a smirk appearing on his sweet lips. His blue eyes looking at you as he took in all your features. You gulped at the feeling of something under you, poking at your area.

“Sorry about that Sweetheart.”

Frodo -

You were taller than him which made it harder for him to look at your face up close. So he gently grabbed your hand so you came down to his level. You smiled at the action and sat on his lap playing with his hair gently. He loved to feeling. Slightly too much with a problem building up downstairs in the Baggin’s pants.

Merry -

He was flustered when you sat on his lap, but he just smiled in return as you told him about your day. He glanced to the side to make sure Pippin wasn’t glaring and ready to tease him, when he saw the other hobbit distracted he grinned at you and cupped your face, kissing you. Smirking as he pulled away and just listening as you continued.

Pippin -

He was staring right at you as you plopped yourself on his lap with you back turned to him. He moved his lips inches away from your neck and whispered to you. Smirking as he saw your ears and cheeks grow a strong shade of red. Feeling proud at his cheeky comment.

“Now don’t be hasty Princess. Unless you want to be sitting on something else of mine”.

Sam -

You gave him a sense of joy the moment you came into his arms. He immediately became soft as you sat on his laps while he sat by the pot cooking. He held onto your waist and continued to mix the pot time to time. Mentioning how some taters would be perfect for such a delicious meal.

Arwen -

She loved attention and felt powerful when you came to sit on her lap. She let her hands slide to your ass and held onto it. Smirking into your shared kiss. Not caring if her father caught you, as she was no longer going to listen to other’s opinions but yours.

Lindir -

When Lindir finally got some time off of working and following Elrond around he was not expecting it to end on your climbing on his lap. He was flustered, yet turned on by the action he was usually focused and mature but he couldn’t help but imagine things as your stunning face was inches from his own.

Pt.2 (post straight after~)

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frodo-cinnamonroll · 1 year

Note

Hi, I am also a Frodo lover and would like to know if you could write an imagine about dating Frodo and thank you for taking the time to read this.

Here Always

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: nothin' but fluff here

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've had a bit of a busy week. I hope you enjoy it. Hopefully the content will make up for my tardiness.

__________________________________

“Y/N. Y/N.”

You started awake. You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep. Gandalf stood above you, a hand on your shoulder.

“Gandalf!” you cried, standing. “Oh dear I fell asleep! Is Frodo alright? Has anything happened?”

Gandalf smiled down at you. “Frodo is alright. Elrond has cured him of the wound from the Nazgûl blade. He will be out of his room in a minute.”

You jumped up and gave Gandalf a hug. “Thank you for looking after him. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

Gandalf smiled down at you. “Of course, of course. I must talk with Elrond now, so I will see you later.”

“Alright then. Good day.”

Gandalf nodded and walked off. You paced the floor, looking over the balcony nearby at Rivendell, breathing in the free air. When Frodo had been stabbed by the Nazgûl, Arwen, an elf you had bonded with almost immediately, had taken him to Rivendell in much haste. You had been left behind, since Arwen’s horse couldn’t carry multiple hobbits and an elf. You had been very distraught since then, not attempting to hold back your fear. Strider had led you, Sam, Merry, and Pippin as quickly as you could manage to Rivendell. Ever since you had arrived, you and Sam had hardly slept. You had stayed right by Frodo’s side as long as Elrond would let you. Finally, though, he had asked you to stand out of the way so you had taken a seat on a soft recamier that sat right outside Frodo’s room and, apparently, you had fallen asleep.

But you were awake now, and all was well now that Frodo was healed. For the first time since your arrival, you were able to take in the beauty of the Hidden Valley. You felt wholly at peace. You rested your chin and arms on the balcony’s edge, closing your eyes and listening to the song of a waterfall not far away.

“Y/N,” a soft voice behind you called.

You whirled around. Frodo stood there, alive and well. A smile was on his face and in his eyes.

“Frodo!” You leapt into his open arms, hugging him as tight as you could without hurting him. “Frodo! I was so frightened when you left! I thought . . . I thought . . .” You could not finish the sentence for you were so overwhelmed with joy that it spilled out of your heart and eyes.

“I am here,” Frodo said, stroking your head. “I shan’t leave you. I will not.”

For a few sweet moments, the two of you held each other in the golden sunlight of the day, not saying anything because nothing needed to be said. Then Sam, Merry, and Pippin ran up and there was much joy in the reunion. Everyone was talking at once, full of merriment and delight. You couldn’t describe how glad you were to see a smile on Frodo’s face again and life in his lovely eyes. His laugh was priceless and endlessly pleasant to listen to. It healed any remnants of fear and doubt that lingered in your heart, filling it (if it was possible) with even more joy. It was then that Frodo spotted Bilbo sitting not far away on a stone bench.

“Bilbo!” Frodo cried, running up to give him a hug.

“Frodo, my lad!” Bilbo said, returning the gesture. “And you too, Y/N. Come on!” He beckoned you to join the hug. You didn’t object.

You had been quite close to Bilbo ever since you and Frodo had started courting. You had loved the old hobbit dearly and you had helped him a lot with his book. You were fascinated by his tales of his adventures and, like Frodo, had secretly wished to go on an adventure of your own some day. That day had come sooner than you had thought, but you weren’t going to complain. Everything was alright and you were happy.

“Come,” Bilbo said at last, “I have things to show you both.” And he led the two of you off.

⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘

You and Frodo spent most of the day with Bilbo. He had made much progress in his book and you were quite delighted to see the beautiful thing. Bilbo also showed you around Rivendell a bit. You saw stunning waterfalls, exquisite marble buildings, and ancient trees. The elves were all very nice but also mysterious, not in a bad way necessarily. You could see some deep meaning in their eyes that seemed beyond your reach of thought, something sad and wise. You didn’t bother much about it though, for you thought it would possibly be thought rude to ask about it if ever you could put it into words.

Towards sunset as the day bid farewell, painting the sky stunning colors, Bilbo left you and Frodo to talk to Gandalf a bit, wherever he might have been. Frodo then offered you his arm and you walked slowly down the paths Bilbo had shown you earlier.

“It has been quite a day,” Frodo said, laying his head on yours which rested on his shoulder.

“Indeed it has,” you said, closing your eyes. “I’m just glad I got to spend it with you.”

“As am I.” Frodo smiled at you, something that filled you with warmth no matter what, and kissed your head so gently you barely felt it.

You reached out your hand and caressed his cheek with the utmost care and then brushed back a rouge hair from his face.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“And I love you, Y/N. More than I can say.” Frodo tenderly pressed his forehead against yours.

“Mr. Frodo!”

You and Frodo suddenly let go and you turned to face Sam who had appeared now in front of you. Frodo’s face flushed and you avoided Sam’s gaze and scuffed a leaf that lay on the ground, smiling.

“Oh . . .” Sam said, scratching his head. “Sorry Mr. Frodo. Begging your pardon, and you too Miss Y/N. I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“What is it, Sam?” Frodo asked.

“Well, I was just going to say that Pippin told me that Bilbo told him that tonight the elves are hosting a feast in your honor. There’s going to be singing and dancing and lots of food. It’ll be a jolly good time! I best get ready now.” With that Sam went off and disappeared.

“Singing and dancing,” you said, looking at Frodo. “Sounds to me like a good time. I wonder how elvish parties compare to our hobbit ones?”

“I guess we will find out,” Frodo said. You took his arm again and then you headed off. The sun lowered below the mountains just then, and many torches were lit simultaneously. You could see shapes of elves and other figures making their way towards the Hall of Fire, where the banquet was to be held.

⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘⚘

It was a good time indeed. There were foods of the like which you had never seen before that had wonderful tastes. Everything was delicious. Elrond, Strider, Arwen, Gandalf, and all the hobbits were present along with many elves and even some people from other lands. You had heard whispers of some council being held the next day but Gandalf wouldn’t tell you anything. You didn’t fret too much and decided to enjoy the night.

After the feast finished, everyone migrated to the central part of the Hall where many fires were lit. The walls glowed subtle orange like that of clay or rust with flickers of flashing yellow. Immediately, some of the elves started singing in their tongue a song of days long past. You and Frodo sat on a small couch-like seat along the wall and watched them. As they sang, though you knew not what they said, you could see in your mind oceans and mountains, plains and forests, elves dancing, beasts roaming, and silver stars lighting an endless night. For some reason you did not understand, it brought tears to your eyes and try as you might, you couldn’t hold them back. Frodo put his arm around you and you leaned into him, smiling. The elves sang many songs, some sad and sweet, some lively and filled with laughter.

A good while passed and you and Frodo were watching everything intently and full of wonder. Finally, Strider stood with Arwen and the elves formed a ring around them with their partners. The ones playing the instruments began a calm and happy song that started out slow at first. As Arwen and Strider gilded flawlessly over the floor, they beckoned you to join the company.

“Come,” Strider said as they passed by. “Come, both of you, and join the dance.”

“I do not prefer to dance in front of so many,” you said.

“It is a blessed dance,” Arwen replied. “You will be glad for it.”

“Would it be alright if we just sat here?” Frodo asked meekly.

“Come! Join us!” Strider beckoned again.

You looked at Frodo whose face was as indecisive as you felt. He met your gaze and Strider bade you both to join them again. Some of the other elves insisted too.

“Let us see how the halflings meet the music,” they said.

Finally, you gave way. Frodo stood and held out his hand and you took it. The ring of elves parted to allow the two of you into the middle. Frodo guided you to the middle where Strider and Arwen were swaying in perfect rhythm. They seemed to be anticipating a change in the song. Frodo held your hands in his own and glanced around unsure of what to do next.

“I am not entirely sure what we are doing, exactly,” Frodo whispered to you.

“Neither am I,” you whispered back.

“Follow where the music leads,” Arwen called. “Move your feet and the song will take care of the rest.”

You started out like Strider and Arwen, moving slowly and staying in step, but just as you had presumed, the music began to quicken. Arwen and Strider moved quicker but not less smoothly. You and Frodo followed, quickening your steps. The elves were happy that you had joined and were comfortable enough to do such a daring thing. They cared less whether or not your movement was pleasurable. Suddenly, the music took a leap and those around you started clapping in rhythm. The instruments sang louder and faster now.

“Let us show them how hobbits meet music,” Frodo said with a smile. He didn’t seem as nervous now. You weren’t either, only a little.

You grinned. “Shall we?”

All in one moment, you and Frodo picked up your pace, dancing in brilliant hobbit fashion. You both were rather used to moving with fast-paced music, as was tradition at most parties. The two of you skipped around and laughed as you did. Frodo twirled you and led you steadily through. All that were watching were delighted, but especially Sam, Merry, and Pippin who almost joined in themselves. More took part in the clapping and Arwen and Strider stepped out of the circle to give the two of you space. The song was ever heightening and quickening. Soon, you thought your feet barely touched the floor, but Frodo made sure neither of you fell. Finally, the song came to its end with a sudden leap and everyone clapped. Frodo laughed and you couldn’t stop smiling from the exuberance of it all.

“Halflings can meet the music indeed!” Aragorn said, patting Frodo on the shoulder.

“I hope we did not disappoint,” Frodo said.

“No, you went beyond expectation, Mr. Underhill. A fine couple the two of you make.”

You looked away bashfully and Frodo smiled, looking down. Frodo then gave you his arm and led you off the dancing floor.

“That was something,” you said at last, sitting down.

“Indeed. It wasn’t too much to ask, I hope?” Frodo said.

“Oh, no. In front of so many people is slightly uncomfortable, but someone once said that there are better things than being comfortable. I guess it is good to do something you normally wouldn’t every now and then, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Frodo looked at the arched doorway of the Hall of Fire. Night was full and the moon was high. “I would like to walk out there tonight. Would you like to come?”

“Of course,” you said, standing. “I don’t want to leave your side again.”

Frodo put his arm around you and the two of you disappeared unnoticed, at least, you thought you were unnoticed, but the others let you be, smiling at your tender affection. You and Frodo walked much like you had earlier that day, with your head on his shoulder, taking in the beauty of it all. And the night was beautiful indeed. Other than the elves singing, there were the waterfalls and crickets. Everything was brushed gently in the moon and starlight. Everything felt peaceful, as if nothing was wrong in the world. Of course, you knew that wasn’t true, but in Rivendell it was, and you were wholly content to be with Frodo. You wanted nothing else, and that much you made rather plain. You noticed now that Frodo was looking at you.

“Is . . . is something on your mind Y/N?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing much, really,” you said. “I love this place, Rivendell. Bilbo was right, it is magnificent. It is wonderful but more than that, I am glad you are here and are well. I’ve never known such fear and loneliness as when you left, but I also have never known such joy and gratitude as when you came back. You mean more to me than I could properly describe and I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Frodo said. “I do know it and I love you for it. I love you the same, though I am no poet. I wouldn’t ask for another, Y/N. I never would. Whether we go home after this, or something other, I want you to know that I am extremely thankful that you are here. I want you here always. I want to be here always.”

“And I will be here always,” you said, smiling. “I mean that as a promise, Mr. Underhill.”

“Then I double the promise,” Frodo said, holding you in his arms. “I shall be here always.”

#frodo x reader #frodo baggins #frodo x you #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fanfiction #hobbit x reader #hobbits #lotr x reader #rivendell #fanfic #requested #requested fic #lotr fluff #fluffy fic

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lttl3babybug · 9 months

Note

Something nice and sweet with Pippin perhaps? He’s my favorite 🥰 sorry if this isn’t that specific

PIPPIN!! AHHH!! Pippin is my favourite Hobbit!! Idk if you’d noticed but my blog is pretty Pippin centric :p But I’m gonna do some headcanons for him as a regressor and caregiver bc I see him as both!! TY FOR THE PIPPIN REQUEST!!

Flip!Pippin Took Headcanons!

Regressor Pippin

🥞Regressor Pippin is either a handful or not a bother at all

🥞Considering the fact that Pippin is the youngest of the 4 Hobbits I imagine he’d probably regress to the youngest out of them as well

🥞I’d say he’d probably be more of a toddler regressor than a baby regressor but if he’s had a rough day he’ll happily be your little baby boy

🥞Give him like a regression range of 1-6

🥞Mud. That’s a whole point. Expect this little one to come back covered in mud after playing out with Merry all afternoon

🥞He’s very clingy, if you got out in public and he regresses he will not let go of your hand at all

🥞Try and put him down for a nap, I dare you. He will bite

🥞Then he’ll cry about biting you because he feels super bad that he hurt you

🥞He’s a very loving little one (when you’re not trying to put him down for a nap), he’ll draw you pictures and let you cuddle his beloved stuffies

🥞Speaking of stuffies he has thousands upon thousands. He kicks them all off his bed in his sleep other than his favourite one

🥞He takes this stuffie everywhere with him. Everywhere.

🥞Sometimes when Pippin does eventually go down for his naps he gets bad nightmares about what happened during his adventure.

🥞He’ll wake up with tears following down his cheeks as he calls out for you while clutching his favourite stuffie

Caregiver Pippin

🥞Pippin as a caregiver is a little hectic

🥞He’s not irresponsible but he’s not exactly responsible

🥞Can be cook for you? No. Let’s be real no he cannot. Will he bribe Sam into cooking for you? Absolutely

🥞Pippin may not be the most practical Caregiver but he’s a great playmate!

🥞You want to read stories? He’s totally down to sit and help you sound out the words

🥞You’re having a stuffie tea party? Count Pippin in, he loves the taste of your imaginary tea

🥞Playing outside? He’s already covered in mud and ready to join you

🥞As childish as he is he does very much care for you, he loves you after all, if you get hurt he’s rushing to your side to comfort you

🥞If you bumped your head on a doorframe or something like that he’ll tell off the doorframe for hurting his precious baby

🥞He’ll cuddle you until you’ve stopped crying and ask him if you can continue playing now

🥞He loves every picture you colour in for him, keeps all of them. Your favourite ones go on the fridge because he can’t pick a favourite, he loves them all

🥞Merry often helps Pippin look after you, he’s over a lot, he watches you while Pippin bribes Sam into helping him cook

🥞Merry Will also happily play in the mud with all of you, he loves holding you and telling you stories of how brave Pippin was when he was on his adventures

🥞Pippin sees taking care of you as a way to prove that he is responsible, he went months with being called a fool and being underestimated so taking care of you is proving that he’s not a fool and that he can be responsible

🥞If he’s having a bad day, he’ll still try his best to take care of you but might not be as enthusiastic about everything. He’s happy to just sit and watch you though!

🥞Don’t think just because Pip is having a rough day he won’t do his best to look after his little one

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ironmandeficiency · 11 months

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modern lotr character headcanons

characters included: aragorn, boromir, gimli, legolas, pippin, merry, frodo, sam, arwen, eomer, eowyn

word count: 745

summary: random thoughts abt lotr characters if they lived in modern times

a/n: this is literally just silly shit, enjoy

boromir listens to old country (conway twitty, george jones, loretta lynn, etc.) and does not tolerate anyone insulting the opry legends

he also listens to divorced dad rock (hinder, nickelback, theory of a dead man, etc.) which gimli will sometimes jam to as well

gimli lovingly maintains an old-as-dirt bench seat ford truck despite there almost constantly being something wrong with it. ignores legolas’s badgering about him getting something more reliable

obviously legolas drives a hybrid and he almost acts as if this fact makes him better than gimli (not in a dickish way, though)

horse girl aragorn.

frodo is the epitome of shy emo boy with the black skinny jeans & death cab for cutie playing in his air pods

merry is the golden retriever in the “golden retriever in love with the black cat” trope

aragorn and arwen host game nights and various other parties for their friends, but neither of them can cook so they just order delivery (or sam hijacks their kitchen for the hours before)

pippin has a large follower base on social media bc of his drinking songs and other inebriated antics that are usually recorded by whoever happens to be with him that night. usually it’s eowyn & merry, and the three of them will shake some major ass to megan thee stallion

sam goes to open mic nights at local coffee shops to people watch. he will never perform himself, but it’s nice to watch people he knows do their thing

eomer accidentally goes viral on tiktok when eowyn records him doing some dumb shit. never lives it down

the amount of joy gimli gets from going to rage rooms is almost alarming

arwen has a very thorough skin care regimen that she introduces to aragorn, and it becomes a sweet nightly routine for the two of them

eowyn & eomer don’t allow anyone to talk shit about or annoy the other bc that’s their job fuck you very much

frodo has a shitty immune system but sam’s homemade soups seem to always heal from the soul outward

sam is the little spoon favored by the resident neurodivergent

frodo is the resident neurodivergent

yes they’re dating

arwen is always the dd

when it comes to birthdays, don’t ask boromir to remember anyone but faramir’s. hell, he forgets his own birthday sometimes

legolas is the best at remembering the birthdays of his friends but forgets his own

they have to remind each other of their own birthdays when that time of year comes around

merry is always the favorite audience member at a drag show

arwen & eowyn never dress like they’re going to the same place when they hang out

gimli says southern grandpa idioms unironically — “as useless as a screen door on a submarine”, “higher than eagle titties”, “busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest”, you get the idea. merry keeps a running tab of said quotes

boromir is the “we’re not getting a dog” dad. said dog ends up being his best friend & the sole inheritor in his will, fuck them kids

aragorn & gimli have their own moonshine still they think is perfectly hidden from everyone

that does not include merry & pippin, who are booze bloodhounds and immediately knew where to find it but swore to secrecy as long as they got more than everyone else

frodo sips fruity little drinks because he can’t shoot whiskey

sam can drink in the way only a divorced middle-age man can despite not being a divorced middle-aged man

eowyn cannot drive for shit & the several dents on her car prove it. the only reason her insurance hasn’t gone up astronomically is because she just. doesn’t report any of it

said car has a fuck ton of bumper stickers with all sorts of silly things

gimli can’t ride a bike AT ALL but has a motorcycle, make it make sense

he goes on bike rides with eomer when they have the time & the weather is nice

merry & pippin are two halves of a whole idiot at every given moment

eomer LOVES 90s and 00s country music but is kinda picky about newer country (he is a massive fan of cody johnson but will throw you through a wall if you talk about morgan wallen in his presence)

arwen dances in the rain & literally never gets sick from it. merry is insanely jealous of this fact

frodo’s favorite video game is animal crossing: new horizons & has very sound opinions on what villagers are the best (fuck you, rodney)

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frodo-with-glasses · 2 years

Text

More Reading Thoughts: Minas Tirith

(So I would like to start this off by saying that I’m writing this from the perspective of having already finished the chapter a while ago and had a couple days to chew on it. This is not a live-blog; this is a recap. The reason for this disclaimer will become clear below. ;-P)

I want to say something about these portions of Pippin’s ride with Gandalf, but nothing I say will really do it justice. There’s just something dreamlike, spell-binding, nostalgic, melancholy, and longing about it. The whole world whirling by under Shadowfax’s hooves while Pippin slips in and out of sleep.

People talk about the strange, extraordinary feeling that the scene at the Grey Havens gives them, but I can actually kind of identify that feeling, because I’ve thought about it a lot. This, though? I can’t even identify what emotion this is giving me. It’s like waking up and yearning for a dream you can remember less by the second. Wow.

“Sleep again, and do not be afraid! For you are not going like Frodo to Mordor, but to Minas Tirith, and there you will be as safe as you can be anywhere in these days. If Gondor falls, or if the Ring is taken, then the Shire will be no refuge.” “You do not comfort me.” Hahahaha there’s Tolkien’s bathos!

“He wondered where Frodo was, and if he was already in Mordor, or if he was dead; and he did not know that Frodo from far away looked on that same moon as it said beyond Gondor ere the coming of the day.” Hnnnngg my heart TT-TT

Hahaha the way that Pippin takes offense to being called a man AND being called brave X’-D

Bruh I dunno how people can read the description of Minas Tirith and actually picture in their heads what it looks like. I can see it now, because I’ve seen it in the movie, but it’s no wonder that this description made Little Me’s head spin.

I’m glad the movies took the comedy route here because Gandalf giving Pippin a long list of Things You’re Not Allowed to Talk About is very funny

Broooo Denethor’s face reminds Pippin more of Aragorn than it does Boromir 8-O Something something noble lineage and dramatic parallels…

Pippin immediately stuttering as soon as Denethor asks him a question is a huge mood

Movie!Denethor when you meet him: Grumpy. Grieving. A few crayons missing from the box. Easily not somebody you’d ever want to be around on purpose. Book!Denethor when you meet him: Serious. Level-headed. Shrewd. Asks intelligent and uncomfortably probing questions. A little bit manipulative. Still not somebody you’d want to have over for lunch, but someone you have to respect even if you don’t like him.

“[Denethor] turned his dark eyes on Gandalf, and now Pippin saw a likeness between the two, and he felt the strain between them, almost as if he saw a line of smoldering fire, drawn from eye to eye, that might suddenly burst into flame.” This is literally the same comic book effect that I used in these comics what

Speaking as a normie who also doesn’t have this stuff memorized, I find Pippin wondering about Gandalf’s age to be absolutely hilarious. “Well, my boy, to understand that, you’ll have to read this little thing called the Silmarillion—”

“Was it so, or had he only imagined it, that as he spoke of the Stones a sudden gleam of his eye had glanced upon Pippin’s face?” Ohohoho, foreshadowing??

(This is brilliant because at this point you could just write it off as Pippin’s overactive guilt from looking into the Palantir a couple days ago, but I’m also fairly certain we’re gonna find out later that Denethor has one of the Stones too, so?? Maybe he saw Pippin too?? Who knows???)

Denethor calls Pippin “my liege”, “half kindly, half mockingly”. I don’t really have a comment on this except that I find it fascinating he’d refer to Pippin as a superior, even sarcastically.

I can’t even paraphrase Denethor and Gandalf’s rap battle without making it less concise and biting than it actually is. Denethor says “let your wrath at an old man’s folly run off, and then if you’re going to come back, let it be to my comfort” and Gandalf says “BOI don’t even start with me, you can’t use your grief to hide, I see your game and we both know you’re no old man yet; when you’re a dotard, you will die!” SAVAGE—

“I am also a steward. Did you not know?” I’m sure Gandalf is just talking about the free peoples of Middle Earth being under his care, but my first thought went to, “I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Arnor…”

“Yet in the wizard’s face he saw at first only lines of care and sorrow; though as he looked more intently he perceived that under all there was a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing, where it to gush forth.” Bro there is something INCREDIBLY Biblical about that, I can’t even. The utterly overwhelming wellsprings of joy in a being powerful enough to see beyond the present grim circumstances into a bright and glorious future. “For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God…”

“Indeed you did your best, and I hope that it may be long before you find yourself in such a tight corner again between two such terrible old men.” Gandalf’s self-depreciation is genuinely making me feel better. Pippin isn’t even full-grown yet, and I’ve been a kid before, so I know getting stuck between the grown-ups when they’re arguing is TERRIFYING. This little bit of encouragement is badly needed.

“Well, there is no need to brood on what tomorrow may bring. For one thing, tomorrow will be certain to being worse than today, for many days to come.” First of all, mood. Secondly, I think that’s a good role model for how to deal with times like these. “This is gonna suck! Now let’s get out there and do what we have to do.”

Pippin’s first concern, the instant he’s left alone: “I want breakfast :-(”

(Okay so here’s where the recap disclaimer comes in. I’ve had a couple of days to think about it, and after much careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that Beregond is my new husbando.)

(NONONONO LISTEN. SHUT UP, STOP HECKLING ME, LISTEN. Look, I didn’t REMEMBER about Beregond until rereading this, okay?? I’m fairly certain I skipped through the Gondor and Rohan bits pretty quickly—because kingdoms of Men looked a LOT the same to Little Kid Me—and Beregond is NOT in the movies, so there was nothing to make him stick in my mind. BUT. HOLY COW. HE IS THE BEST(TM). So I’m gonna be keeping a counter of Beregond Being A Dreamboat for the rest of this post. Ready? Ready. Okay.)

Pippin has been left alone. Gandalf left on business, and now he’s stuck in an unfamiliar place with no idea of what to do. He sees a man coming up the street and makes up his mind to say hello because he’s lonely. He doesn’t need to! That man comes right up, introduces himself, welcomes Pippin to Gondor, and offers his hand to shake. He doesn’t gawk at Pippin. He doesn’t spend too much time interrogating him about who and what he is. He’s just like, “Hi :-D You’re the Halfling, right? I’ve been sent to show you around.” He’s so friendly and laid-back and easy-going I love him <3 DING!

Gandalf is gone for all of two seconds before Pippin almost blabs about Aragorn to somebody. Can’t take this fool of a Took anywhere.

Beregond asks good questions. He asks for clarification of terms, like “who is Aragorn?” and “what is a Hobbit?”. That proves he’s paying attention, and that he’s intelligent and curious and attentive and genuinely interested in what Pippin has to say. DING!

Beregond: “Is there anything you would like to know?” Pippin, hesitantly: “B b break fast? ? 🥺”

Beregond laughs so easily. I freakin’ love him. He asks Pippin “you haven’t eaten anything today?” and Pippin says “I had some wine and a white cake or two, but I had to answer questions for an hour and I’m hungry >_<” and Beregond laughs and jokes “at the table small men may do the greater deeds, we say”, clearly thinking of children—OF WHICH HE HAS ONE, so he’d know! DING!

And THEN he says “sounds like you’ve had as good a breakfast as any of us soldiers get around here” and when Pippin’s face does a “D-8 !!!” he laughs AGAIN like “nonono it’s okay I’ll find you some food, don’t you worry!” He’s kind and understanding AND he’s got snacks!! DING!

And then! When Pippin says “wait, Gandalf asked me to check on Shadowfax,” Beregond says: “But come! You shall make me acquainted with this good horse. I love beasts, and we see them seldom in this stony city…” LIKE HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THIS MAN, HE LOVES ANIMALS, HE’S SO EXCITED TO SEE A HORSE, I’M— DING!

I love that Pippin talks to Shadowfax like you’d talk to another person—and even better, that Shadowfax seems to understand, and lets Beregond pet him.

Shadowfax can neigh loud enough to shake a stable. Noted.

“Then they took their leave, seeing that the manger was well filled. ‘And now for our manger,’ said Beregond.” DAD JOKE DAD JOKE DAD JOKE— DING!

The way Beregond vouches for Pippin to Targon the Food Guy is the funniest thing. “He has had sore labor this morning,” not “he was sitting and talking for an hour”. Love it. DING!

Beregond learns a lot about the Shire and Pippin’s adventures, and apologizes for assuming Pippin was just a kid that Denethor took on “as a whim”. But there are two factors here: 1) he apologized proactively, before Pippin even had any reason to feel offense, and 2) he treated Pippin so well that there was no need to feel offense in the first place. I imagine his thought process must have been, “The lord has taken on a page, and I’m supposed to teach him the passwords? Sure, I’ll take this as seriously as I take any other duty I’m given.” No talking down to Pippin, nothing to make him feel any less than welcome.

Why is this important? 1) Because anyone who is quick to apologize is a person of humility and integrity. DING!

2) Because it says good things about his personality that he’s willing to accept what seems like a ridiculous situation with good humor and complete sincerity. DING!

And 3) Because if that’s how he treats someone he thinks is a kid, that means he treats kids really, really well. DING!

“And there were always too few children in the city; but now there are none—save some young lads that will not depart, and may find some task to do: my own son is one of them.” And it was at this moment —at this exact moment—that everything made sense.

You wanna know why Beregond immediately knew to treat Pippin the way he did? ‘Cause it’s ingrained. Him’s a DadTM. He saw Pippin and the paternal instinct in him immediately went—

—and now, even despite knowing that Pippin is nearly full-grown, he can’t shake it. Mans is warm and nurturing and attentive and an excellent teacher because he’s had practice and I absolutely love him. DING!

Also ohhhh he has so much reason to be invested in how this battle turns out. He’s gotta make sure his kid has a future that isn’t in death or slavery to the Dark Lord. That’ll motivate ya.

“It is but the deep breath before the plunge.” Duuuude. That was Beregond’s line at first! I can definitely see why they gave it to Gandalf tho.

“It is over-late to send for aid when you are already besieged.” That’s…actually really good advice. Both militarily, and also in a lot of other circumstances. Cf. why I’m taking steps to avoid the clinical depression that runs in my family BEFORE it gets to the point that I need medication.

The way just witnessing a Black Rider immediately makes Beregond and Pippin become overwhelmed with despair until it leaves. That thing deals psychic damage just by existing.

And then, as soon as it’s gone, the mood passes, and both of them declare “nope, actually, I’m gonna hold on to hope, thanks”.

“‘Rightly said!’ cried Beregond, rising and striding to and fro. ‘Nay, though all things must come utterly to an end in time, Gondor shall not perish yet. Not though the walls be taken by a reckless foe that will build a hill of carrion before them. There are still other fastnesses, and secret ways of escape into the mountains. Hope and memory shall live still in some hidden valley where the grass is green.’” I just. I. Hjzzzg.

First of all, standing up and walking around to shake off the unwanted foul mood. I can see that in my mind, it’s so clear. Second, practical speech mixed with utter poetry. “Hope and memory shall live in some hidden valley where the grass is green”?? That’s just. Get out, that’s brilliantly evocative. And third: holding on to hope bare-knuckled, despite KNOWING the odds are stacked against you; despite realizing you might very well lose the fight, lose everything, even lose your life; despite having a family, and so much more reason to worry about what the world will look like on the other side of the storm; but stubbornly choosing to believe that light and song and goodness will endure, even if it’s after you’re gone. I just. I. HHHHNG. DING!

“I am no warrior at all and dislike the thought of any battle; but waiting on the edge of one that I can’t escape is the worst of all.” It’s interesting to see how much of this conversation was given to the conversation with Gandalf in the movies instead.

Beregond laughs again at the mere notion that he might be a captain. But he’s not the least bit bitter about his lower rank, and actually seems very proud of it. Humility and quiet confidence and still a good sense of humor. DING!

A rumor has already gone through the Citadel Guard that all the Riders of Rohan “each would bring behind him a halfling warrior, small maybe, but doughty”. They’re not right, and they’re not entirely wrong, because Merry, at least, is going to be riding behind Eowyn.

Pippin gets all the food and drink he wants and his only problem is keeping his mouth shut. Seems about right!

Aaaaand the final point in Beregond’s favor before we leave him for the day: Man loves his son. “But if you are lonely, as you say, maybe you would like a merry guide around the City. My son would go with you gladly. A good lad, I may say.” Can you imagine the twinkle in his eye when he says that?? Ugh, it’s too cute. DING!

I’m just imagining the thought process here. He’s getting to know Pippin and he’s like “Bergil would absolutely love this guy, he’s a hoot, he’d get a kick out of it”, and as soon as he knows Pippin pretty well he’s like “I’ll betcha he’ll like Bergil too, and I think he’d be a good influence”, and then he puts those two pieces together and sets up a playdate for his son and the hobbit he just adopted. Adorable.

People really do come out to stare at Pippin, don’t they?

Bergil is just. Written perfectly. His vernacular is much more polished than that of a kid nowadays, but the things he wants to talk about are EXACTLY what kids always want to talk about. “Hi! Who are you? How old are you? I’m ten, and almost five feet tall, and very grown up. Have I told you about my dad? He has the greatest job ever! Wow, you’re a grown-up already?? That’s so weird. Wanna wrestle?”

Also. One more point in Beregond’s favor. I love the fact that Bergil introduces himself with the name and occupation of his father. Is this likely a standard way to identify oneself in a culture without surnames? Yes, probably. Are kids usually proud of their parents’ occupations by default? Yes, if they’re allowed to keep that enthusiasm. Is it still very telling that Bergil draws himself up and puffs out his chest to proclaim whose son he is? Yes, yes it is. Beregond is a dad worth being proud of. DING!

I have nothing to say about the procession of reinforcements from the Outlands pouring into Minas Tirith, except that it’s a brilliant show of the diverse cultures Tolkien dreamt up for Gondor, and also FORLONG THE FAT

Also Beregond wants to hear all about his son when Pippin gets back. They’re so darn cute.

The lights are being dimmed in Minas Tirith. Somebody lived through the bomb raids in Britain….

“The Darkness has begun. There will be no dawn.” Dun dun dunn…

Final Dreamboat Points: 15

Results: Husbando

#peregrin took #pippin #gandalf #denethor #shadowfax #beregond #bergil #mention of:#frodo baggins #aragorn #boromir #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #assorted thoughts #if beregond dies i am going to be. very upset.#please let the good dad live tolkien i beg you

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thewitchkingiscool-ace · 10 months

Text

Stay With Me- Chapter Three: Golden Sunlight Breaking Through the Clouds (Boromir x reader)

Other chapters:

Chapter 1: Don’t Let Me Fall

Chapter 2: Thoughts Of Silver

Chapter 4: Shadowed By Demise

Description: Chapter 3 of my boromir x reader fic (which you’re getting early again AND at the same time as chapter four, which is linked above) in which Boromir is helping you recover from when you fainted, and then you go into battle with him, and he keeps his arm around your shoulder the whole time. Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn are in this too, and Merry, Pippin, Frodo, and Sam are mentioned.

Tropes: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

Length: 1.5k words (1,570 words)

Genre: LotR

Notes: none really

Chapter: 3/5

Your heartbeat instantly quickened as Boromir turned without hesitation to you, his light brown hair now gleaming with strands of gold and bronze-gold, illuminated by the dying sun that was ducking its head under the forest that now danced with a soft wind. He smiled shyly but warmly as he crouched down beside you and placed one warm hand on your upper arm, resting it there. His gaze then met your own, and you couldn’t withhold the grin tugging at the edges of your lips. Boromir smiled too, his eyes shining beautifully as they subtly darted left and right, up and down, inspecting every corner of your face, right down to your pale lips. You thought you had imagined his gaze lingering there for a moment…

“How are you feeling?” he asked you in the voice you knew so well, soft, but low and a little husky.

“Much better now,” you replied. Although, you hoped that you would not be tugged to your feet to fight again, since you still needed a little time to compose yourself, and, if you got up, this peaceful moment with Boromir would come to an end. It seemed to block out all the commotion around you, especially as Aragorn was doing so well at keeping the orcs at bay.

“That’s good. I’m actually quite impressed that you managed to stagger away from the orcs earlier,” Boromir laughed. You laughed too. “Although you probably could not see where you were going, you moved enough out of the crowd that you were out of danger. Then I spotted you.” You continued chuckling, though you didn’t remember much of the events close before your fall, and had forgotten what you had dreamed and what you had not. “Though I can’t say I remember much before the fall,” you admitted. “Ah…” Boromir said. “Well, allow me to fill you in. I had been fighting near Gimli and Aragorn when I saw you, and you looked very pale. That’s when I ran to you, and Aragorn followed. Gimli stayed fighting the orcs, I think. I lost track of him after that.” This sent you out in heaps of laughter. Boromir chuckled along with you.

“You managed to walk close enough towards us that I could catch you in time, and still there were orcs everywhere, and Aragorn took care of those closest. Once they were accounted for, we carried you over to this very tree.” You were nodding slowly, listening to the report of what had happened. Though it was hard to fully process the words, for you were so lost in his voice.

“Yes, I do remember feeling as if I was flying across the forest floor… I thought it quite strange at the time. You must have been hurrying to this tree quite fast, considering how it felt to me!” You chuckled a little as you said this, and Boromir joined you, watching the curves of your lips as your laughter brought them up into a beautiful smile. Though you didn’t particularly notice his gaze upon your mouth, you felt a change in him then, and could almost sense that his heartbeat had quickened. Your heart was pounding in sync with him, both beautiful souls intertwined harmoniously. The moment felt a little more close now, and Boromir shifted his hand a little further down your arm, moving closer to your side at the same time. How you wanted to lean forward and kiss him, feel his warm lips against yours, and hold him close.

“Boromir, I’m sorry that we left you while you got the firewood,” you said. “We got in a bit of a tight spot. I didn’t want to leave you- none of the others did either, I’m sure.” Boromir smiled kindly and replied, “You don’t have to apologise, y/n. I would rather you had gotten yourself to safety than wait for me.” You could hear the truth that hummed throughout his voice, and it made your heart swell at his words. You reached out with your right arm and took hold of the hand resting on your lower left arm. You saw his eyes flash a little at the touch- as if you had finally given him what he was hoping for. You felt his hand (that was notably larger than yours, and somehow it made you feel safe to hold it) curl around yours, closing over your thin fingers and the back of your hand.

Boromir was suddenly struck with a longing to protect you. He began to realise now how harsh it would feel if he lost you in this battle, or if he was slain, and was parted from you. He was sure you had noticed as his expression deepened a little with emotion, but he never stopped gazing at you, at your cheeks that had returned to a rosy-red, your glimmering eyes, your slightly parted lips… he now decided that he couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t. Boromir remembered Aragorn’s words, how he was supposed to get you up as soon as you could, and granted, you seemed to be recovered, but to him it would feel like leading you straight to your death. He couldn’t do that to you… but surely it was more unsafe here?

You watched as Boromir turned his head to see how Aragorn was getting on with the orcs. Gimli and Legolas were now at his side, and heaps of uruk’s corpses were slumped across the floor around them, but still, there were more coming, and Aragorn’s face was bloodied, and he was taking more and more hits as the battle grew on. The others were tiring too, and Legolas’s arrows were growing scarce, the latter of them laying stuck in an orc’s body. Boromir decided that he had to get you out of here, or the whole Fellowship would be in danger.

You could sense his change now, and understood that he meant to get you to your feet. Without instruction, you stood up, wobbling a little, but Boromir soon rose up to steady you, and placed his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s get to safety. But don’t leave my side. Stay leaning against me, if you have to,” he told you, his voice now a little more strong. You looked up at him, holding his gaze for a moment, and noticed how close his face was to yours. There was an urge within you for a moment to feel his lips against yours, to satisfy the longing that had held you for so long, and to let him know how you really felt for him. But you knew this was not the place, and that time was running out, so instead, you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek—just a simple sign of affection, but enough for him to know that you were grateful, and that you cared for him, more than words could say. His skin felt soft against your lips and it was so soothing that you wanted to keep them there for eternity.

He looked startled for a moment, but in pleasant surprise rather than fear, but soon it broke out into a soft grin, and he strengthened his grip around your shoulder.

“Stay beside me,” he whispered, and you didn’t think you needed to be told.

*******

Down and down the sloping hill the battle was falling, and now everyone was growing desperate, using up their final strength to ensure the hobbits (and each other) got to safety. Boromir and you had been defending Merry and Pippin tirelessly, and the rest of the Fellowship formed a circle around you, fighting any orcs that threatened to get too close to the young hobbits. You desperately hoped that Frodo and Sam were safe, as you had no idea where they were; it was an overwhelmingly sickening thought to wonder if the worst had happened to them.

You and Boromir fought extremely well together, even with you clinging to his side. You had not got a scratch on you since he had offered to provide support throughout the battle, and Boromir had not got a scratch on him either. Legolas was shooting down the orcs with not a sign of fatigue, and Gimli was hacking away at their chests with his axe. Your eyes darted around to find Aragorn, and saw him pinned by an Uruk-hai against a tree, struggling desperately to break free. A wave of panic overcame you, and you undid a knife from your belt and flicked it towards the orc. It hit the orc square in the neck, and it staggered for a moment to stay upright, before releasing its hold on the ranger and dropping to the floor. Aragorn glanced at you briefly and smiled, then had to fight another attacker.

And all this time, Boromir had not let go of you. You span and slashed together, working with each other to kill any uruks that threatened to part the two of you. And oh, how you felt so safe with his arm around you. A tall, strong figure there to defend you, and you knew that he would never stop fighting for you, no matter how challenging it became. The sickening dread inside you began to flake away, and it gave way to a beam of hope that glowed promisingly, that perhaps, you would live to see Middle Earth freed from the clutches of Sauron.

#boromir x reader #fotr #lotr #my fanfic #boromir

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wordbunch · 1 year

Text

how the fellowship reacts to you singing...

a/n: this was requested - how the fellowship members react to you singing for the first time. It will include the fellowship boys + Faramir, because I adore him and he needs more love. let me know how you liked it! 💗💗💗 (it will be longer than you think lol)

+ tagging my beloved @entishramblings

ARAGORN

at first he wasn’t sure whether his ears were deceiving him

but he stopped and listened carefully, eventually realizing it was you

then all his attention went into listening to you

he very much enjoyed it, but waited for you to finish your little performance before saying anything (didn’t want to interrupt you, nor make you feel awkward)

he wouldn’t be giving you elaborate compliments and praise, just something short and to the point, but you’d see in his face that he genuinely loved it

he likes to listen to you sing, but also sometimes loves to join you and sing together!!!

wants to learn all the songs you know

💫

LEGOLAS

with his excellent hearing, he picked up on you humming tunes quietly as you walked, many times

and he found even that very pleasant

but when he heard you fully singing for the first time he had heart eyes, basically

he thought you have the most angelic, soothing yet powerful voice

he would never ask you to sing anything for him and wouldn’t want to push you, but he would enjoy it so much when you do

he wants to know where you picked up all the songs that you know

his absolute favorite thing is when you quietly sing while braiding his hair!!!!!

💫

GIMLI

an absolute fanboy of yours, openly

as soon as he hears you singing, he wouldn’t only divert his attention only to that...

but he’d make sure to point it out to everyone else as well

I diagnose him with singing off-key, butttt he still wants to share some dwarf songs with you, and you appreciate it

would be the kind of person to be like “now [Y/N] will sing something for all of us” skhssdhgsh

you know it’s all with the best intentions even if you feel self-conscious about your singing

but this guy right here would hype you up so much that eventually you wouldn’t even care how your voice sounds to others

💫

BOROMIR

he compliments the heck out of you (for singing and everything else)

however he would try not to openly praise you for it to everyone everywhere bc he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

keyword: he would try not to

he cannot sing so he appreciates your talent all the more

can’t help smilingggg whenever he hears you!

very grateful that you’re comfortable with sharing that part of yourself with him

if you ever actually sang in front of a crowd at some celebration or special occasion, this man would combust of pride

💫

FRODO

can’t help smiling as soon as he hears you, and he immediately recognizes that it’s your singing voice, even from further away

will sneakily approach you so as not to startle you

but he definitely wants to hear more

very curious about where you learned to sing and how you picked up all the songs

it’s a safe haven when you sing something to him, he will literally be in seventh heaven

loves to write and he would be beyond thrilled if you sang some poem that he wrote, but he wouldn’t actually ask you to

enjoys singing together with you

💫

SAM

is generally easily captivated by beautiful and magical things, your voice absolutely being one of them

will ask you countless times to sing again (but he will be quite shy about it every time)

gives you ideas on what you could sing about

he gives you cute little compliments but wishes he could express all that in a much more elaborate way

it brings him incredible joy to hear you singing from somewhere while he’s gardening

he swear it makes everything grow bigger and more luscious

God forbid anyone makes even a slightly negative comment about your singing, he is ready to throw hands

💫

MERRY

jaw drops to the floor when he hears your singing voice

this boy is captivated

smooth compliments that make you blush

why can I see him dancing/trying to dance to whatever you’re singing

potentially he’s not THE best singer out there but oh my does he love singing with you

especially spontaneously, out of nowhere

yes actually he would totally dance around when you sing, and he would dance around with you and spin you around until you’re so out of breath that you can’t sing anymore but instead just laugh heartily

💫

PIPPIN

generally worships the ground that you walk on, and that also implies all your talents and abilities

absolute heart eyes as soon as he hears you singing

(he already loves just listening to you talk, let alone anything else)

ADORES when you two sing together, but initially just a bit shy to suggest it, or to just spontaneously join you

will he come up with songs for you? absolutely

songs for you two to sing together? ABSOLUTELY

would never, in any way, push you to sing in front of everyone else, he actually enjoys it being like a lil thing between the two of you

💫

+ bonus FARAMIR

he heard your voice echoing in the Gondorian halls as you were carrying out some tasks

he was almost convinced it was a sound from heaven

but he followed the sound of it and found you!

you were a tiny bit embarrassed but he complimented you immediately

he finds it very relaxing when you sing to him and it’s so intimate to him

he will occasionally write poems and cautiously ask you whether you can make up some melody for them and turn them into songs

not the best singer, but loves to join you sometimes

💫

+ bonus bonus character GANDALF

“[Y/N], stop with the unnecessary noise, I am trying to think”

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vbee-miya · 1 year

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Hello! Could I get a written matchup for stranger things and lotr? I’m an intp with she/her pronouns. Im 20. I’m bi so any gender is fine. For personality I’m creative, introverted, and individualistic. Though I’m introverted, around my friends/when I’m comfortable I can be quite talkative and humorous. However, I definitely treasure my alone time the most. Im a very big homebody and can be very hermit introvert sometimes. As for bad traits, I am sometimes the worst pessimist when it comes to myself. I’ll be fine motivating others but then when it comes to me I live by the “be ready for the worst and you wont be disappointed” As for hobbies escaping to new worlds while reading books/comics, watching movies, and playing rpg video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi, though I do love a good classic from time to time. Apart from that, I love working out. My interests on the other hand are art focused. I’m currently in art school working with mostly digital mediums, though I sometimes work with traditional. I love my practice and everything including, game, web and interaction design, video art and visual effects, 3D modeling and character design, and digital illustration. Sometimes I whip out graphite and ink. A list of random likes: coffee, chai tea, dark chocolate, rock/blues/jazz/80s pop/soundtrack music, cafe art shows, arcades, comic book stores, purple, thai/Indian/Chinese food, roller blading to classic rock, quality alone time. A random list of dislikes: people i am unfamiliar with and have to make small talk with, the biting cold, rain, non fiction, staying too close to reality and not being allowed to daydream/imagine/roam freely in my thoughts, physical touch, overly crowded areas. I think that’s it thank you!

༺❀༻ matchup ༺❀༻

absolutely! (1) here's the lotr one

peregrin took

fool of a took

if im honest i was very much debating if i should’ve paired you up with someone from the hobbit even though the request said lotr reason being is that i think bard the fine bowman would’ve suit ya just fine.

anyways that’s was my little spiel, peregrin fool of a took. both of you share that almost introverted persona though if you ask me pippin does talk quite a lot and i don’t think it’s the beer doing that. when you’re around him he’s a blabbering mess story this story that song time with merry this dancing jig with merry that. you know your typical hobbit things.

one thing is for sure, he’d definitely get groovy to 80’s pop. that man knows his lyrics and dances. it’s only natural for a hobbit to know songs of all sorts anyways.

pip though no matter how much energy he’s got up his bones, he’ll take a moment to settle back down to reality and he’s pretty quick with it i’d say. instant sobriety. he would check up on you from time to time and would ask if you wanted to leave which he wouldn’t mind at all doing.

he’d support you in all your passions and even though you doubt yourself in some ways or another on pip’s radar he’s not letting that slide. he’ll give you words of encouragement and if that doesn’t work he’ll make sure it works. cause he’s a determined fella who just wants what’s best for the ones he loves.

headcanon, pippin definitely plays video games specifically any rpg games. you wouldn’t catch him playing over watch or any cod.

he’s not much of a work out fanatic, but if you want to go on a stroll around middle earth he probably wouldn’t be against it.

he would think your models and visual designs are the coolest thing ever and would constantly ask you how this how that. can this can that.

little headcanon that every morning a fresh cup of nicely brewed chai tea would be up and ready and a nice bark of thinly sliced dark chocolate bits would be sitting on the table ready for you. and i’d say all that was a last minute preparation before pippin would go hopping back to his bed.

#matchup *.·:·.✧#matchup #lotr matchup #lord of the rings #lord of the rings matchup #lotr headcanons #pippin x reader #peregrin took #pippin took #fool of a took

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mirkwoodshewolf · 9 months

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IATCOD Chap. 23; Guardian of the White city

*Author's note*

Jesus am I on a roll with this story or what? Already I think this is a far better improvement than my last LOTR fic cause I've got TOO deep into this story to just let it be abandoned. Now I was thinking whether or not to wait till I got the next chapter done before I posted this but I decided to just go ahead and post this chapter and I hope that sometime this week I'll finish up the next chapter and let you all enjoy a double update in one week (that is if I can do it but who knows).

Not much for warnings except this is mostly battle sequences, there's talk of male hierarchy (apologizes if this chapter ends up a bit too political but this is what Hela has dealt with, especially in Gondor and MOSTLY with Denethor II).

Also IMAGE BELOW IS NOT MINE!!!! CREDIT GOES TO THE CREATOR I'M JUST USING IT FOR VISUAL PURPOSES ONLY.

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@thats-s0-ravenn

_________________________________________________________

After the beacons were successfully lit, I had ran towards the armory in search of my old Gondorian armor that I had forged myself when I was Captain of the tower guard. Now knowing Denethor I would’ve thought he’d had this destroyed or thrown out so that there was no more trace of a Celestial ever being here.

But surprisingly I had found it not in the chest I had kept it in, but in a special display near the King’s of old armories and weapons. The armor shined and my sword still sharp. As I finished fastening the last bit of my armor, I saw Haldir leaning against the doorway of our room.

“You wish to come and fight at my side.” I told him.

“I know you wish to protect me but I cannot take being locked up in this kingdom another second.”

“And I wasn’t going to let you. But I have one very specific request you must follow.” I walked up to him and reached up to his face. “When you see any Nazgul, do not engage with them. You will turn and ride as hard as you can.”

“I promise.” He said after a brief period of silence.

“Thank you, now come, our steed awaits near the gates.” I held the back of Haldir’s neck and used Makkari’s speed to get us there in just a few seconds where a dark brown horse with a white patch up along its nose stood. He let out a startled neigh before he huffed and shook his head. “So sorry Anárion. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Anárion?” questioned Haldir.

“Yes, this here was Boromir’s horse. Ever since his rider’s death, I sent a message to him to return home and await my arrival.” I reached out and touched Anárion’s nose and he let out a few huffs. “He’ll be our steed in battle. Now come, we don’t have much time.” We both got on top of Anárion and I ordered the guards to open the gate for us and soon I urged Anárion forward and with great speed, he rode us towards Osgiliath.

When we got within the city’s range, Haldir told me.

“The city’s overrun. Orc archers are up along the walls ahead of us.”

“Easy pickings.” My right wrist glowed and using Thena’s magic, I summoned a shield that stood just a few inches away from Anárion’s charging form and that was able to cover over both mine and Haldir’s heads like a roof. Orcs arrows bounced off the shield as we charged in and Haldir used his bow and arrow to fire from behind and kill the six archers that had been shooting at us.

As we rode deeper into the city, I took Aeglos off from around my chest and stuck his blade into the ground before dragging it across the graveled path. Thanks to some of Thena’s enhanced magic, his blade didn’t break as he was able to brig up some of the gravel and dust from the city floor to provide a good cover for some of the Gondorian soldiers or the Ithilien Rangers to use their weapons and strike the orcs down.

Anárion rode in a full gallop as I took back Aeglos and let out a battle cry holding him outward and impaled an orc from the back, raised its limped body in the air before it’s fly right off of Aeglos’s blade. Haldir used his bow and arrows to bring down any orc that tried to come at us.

I could sense a good number of lives being lost further into the city but the outer rim still needed aid.

“Take the reins!” I cried to Haldir.

“What?!”

“Just take the reins! Keep aiding the men along the outer perimeter of the city!” I quickly adjusted myself so that I was facing Haldir and his arms came around me to take the reins. “You elves aren’t the only ones with fancy moves.” I said smirking at him. He looked at me perplexed as I perked my brow at him and did a flip move that I learned from Cain.

I picked up my legs and I soon flipped over both Haldir and Anárion. When I had leapt, I was first curled into a ball but when I felt my legs coming towards the sky, I straightened myself out until I finally landed on my feet before some orcs that stood before me. Using Aeglos and my own strength, I took each of them down. Slicing off their limbs or twisting their necks with my bare hands.

I turned briefly to Haldir and gave him a firm nod and he gave me a nod back. He urged Anárion onward and I soon saw them both disappear into the battle. My admiration soon turned to hatred as I growled lowly and blocked an orc that had raised its mace at me and I used Aeglos’ staff to block it. I kicked the orc’s stomach to send him flying towards one of the buildings as three more tried to come at me.

Both Cain’s teachings and Thena’s powers were making my blood boil and adrenaline pumping. I crossed blades with two orcs while another one tried to come at me from the side. I pulled up a Celestial shield to block his attack then used that shield to disarm him allowing me to kick him and see his body skip like a rock on water.

I pushed back the two orcs I had crossed blades with and easily relieved them of their heads before I raced further into the city. Any orc that I came into contact with, received the full wrath of the Celestial of death and I gathered up as many men who still had a fighting chance to come aid with the town square of the city.

I leapt up along the old buildings and took down the orcs that were using the towers as high ground for their archers. I slammed one orc down onto the roof while I punched another orc right in the throat disabling him before I stuck Aeglos’ blade right through his skull.

But all too soon I heard them. Their piercing screams that felt like nails slowly scrapping across the floor. From the dark clouds I saw them riding on fellbeasts. The Nazgul had come.

I watched in horror as their fellbeasts swooped down like a dark shadow and began scooping up any Gondorian man they could find. I also could hear the men calling for a retreat and saw them all starting to ride back to Minas Tirith. My heart broke as I knew it to be true.

Osgiliath was lost.

Swallowing my fear, I took to the skies using Ikaris’ gemstone and flew off towards one of the nine who had about four guards in the claws of his fellbeast. As the demonic creature released them to fall to their deaths, I intervened and caught each of the men and carefully set them down.

“Make for Minas Tirith! GO!!” the men nodded and quickly took off running. I soon heard the screech and roar of both a Nazgul and a fellbeast heading towards me. I flew out of the way but both chased after me.

“Give up and surrender yourself Celestial of Death!” the Nazgul spoke to me.

“Over my dead body.” The fellbeast soon shot its neck forward and tried to capture me in its horrid jaws but I fired a couple of star bolts at it to deter it away from me. It let out a cry of pain as I took off flying away from it. Suddenly out of nowhere a second Nazgul came at me and nearly had me in his grasp but with some quick reflexes I was able to avoid his fell grip.

The two Nazgul soon took chase after me. So long as they targeted me and not the men, I can give them some time to reach the city. Oh I hope Haldir made good on his promise and is fleeing with the men now that the Raiths are here.

“Alright you guys, think your fellbeasts can beat the speed of the Starlights?” I then took off flying high above the clouds and the Nazgul continued to resume chase.

Their fellbeasts surrounded me and tried with both jaw and claws to catch me, but I was too fast for them. I fired more star bolts at them as well as their riders and I saw as they curled themselves inward at the power of my Starlight brother Ikaris.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the third Nazgul, and this one I did know by name. The second deadliest of the nine to ever be named, Khamûl The Easterling. His fellbeast roared in my face and I was suddenly struck with fear as these creatures (much like their masters) had a fell air about them that made anyone feel utter fear and despair. Khamûl then grabbed hold of my throat and I struggled in his grip as he hissed at me.

“They will all die. And you shall watch them.” The two Nazgul dove back down to attack the retreating Gondorian armies and Haldir while Khamûl still had me in his grasp. He pulled me up to him and my vision soon became hazy as I felt the affects of the Black breath come onto me.

I tried to resist and use my own powers to overpower the dark aura of the Black breath but Khamûl was not to be trifled with. Next to Angmar himself, he is the second most deadliest of the Nine. Both in life and in death he was a foul, foul man. However, unlike if I had been the Celestial I was back then I would’ve easily given in.

It took everything I had to muster the Starlight’s Blaze within me. Those men, Haldir, the people of Gondor. My body slowly flickered until my eyes glowed pure starlight and I said to him.

“You will not hurt any of these men! Khamûl the Damned!!!” I then felt a burst of light burst out of me and I heard Khamûl let out an agonizing scream as both he and his fellbeast recoiled from my Starlight blaze and took off flying.

As quick as the attack came, it was snuffed out and the affects of the Black breath had fully taken over me and I felt myself falling from the skies and my vision went dark.

*3rd Person POV*

While the men and Haldir made their retreat from Osgiliath and rode to Minas Tirith with all their might, they thought that thanks to the Lady Celestial they would be home free with no orcs or Nazgul chasing them. But their hope was soon snatched away as two of the Nazgul came swooping down and attacked them. Grabbing either men alone or men plus their horses before allowing them to fall from a great height to their deaths.

Haldir kept watch on the skies not seeing Hela in sight, his heart pounded fearing the worst when he noticed up ahead Gandalf and Pippin riding on Shadowfax charging head on to aid them. Suddenly from the clouds burst a powerful bright light and it aimed for the backs of the Nazgul. Haldir had seen that kind of light before and he knew exactly who it was that was making it. It was also at that moment, Haldir saw Gandalf used his own staff to aid the bright light that had shone down from the dark clouds.

With no way of flying back to Osgiliath, the Nazgul fled towards the mountains as Gandalf soon joined the men in leading them back to the city. But Haldir still caught no sight of Hela from the clouds, that was until he had seen her falling and unable to stop herself.

“HYAH!!” Haldir urged Anárion with great haste, Boromir’s steed ran with what almost felt like the speed of Makkari. But even with all his speed, Hela seemed to be getting closer and closer to the ground with no chance of slowing down. Something had to be wrong, Haldir could feel it in his gut. “HELA WAKE UP!!” he cried but that still didn’t seem to rouse her awake.

Finally Hela landed with a loud BOOM. And Haldir was just barely a few short feet from reaching her. Anárion reared and neighed fearfully at not only the sound but seeing that Hela had not moved ever since her fall. Haldir quickly got off his saddle and raced towards Hela.

“Hela! Hela!” Haldir knelt down beside her and pressed his head over her heart and could hear it beating. He breathed a sigh of relief but it was gone for a moment when he could see no physical injury but her face had looked even paler than it normally was.

Very carefully, he picked her up in his arms and placed her on top of the saddle before mounting just behind her. He allowed Hela to lean against his chest and he urged Anárion onward back towards the city.

Back in the city, Gandalf and the soldiers of Gondor and the Ithilien Rangers immediately began to pile the city gates after just barely escaping with their lives after a long night’s battle.

“Mithrandir!” Gandalf turned around and saw Faramir riding his horse towards them. “They broke through our defenses. They’ve taken the bridge and the west bank. Battalions of Orcs are crossing the river.”

“It is as the Lord Denethor predicted. Long has he foreseen this doom.” Spoke one of the soldiers as he unmounted his horse.

“Foreseen and done nothing!” snapped Gandalf. When Gandalf had urged Shadowfax to fully turn around, Faramir caught sight of Pippin riding in front of his mentor and friend and was taken back at the sight of yet another halfling in his sight. “Faramir?”

Pippin taking notice of Faramir’s intense gaze upon him, slightly turned his head away almost trying to make himself invisible when Gandalf realized why Faramir was looking at him the way he was.

“This is not the first halfling to have crossed your path.” Faramir shook his head and replied with a verbal no. At that statement, Pippin’s eyes grew wide as he stared up at Faramir and asked him.

“You’ve seen Frodo and Sam?” Faramir nodded.

“Where? When?” asked Gandalf urgently.

“In Ithilien. Not two days ago.” Pippin looked up at Gandalf in pure joy while Gandalf’s heart raced in relief. Oh such a blessed news to know that the two hobbits were still alive and had not been gone from this city in barely three days. But Gandalf’s relief was hindered as Faramir told him, “Gandalf, they’re taking the road to the Morgul Vale.”

“And then the pass of Cirith Ungol.” Gandalf finished, his eyes widened in fear. Faramir nodded again.

“What does that mean? What’s wrong?” asked Pippin. But Gandalf didn’t hear the young hobbit’s question as he urgently demanded to Faramir.

“Faramir, tell me everything. Tell me all you know.” But before Faramir could say a word, another voice broke through the crowd.

“Help! Help! Mithrandir help! It’s Hela!” the three of them turned and soon riding up was Haldir with Hela. The three of them turned to Haldir and their eyes widened in shock (mostly Pippin’s and Gandalf’s). “She has yet to awaken. And she fell straight down to the earth like a fallen star. Physically I cannot see any injuries but I’m still worried.” Haldir explained.

“Set her down.” Gandalf told Haldir. Haldir got off of Anárion and carefully took Hela into his arms and set her down on the floor. Gandalf and Pippin got off of Shadowfax and Pippin quickly went up to Hela and touched her face.

“She feels cold. Gandalf what’s happened to her?”

“The Nazgul.” Faramir answered. Pippin looked up at him. “I’ve seen this happen many times since they’ve arrived to haunt this very city. Some have claimed that this is a technique they use to petrify their victims.”

“Yes. It is a technique known as the Black breath.”

“Is she going to die?” asked Pippin fearfully. Haldir turned to the halfling offended he’d even suggest such a thing.

“To some they have.” Answered Faramir.

“But to Hela it surely won’t. But she has taken a great amount to render her unconscious.” Gandalf gently pushed Pippin aside and pressed his hand to Hela’s forehead and began to softly chant a healing spell to awaken her.

As the men began to take notice of a woman wearing Gondorian armor on the ground, they started to crowd but Faramir ordered them to give her some air and let Gandalf do his job. Suddenly Hela let out a gasp as her chest began heaving.

“Steady Hela, steady my dear girl.”

*My POV*

One moment I was in nothing but complete darkness and the next I suddenly felt myself shooting upwards awake and I tried to fight whoever was in front of me but when I caught sight of both Gandalf and Haldir, and Gandalf’s voice slowly becoming clearer from my fuzzy hearing.

“Hela, steady my dear girl.”

“Gandalf?”

“Yes, I’m here. And you’re lucky to be here too. If you weren’t who you are and had had that much Black breath affected you, you’d be beyond any help.” I then turned to Haldir and was relieved to see him alive and in one peace. I embraced him to which I felt him tense up slightly but he instantly wrapped his arms around me.

“I was so worried they’d—”

“You and Mithrandir saved all of us. How are you though? You were the one who fell from the sky at great speed and fell straight into the earth.”

“Did I? I—don’t recall that.” Haldir looked at me to see if I was jesting but one look in my eye and he knew I wasn’t. Truly I don’t remember anything after I had unleashed the Starlight’s blaze on Khamûl. Suddenly I felt another body collide into mine and I looked down to see that it was Pippin.

“Oh Pip.” I said lovingly as I embraced him.

“You were as cold as death, no pun intended with you being the—but I had feared you were…..”

“Shhhh. It’s alright Pip. I’ll be okay. Takes more than some Nazgul to break me.”

“As I live and breathe, Gandalf spoke the truth.” Pippin and I looked up and at first I thought I was seeing double. The man before almost resembled Boromir to a T but he was younger, had a slight lighter shade of hair color and wore the uniform of the Ithilien Rangers. He looked at me in pure awe.

“Hela, this is Faramir. He said he had seen Frodo and Sam.” My heart leaped in rejoice as I stood up with Haldir’s help and asked him.

“You have? Where? When?”

“As I told Gandalf and your halfling friend just moments ago. Not two days ago in Ithilien. But they have taken the road to the Morgul Vale.”

“What?!” I asked fearfully. “But that leads to—”

“Cirith Ungol. Yes. Faramir was about to tell us everything he knew before your ranger friend came to us with you unconscious.” Gandalf told me. Knowing to keep Haldir’s true identity a secret I turned back to Faramir and asked him.

“Yes. Please tell us all you know of what happened when you came across our friends.” Faramir nodded then ordered any and all guards to take the wounded to be healed not in the House of Healing, but in the secondary medical Halls. I found it strange Faramir would not have his men go to the main healing house but that would have to be a question for another time.

Faramir soon guided us away back towards the royal stables to put Shadowfax, Anárion and Faramir’s horse away. All the while, Faramir explained to us everything that had happened when he came across Frodo and Sam. To me, it comes as no surprise that Gollum finally tracked down his ‘precious’ and by taking them to Cirith Ungol, I knew he was leading them there just to reclaim his precious back.

For a creature has made that her nest for centuries and only one time did I encounter her and that was when Druig, Makkari and I first went into Mordor when we were younglings. I’ll never forget the first time we saw her, we barely escaped with our lives and Druig still had the scar of her bite to this day on his chest. All to save me.

As our horses were now untacked and could now rest in the comfort of the stable, a messenger soon came forth and he said.

“Lord Faramir, your father requests to see you and the Lady Celestial right away.”

“Tell my father we will be there shortly.” Faramir told the messenger.

“He’s insisting now. Especially you my lady Celestial.” Oh no, this could only mean one thing.

“Tell him we’re on our way. But tell him that he may unleash his wrath upon me first before he even speaks a word to his son.”

“Hela,” Pippin started.

“Pip, you keep practicing your initiation. I’ll even have Gandalf or Rahl quiz you.” I looked down at him, giving him a firm look to not say another word on the manner. “Come Faramir, let us see what your father wishes to speak to us about.” As I took a step, I felt myself suddenly grow faint as I suddenly staggered forward like a newborn foul but both Haldir and Faramir caught my arms.

“Perhaps I should accompany you Hela.” Haldir tried to offer but I told him.

“Lord Denethor has required only our presence. I dare not allow you to be taken under his wrath and scrutiny. Please return to our room Rahl and take some rest.” I looked at him with soft pleading eyes and as stubborn as this elf is, he abide my request.

“As you wish.” I mouthed a thank you to him as Faramir took off and helped guide me to the throne room.

“You sure you do not wish to seek a healer my lady? The Black breath of the Nazgul is no wound to tread lightly.”

“I appreciate your concern young lord. Unlike most of your men who have in some cases been petrified to death, the Black breath has never gone that far with me. I may have some fainting spells now and then and quite possible some nightmares at night but that is all the damage they can do to me with their accursed breath.”

“If you are sure, but if you do need any assistance, I will do what I can to help aid you.” I gave him a loving thank you as he continued to guide me to the throne room.

When I felt like I was able to walk on my own, Faramir reluctantly allowed me to take a few steps until he could see for himself that I was now fine. And it was at that moment we had arrived at the doors of the throne room. We entered inside and I held Faramir back so that I could go first.

He looked at me with the same reluctance but I assured him with a firm nod as I held my head up high and slowly walked towards Denethor who glared down at me from his throne with Perses and Deimos at his side.

As I stopped before his throne, I put my hands behind my back and stood at attention while Denethor stood up from his throne, a menacing look in his eye. He came down from the throne, stood face to face with me before winding his hand back and gave me a hard backhand across the face. His ring giving me a small cut as my breathing harshened and I soon turned back to him.

“Ever you have wanted to prove your worth more to the World of Men. Celestials prancing about thinking they were superior to us. Claiming to teach us, when all you do is look down upon us like we’re scum. Like we can’t fight our own battles! Treating us no better than children. Or an undisciplined pet.”

“I did what I judged to be right Denethor.”

“What you judged to be right!?” he sneered lowly.

“The Celestial has ruined the plans I had given the men at Osgiliath. Now because of her, the city is lost!” Deimos proclaimed.

“Those men all through the night were greatly outnumbered and outmatched. There was no victory to which there would be any survivors had I not intervened.” I said trying to keep my cool. “Denethor, your men were lead into a massacre. How is there victory in a fight such as that?”

“Osgiliath was our only line of defense, now it is lost because of you.” Denethor hissed in my face, his hot breath dancing across my skin as he shook with rage. He turned to go back to his throne as Deimos said.

“If I may have permission my lord, I could teach this Celestial what happens when a soldier goes out of line.” I saw the gleam of a silver blade shine at his hip as his red eyes grew crazed as he stared down at me with a lustful desire for blood.

“Deimos. Out of the two of you the Lady Hela could easily take you down with just the flick of her wrist.” Perses spoke up. Deimos growled as he turned his attention to Perses.

“And what of you old man? I seem to recall you screaming for mercy as I had you weaponless.”

“What must be taken to order is a punishment that fits the crime. Exile would do no good nor would death even stop the Celestial of Death. Imprisonment is useless for there’s no cell strong enough to keep her.” Perses said.

“Perhaps there is a punishment best fitted for someone of your—stature.” Denethor said with a malicious grin. “Perses, take her to the East wing and have her fitted for her new duties.” Perses bowed his head then he came down before me and gestured for me to follow him.

Of course Denethor would put me in this position believing it would humiliate me. Having served as councilor to the King of Gondor, then fought alongside the armies as one of the tower guards, eventually moving up the ranks as Captain. Some had even called me the Guardian of the White city, but now at Denethor’s command, I have been sentenced to the ranks of scullery maid.

Now wearing mere peasant rags and given a bucket and rag just to clean the very floors of this entire palace. I dipped my rag into the bucket of water and then proceeded to scrub the floors as hard as I could in order to give it that ‘mirror-like quality’ as per Lord Denethor’s orders.

I wiped the sweat from my brow having already been at this for hours and I let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“This is my thanks to the city?” I scoffed shaking my head. “To now be no better than a servant and for what? Saving the lives of his own soldiers.”

“It was well noble of you my lady.” I looked up to see Faramir standing at the end of the hall before coming over to me. “We would have lost double the amount of men had you not come to aid us.” I dropped my rag and wiped my hands against the apron of my raggedy gown and went to curtsy to him. “Please, none of that my lady Celestial.” I stood naturally as he stood just a few inches from me. “My apologies on his behalf. If it were up to me, you’d be rewarded for your valiant deed, not submitted to such a degree of hard labor.”

“Well your father’s not the first Man to try and degrade me for being a female warrior. And he won’t be the last I’m afraid.”

“I hope as payment, you should at least deserve this back.” He soon handed me my Gondorian armor that I was forced to surrender before being given these rags. I smiled and took it from his arms and said as I stroked the White tree engraved on the chest plate.

“Truthfully I would’ve thought your father would’ve had this either destroyed or thrown out. I was surprised to see it in such a display and in good condition too.”

“That’s because a young man of the city took great honor in caring for it. A very foolish one. Who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending to his studies.”

“You did that?” I said astounded.

“Yes. When Gandalf told me the stories of the Celestial of Death serving and protecting our city, I knew such an armor had to be taken great care of till she returned.” He then bowed his head to me in respect.

“And I thank you Faramir. If only you had been there when I first made this armor. Most of the men couldn’t believe their eyes, said they’d roll in their graves at the day a woman would be Captain of the Tower guard. And boy did they.” The two of us softly laughed before he told me.

“People doubted me too. Boromir was always the soldier.” His tone grew solemn as he continued, “They were so alike he and my father. Proud, stubborn even, but strong.” I set my armor down to the floor and placed my hand to his shoulder. The two of us stared into each other’s eyes and I told him.

“Both you and your brother share the same fighting spirit. But I also see in your eyes strength of a different kind. And I know your brother saw it. He spoke so highly of you during our time together.” Faramir’s eyes held a sense of sorrow for the loss of his big brother.

“How did it truly happen?” he asked me. “I had heard one side from your other hobbit friends that passed through here. Was it truly because of the Ring he died?”

“The Ring tempted your brother and took him yes, but it was not because of the Ring he died. He kept his honor as Captain of the Guard, a true noble warrior and Man of Gondor by aiding me, Pippin and another hobbit friend of ours from an army of Uruk-hai. Saving my life from an Uruk’s blade with two arrows already in his body. It wasn’t until the third arrow that he was unable to fight anymore. Your brother died a hero’s death.” I watched as Faramir swallowed hardly as he took in the true story of his brother’s death.

“Now I know at least he did not die with darkness in his heart. And that he died the way he would’ve wanted to go. Fighting to his last breath.” I smiled solemnly at him and gave him a soft nod before embracing him.

Almost immediately Faramir embraced me back and I could feel the wetness from his tears as they slowly slid down and landed onto my shirt. Neither of us spoke a word until I knew his moment of grieving had passed.

After it passed, he offered me a spot to witness Pippin being sworn in as the new guard of the Citadel. I looked down at the floor and said to him.

“I think your father would greatly see my head on a platter if I were to disobey his orders.”

“You were charged to follow the orders of the Steward and his sons, were you not? By order of Perses.” The way he spoke his name held some sort of venom to it. So not even Faramir trusts him.

“Aye, that was his command.”

“Then as the youngest son of the current Steward, I order you to stand at my side and watch your friend be sworn in. I have a feeling he’ll need you there for him.” Since it was to be announced that Pippin was going to be sworn in at this very hour, Pippin had been sitting in a shroud of anxiety and insecurity. He had begged me to write down the oath for him because he had already forgotten what he was supposed to say (of course I obeyed his wish).

“I take it you have met him.”

“Yes. A noble heart your friend has. Even said the same thing you had told me about my strength, as well as my father hoping to see that one day.” I could already see it in his eyes. Heck even Boromir has told me during our time at Rivendell of how much his father verbally discriminated Faramir for his own victories in favor of his (Boromir’s) own.

Truthfully I hope Pippin’s right. In my experience with Denethor, they weren’t always in positive light for he held a deep-rooted jealousy and hatred for both Aragorn and myself respectfully during our time here.

“First let me return this armor to my room as well as check on my friend who helped me to aid you.” He nodded and picked my armor back up before handing it to me and I walked off back towards my room where Haldir was mending the wound on his arm. “You got hurt?” I said racing over to him as I dropped my armor. He took my hands into his as he assured me.

“Thankfully it was just a graze unlike the wound I had received at Helm’s Deep.” Haldir looked me up and down and he said with venom in his tone. “He didn’t.”

“Afraid so. Been demoted all the way down to scullery maid. Thankfully Faramir is allowing me to see Pippin be sworn in. After all I am to serve not only the Steward but his sons as well, as per Perses’ orders.”

“A loop-hole. Does Denethor know of that slipped detail?”

“One way to find out. You sure you’ll be okay up here on your own for a while?”

“I’ve had my fixture of battle and air for the day. Go and support your friend.” I nodded.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.”

“I know you will, don’t fret over me.”

“Old habits.” I softly smiled at him and he gave me an encouraging nod to go on my way. I shut the door and sighed deeply before racing off towards the throne room to meet with Faramir so that we could enter together.

“If my father should question why you left your post, I’ll take the blame.”

“No Faramir, I cannot let—”

“I won’t allow you to be scorned by my father anymore throughout your time here Lady Hela.”

“You are willing to take the rod for me even though we barely know each other?” he nodded. “And there is no chance I am going to convince you otherwise, is there?”

“If you wish to debate we can, but I get the feeling you’d rather be there for your friend rather than trade words with the Captain of the guard.” He’s clever I’ll give him that. Druig was the same way when it came trying to out-best any one of us in a debate, especially with Ikaris (boy he loved to toy with him a lot. Same with Hermes).

“You’re very kind Faramir.”

“Only doing what is right my lady.”

“Promise to call me Hela and no longer add any formalities and I’ll willingly keep my mouth shut around your father.” He softly chuckled before we both entered the throne room together side by side.

There we saw Pippin standing just a few feet away from the foot of the Steward’s black throne, some additional court members scattered throughout the room, Perses (as always) at Denethor’s side.

“I thought I had sent you away to have the corridor floors cleaned?” Denethor snapped at me.

“My Lord I ordered her to be my personal handmaid for the time being. As is command, she is to also obey my orders as well.” Denethor sneered then Perses spoke out.

“Yes, so it was as command. But the young woman must refrain from speaking until the initiation has been complete.” I bowed my head in acceptance to Perses (even though I loathed to do it) then he turned his attention back down to Pippin. “Peregrin Took, son of Paladin Took. You stand before the council and the Lordship of Gondor to pledge your loyalty to this city. Please recite the oath of the tower guard.”

Pippin knelt down with his left knee forward and he soon recited the oath that I had taught him.

“Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor. In peace or war, in living or dying. F….from…..” C’mon Pip, you know this. I could hear him faintly muttering the oath under his breath as he continued, “from this hour henceforth until my Lord release me—or death take me.”

“And I shall not forget it.” Denethor said. He stood up from his throne and stood before Pippin as he held out his ringed finger for Pippin to kiss as he continued, “nor fail to reward that which is given.” Internally I scoffed at Denethor’s demeanor towards Pippin. I saw as Pippin finally sealed his fate by kissing Denethor’s ring before the Steward cupped his chin to force him to look up at him as he continued, “Fealty with love, valor with honor. Disloyalty with vengeance.”

Denethor walked over towards a large table where various foods had been spread out and I saw his eyes come towards Faramir and I as he said the ‘disloyalty with vengeance’ phrase. Pippin rose up and turned towards me and I gave him a soft but proud nod. Denethor snapped his fingers and like a dog I was forced to come over to him.

“Prepare for me the best arrangement of food.”

“Yes my lord.” I spoke lowly as I began reaching out for various food items for him to consume, he then spoke to his son.

“I do not think we should lightly abandon the outer defenses, defenses that your brother long held intact.”

“What would you have me do?” asked Faramir and immediately his father responded.

“I will not yield the river in Pelennor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken.” Is he crazy? Those men were lucky to get out of there alive just barely this morning and now he’s going to send them back there?!

“My lord Osgiliath is overrun.” Faramir tried to reason with his father but it fell on deaf ears.

“Much must be risked in war.” Why is it when he said that, it sounded like Deimos was talking to him now? “Is there a captain here who still has the courage to do his lord’s will?” yes me! If you want Osgiliath back, send me! No need to waste anymore lives that had already been lost to you.

Then after a long period of silence, Faramir would say something that would break my heart for the rest of my days.

“You wish now that our places had been exchanged. That I had died and Boromir had lived.” As Denethor picked up a chalice of wine he spoke in a dazed whisper but it held so much truth behind it.

“Yes. I wish that.” My heart broke for Faramir. All he ever wanted was his father’s approval and love and now to be told this just before you send him off on a suicide mission?! I turned to Faramir and could already see the tears forming in his eyes but he kept a strong face as he said to his Lord.

“Since you were robbed of Boromir…I will do what I can in his stead.” He bowed his head to Denethor and proceeded out of the throne room. Pippin and I watched in shock and heartbreak at Faramir’s decision to die for a father that openly admitted to wish that he were dead and his eldest son were still alive. “If I should return, think better of me father.” Faramir said brokenly before walking off again, hoping for one last stretch of love from his father.

But all Denethor said was this in a sneer.

“That will depend on the manner of your return.” Once Faramir was gone, I slammed his tray down, scattering the food and even denting the table itself.

“HE IS YOUR SON!!” I shouted. “Your only living son no less! How can you treat him this way!?”

“Faramir knows his worth to this city and his family’s name.”

“So you will send him and those men to die for your honor! Have them all die in your name whilst you sit on your arse and engorge yourself in food and wine!”

“They will die doing what’s right for Gondor.” Denethor rose up from his seat as he and I stood almost chest to chest staring each other down.

“Boromir would be ashamed to be your son if he heard what you have told his little brother! He was more of a father than you’ll ever be!”

“And your Celestial kin would be greatly disappointed for you not willing to free them. With all your power and nearly an Age since you became the Last Celestial of Middle Earth. What do you think they would tell you?” I clenched my fists tightly as they shook with rage and I glared at him.

But right now I couldn’t bear to sit behind and watch as Faramir and those brave men throw their lives away.

“Your father and your father’s father roll in their graves. You, Denethor II are an insect amongst men who governed before you.” I knew that would get to him. His own body shook with rage as I summoned my Celestial armor back over the rags I was forced to wear before retreating to find Faramir but also to contact an old friend for additional help.

*3rd Person POV*

There was silence in the city as the people gathered to watch their soldiers march back to Osgiliath in full Gondorian armor. But there was no hope in their eyes, nor cheers of praise or good luck, for they all knew that these soldiers would not be coming back alive.

Some began to throw down flowers along the graveled pathway as their horses slowly walked down the city towards the gates. Some of the soldiers took the flowers from people’s hands as their last gift they would be given. Suddenly a voice broke through the crowd.

“Faramir! Faramir!” Faramir, who was leading his men up front, turned to see Gandalf walking through the crowd until he came up and walked beside his horse. “Your father’s will has turned to madness! Do not throw away your life so rashly.”

“Where does my allegiance lie if not here? This is the city of the Men of Númenor. I will gladly give my life to defend her beauty, her memory, her wisdom.” As Faramir spoke, Gandalf could already tell that Faramir had lost all hope in ever obtaining what he longed for most.

The love and approval of his father. And without it, there was just no sense in trying anymore. So he’ll do the one thing he can do, die trying.

“Your father loves you, Faramir.” Gandalf assured him as Faramir rode on. “He will remember it before the end.” Suddenly riding pass through the crowds riding on Boromir’s horse was Hela, with her cloak on and the hood covering her head. She rode forward and came before Faramir to stop him in his tracks. Faramir’s horse nickered alarmed but stopped which caused the army to stop.

“Hela, this is not your fight. By order of the Steward’s son, I ask you to step aside.”

“You think you could really order me around, little brother?” she removed the hood to reveal her eyes glowing of pure white light. Faramir’s soulless eyes began to sparkle with a brief sense of light.

“Boromir.” Hela’s voice then spoke with both her voice as well as Boromir’s mixed together.

“Hela told me what father has said to you. Please little brother, I know we have been through much together in our lives and you have followed me everywhere but I ask you to cease now. Do not follow me into death.”

“If not me then who will?” asked Faramir brokenly. “Your reclaim over Osgiliath has fallen because of me. To not fight for your honor would shame me.”

“Forget your honor then!” Boromir’s voice rose. “I made my choice when I had fallen down my path. You—you have always been smarter than my little brother. For once in your life do not be stupid as I have been!”

“I am sorry brother. But I must do what I can do defend this city.” Faramir then guided his horse around Hela and Boromir’s horse and the men did as their commander did as they finally came to the gates.

“Faramir.” Boromir whimpered as Hela’s eyes returned to normal and she quickly rode back to the palace, her face buried into Boromir’s horse’s mane.

Once the armies of Gondor were out of the city, they formed two long lines and rode onward to the fallen city they had barely escaped from earlier that same day. The banners of the white tree waving proudly in the breeze as they rode onward.

Soon the orcs began to emerge from the ruins of the city to see what their next move was. Even they knew that these men were riding towards their deaths.

Back inside the throne room, Denethor was eating his meal with Pippin at his side, there was no one else but the two of them and they stood there in silence until Denethor asked Pippin.

“Can you sing master hobbit?” Pippin turned to the Steward and said.

“Well….yes. At least, well enough for my own people. But we have no songs for great halls and—evil times.”

“And why should your songs be unfit for my halls?” Denethor said. His chin stained with juices from the grapes he had just eaten. “Come sing me a song.” He then demanded as he kept eating his feast. Pippin slowly turned his gaze away from the selfish, gluttonous Steward and sung a song that was held in his heart.

Whilst out there on the fields of Pelennor, Faramir lead his army in full charge knowing full well that none of them, not even him would make it out alive. The orcs of Osgiliath all gathered around the edge of the city and their archers readied their arrows to fire at the oncoming Calvary.

*Pippin*

Home is behind the world ahead

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadow to the edge of night

Until the stars are all alight.

Mist and shadow

Cloud and shade

All shall fade

All shall….

Fade

Arrows whistled and the sound of the thunderous hooves were quickly silenced from the fields.

As Pippin finished his song, he turned to Denethor to see if there was even a hint of any remorse or grief at knowing what he had done. But Denethor kept that blank stare as he kept stuffing his face with food. Pippin lowered his head in anguish as he had never felt this level of heart break in his life.

Meanwhile, up in Hela and Haldir’s room; the two were both on the floor up against the bed as Hela wept into Haldir’s lap. Tears streamed down her face as she could hear every last one of those soldier’s heartbeats stop and felt their souls leave to the great beyond. Clenching her heart in pain as she tried to suppress the pain but it was all too great for her.

Haldir, could only hold his Celestial in his arms. Hoping that just being there for her would ease her pain, but he knew deep down there wasn’t anything else he could do for her. This was a burden that she had to deal with thousands of times, and thousands of times she’ll have to bear it then.

Suddenly she stood up and like a risen corpse, she soullessly walked out of the room to head for the tombs of the Kinds and Stewards of Gondor to seek peace and council with the dead.

*Haldir’s POV*

No matter how hard she tries, no matter how strong she becomes, there will always come pain whenever a soul passes away from Middle Earth, for Hela will always feel it. And for a ‘Lord of the city’ to send those soldiers to be massacred and not care what happens to them? This is what confuses me about mortal Men.

Why must their pride and stubbornness govern their correct judgement in battle and war? Now all those lives, including his only remaining son are now dead. Who now will defend this city if not Hela? Mithrandir? Or even Denethor himself?

I retook Hela’s cloak and put it back around me and headed out. I will allow Hela to have some alone time, right now there was a cause of action that needed to be taken. What Hela and I did when we first came here, find out just who the three council members of Denethor are.

As I walked back towards the underground library, I passed by a room where Perses’ voice spoke up.

“So how many does this make now Nergal?” huh? I quickly raced back and pressed my back against the wall right where the door was cracked open.

“This makes 998 souls in total.” Answered Nergal.

“Grah! Why are we wasting our time with this? We should make our move now!” I heard an unfamiliar voice speak. Could this be the third one that neither Hela nor I have come across yet?

“What you severely lack is patience Deimos. If we leave in a hurry, Hela and the wizard will think that we’re up to no good.” Answered Perses.

“We have been wasting over 40 years here! If we are to attack, the time is now before the riders of Rohan come!” The voice, Deimos replied harshly.

“The bond between Gondor and Rohan is severely damaged. Thanks to us, Gondor was unable to aid Rohan in their time of need at Helm’s Deep. Theoden wouldn’t dare answer the call to a kingdom who didn’t come to help him.” I heard Nergal say. “One thing I know is the poison that severs old alliances, mortal pride. And Denethor clearly showed that the loss of his son was greater than that of Rohan’s safety, much less his own city’s.”

Mortal pride? The way Nergal spoke about mortality sounded similar to the way my kin spoke of the world of Men. Their mortality, their pride, stubbornness, their brief lives.

“Plus we must continue to be cautious. Hela has been poking around trying to figure out just who we are. After all she has been Gondor’s aiding Celestial since the days of Elendil.”

“With the massacre I convinced Denethor to agree on, she’ll be out of commission for a while.” I heard what almost sounded like a lustful moan from behind the door from Deimos “I can still taste the blood in the air.” Deimos said.

“Enough of your demonic pleasures Deimos. We must proceed on with phase 2 of our plan whilst the orcs move into the city. And this time, the Lady Hela will play a big part in our plan.” Perses told him.

“And just how will you convince her? As we have already said, she’s suspicious of us and will not come willingly.” Nergal said.

“Which is why we won’t go for her directly. Deimos, answer this riddle for me; A Mighty warrior goes to war. Unlike those who are of brute strength, this warrior is cunning. He makes more armies surrender than any other soldier before him. How does he do it?” I thought of the riddle in my head but never before have I heard this one.

“The heart. He goes for their heart.” Oh no! Mithrandir and the halfling! I must warn them. I raced out of the corridor and searched for them throughout the palace but I couldn’t find either of them anywhere! As I came around another corridor I noticed two guards up ahead and saw as they turned to me.

I moved Hela’s hood to cover more of my face and slowly turned back but saw three more guards coming towards me blocking my way out. With no other choice, I walked a ways out and told the guards in front of me.

“Is there a problem gentlemen?”

“You are the Ranger that accompanied the Lady Celestial to Gondor, are you not?” one of the guards in front of me said.

“If I am? There’s no law against Rangers from entering the city is there?”

“There is if he doesn’t show his face. A man who hides under his cloak like a shadow is a coward, if not an enemy spy.” One of the bigger guards that stood behind me said.

“I assure you I am no spy to the enemy. If anything the spies you seek are within your own council.” I told them. I evaluated just how many of them surrounded me, their weapons on hand, as well as how they would try to overwhelm me by trying to come at me all at once (as per the usual move men usually do when facing an enemy).

“You’re coming with us, outsider.” Said the tallest guard out of all of them.

“And if I refuse?” I questioned as I slowly reached for my dagger.

“Then we take you by force.” He replied as they all surrounded me from every side, closing any chance of a quick escape. I eyed all five of them before they all came at me.

I swiftly took out my dagger and ducked as I sliced at one of their legs, right behind their calves where there was no protection before coming back up and managed to block another guard’s dagger with mine. Our blades crossed before I threw him back and that’s when I felt a rope come around my neck pulling me back against an armored chest.

I struggled and tried to free myself but my vision was quickly going black. In one final attempt, I headbutted the guard who had me by the throat which caused him to drop the rope and release me. Quickly taking a deep gasp of air I grabbed my dagger and tried to throw it at the man who had nearly choked me to death, but something felt off.

My arm was frozen in place. Suddenly my hand twisted oddly and I was forced to drop my dagger. As I gripped onto my wrist trying to stop it from bending back any further, my arm suddenly shot to the left then to the right before I felt myself crumbling down towards the ground.

This sensation was unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It was like my own body was beyond my control.

‘You really thought we’d go for the wizard or the Halfling?’ a voice said in my head.

“Deimos.” I whispered painfully.

‘There’s no one closer to Hela than you, Haldir of Lórien.’ How did he know my true name? I soon felt my hands being forced to grab Hela’s hood and no matter how hard I tried to fight, his will was stronger than mine as I revealed my true identity to the guards.

“Bind him!” Deimos’s voice soon echoed through the room and the guards soon came at me with ropes and shackles. “Wait!” the guards soon stopped. “Gag him as well.” Deimos spoke in amusement. Soon my mouth was forced open by their grubby hands as a rag was forced around my mouth and I was dragged out of the palace like a dog. ‘Now what say we take a little rest for a while?’

Suddenly my senses were hazy as my will to fight, or even move vanished and I felt myself go limp against the guards.

*3rd Person POV*

What was unaware to anyone, including Deimos, was that a small creature had witnessed the whole thing from just behind one of the columns. That small creature was none other than Pippin.

“Oh no, Mr. Haldir. I’ve got to find Hela!” he quickly ran off to find Hela and tell her what had happened to Haldir.

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