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ebaeschnbliah · 8 months

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Following with his keen eyes the trail to the river, and then the river back towards the forest, Aragorn saw a shadow on the distant green, a dark swift-moving blur. He cast himself upon the ground and listened again intently. But Legolas stood beside him, shading his bright elven-eyes with his long slender hand, and he saw not a shadow, nor a blur, but the small figures of horsemen, many horsemen, and the glint of morning on the tips of their spears was like the twinkle of minute stars beyond the edge of mortal sight. Far behind them a dark smoke rose in thin curling threads. There was a silence in the empty fields, arid Gimli could hear the air moving in the grass.

'Riders!' cried Aragorn, springing to his feet.

'Many riders on swift steeds are coming towards us!'

'Yes,' said Legolas, 'there are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall.'

Aragorn smiled. 'Keen are the eyes of the Elves,' he said.

'Nay! The riders are little more than five leagues distant,' said Legolas.

'Five leagues or one,' said Gimli; 'we cannot escape them in this bare land. Shall we wait for them here or go on our way?'

'We will wait,' said Aragorn. 'I am weary, and our hunt has failed. Or at least others were before us; for these horsemen are riding back down the orc-trail. We may get news from them.'

'Or spears,' said Gimli.

'There are three empty saddles, but I see no hobbits,' said Legolas.

'I did not say that we should hear good news,' said Aragorn. 'But evil or good we will await it here.'

The three companions now left the hill-top, where they might be an easy mark against the pale sky, and they walked slowly down the northward slope. A little above the hill's foot they halted, and wrapping their cloaks about them, they sat huddled together upon the faded grass. The time passed slowly and heavily. The wind was thin and searching. Gimli was uneasy.

'What do you know of these horsemen, Aragorn?' he said. 'Do we sit here waiting for sudden death?'

'I have been among them,' answered Aragorn. 'They are proud and wilful, but they are true-hearted, generous in thought and deed; bold but not cruel; wise but unlearned, writing no books but singing many songs, after the manner of the children of Men before the Dark Years. But I do not know what has happened here of late, nor in what mind the Rohirrim may now be between the traitor Saruman and the threat of Sauron. They have long been the friends of the people of Gondor, though they are not akin to them. It was in forgotten years long ago that Eorl the Young brought them out of the North, and their kinship is rather with the Bardings of Dale, and with the Beornings of the Wood, among whom may still be seen many men tall and fair, as are the Riders of Rohan. At least they will not love the Orcs.'

'But Gandalf spoke of a rumour that they pay tribute to Mordor ' said Gimli.

'I believe it no more than did Boromir,' answered Aragorn.

'You will soon learn the truth,' said Legolas. 'Already they approach.'

At length even Gimli could hear the distant beat of galloping hoofs. The horsemen, following the trail, had turned from the river, and were drawing near the downs. They were riding like the wind.

Now the cries of clear strong voices came ringing over the fields. Suddenly they swept up with a noise like thunder, and the foremost horseman swerved, passing by the foot of the hill, and leading the host back southward along the western skirts of the downs. After him they rode: a long line of mail-clad men. swift, shining, fell and fair to look upon.

Their horses were of great stature, strong and clean-limbed; their grey coats glistened, their long tails flowed in the wind, their manes were braided on their proud necks. The Men that rode them matched them well: tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale, flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees.

In pairs they galloped by, and though every now and then one rose in his stirrups and gazed ahead and to either side, they appeared not to perceive the three strangers sitting silently and watching them. The host had almost passed when suddenly Aragorn stood up, and called in a loud voice:

'What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?'

With astonishing speed and skill they checked their steeds, wheeled, and came charging round.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, The Riders of Rohan

The picture of Eorl the Young in the Golden Hall of Meduseld (painted on heavy canvas) is taken from the Appendices: The Two Towers - 'Designing Middle Earth'

#the lord of the rings #the two towers #the riders of rohan #jrr tolkien #rohan #aragorn #legolas #gimli #eomer #peter jackson #extended edition #movie pics

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cycas · 1 month

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10 first lines thingy

Thank you to @spiced-wine-fic and @grundyscribbling for the tags: I found it interesting looking at your first lines. So here are the first lines from my ten most recent fics, and then I look for patterns.

Inventing Hobbits “Well, I finished making Ents,” Yavanna said, flinging herself down in dramatic exhaustion into what, for an incarnate, would have been called ‘her favorite chair’.

Speak, Friends, and Enter “Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul”

View from the Western Coast An eternity, dark, cool, unformed.

The Wondrous Tale of the Bee-wolf Outside the long shaggy-thatched hall of Beorn, the winter wind was mourning against a sky grey with clouds that were heavy with the promise of more snow: a grey that was darkening as the short day failed.

Watch the wall my darling, while the gentlemen go by A dark and clouded sky, waves lapping at the shore catching the light of the dark-lantern.

A Leaf of the White Tree Boromir had never really thought about death.

Fear, Fire, Foes The elf-kingdoms of Beleriand fell one by one.

The Stones Remember Far below the ever-moving music of the waves, the wide hands of the kelp-forest move with the waters, swaying, as bright fish turn and scatter like silver jewels.

Gift of Uncertain Seas “Here,” Nerdanel called urgently. “Left a little!”

Naught but Memory In Beleriand, at the mouth of the silver river Sirion, bright waves lap shimmering at the margins of a thousand tiny islands, girt with whispering reeds.

---------------------------------------------

Hm. Well, about half of these are word-pictures, and support my idea that I struggle to write where I can't work out what the weather is like. I don't think there's much pattern to the rest, but looking at these, I am thinking: blimey it's been a long time since I actually finished something and posted it. I live in a world of half-completed drafts now, it seems.

I'll tag @quillingmesoftly, @joyfullynervouscreator, @sotwk, and @oldshrewsburyian to do this meme!

#writing #meme thingy

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bradshawsbaby · 16 days

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My lovely Sarah, I'm afraid I was struck with a thought at dinner that is just too adorable to pass up (lol).

You and Rhett have a gigantic book barn where your ever growing, out of control book collection is held. You guys have all sorts of stuff ranging from children's books that you and Rhett had growing up, to the classics, some modern reads, fantasy, sci fi, westerns and adventure books, a whole reference section, history, biography, nonfiction etc.

On warm spring and summer nights, you and Rhett will read to the babies in the book barn in the little cozy corner. Ever since you adopted Amy from birth, you've made it a point for them all to have their baths first after dinner and then for them to pick out a book to read before bed. They love stuff like Grimm's Fairy Tales, Aesop's Fables and many others. Amy in particular LOVES when Royal will read her "The Hobbit" and "The Lord Of The Rings" and even does the character voices. Her favorite of his was always Beorn and she'll laugh for hours on end, proudly giggling about how "Papa sounds like the bear man" (lol).

*BONUS!*

Rhett was so proud when the babies wanted him to read "The Indian In The Cupboard" one day because that was his favorite growing up. Royal gave him a copy for his third birthday and it still says "To Rhett James on his third birthday, love Daddy".

This is just the absolute cutest concept!!! 🥹🥰

After two days of proctoring the ELA state exam, I would love nothing more than to curl up in a cozy book barn with my head in Rhett’s lap while he strokes my hair and reads to me 🫶🏻

#rhett abbott

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eamonorus-blog · 1 year

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Battle of the Five Armies

I am afraid I am going to have to rant about why I hate tBOTFA

The elves are all wrong to begin with. These are elves who are "more dangerous and less wise" than their western kin, who are less armoured. They don't have the martial traditions of the Calaquendi. They should not be an elite well-oiled fighting machine that moves in perfect sync like an army of robots. They should be a force of fierce and fey forest elves, who do what they do in the books, unleash a volley of arrows before charging recklessly into battle with their weapons glowing like they are aflame, so fierce is their hatred.

As for the Dwarves, well. In the books the Dwarves are able to come to answer Thorins call so soon because they are especially hardy and strong members of a strong and hardy race. They are armoured in mail head to toe, and armed to the teeth, round shields, beards plaited into belts, a short sword at their side and a two-handed mattock in their hands, and despite all that heavy packs with supplies to reinforce the mountain with. They came on foot carrying all that equipment, which is an impressive feat. But Dwarves did not tame beasts, that is what men and elves do! There should be no warpigs or goat cavalry. And the Legendarium should be low tech, the Dwarf smithing feats come from forging incredible jewellery, armour and weapons, not through incredible technological innovations. They shouldn't have anti-arrow artillery, or chariots with machine-crossbows, or anything of the sort. They are angry beard men who will crush your skull, not technologically advanced hoplite wannabes.

When it comes to the men, instead of getting tall nordic dudes with ancient Dwarf forged swords standing as a totally legit army alongside the other two races, we get a faction of useless dirty hobos. Because PJ decided that Lake Town was going to be a commentary on class struggle, instead of the bustling and fairly prosperous town it was in canon, which made Smaug destroying the town all the more of a loss. As for the Orcs and Wargs, well, where to begin?

Instead of the treasure hungry horde of nasty cave creatures from the books, we get another nazi-esque legion of PL*TE armoured Uruk-hai wannabes. Breeding half orcs is a unique and terrible thing in middle earth? Not anymore apparently, since there was a whole massive army of them that Sauron unleashed before he even knew the ring had been found that is greater than the army he unleashes in the WotR in all sorts of ways. It has trolls that are way bigger than the later ones for some reason, and the orcs are all cgi which doesnt help.

Instead of being their own faction of malevolent wolves, the wargs are simply the ugly hyena-esque mounts. Thats not great, but Beorn, who single handed saved the day and killed Bolg in the books gets totally sidelined. Instead of sweeping a few orcs off of the high places like they do in the books, these eagles dive bomb compact pike formations with no problems whatsoever. Apparently in the PJ universe having a tightly packed formation of infantry with heavy armour and spears gives you no ability to resist the charge of anything larger than an elf with a katana. And lets not get into the way the actual layout and playing out of the battle is butchered. Instead of being a historically coherent melee back and forth of heavy infantry which would make sense visually and logically, a bunch of our characters take time off from the battle to go fight the big bad, in such a way that if this was real the battle would be well over by the time they even got to Azog. We have super trolls getting all owned at the same time with some kind of thrown weapon, javelins I think? I dunno but it doesnt make sense. We have elven archers jumping the phalanx (jumping the phalanx is what I say now whenever a battle in a film jumps the shark) We have Alfred gobbling up screen time like a Boffin or a Bracegirdle eating snacks during Bilbos party. All in all the whole thing is something I can't even bear to watch its so bad. All of PJs worst instincts are allowed full space to flourish.

#the hobbit #peter jackson #tolkien #the battle of the five armies

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arofili · 2 years

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men of middle-earth ϟ the lost road ϟ headcanon disclaimer

Ottor Wǽfre was a Man of Middle-earth, the son of Eoh of the coast. In his youth he was made a bondslave by his cruel uncle Beorn, but soon he fled an island in the North Sea, where he met and married the woman Cwén. Always did sea-longing grip Ottor’s heart, and for that reason he called himself Wǽfre, the Wanderer, for he was born under Eärendil’s light and could not rest in one place in contentment. Yet for the sake of Cwén and the sons which she bore him, Hengest and Horsa, he remained on the island for many years. Eoh his father had been born on the coast before he and his brother Beorn had wandered inland, and though Wǽfre had never himself seen the Sea he could feel its call within his bones, whetted by stories of Eoh’s youth, and now he was glad to find himself near the ocean of his heart’s desire. Still he yearned for more, and his contact with sailors and mariners put him in a mood to travel, and but for his young family he would have traveled with other adventurers to seek out the legends of Lost Tales and Fairy Lore. When Cwén his wife died of an illness, Wǽfre left his young sons in the care of their mother’s family and succumbed at last to his sea-longing. For years he sailed the Western Sea, searching for unknown isles and fantastical lands, and once he wrecked upon the westernmost island known to Man, which in elder days had been called Tol Morwen. But an ancient sailor found him and gave him shelter, and over a fire in his lonely cabin fashioned out of the remnants of his boat, this old man told him strange tales of lands beyond the Western Seas, of the Magic Isles and that most lonely one that lay beyond. This tale awoke a deep hunger within Wǽfre to find those lands himself, and with the words of the old sailor echoing in his mind he began a long and grievous search for the Lonely Isle. After many a weary voyage in treacherous waters, he at last discovered what he sought beyond an enchanted fog, and landed upon the shores of his dreams. Upon this island he met many strange and wondrous folk, elves out of ancient tales who were fascinated by his mortality. They called their home Tol Eressëa, and gave unto Ottor Wǽfre new names: Sarothron, Angol, Melinon, and Eriol, which signifies “one who dreams alone.” He took up the name Eriol and begged to learn more of the elves, and the elders of Tol Eressëa took counsel and agreed to teach him their history. He was welcomed into the Cottage of Lost Play, where he heard many stories from wise old elves and bubbly elflings alike. The doorward Evromord spun him the tale of the Ainulindalë first recorded by Rúmil, and the story of how the Valar entered the World; Meril-i-Turinqi, queen of the Isle, related the story of Melkor’s chaining and the coming of the Elves; the singer Lindo spake of the Darkening of Valinor and the theft of the Silmarils, leading to the Flight of the Noldor and the rising of the Sun and Moon; Lindo’s wife Vairilmë told of the hiding of Valinor; the loremaster Gilfanon spake of the trials of the Noldor and the coming of Man. Even the island’s children joined in the storytelling: the young maiden Vëannë told the Tale of Tinúviel and her mortal lover Beren, and her cousin Ausir spoke of Turambar and the Dragon, first recorded by the mortal Eltas. Ilverion related the tale of the Fall of Gondolin, whereupon Gilfanon took up the storytelling and continued with the history of the Nauglamír, and then Ilverion concluded with the Tale of Eärendil. Thus educated on the lore of the elves, Eriol desired to dwell upon Tol Eressëa forever, and begged the favor of Meril to remain. This she granted, and wove magic upon him to return his youth and strength, and he made his home with Vairilmë’s niece Naimi, whom he wed and named Éadgifu in his tongue. Naimi bore him a son, called by her Vorindo and by his father Heorrenda, and for many years Eriol lived gladly among the elves of the Lonely Island. But as age crept upon him once more (for the power of Meril could not change his mortal fate, only delay it a little while), a desire arose in him once more to return to his homelands and see the black cliffs of his shores. Meril warned against this departure, but Naimi his wife gave him this blessing, and so Eriol took up once more the name of Wǽfre and with his son Heorrenda sailed back to Middle-earth. With them they took the Golden Book in which Eriol had recorded the tales of the Eldar, which Heorrenda completed and shared among his kin, revitalizing the ancient legends of their ancestors. Ottor Wǽfre Eriol died on his ship within sight of the black cliffs of his father’s homeland, though he never again set foot in Middle-earth. His spirit departed to receive the Gift of Men, but Heorrenda Vorindo continued to the mainland where he met his elder half-brothers Hengest and Horsa, and together they became great leaders of Men. Hengest and Horsa were mighty lords, but Heorrenda was a writer and recorder of their adventures, and thus the great stories of then and now were spread across many lands, never to be truly forgotten.

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pythosart · 5 years

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A BUNCH OF LOUS Some demonic force possessed me to try and make a guide to all 700 of my AU Lous. My brain is too busted to let me pay attention to my other ocs so I guess all 3% of my creative energy capacity goes toward iterating on this one. And guess what, I cherish them ALL Short bios/AU explanation under the cut (oops it’s long)

ORIGINAL FLAVOR BLADES LOU: Lou as initially designed, though some aspects of their backstory and personality changed as I got to know them through roleplay. Halfway through the story they took a kinda edgy turn and got deeper into cult stuff and afflicted with a worsening vampiric condition. Right before we ended the game for good, they had just died and come back as a full on, undead vampire.

Fae AU: The first AU, that kinda started it all. Stemmed from a cultist dream thing in Blades, where Lou was the prey in an Erlking-style nightly hunt. In the fae version, they’re a sylph changeling and the only child of a fading fae queen. Their arc in this deals with them struggling with their humanity and nearly succumbing to the soul-sucking influence of their mother, before ultimately restoring her “humanity” and saving themself THROUGH THE POWER OF LOVE Cult AU: Kinda started as a Blades offshoot, coulda shoulda woulda AU where we play with ideas we wish we could have tackled in the game. Quickly became its own thing, set actually on Earth in the Prohibition era (but low magic urban fantasy) Lou is French and was rescued from the middle of a WWI battlefield by Aphotis, a goddess whose own cult had just been massacred. She was as desperate for a believer to sustain her as toddler Lou was to not die. They escaped to America as refugees and Aphotis raised them as her own, and as her caretaker and dirty-work-doer in her quest to regain power. Along the way, Lou was (perhaps intentionally) introduced to an infectious piece of a primordial god, that gave them some shapeshifting abilities at the cost of rapidly draining the life from them and twisting them. Aphotis works to keep them alive, while keeping a memory-wiped copy of them (created by this parasitic god piece) around to do her bidding. This isn’t two instances of Lou, it’s one Lou with two bodies. Same person. My personal story borrows a lot from this AU as well as my character Esther’s old story Mary Sue AU: Initially a joke exercise to write intentionally terrible fanfic (as if Dom were writing about their friends in Blades) that of course became its own thing. Lou is obviously a vampire, with most of the traditional vampire rules and weaknesses. Their Tragic Past gimmick is that they were staked in the heart while still living, as bait for their vampire queen mother. It worked, she turned them postmortem, and as a result they are much weaker than a typical vampire. They also suffer a curse to stay within the bounds of their family’s ancestral castle, which has since become a prestigious university. They also become a fluffy black cat-bat thing either at will or when too weak to sustain a full sized body. Their line of vampires usually turns into cats, but Lou is a fuckup Pirates AU: Pretty straightforward. Lou is called June in this one, and is the mutinous first mate of Captain Inkblood (Cookie), who totally does it for attention. Their secret is that they became a pirate to dodge student loan debt. Stayhome AU: “Blades, but what if the formative incident for your character never happened” Lou never gets caught by the Governor’s program to round up street urchins and send them to work-school, and instead ends up working on a shrimp boat. They never develop the world-weariness and scheming nature of canon Lou, instead devoting their intellect to learning everything about shrimp, shrimping, and shrimp boats. Insert Forrest Gump scene. Eventually their crew gets captured and ransomed by pirates, but no one ever pays up for Lou, and they end up pretty happily living with the pirate crew Western AU: Gee I wonder why this big city doctor picked up and moved all the way out here to the frontier, it couldn’t possibly be because they’re running from the law. Narrator voice: They Were. Lou is a terribly unethical doctor with a reputation for experimenting on patients, and a taste for arson. After getting chased out of town and blacklisted all over the west, they find themself joining an outlaw band, as their doctor. Here, they start to learn compassion and humanity and not being a total bastard... ...until they somewhat accidentally burn a particular bounty hunter’s face off with a firebomb, and she carves them up in return. From here on, their arc is a test of their learned compassion and breaking a cycle of bloody revenge. Horror AU: Starts off as a classic summer slasher movie, with Lou as a college student with a bunch of shitty “friends” destroying a campground and partying until they draw the local monster’s ire. The monster (Dom) kills several of them, kidnaps Lou after Lou hides their fear behind sass and clearly isn’t like the destructive campers. Lou learns more about the monster and even starts to warm up to them, especially after discovering they can boss the monster around. Lou successfully escapes but runs right into a horror swamp where a nasty worm zombie pukes worms into their mouth and infests them. As the infestation progresses and nearly kills them a few times, Lou learns that the worms are intelligent and actually adore their host, and also that they can be bribed. By the end of their arc, Lou has mostly achieved symbiosis with their worms and avoided becoming a zombie,. They eventually must face off against the monsterified Queen of the Preps, Tiffany, who was similarly infested but never achieved that symbiosis. Minecraft AU, no really: Lou was a skilled tailor, and a total workaholic. Their ambition netted them a contract for a huge order of clothing for a duchess’s wedding on an extremely tight deadline, and Lou, knowing this could make them for the rest of their life, poured everything into it. They worked themself literally to death, dying of sleep deprivation. Distraught, this unfinished business drove them to make a devil deal of sorts to keep working, and they were granted this undeath, for a price. They slowly became more and more like a Phantom as they worked, never sleeping, and feeding on the dreams of those who do sleep. By the time they finished and emerged to present their achievement, they were monstrous and were chased out of town. From then on, they had lost their passion for their craft, and wandered the wilderness, sneaking into towns at night to feed on dreams, and fighting to retain their humanity as they become more and more phantom-like. Anyway I love this one so much I might make them their own non-minecraft character LotR AU: Lou is a hobbit, entrusted with the destruction of a certain magic ring. Unfortunately, they are much more corruptible than one Frodo, and early on abandon their fellowship, driven by paranoia the Ring has been growing within them. They run into a feral Mirkwood elf raised by giant spiders, and a giant orc raised by a Beorning farmer, and the three of them embark on a weird little Ring Quest of their own. TBC AU: Lou is a quiet, social outsider high schooler, with a bitter hatred for bullies and a knack for really disproportionately nasty “pranks” directed at said bullies. Too smart for their own good and with a taste for theft, Lou is a straight-A student who has been arrested for carjacking before. They end up as part of the Blackout Club after discovering their adoptive mother’s involvement with the Chorus, and out of sheer curiosity about the secret goings-on under the town. And in no small part for free run to break into houses and smear chili oil on the hands of sleepers who inconvenience them, because Lou is a bastard and has yet to learn empathy. Which, as usual, is kinda their arc here. Make friends for the first time in their life, learn empathy, get sucked into the orbit of a fairly nasty god/Voice, classic Lou stuff AND THAT’S ABOUT IT

#my art #lou #blades in the dark #why have many characters when you can have one

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halethkickass · 4 years

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So I've had this question for a while: we know the Elves worship (or revere, I'm not sure) the Valar and Eru; the Dunedain worship Eru more directly while still revering the Valar; the Dwarves worship Aulë; and since Oromë has a name in Old English, which is the language Tolkien uses in stead of Rohirric, I would asume the Rohirrim worship Oromë as their god and that makes sense. But is there any mention or hint at Hobbits worshiping something or having any religion at all?

Thank you so much for your question! Sorry it took me a while to answer. All of my final papers are due around now, so everything is slightly befuddled.

Religion in The Hobbit is a funny thing. Back when Tolkien started writing it in 1930, he did not have any plans to connect it to his larger universe of Arda. In fact, much of what we know as the history and mythology in The Silmarillion had not even been conceived yet. Thus, there are elements contained within it that seem at odds with the canon of Middle Earth in Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillion.

The other thing of import, as you brought up, is that the elves revered, but did not necessarily worship the Valar, at least not in the sense of the religions to which we are accustomed.

Which brings me to your question. Frodo is able to identify High Elves through their use of Varda's Sindarin name "Elbereth," so he clearly knew of her. He and Sam also knew the story of Beren and Luthien, which included Mandos. It is likely that the hobbits in the Shire had a vague, ancient knowledge of the Valar, whom they revered as higher powers without much of a spiritual connection to them. They weren't atheists; they knew some divine power had created the world, but they had never been commanded to worship them or even seen others do so. It is uncertain whether they knew of Eru, though.

On an interesting note, the Hobbit contains a couple of references to Christmas. The first is when the group is escaping goblins and wolves by climbing trees. "Fili and Kili were at the top of a tall larch tree like an enormous Christmas tree." Since The Hobbit is written by Bilbo, from his point of view, it would seem that he knew what Christmas was, implying some form of Christianity. Of course, you could also point out that this may be a translation by later writers, similar to how some of the names in The Silmarillion (looking at you, Mickleburg), are translations to Old English by Aelfwine.

More compelling is the is the following: "Yule-tide was warm and merry there; and men came from far and wide to feast at Beorn's bidding." Clearly, there is some sort of seasonal winter holiday going on here. Now, Yule-tide is not exactly Christmas, although the two have become synonymous. Traditionally, Yule was a pagan Germanic and Scandinavian festival that may have been honoring Odin, the god of the hunt. (If I'm getting something wrong here, let me know. I'm definitely not an expert on Western European beliefs and culture.)

This suggests, at least to me, that the Hobbits have some sort of connection with a the traditions of the elves. After all, Orome, the only Vala (apart from Melkor) to have ever come to Middle Earth, was the god of the hunt. Elves were rare in the days of The Hobbit, but the ones that hobbits would have been most likely to encounter would have been the Silvan and Avari, who didn't know much of the Valar apart from ancient legends the primitive elves' meeting of Orome. My supposition is that the hobbits had heard of him from the elves, who may have also celebrated an annual feast in his honor. Since we know that the Hobbits loved feasts, they adopted this tradition, as well.

So, in summary, the Hobbits did not have an established religion like Catholicism, but they likely knew something about the Valar and may have even held annual feasts in their honor. Unfortunately, there is no clear answer, but I hope this somewhat addresses your question.

References:

Flowers, M. (n.d.). "Timeline." The Tolkien Society. Retrieved from https://www.tolkiensociety.org/author/timeline/

Tolkien, J.R.R. (1937). The hobbit, or, there and back again. London, UK: George Allen & Unwin.

“Yule.” (2020). Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yule

#the hobbit #asks #orome #varda #frodo #bilbo

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ruthoakenshield · 4 years

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The Last Sanddancer (chapter 1)

Elora had wandered for years throughout Middle Earth after her village was destroyed by the Orcs and then them hunting and killing off those who survived one by one. As far as she knew she was the last of the Sanddancers. She strived to keep her traditions and the dances alive practicing them in the glens of the woods she haunted.

Occasionally she would be sought out by Galadrial or Elrond's elves to be invited to perform for the Elves at their festivals. They always paid her well for her demonstrations and treated her well.

Elora would only perform for the humans if she was out of coin and needed a quick way to make some coins to help her continue on her travels. She hated performing for them as they would always pester her afterwards with marriage proposals and lewd offers. They made her skin crawl. She was known by them as “The Elusive Sanddancer.” She knew they told tales of her and that most humans thought she was a myth because she so rarely appeared to dance in their towns and villages.

For the most part, Elora stuck to the forests and wooded areas. She had traveled from the eastern shores of Middle Earth to the Western shores numerous times. Zig-zagging her way back and forth across the lands.

She met Beorn on one of those trips when she was attacked by Orcs and overpowered. He had been watching her practice, unbeknownst to her. He watched her fight them off and he only chose to step in to fight off the Orcs when he realized they were about to drop her. He killed the remaining Orcs with a swipe of his massive paw and then he picked her up and took her to his home and helped her to recover from her injuries.

Afterwards he told her she was always welcome to visit him at his home. He was always happy to watch her dance and practice her many dances with her beautiful weapons, the Buugeng.

Although they were never meant to be a weapon, Elora quickly realized she would need one. She spoke with Lord Elrond about it during one of her stops in Rivendell early on in her first journey across the land and it was he who suggested she use her curved Buugeng as a make shift weapon. That way she would not have to retrain with a new weapon.

He personally crafted her a set of Buugeng with a razor sharp edges and enchanted it so it never dulls or breaks. He embedded it with many gems and gold inlay and made it so it could be folded in half for ease of transport.

Everyone who saw her dance using them were always mesmerized by the beauty and the patterns the gems and inlay would make when she spun the weapons during the dances.

Now, many, many decades later she was in the forest again, traveling and found a small glen that let in a little sunlight. Elora sighed and decided it was a lovely little place to stop and rest. She found a small spring at the far side of the little glen and set her pack down there. She filled her three water skins from the spring and then took out her weapons to practice her dances.

She sang the songs as she practiced her moves. Her body lean and strong from the many years of travel and dancing. Her muscles well defined and her movements smooth as silk and fluid as the ocean. She closed her eyes, spinning her weapons in various hypnotizing ways, not needing to see what she did as it was nearly all muscle memory.

She danced like this for hours at a time and it always calmed her spirit and nerves. It gave her a sense of peace and calming to move to the rhythm of the music in her mind and heart. It helped her remember her past, her history and reconnect in a sense, with her lost loved ones. She missed the feeling of dancing in the sands of her old home by the rivers in Rohan.

She was so engrossed in the feeling of the movements and the music she heard in her head and her heart that she didn't notice goblins creeping into the glen.

Suddenly she heard their shrieks and her eyes flew open just in time to find them rushing to attack her. She let out a war cry and began to use her beautiful Buugeng blades to cut them down as fast as they attacked. She fought them for several minutes but they just kept coming.

She was starting to tire and didn't know how much longer she could keep doing this. It was so much faster paced than the dances she was used to. She continued to spin and fight like a whirling dervish as the goblins swarmed around her. Her blades spinning hypnotically and goblin heads flying everywhere. None could get close enough to land a blow to her.

She didn't notice two forms jump out of the bushes at first. They stopped dead in their tracks and just stared wide eyed and jaws dropped when they saw her whirling and swinging her blades as if she were dancing a death dance. Goblin heads flying and bodies piling up around her as the blades spun in rhythm with each other slicing the heads and limbs of the goblins clean off.

Suddenly Elora saw them and paused too long to look at them, momentarily letting her guard down. Elora cried out as a blade caught her on the side and she dropped. The goblins squealed with glee and quickly jumped her...

@fizzyxcustard @dabisburntnut @dumbassunderthemountain @thorinthehottotty @deepestfirefun @rachel1959 @queenofmankind @thetheriaanthropydaily @demoniccheese83 @tschrist1

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#whirling dervish #buugeng blades #hypnotising #enchanting #thorin oakenshield #dwalin #The Hobbit AU #reader

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queer-as-used-by-tolkien · 4 years

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The first time Tiffany met Trahearne, she did NOT want to see him.

Tiffany Solestrider, long-time Warmaster of the Vigil, her partner, Forgal, and their two trainees, Crusaders Eveanin and Pharlt, have just landed on Claw Island.

“The creature we found hadn’t been in Lion’s Arch long,” Tiffany reminds them. “We may still have time.”

“We have to find Watch Commander Talon and convince him to ready the defenses,” Forgal tells her. “He might not be… agreeable, but he’s the one in charge here.”

“Pharlt, that means no threatening him,” Eveanin says in a teasing tone.

Pharlt pays her no attention. Instead, he is looking at the fortress. “They’re serious about this place,” he observes.

“They built this fortress to last,” Forgal tells him. “Only a complete, full-bore invasion could break these walls.”

“And that’s exactly what’s coming, if the scout was any indication,” Tiffany says with a grimace. She doesn’t even know why she came here. That was one of Zhaitan’s scouts, and she and Zhaitan have a worse-than-normal relationship. For many, many reasons. She can already feel the beginnings of the discomfort that heralds the presence of Risen. They’re still far away… but they’ll come closer.

As the foursome head up to the fort, Tiffany hears some Lionguard talking. “I smell something odd,” one remarks to another. “Do you smell it?”

“Smell? No,” his companion replies. “But the back of my neck keeps itching for some reason.”

“I don’t like this. Something’s definitely wrong.”

“Look, there’s Talon,” Forgal says.

Tiffany can see two figures standing in the archway that leads to the courtyard. As they draw nearer, she can hear that they are engaged in conversation.

“I’ve researched the situation extensively. The Orrians will strike here, on Claw Island.”

Tiffany frowns in an unease that has nothing to do with the Risen. Or maybe everything to do with them.

“Trahearne!” the younger sylvari exclaims. Tiffany stiffens, her ears flicking backwards in mixed shock and stubbornness. Eveanin goes on, “It’s been a long time. You study Orr - have there been any signs of an attack on its way?”

Trahearne. No. She’d left those dreams behind long ago. She hadn’t known that Eveanin knew him - the Crusader and Forgal can handle this conversation. She takes a step back, but Trahearne had already noticed her.

And recognized her, of course he’d recognized her. He couldn’t not recognize her, with the markings on her face.

“Soulstrider?” he asks, and Tiffany notices Eveanin blink in confusion.

“The Risen are coming,” she says, her tones short and clipped. She can’t allow herself to begin dreaming again. Trahearne frowns slightly, and turns back to Eveanin, but his eyes keep flicking over to her. Tiffany tries to think about something else. It’ll be less… painful that way.

As Forgal and Talon join in the conversation, Tiffany finds her gaze drawn southward. The Risen are coming. She hadn’t faced Risen in five years - not close enough to do combat with them, in any case. But she only came today because she would face them in combat.

But I don’t know how. Oh, she knows plenty enough about wielding the greatsword she carries, had studied extensively how to quickly and efficiently ‘kill’ the Risen… but she had never actually done so. She can’t.

She had only come here because she had to, and she still thinks she will only be a liability here. Nappa had tried everything to figure out what her problem with Risen is, but even that necromancer had been unable to cure her. And now, with Trahearne here… she wishes more than ever that she hadn’t come. She could have gone to get backup from the Vigil, and not ever thought about her youthful desires to go to Orr.

“Tiffany,” Forgal calls, jerking her out of her thoughts. “You and Pharlt can go find Deputy Brakk, warn him of the attack. The rest of us will speak to Deputy Mira.” Tiffany nods, grateful that Forgal is splitting them up this way. He knows that she doesn’t want to be around Trahearne.

Word seems to spread fast. The Lionguard are already discussing the news of the Risen.

“Deputy Brakk,” she says upon seeing the asura. “There are Risen coming, and Talon isn’t listening. Are you ready to handle them?”

“Tell the Watch Commander Talon that the gunnery emplacements are ready,” Brakk replies. “The fortress here on Claw Island houses more 24-pounders than a ship of the line. We’ll be ready to fight the Orrians, don’t doubt that. Inform Deputy Mira - she’s in charge of the beach patrols.”

Tiffany glances toward the beaches, where Forgal, Eveanin and Trahearne are talking to another Lionguard. Everything seems normal, peaceful even, so far. She could almost imagine this being her life, she and her friends and Trahearne - except for the constant itching that is spreading over her body. The Risen are getting closer. She relentlessly quashes the momentary desire - no, soulful longing - for ‘peaceful’ to be her life.

The itching turns to pain - light pain, at first, before it gets fiercer. Mentally, she predicts when the Risen will come out of the water. She guesses that they’ll be coming for Trahearne first, and her predictions on when are nearly spot-on. Pharlt rushes down to join the fight, but Tiffany stays back, biting her lip as the pain of the Risen washes through her like a wave.

She stays away even when the Risen are defeated, and silently rejoins the group only when they enter the fortress, taking care to stay in Forgal’s shadow.

“Do you think the commander will listen to us now?” Trahearne is asking.

“I hope he does,” Forgal says with a grimace. He glances at Tiffany, his gaze asking if she is alright. She nods imperceptibly, trying not to look in Trahearne’s direction.

“What will we do if he does?” Pharlt asks. “They’ll just press on to Lion’s Arch. Will we retreat from there, too?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Forgal tells him.

“Even with all my research, we still know so little about defeating them,” Trahearne worries.

I really need to get out of here as soon as possible. Tiffany grimaces. Her father’s Wyld Hunt might as well be her own, with the way her chest aches with the desire to help Trahearne. How, she doesn’t know, even if she could. She glances at him, only to find the Firstborn looking at her with an inscrutable expression. Her eyes snap to staring blankly ahead again. She is not going to think about this. It’s safer that way.

“A paltry attack,” Talon sneers as they approach. “It barely ruffled our feathers. Is that all they brought?”

“There will be more,” Trahearne tells the charr. “Much more. Keep watching the sea.”

“You’re a scholar, not a general, Firstborn,” Talon snorts. “Why should we trust you?”

Tiffany’s hand twitches. Her ears flick back again. But she doesn’t move or say anything, much as she desperately wants to - not that she knows what she would say. Just something. Anything. No, no, no! I can’t do this. I need to not be here. And she has Risen, debilitating pain, and a whole battle to look forward to. With Trahearne. Who may or may not know that she literally can’t stand when around Risen.

Pain blossoms, every nerve ending screaming. Tiffany stiffens, and inhales sharply, biting her tongue to keep from crying out.

“The fortress is under attack!” Mira screams. Not that Tiffany hadn’t already known that. “Ready on the wall!” Mira continues. “Hostiles incoming!”

“There are too many!” Brakk hollers. “They’ve breached the wall! We’re being over - ”

Talon cuts over Brakk’s voice, shouting over an unnatural wind that had sprung up. “They’re catapulting abominations onto the western wall! Repel the invaders!”

“There’s something in the clouds!”

Tiffany glances up, only to see a shadow flitting through the dark clouds.

“We’ve held out against worse than this,” Talon snarls. “I defy the dragon to take our island! YOU HEAR ME, ZHAITAN? DEFY!”

Tiffany would liked to have said something sarcastic, but her eyes are on the Risen. Forgal, Eveanin, Pharlt, Trahearne and the Lionguard are fighting the Risen, but Tiffany doesn’t dare get closer to help them.

But the Dead Ship in the harbor… Tiffany can sink that with a trebuchet. She hurries over to one that isn’t surrounded by Risen. “Protect me,” she whispers to her bear, Beorn, who - lucky for him - does not have her inhibiting condition that keeps her away from Risen.

The pain is nearly unbearable, this close to the Risen on the wall, and her hands are shaking as she loads the trebuchet. On the beach below, she can see Eveanin and Trahearne fighting through the Risen to get to Deputy Mira and what remains of her squad. Snarling to herself, she fires the trebuchet. Wish I could fight Risen like that, she thinks sourly as she watches the missile sail toward the Dead Ship. It misses.

“G-great,” she snarls, falling to one knee. She glances at Beorn, who is keeping the Risen off her, at least, but not far enough away. Grasping the wooden frame of the trebuchet, she hauls herself upright again, but she leans heavily on it for support. Her muscles aren’t working right. She can’t possibly reload, aim, and fire the trebuchet.

“Soulstrider, are you injured?” comes Trahearne’s voice from behind her. “No,” she snaps. “I’m trying to sink this ship.” It’s true - she’s just in pain. There’s absolutely no physical reason for it. But she still can’t stand on her own. At least the pain doesn’t multiply when there’s more than one Risen.

Trahearne frowns at her for a long moment before he joins Beorn in fighting off the Risen, which helps immensely. When the Risen are far enough away that she can trust herself to stand, she goes about shakily reloading the trebuchet. And wishing with all her heart that it had been anybody else who’d come to see what was wrong with her. Forgal would have understood. Eveanin or Pharlt would have known what was going on. The Lionguard would have not cared and just started helping. Trahearne…

She can’t go to Orr, and wishing for it isn’t going to change a thing. If anything, this battle is only reinforcing that idea that she is completely stuck on the continent of Tyria. At the same time as doing its best to break her heart about it all over again.

Snarling vehemently, she fires the trebuchet again...

Right before a charging abomination rams right into the trebuchet, breaking it and throwing Tiffany back. Tiffany screams, the sudden agony of the presence of Risen unbearable. The pain of where she’d fallen on the pavement of the courtyard pales in comparison. She curls into a protective ball as the pain washes over her. She bites her lip to keep from screaming, but tears are coursing down her face.

There’s nothing to be done about it except killing the abomination, and she almost literally can’t move of her own free will. Her muscles are spasming and she has to lock her arms together to keep them relatively still, but she’s still shaking uncontrollably. It would have been better if there was anything to do about it - if she could even feel like she was doing anything about it - but the pain isn’t even centered on one spot. It just is.

“We did it!” she hears Mira yell. “It’s sinking! A small victory.”

Tiffany dimly realizes that she must have hit the ship. Well… I never thought I’d kill a Risen.

The pain vanishes abruptly, and she realizes that Trahearne and Beorn must have killed the abomination. There are still nearby Risen, but they aren’t as close as before, so the pain is less.

She tries to stand, but her limbs are still shaking uncontrollably from the aftershock of the pain. Beorn is already at her side, and Tiffany lifts a shaky hand to pet his nose. “You alright, boy?” she asks, her voice coming out in a raspy whisper.

“I think the more pressing concern is whether you are alright,” Trahearne tells her, offering his hand to help her up.

“I’m fine now,” she assures him, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “Thanks for the help. Is Claw Island safe?”

Trahearne only points back to the harbor, where there are now dozens of ships. “Oh, no…”

“Talon, this is no normal attack!” Mira exclaims to her commander. “The Lionguard cannot hold! We’re overwhelmed!”

“Claw Island has stood for nearly a hundred years. We’ve faced a dragon champion and survived! It cannot fall! We’ll fight them to the last soldier! To the last sword! We’ll never surr - “ He is cut off by a shell from a Dead Ship hitting him.

Tiffany growls. “That champion killed my mother,” she mutters, as she half-limps toward the charr. “Talon wasn’t there for that.”

“Medic!” Deputy Mira shouts. “We need a medic over here! Commander Talon, hold on. You’ll be alright.”

“Quiet, Mira,” Talon tells her. “Soldiers don’t need lies. Retreat to the city. Tell the commodore…” he is interrupted by a hacking cough, “…we did all we could…”

“By your will, Commander. I swear to you… this isn’t over,” Mira declares.

“Mira, the island is overwhelmed,” Forgal says as he hurries over with Eveanin and Pharlt. “We have to evacuate the Lionguard and ignite the watchtowers to warn the city.”

“No,” Mira counters. “You’ll never make it to the beacon with these Risen monstrosities chasing you. We’ll have to fight our way back. The Lionguard will make a stand in the courtyard while you go for the tower. Gods willing, the Risen will be too busy fighting us to stop you.”

“Your bravery is commendable, Deputy Mira,” Trahearne tells her, “but your soldiers cannot survive a protracted battle against this many undead.”

“It’s the duty of every Lionguard to lay down our lives to protect our city. If that’s what it takes, that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

“Only one person needs to light the watchtowers,” Forgal points out. “The rest of us can help you. Tiffany?”

“I’m on it,” Tiffany replies, turning to head toward the watchtower.

“We should stay together,” Trahearne says. “I’ll come with you.”

Tiffany feels like slamming her head against the wall. She does not need to deal with this right now. At least before they didn’t have time to talk. Now…

But there will be Risen on the way up, and Beorn can’t deal with them alone. She nods once and starts toward the stairs. Trahearne falls in beside her. Tiffany keeps staring straight ahead in silence.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Trahearne says quietly. “I understand if you blame me for his death, but I thought I should say so.”

“Blame you? No. I appreciate your concern, however.” Tiffany wishes Forgal were here to distract the sylvari, however well-intentioned he might be.

“You don’t - ? Then why - ?”

“Because I can’t fight Risen.”

“I have studied Orrian creatures for twenty-five years, but even I rarely engage in combat with them,” Trahearne tells her. “I find it quite terrifying.”

Tiffany doesn’t reply. Let him think she’s afraid of them if he likes.

Suddenly, she pauses. “Wait.” She peers upward toward the watchtower. There are no Risen. She glances down at the courtyard, where she can pick out her friends among the Lionguard. There are Risen closer than that. She can feel it. She glances up again. “Can Risen stealth?” she asks Trahearne.

He shakes his head. “No. Why do you - “

“Are there any more… magically potent Risen that can affect things from further away?”

“I don’t understand.”

Tiffany points up. “Can any Risen fly?”

“Only the champions,” Trahearne replies.

“By all Six Gods, there’s a champion here,” Tiffany snarls. Of course champions would have a wider range of effect. “Maybe more than one.”

“How can you - ?”

“I can feel them,” Tiffany shoots back, now mounting the steps by twos and praying she can make it to the top. Trahearne hurries after her.

Tiffany is shuddering by the time she reaches level ground, but at least she’s still capable of moving with any degree of reliability.

“Feel them how?” Trahearne asks her.

“They’re pain. I can’t get too close to them. I’ve never been able to figure out why.” Tiffany hurries to the control panel on the watchtower and jabs the button. “Let’s get out of here,” she says, as the three towers light up one by one. “Hopefully it doesn’t attack Lion’s Arch immediately.”

Trahearne glances at the sky, worry clear on his face. Tiffany hurries down the steps as quickly as she can. She stumbles suddenly as the pain mounts exponentially higher.

“Forgal!” She hollers, screeching more than shouting. “There’s a champion here! We need to evacuate, now!”

She comes to a halt, not trusting her legs to carry her safely down the last flight of stairs. “Retreat!” She hollers.

Trahearne catches up to her. “Are you alr - “

“No!” Tiffany snaps. She sinks down to sit on one of the steps before her legs can collapse. “I - just - get down there and get them off the island! Beorn can protect me,” she adds as she sees his hesitation. She bites her lip to keep from crying out as the pain increases. “I’ll be down in a moment. Go!”

Then, the champion flies right past them, and Tiffany faints.

“ - can’t form a defense and still get them all aboard,” Eveanin’s voice is saying as Tiffany wakes up.

“Hmm,” Forgal murmurs. “A heroic but nearly impossible task, against great odds and an unrelenting enemy.”

“Forgal,” Tiffany says slowly. The pain isn’t gone, but it’s more bearable. The champion must be on the other side of the island. “What are you planning?”

“Get the wounded to safety,” Forgal tells her - really all of them, but he’s addressing her. “Warn Lion’s Arch. One day, you’ll come back and retake this island - of that, I have no doubt.”

“Not me,” Tiffany whispers. “I can’t. You can’t just go die - not now! Not after - “

“Tiffany,” Forgal says, kneeling down beside her and speaking urgently. “I lost my mate and children to the dragons. I thought my legend was buried with them, that I had no one to walk in my footsteps and tell my tale. Now, that’s changed, my friend. Thank you for being my legacy. Tell my tale at the hearth fires, where the skaalds sing of heroes.”

“I should be the one to hold them off,” Tiffany tells him. “I’m useless anyway, I might as well do something - “

“No!” Forgal shakes his head vehemently. “You can’t hold them off - you’ve already fainted once today. They’d walk all over you and turn you into a Risen - I’m sorry, Tiffany, but you’d only buy us about ten seconds. You can do more good than that by staying alive. Go. I will not fail.”

Without waiting for a reply, Tiffany’s only friend turns and heads into the fortress. “But so can you,” Tiffany whispers, reaching after him. “No…”

“You may win the battle, dragon,” Forgal roars, “but you will never defeat our spirit! I am Forgal, son of Kern. My father was the last Dolyak Shaman! I am a Warmaster of the Vigil! You will never make me kneel!”

“Come on, Tiffany,” Eveanin says urgently, pulling Tiffany to her feet. “Even Forgal can only buy us so much time.”

Tiffany imagines Forgal fighting all those Risen. She allows Eveanin to lead her to the ship. What wouldn’t she give to be able to fight Risen like that. Even imagining doing so almost feels painful.

#tiffanycommander #eveanin #forgal #trahearne #pharlt #claw island #risen #also extra lore I added in about Claw Island being attacked already #that was like twenty-some years ago #also Trahearne and Tiffany akljf;alkdjfa;lkdjf #because they knew each other when Tiffany was like an infant #because her father is one of the two unnamed Firstborn #and his Wyld Hunt was to help Trahearne and then he died #because extra-lore that I haven't posted here yet but it's awesome #tyrias-library

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lesbienneanarchiste · 5 years

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So I've been thinking about beorn, leading to the following conundrum: does me being a monsterfucker outweigh me being a lesbian? Cant i just be a lesbian who wants beorn exclusively? Does one need to be a monsterfucker to want beorn to raw them? Oh gd am i a furry??? Am i a furry if i only want beorn to raw me in his not-bear form??? Bold of me to presume a literal skinchanger would subscribe to the western-human gender binary, but still. Please i just want a big strong animal-loving shape-shifting beekeeping farmer to take care of me please beorn i am begging u 😭

#tolkien shit #disgruntled octopus #asdfghjlksjsgdks #please i want this house and also he would be so good to me P L E A S E

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middleearthtolkienfantasyart · 3 years

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Aiwendil Radagast was a Maia created from before Time who descended to Arda in order to serve the Valar.Aiwendil was a servant of the Valië Yavanna, the Queen of earth.

After the Undying Lands were separated from Arda during the Downfall of Númenor, Manwë was still concerned for the fate of the peoples of Middle-earth. Even though Sauron had been overthrown, he had not been permanently vanquished. Given time, his shadow began to fall again. A council of the Valar was summoned and it was decided that they would send emissaries to Middle-earth. These messengers should be "mighty peers of Sauron, yet forgo might, and clothe themselves in flesh," as they were intended to help Men and Elves unite against Sauron. The wizards were forbidden from matching the Dark Lord in power and fear. Aulë chose Curumo (Saruman), Oromë chose Alatar and Pallando (the Blue Wizards), and Manwë chose Olórin (Gandalf). Yavanna subsequently begged Curumo to take Aiwendil with him.

Around the year TA 1000, the Maia arrived at the Grey Havens in the west of Eriador, having the form of old Men, whom the peoples called Wizards. Curumo arrived first and alone, and Aiwendil arrived at the same time as Olórin.When the Wizards took their mission, they roamed Middle-earth. In this period, Aiwendil had been renamed "Radagast" by the Ñoldor and was known for both his protection of the great Forests and his zeal for the animals, worrying little with the affairs of Men and Elves, but was far more knowledgeable in plants, birds and beasts in the forest. He also turned away from Saruman during this period, unaware that the White Wizard despised him and considered him a fool.

In general, Radagast was never much of a traveler.There is not much to be told about his early journeys, but by the late Third Age he eventually settled down and dwelt, for a time at least, at Rhosgobel somewhere between the Carrock and the Old Forest Road.Situated on the western borders of Mirkwood, it can be assumed that the Wizard held watch against the Shadow of Dol Guldur that slowly engulfed the forest. It is likely that he became acquainted with the inhabitants of that region. Close to animals and birds, he was friends with the Great Eagles.Although the neighboring Beorn was unsociable, he used to see the wizard from time to time, and considered Radagast "not bad" for a Wizard.

In TA 2851 the White Council met once more and, after that, Saruman began to search the Gladden Fields for the One Ring. Radagast decided to aid his search with birds and beasts who acted as spies hoping that Saruman's actions would help watch and hinder Sauron. Radagast did this in good faith, knowing nothing of Saruman's real ambitions to keep the Ring for himself.

By the time of the War of the Ring Radagast did not dwell any more in Rhosgobel. In summer TA 3018 Saruman told Radagast that he was willing to help Gandalf, and sent the Brown Wizard to seek him out at once. Radagast did not know much of Eriador but sought for the Shire, knowing that he would find Gandalf nearby.

Indeed, on Midsummer's Day, Radagast was sitting on the side of the Greenway with his horse near Bree when Gandalf found him on his way to the village. Radagast warned Gandalf that the Nazgûl were abroad, disguised as riders in black, and that they were seeking news of the Shire. He also gave him Saruman's invitation and agreed to help Gandalf by getting beasts and birds to send news to Orthanc. With that he rode away back towards Mirkwood.

By sending Gandalf to Orthanc, Radagast unwittingly had him captured. Saruman's message proved to be a trap for Gandalf who was imprisoned in Orthanc, but still he did not believe that Radagast was also a part of Saruman's plans. Indeed, it was thanks to Radagast that Gandalf was able to escape from the pinnacle of Orthanc upon the wings of Gwaihir.

Radagast's actions during and after the rest of the War are not recorded. After the Council of Elrond, scouts were sent out from Rivendell to many different locations. Some passed over the Misty Mountains and eventually came to Rhosgobel, but they found that Radagast was not there.His fate after the War of the Ring is not known,however given his task was to oppose Sauron his powers likely would have dwindled if he remained in Middle-earth.

Art by middle earth Tolkien fantasy art by Corinna Springl

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extendedtkwrtrilogyend · 6 years

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Chapter XXIII: (EXT) Êlenuil Everstar (Pt. II)

Mirkwood became quiet again after the skirmish with the Easterlings. I knew it would not last and my council prepared for war. The guards at the southern border were multiplied and my army spent their days preparing to fight. Randúmîr recovered but rather than return to the southern borders, he was appointed to council with Aldáros. With uncertainty looming, many elves decided to begin the long journey to Mithlond.

Elenadar sent his wife Elarían away with their sons Sîrandír and Sîrandor. Her sister, Elenlúin decided to accompany her. Her husband Elenatar sent his sons Sílrandor and Sûlrandír. Fëaluin tried to convince Linurial to accompany them, but she refused to leave him.

At dawn, I watched a family tearfully say farewell once more. I thought back many centuries—now wishing Êlúriel had left with my mother and her father.

“I would never have left you,” I heard Êlúriel say to me.

“Must you always read my thoughts,” I asked smiling. “They are my last bastion of solitude.”

“Your thoughts are as loud as you are,” she said. “If not more so.”

“I know I could never persuade you to go to Eldamar,” I said. “You are too stubborn.”

“No more than any other wife,” she said. “But I am also the queen and I belong with my people.”

We looked at each other—a wave of commonality washed over us.

“You know of the attack by the Easterlings on our southern borders,” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “Fëaluin told me not long after Randúmîr was brought in.”

“What do you think of it,” I asked her.

“I know you have reinforced the southern borders as it is the most likely to be compromised,” she said. “That will not be enough, for the western borders' greatest weakness lies in the lack Beornings left to help defend it.”

She smiled and left me standing on the bridge in wonderment. As I prepared to go inside, Sildôr approached.

“Sildôr,” I said. “The elf I wanted to see.”

“Yes,” he asked.

“I think we should reinforce our western borders,” I said.

“It is done,” he answered. “I have made Arawë aware of it just now.”

“Oh,” I said surprised. “How did you know to do it?”

“By order of Queen Êlúriel,” he said, smiling. He bowed and went on his way.

I smiled to myself as I went on about my duties. By the afternoon, I was in my study with Eldôr, Elranduil and Ardôr discussing what had transpired evening last.

“The presence of even a few Easterlings means that Dol Guldur may rise again,” Elranduil said. “Though they will not pass this way, evil rises and will come from many places.”

“We are not nearly as vulnerable to attack as others,” Eldôr said. “There is much trepidation about entering our borders. But whatever remains at Dol Guldur will only attack those beyond our borders. It is as much a curse as it is a blessing.”

“What remains at Dol Guldur is precisely the reason there is much trepidation,” Elranduil added. “You know as well as I that we are no more or less vulnerable from an attack than anyone outside our borders."

“We may be able keep some things at bay, but not others,” Ardôr said, nervously. “Father, why can you not demand Mother to leave? If she left, I know Ninyáre would follow.”

“I cannot persuade Ardúin to anything she does not wish to do, son,” Elranduil said. “Should she decide to leave for Mithlond, it will be when she is ready.”

“We need her,” I said. “There are few ladies left to attend to the wounded. That is the reason she stays. For now, they are far safer within these halls than they are traveling to Mithlond.”

“The numbers of elves willing to remain grows less and less,” Eldôr said.

“Between here, Rivendell and Lothlórien, our numbers dwindle as war grows ever closer. They spoke of it when I returned from Mithlond after I saw Nimeithel and Valdúril on their way. Círdan spoke of many waiting upon his return from Dagorlad.”

“It is good to know they are safe,” I said softly, thinking of my mother. “I want them to remember things the way they were, not as they have become.”

“They lived through much worse, Thranduil,” he answered. “So have I. I have come to realize that evil is as much a part of the world as good.”

“There is far too much evil,” Ardôr said. “It is all around us.”

“It is here to be heard,” I said. “There is far more good in this world than evil, but it must speak louder to get our attention and we give it fully because it is easier to hear the howling of a warg than it is the fluttering of a butterfly. We should fear what we become from what frightens us. Fear is the life blood of evil—it cannot exist without it. We cannot give evil what it wants if we are to defeat it.”

“You have become wiser with age, Thranduil,” Fëaluin said as he entered.

“Pardon my intrusion, but you have more pressing issues to deal with just now.”

“What might that be,” I asked. “What could me more pressing than planning for war?”

“You are needed in audience,” he said.

“Who seeks an audience with me,” I asked, wondering whom had come into my kingdom.

“I am afraid it is you that is being called to have an audience,” he said smiling.

“I was told that you must come straight away.”

“Who dares command me,” I said angrily.

“Nenduîl and Tárimë,” he said. “They are in their chambers waiting to speak to you.”

Immediately, I calmed down and light laughter filled the room. I looked at Ardôr.

“Do you know what this is about,” I asked him.

“No,” he answered, perplexed.

I left my study and went toward their chambers. As I approached, the guards opened the doors and I entered to find Nenduîl and Tárimë standing with Eärluin in the middle of the room together calmly.

“Nenduîl. Tárimë. Eärluin,” I asked. “Is something the matter?”

“Who are we,” Nenduîl asked softly. “Why are we different from others?”

“What do you mean,” I asked walking to them and kneeling before them. “Who told you that you were different?”

“Aranduil,” Tárimë answered. “He said that we were not like anyone else. So I hit him and sent him away.”

“Tárimë, that was not nice,” I said. “You should never hurt another—especially your cousin. I do not think he was teasing you.”

“Then it is true,” Nenduîl said. “We are different.”

“I do not want to be different,” Eärluin said frowning.

“No one likes us anymore,” Tárimë said sadly. “Do you like us?

“What are you saying,” I asked. Everyone loves you and so do I.”

“Then why are we different,” Nenduîl asked.

“You are a boy,” Eärluin said. “I do not want to be a boy.”

“You will never become a boy, Eärluin,” I began. “And you are not different, Nenduîl. You are elves. Like Aranduil and Auríel and all the other elves in the kingdom. But you also have some of your mother inside you as well. A small part of her will always be with you.”

“We are mortal,” Tárimë said. “We will die like Nana.”

“No,” Nenduîl said angrily “I do not want to die!”

“What is die, Ada,” Eärluin asked.

“Ada,” Tárimë asked. “You are our Ada now?”

“Ada and Nana,” Eärluin said defiantly pointing at me.

That took my breath from me. How does one explain immortality to ones so young. I was given the responsibility of their care but tried to keep their parents in their memory.

“You are,” Nenduîl said. “Ours is not here. He left us with you. Now you are Ada.”

“Yes,” Tárimë agreed. “May we call you Ada?”

“If you wish.”

“Good,” Nenduîl said. “Are we going to die?”

“I do not want to die,” Eärluin said. “What is die?"

“Die is when you sleep forever,” I said. “You can never wake up.”

“Like our other Nana,” Tárimë said. “She died.”

“What other Nana,” Eärluin asked. “Why is she died?”

“Your other Nana was ill,” I said as I struggled to explain things well beyond their understanding—even as they tried to understand. “She went to sleep, Eärluin. Forever. That is what mortals do when they fall ill or grow old.”

“Are we mortal,” Tárimë asked. “Is that why we are different?”

“You are not fully mortal, Tárimë,” I said. “The smallest part of you is mortal. The part that comes from your mother.”

“What is mortal,” Eärluin asked.

“It is what we are not,” Nenduîl said. “We will never die.”

“Elves can die as well,” I said. “By many ways, Nenduîl. But I will not let that happen to you or your sisters. You have my word.”

“That is good,” Tárimë said.

“Why do you say that,” I asked.

“Because if we were to die, we would never see you again, Ada.”

They embraced me. I felt happier than I had in a very long time. I was in love with Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin as I was with Tarthôn, Legolas and Isílriel.

“Now, go find Aranduil and apologize for hitting him,” I said to Tárimë. “I must go have a word with your Nana.”

“Tárimë hit him,” Eärluin laughing. “She hits like a girl.”

“Eärluin,” I said. “Go on with your brother and sister.”

She giggled as she ran out of the room with her siblings. I stood up and walked into the hall to find Êlúriel. I saw Isílriel speaking with Êleníel, daughter of Sildôr. She was as beautiful as Isílriel—with long golden hair and spritely blue eyes.

“Your Majesty,” Êleníel said bowing.

“Hello, Ada,” Isílriel said. “You must be looking for Nana.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Her Majesty is above us,” Êleníel said, motioning upward.

“Thank you, Êleníel,” I said. “Isílriel.”

I continued to the end of the hall and up the spiral stairwell leading to the rooms above the thrones. I noticed evening was upon us as I could see evening’s twilight revealing the first stars of night. Several elves had begun the nightly ritual of lighting lanterns throughout the palaces. I glanced right to see Êlúriel standing by a window overlooking roaring falls starting to gleam in star and lantern light. She was wearing a long white gown with long delicate sleeves of sheer muslin; her long waves flowing behind her. She turned to see me and smiled as I approached.

“Is there anything you cannot do,” I asked her.

“How do you mean,” she asked.

“You raise our children, command our armies, keep our court and somehow manage to always look breathtakingly beautiful.”

She smiled at me then started to laugh.

“Oh, Thranduil,” she began. “You are quite possibly the worst liar in all of Arda.”

“I am not lying, Êlúriel,” I said. “I was paying a compliment to the queen.”

“To what do I owe such flattery,” she asked.

“Everything,” I said, caressing her face. “That is what you are to me.”

“And you are everything to me,” she whispered before I felt her lips on mine.

We allowed ourselves to escape the agony and pain we had endured for months—knowing it would not be long before I saw battle again—one last time.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-18-17

#thranduil and eluriel #thranduil elranduil #sildor #eleniel daughter of sildor #isilriel daughter of thranduil #the love of thranduil and eluriel #the greatest love of thranduil #nenduil tarime earluin #tolkien fan fiction #in honor of jrr tolkien #tkwr trilogy #the kingdom of the woodland realm trilogy #the extended version of book ii #the saga of thranduil #true love #more elf stuff #middle earth fan fiction

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